The moment we step through the door, a freezing wind cuts through the air like a knife. I gasp, pulling Nikko close to me, instinctively wrapping my arms around her small frame to shield her from the biting cold. The wind howls around us, carrying with it swirls of snow that sting my cheeks and blur my vision. I can barely see through the flurry, the world around us blanketed in white.

Nikko shivers in my arms, her small body trembling against me, and I tighten my grip, trying to keep her warm. My breath comes out in sharp, visible bursts, the icy air stealing it away as soon as it leaves my lungs. It's unbearable—this cold. My skin prickles, my fingers growing numb even as I try to shield Nikko from the worst of it.

Llamiryl, calm as ever, stands beside us, her eyes closed, her lips moving in a soft incantation. The words are foreign to me, whispered in a language that feels ancient, powerful. And then, as if in response to her magic, the cold begins to fade.

I blink, feeling the sharpness of the wind ease, replaced by something warmer. The biting chill is still there, but it's distant now, as though Llamiryl's spell has wrapped us in a protective barrier, softening the harshness of the storm. The wind still blows, the snow still whirls around us in a blizzard, but it's almost... pleasant now. Like a cold breeze on a winter's day, rather than the brutal force it had been moments before.

I let out a long sigh of relief, loosening my hold on Nikko, who looks up at me with grateful eyes. Her small shoulders relax, and I can see the color returning to her cheeks. "Thank you," I whisper to Llamiryl, my voice carrying a note of deep gratitude.

Llamiryl opens her eyes and nods, offering a faint smile. "It will hold for now," she says, her voice calm, though there's an edge of focus in her gaze, as though she's still maintaining the spell even as we stand there.

I take a deep breath, feeling the warmth fill my lungs, and let Nikko go, though I keep her close by my side. Together, we begin to look around, taking in the strange, surreal landscape of this world.

The surface is... unlike anything I've ever seen before. The ground beneath our feet is covered in a thick layer of snow, but there's something almost crystalline about it. The snow sparkles faintly in the dim light, as if tiny shards of glass are mixed in with the ice. It crunches underfoot, but not like the soft powder of snow I'm used to—it feels more solid, more brittle, as though the ground itself is made of frozen crystal.

Jagged ice formations rise up all around us, towering spires that gleam in the cold light of the sky. Some are translucent, their sharp edges catching the faint light and scattering it in all directions, casting long, eerie shadows across the snow. Others are opaque, dark and foreboding, like frozen mountains that have been carved by the wind over centuries. The wind whistles through these icy towers, creating a haunting melody that echoes across the landscape.

In the distance, I can see what looks like a massive ravine, its edges lined with sharp cliffs of ice. The snow swirls through the air, carried by the relentless wind, but there's something almost beautiful about it—the way the snow dances, swirling and twisting in the breeze, like white tendrils reaching out toward the sky.

Above us, the sky is a pale, muted blue, streaked with thin, wispy clouds that seem frozen in place. There's no sun, no warmth, just an endless expanse of cold light filtering through the clouds, casting a soft, ethereal glow over everything. It's both mesmerizing and unsettling, like we've stepped into a dream—one that's beautiful and dangerous all at once.

Nikko clutches my hand, her small fingers wrapped tightly around mine. "It's... strange," she whispers, her voice barely audible over the wind. "But... pretty."

I nod, though I can't shake the feeling of unease creeping up my spine. The beauty of this place feels otherworldly, almost unnatural. Like something so pristine and untouched shouldn't exist in a world as harsh as this. But despite its beauty, the cold reminds me that this place is unforgiving. It's not meant for life. It's meant for survival.

"This place," I murmur, my eyes drifting over the crystalline landscape. "It's... surreal."

Llamiryl walks a few steps ahead, her gaze scanning the horizon, her eyes narrowing as she surveys the distant cliffs. "This is Ilum," she says, her voice low and steady. "A world of ice and crystal. But also... a world of secrets."

Her words hang in the air, carried by the wind, and I feel a shiver run down my spine—not from the cold, but from the weight of her words.

Nikko suddenly brightens beside me, her voice cutting through the biting wind. "I know this world," she says, her face lighting up with recognition. It's the first time I've seen her smile in a long time.

I look down at her, surprised. "What did Ryu tell you about this place?" I ask, curiosity momentarily overtaking the cold that's digging into my bones.

"It's where Papa got his crystal from," Nikko says matter-of-factly, her breath visible in the frosty air.

"Crystal?" I repeat, my confusion growing. Even Llamiryl raises an eyebrow, clearly just as curious as I am.

Nikko nods, her little face serious. "Mhm. For his lightsaber."

"Lightsaber?" Llamiryl mutters, as if she's turning the strange word over in her mind, trying to understand it.

"You mean that yellow-bladed weapon he uses?" I ask, the memory of Ryu's weapon flashing in my mind.

"Yes," Nikko confirms, her smile fading slightly as she huddles closer to me for warmth.

A cold shiver runs through me, but not because of the wind. I glance around, my eyes scanning the icy landscape. The wind howls through the air, carrying snow that stings my face, but then I see them—Ryu and his master—standing a little distance away, facing what looks like a massive structure made entirely of ice.

It's unlike anything I've ever seen. The building, if I can even call it that, rises out of the frozen ground like a giant shard of crystal. The walls are smooth and reflective, the ice catching what little light there is and casting it in strange, shimmering patterns. Massive pillars of ice and stone support the structure, and intricate carvings—symbols or runes, perhaps—are etched into the surface. The whole thing looks like it was carved by the planet itself, molded by the wind and the cold over centuries.

Ryu stands there, shivering in his dark training robes. His arms are wrapped tightly around himself, and his face is pale, his breath visible in the freezing air. He's trying to stay warm, but those robes offer little protection against this cold. His lips are blue, and I can see the way his body trembles.

His master, on the other hand, wears thick, layered robes over his body, clearly made for this kind of weather. The cold doesn't seem to affect him in the same way. He stands tall, imposing, his pale cloak billowing slightly in the wind, but his face... his face is colder than the air around us.

My blood boils as I watch them. It's because of him, Ryu's master. He's the reason Ryu has done such terrible things. He's the one who molded him into someone capable of the horrors we've seen. And now, he brings Ryu here, to this frozen wasteland, with no extra protection from the cold. Ryu is barely able to stand, and his master just stands there, unaffected. He doesn't even seem to care.

I clench my fists, my body shaking with anger. How can he do this to Ryu? How can he be so heartless?

"Master..." Ryu's voice breaks through the wind, shaky and weak, and I can hear how cold he is, how much he's struggling. "Why are we here?"

His master turns slightly, his cold eyes locking onto Ryu. "You know where we are, don't you?"

"Ilum, Master," Ryu says through chattering teeth. "This is where the Jedi find their kyber crystals—through trials in this temple." He pauses, rubbing his arms in a futile attempt to stay warm. "But... why are we here? Isn't it the way of the Sith to take their kyber crystals by force? To defeat a Jedi and claim the crystal from their weapon?"

Ryu's voice wavers slightly, his confusion clear as he glances toward the looming temple. "I thought I was trained to be a Sith... trained to take what I need, not seek it out like a Jedi."

His master watches him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "Under normal circumstances, yes. But you are different, Ryu." His voice takes on a darker, almost hypnotic tone, layering each word with intention. "Your path leads elsewhere. You are not bound by the ways of the Jedi or the Sith because you are destined for more."

Ryu's brow furrows, his face a mixture of confusion and discomfort as he fights against the cold. "Elsewhere, Master? I don't understand."

"You will," his master says, his voice smooth and confident. "In time, the truth of your purpose will be revealed. For now, the temple will test you. Use everything I have taught you, and you will succeed."

There's something in his tone that sends a chill down my spine—colder than the wind. His words feel loaded with some deeper meaning, something dark.

Ryu looks at the entrance of the temple, its massive archway looming ahead. His breath comes out in shaky, foggy puffs, and I can see the uncertainty in his eyes. "And... if I don't?" he asks, barely more than a whisper.

The master's silence is more powerful than any words. His cold, unflinching gaze says everything that needs to be said. There is no failure. There is no other option.

Ryu's shoulders slump slightly, but he nods, understanding the unspoken message. He looks up at the temple's entrance, a deep breath fogging the air before him, and then starts walking toward it. His master, without even offering a word of encouragement or support, turns and begins walking away.

I watch him, fury rising in me again as I see him make his way toward a ship parked nearby. The ship's dark, metallic hull gleams against the icy landscape, a stark contrast to the world around it. The wind whips around it, howling as the ship's hatch lowers with a hiss, allowing Ryu's master to board.

I can't believe it. He doesn't even glance back at Ryu. He doesn't offer a single word of support, not even the smallest sign that he cares. I want to scream at him, to grab him and make him understand how much damage he's done—how he's twisted Ryu into this. But I can't. All I can do is watch, seething with anger, as he walks away, leaving Ryu to face the cold and the temple alone.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

Ryu takes a deep breath, his face tight with focus as he steps through the entrance of the temple. I follow close behind, with Nikko clinging to my side, her wide eyes scanning the frozen walls, and Llamiryl just behind us. The air inside is frigid but somehow quieter than outside. The wind's howling has been reduced to a dull whisper as we cross the threshold. My breath catches at the sight before me—the sheer scale of the temple is overwhelming.

The walls are made of shimmering ice, but it's no ordinary ice. It's alive with light, reflecting and refracting in ways that almost seem unnatural, casting long, eerie shadows that dance across the frozen floor. Massive pillars rise from the ground, their surfaces etched with symbols and runes I can't recognize. They reach upward into the dark, vaulted ceiling far above, where the light grows dim, and the temple's immense height seems to stretch into the heavens. Everything about this place feels ancient, untouched by time. There's power here; I can feel it in the air, humming softly, reverberating through the walls.

