These Violent Delights

Chapter 61: Across Space & Time

You were floating. Literally.

Your head was snapped back, your limbs stretched out as evil forces pulled you from every direction. You sensed Skywalker was near you somewhere, trying to assist you, but it was too late. An evilness was now inside you, devouring you down to the bone. You no longer had control over your body. The crystal burned into your hand, filling your nostrils with the rancid smell of scorched skin. Dreadful, twisted voices seized you by the throat and burrowed into your mind.

"Empress of Eternal Darkness...here to take what's hers..."

While you were physically hovering above Exegol's sprawling landscape, behind your eyelids, you were climbing the steps of a monstrous, jagged throne. Ominous hooded creatures swayed side to side in the stands hugging the platform, gurgling a baleful melody that struck terror in your heart. Blessed with an innate knowledge courtesy of the pendant around your neck, you immediately identified this place as the amphitheater below the Citadel, and the dark shadows were the souls of Sith Lords destined to roam here for eternity. And not only were they ravenous for your power and strength, they wanted your soul to be bound to Exegol forever to serve them as their Empress of Eternal Darkness.

Panic consumed you. You didn't want this. You had only grabbed the stone to save Kylo, knowing you'd most likely die in the process. But to be tied to evil for infinity? No, no, no. Guttural screams expelled from your lungs as you tried to drop it, but you physically couldn't let go. It had attached itself to you, burying itself inside your palm and setting every cell on fire. Convulsing, screaming, and crying—it felt like a lifetime of agony had passed before the pain began to pull you under, dulling your sense of reality. When a blinding white silence enveloped you, you didn't struggle. You opened yourself up to it, eager to allow this wicked thing to drain everything from you if it meant you would be free of this pain.

But then there was a shift. Something so monumental, it snapped you back to attention. You opened your eyes to see your crystal pendant lift off your chest, burning a neon violet color that emitted so much heat you were positive it would burn you to death. But no. It directed all of its power into the other crystal, forcing it to detach from your palm. Still hovering above the ground, you flinched as you watched both of Palpatine's creations collide right in front of you, mesmerized by the resulting balance that engulfed you. As you witnessed a relic meant to steal powers clashing with one to grant them, all you felt was peaceful equilibrium, and for the sweetest of moments, you thought the struggle was over. Then came an unfamiliar voice that washed over you.

"Luke, my son, you know what you need to do..."

You heard Luke screaming, and then there was an immense pull, as though gravity itself had wrapped its hand around your torso. The Sith chanting escalated into a furious screech until you felt the chain snap around your neck, both entities being pried away from you. Across the void, you made eye contact with Skywalker for a split second before he swung his lightsaber at the artifacts, and you covered your eyes as a green flash lit up the dismal world around you.

Your knees collided with the ground, and when you lifted your head to search for the Jedi, all that remained were his brown robes heaped in a puff of dust. A chill wrapped around you, and a profound loss reverberated through you—a disruption in the Force. At the same time, the equilibrium remained as you realized Skywalker gave his life for yours because he wanted to. But now you weren't sure you'd survive after all.

You choked out a cry. As if you were moving in slow motion, you collapsed onto your side and groaned out a plea for help. "Kylo."

No movement, no response. You knew he should be behind you, but you were unable to pivot and look. Your ears rang, your entire body ached. Your palm felt hot and raw, and sitting up proved to be an immeasurable task. Tears welled in your eyes as you realized Kylo was probably already dead. And now you were going to die, too.

Soft voices called out to you as your eyelids grew heavy. Unlike the cruel chants that surrounded the kyber, they were welcoming and warm and safe, caressing your wounds and easing your pain as they sang your name. You couldn't tell what else they were saying, but the harder you tried to listen, the further away you found yourself from your tired, broken body. You released a shaky sigh, leaning into the blissful feeling of escape, and hoped they would carry you away from this cold, blood-soaked ground.

"After all this, you think death is a worthy opponent to submit to?"

Your eyes shot open. Your hand flew to your chest in surprise, making your lips twist around a silent groan. You lifted your cheek off the ground as much as you could manage, blinking rapidly to find the source of the voice. When your eyes finally focused on a man with a blue tint around him, you thought you had already passed into the Other World.

The man peered down at you and smirked. "No. You're not dead. But you will be soon if you don't get up and stop feeling sorry for yourself."

"I'm...what?" you croaked out, throat dry and hoarse from screaming.

