The morning air is crisp as I stand in the newly cleared area, taking in the wide circle of space I've carved out of the forest. It's satisfying, in a way, to see it open and ready, giving us more control over our surroundings. Apollo's in the cave, using the probes to scan the dungeons for any hint of the Shadowfell's presence, but so far, his reports come back empty. Frustration tightens in my chest with each negative response. We're running out of time, and the thought gnaws at me.

Around the camp, the usual routine hums along. Nikko, Talia, and Rebecca are running their training drills, though Rebecca's face is a mix of reluctance and fatigue as she struggles to keep up. IG-22 marches along the perimeter on his patrol, the rhythmic stomp of his metal feet keeping time. DP-8 and the Eye Bots are stationed strategically, their sensors scanning constantly for any movement or threat.

Now, with everything in place and the camp secure, it feels right to start my next project. I step over to the makeshift table in the center of the clearing, where the book I got from Eldrin lies open. The pages are worn and delicate, the text a series of intricate symbols and diagrams that detail something intriguing, something I hadn't expected to find here—Transmutation magic. I'd planned on making modifications to the speeder, perhaps adjusting the fuel capacity or boosting the repulsorlifts, but the more I read, the more this ancient magic pulls me in.

I trace a hand over the old text, my mind racing with possibilities. There's something... alluring about this idea. The ability to shape, transform, and manipulate raw materials without the need for conventional tools. I scan the diagrams, carefully absorbing every detail.

"What are you doing, Papa?" a small, tired voice asks from behind me.

I turn and see Nikko trudging toward me, her face flushed and her steps slow. Her ears droop a bit, and there's a weariness in her eyes, evidence of her training, but I can see her curiosity igniting as she glances at the book on the table.

"Trying something out," I say, looking back down at the chapter on Transmutation, letting my mind wander over the possibilities it offers.

"And what is it you're trying out?" Nikko asks, her voice carrying that familiar spark of interest. She comes up beside me, peering at the strange symbols on the page with wide eyes.

"Transmutation," I tell her, watching her reaction.

"Transmutation?" She tilts her head, ears perking up, and I see her tail begin to swish with excitement. "What's that?"

I take a deep breath, finding the right words. "It's a form of magic that's been lost to Aranthia for a long time," I explain, gesturing to the text. "It allows someone to manipulate raw materials at a fundamental level, to reshape them and even combine them in new ways—without any conventional tools."

Nikko's eyes widen, her tail flicking back and forth as she absorbs the idea. "So, like... changing things with magic?"

"Yes," I say, nodding. "With Transmutation, I could take something as simple as iron and reshape it, make it stronger, or even combine it with other metals to create something entirely new. The book suggests it can be applied to almost any material."

Her gaze is fixed on me now, her weariness all but forgotten as the idea sinks in. "And... can you do it?"

I place an assortment of ingots—iron, steel, even a piece of mithril—alongside a sturdy log on the table, each one lined up like a blacksmith would. The feel of these raw materials under my fingers is grounding, steadying my mind as I prepare to test this lost magic.

"Hopefully," I say to Nikko, glancing at the book's open pages one last time before returning my focus to the materials laid out.

Nikko tilts her head, her ears twitching with curiosity. "Why is it a lost form of magic?"

I consider my answer, fingers brushing over the coarse grain of the wood and the cold metal surfaces. "According to the book," I begin, "Transmutation was a rare skill, practiced by only a select few mages. It's... a very specific class of magic. Not just anyone could master it."

Nikko listens intently, absorbing every word as if each one contains a piece of the puzzle. "Where are Talia and Rebecca?" I ask, glancing around.

"Talia's making tea," she says, flicking her tail. "And Rebecca's taking a break. That obstacle course you built really wore her out."

I raise an eyebrow, my curiosity piqued. "Is she improving?"

Nikko's face brightens. "Very much so, Papa! She's really good with her knife now, and her shooting is amazing. I think Talia's a bit jealous of Rebecca's shooting skills," she adds with a grin.

I can't help but chuckle, a slight smile tugging at my lips. "I think so too," I reply. Then, turning my attention back to the materials before me, I steel myself for what comes next.

"What are you making?" Nikko asks, sidling closer to the table, her eyes dancing between the scattered ingots and the log.

"I'm starting small," I tell her. "I'll try to make a knife and work my way up from there." Taking a deep breath, I steady my mind, focusing on the way the Force flows through me, on the unique sense it takes here on Aranthia. I can feel a faint hum, an energy lying just beneath the surface. "I hope I can do this."

"I hope so too, Papa," Nikko whispers, her voice soft but filled with confidence.

I hold out my hand, extending it over the materials, letting my focus sharpen like a blade. Transmutation is not unlike the way I summon fire. I close my eyes, imagining the energy coursing through me, connecting with the materials on the table. I see the structure of the wood, feel the strength within the metals. I'm not forcing them into a form; I'm guiding them, asking them to change.

The ingots begin to glow first, a soft light emanating from their surfaces, spreading until the entire table is bathed in a warm, ethereal light. I can feel the iron, steel, and mithril, each one responding to my will, rising in temperature without ever feeling hot. I extend the energy from my hand, connecting to each particle within the wood and metal, sensing their innate qualities.

The log glows next, the wood warming beneath my hand, its structure softening, malleable yet unyielding. The metals begin to shift, melting without losing shape, merging together as I focus. They start to coalesce, forming the rough outline of a blade, the glow intensifying as the shape begins to take form. The wood reshapes, contorting into a solid, defined handle. The materials don't just bond—they fuse in a way that seems to reach their essence, as though the knife were always meant to be there, hidden within them.

Gradually, the glow fades, the shape solidifying. Before me lies a knife, resting on the table, its blade crafted from the metals and its handle formed from the wood. The light dims, and the knife is complete, sleek and polished, each detail as I had envisioned.

I take a deep breath, the effort of the process leaving a faint tremor in my hand. I reach down, lifting the knife, feeling the balance in its weight, the smoothness of the handle under my fingers. It's solid, real.

Nikko gasps, her eyes wide with admiration. "You did it, Papa!"

I turn to her, holding the knife up for her to see. "Yes," I say quietly, a feeling of satisfaction settling over me. "Yes, I did."

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

I pick up the knife, carefully running a finger along the blade's edge. It's sharp—astonishingly sharp—and surprisingly light. The balance is perfect, each movement flowing naturally from my hand to the blade. Testing it on a nearby plank of wood, I'm taken aback by how easily the knife cuts through; it slides cleanly, with barely any resistance.

Nikko's face lights up, her eyes wide with awe. "Papa, that knife is incredible!"

I'm as amazed as she is, feeling the weight of accomplishment settle over me. Setting the knife aside, I gather more materials, laying out iron, mithril, and a length of wood as I prepare for the next challenge. This time, I focus on something larger, a weapon I've always carried with me in spirit. The image forms clearly in my mind—a blade made of folded steel, elegant yet deadly, with a slight curve that balances grace and power.

I close my eyes, reaching out to the materials once more. As I channel my focus, the iron and mithril start to glow, merging and shifting as the metal takes shape. I sense the handle forming first, strong yet slender, fitting comfortably in my grip. The blade begins to extend, its steel folding and layering in my mind's eye, the edge honed to a razor sharpness. When the glow fades, the sword lies before me—exactly as I envisioned.

Nikko's eyes widen as she watches, her tail swishing back and forth, excitement radiating from her. "That was amazing, Papa!" she exclaims, her voice breathless with wonder.

I pick up the sword, feeling the familiar yet unique weight of it in my hand. It's light—remarkably light for its size—and perfectly balanced. I step away from the table, giving the blade a few test swings, slicing through the air with ease. The sword feels as though it's an extension of my arm, moving with fluid grace and a lethal edge.

An idea strikes, and I turn to Nikko, gesturing toward a small pile of rocks, each about the size of an apple, scattered near the table. "Can you toss these rocks at me, Nikko?"

She nods eagerly, scampering over to grab a handful of the stones. Her ears twitch with excitement, her tail flicking energetically as she readies the first rock.

"Ready?" she asks, her voice barely containing her enthusiasm.

I take a stance, positioning the blade in front of me. "Go ahead."

With a quick flick of her wrist, she throws the first rock. It sails through the air, and I swing, slicing cleanly through the stone. The blade cleaves it in half, both pieces falling to the ground with a soft thud.

Nikko's face lights up even more, her ears perking and her tail swishing faster. "That was amazing, Papa! Do it again!"

One by one, she throws several more rocks, and each time, the sword cuts through them effortlessly. The blade's edge is sharp enough to slice through stone without dulling or chipping. The power and precision are undeniable.

"It seems Transmutation not only creates," I murmur, holding the sword up to inspect it under the morning light, "but it also amplifies."

I marvel at the weapon, feeling a deep satisfaction in the magic's power. Nikko beams beside me, her whole body practically buzzing with excitement, and I can't help but share in her enthusiasm.

I set the sword down carefully, leaning it against the table's edge, but Nikko's eager voice breaks the quiet moment.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

"What else can you create, Papa?" she asks, her eyes bright with curiosity, her tail swishing excitedly.

I smile, reaching over to a set of metal ingots I'd laid aside earlier. "I have one idea," I tell her, arranging the various metals on the table. These ingots are the types best suited for crafting a blaster frame—durable, heat-resistant, and refined for handling high energy. But as I start to focus on the design, I realize there's a problem.

Blasters rely on a specialized high-energy gas to function, a gas that, when ignited, produces the plasma bolts. Without it, creating a working blaster may be impossible.

"What's wrong, Papa?" Nikko asks, picking up on my hesitation, her ears tilting in concern.