Ryu presses forward, each of his steps deliberate. I can see his breath, the tension in his shoulders as he moves deeper into the temple. The cold is biting, but it's more than that. There's something alive in this place, something that tests him with every step. I follow him, my heart pounding, unsure of what lies ahead but feeling the weight of this place.

We enter a chamber, but it seems empty at first—just a vast, icy space with a single pedestal in the middle. Ryu stops in front of it, and his expression hardens. He kneels before it, his hands resting on his knees, eyes fixed forward. For a long moment, nothing happens. I glance at Nikko, then at Llamiryl, both just as puzzled as I am. What's happening here?

Minutes stretch into what feels like hours. Ryu remains still, his breathing steady but strained. The cold deepens, the air around us heavy, pressing down on him. His body tenses, his fingers twitching, but he doesn't move. He's waiting, testing himself, and it's clearly wearing on him. I feel my chest tighten as I watch, feeling like there's something I'm missing.

"What's going on?" I whisper to Llamiryl, unable to take my eyes off Ryu.

Llamiryl watches with furrowed brows before answering, her voice calm but filled with insight. "It's a trial," she says quietly. "The temple is testing him—his patience, perhaps."

I stare at her. A trial? It makes sense, but why? I'm beginning to understand what this place is—some sort of challenge, but for what purpose?

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the pedestal in front of Ryu begins to glow softly, and I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. Ryu rises slowly, his legs shaking slightly, but his resolve is clear. He's passed the first test.

We follow him into the next chamber. The air here is warmer, but it's not a comforting warmth—it's thick, suffocating almost, as if the room itself is closing in on us. Ryu steps forward, and I feel a strange tension in the air, like something is about to happen. I can see Ryu's posture shift, his body tensing.

Then, without warning, the shadows in the room begin to move, forming figures in the mist around us. I gasp as the shapes solidify, becoming people. People from Ryu's past. At first, I can't tell who they are, but I can see the pain in Ryu's eyes. He knows them.

A tall, imposing figure steps forward, dressed in dark robes—the same robes his master wears. "You are weak, Ryu," the figure says, his voice low and dripping with disappointment. "You always fail when it matters most."

Ryu's face tightens, his hands clenching into fists. I can feel the fear radiating from him, the way his body trembles not from the cold but from something much deeper. This trial isn't about physical endurance. It's forcing him to confront his failures, his fear of disappointing his master.

The figure continues, circling around him like a predator. "Do you really think you're worthy of this path? You've failed at every turn, Ryu. You're not strong enough." The words cut deep, and I can see how much they hurt Ryu. His loyalty to his master is undeniable, but this... this is breaking him.

I glance at Llamiryl, who watches in silence, her expression unreadable. "What is this?" I whisper, my voice shaky.

"It's another trial," Llamiryl replies, her tone somber. "The temple is testing his inner mind, his deepest fears."

My heart aches as I watch Ryu stand there, helpless against the words of the figure who resembles his master. Nikko, sensing the tension, clutches my hand tightly. She's too young to fully understand what's happening, but she knows her father is in pain.

Ryu stares at the figure, his breathing heavy. "I won't fail," he mutters, but there's doubt in his voice. "I can't fail."

The figure laughs, cold and mocking. "You already have, Ryu. Over and over again. You were never meant for greatness." The words echo in the chamber, and I see Ryu's shoulders slump, his confidence wavering.

I want to scream, to tell him it's not true. But I can't. This is his trial, his burden to bear. The figure leans closer, its voice a chilling whisper. "You are nothing but a tool, a vessel waiting to be discarded. You have no purpose beyond that."

Ryu's face hardens, and for a moment, I think he's going to break. But then he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and when he opens them again, there's fire in them. "No," he says firmly. "I won't let you control me."

The figure snarls, but its form begins to fade, the shadows retreating as Ryu takes control of his fear. Slowly, the room grows quiet again, the mist dissipating. He's passed another trial, but the strain is evident in his face. He's fighting more than just physical challenges—he's fighting his own mind, his loyalty to a master who only seems to break him down.

We move on to the next chamber, but before we even reach the end of the room, I feel a ripple in the air. Ryu stops abruptly, his body tense, and I follow his gaze. There, just ahead, is a lone figure—young, robed, and kneeling on the icy floor, with a small, glowing object floating before them.

"A Padawan," Llamiryl whispers beside me. Her tone is quiet, but I can hear the weight of the word. "They must be here for their own kyber crystal. There must be others nearby."

My breath catches at the sight. A Padawan—one of the legendary Jedi. This child, likely here for the same purpose as Ryu, seems so serene, so peaceful. But Ryu's face darkens. I see the tension in his jaw, the way his hand moves toward his belt, fingers brushing the hilt of his knife.

I freeze. My heart pounds in my chest as I watch Ryu grip the handle tightly, his eyes locked on the Padawan, a cold determination taking over his features. I can feel the darkness in him rising, that same emotionless mask he wore when I watched him commit terrible acts before.

"No... don't..." I plead silently, my breath caught in my throat. He wouldn't—he couldn't. Not this. Not a child.

But his gaze doesn't waver. His knuckles whiten as he tightens his hold on the knife, and for a terrifying moment, I think he's going to do it.

I can't bear it. My body tenses, every part of me screaming out for him to stop, to spare this child. The fear churns in my stomach, and I feel Nikko's tiny hand squeeze mine, her own terror seeping through as she watches her father.

Then, a flicker of doubt crosses his face. His expression changes, the anger receding slightly. Slowly, agonizingly, he lets go of the knife, releasing the tension in his hand. My heart races as I watch him slide the knife back into its sheath. I let out a breath, my knees nearly buckling with relief. He's not going to attack. Not today.

Ryu remains still for a moment longer before he silently moves, slipping back into the shadows to avoid being seen by the Padawan. But as he inches away, the Padawan shifts slightly, their head tilting in his direction. My pulse spikes again. I hold my breath, watching in horror as the Padawan turns just enough that they might catch sight of Ryu.

Ryu freezes, his body rigid. Time seems to stretch endlessly, the silence in the room deafening. The Padawan's gaze lingers for a moment, their brow furrowed slightly. I can feel my heart pounding in my throat, willing them not to notice him.

And then... the Padawan looks away, turning their focus back to their trial.

I exhale, the tension flooding out of me as Ryu slips away into the shadows once more, moving quietly but quickly. He's done it. He's avoided detection. But the risk... the danger... I can't believe how close he came to something terrible.

We follow him into the final chamber, and the cold here is unlike anything I've ever felt before. The wind howls through the cracks in the ice, biting at my skin, but Ryu pushes forward. His pace is slower now, his steps heavier. He's nearing his limit, I can see it in his eyes. This trial is testing his endurance, pushing him to the very edge of what he can withstand.

He stumbles, but he doesn't stop. His body is fighting against the elements, but his will is stronger. My heart aches for him, watching him suffer like this, but I know he won't give up. He's come too far.

Finally, at the far end of the chamber, I see a faint glow. Ryu's eyes lock onto it, and I can feel his determination rise again. He moves toward it, every step a battle against the cold. The light grows brighter, and finally, I see it—a crystal, glowing softly within the ice.

Ryu reaches out, his hand trembling as he touches the crystal. The moment his fingers brush against it, a wave of warmth floods the room, and I can see the relief wash over him. He's done it. He's passed the trials.

Ryu holds the crystal up against the light, and I can see its brilliance from where I stand. It's clear, but the way it catches the light is breathtaking, as if it's holding a piece of the very sun itself within its core, radiating warmth and brilliance like no gem I've ever seen. For a moment, time seems to stop as he gazes at it, the weight of what he's achieved reflected in his eyes. The crystal gleams in his hand, more than just a prize—it feels like a symbol of everything he's endured, a piece of his soul crystallized in the frozen temple.

I can't tear my eyes away. In this moment, I see something I haven't seen in Ryu in any of the other memories—hope. It's subtle, buried under the layers of pain and darkness, but it's there, flickering in the way he looks at the crystal.

Nikko's small hand squeezes mine, and I glance down at her. She's watching Ryu too, her eyes wide with awe.

"Papa..." she whispers softly, her voice barely audible over the quiet hum of the temple.

I give her a gentle nod, feeling a strange mixture of pride and sadness welling up inside me. This Ryu, the one standing in the temple, holding that crystal... he's so far from the cold, emotionless warrior we've seen in other memories. And yet, he's still so distant, locked away in a past that I fear might consume him.

Llamiryl steps forward, her hand outstretched. With a soft murmur, she summons another door. It materializes slowly, the edges of the frame glowing faintly before the door slides open with a soft hiss. The warm light beyond spills into the frozen chamber, and it feels like a beacon pulling me forward, but I hesitate. I can't leave yet.

I turn back, my gaze lingering on Ryu. He's still staring at the crystal, his face unreadable, but I can sense the storm of emotions beneath his calm exterior. I want to reach out, to tell him that we're here, watching him, ready to help. But I can't. This is a memory—a fragment of his past that we can only witness, never change.

"Come on," Llamiryl urges softly, her voice firm but understanding. "We have to keep moving."

Nikko tugs on my arm gently, and I force myself to tear my gaze away from Ryu. The door looms ahead, glowing with a quiet, almost inviting warmth, but my heart feels heavy as I take a step toward it. I glance back one last time, watching as Ryu lowers the crystal, his expression unreadable once more.