"You are feeling sorry for yourself," he repeated, placing his hands behind his back. "Get up. Weakness is not a good look on you."

You scowled at this mystery man. He looked down at you, relaxed, like your life wasn't almost siphoned away by a fucking Force-sucking-crystal. It angered you; it motivated you. Using every bit of your strength, you were able to peel yourself off the ground—albeit panting the entire time—and leaned all of your weight onto your good palm. You slowly tilted your head back to get a good look at him. He was a young man with shoulder-length hair, and dressed in what appeared to be the clothes of a Jedi. He had a kind face, and although you had never seen him before, there was something eerily familiar about the way those amused eyes watched you.

"Who are you?"

"A friend," he said lightly as the vision of him flickered.

You tilted your head in confusion. Not only was he flickering, he was glowing. A bright blue color outlined his entire body, and yet, he regarded you like an old friend engaged in a casual chat. "I must be dead," you said, weakly lifting your burned hand to point to his shimmering figure. "You're glowing."

"Ah, thank you," he mused, his lip twitching up into a smirk. "The Other World has done wonders for my complexion."

You stilled, your brows pulling together. It took you a moment to register that he was joking, which confused you even more. "Who are you? Why are you here?"

The young man sighed, unclasped his hands behind his back, and gestured behind you. "I'm Ben's grandfather. The Force has called on me to guide you."

Your eyes widened, and your mouth popped open. "You're...Darth Vader?"

"Not anymore. Call me Anakin, or Ani." The vision of him quivered greatly, and his laid-back demeanor grew into a strong urgency. "We don't have much time. Your connection with the Force is fading. In minutes, it will be gone entirely."

Your voice was small, broken. "Gone...forever?"

"Yes," he said, adding your name. "Both crystals were destroyed in Luke's sacrifice. I'm sorry."

You closed your eyes. Hot tears pressed against your eyelids until they overflowed, pouring down your face as your body trembled. You would do that all over again if it meant saving Kylo, but the loss still cut you deep.

You heard Anakin step closer to you. "Listen to me. You need to focus and act now. Save yourself and save him. You need to get up."

His sudden intensity made your head spin. "Act...how? I can barely move," you cried, your voice cracking. "I failed. I can't save him. I failed him."

"No, you haven't. You are strong, stronger than you know—Force-sensitive or not. You mustn't give up. My grandson depends on you. The galaxy depends on you."

You tried to lift yourself to stand but couldn't. "I can't! I can't even move! How can I help him and the galaxy?"

"Find your strength, and you can do anything," he said with your name, the vision of him slowly fading. "Be mindful of your thoughts. They are betraying you. Do not let the doubt win."

"Wait, wait!" you panicked, reaching for him. You weren't ready to be alone again. "Please don't go! Please help him!"

"You're his only hope," he whispered before his blue figure blended into Exegol's murky atmosphere. His last words hung in the air, swirling around you with a gust of wind. "You're a fighter. Now, fight."

When you blinked, he was gone, and the absence of your newfound Force abilities hit you like a slap across the face. You pulled in a deep, desperate breath. The part of you that had been buzzing with life and thrumming with power was gone. The quietness in your bones was so prominent now, you wondered how you ever managed the tenor of the Force in the first place. The memory of it tingled in the back of your mind, teasing you, but when you tried to tap into it, you were met with excruciating stillness.

You threw your head back and screamed. An inkling of your most potent strength had always been there, even after Luke took it away from you. You saw that now. It had lived inside you the entire time, just below the surface, waiting to be restored and reignited. But before you were even able to truly claim what one kyber crystal had granted you, another crystal had taken it away from you. All because of Palpatine and his fucking evilness. Everything was his fault.

As you had watched Kylo and Luke duel from inside the TIE silencer, you were granted profound clarity about your life. The pendant around your neck had felt alive as you received an upload from the Force. Your struggles as a child, your parents leaving you, Skywalker stealing your powers, and now, the loss of the Force...all of it could be traced back to the sinister late Emperor. And that wasn't including what he had done to Anakin and, in turn, his influence over Kylo.

It filled you with rage, pulling you to your feet to act. It took a lot out of you, your legs trembling below your weight, but you bit the inside of your cheek and pushed through. With shaky movements, you turned around and prepared yourself to see Kylo's lifeless form.