I let out a small sigh. "I want to create a blaster, but I'm missing an essential component. Blasters need a high-energy gas for propulsion, which is what turns into plasma when you pull the trigger."

Nikko looks around the various crates, her eyes scanning the supplies we've gathered, and then her gaze lands on the crate filled with mana crystals. She points to it, her face lighting up with an idea. "What about those crystals?"

I glance over, considering her suggestion. Mana crystals... Each one glows faintly, a soft, mesmerizing light in hues of deep blue and violet, almost like a captured lightning storm swirling within. They're often used in magical items, capable of channeling and amplifying energy.

"Hmm," I murmur, weighing the idea. "Mana crystals are indeed used in various magical objects. It's worth a try."

I grab several of the crystals, arranging them beside the ingots and adding a plank of wood to form the grip. Closing my eyes, I begin to focus, channeling my energy into the materials. I picture my own blaster as a reference, every angle, every groove, every detail etched into my mind. The smooth, angular body, the grip contoured for precision, and the subtle underbarrel attachment—all of it.

But as I concentrate, I feel a resistance. The materials emit only a faint glow, flickering as though hesitant to form. I push harder, drawing on every ounce of focus. The strain builds, my fingers trembling slightly as I force my will upon the materials, urging them to take shape.

Finally, the glow intensifies. The mana crystals and metals begin to meld, shimmering and twisting as they shape themselves according to my mental blueprint. A soft, pulsing light radiates from the table, growing brighter until, with a final surge of energy, the shape solidifies.

The light fades, and a newly formed blaster rests on the table, looking exactly as I envisioned—almost. It's similar to my own black blaster, yet it has a unique, silvery finish, the metal gleaming with a refined elegance.

I lift the blaster, examining it closely. The main body is sleek, its polished silver frame catching the light. The barrel is angular, with carefully designed contours that give it a modern, streamlined look, and there's a compact underbarrel light, its glow faint but ready to activate. Along the side, the word "Malorian" is etched into the metal in delicate, precise lettering, giving the weapon an almost artisanal feel. The grip is made from a polished wood with a reddish hue, fitting snugly in my hand, with grooves and curves that seem crafted specifically for my grip. It looks identical to mine, the only difference being that mine is black.

Nikko's face is a mix of awe and excitement, her tail swishing rapidly, ears perked high. "Papa... it's beautiful!" she exclaims, barely able to contain her amazement.

I turn toward the line of trees at the edge of the clearing, aiming the blaster carefully, hoping it'll work just as well as a conventional one. I squeeze the trigger, and with a loud crack, a yellow bolt of plasma streaks from the barrel, hitting the tree squarely, sending a spray of sparks and charred bark flying. My eyes widen, feeling a surge of satisfaction. It worked.

Nikko's eyes are just as wide, her tail flicking excitedly. "Wow..." she whispers, transfixed.

I fire again, then a third time, each shot hitting its mark on the same tree. The blaster hums with residual energy, radiating heat, but I notice that it doesn't get as hot as my conventional blaster. There's something efficient about this crystal-powered version, almost as if it channels energy with more control.

I glance down at Nikko, who's practically beaming with pride. "I'm going to be here a while," I tell her, already thinking of the possibilities.

"That's okay, Papa. I want to watch," she says, her excitement evident in her wide eyes and perked ears.

I nod, an idea popping into my mind. If I can recreate my blaster with the materials at hand, how far can I take this? My thoughts drift to something far more ambitious—a crazy thought, really, but one that excites me. Could I rebuild the Crucible? I wonder.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

With that thought, I summon Lyra's notebook from my pouch of holdings and lay it out on the table. Just as I'm about to flip through its pages, I hear footsteps and turn to see Talia, Rebecca, and Apollo entering the clearing, their blasters drawn, with Apollo's wrist blasters extended. Concern is clear on both Talia and Rebecca's faces.

"What's going on?" Talia asks, her eyes scanning the surroundings.

"Are we under attack?" Rebecca adds, her stance tense.

I chuckle beneath my mask, shaking my head. "No, I'm just testing out a new form of magic."

Talia's brow furrows. "You can use magic?" She and Rebecca exchange surprised glances as they holster their weapons. Apollo, satisfied there's no threat, returns to his patrol near the cave entrance.

I gesture to the table where my creations are displayed. "Not exactly," I clarify. "But I can mimic it... using the Force. Something called Transmutation."

"Transmutation?" Rebecca asks, curiosity filling her voice as she steps closer.

I hold up the blaster I just created and gesture to the sword and knife lying on the table. "Let's just say, with the right materials, I can create almost anything I can think of."

Their eyes widen, impressed. Talia picks up the sword, testing its balance, her astonishment growing as she swings it a few times. "Ryu, this sword is incredible! You created this... with Transmutation?" she asks, her tone almost reverent.

I nod, watching her inspect the weapon.

She looks at the blaster in my hand, her curiosity deepening. "And the blaster... it actually works?"

I nod again, a small smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. "You heard the shots. It works, alright."

Talia and Rebecca exchange awestruck glances. Then Talia asks the question I'd been hoping for. "Does that mean... you could rebuild your ship?"

I take a deep breath, looking down at Lyra's journal. "I don't know yet," I admit, "but I'm going to try." I flip open the notebook, thumbing through the meticulously organized pages filled with Lyra's notes and designs. She had always been thorough, leaving no detail unrecorded, and now, as I skim through her sketches, I feel a wave of nostalgia mingling with determination.

"Can we watch?" Rebecca asks, a glint of excitement in her eyes.

I nod, and they gather around as I continue flipping through the pages. Talia, with the sword still in hand, stands beside me, glancing down at the intricate sketches Lyra had made. Her hand gently touches one of the pages, reverent as she scans the detailed drawings of droids and ship parts.

Finally, I come to a particular page—a beautifully detailed sketch of a sleek, elegant ship. The lines of the design are graceful yet powerful, a design I recognize instantly. It's a J-Type Diplomatic Barge, also known as a Naboo Royal Cruiser. Lyra had been particularly fond of this ship, and she'd often spoken about it with a sparkle in her eyes. She appreciated the craftsmanship and the elegance of its design.

The page includes an exterior view of the ship, its gleaming, chrome-plated body shaped like an elongated wing, almost like a blade in the vastness of space. It's sleek, with two elongated wings that taper into pointed tips and engines integrated seamlessly into the smooth surface. Its symmetry and shine make it look like it's gliding, even on paper. The ship is as much a piece of art as it is a marvel of engineering.

On the opposite page, Lyra had meticulously labeled every component. I see detailed schematics of the engine layout, with explanations on its hyperdrive system and its auxiliary power units. There are notes on the defensive capabilities, showing how the shield emitters are concealed within the ship's architecture, and the sensor arrays discreetly embedded along the hull. Her handwriting is small, precise, and in places, affectionate, as if she couldn't help but admire the ship as she drew it.

Talia sets the sword carefully back on the table, then steps up beside me, her eyes drawn to the intricate sketch of the ship. Rebecca and Nikko move in close as well, their gazes fixed on the drawing. I can see their fascination reflected in their eyes, each of them taking in the ship's sleek, graceful lines, its undeniable elegance captured in Lyra's meticulous strokes.

"That ship is beautiful," Talia murmurs, admiration clear in her voice.

Nikko's head tilts slightly as she studies the image. "What kind of ship is that?"

"It's a J-Type Diplomatic Barge," I explain, my tone softening as memories rise. "But it's more widely known as a Naboo Royal Cruiser. These ships were used by diplomats and royalty of Naboo. Their designs are legendary—some of the most elegant and beautiful ships you'll ever see." I pause, a hint of nostalgia coloring my voice. "Lyra was... very fond of this ship. She dreamed of saving up enough money to build one for herself one day."

Rebecca, still looking at the drawing, glances up at me with a questioning expression. "Who's Lyra?"

I feel Talia's gaze shift to Rebecca, and out of the corner of my eye, I notice Nikko's expression change, her ears lowering slightly. Rebecca's eyes dart between them, sensing the sudden shift in the mood. She frowns, concern flickering across her face.

"Did I... did I say something wrong?" she asks, her voice tentative.

Taking a deep breath, I nod slightly. "Lyra was... a close friend of mine."

Realization dawns in Rebecca's eyes, her mouth forming a silent "oh" as she absorbs the weight of my words. Her cheeks redden slightly, and she looks down, stammering, "I'm so sorry. I-I didn't mean to—"

"It's okay," I say, offering her a reassuring look. "You didn't know." I give her a small nod to show there are no hard feelings.

The silence lingers for a moment, but Talia's gentle voice cuts through it, her gaze fixed on the ship sketch. "So... you want to create this specific ship, then?" she asks, her tone soft and understanding.

I nod, my resolve firm. "Yes. It's more than just a ship—it's something Lyra dreamed of. In a way, bringing it to life would be a way to honor her."

Rebecca's face brightens a bit as she looks at the ship once more. "Is there anything we can do to help?" she offers, a glimmer of determination in her voice.

I shake my head, though her offer touches me. "No... Creating this ship will require a lot of concentration," I explain, looking down at the drawing, my mind already racing with the complexities of the task ahead.

I summon every piece of the Crucible that I have, every bolt, panel, wire, and fragment. Piece by piece, I lay them out in the center of the clearing, creating a sprawling collection of parts that stretches across the ground. The engine parts are heavy and worn, the remnants of the hyperdrive glint faintly in the sunlight, and each small component bears the marks of the journey it's taken with me. Bit by bit, I arrange them meticulously, leaving nothing unaccounted for.

