The Eighth Brother sat down cross-legged on the floor. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I sense a lot of anger in you", he said, grinning. "Anger that's been bundled up for so many years; anger that, if not controlled, will run wild and free".
Ezra shivered. He could feel the darkness infesting every molocule in his body. It felt like tiny hands were scratching and scraping all over his body. Come on Ezra, be strong! Be strong for the ghost crew.....for Kanan.
"Yeah well, news flash", Ezra retorted, mustering as much courage as he could "everyone's got anger in them. Shouldn't be a surprise I've got some, especially after what you did to my family".
The Eighth Brother chuckled. "Really? I must ask which one: your precious rebels or your parents?"
Ezra glared at him. "Both, actually".
The Eighth Brother stared at him for a moment, a hint of amusement flashed across his face. "A smart mouth; just like your parents. You have quite a resemblance to them; especially with all that anger flowing out of you".
He leaned forward and gripped Ezra's  face, pulling him towards his own face. "You have their determination in your eyes". He paused, his eyes beginning to dim with sadness. "You even have their spirit".
Ezra pulled away from his grip. "Well I am their son", he spat.
The Eighth Brother shook his feelings away and stood up. "You have much potential, Ezra Bridger. It's too bad you were wasting it on the rebel alliance".
"It wasn't wasted", Ezra responded, a passionate anger starting to boil in his blood. "It planted hope in the people's hearts. Everything we do.....did fed the small fire on Lothal".
"Fires can be put out", the Eighth Brother retorted, staring down at Ezra. "Just like your friends".
"But the fire they spread isn't gone; it's all over the galaxy". Ezra stood up and stared at the Eight Brother with confidence. "As long as there's a cause worth fighting for, there will always be people fighting for it".
For a moment, there was silence between the two. The Eighth Brother didn't know what to say. All he could see was a small Mira and Ephraim standing right in front of him. He was indeed just like them; their passion, their desire to help others......it was all there in him, pumping through his veins and feeding his hope for survival.
He is still young, he told himself. His heart can be turned to the dark side.
No; it will be turned to the dark side.
"You are right, Young Bridger", he replied. "But who's to say that the empire will loose?"
Not waiting for an answer, the Eighth Brother grabbed Ezra by the throat and shoved him into the wall. "You follow a fantasy, Ezra", he growled. "You're believing in a movement that's no better than the empire".
Ezra tried to break the grip, gasping for air. "The empire isn't the only one ruining lives. Your precious little rebellion takes the lives of anyone does and doesn't stand with them. People don't loose loved ones just because of one side. It takes two groups to start a war".
Ezra stared at the Eighth Brother, their eyes locked. He could feel the Eighth Brother shaking from the anger inside him. Ezra was shaking too; his body trembled as the Eighth Brother's grip tightened around his throat.
The Eighth Brother continued. "You will forget your life as a rebel. You are mine now, Ezra Bridger. And believe me when I say this: you will become a sith and continue the Bridger legacy". He leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "It's your destiny".