With a heavy sigh, I take Nikko's hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. We slip through the door together, leaving Ryu and his crystal behind, the cold air of the temple fading as we cross into the unknown.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

We step through the door into another memory, the air suddenly warm and close around us, a stark contrast to the frigid winds of Ilum. My first instinct is to orient myself, to figure out where we are now. The space is dim, cramped, with barely enough room for the three of us to stand without pressing against each other. I glance around—a small bed tucked against the wall, a tiny window overlooking the vastness of space, and in the corner, a narrow worktable cluttered with parts and tools. I furrow my brow. The environment feels strangely familiar, though I can't place it at first.

I feel Nikko shift beside me, clutching my arm tightly as her gaze sweeps the room. Llamiryl is already scanning the surroundings, and I watch as a flicker of realization crosses her face. "We're back aboard the Right Hand," she whispers softly, her eyes narrowing as she focuses on the details. I feel a shiver run through me—not from the cold, but from the weight of where we are. This ship... this place holds such darkness for Ryu.

My eyes fall to the figure seated at the worktable. It's Ryu, hunched over, his entire body tense as he works. His back is to us, but I can see the strain in his movements, the way he's focused so intently on the object in front of him. It's clear he's creating something, building it with the utmost care. Tools are spread out across the table, and sparks fly occasionally as he welds pieces together.

Sparks light up his face for brief moments, highlighting the beads of sweat clinging to his brow. His fingers work with precision, even as they tremble slightly from exhaustion. I realize with a start that I'm holding my breath, captivated by the intensity of his focus. He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, his movements slow but deliberate.

Ryu is building something—something important, something powerful. And whatever it is, it's taking everything he has to complete it.

The room is so small that I can't move without bumping into Llamiryl or Nikko, but I'm too absorbed in watching Ryu work to care. He's using the tools on the table to shape a metallic object, each piece fitting together with delicate precision. It's a hilt, long and sleek, with intricate designs etched into the metal. The shape is unfamiliar to me, though it vaguely reminds me of the hilt of a blade. I watch as he adjusts tiny parts, tightening screws and securing pieces with near mechanical efficiency.

The atmosphere in the room is thick with tension and concentration. I glance at Nikko, who's staring wide-eyed at her father, clearly in awe of what he's doing. There's an intensity in the air, a quiet reverence for the moment as Ryu continues to piece the hilt together, bit by bit.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Ryu pauses, his breath shaky but steady. The hilt in his hands is complete. It's beautiful, sleek, and elegant, with the weight of something far more powerful than a simple weapon. The metal gleams faintly in the dim light, and the craftsmanship is exquisite, unlike anything I've ever seen.

A small compartment on the hilt slides open with a soft click, revealing a space perfectly shaped for the kyber crystal. Ryu's hand moves slowly as he retrieves the crystal from the table, holding it with careful prongs. My breath catches as I watch him place it inside the hilt, his hands shaking slightly from fatigue. The compartment closes with a final, satisfying snap, and for a long moment, Ryu just sits there, staring at the completed lightsaber in his hands.

Then, with a soft exhale, he presses a button on the hilt.

A brilliant yellow blade erupts from the hilt, flooding the room with radiant light. I gasp, as does Nikko, the golden hue casting warm reflections off the metallic surfaces around us. The hum of the blade vibrates through the air, its sound steady and powerful. Ryu's eyes widen slightly, a flicker of delight crossing his tired face. He holds the lightsaber up, twirling it slowly, and the blade cuts through the air with an effortless hum, leaving trails of light in its wake.

As Ryu ignites the lightsaber, the yellow blade casting its brilliant glow throughout the room, I can feel a wave of emotion sweep over me. The hum of the blade is steady, powerful, and familiar. Nikko's hand tightens around mine, and when I glance down at her, her wide eyes reflect the golden light of the saber. "Papa made it..." she whispers, awe and excitement in her voice.

My heart races as I watch Ryu hold up the blade, its yellow light dancing along the cramped walls. I know this weapon. I've seen it before, in the heat of battle, when Ryu saved us from that terrible undead dragon in the depths of the dungeon. The memory flashes before my eyes—the blinding yellow light cutting through the dark, the surge of hope I felt as Ryu stepped in to protect us. He had wielded that very weapon with such skill, and now here it is, newly crafted in his hands.

I swallow hard, the mix of emotions swelling within me. Relief. Pride. But also fear. This lightsaber, powerful as it is, has a darker history behind it—one tied to everything Ryu has endured.

Nikko's expression is nothing but pure wonder. She gazes at the blade like it's something magical, something she's seen before but never quite understood until now. "Papa's so amazing," she murmurs softly, her voice almost reverent.

But Llamiryl... her reaction is different. She stares at the glowing yellow blade, her eyes narrowing slightly, as though trying to comprehend what she's witnessing. "What... what is that?" she asks, her voice low and cautious, as though the weapon itself is something foreign and dangerous. Her tone makes it clear—she's never seen anything like this before.

"A lightsaber," I whisper, my voice barely audible as I struggle to explain. "Ryu's weapon."

Llamiryl tilts her head, her gaze never leaving the blade. There's a flicker of understanding in her eyes, but also a trace of wariness. "I've never seen anything like it. It feels... alive." Her words hang in the air, and I can see her trying to make sense of the weapon that has saved us all but carries so much more than she can possibly know.

Ryu, now visibly exhausted, twirls the blade slowly, the yellow light spinning in arcs through the cramped space. The hum of the blade fills the room, the sound vibrating deep within me. But as I watch him, a flood of memories overwhelms me—the sight of that same glowing weapon slicing through the darkness, the relief that washed over me when he saved us, the way he stood between us and danger with nothing but that light to protect us.

I feel my throat tighten, but I quickly shake the thought away. This is no time for reflection. This is Ryu's moment, and he's earned it.

Llamiryl, her usual calm demeanor slightly shaken, steps forward, her voice soft but steady. "The Shadowfell isn't here," she announces, pulling me from my thoughts. With a flick of her wrist, she summons another door, its glow bright and inviting against the small room's darkness.

I glance at Ryu one last time, watching as the yellow blade slowly deactivates, leaving only the quiet hum of the ship around us. His face is a mixture of triumph and exhaustion, and though he can't see us, I feel an overwhelming sense of pride for him. For what he's accomplished.

We step toward the door, and I feel Nikko tug gently on my sleeve. I offer her a small smile, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. One last glance at Ryu, and we slip through the door, leaving the memory behind, but carrying the image of that glowing blade with us.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

We are suddenly thrust into a chaotic, war-torn world. Towering trees loom over us, their thick trunks and sprawling branches creating a dense canopy that barely lets any sunlight through. The air is thick with the sharp, acrid smell of smoke, and the sounds of an intense battle surround us. Bright blue and red beams of light zip past, striking the trees and the ground with explosive force. Soldiers in various armors clash amidst the natural beauty of the forest, their movements frantic and deadly.

In the distance, I spot soldiers in sleek white and red armor, their helmets gleaming under the dim light filtering through the branches. Their black-tinted visors give them a faceless, intimidating appearance. They carry strange, advanced-looking weapons that shoot beams of light with deadly precision. These soldiers are coordinated, efficient, moving with an unsettling precision that fills me with unease.

Nikko clings to me, her eyes wide with fear. "Talia, what's happening?" she asks, her small voice barely audible over the chaos.

"I don't know, Nikko," I whisper back, struggling to keep my voice steady despite the growing panic in my chest.

Llamiryl stands beside us, watching the scene unfold. Her eyes narrow as she takes in the battle. "We're on a world engulfed in conflict," she says, her voice strained, likely watching this horrible conflict. "Those soldiers... they're fighting for control."

I glance around and see more soldiers in black and red armor, similar to the ones we've seen before in Ryu's memories. They fire back at the white-armored soldiers with equal ferocity. Amongst them are large, spider-like droids, their metallic limbs skittering unnervingly as they fire at the enemy.

"This is madness," I murmur, my heart pounding. "Why are they fighting?"

Llamiryl shakes her head, clearly unsettled. "I can't access Ryu's memories fully right now for some reason, but this... this is a war. A brutal, senseless war."

We move cautiously through the battlefield, trying to avoid the chaos around us. Suddenly, I see figures wielding glowing blue and green blades, their movements graceful but deadly. Their weapons—lightsabers, I realize—cut through the soldiers effortlessly. Each swing is precise, every step calculated. But even these warriors fall. Their lifeless bodies scatter the ground like broken dolls.

Nikko's voice trembles as she watches them. "Those weapons... they're like Papa's."

"They are," Llamiryl responds quietly, her eyes filled with awe.

Amidst the chaos, I spot another figure—a dark, looming presence moving through the battlefield. This one is different. Clad in black robes, with a menacing mask obscuring their face, they wield a red lightsaber and cut down the warriors with brutal precision. Their movements are swift, almost too fast to follow, and my heart skips a beat.

The battle rages on, and the ground is soaked with blood. Nikko buries her face against me, trembling. "Stay strong, Nikko," I whisper, stroking her hair. "This is just a memory. We're safe."

But even as I say it, I'm not sure I believe it.

Then, without warning, a figure crashes down in front of us with a forceful impact. The shockwave from the landing sends nearby soldiers flying, their bodies tumbling like ragdolls. I stagger back, eyes widening in fear. The figure rises slowly, standing tall amidst the chaos.

My heart hammers in my chest, uncertainty clawing at me as I try to process what—no, who—this figure is.

The figure stands tall, draped in tattered, dark robes that billow slightly in the wind. A hood conceals most of his face, but what little I can see is enough to terrify me—an armored mask, sharp and angular, with golden markings etched into the dark metal. The red visor beneath the hood glows menacingly, casting an eerie light. No trace of humanity remains behind it.