Next, I have DP-8 bring over the speeder, and it lands beside the carefully laid out parts. Its polished frame catches the light, and as I look over every inch of it, I know what I have to do. "You're going to dismantle the speeder?" Talia asks, her voice filled with concern.

I nod, sending DP-8 away. "I need every part that I have," I explain. This will take everything.

The day stretches on as I work. I unscrew every bolt, detach every panel, and strip the speeder down to its core, spreading each component beside the Crucible's remains. The sun climbs higher, bathing the clearing in light, casting long shadows across the scattered parts. Talia, Nikko, and Rebecca sit down on the ground, watching me work, their eyes following each piece as I lay it down. By the time I'm finished, I have a pile of components that looks more like an unrecognizable jigsaw puzzle than the remains of two distinct vehicles.

Satisfied, I gather all the ingots of various metals—iron, steel, mithril, and more—and add them to the collection of dismantled parts. They glint under the sun, each with its unique color and texture, promising strength and resilience. Finally, I place the crate of mana crystals beside the parts and add two more, their soft blue glow adding an otherworldly shimmer to the mix of components. I keep around a dozen crystals in reserve, tucked away for future creations.

With a long, steadying breath, I step back, taking in the sight of everything laid out before me. It's an overwhelming collection of materials, but I've prepared as best as I can. I glance at Talia, Nikko, and Rebecca, who are watching intently, their expressions filled with a mixture of curiosity and awe.

"Please work," I murmur to myself, looking down at Lyra's drawing one last time, studying each graceful line and detail. The ship's image imprints in my mind, every curve and contour becoming vivid as I turn back to the laid-out parts. I raise my hand, focusing, channeling all my energy, and begin the Transmutation.

At first, I feel the familiar resistance, the initial pushback from the raw materials, but I press forward, summoning every ounce of concentration. The ship begins to form in my mind, piece by piece. The hull, sleek and gleaming; the graceful wings, arching like a bird of prey in flight; the cockpit, streamlined yet spacious. I focus on each individual detail, from the smallest bolts to the broad, polished wings, drawing on Lyra's sketches to guide me.

The components start to glow, a faint light emanating from each piece as the mana crystals pulse with energy. The ingots heat up, their surfaces shifting, the metals beginning to meld and reshape. I can feel the strain almost immediately; it's like pushing against an immovable wall, each movement demanding an enormous effort. My breathing grows heavier as I channel more energy, my muscles tense, a dull ache beginning to form in the back of my head.

Gradually, the parts start to lift, hovering inches above the ground, the light intensifying as they come together. The frame begins to form, a skeleton of metal and mana-infused energy, like a ghostly outline of the ship taking shape. The panels start to align, sliding into place along the hull, merging seamlessly as though they were always meant to fit together. Sweat beads on my brow, and I grit my teeth, forcing myself to concentrate harder, refusing to let the image slip from my mind.

The mana crystals pulse in rhythm with my heartbeat, each beat sending a fresh wave of energy through the materials, urging them to reshape and fuse. The hull becomes more defined, smooth and reflective, with a polished gleam that catches the sunlight. I focus on the wings next, imagining their graceful sweep, their edges sharp and aerodynamic. The metal shifts and bends, forming the elegant curves I envisioned, every angle precise, every line perfect.

My breathing becomes labored as the process drags on, the Transmutation draining me bit by bit. I can feel the fatigue creeping in, my arms growing heavy, my head pounding with the effort. But I can't stop now—the ship is beginning to take its true form. The engines come together next, intricate layers of metal and crystal intertwining, each component locking into place, humming with latent power.

The cockpit takes shape, the frame forming a sleek canopy, transparent and seamless, giving a clear view of the interior. I focus on the interior itself, imagining the layout—the controls, the seats, the consoles. The panels align, forming smooth surfaces, and the controls take shape, each button and lever exactly where it needs to be. The mana crystals embed themselves along the inner workings, providing an energy source that hums quietly, an arcane heart within the mechanical body.

The hyperdrive core forms in the center, intricate and complex, each wire and component sliding into place with precision. The rest of the internal systems follow, aligning and connecting as the ship's structure becomes solid, no longer just a ghostly outline. I force myself to keep going, my vision blurring slightly as exhaustion begins to set in, but I don't relent.

The ship's gleaming surface smooths out, every joint and seam melting together as if crafted from a single piece of metal. The light around the ship intensifies one final time before fading, leaving only the Naboo Royal Cruiser standing on its landing gear. Its polished chrome body gleams under the sunlight, its wings sweeping out in perfect symmetry, like a blade poised for flight.

My body feels like it's on the verge of collapse. I stumble back, my legs weak, vision swimming as the world spins. Talia is there in an instant, catching me as I stagger, her hands steadying me as she guides me down to sit on the ground.

"Papa!" Nikko cries, rushing over, her small hands reaching out to steady me, her face etched with worry.

I breathe heavily, each breath a struggle, but a deep sense of satisfaction fills me as I look up at the ship before us. I did it.

There, in the clearing where piles of parts, the dismantled speeder, ingots, and mana crystals once lay, stands the Naboo Cruiser, poised gracefully on its landing gear, the landing ramp extended down to the ground. Its chrome surface gleams in the sun, a testament to Lyra's dream brought to life.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

I drop to the ground, catching my breath, every inch of me aching as though I've just fought through a storm. My body screams in protest, and my head pounds like a drum, each beat sharper than the last. But despite the pain, a deep satisfaction fills me. It worked.

Talia rushes over, kneeling beside me with worry etched across her face. She reaches up, her fingers brushing against my mask as she gently lifts it off to get a clearer look at me. "Are you okay?" she asks, her voice soft, but filled with concern.

I nod, managing a weary smile. "Sore as hell and I feel like I've been hit by a speeder, but... yeah. I'm alright."

Reaching into her pouch, Talia pulls out a healing potion and offers it to me. I accept gratefully, downing the shimmering liquid, and feel its warmth spreading through my body. My muscles relax, the ache in my bones subsides, and while I still feel tired, I'm no longer at the edge of collapse.

Rebecca and Nikko are standing nearby, both of them staring up at the ship with wide eyes. Nikko's tail swishes in excitement, and Rebecca looks as though she can't believe what she's seeing.

"You're amazing, Ryu," Rebecca says, her voice filled with awe as she glances from me to the Cruiser.

I chuckle, pride filling me despite the fatigue. "Well, do you want to take a look inside?"

Their eyes light up, and they all nod enthusiastically. With a slight grin, I gesture toward the ramp. Their eyes light up, and they all nod enthusiastically. With a slight grin, I gesture toward the ramp. As we step onto the landing ramp, I feel a thrill of pride swelling inside me. The ship is as close to perfect as I could get, a culmination of my dreams and efforts. The others follow, their eyes bright with anticipation. We ascend the ramp and enter the ship, stepping into the cargo room.

The room is spacious, with crates neatly lined along each side. The air is filled with the faint scent of metal and machinery, but there's a stillness here, a sense of purpose.

I gesture toward the back. "This is the maintenance hatch for the generators," I say, pointing to the hatch situated there. I then turn around and motion to a large hatch on the far left wall. "And this leads to the hyperdrive."

Talia and Nikko both look intrigued, exchanging a quick glance.

Talia tilts her head. "So, the hyperdrive... it means you could... go back?"

I nod slowly, feeling the weight of the possibilities it represents. "Theoretically, yes. The hyperdrive could allow me to return to my galaxy... but hyperspace travel is complicated." I explain the dangers, the necessity of hyperspace lanes, and the risks of going off-course.

Nikko's curiosity is undeterred. "So, it might work, Papa?"

I sigh, glancing at the hatch. "Maybe. But without a proper route, it's like throwing yourself into the unknown. It's dangerous."

Talia frowns, her gaze steady. "So... it's not exactly a ticket home."

"Not yet," I say quietly. "For now, it stays right here."

Before us is a set of stairs leading to the main deck. We climb up, and after the door opens, we step into a large, open room. I gesture around, giving them a brief tour.

"To the left, we have the workshop area." I point to the workspace that's filled with Lyra's old tools and mementos. The walls are lined with her posters and flickering holograms of us, remnants of her journeys. "I used what used to be... Lyra's room. I took what she left behind and made it into something functional."

Talia's gaze softens as she takes it all in, her fingers brushing lightly against one of the posters. "It feels like she's still with us," she says, her voice barely a whisper.

I nod, feeling a faint ache in my chest. "That was the idea."

Rebecca's eyes linger on the holograms, her face touched with wonder, while Nikko's tail swishes slowly, captivated by Lyra's legacy.

"To the right," I say, gesturing to the galley and cooking area, where there's a small kitchenette and storage for food. "This is where we'll eat. It's simple, but it'll let us try out some recipes from my cookbook."

Nikko's face lights up. "Does that mean you'll make more of those amazing meals?"

I chuckle. "Of course, Nikko. We can even try some new ones."

Rebecca nods approvingly as she peeks into the cabinets. "It's amazing how well thought-out this ship is. You could live here comfortably."

Next, I approach a pair of doors facing the workshop. I open the door on the left, revealing the medical bay. It's a modest setup, with a single bed, a basic medical scanner, and empty cabinets. The sterile atmosphere is in stark contrast to the warmth of the other rooms.

"This is the medical bay," I explain. "It's set up for basic treatments and first aid, though I'll need to stock it with more healing items."

Talia nods thoughtfully. "It's practical. Hopefully, we won't need it too often, but... it's good to have."

I move to the door on the right and open it, revealing a compact bathroom with a toilet, sink, and shower. As soon as they see it, I can sense their confusion and curiosity.

