Echos of the Force

Chapter 2: The Call of the Light

Rey awoke with a start, her heart pounding in her chest. The remnants of a dream clung to her like cobwebs, impossible to shake. It was the same dream that had plagued her for weeks now—a vision of Ben, or perhaps Kylo, standing alone in a place of shadows. His face was obscured, his emotions unreadable, but she could feel the overwhelming sorrow that radiated from him. Each time she reached out to him in the dream, he would fade away, leaving her alone with the aching void in her heart.

She sat up in bed, the sheets twisted around her legs, damp with sweat. The room was dark, the only light coming from the soft glow of the distant city beyond her window. She was on Coruscant, temporarily staying in an apartment near the old Jedi Temple ruins while she worked on gathering the scattered remnants of Jedi knowledge. But sleep had eluded her for days, her mind too full of memories and what-ifs to find peace.

Rey pulled her knees to her chest, resting her forehead against them as she tried to calm her racing heart. Every night, the dreams grew more intense, more real, as if Ben was truly reaching out to her from wherever he was. But that was impossible. Ben was gone. She had felt him die in her arms, had watched the light leave his eyes as he gave his life to save hers. She had buried the hope of seeing him again deep within her, knowing it was a wound that would never fully heal.

But the dreams—no, the visions—felt so real. She could feel his presence in them, so close yet so far away. It was as if the bond they had shared, forged through their connection to the Force, was still alive, still pulsing between them like a heartbeat. Rey didn't know what to make of it, whether it was the Force trying to tell her something, or just her own grief manifesting in her sleep.

In the quiet of the night, when the rest of the galaxy seemed at peace, Rey allowed herself to feel the full weight of her sorrow. She had lost so much—her family, her innocence, her sense of belonging—and Ben had been the last person who truly understood the depth of that loss. He had been her mirror, reflecting back the darkest parts of herself that she had struggled to accept. And yet, despite everything, she had loved him.

She had loved him, and she had lost him.

Tears welled up in Rey's eyes, and she didn't bother to wipe them away. In these solitary moments, she allowed herself to mourn him, to feel the sharp, stabbing pain of his absence. She had been strong for so long, carrying the weight of the galaxy's expectations on her shoulders, but here, in the privacy of her room, she was just a woman grieving the man she had lost.

The Force felt different now, quieter, as if it too was mourning the loss of Ben Solo. The balance they had fought so hard to restore felt fragile, delicate, as if it could be tipped by the slightest breeze. Rey knew she had to be strong, that she had to keep moving forward, but every step felt like dragging herself through quicksand. The galaxy looked to her for hope, for guidance, but how could she offer that when she felt so lost?

She closed her eyes, trying to center herself in the Force, to find the peace that always seemed just out of reach. But instead of the calm she sought, she felt a faint, almost imperceptible pull, like a thread tugging at the edge of her consciousness. It was the same pull she had felt in her dreams, the same presence that had haunted her nights. It was him.

Ben.

Rey's breath hitched, her eyes snapping open as the connection flickered and then strengthened, just for a moment. It was as if he was calling out to her, reaching across the vast expanse of the galaxy to find her. But how could that be? She had felt him die, had felt the Force take him, and yet, here was this unmistakable feeling that he was still out there, somewhere in the darkness.

She slid out of bed, her bare feet touching the cold floor as she crossed the room to the small meditation alcove she had set up by the window. The city lights twinkled below, but Rey's focus was inward, on the Force, on that faint connection that seemed to pulse with a life of its own.

She knelt on the mat, closing her eyes again as she reached out with the Force, letting it guide her. The connection was weak, almost fragile, but it was there. She could feel him, sense his presence in a place that was cold, dark, and familiar in a way that made her skin crawl. It was as if he was trapped somewhere, waiting for her to find him.

Rey's heart pounded in her chest as the realization dawned on her. He was alive. Somehow, Ben Solo was alive. The Force had brought him back, or maybe it had never let him go. But why? Why now, after everything that had happened? And why did she only sense him now, in the quiet of the night, when her defenses were down and her heart was raw with grief?

Doubt gnawed at the edges of her mind. What if this was just her own wishful thinking, her own desperate desire to see him again manifesting as a phantom in the Force? What if she was losing herself to her own emotions, unable to move past the pain of his loss?

But the connection felt so real. Rey could feel his presence as clearly as she felt the ground beneath her. She reached out again, focusing all her energy on finding him, on connecting with him. For a brief, heart-stopping moment, she thought she heard his voice, distant and faint, calling her name.

"Rey..."

Her breath caught in her throat. It was him. It had to be him. She clung to the thread of their connection, trying to draw him closer, but the darkness of the place he was in seemed to swallow him up, pulling him away from her.

"Ben," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Ben, where are you?"

There was no response, just the cold emptiness of the night and the distant hum of the city. The connection flickered and then faded, leaving her alone once more.

Rey sat back on her heels, her heart heavy with a mix of hope and fear. If Ben was truly alive, if the Force had somehow brought him back, then she had to find him. But where could he be? The vision in her mind was too dark, too vague to pinpoint a location, but there was something familiar about it, something that tugged at the back of her mind.

Exegol.

The word came to her unbidden, a whisper in the recesses of her mind. Exegol, the Sith world where she had faced the Emperor, where she and Ben had fought side by side against the forces of darkness. Could he be there? Could the dark side have resurrected him in that cursed place?

The thought chilled her to the bone, but it was the only answer that made sense. If Ben was alive, if he was somehow trapped on Exegol, then she had to go to him. She couldn't let him face that darkness alone, not after everything they had been through.

Rey rose to her feet, her resolve hardening. She would find him. She would bring him back. The galaxy could wait—this was something she had to do, something she owed to herself, to him, to the bond they shared.

She dressed quickly, grabbing her lightsaber and a few essential items before heading for the door. As she stepped out into the hallway, she glanced back at the room one last time. For a moment, doubt crept in again, whispering that she was chasing a ghost, that this was nothing more than a desperate dream.

But then she remembered the feel of his presence, the sound of his voice calling out to her, and the doubt melted away. Ben was out there, waiting for her. And she would find him.

Rey turned and headed for the hangar, her steps quick and determined. The Force was guiding her, and she would follow it wherever it led, even if that meant returning to the heart of darkness itself.

Because if Ben was alive, then there was still hope.

And she would not let that hope slip away.