The figure exudes a cold, predatory aura, like death itself has taken form. His black, weathered armor is scarred from battle, but even with the wear, it's menacing. A long, torn cloak drapes over his broad shoulders, the edges frayed and torn, telling tales of countless wars. His gauntleted hand flexes as it reaches down to the lightsaber hilt hanging from his belt, the sharp metal fingers reflecting the dim light. He moves with precision, like a predator stalking prey. And the battlefield feels it—every soldier knows something dark is about to unfold.

For a moment, everything is still. Soldiers from both sides stand frozen, their weapons ready but their minds paralyzed by the sheer presence of this armored figure. It's as if everyone is waiting for the first drop of blood, unsure which side this terrifying being will strike.

"Who... who is that?" I mutter, my voice barely above a whisper. Fear clenches at my heart, making it hard to breathe.

The figure ignites a yellow lightsaber, and I freeze. That lightsaber. My heart sinks as realization hits me.

It's Ryu.

"Papa..." Nikko whispers, her voice trembling with confusion and fear.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

For a moment, the entire forest holds its breath, as if waiting for Ryu to make his move. His armor—dark and imposing, with jagged edges and a visor that gleams menacingly—only adds to the terrifying image he presents.

And then, Ryu moves. Faster than I can follow, he darts into the fray. His yellow blade slices through soldiers from both sides. His strikes are swift, precise, and merciless. Bodies fall in his wake, lifeless and cold. Each motion is calculated, and his face beneath the mask is unreadable.

"Ryu, stop!" I shout, but my voice is lost in the chaos.

He can't hear me. He is trapped in this memory, swallowed by the darkness of his past. The Ryu I know—the one who stood by us, who cared for Nikko—seems to have disappeared, leaving behind only this merciless force of destruction.

The warriors with the blue and green bladed lightsabers rush toward him. Ryu meets them head-on, his yellow lightsaber clashing with theirs in a brutal display of power. He counters their attacks effortlessly, his movements fluid but deadly. One by one, they fall, unable to withstand his overwhelming strength.

A young woman falls next, her blue blade flickering as she clutches a deep wound on her chest. She looks up at Ryu, her face twisted in pain and confusion. "Please! Don't!" she pleads, her voice filled with anguish.

Ryu steps closer to her, his yellow lightsaber casting an eerie glow over her pale face. She tries to crawl away, pleading for her life, but Ryu raises his blade and, with a swift motion, ends her suffering. I gasp, my hand covering my mouth as the horror washes over me.

"This isn't the Ryu I know," I whisper, tears stinging my eyes. "He wouldn't do this..."

Llamiryl's voice trembles as she speaks. "This is a dark chapter of his past. But remember... it's just his past."

Ryu continues, undeterred by the bodies piling up around him. He moves through the battlefield with ruthless precision, cutting down anyone who dares to challenge him. Soldiers from both sides fall before him, their screams echoing in my ears. The vibrant forest becomes a graveyard, littered with death and destruction.

As we follow him, we find ourselves in a clearing. In the distance, a massive temple rises, its ancient stone walls weathered by time. Above the battlefield, strange flying machines engage in fierce combat with each other, their colorful beams streaking across the sky like falling stars.

"This is... overwhelming," I mutter, my voice barely audible.

My breath catches in my throat as I stare up and notice a massive silhouette hovering ominously above us. The colossal ship, dark and menacing, stretches across the sky, its underside a web of cold metal panels and enormous, glowing engines. The low hum of those engines vibrates through the ground beneath us. I recognize this ship—I've seen it before. The angular shape, the sharp edges—it belongs to the Sith Empire, a warship from Ryu's past, a vessel that exudes nothing but destruction and power.

Nikko's grip tightens on my arm. "It's so big..." she whispers, her voice trembling. She looks up at the behemoth, her small frame shivering with both fear and confusion. I can feel her uncertainty, and it mirrors my own.

But as I lower my gaze from the dreadnought looming overhead, something else catches my eye in the distance. It's another ship, far behind the temple, sleek and massive, but unlike the one above us. Its shape is different—more curved, smoother, as though it were designed with a completely different intent. The hull gleams with a metallic sheen, almost crescent-like, with large engines glowing faintly at the rear. There's a certain elegance to it that feels completely alien compared to the brutal design of the Sith Empire ship. This new vessel—this warship—feels different. It inspires something other than fear.

"What... is that?" I murmur, unable to tear my eyes away from the strange, crescent-shaped ship.

"I'm not sure," Llamiryl says, her gaze fixed on the distant vessel. Her voice is calm but carries the weight of realization. "I think... it belongs to the Republic. The Republic and the Sith Empire—they were always at war."

The words hit me hard, like a sudden wave of cold air. The two ships—the warship looming above us, and the crescent-shaped one in the distance—are locked in a conflict I can't fully understand. But it's clear they're enemies. Titans, waiting for the moment to strike.

And that moment comes all too quickly.

A blinding beam of light erupts from the Sith Empire ship above us, cutting through the sky. I gasp as the fiery blast rockets towards the distant vessel, the ground shaking beneath our feet. The crescent-shaped ship retaliates, firing its own barrage of glowing projectiles back at the Sith warship, their power crashing into each other with devastating force.

Before I can fully comprehend what's happening, smaller ships—hundreds of them—swarm out from both warships. They dart through the air, twisting and weaving in intricate patterns, each one engaged in its own furious battle. They're smaller than the massive vessels, but they're fast—so fast that it's hard to follow them as they zip past, leaving trails of light in their wake. Explosions burst across the sky as they collide or are shot down, the sounds of metal tearing apart and the distant hum of engines creating a deafening roar.

Nikko presses closer to me, her small body trembling. "Talia... what's happening? Why are they fighting?"

I don't have an answer. My heart pounds in my chest, my gaze darting between the flashing lights of the battle above. "I don't know, Nikko... I don't know."

Llamiryl watches the chaos unfold with narrowed eyes. "This is war. They're fighting for dominance... or perhaps, something more."

Ryu glances up at the warships, deactivating his lightsaber before clipping it to his belt. Slowly, he raises his hands toward the sky. His dark hood obscures his face, but I can feel the intensity radiating from him.

The larger warship begins to shudder, smoke billowing from its hull. My heart pounds as I realize what he's doing. Ryu's body trembles with the strain, but his focus is unyielding. With a powerful motion, he brings the warship crashing into the other with a deafening explosion. Shrapnel rains down as the ships collide, their massive forms tearing each other apart.

The battlefield falls silent as everyone watches in stunned disbelief. The warships plummet to the ground in a fiery wreck, the impact sending shockwaves through the forest. The ground shakes, and I struggle to stay upright.

"What... what did he just do?" I whisper, my mind racing to comprehend the magnitude of Ryu's power.

Nikko's grip tightens around me, her eyes wide with terror. "Talia, what did Papa do?" she asks, her voice small and trembling. I'm unable to answer, starring at the chaos Ryu has created with disbelief.

Llamiryl looks equally shaken. "I've never seen such power," she whispers, her voice filled with awe and fear. "This... this is beyond anything I could ever imagine."

Ryu staggers, dropping to one knee, gasping for breath. For a moment, it looks like he might stop, but then he pushes himself back up, his determination unshaken. He steps forward, emerging from the settling dust, a dark figure standing amidst the chaos.

For a moment, the battlefield is still, everyone watching him in awe and fear. But then, with a flick of his wrist, Ryu lifts several dropships into the air. They struggle against his power, but they are no match. He crushes some of them mid-air, the metal crumpling like paper, while others are thrown to the ground, exploding on impact.

The destruction is unimaginable. Soldiers close to the blasts are killed instantly, their bodies torn apart. The rest scramble for cover, but Ryu doesn't stop. His movements are deliberate, each action precise and devastating.

Ryu deactivates his lightsaber and begins moving towards the ancient temple at the edge of the clearing. His steps are slow, measured, as if the weight of what he had done is finally settling on him. I glance over at Nikko and Llamiryl, both of them equally shaken.

"This must be what Ryu has tried to bury," Llamiryl murmurs, her voice heavy as she watches the carnage unfold. My heart clenches painfully with each strike Ryu delivers, each life extinguished without hesitation. The man I know, the man I've come to care for, is nothing like this. But as I watch, I can't help but think, maybe this is why he tries to do so much good now. Maybe it's his way of atoning for all the terrible things he's done. The thought makes my chest tighten, and I wonder if anyone could ever truly escape such a past.

Nikko clings to me, her voice trembling. "Papa's not like this. He's good. He would never hurt people like this." Her words pull at my heartstrings, and I stroke her hair gently, though my own feelings are a whirlwind of doubt and fear.

I take a deep breath, looking at Llamiryl. "What matters now is that he's been trying to change, to fight this part of himself. We've seen it in everything he's done with us. That's who he is now, not this." My voice is firm, but my heart still aches. I need to believe those words, and so does Nikko. She nods, agreeing, though her eyes remain wide with fear.

Llamiryl glances at me, her expression softening, and she places a hand on my shoulder. "You're right," she says quietly. "What we're seeing is his past."

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

We continue forward, following Ryu as he strides towards the massive temple. The moment we step inside, the sheer grandeur of the place hits me. The walls are smooth, adorned with intricate carvings that seem to tell ancient stories—tales of long-forgotten battles and victories. Soft, glowing orbs attached to the walls cast a warm light across the polished stone floor, their glow reflecting the meticulous artistry etched into every surface. The air feels heavy with history, like the temple itself is alive with the weight of countless ages.

Lining the hall are towering statues, each holding long spears. They are unlike anything I've ever seen. Tall, with elongated limbs and heads, they almost seem otherworldly, their silent presence making the temple feel even more imposing. Their hollow eyes seem to track our every movement, and it sends a shiver down my spine.

"Look at this place," I whisper, awe in my voice. "It's magnificent."

Nikko clutches my hand tightly, her wide eyes fixed on the statues. "Are those... statues? They look so real."