Nikko blinks, tilting her head as she studies the toilet. "What... is this, Papa?"

I stifle a chuckle. "It's called a bathroom, Nikko. That's a toilet, a place where you... relieve yourself."

Her eyes go wide, and Talia stares, looking between the sink and the shower with a mixture of fascination and skepticism. "So, you... wash yourself... with that?" She gestures to the shower, unsure.

I nod. "Exactly. You stand under it, and water comes out. It helps to wash away dirt and keep you clean."

Rebecca watches the sink intently, her expression somewhere between intrigue and amazement. "And this?" she asks, gesturing at the faucet.

I turn the handle, and water begins to flow. The sudden movement causes them to step back in surprise.

"See? You use it to wash your hands," I say, demonstrating by splashing a bit of water.

Rebecca hesitates, then gingerly places her hand under the stream, her eyes lighting up as she feels the coolness of the water. "It's... refreshing."

I chuckle, watching their reactions. "It's convenient, trust me. You'll get used to it."

In the center of the back wall, a door leads to my quarters. I open it, revealing a snug room with a large bed, a small cabinet, and a nightstand. The room is bathed in a warm light that makes it feel cozy, almost homelike.

"This will be... our quarters," I say, glancing at Talia.

Talia's cheeks turn a faint shade of pink. "O-Ours?" she stammers, though a soft smile tugs at her lips.

I nod, unable to resist a small smile myself. "Yes... ours."

Clearing her throat, she nods, her gaze sweeping over the room. "It's... lovely."

After showing them the main deck, we head back down the stairs and take the lift up to the crew quarters. When the doors open, we step into a narrow hallway. I turn to the left, where two doors line the right side of the hall.

I open each door in turn, revealing cozy, private quarters. "These will be your rooms," I say, gesturing. "Nikko, you'll have one, and Rebecca, you'll have the other."

Nikko's eyes go wide with excitement, her ears twitching. "I get my own room?! Papa, this is amazing!"

I smile, seeing her joy. "Yes, Nikko. Your own room. Just make sure you keep it clean, alright?"

She nods eagerly, practically bouncing on her toes. Rebecca, meanwhile, is genuinely touched, her expression softening as she glances into her assigned space. "Thank you, Ryu. It... means a lot."

Finally, we step into the cockpit. I take a moment to appreciate the craftsmanship, from the elegant, intuitive design of the controls to the wide, curved canopy that offers an expansive view of the landscape outside. The seats are made from fine, durable material, molded for comfort.

The windows provide a breathtaking panorama of Aranthia below. The mountains rise like ancient guardians, snow-tipped and awe-inspiring, while the forests stretch out in rich, verdant patches, interwoven with rivers glistening under the sunlight.

I slide into the pilot's chair, my hands instinctively finding their way over the controls, fingers grazing across the buttons and switches with a sense of familiarity and respect. Talia, Rebecca, and Nikko gather behind me, watching with a mixture of curiosity and excitement. I can feel their anticipation as if it were my own.

Taking a deep breath, I begin flipping the appropriate switches, engaging the engines, and activating the power systems. The ship hums to life around us, a low, resonant sound that vibrates through the floor and walls, filling the cockpit. I let out a satisfied sigh as the systems come online one by one, the displays lighting up in a synchronized dance of lights and numbers.

"Ready for a ride?" I ask, glancing over my shoulder with a grin.

Talia looks concerned, her brow furrowing. "Shouldn't you rest, Ryu? You've already pushed yourself so hard."

I shake my head. "I'm fine, Talia. Trust me." I gesture toward the seats. "Now sit down, all of you."

Nikko, practically bouncing with excitement, jumps into the co-pilot seat beside me, her tail swishing back and forth. Talia and Rebecca take their seats in the passenger chairs behind us, Talia settling in behind me and Rebecca behind Nikko.

"Strap in," I say, pointing to the safety belts as I fasten my own. They follow suit, securing themselves as I grip the controls.

The ship hums louder as I increase the power, and with a gentle pull on the controls, it lifts gracefully from the ground. The landing gear retracts with a series of soft mechanical clicks, the sound echoing through the cabin as we begin to ascend. The cockpit's windows fill with a rapidly changing view, trees and mountains falling away as we rise higher and higher.

I keep a steady hand on the controls, guiding the ship with a gentle precision as we climb through the atmosphere. The blue sky outside gradually darkens, shifting from azure to indigo, and the clouds below begin to look like clusters of soft, rolling cotton. As the air thins, stars start to appear, faint at first but gradually growing brighter against the darkening sky.

Talia's voice breaks through the quiet awe. "Ryu... where are we going?"

I smile, keeping my gaze forward. "You'll see."

The ship continues its ascent, breaking through the last wisps of atmosphere and into the boundless openness of space. Aranthia falls away beneath us, a massive sphere bathed in the distant glow of its sun. From here, the world looks small, fragile even, surrounded by the endless expanse of stars. I bring the ship to a halt just outside of Aranthia's orbit, allowing it to drift gently as I take my hands off the controls.

A collective gasp fills the cockpit as Talia, Nikko, and Rebecca take in the view. The vastness of space stretches out before us, an endless ocean of stars scattered like glitter across velvet. Aranthia's moon hangs nearby, stark and silver, casting a faint glow across the cockpit, and the planet's sun begins to peek around the horizon, casting long beams of light that dance over the ship.

Rebecca's eyes widen, her mouth slightly open as she stares out at the view. "This... this is incredible. I've never seen anything like this. I mean, I thought I knew what beauty was, but this..." Her voice trails off, lost in the sheer awe of it.

I can't help but smile at her reaction. "Quite amazing when you see it with your own eyes, isn't it?"

Nikko nods, her eyes shining as she stares out the window, tail frozen mid-swish as if she's holding her breath. Talia's gaze is fixed on the endless stars, her expression soft and mesmerized.

I gently maneuver the ship, shifting it to face Aranthia. From up here, the view of the continent below is breathtaking. The vast forests and rugged mountains stretch out across the land, a patchwork of greens and whites with rivers cutting through in glistening threads. Rolling plains lead toward the coast, where the land meets the sea in a gentle embrace, the waters a deep, rich blue that sparkles under the faint light from the distant sun.

The landbridge connecting the two regions below us is clearly visible, an ancient, natural pathway between realms. I can make out small clusters of islands surrounding the southern coastline, like jewels scattered across the sea, each one framed by golden beaches and shallow turquoise waters. The northern mountains, draped in snow, stand as towering sentinels overlooking the entire continent, their peaks reaching toward the stars.

Nikko leans forward, practically pressing her nose to the glass, her voice barely a whisper. "It's like... a painting. So much bigger than anything I've ever seen..."

Talia nods beside her, her eyes never leaving the planet below. "It's humbling... knowing that we're such a small part of something so vast."

Rebecca, still speechless, lets out a shaky breath, her gaze transfixed by the view. "It's... it's so beautiful."

For a long moment, we sit in silence, just taking it all in. This view, this moment—it feels surreal, like we're witnessing something timeless and infinite.

After a while, I break the silence, my voice soft. "I thought you'd appreciate this. Seeing our world from above... it's something few people get to experience."

Talia reaches out, resting a hand on my shoulder. "Thank you, Ryu. For bringing us here... for sharing this."

I nod, feeling a warmth in my chest. "It's my pleasure." I glance at each of them, seeing the wonder and gratitude in their expressions, and feel a quiet sense of fulfillment. This is why I built the ship. Not just for the journey, but for moments like this—moments that remind us of the beauty in the universe, and of our place within it.

As we hover in the silence of space, Talia glances over at me, her eyes reflecting the starlight outside the cockpit. She hesitates for a moment, then speaks up, her voice soft but curious. "What will you call this ship?" she asks, her gaze shifting back to the vastness of Aranthia below. "The Lyra, perhaps? Since this was her dream?"

I pause, the name stirring a bittersweet feeling within me, but I shake my head. "No," I say quietly. "This ship was made from the Crucible herself... in a way, it is still the Crucible, just... improved upon."

Talia nods, a small smile forming on her lips. "The Crucible reborn," she murmurs, her hand resting lightly on my shoulder in understanding. Together, we look out over Aranthia, soaking in the calm, the beauty, the stillness before the inevitable chaos. There's a peace here, a moment that feels suspended in time, where the only sound is our quiet breathing and the hum of the ship.

Just then, Apollo's voice breaks through the silence, crackling from the communicator in my glove. "Ryu, what happened? Where are you?"

I press the communicator, a slight chuckle escaping me. "Sorry about that, Apollo," I say into the glove, unable to mask my amusement. "We'll head back now."

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

I grip the controls firmly, guiding the Crucible smoothly away from the vast canvas of stars. I shift her into a slow descent, breaking through the atmosphere as the dark void of space gives way to a soft gradient of blue. The clouds become visible, wisps of white and gray against the sprawling land below. The familiar landscape of Aranthia unfolds as we glide through the air, descending gracefully back toward the clearing where we first took off.

The engines hum softly as I bring the ship lower, trees and hills rising to greet us. With a practiced touch, I guide her into the clearing, the thrusters shifting to a gentle hiss as the ship hovers just above the ground before landing smoothly. The landing gear extends with a soft mechanical click, and the Crucible settles down.

As we step out of the ship, Apollo stands at the edge of the clearing, his gaze fixed on the Crucible with what I can only describe as an intense focus. I can see his photoreceptors shift slightly, as if analyzing every inch of the ship.

"You built a new ship?" he asks, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity, though it's tempered by the neutral tone he often uses.