Your stomach churned at how defeated he looked. He was lying on his side with his legs crossed and his arms sprawled limply in front of him. The top of his forehead touched the ground with his chin tilted upward, his black hair clinging to the sticky sweatiness of his skin. Squinting your eyes under the minimal visibility the constant lightning strikes granted you, you focused on his chest to look for movement. Weak and shallow, it rose and fell.

"You're alive," you breathed, sluggishly placing one foot in front of the other. With staggered steps, you rushed over but resisted the urge to crouch beside him. You knew if you sank to the ground again, there was no way of knowing if you'd be able to rise, and failing was not an option. Kylo needed you. You're his only hope.

Your head snapped up, wincing as you desperately searched for any other aircraft besides Kylo's TIE silencer. You knew flying any ship would be difficult, but if you could find a transport, at least you'd be able to pull him up the ramp. But all that remained intact was his starfighter. A ship with a hatch that you had to climb down into from above.

You mumbled profanities to yourself as you focused back on Kylo. Despite not knowing how to get him inside, you knew you had to act, and you had to act now. You bent over and pushed down on his shoulder, rolling him off his side.

With a heavy thud and an unconscious groan, his body pivoted so that he laid on his back. With your ankles by his head, you bent down to hook your hands around his underarms. Staying in a crouched position, you began pulling him back with rapid, short tugs. You didn't get far before you felt like you were going to pass out. Your burnt palm felt like it was still on fire, sweat coated your skin, and your racing heart screamed in your chest. The tops of your thighs and the core of your abdomen burned each time you heaved him toward the ship, screaming in protest.

"Why...are you...so...large?" you gasped between swift jerks.

Every movement was torture. Every inhale you pulled through your lungs felt like a punishment. But you didn't stop. You stayed focused, Anakin's words replaying in your mind over and over again. You're a fighter. Now, fight. And that's what you did. You fought. Fought to pull Kylo's dead weight, fought to keep going despite the blaring pain. To stay upright, to stay conscious. You were so close now. It was right in front of you. You just had to figure out how to get him up and inside that fucking thing. You would figure it out, you'd—

A hum of an engine and a burst of wind enveloped your senses. You looked up and saw a First Order shuttle preparing to land right in front of you. Through your weakened, bleary mind, time progressed in a fragmented manner. One moment it was hovering, and the next, it had landed and released the ramp. Hope blossomed in your chest. It must be our allies. It has to be. You held your breath as the descending ramp came to a halt. Exhaust fumes surrounded the exit of the ship, shining bright under the lights from the hull. When figures emerged, the anchor in the pit of your stomach pulled you to your knees.

"No," you whispered, your throat constricting and eyes watering. "Please, no."

Smug as always, General Hux strode right toward you, his hand hovering over the blaster on his belt. A clink of armor and a parade of footsteps followed behind him. It wasn't just Hux that had decided to pay you a visit. Behind him, an entire division of Stormtroopers flooded out of the ship. "My, my," he tsked, stopping in front of you. "It seems as though we have lost the battle, but have won the war."

You looked up at him, tears bleeding out of you. "Why?"

He squatted before you. He tossed a satisfied look to Kylo's unmoving body behind you, then fixed his arrogant gaze on your face. Gently cupping your chin with his gloved fingers, his lips formed a heinous smile. "Because I can, little one."

You started to sob, and his eyes seemed to light up at your pain. "You know, between the physical and emotional abuse my father inflicted on me, there was one valuable lesson he taught me. Shall I pass on the wisdom to you?" He didn't wait for a response. "He said you truly meet a person for the first time right before they die. Which makes me wonder, M421, are you truly as unbreakable, as untamable, as you like to portray?"

Your nostrils flared, spit flying from your mouth as you answered. "Yes."

"Really? Because it looks to me like you're powerless. I have you on your knees, with your life in my hands. And as much as I want to see you suffer, I could use a Force-sensitive pet. Even a bratty one," he cooed, bringing a hand up to stroke your face. "So, what do you say? Will you submit to me? Will you serve your new Supreme Leader in any way he sees fit?"

You blinked, then stared at him for a long time, trying to judge his authenticity. Once you realized he was serious, you laughed in his face. You tried to respond and tell him he's a fucking lunatic, but for the life of you, you couldn't control yourself. Your laughter was loud, obnoxious, and insulting, and judging by the vein in Hux's forehead, the last nail in your coffin.

He violently stood up. Over your fit of laughter, he spat venom at you. "Pathetic. You will always be—"

The sound of an approaching ship drowned out the General's last insult. You weren't able to confirm who it was from your position, but it didn't matter. You knew it was more of Hux's men. It was too late. You'd die here, maniacally laughing at Hux, and Kylo would be next.