Ryu, however, remains unaffected, his focus unwavering as he continues forward. Suddenly, with a mechanical whir, the statues' heads begin to turn toward him, their eyes glowing as they come to life. The sound echoes through the vast hall, ominous and unsettling.

In a flash, Ryu's yellow lightsaber ignites, casting its eerie glow across the hall. He dodges the first swing from one of the statues, its massive spear slicing through the air with a terrifying speed. He counters, striking the leg of the towering guardian, but the blow barely leaves a mark. One of the other statues strikes, sending Ryu tumbling back through the air. He manages to catch himself mid-flight, landing on his feet with a grunt, his expression hardening with determination.

Suddenly, several of the statues' chests open, revealing a glowing core. The energy within pulses ominously before beams of light shoot toward Ryu. He darts between them, the beams leaving scorch marks on the temple walls as they miss their mark.

"Ryu, be careful!" I shout, my heart hammering in my chest. Nikko presses closer to me, trembling as she watches, her fear palpable.

Ryu moves with the grace and precision of someone who has fought countless battles. He dodges, blocks, and counters, but the guardians are relentless, their spears and beams forming a deadly web around him. For a moment, I feel torn—after all we've seen, part of me is still terrified of what Ryu has become. But another part of me can't help but feel a deep, painful concern for him.

"He's... incredible," Llamiryl mutters, her voice a mixture of awe and fear. "But these guardians... they're not going to stop."

With a swift motion, Ryu clenches his fist. Several of the cores within the statues crack and shatter under his power, sending shockwaves through the temple. One statue fires another beam, but Ryu deflects it toward another guardian, destroying it in the process. The remaining statues attempt to fire again, but Ryu is too fast. He charges forward, slicing through their cores with a series of swift, decisive strikes. One by one, the towering guardians crumble, their once-imposing forms reduced to rubble.

As the dust settles, Ryu stands among the remnants of the battle, breathing heavily. He deactivates his lightsaber and moves on, unfazed by the destruction. Nikko and I let out a collective sigh of relief, the tension slowly easing from our bodies. Llamiryl remains quiet, her expression contemplative, as if she's trying to reconcile what she's just witnessed.

We follow Ryu into a massive chamber, more beautiful than I could have imagined. Waterfalls cascade down the back wall, the soft sound of rushing water filling the space and adding to the serene ambiance. The glowing orbs illuminate the room, casting a tranquil, almost ethereal light over everything. In the center of the chamber is a pedestal, and resting atop it, a glowing cube hovers in mid-air.

"What is that?" Nikko asks in awe, her eyes wide with wonder.

Ryu approaches the pedestal, and with a simple wave of his hand, the cube floats into his palm. He kneels, focusing intently on the object as it hums with energy. Compartments in the cube open, revealing red glowing elements that pulse ominously as Ryu concentrates, his face emotionless but intent.

We watch in silence, unsure of what's happening or what that strange object could be. After what feels like an eternity, the cube's compartments close, the glow fading. Ryu places the cube into a pouch at his side and turns to leave, but before he can take a step, a shadowy figure emerges from the other side of the chamber, blocking his path.

The figure pulls back their hood, revealing a woman with red skin and dark, menacing armor. Her orange eyes glow with fury as she pulls out a weapon similar to Ryu's—a lightsaber.

"I take it you're the one who slaughtered my troops and destroyed my ship?" she sneers, her voice dripping with disdain. Ryu remains silent, his hand gripping his lightsaber hilt as he faces her, unflinching.

The woman eyes him, her gaze sharp and calculating. "Most impressive. But there's something different about you. You wear the armor of a Sith, you fight like a Sith, yet you are not Sith. Nor are you Jedi. So, tell me... what are you?"

Ryu charges without warning, igniting his lightsaber in mid-stride. The woman barely evades his initial strike, her arrogant expression shifting to one of irritation. She retaliates swiftly, her strikes precise and deadly, but Ryu matches her blow for blow, blocking and parrying with ease.

She raises her free hand, tearing chunks of the stone wall and flinging them toward Ryu. With fluid, almost effortless movements, he slices through the debris, advancing relentlessly.

"You are strong," she admits, her voice laced with frustration. "But strength alone won't save—"

Before she can finish, Ryu launches a ferocious onslaught, his strikes relentless and swift. She struggles to keep pace, her earlier confidence faltering with every missed blow. Desperately, she forces him back with a surge of energy, but Ryu lands gracefully, his stance unshaken.

"I'm not surprised, you are qui—"

Her words are cut off by Ryu's renewed assault. His attacks come faster, more aggressive, driving her back with every strike. With one final, decisive move, he severs her arm—the one holding her lightsaber. She lets out a piercing scream, collapsing to the ground as she desperately tries to push him away with a forceful blast of energy.

Ryu advances, unaffected by her desperate attempts. Fear fills her eyes as he raises his lightsaber. "Please, no!" she begs, but her plea falls on deaf ears. With a single, merciless stroke, he decapitates her, her head rolling away as her body collapses lifelessly to the floor.

The chamber falls into a deafening silence, the echoes of the battle still ringing in my ears. My heart pounds in my chest as I stand frozen, staring at the scene before me. I can't look away, even though every fiber of my being screams for me to turn, to shield Nikko from this nightmare. She clutches my hand, her grip tight, her small body trembling with fear. I glance down at her, her wide eyes reflecting the same horror I feel deep inside.

Even Llamiryl, usually so composed, stands in stunned silence, her usual sharp gaze softened by the brutality we've just witnessed. The woman's scream still reverberates in the air, her severed arm lying discarded on the ground like some terrible reminder of Ryu's cold efficiency.

Ryu deactivates his lightsaber, the hum of the blade fading as quickly as it had sprung to life. He moves without hesitation, hooking the weapon back onto his belt with practiced ease. With a simple motion of his hand, her discarded lightsaber flies into his grasp. I watch, numb, as he stashes it in his pouch, his movements methodical, without a shred of hesitation or remorse.

He doesn't say a word. He doesn't look back at her. Without a glance or acknowledgment, Ryu turns and strides out of the chamber, leaving us behind in the aftermath of his destruction. My heart aches as I watch him go, unsure of who he truly is anymore.

Suddenly, the world around us shifts violently. The ground beneath our feet trembles, and the walls ripple like a reflection in disturbed water. The air itself seems to shudder, and the chamber transforms before our eyes. I instinctively pull Nikko closer, her small hand clutching mine tightly as the once crumbling and battle-scarred temple morphs into something far more sinister and imposing. The floor beneath us smooths out, polished and pristine, while the chamber takes on a grander, more ominous shape.

We find ourselves in a place that feels like it has seen centuries of dark power. Banners hang from the ceiling, each aligned perfectly on either side of the vast hall. Every banner is different—ripped, torn, or scorched—each a symbol of a world, a tribe, a culture now lost to history. They loom overhead like the silent witnesses of forgotten wars, their colors faded, their emblems scarred. Llamiryl, normally composed, speaks in a voice barely above a whisper, her words trembling with horror. "Those banners... they are from conquered worlds and tribes... all destroyed by Ryu's hand."

Her words hit me like a physical blow. I turn slowly, my breath catching in my throat as I take in the sheer number of banners, the weight of their silent testimony pressing down on me. How many lives? How many worlds? The doubt I had fought so hard to suppress begins to seep back in, cold and unrelenting. The man I thought I knew—could he have truly done this? What other horrors lay buried within him? My heart tightens, fear gnawing at the edges of my resolve. Nikko's grip on my hand tightens, her eyes wide and filled with fear and confusion. I want to comfort her, to tell her everything will be alright, but even I am struggling to believe that now.

At the far end of the chamber, my eyes are drawn to a set of wide stone steps. At the top sits a massive throne, carved from dark stone and looming like an ominous shadow over the entire hall. And there, seated with an air of authority that chills my very soul, is Ryu's master. His figure is cloaked in heavy, dark robes, the dim light reflecting off the cold, polished surface of his armor. His eyes are hidden, but I can feel the weight of his gaze from across the room, as if he is sizing up not just Ryu, but us as well.

From the other side of the chamber, a massive set of doors opens with a low, echoing groan. The door parts in the middle, and through it steps Ryu. The sight of him sends another shiver down my spine. His dark armor, the same armor I've come to associate with bloodshed and destruction, gleams under the chamber's dim light. His cape, tattered at the edges, flows behind him like a shadow clinging to him. He walks with purpose, his posture strong, but there's something unsettling about his calmness. He approaches the throne and, with a graceful fluidity, kneels before the steps leading to his master.

The master's eyes lock onto him as Ryu reaches into his pouch and pulls out the very same cube we saw him obtain earlier. It hovers in the air above Ryu's hand for a moment before floating gently toward the master, suspended by an unseen force. The cube hovers above the master's outstretched hand, and as it does, the engravings across its surface begin to glow a deep crimson. It hums with an energy that feels ancient and malevolent, the light reflecting in Ryu's emotionless visor.

The master's voice breaks the silence. "Did you come across any... resistance?"

"Yes, my lord," Ryu replies, his voice steady as he reaches into his pouch once more, pulling out the lightsaber he claimed from the woman he killed.

"And witnesses?" The question lingers, each word dripping with authority.

"No, my lord," Ryu responds, his tone cold and unwavering. With deliberate precision, he begins to place lightsaber after lightsaber before the steps of the throne, a total of thirty-seven, their hilts clattering against the polished floor.

I feel Nikko tug on my sleeve, her voice barely a whisper, trembling with disbelief. "So many..."

As if that weren't horrifying enough, he then pulls out two banners. Both are torn, stained with the blood of those who once fought under them. I stare at them, confused. The first banner is emblazoned with a symbol I don't recognize—a large, intricate design, bold and authoritative. The second bears a different emblem, one I only faintly recall from earlier memories—the Sith Empire.