I walk over, placing a hand on his shoulder. "This is the Crucible rebuilt, my friend," I say, my voice filled with a quiet pride as I turn to look at the ship with him.

Apollo's photoreceptors narrow slightly as he takes in the ship's sleek design. "This is the Crucible?" he asks, doubt slipping into his tone. "This... this is a completely different ship."

I smile, giving his shoulder a gentle pat. "She may look different," I say, "but I used her old parts. All in all, she's still the Crucible."

Apollo continues to stare at the Crucible, his photoreceptors fixated on the ship as if he's still trying to process its transformation. After a moment, I turn to him, a hint of impatience creeping into my voice. "Please tell me you've found the right dungeon."

Apollo shifts his gaze to me, his expression unchanging, though I detect a slight pause as he calculates his response. "I have only managed to observe four dungeons across the western and southern continents," he says. "It takes time to move the probes to the next continent."

I take a deep breath, suppressing the frustration welling up inside. "How much time?"

"Twelve hours," Apollo replies, his tone as neutral as ever.

I let out a heavy sigh, the weight of those words pressing down on me. Twelve hours. In that time, anything could happen. Every second that ticks by feels like an eternity, a window for the Shadowfell to grow stronger, to draw more power, to plan something devastating. The thought gnaws at me, filling me with dread.

Apollo notices my reaction and, after a brief pause, adds, "Perhaps you could craft more probes."

I shake my head. "I used all the spare parts we had on rebuilding the Crucible. All that's left are droid components, and they lack the materials I'd need to turn them into functional probes." I rub my temples, feeling the fatigue starting to catch up with me. "We're at our limit."

Apollo's head tilts slightly. "Then all we can do is wait."

I nod, feeling a surge of helplessness wash over me as Apollo steps back, leaving me alone with Talia, Rebecca, and Nikko. I turn to them, managing a faint smile. "I suggest you go back to your training," I say, noticing Rebecca's immediate reaction as she slumps her shoulders in dismay.

"And what will you be doing?" Talia asks, crossing her arms, her gaze narrowing as if she already suspects my answer.

I hesitate, glancing back at the Crucible. "I'll be working on upgrading our weapons, maybe doing a final systems check on the Crucible. If I can manage it, I'll install the forge and—"

Before I can finish, Talia places a hand on my arm, cutting me off. Her gaze is firm, yet there's a gentleness in her expression. "Ryu, you need to rest. I'm not going to stand by while you work yourself into exhaustion."

I open my mouth to argue, but her words hit something deep within me. I feel the fatigue settling into my bones, the ache from everything I've done catching up to me. But there's a part of me that can't let go, that feels the constant pressure to keep moving forward, to prepare, to be ready.

"Talia, I understand your concern," I say, my voice quieter, "but I can't just sit idly by while there's still so much left to do. The Shadowfell, we need to be prepared for it."

She steps closer, her hand moving from my arm to rest on my shoulder, a look of genuine concern softening her gaze. "Just a couple of hours, Ryu. Please. You're no good to us if you're too tired to fight." Her voice is calm, soothing, but it carries an unyielding resolve that's hard to ignore.

Nikko watches me with wide, worried eyes, her ears twitching slightly as she absorbs our conversation. Even Rebecca looks at me with a hint of concern.

I sigh, my shoulders sagging as I realize they're right. I can feel the exhaustion pulling at me, and though every instinct tells me to keep working, I know they won't let me.

"You're right," I finally admit, a hint of resignation in my voice. "I'm sorry... I just don't want to let you down."

Talia's expression softens further, a faint smile breaking through her concern. "You don't have to work yourself so hard," she murmurs, her hand giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "We're all in this together, remember? Now go get some rest. We'll wake you if anything comes up."

Reluctantly, I nod, the weight of exhaustion settling over me as I turn toward the cave. My legs feel heavier with each step, as if the fatigue I'd been holding at bay is finally sinking in now that I've acknowledged it.

I make my way to the makeshift bed, lying down with a weary sigh. The coolness of the bed beneath me is a welcome relief, and as I close my eyes, I can feel the tension in my body slowly beginning to ease. My mind is still buzzing with a thousand things that need to be done, plans, strategies, and preparations, but Talia's words linger in my mind, reminding me that I need to be at my best when the time comes.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

The world around me shifts, and suddenly I'm standing in a vast, endless desert. The sun hangs high above, beating down relentlessly, its heat pressing against me like an invisible weight. Sweat gathers on my brow, and the air feels dry, every breath scraping my throat. The desert stretches out in every direction, an unbroken expanse of sand, stretching into a horizon that seems to blend with the sky.

Confusion tugs at me as I turn, scanning the landscape. There's no sign of life, no point of reference, only the endless desert under the oppressive sun. I feel disoriented, my heart pounding in my chest, a sense of urgency I can't place gnawing at me. "Where... where am I?" I mutter, my voice barely more than a whisper that gets swallowed by the dry air.

I turn around, and for a moment, I'm certain there was nothing there—just more sand. But now, standing imposingly against the desert's monotony, a vast structure looms before me. It's ancient, carved from stone that's weathered by time and the elements, yet it holds a strange, intimidating aura, as if untouched by the ages.

My heart races as I take a step forward, compelled toward the structure, unable to look away. Massive gates of the temple, towering and ominous, stand open before me, their size making me feel small, insignificant. Darkness spills out from within, a complete and utter void that swallows the sunlight, giving me no glimpse of what lies inside. A chill creeps up my spine despite the desert heat, a primal instinct urging me to turn back, to stay away.

Then, from the depths of that darkness, two yellow dots flicker to life. Eyes. They pierce through the shadows, locking onto me with a cold, unblinking gaze. My breath catches, my heart hammering in my chest as the eyes hold me captive, frozen in place.

I try to move, to tear my gaze away, but my body doesn't respond. Those eyes feel like they're boring into my very soul, searching, judging, waiting. A sense of dread fills me, consuming me from the inside, a feeling so deep and visceral it leaves me trembling.

Just as the darkness seems to reach out, ready to engulf me, I jolt awake, a gasp escaping my lips as I sit up abruptly. My heart races, and I can feel the sweat cooling on my skin, the remnants of the dream lingering like a shadow.

Beside me, Talia stirs, her eyes wide with concern. "Ryu... are you okay?" she whispers, her hand reaching out to steady me. Nikko, curled up on my other side, blinks sleepily, her ears twitching as she takes in my sudden movement, worry filling her gaze.

I push myself up from the bed, my heart still racing from the dream. My movements are swift, almost frantic, as I reach for my gauntlet beneath the glove on my left hand, activating it with a practiced motion. Talia and Nikko watch me, concern etched into their expressions as the hologram of Aranthia flickers to life, casting a cool, bluish glow that illuminates the cave's walls. I adjust the controls, zooming in on the eastern continent, my hands moving with a sense of urgency I can't quite explain.

"Ryu, what's going on?" Talia asks, stepping closer. Her voice is soft but laced with worry, her hand hovering near my shoulder as if to steady me.

Nearby, Rebecca stirs, blinking sleep from her eyes. She sits up, taking in the scene with a sleepy confusion that quickly shifts to concern as she notices the tense atmosphere. Apollo, standing silently by the cave entrance, turns his attention toward me, approaching with his usual deliberate, calculated steps.

The hologram shifts across the arid surface of the eastern continent, passing over the endless sands and harsh landscape until a vast desert comes into view. My gaze remains locked on the hologram, my heart pounding as I search for confirmation of what I saw in my dream.

"Ryu... answer me!" Talia's voice rises slightly, worry sharpening her tone as she watches my tense movements.

I glance over at her, feeling the weight of her concern, but I don't slow down. "I just... I need to check on something," I say, my voice low, distracted. My focus returns to the hologram, the image shifting across the desert until it displays a massive, imposing temple surrounded by a small, abandoned city. The temple stands tall and ominous, crafted from dark stone that looks weathered by time, its architecture stark and foreboding. The walls rise high, adorned with faded symbols, and the central spire reaches toward the sky, casting a shadow over the city below.

Around the temple, the remnants of a once-thriving city are huddled, as though seeking protection from the temple's ominous presence. The buildings are crumbling, the streets empty, with sand filling every crevice and corner. It's an eerie, hollow sight, as if the city itself had been abandoned in a hurry, its inhabitants fleeing something dark and powerful.

The sight sends a chill down my spine. It's exactly what I saw in the dream, down to the smallest detail.

"What's going on?" Talia's voice pulls me from my thoughts. She steps closer, placing a hand on my shoulder, her eyes searching mine.

I exhale, finally meeting her gaze. "I had a dream," I say, choosing my words carefully. "I was in a vast desert, alone, and this very temple loomed over me. It felt... real. There was something dark there, something I could feel even in the dream." I turn back to the hologram, pointing at the temple. "It was this temple, exactly as it appears here."

Rebecca steps forward, her gaze fixed on the hologram. Recognition dawns in her eyes, and she nods slowly. "That's the dungeon in the Shodo Desert," she says, her voice slightly hoarse from sleep.

I turn to her, feeling a sense of urgency. "Are you certain?"

She nods again, her expression somber. "Yes. That's the Shodo Desert, the largest desert in Aranthia. But..." She trails off, a look of uncertainty crossing her face. "You don't think...?"

I nod, my jaw set. "I do. That's where the Shadowfell is."

Apollo steps closer, his photoreceptors narrowing as he processes this new information. "Are you certain of this?" he asks. "I have studied this dungeon extensively and found no trace of the Shadowfell's presence."

I shake my head, glancing back at the hologram. "In my dream, I felt it—a dark presence, powerful and overwhelming. I can't ignore this. I need you all to trust me on this."

