What if...? [A Star Wars Rebels Fan Fiction]

Part 11

He closed his eyes. He lost Hera right before his eyes. This was so low. Out of 6 spectors, 4 were dead, one didn't make the crew, and the last one....well, he knew what was coming. The death of Kanan Jerrus.

Kanan had died as a boy, but the future was all off. It was time for Kanan to die.

----On the ghost----

The man in the green shirt sat up from his meditation. The ghost was still intact...mostly. But no one was on bored. The man ran to the front to see that auto pilot was on. Then again, like when he was a kid, the fuel tank drained and he fell towards the grassy world below.

The darkness of death was welcomed in his mind, and he gave into the darkness. His body lay lifeless surrounded by ruins of the ghost.

By living up to its name, the ghost vanished, for Hera never bought it, and Kanan Jerrus layed with the lothcats on his death bed.

"No," the man said with final breath, "if only things were how they used to be. Everything is just so wrong!"

----In the other place with the mysterious man----

There. Done. He had seen all who had ever loved him die because of his mistake. The hair around his face stuck to it due to the sweat and heat of watching himself die. Kanan's ponytail had been removed and he sat there wondering, "Can things ever be the same again?" He asked to the nothingness of the abyss he lay prisoner in.

"No. This is your fault. You will stay here until you ROT!!"

The voice screamed back to Kanan, as he sat on the inky abyss, cursed to watch his friends die forever.

Then, another voice spoke, "I will get you out, I promise Kanan."

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