Llamiryl's eyes narrow, her expression darkening as she stares at the two banners. "The first one," she says softly, her voice laden with understanding, "that's the banner of the Republic—a massive government that spanned countless worlds. The other... you've seen before. It's the symbol of the Sith Empire, the very one that Ryu served under."

My heart sinks as the weight of her words hits me. The Republic. The Sith Empire. Two massive powers I barely know anything about, and yet, their influence has shaped Ryu's entire life. I look back at the banners, my mind racing.

"So, that battle we witnessed... the one with the soldiers and warriors clashing," I murmur, piecing it together. "They were fighting for dominance, weren't they? Two opposing sides. But... were they also fighting for something else? That cube, perhaps?" I wonder aloud, my thoughts spiraling.

The idea takes root in my mind—the possibility that the horrific battle we saw wasn't just a fight for control, but a struggle over something even more powerful. My eyes drift back to the banners and the lightsabers strewn at Ryu's feet. How much blood had been spilled over that one mysterious object?

Nikko, still clutching my hand, whispers quietly, "Why did they have to fight? Why did Papa have to fight?"

I have no answers for her. None of us do. Only the haunting memories of Ryu's past, the atrocities he had committed, and the powerful forces that had shaped his life remain. I feel the chill of the hallway settle over me once more as Llamiryl gives me a grim look, acknowledging that the battle for dominance and power had long since consumed the galaxy Ryu came from. And now, it threatens to consume us all.

"You kill without mercy," the master's voice fills the chamber, dark and resonant. His gaze shifts between the pile of lightsabers and the kneeling figure of Ryu. "Yet, I sense turmoil within you." His words hang in the air like a threat.

"No, master," Ryu denies immediately, but before he can finish, he suddenly grasps at his throat, his breath cut short by an invisible hand. He gasps, choking as he claws at the unseen force constricting his airway.

"Fork your tongue at me, Ryu?" the master hisses, rising slightly from his throne. "Do not lie to me. I can sense it. Your doubt, your fear. And if you allow such weaknesses to fester, they will consume you. The Dark Side does not tolerate hesitation. If you falter, even for a moment, you will be lost. Doubt leads to defeat, and I will not allow you to become weak."

I watch, horrified, as Ryu's body writhes in pain, his hands still clawing at his neck. My heart races, each second of his suffering filling me with dread and anger. How can someone be so cruel? This isn't training—it's torture.

Llamiryl looks equally shaken, her face pale as she watches Ryu struggle for air. I see it in her eyes—she's beginning to understand, just as I am, how deeply the shadow of his master has sunk into him. There's a flicker of something else too—hope. That spark of resistance within Ryu, that guilt, that fear, might be the very thing that could save him one day.

Finally, the unseen grip around Ryu's throat releases, and he falls forward, gasping for breath, his hands trembling as they press against the cold floor. The silence is suffocating.

"Go to Dagobah," the master commands coldly. "There you will find a cave, a place where the Dark Side is strong. Go there and meditate. Channel the power of the Dark Side and rid yourself of these weaknesses."

Ryu, still on his knees, nods, his voice rasping. "Yes, master."

With a simple motion of his hand, the lightsabers float back into Ryu's pouch, and he stands, his movements stiff as he exits the chamber without another word.

A brilliant light suddenly fills the room, blinding us for a moment, and when it fades, we find ourselves once more in the endless hallway. The weight of what we've just witnessed lingers heavily in the air. I can feel Nikko trembling beside me, and I wrap my arm around her, offering what little comfort I can. But even as I hold her, my mind is racing. The atrocities we've seen—what else is buried deep within Ryu's past? What else has he tried to hide? And, most terrifying of all, is he strong enough to overcome it?

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

Then, everything shifts. The ground beneath our feet shakes violently, and the walls seem to ripple, as if the darkness itself is coming alive. My heart pounds, and before I can say a word, a deafening roar reverberates through the corridor. It's not just a sound—it's a presence, an overwhelming force of malevolence that crashes into us like a tidal wave.

Suddenly, my head explodes with pain. It's worse than before. My vision blurs, and I can barely stand. I press my hands to my temples, trying to keep my head from splitting apart. The cry... the voice... it echoes directly in my mind, its words like shards of glass slicing through my thoughts.

"You think you can stand against me, little shadows? Pathetic, broken things, clinging to hope. But I see you, every weakness, every fear. You are nothing—frail sparks in a void too vast for you to comprehend."

The voice, the Shadowfell's voice, twists through me, each word sinking deeper into my skull. I try to block it out, but the sound is everywhere, inside and outside, as if the very air is vibrating with its malice. My legs tremble, and I lean against the wall for support, but even the wall feels unstable beneath my touch. Nikko screams beside me, her hands clutching her head, tears streaming down her face as she drops to her knees. The agony is unbearable, and I feel helpless—powerless to protect her.

"You, Talia," the voice hisses, "I will enjoy watching you break. You fight so hard, but for what? For a man who is already mine? You tread in my domain, thinking you can pull him from the abyss. You fool! You will only fall with him. You think you can defy me? Do you not see? He was lost long before you ever knew him!"

Llamiryl's face contorts with pain, her hands pressed tightly to her temples as if trying to block out the voice, but I can tell it's useless. Even she, the High Priestess, can barely stand against the torment. Her breath comes in ragged gasps, and she stumbles forward, trying to focus, but her strength is waning. The Shadowfell's presence is everywhere, oppressive and suffocating, dragging us down into a pit of despair.

"Your defiance is nothing but a whisper in the void, Talia. I will tear him apart, piece by piece, memory by memory. And you will watch, powerless, as he succumbs to the darkness he was born to serve. I will strip away every shred of the man you thought you knew, until there is nothing left but my will. And when he is mine, you will beg for mercy, but there will be none."

The voice claws at my mind, each word twisting like a blade inside me. The pain intensifies, and I grit my teeth, feeling as if my head is being crushed. Llamiryl drops to her knees beside Nikko, barely able to keep herself upright, her face drenched in sweat as she fights to stay conscious. My heart pounds in my chest, and all I can hear is the Shadowfell's voice, echoing and twisting, breaking my resolve.

"You thought you could protect him? You thought you could save him from me? How laughable. I will devour him, consume every part of his soul, until there is nothing left but a hollow shell. And when I am done with him, you will be next. I will make you feel every ounce of the pain he endured, and you will beg for death long before it finds you."

The ground shakes harder, and the air itself feels like it's pressing down on me, suffocating me. I try to scream, but the sound is swallowed by the force of the voice. I can feel the despair creeping in, the sense of inevitability, of failure. Nikko sobs, her voice broken, and Llamiryl's strength seems to be fading. We're trapped, caught in the grip of something far more powerful than we could have ever imagined.

Then, as quickly as it began, the shaking stops. The violent tremors cease, the oppressive voice fades into the silence, leaving only the dull, lingering throb in my head. Slowly, I unclench my hands from my temples, the unbearable pressure easing. But it's not gone. I can still feel the ache, a reminder of the Shadowfell's presence. Beside me, Nikko sobs, clutching her head in agony. I pull her into my arms, holding her tight, whispering soothing words. She's trembling, her small body shaking against mine, and I can feel her fear.

Llamiryl stands a few feet away, her face damp with sweat from the effort of resisting the Shadowfell's assault. But to my surprise, she's smiling. A strange, knowing smile that unsettles me.

"What's so funny?" I manage to ask, the pain in my head slowly receding. My voice is shaky, but I manage to meet her eyes.

Llamiryl's smile widens, her gaze steady. "Ryu is putting up a decent fight," she says, her voice calm, almost amused. "The Shadowfell is getting desperate."

I blink, surprised. "You think so?" I ask, glancing down at Nikko, who is starting to breathe more steadily.

Llamiryl nods, her expression confident. "Did you hear it? The anger in its voice, the way it lashed out at us... That kind of fury? It's a sign. Ryu is resisting, and the Shadowfell doesn't like it."

A flicker of hope stirs in my chest, something I haven't felt in a while. Maybe we really can do this. Maybe we can save him.

Llamiryl's face softens. "But we can't stop now. The Shadowfell is losing control, yes, but it's still strong. We need to move quickly. I don't know how much more Ryu can endure."

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

She summons another door, the familiar light spilling from the frame. I glance down at Nikko, gently wiping away her tears. She nods at me, her grip tightening on my arm, her courage slowly returning.

As we step through the door, the surroundings shift, and we find ourselves on the bridge of a ship hurling through that strange, mesmerizing tunnel of light—hyperspace, as Ryu once called it. The room is quiet, save for the soft hum of the ship's systems. Ryu is seated behind the controls, his hands moving swiftly across the console as he adjusts a few settings. His dark, menacing armor gleams in the dim light of the bridge, and even though I've seen him in it so many times now, it still sends a shiver down my spine. It feels wrong, like the Ryu I know is lost somewhere behind that cold, impenetrable exterior.

In the corner of the room, I notice a strange, squat mechanical being—some kind of droid, I assume. Its appendage is extended into the wall, spinning with loud, rhythmic clicks. It moves with a purpose, though I have no idea what it's doing. I've seen enough droids by now to know it's a machine, but this one seems... different. It's smaller, more compact, with a domed head and a cylindrical body. I glance at Llamiryl, but she's focused on Ryu, her brow furrowed.

Suddenly, Ryu messes with a few controls, and the ship lurches slightly as it exits hyperspace. Before us, the swirling tunnel of light vanishes, replaced by the vast, dark expanse of space. But it's what lies ahead that steals my breath. A new world.