There's a pause, a brief silence as they take in my words. Then, Talia gives me a faint nod, her hand still resting on my shoulder as a reassuring presence. "We do," she says softly.

Nikko, standing beside her, chimes in with quiet conviction. "Me too, Papa. I trust you."

Rebecca steps closer, nodding with a hint of admiration in her eyes. "I trust you, Ryu."

Apollo tilts his head slightly, his voice carrying a note of finality. "You have my support."

At that moment, IG-22 steps into the cave, his metallic footsteps echoing through the quiet. He scans the group with his photoreceptors, then turns to me. "I trust you," he says in his usual monotone, before adding, "My programming requires me to do so." The dry remark elicits a quiet laugh from everyone, except for Apollo.

A faint smile crosses my face as I take in their support. "Thank you... all of you." I feel a renewed sense of purpose, the weight of their trust giving me strength. "Then let's do this."

I turn to face the group, looking each of them in the eye. "Let's go save Aranthia."

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

Tension fills the air inside the cave as we pack for the journey ahead. I can feel it in the way everyone moves—Rebecca and Talia, silently packing food and medicinal herbs from the cooking area, while IG-22 and Apollo load the other blasters, grenades, and other weapons into the Crucible. Every movement is deliberate, the atmosphere heavy with the weight of what lies ahead.

I stand before Nikko, her small frame trembling as she sniffles, trying to hold back her tears. Her cat-like ears twitch slightly, and her tail flicks anxiously behind her. "I said no, Nikko," I say, my voice firm but full of concern. "You cannot come with us."

Her blue eyes brim with tears as she clings to me, wrapping her arms around my waist. "But, Papa, I can fight too! I don't want you to leave me again," she pleads, her voice quivering as she presses herself closer.

I kneel down to her level, placing my hands gently on her shoulders. "I don't want to leave you behind either, sweetheart," I say softly. "But the Shadowfell is far too dangerous. I fear it might try to influence you, and I can't let that happen. Not to you or Rebecca."

Nikko sniffles again, her eyes wide and pleading, but I know this is the right choice. "There's a high probability that the Shadowfell will send its forces here while we're gone," Apollo suddenly says from across the room, placing a crate into the bag of holding with his precise mechanical movements.

I freeze and glance at him. "Say that again," I demand, standing up slowly, and Nikko looks over at Apollo with wide eyes.

"It would be a logical move," Apollo continues, turning his head toward me with an eerie precision. "The Shadowfell may attempt to strike here while we are gone, seeking to eliminate any who may pose a threat. Miss Nikko and Miss Rebecca would be prime targets. It is what I would do if I were the Shadowfell."

The cold logic of Apollo's statement hits me like a punch in the gut. I can feel my heart rate quicken as I process his words. He's right. The Shadowfell has attacked us here before, and it knows the location of the cave. Leaving Nikko and Rebecca behind would make them vulnerable.

I take a deep breath, feeling a knot tighten in my chest as I glance down at Nikko. The thought of her being in danger makes my skin crawl. But as much as it scares me to bring her along, the idea of her being attacked without me here to protect her is worse.

"Fine," I say reluctantly, and Nikko's face lights up as she wipes her tears away, her tail flicking with renewed excitement. "But," I add, kneeling before her again, "you do exactly as I say. When I say run, you run. When I tell you to hide, you hide. Understood?"

Nikko nods eagerly. "I'll be very careful, Papa. You have trained me well after all" she says, her voice filled with determination.

I can't help but smirk a little. She's right—I've trained her well. "That I did," I mutter under my breath. "Now go help Talia and Rebecca pack."

Nikko rushes off, her energy instantly revitalized, and I watch her join Talia and Rebecca, her small hands busy as she helps them pack supplies. A deep sigh escapes me as I make my way to the cave entrance, needing a moment to collect myself.

I pull up my mask and retrieve my pipe, carefully packing in a pinch of medicinal herbs and lighting it. The familiar scent fills the air as I take a deep puff, trying to push aside the doubts that gnaw at the edges of my mind. I stare out at the forest, the trees swaying gently in the breeze, and try to center myself.

"Mind if I join you?" I hear Talia's voice behind me.

I turn slightly and see her standing a few steps away, her eyes soft but filled with concern. I nod, and she steps up beside me. The silence between us is comfortable, but the tension still hangs heavy in the air.

"Nervous?" she asks quietly.

I take another puff from the pipe and exhale deeply. "Of course," I admit, my eyes scanning the forest. "I have a bad feeling about this."

"You think it's a trap?" Talia's voice is calm, but I can sense her unease.

"I know it's a trap," I reply, feeling the weight of the truth in my words. "The Shadowfell is waiting for us... and I'm scared."

She steps closer to me, and I wrap my arm around her, pulling her gently to my side. Her warmth grounds me, offering some comfort amidst the uncertainty.

"I'm scared for all of you," I continue, my voice quieter now. "But I feel a lot better with you by my side."

She smiles up at me, her eyes filled with a mixture of love and worry. We share a kiss—brief but tender—and for a moment, I forget about the dangers ahead. But I can sense her fear too, the same fear that gnaws at me. We all feel it, except for Apollo and IG-22, who seem unbothered by the concept of fear.

The moment is interrupted by Rebecca stepping out of the cave, looking a little flustered. We immediately pull away. "Everything is ready," she says, but then her gaze falls on us, and she blushes, quickly turning away. "Sorry... I didn't mean to interrupt," she mumbles, stepping back toward the cave.

I tap out the ashes from my pipe and quickly put it away. "Rebecca, wait," I call after her, jogging to catch up.

She stops and turns back to me, her expression a mixture of embarrassment and uncertainty. "You don't have to come with us," I say, my tone gentle but firm. "Bjorn and Alduin have reconciled. It would be safer for you to go to either Elaria or Eldoria."

She hesitates for a moment, her gaze flicking between me and the ground. "You're right," she admits, her voice soft. "I could go to either kingdom... but I think I'd regret it if I didn't help you." She looks up, her eyes meeting mine, and I can see the determination there. "All my life, I ran from my problems. But now... I want to help. I owe you that much."

Her words catch me off guard, but I nod, respect for her growing.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

We gather by the Crucible, my heart racing as I prepare us for what lies ahead. I call over the Eye-Bots, watching as they zip through the air, settling into their designated slots within the ship's rear compartment.

"Everyone, get inside and buckle up," I instruct, heading to the cockpit. Talia follows, settling into the co-pilot's seat beside me, with Nikko climbing onto her lap. Rebecca sits in the passenger seat behind us and IG-22 and Apollo stand in the back.

I start the sequence to power up the ship, flipping switches and pressing buttons. The hum of the Crucible's engines fills the cabin, but the tightness in my chest persists, a reminder of the challenges awaiting us. Suddenly, I feel two hands reach out—Talia's and Nikko's. They each squeeze my hand gently, offering silent reassurance. I look over, meeting their eyes as they give me encouraging smiles. I return their smiles, lowering my mask as the Crucible lifts off, leaving the cave behind.

We're heading into the heart of danger. The Shadowfell will throw everything it has at us. Yet, as I glance back at my companions—my family—I find a sense of calm.

Once the Crucible is in the air, I plug in the coordinates for the Shodo Desert Dungeon. The control panel lights up as I set our destination, then I turn to DP-8, hovering beside the console, and nod.

"Take over, DP-8," I instruct.

The droid beeps in acknowledgment, its familiar tone echoing through the cockpit. It extends its hacking appendage and inserts it into the ship's control interface, locking into place with a click. A faint hum emanates from the connection, and the screens light up, indicating DP-8 has taken command.

With DP-8 in control, I release the controls and spin my chair around to face everyone. Talia, seated in the co-pilot's seat with Nikko perched on her lap, meets my gaze with a look of calm determination. In the back, Rebecca sits between Apollo and IG-22, her fingers tapping anxiously against her thigh, though she tries to keep her face steady.

"We're about an hour out," I inform them. "I want to use this time to study the dungeon."

As I speak, I activate the ship's hologram projector. A light-blue image flickers to life in the center of the cabin, displaying a three-dimensional rendering of the dungeon in intricate detail. The ancient stone walls, labyrinthine passages, and desolate corridors appear, casting an eerie light across everyone's faces as they lean in to observe.

The hologram rotates slowly, and I zoom in on the surrounding town. The buildings appear worn down, lifeless, like they were abandoned in haste. Shadows cling to the empty streets, and there's an unsettling quietness to the entire scene.

I cycle through different visual filters on the hologram, starting with a lens that allows me to see inside the structures. Empty rooms, overturned furniture, dust coating every surface—there's no sign of recent activity. Next, I toggle to the thermal lens, hoping to catch any lingering heat signatures. The display glows briefly, but the streets and buildings remain as cold as the stones themselves.

Talia leans forward, her eyes fixed on the hologram, studying the projection alongside me. Rebecca, equally focused, can't hide a slight tremor in her fingers as she watches the deserted city. Eventually, she speaks, her voice soft, trying to sound confident. "Maybe the Shadowfell hasn't arrived yet?"

"Maybe," I mutter, though doubt clouds my voice. I zoom in on the dungeon itself, revealing the structure's underground passages, twisting and winding deeper into the earth like the coils of a serpent. The layout is a labyrinth, a place designed to trap and disorient. I switch to the biosensor, scanning for any traces of life. Still, nothing. "This dungeon should have monsters on every level," I say, frowning at the blank display. "Yet I don't see any."

Talia's brows furrow as she watches the hologram. "So... the Shadowfell could've cleared it out?"

I nod, though unease knots in my chest. "Or it's waiting for us."