A Stormtrooper approached. "General—"

"Not another word," Hux snapped, interrupting his soldier. His eyes were locked on your face, gleaming with excitement as he pulled out his blaster. "I have waited a very long time for this moment. The man who ruins it for me will share her same fate." The Stormtrooper made a noise of panic, but held his tongue before jogging away. Hux's lips curled into a cruel, sickening smile. "Any last words, Resistance scum?"

Fragmented chuckles tumbled from your lips as you bit back another wave of delirium. You tilted your head back to look up at him, and with your bloodshot eyes locked on his, you choked out your last words. "See...you...in...Hell."

Hux cocked his blaster, the vein on his forehead bulging as he took a step closer. Nostrils flared with a grin on his lips, he set the barrel of his blaster pistol on your forehead. "Goodbye, Kitten."

You were quietly crying, but you welcomed death. You had lost. Kylo had lost. Your Force powers were stolen from you—again—and you were exhausted, physically and emotionally, and you felt the life slipping away from you. Hux would be doing you a favor by ending it quickly. Closing your eyes, you said your silent goodbyes as you waited to die.

Kylo, I will wait for you. Across space and time, I will always wait for you.

A whoosh of air interrupted your message to your lover. Followed by a brutal thump and a grunt. And a very familiar voice. "I told you not to call her that, General Hugs."

Your eyes flew open to see an unconscious Hux fall to the ground. Behind him stood a tall figure dressed in all black, twirling a scythe in his hands. Not just any scythe. Lucy. Your lips formed his name before you even processed what had happened. "Vicrul."

He ripped his helmet off and squatted in front of you, saying your name. "Are you alright?"

You tried to reach for him, but you started to fall backward, your head spinning and vision blurry. You were fading, and you were fading fast. You barely noticed that his fingers dug into your shoulders to hold you upright.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm here," he soothed, wrapping an arm around you as you collapsed against him. "Hold on, Miss Ren. Don't go to sleep, okay? Promise me."

With your cheek on his chest, you nodded weakly against him. You looked up at him and tried to stay awake, noticing how the familiar sight of him felt like a warm embrace on a cold day. As you focused on everything but dying, you found yourself admiring the definition of his cheekbones, and how his light brown hair hung in his blue eyes. You caught a whiff of his scent, and you were instantly transported back to that night on Tepasi. Your bodies colliding, the kiss, your knife sinking into him, his words that haunted you for months...

"I fucking hate that you matter so much to me."

Vicrul cleared his throat. "Miss Ren, did you hear what I said?"

"Hmmm?"

"I said I'm sorry we didn't come earlier. We followed Master Ren's orders and waited for a signal, but it never came."

You told him it was okay. Or, at least, you thought you did. Who really knew? You were distracted by how comfortable you were now. So cozy. You were stuck on an evil Sith planet without a drop of sunlight, but who cared when Vicrul's arms were desperately warm? It felt incredible after you had endured so much pain. Why couldn't you sleep, just for a little bit? You deserved to rest. You yawned, holding onto him tighter as your eyelids drooped down.

"No, no, wake up," he said, gently shaking you. You didn't listen, blissfully ignoring him as your breathing slowed. So, so slow. So relaxing. Mmmm. But then his gentle touches became forceful, wrenching you from that snug daze. You reluctantly opened your eyes with a ruffled groan as Vicrul murmured at you. "There you are. Stay with me, love."

You blinked repeatedly, opening your eyes as wide as possible to stave off the numb fatigue that tried to pull you under. You felt light and untethered to gravity as Vicrul held you with one arm and dug in his coat pocket with his free hand. Nausea rattled your stomach, the intensifying sounds of battle piercing the veil of false security. With a grunt, Vicrul repositioned to bring a syringe to his lips and bite down. He blew the cap out of his mouth and directed his attention down to you.

"This is going to hurt."

You eyed the syringe full of a blue, glistening liquid. "Bacta?"

"Yep. Figured I owed you a vial." With a powerful plunge, the needle pierced your bare thigh and you lurched off his chest, curling forward and howling in pain as the thick and slimy liquid spilled into you. When he was done, Vicrul yanked it out and muttered under his breath. "That'll do it."