The planet is shrouded in thick, swirling clouds, its surface barely visible beneath the dense, misty atmosphere. Unlike the other worlds we've seen, this one feels... different. The colors are muted, greens and browns blending together, and the air seems to ripple with a strange, otherworldly energy. Even from this distance, I can sense the ancient, wild nature of the planet. It's unlike anything I've ever seen, and yet, despite everything we've witnessed so far, it's still mesmerizing.

"So, this is Dagobah," I hear Ryu mutter to himself. His voice is low, almost contemplative, though his posture remains rigid, focused.

The ship begins its descent, moving gracefully through the planet's dense atmosphere. As we break through the clouds, I catch my first glimpse of the surface. It's a swamp. A vast, endless swamp. Thick trees twist and curl towards the sky, their roots tangled and gnarled in the murky water below. Vines hang like webs, draping the landscape in eerie shadows. The air is heavy, thick with moisture, and the fog rolls across the ground like a living thing. Dagobah feels alive, in a way that's unsettling. The whole environment hums with the presence of something ancient, something primal.

The ship touches down softly, the landing far smoother than I expect. Ryu moves quickly, his fingers flying over the console as he powers down the ship. I glance around, still captivated by the view outside, but my attention snaps back to Ryu as he stands from his seat.

He presses a button, and the landing ramp begins to lower with a mechanical hiss. But before stepping out, Ryu turns toward the small droid. "L5, stay with the ship," he orders, his tone firm but not harsh.

The droid lets out a series of beeps in response—almost like speech, though I can't understand it—and retracts its appendage from the wall. It turns around, obediently following Ryu's command.

Ryu takes a deep breath, stepping to the edge of the ramp, surveying the swampy landscape before him. I can't tell what he's thinking, but he seems tense, more so than usual. The swamp stretches out in every direction, its thick, humid air clinging to everything. The smell of wet earth and decaying plant life fills my senses, and the sounds of strange creatures echo through the trees. It's like stepping into a forgotten world, one untouched by time.

The environment is oppressive, heavy with the weight of history and something more... sinister. Ryu steps forward, his boots sinking slightly into the soft, damp ground. I follow close behind, with Nikko gripping my hand tightly. Her wide eyes dart around the swamp, a mix of fear and fascination on her face. Even Llamiryl, who has been through so much already, seems unnerved by the place. It's not just the landscape; it's the feeling that something is watching us, hidden in the shadows of the trees. Dagobah is alive in ways that I can't quite comprehend.

Ryu moves with purpose, but there's a tension in his posture that I haven't seen before. He's preparing for something, though I'm not sure what. As we follow him deeper into the swamp, I can't help but feel that whatever lies ahead will test him—and us—in ways we can't yet imagine.

The journey feels endless as we continue through the swamp, the thick air weighing heavily on my lungs. Every step feels labored, the moisture clinging to us, seeping into our bones. The sound of the wildlife is eerie—soft chirps, distant growls, and splashes that send ripples across the murky water. The occasional glint of movement beneath the surface makes me quicken my pace, instinctively wanting to move further from the water's edge. But Ryu, with his dark, menacing armor, strides forward with purpose. He seems to know exactly where he's going, his steps deliberate and sure, as though something unseen is guiding him.

Then, just ahead, the trees part slightly, revealing what he's been searching for. A cave. But this is no ordinary cave. Even from where I stand, I can feel the malevolence radiating from it, an almost tangible darkness that pulls at the edges of my senses. The entrance looms before us, twisted roots and vines hanging down like skeletal fingers reaching toward the ground. The air around it feels colder, denser, like it's a different world entirely. The mouth of the cave is wide, but it feels as though it's swallowing light, drawing everything toward it in a slow, inevitable pull. I feel a shudder run through me. This is no natural place.

And then I see him—a figure seated on a large rock just beside the cave entrance. The man is old, his long, gray beard reaching down to his chest, his robe worn but neat, draped over his thin frame. He puffs on a pipe, the smoke curling lazily upward, and next to him, leaning casually against the rock, is a long wooden walking stick. His eyes... they are milky white, unfocused, and I realize with a start that he's blind. Yet, despite his blindness, he seems at ease, entirely aware of our presence.

Ryu stops a few paces away, his hand hovering over the hilt of his lightsaber. The tension in his posture makes my stomach twist in fear. I glance at Nikko and Llamiryl—both of them are staring at the old man, uncertain. A part of me dreads that Ryu might strike him down without a second thought, but there's something different this time. He hesitates, his hand lingering over the weapon, studying the man before him.

Then the old man speaks, his voice low and gravelly, yet calm. "No need to draw your weapon."

The man's head turns slightly, his clouded eyes locking onto Ryu as if he can see him clearly, though he's blind. How? I can't understand it. Ryu was moving so silently, so carefully. How could this man know?

Ryu's stance doesn't change, though his hand remains close to his lightsaber. "You guard this place?" His voice is measured, calculating. His eyes shift between the old man and the cave beyond, clearly assessing whether this frail-looking elder is a threat.

The old man chuckles softly, taking another drag from his pipe before letting out a slow puff of smoke. "Guard?" His lips curl into a smile. "No... I am merely a watcher."

Ryu's posture relaxes slightly, his hand falling back to his side, though he keeps his gaze locked on the old man. "Then you'll let me pass?" His tone is laced with doubt, as though even he isn't sure whether he truly believes the man will allow him to enter so easily.

The old man doesn't. Ryu starts moving towards the cave, his gaze occasionally drifting to the old man. The old man meanwhile simply puffs on his pipe, the smoke swirling lazily between them.

"Your path is not destined yet," the old man then says, his voice gentle but firm, the words stopping Ryu in his tracks. Ryu turns, his brow furrowing beneath his mask, as if unsure what to make of this stranger. "You believe you have no choice," the old man continues, his blind eyes seeming to pierce through the layers of Ryu's armor. "But that isn't true. You always have a choice."

Ryu stiffens at that, his voice low and dangerous. "What could you possibly know about me?" His tone suggests he's on edge, but something in the old man's words is getting through it seems.

The old man takes another slow drag from his pipe, exhaling thoughtfully as his smile fades. "I know you feel a weight that you cannot shake," he says, his blind eyes seeming to look straight through Ryu. "A burden you carry, heavier than your armor. It clings to you like a shadow, even when you believe you're free. You were sent here to meditate, to quiet the storm inside you, to seek peace. But you believe that peace can be found inside that cave. Don't you?"

Ryu remains silent, the tension in his stance betraying the conflict within him. His gaze remains fixed on the old man, processing his words.

After a moment, Ryu finally speaks, his voice low and uncertain. "Won't it?"

The old man chuckles softly, tapping the side of his pipe. "You already know the answer," he says, his tone calm and measured. "Whatever you are looking for, inside this cave you will find it."

Ryu turns his gaze back toward the cave entrance, the darkness within it almost calling to him. He glances back at the old man, who gives a simple, peaceful nod, and without another word, Ryu takes a deep breath and steps toward the cave.

I feel a lump in my throat as I follow him, with Nikko and Llamiryl close behind. Whatever lies inside this cave, it feels as though it will change everything.

Inside the cave, Ryu ignites his lightsaber, the yellow glow casting an eerie light across the cave's damp walls. The darkness seems to ripple away from the blade, retreating but still present, clinging to the cave like an oppressive weight. His armor, heavy and menacing, reflects faint glimmers of light, and his masked face reveals nothing of his emotions. The red visor on his mask gives him an almost inhuman appearance, a figure of power and intimidation.

I follow behind him, trying to keep my breath steady, but the air in here is thick, suffocating. It clings to my skin, to my lungs, like the cave itself is alive. Something moves along the side of the cave, shifting between the shadows. I feel Nikko tense beside me, her grip on my hand tightening. I can barely make out the form—a silhouette pacing, lurking, but always just out of sight.

Ryu notices it too, turning his head slightly in its direction, his lightsaber raised as he approaches. The roots hang down like skeletal fingers, obscuring the figure in the darkness. He moves closer, and the shadow suddenly lunges. A flash of motion, the grotesque form surging at him, but it's stopped by the roots. I flinch, my heart racing as Nikko lets out a frightened gasp.

Llamiryl's face remains calm, though I see the flicker of tension in her eyes. The figure presses against the roots, its body decomposed and decayed, skin hanging in sickly patches. And then, more emerge. Arms, faces, all twisted in unnatural ways. They thrash at the roots, grotesque bodies swaying, but never breaking through.

Ryu swings his lightsaber in response, its glow tracing through the air as more rotten arms lunge at him. He cuts through the long, hanging roots, and that's when I recognize some of them. The Jedi. The ones he killed. Their faces—those faces! Twisted, distorted in agony. The whispers surround us, their words lost in the echo of the cave, unintelligible, yet filled with a deep, haunting sadness. I shiver, and the air grows even colder, the temperature sinking as the figures lurch and sway.

And then, just as suddenly, they stop. Frozen.

Ryu looks around, his breathing heavy beneath the mask, though his face remains hidden. He exhales slowly, his armored form casting long shadows on the cave walls. The bodies hang there, lifeless now, no longer reaching for him. He stares at them for a long moment, as if waiting for them to move again. Then, he turns away.

I follow his gaze, but when I look back—there's nothing. The corpses are gone, vanished into the shadows, as if they had never been there at all. Nikko grips my arm tighter, confused, and I feel a chill crawl up my spine. It was like they were never real.

Ryu says nothing, pressing forward into the thickening mist that fills the cave, his yellow lightsaber cutting through it, though barely. The mist seems alive, swirling and heavy, almost pushing back against the light of his blade. I can't see more than a few feet in front of me now, but I stay close, my heart pounding in my chest. This place... it's more than a cave. It feels alive, malevolent, like it knows us, knows him.