Talia is quiet for a moment, then speaks, her tone thoughtful. "His followers," she says.

I look over at her. "What about them?" I ask, curiosity piqued.

"They can appear out of thin air, right? Like they're being transported somehow. What if... What if there actually is no one at the dungeon until we arrive?" Talia suggests, her voice quiet but firm.

Her insight strikes me like a bolt of clarity. She's right. That's why I'm not picking anything up. "The Shadowfell is already there," I say, nodding in agreement. "It's just waiting for us to arrive. That's when they'll show themselves." I glance over at Talia. "Good thinking."

Talia blushes slightly, her cheeks tinting pink as she looks away. "It's nothing," she says modestly. But I can tell she's proud of her deduction.

Nikko gives me a confident nod. Even though her usual energy is subdued, I can see the fierce determination in her eyes. I smile at her, grateful for her unwavering belief in me. When I turn to Rebecca, I see the nerves still there, but something has shifted. She's not as scared as she once was. There's a newfound resolve in her that wasn't there when we first met.

I take a deep breath, feeling a mix of pride and concern for the people around me. They're ready to face whatever lies ahead, and that fills me with a sense of purpose. I takeback control of the Crucible from DP-8, my hand steady on the controls as I increase our speed. The scenery blurs beneath us, vast forests giving way to the shimmering expanse of the ocean. The sky is a blend of oranges and blues as the sun rises higher, casting golden light over the water. The air grows warmer as we speed across the endless waves, the sound of the speeder's engines humming in the cabin.

After a short while, the ocean gives way to the first glimpses of the Shodo Desert, a vast expanse of sand dunes stretching out in every direction. Far off in the distance, the jagged peaks of enormous mountains rise against the horizon, like ancient sentinels guarding the land.

"Almost there," I murmur to myself.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

The flight continues smoothly for a while, but an odd noise begins to echo through the Crucible's cabin. It's faint at first, just a whisper on the edge of hearing. I squint, trying to place the sound, but it grows louder by the second. I can see the others straining to listen as well.

"What is that sound?" Rebecca asks, her eyes scanning the horizon through the windows. Nikko and Talia are both looking out as well, confusion and tension on their faces. Even IG-22 and Apollo turn their heads, their sensors locking onto the source of the noise.

I check the radar—nothing shows up. There's nothing for kilometers around us. But the noise grows louder, more distinct, and suddenly it clicks in my mind.

TIE-Fighters.

I concentrate, reaching out with the Force, trying to sense any danger approaching. There, I can feel something malevolent, a twisted presence rushing at us from the direction of the sun. I glance at the radar again—still nothing—but I know it's there. I jerk the Crucible hard to the left just as a barrage of green blaster bolts streaks past us, narrowly missing the hull.

"Hold on!" I shout as the Crucible banks. My heart races as I straighten us out, and just then, I catch sight of them—three TIE Fighters screaming past the cockpit, their distinct roar unmistakable.

Their appearance is unnerving. Unlike normal TIE Fighters, their hulls seem to flicker with an ominous black energy. Their sharp, angular wings are jagged, like broken glass, and they trail a dark, inky smoke. Their cockpits glow faintly with a red hue, twisted and distorted, making them look like something born from a nightmare rather than spacefaring craft. The very air around them seems warped, as though they are corrupting reality itself.

"What are those?" Rebecca asks, her voice trembling as she watches them come about for another pass.

"TIE Fighters," I reply, gripping the controls tighter. "Fighters of the Empire. But how are they here?"

Another hail of green blaster fire cuts through the sky, and I yank the Crucible into a dive, trying to avoid the incoming shots. The craft shudders under the strain of the sudden movement, and I hear DP-8 beeping frantically from the console.

"I know, DP-8," I say through gritted teeth, pulling the Crucible back into a level flight. More bolts streak by us, a few slamming into the rear of the Crucible, causing the entire ship to lurch. Panic spreads across the cockpit. I see Talia's and Nikko's terrified faces as they cling to the seats, while Rebecca's knuckles turn white as she grips the handlebar tightly.

"What did DP-8 say?" Rebecca asks, her voice strained as she tries to hold on.

"That the shields have taken a heavy hit!" I shout as I throw the craft into a sharp dive, the ground rushing up to meet us. The sudden shift in gravity presses me into my seat, and I can hear the others groaning from the force of the maneuver. Talia and Nikko cling desperately to the seats, while Rebecca lets out a terrified shriek.

An alarm starts blaring over the cabin, causing Talia, Nikko and Rebecca to cover their ears, panic in their faces.

"Ryu, what's happening?" Talia shouts, her voice tinged with panic.

"Ion torpedoes incoming!" I shout as I spot three white dots rapidly closing in on us from behind. I slam my hand on the alarm button, shutting off the blaring noise filling the cabin. I twist the controls to the left, sending the Crucible into a wild spin.

The vast desert becomes a blur as the Crucible twirls in the air, the world spinning uncontrollably outside the windows. Rebecca shrieks again, while Talia holds tightly to the handlebar, her eyes wide with terror. Nikko buries her face into Talia's shoulder, clutching her tightly as her small body trembles.

A loud explosion erupts behind us, and the entire ship shudders violently. The pressure forces me to keep the ship spinning, trying to avoid the residual ion blast. With a deep breath, I pull the craft out of the spin, steadying it as the remaining ion charges dissipate harmlessly behind us.

"That was too close," I mutter under my breath. My muscles ache from the strain of the last maneuver, but there's no time to rest. The blaster fire resumes, streaking past us from all angles. Enough of this. I yank the controls sharply, spinning the Crucible around to face the incoming TIE Fighters.

"Hold on!" I shout as I line up the shots, pressing down on the firing mechanism. The Crucible's blaster cannons roar to life, sending large green bolts of energy streaking towards the three TIE Fighters. Each shot connects, and for a moment, I expect the usual explosions. But instead, something far stranger happens.

The TIE Fighters melt away into black goo, dissolving mid-air before they hit the ground. The inky substance splatters across the desert sand, hissing and evaporating as if it never existed. The sky clears, and for a moment, the world feels still.

Everyone exhales in unison. I let out a long breath, and I hear the others doing the same. My heart is still pounding in my chest, adrenaline surging through me.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

"Is everyone alright?" I ask, glancing around the cockpit. Talia gives a shaky nod, her face still pale with fear. Nikko clutches her tightly, but she manages a small nod as well. Rebecca looks rattled, still gripping the handlebar with both hands, her face flushed with fear.

"I. Hate. Flying," Rebecca growls through clenched teeth, shooting me a glare.

"Noted," I say with a small, tired grin as I take the controls and reorient the ship. The horizon beckons as I press forward, but the knot in my chest tightens. How could TIE Fighters be here? I don't like it, not one bit.

"They turned into goo, just like the Shadowfell's followers," Talia points out, her voice still shaky.

"I couldn't detect any electronic signatures," Apollo adds, his voice breaking the silence.

"That's because they weren't real TIE Fighters," I say, gripping the controls harder. I glance at Talia as her brows furrow in confusion.

"But how would the Shadowfell know about them?" Talia asks.

"It's been in my mind," I mutter. "If it can create followers, it's not far off to think it can create things from my memories."

Apollo nods in agreement. "It is within reason. The Shadowfell can draw on your thoughts to construct enemies it knows you recognize. However, these creations are not real, but manifestations of its power."

I don't like that. Not at all. What else could it pull from my mind? How much of me does the Shadowfell know now? What else could it conjure?

As we continue, the foul presence returns, far stronger now, twisting my gut with dread. I look to the horizon and feel my stomach drop as I see dozens of tiny black dots appear in the horizon, slowly growing larger.

"Hold on!" I shout as the black dots begin to take form—dozens of TIE Fighters. They're closing in fast from all sides, their screeching engines filling the air. Talia and Rebecca grip the handlebars again, the tension in the cabin thickening. Nikko clings tightly to Talia, her small body trembling as she closes her eyes.

The sky is a battlefield of green streaks, blaster fire crisscrossing from every angle as the TIE Fighters close in. My heart pounds as I grip the controls tighter, feeling the weight of this fight press down on me. There are at least thirty of them—thirty-three, I count, darting through the sky like angry hornets, their distinct howls filling the air. The sun glints off their black, jagged wings, and that inky black smoke trails behind them, making it look like they're tearing reality apart as they fly.

I yank the controls hard to the right, feeling the Crucible shudder under the strain as it banks sharply. The pull of gravity presses me into my seat, and I hear the others groaning behind me from the sudden shift. Green bolts of energy zip past the viewport, narrowly missing us. The adrenaline surges through my veins as I dive down, trying to lose them in the swirling chaos of their attack patterns.

"Hold on!" I shout as I flip the Crucible into a corkscrew, spiraling through the incoming fire. My muscles strain against the G-forces as we spin wildly. I catch a glimpse of Nikko clinging tightly to Talia, her eyes squeezed shut, while Rebecca clutches her seat in terror. DP-8's frantic beeping fills the cabin, adding to the chaos.

The TIE Fighters are relentless, their blaster bolts hissing through the air as they home in on us. One of the shots connects with the rear of the Crucible, sending a violent jolt through the craft. Warning lights flare up across the console as I struggle to maintain control. The cabin fills with the acrid smell of burning metal as another shot strikes the wing. We can't take much more of this.

I throw the Crucible into a sudden climb, the engines whining in protest as we rocket upward. My teeth grit against the strain, and I force the ship higher and higher, trying to outmaneuver the pursuing fighters. The sky grows dark as we leave the clouds behind, and for a moment, I think we've lost them. But then, that all-too-familiar sound returns—a screech like a banshee's wail, the sound of more TIE Fighters homing in on our position.