You drew in an unsteady inhale, and by the time you exhaled, the bacta had already worked. No more fatigue, no more nausea. Your mind was sharp and clear, and the adrenaline pumping through your veins caused your heart to batter against your sternum. Above all, it took away the muted pain that your foggy state had offered.

"Fucking fuck, that kriffing hurt."

"Welcome back," he said, distracted as he threw a glance over his shoulder.

You followed his gaze. The rest of the Knights of Ren were on the scene, absolutely obliterating Hux's men. Even though it was dozens of Stormtroopers against five knights, they made it seem like a game. It made you wonder why the Supreme Leader didn't want them here earlier. Which reminded you.

"Kylo," you panicked, grabbing Vicrul's arm. "We need to save Kylo."

He nodded and stood up. You pivoted as he stepped around you and knelt before his Master. Quickly digging in his pocket, he pulled out another syringe and administered it into his thigh. He jolted and groaned, but still, Kylo remained unconscious.

"Come on, Master Ren," Vicrul said, running his hand through his hair. "Wake up."

Your heart dropped. "Vicrul, why isn't it working?"

He didn't respond, only glanced up and scanned the battlefield before looking back down at Kylo. Blaster shots whined all around, but you kept your eyes locked on them. He dug in his pocket and pulled out another syringe, and repeated the process. This time, Kylo's eyes shot open.

You rushed to his side. "Kylo, Kylo, you're okay. I'm here. We are here."

But he didn't look at you. Gasping, he jolted upright, gripped Vicrul's shoulders, and choked out four menacing words. "Do...not...touch...her." Eyes rolling into his skull, he collapsed back into the dirt.

"Kylo?" you squealed, pushing Vicrul out of the way to hover over him. You gently stroked his face, watching as his eyes rapidly moved behind his eyelids. "Please, wake up." You heard Vicrul sigh and stand up. You desperately looked up at him. "Of all things, he said that? Fucking why?"

"Master Ren is fiercely protective of you, even in the face of death, it seems. And after Tepasi..." Vicrul trailed off, rubbing his chin. "He no longer trusts me with you. But that is a story for another time. We need to get you off Exegol."

You had a million things to say, but you decided on a curt nod. You stood up and pointed toward the Night Buzzard. "We need to get him on that. Help me move him."

Vicrul shook his head. "Our ship isn't fast enough, Miss Ren. He would be gone before—"

"Don't you finish that sentence," you flared, jabbing a finger in his face. "He's...he's a fighter. He is going to be okay. He has to be okay."

Vicrul looked down at him, then back at you, pain flashing in his eyes. "He's dying, Miss Ren. I feel it between our bond."

You refused to listen to him. "His TIE silencer is fast! The fastest starship in the galaxy!" you shouted, gesturing toward the ship just a few yards away. "It will get us to a medbay in time! Come on, you need to help me! Help me carry him!"

Kylo's knight looked at you for a long time, the agony unmistakable in his eyes. Icy strikes of lightning backlit the grief that etched itself in every line of his face, and you didn't need to be Force-sensitive anymore to pick up on his thoughts—he didn't believe his Master would make it. But you wouldn't accept that.

"Please, Vic." Your voice broke. "Please just help me."

His throat rippled as he swallowed, like he was holding back emotion, and nodded once. "Get back."

You stepped away from them, glancing behind you to check on the status of the fight. As expected, the knights neutralized them and gathered the remaining survivors in a group. Circling them like predators admiring their prizes, they picked one out and kicked him to the ground. Kuruk bent down with a blade in hand, and you quickly looked away as he started cutting out his victim's tongue.

You focused on Vicrul, who had since secured Kylo over his shoulder, breathing heavily and slightly buckling under his weight. You followed behind as he made it to the TIE silencer, stepping over Hux's unmoving body as you did. Curling your lip back, and spat on him. "I hope the knights tear you apart."

A loud grunt and bang grabbed your attention. You turned your head to see Vicrul carefully dropping Kylo inside the hatch, directing him inside with only one arm. The way he was maneuvering him, effortlessly placing him inside, made it clear that he was using the Force for assistance. You ran over and looked up at him.

"Well?"

"It's tight in there, but he's secure." He jumped down and gestured toward the steps. "After your lessons, do you think you can fly this?"

Nervous eyes met his. "Yes."

He nodded. "Get up and get in, Miss Ren. Time is of—"

The sound of multiple First Order transports drowned him out. You grabbed his arm. "Is that Pryde's transport?"

Vicrul's jaw tensed. "Not yet."