And then, through the haze, we see it. A child, suspended in the air, shackled and bound by chains. My heart stops. It's Ryu. The young version of him, the one we saw back on Kessel, in that awful memory. He's wearing those same tattered rags, his face drawn with exhaustion and pain. The chains pull at him, binding him, holding him in place like a broken doll.

"Ryu..." I whisper, barely able to get the words out.

Suddenly, the sound of chains echoes in the air, metallic and cold. I flinch as I see them—chains that weren't there before. They wrap around Ryu, the present Ryu, coiling around his arms, his legs, a slave collar snapping around his neck. The sound of it locking into place is like a crack of thunder in the silence.

Ryu tenses, grabbing at the chains, trying to break them, but they don't budge. His muscles strain, the chains clinking and tightening, pulling him down. His breaths come in harsh gasps, and he grits his teeth, pulling harder, his lightsaber shaking in his grip. But nothing works. The chains hold him fast, dragging him down.

Nikko's small voice trembles beside me. "Why is this happening to him?"

Llamiryl's voice is quiet but certain. "Because the chains never left. They were always there... invisible, but real."

I can't tear my eyes away, watching as this powerful figure, this warrior, is reduced to struggling against his metal bonds. He pulls and pulls, but the chains only grow tighter. His movements become frantic, desperate, and his masked face turns toward the younger version of himself—still shackled, still bound in the air like a symbol of everything he can't escape.

Tears well up in my eyes, and I hear Nikko sob softly beside me. "Why can't he break free?"

"He was never free," Llamiryl says softly. "The chains... they were always there, even if he couldn't see them."

Ryu lets out a frustrated, pained growl, his entire body trembling as he fights the bindings. The Jedi he killed, their faces twisted in torment, linger in the background, a haunting reminder of the lives he's taken, of the guilt that festers deep within him.

But the chains refuse to break. With one final, exhausted breath, Ryu collapses to the ground, his body bound, the collar around his neck glowing faintly, as if mocking his struggle.

For a moment, all is still. The chains hang there, pulsing with their invisible hold, binding him to a past he can never escape. And then, as if the cave itself is relenting, the chains begin to disappear. One by one, they fade into the mist, leaving Ryu lying there, gasping for breath.

Ryu lies on the ground, breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling with the weight of his exhaustion. Those chains are still present in my mind. I can feel their grip, their suffocating presence. He doesn't move right away—just stares at the spot where the younger version of himself was suspended moments ago, chained and helpless.

But then, I realize with a sinking feeling that the younger Ryu is gone. No trace remains, as if the vision had never existed at all. The chains, the child, all of it—vanished into the depths of the cave, leaving only the heavy silence behind.

Nikko lets out a small, confused whimper. "Where did he go?"

Llamiryl's face is tight, her eyes scanning the empty space where the young Ryu once hung. "The past is gone. But the weight of it... still remains."

Ryu slowly pushes himself up, his movements sluggish, as though the struggle with the chains has taken more from him than just his strength. The dim light from his lightsaber flickers across the cave walls, casting long shadows as he stands tall once more. For a moment, he just stands there, silent and still, staring at the empty air, and I can almost hear the lingering echo of those chains that held him—chains that are no longer visible, but will forever bind him.

Without a word, he turns, his back to the emptiness that once held his younger self, and he steps forward. The cave, thick with mist, seems to part as he moves. We follow behind, the eerie quiet of the cave pressing against us, as if the cave itself is holding its breath.

Ryu walks toward the exit, his steps heavy, his presence quieter now. And though he's left the vision behind, I know he carries the weight of it with him still.

The chains, like the child, may be gone—but their presence remains.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

We step out of the cave, my heart still hammering in my chest from what we had just seen. The serenity of Dagobah's surface greets us like a strange, distant memory—a peaceful contrast to the horrors we had witnessed inside. The air feels thick with moisture, the distant calls of strange creatures echoing through the fog. The swamp feels alive, the moss-covered trees and murky waters shifting with unseen life. It's a bizarre relief, like stepping from a nightmare into a strange but calming dream.

Ryu steps forward, his boots sinking slightly into the wet ground as he surveys the landscape. His dark, imposing figure stands out against the eerie green glow of the swamp. He turns his gaze to where the old man had been sitting, but the rock is now empty, the old man gone as if he were never there. Ryu's posture is tense, his breathing heavier, as if the weight of what he saw in the cave still clings to him. I can feel it too—the heaviness of it, the haunting realization that even though Ryu has no visible chains, they still exist.

I glance at Llamiryl, who has her eyes on Ryu, her brow furrowed in concern. She can sense it too. "He's... in turmoil," Llamiryl whispers, her voice barely audible. "What he saw... it's shaken him deeply."

Ryu takes a deep breath, then without a word, he disappears into the swamp, his figure swallowed by the thick fog and twisted roots of Dagobah. The soft sounds of his footsteps fade into the distance, leaving us standing there in silence. I want to reach out, to call after him, but I know I can't. Not now.

The memory flashes brightly, the swamp dissolving around us, and we find ourselves back in the endless hallway. The transition is sudden, the stillness of the void a jarring contrast to the heavy atmosphere of the swamp.

My breath catches in my throat as I replay the memory in my mind—the cave, the shadows, the chains. The serenity of Dagobah feels like a distant echo now, replaced by the unsettling reminder of Ryu's past. What we saw... the young Ryu, bound in chains, the figures lunging at him from the shadows—it's a haunting image I can't shake. And yet, it was all a memory. Something Ryu endured long ago.

Nikko is the first to break the silence, her small hand trembling in mine. "Talia," she whispers, her voice shaky. "Why was Papa... why was he still in chains? He's been free this whole time, hasn't he?"

I hesitate, glancing at Llamiryl for support. The images of Ryu bound by invisible chains, struggling against the weight of something unseen, still swirl in my mind. "What we saw, Nikko... that was from his past," I say softly, kneeling beside her. "Back then, Ryu might have still felt like he was trapped. Even if the physical chains were gone, the things he went through still held him captive in other ways."

Nikko's brow furrows, tears brimming in her eyes. "But he got away. He's not a slave anymore. So why... why would he still feel like that?"

Llamiryl steps closer, her voice calm but filled with the weight of understanding. "The chains we saw were a reflection of what Ryu felt back then. He was still enslaved by his past, by everything that had been done to him. Even if he was no longer physically bound, the trauma, the darkness, it stayed with him." She pauses, her gaze thoughtful as she continues. "That was the cave showing him what he struggled with—what he had to overcome."

I nod, my thoughts aligning with hers. "The darkness... the way he was raised, everything he went through... it left marks that are hard to erase, even when you're free." My voice falters, the thought of Ryu carrying those invisible chains for so long tugging at my heart. "He must have felt that weight for a long time."

Nikko wipes her eyes, her confusion still evident. "But... does he still feel that way? Does Papa still think he's in chains?"

The question lingers in the air, heavy and unsettling. I don't know how to answer her. I look to Llamiryl, who glances down the endless hallway, her expression thoughtful. "We can't be sure," she finally says. "That memory was from long ago. Ryu has come a long way since then. He's been fighting those chains, trying to break free."

I nod, pulling Nikko close. "He's different now, Nikko. He's stronger. But..." I trail off, wondering myself if Ryu still feels the burden of those invisible chains. "But maybe... maybe part of him still struggles with it. Maybe those doubts still linger, even if he doesn't show it."

We stand in silence, the weight of Ryu's past pressing on us all. Nikko leans against me, her small form trembling. "I just hope he knows that," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "That he's not alone anymore."

I hug her tighter, my own heart aching with the thought. "We'll make sure he knows, Nikko," I whisper, determination settling deep within me. "We won't let him face those chains again. Not alone."

I can't help but let my mind wander, questions filling my thoughts. What will Ryu do now? He didn't meditate as his master commanded. He didn't confront or quell the doubts within him. What will he say when he returns? Will he lie? Try to deceive the Sith Lord who seems to see right through him? How would his master react when he finds out that the darkness Ryu was supposed to embrace still gnaws at him, that he didn't overcome the turmoil within?

The anxiety gnaws at me. I can't shake the feeling of dread that builds in my chest. If Ryu couldn't break free of those chains, if he couldn't face his doubts, what will happen next?

"Will his master punish him?" Nikko's small voice breaks the silence as we walk through the threshold, her hand still clutching mine tightly. Her question, innocent and yet filled with fear, echoes my own thoughts.

"I... I don't know," I admit softly, glancing down at her worried expression. "But his master... he's cruel, Nikko. He might not be so forgiving."

Llamiryl, walking ahead of us, doesn't turn but speaks with the same measured calm. "Ryu didn't meditate. He didn't release the turmoil within him." She pauses, her gaze forward. "But what's important is that he's still fighting. That struggle within him, it means he hasn't succumbed completely."

The thought brings a sliver of comfort, but not much. What would Ryu's master, the man who shaped him into this weapon of destruction, do when he realizes his pupil is still battling doubt? My mind spins with possibilities, none of them good. Would Ryu lie? Would he admit the truth?

I can only hope that whatever comes next, Ryu finds the strength to face it—not with the darkness that his master commands of him, but with the light I know still flickers somewhere inside him.

How much longer can he keep up this fight?

Llamiryl steps forward, her hand rising gracefully as she summons another door into the void. The familiar, glowing outline of the door appears, casting faint light on the shadowy expanse around us. We hesitate for just a moment, and I feel the weight of everything we've just witnessed pulling at me. Ryu's memory, the chains, the young version of himself—the doubt that still lingered in his heart after all this time. I wonder if he's ever truly broken free of it, or if those chains still weigh him down.

"Come," Llamiryl says softly, though her voice carries the same quiet authority it always does. She gestures for us to follow, and one by one, we step through the threshold.