"They're still on us!" Rebecca cries out, her voice full of fear.

"I know!" I shout back as I throw the Crucible into a nosedive, the horizon tilting wildly as we plunge back down toward the desert below. The sand rushes up to meet us, and I pull up just in time, the speeder leveling out only meters above the ground. The TIE Fighters follow suit, their blaster fire ripping through the air around us.

I press down on the firing mechanism, sending large green bolts of energy streaking back toward the fighters. One of them explodes in a puff of black goo, disintegrating in midair and splattering across the dunes. Another one goes down just as quickly, dissolving into the same inky substance. But there are too many of them. For every Tie Fighter I shoot down, two more seem to take its place.

"DP-8, reroute power to the shields!" I command, sweat dripping down my forehead as I try to keep us alive.

DP-8 responds with a series of frantic beeps, the shields flickering as it diverts all available power. I juke the Crucible left and right, narrowly avoiding another volley of blaster fire. But we're running out of time.

Blaster fire zips past us from every angle, some of the bolts slamming into the weakening shields. The sound of metal straining under the onslaught fills the cockpit, and I grit my teeth, pushing the ship as hard as I can to keep us in one piece. DP-8's frantic beeping rings through the cockpit, warning me of the impending shield failure.

"I know, DP-8!" I snap as I slam the controls forward, diving us low toward the dunes below. The ground rushes up at us at terrifying speed, the G-forces pressing us into our seats. I feel every muscle tense as I pull us out of the dive, skimming the tops of the dunes as more blaster fire rains down from above.

The sound of those TIEs—the screaming engines—grows louder as they close the gap, their blasters tearing through the sky. I throw the Crucible into another tight corkscrew, narrowly dodging another barrage that would have fried us on the spot. Sweat beads on my forehead, and I can hear the others straining against their safety restraints as we twist and turn through the air.

"Brace yourselves!" I shout as I pull the controls into a hard loop, bringing the Crucible around to face the incoming fighters head-on. I fire off another volley, the blaster cannons roaring to life as more of the black goo fighters disintegrate into the sky. But then, my heart sinks as the radar starts blaring again.

Ion torpedoes.

"Ion torpedoes incoming!" I shout. "Everyone hold on!"

I yank the controls again, forcing the ship into a wild spiral as I try to throw off the torpedoes' tracking. My muscles ache as I fight to keep the ship steady through the violent maneuvers. I push us into a steep climb, then yank us into a sharp dive, hoping to throw the torpedoes off our tail.

The first explosion rocks the speeder from behind, the shockwave sending us lurching forward. The cabin fills with warning signals as the shields buckle under the force. I glance back at the radar—two torpedoes still closing in. My heart races, and I push the speeder to its limits, the engines straining as I try to outmaneuver them.

Suddenly, another explosion. The second torpedo hits its mark. The speeder jerks violently, and I struggle to keep control as one of the engines sputters and the power flickers. The controls go stiff in my hands, and the lights in the cabin dim.

"Shields are down!" Apollo reports, his voice eerily calm amid the chaos.

"Great..." I mutter through gritted teeth as I glance at the incoming fighters. The last torpedo is closing in, and I know I can't dodge it this time. I force myself to focus, reaching out with the Force to slow the impact, to protect us from what's coming.

The final torpedo slams into the rear of the ship with a deafening blast. The ship bucks violently, alarms blaring in every direction. The power cuts out completely, and we're falling.

I close my eyes for a brief moment, reaching out through the Force to cushion our descent. It's like trying to hold back a tidal wave—my muscles strain, and I can feel my head pounding as I pour every ounce of concentration into slowing our fall.

The ground rushes up at us, and I grit my teeth, pushing harder. We hit the sand with a bone-rattling crash, the Crucible skidding across the dunes in a cloud of dust and debris. I can feel the strain on my body as I fight to keep us from rolling, the ship dragging to a halt after what feels like an eternity. For a moment, everything is still.

I slowly open my eyes, the world spinning around me as I try to steady my breath. I glance around the Crucible. Talia and Nikko are clutching each other tightly, their eyes wide with shock but unharmed. Relief floods through me.

"Is everyone okay?" I ask, my voice shaky as I try to catch my breath.

Talia nods slowly, still holding Nikko close. "We're fine..." she says, though her voice trembles with the adrenaline still coursing through her veins.

Rebecca groans from the backseat, her knuckles white from gripping the handlebar. She looks around the cabin, taking in the state of the ship. "By the Gods, we are still alive!" she says, a smile forming on her face as she closes her eyes, lets out a sigh of relief, and falls back on her seat.

I smile weakly, despite the tension still gripping my chest. I reach for the controls, trying to power up the systems, but the Crucible remains lifeless. I glance out the viewport and see the TIE Fighters—what's left of them—turning away, disappearing into the horizon. Then, one by one, they vanish into puffs of black smoke. Just like before. Just like the Shadowfell's followers. They could have finished us off... but they didn't.

I slam my fist against the console in frustration. "It's toying with us..."

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

After releasing my own harness, I turn to help Nikko, who is curled up on Talia's lap in the co-pilot's seat. Her ears twitch slightly, her wide eyes alert but showing no sign of injury. "You okay, Nikko?" I ask, reaching out to help her down from Talia's lap.

She nods, steadying herself as she takes my hand. "Just a little rattled, Papa," she says, her tail flicking nervously.

I give her shoulder a gentle squeeze and turn my attention to Talia, who looks up at me with a reassuring smile, though her grip on the armrest is tight. "You're alright?" I ask, scanning her for any visible injuries.

"Fine," she replies, breathing out as she lets go of the armrest. "Nothing I can't handle."

Rebecca, seated further back, looks a bit dazed. I make my way to her, offering a steady hand as she adjusts to the sudden heat. "I... I'm alright," she says with a faint nod, brushing herself off as she stands.

With everyone confirmed to be okay, I move toward the cargo area and press the release switch. The door opens with a soft hiss, and the landing ramp extends from the Crucible's belly, the harsh desert heat hitting us as it fully descends. The landscape before us is nothing but sand and sky, the intense sun casting long shadows across the barren ground.

One by one, we descend the ramp, stepping out into the searing desert heat. The bright sunlight bears down on us, and the sand shifts beneath our feet, every step a reminder of the unforgiving terrain we've found ourselves in.

Apollo and IG-22 have already begun their task, moving methodically as they unload crates and gear from the cargo hold. Apollo handles the heavier crates, while IG-22 stacks smaller packs of supplies—food, water, ammunition, and basic tools—organizing them neatly on the sand. It's not much, but it's everything we managed to grab on short notice, and it'll have to do.

I turn back to inspect the Crucible, the sight of the damage making my stomach twist. One of her sleek silver engines has a deep, charred hole punched through it, the metal twisted and scorched. Another engine has exposed wiring and loose plating, the vulnerable parts glinting in the sun. The once-smooth, elegant hull is pitted with blast marks and scratches, reminders of our close call with the TIE-fighters.

Talia steps beside me, following my gaze over the ship. "Can she be fixed?" she asks, her voice a mixture of hope and worry.

I nod, though I feel the weight of reality pressing down. "She's fixable... but it would take too long." I run a hand over the pitted hull, feeling the rough texture of the sand-scratched metal beneath my fingers. "We'd need hours—maybe even days—to get her back up to speed. And we don't have that kind of time."

Talia sighs, her fingers brushing lightly over the surface as if willing the ship to heal faster. "I know how much effort you put into rebuilding her..." she trails off, her voice laced with sympathy.

I offer her a small, reassuring smile, patting the side of the Crucible. "I'll fix her up again. Don't you worry. But right now, we have other priorities."

DP-8 emerges from cargo room, its frantic beeping filling the air as it zips over to me and then the others.

"We're fine, DP-8," I assure the droid. "A few bruises, but nothing serious."

"Looks like we're walking the rest of the way," I mutter, trying to keep the frustration from my voice.

"How much further?" Talia asks, glancing at the horizon where the dunes stretch out endlessly before us.

I activate the holographic map from my gauntlet, zooming in on our current location. "Four kilometers," I say. "If we keep moving and take small breaks, we should arrive in just a couple of hours."

A collective groan of annoyance comes from the group, and I can't help but share the sentiment. Walking through the desert with the Shadowfell waiting for us wasn't part of the plan. Without the Crucible, everything will be that much harder. Taking on the Shadowfell and its forces is going to be a lot more dangerous now without our air support.

I head to the back of the speeder and open the various crates where my blasters are stored. My hand instinctively reaches for the A-23 heavy rotary blaster, its weight familiar and comforting as I lift it and hand it to Apollo. The droid accepts it with a nod, slinging the weapon across his back.

"What about my current weapons? Apollo asks, its mechanical voice steady as always.

"I suggest you use blasters and vibro blades," I say, activating the Eye-Bots. They whir to life and fly around us for a moment, taking in their surroundings. Apollo nods as it unhooks its shield and spear and places them into his bag of holding. It took some time for me, but I decided to put away the Crucible into my own bag of holdings. Thank the Force for these amazing bag of holdings.

Once everything is in order, I take a deep breath. I glance over at my companions—Talia, Nikko, Rebecca, DP-8, my Eye-Bots, Apollo, and IG-22—all looking back at me with determination in their eyes. We're all bruised, exhausted, but still standing. Despite the frustration, I see determination in their eyes. We've come too far to stop now.

With one final deep breath, I give them a nod. "Let's move."

We head out into the desert, the scorching sun beating down on us, the sand shifting beneath our feet with each step.