Dark Lord: Bride of Vader

Chapter 4: For the Man Who Has Nothing

I do not own any of the Star Wars and DC characters and ideas represented in this work.

"I know that I cannot win this battle. Nor do I wish to kill the kind-hearted man who still lives inside this black shell. So I turn to this death, to this sleep. A sleep that promises me dreams of peace." - Ben Kenobi​
There were many things Sazu didn't like, however, there were a few that, as the common folk saying goes, 'ruffled her feathers'. Unclean clothing, furniture, and uncleanliness altogether, having people talk to her mistress, Queen Maxima, without an appointment, and speaking of which, her rather brash, youthful, sometimes ignorant, hormonal, Queen is trying to find a worthy suitor for her.

Sometimes, and thankfully, not many of those things happen, except for the last part, of course. Maxima, since her coronation to become the Almercian Queen, has been trying to find a king beside her own. The suitor in question needed to be just as strong and powerful in body and mind as Maxima to complete her quest. That mentality led Mistress Maxima to chase after many dubious, scandalous, barbaric, and rather grimly uncivilized gentlemen. Her doing so somewhat caused a stir in Almerac and the people who live in it, the cause being Maxima simply ignoring her royal duties.

While still not proud of it, during that time of Maxima chasing aliens and ignoring her council's plea to actually rule, Sazu one day, some couple of years ago, said, 'enough is enough!' And she planned a coup against Maxima. One thing led to another: Sazu conceived some rather embarrassing feelings for a man named De'Cine; they staged the coup; De'Cine showed himself as an ungently man and betrayed her; she almost got killed by Maxima, and De'Cine gets dethroned for his rather short reign by Maxima and the Kryptonian.

The whole ordeal was very much a mess and very complicated, she can say that.

But after the event, both she and Maxima were eventually humbled, realizing that their whole decisions in life had caused the whole fiasco. Maxima realized that she may have gotten too fixated on finding a mate and ignored her duties. Sazu realized that she made the error of trusting a brute because he was the only man that listened to her, which he probably did so to gain her trust, and she hadn't bothered to talk with her lady.

At the end, they both were taught the errors of their ways and lived happily ever after...that is what most people would think at the very least.

Almerac has seen better days. Though completely downtrodden, the glory days of the Almeracian Empire that struck fear in their section of that galaxy were long gone. Maxima, though promised to hear her people and the wishes of the council, Sazu can see that Maxima wasn't really born to fit in the role. Yes, she was a very good warrior, swordswoman, and tactician when it came to it, but the world of trade, taxes, laws, and principles were not translatable to leading armies or exchanging hand-to-hand blows. Even when the Queen has put in her full effort into ruling, it usually ends up utterly failing. In addition, she may have also relapsed on finding a man to be her betrothed.

Rather annoying.

Sazu, though, does not realize that this will annoy her later on, for the only thing currently bringing up her frustrations is herself and her lady now walking through the streets of Warworld's capital city. Many forms of sentients were walking, bartering, and working in the streets. While many other forms of homeless, squatters, scantily looking females, and shifty-looking individuals were also present during their walk, All of these things also brought forth many forms of smells, sights, and sounds that she would rather not deal with at the moment.

Yet, her Queen Maxima insisted on walking through the streets after Mongul's games were abruptly canceled. Strangely, Maxima also seemed disappointed and even sad when the announcement from the warlord was made. Maxima was here on this planet for the single purpose of "blowing off some steam," which Sazu didn't question. But after an actual bloodbath happened and a rather barbarian-like, dark-cloaked brute cleaved those creatures apart, Maxima's taste for excitement didn't seem to quench itself.

As they walked through the bustling streets, Maxima sighed theatrically. Much like Maxima, Sazu was telepathic herself and would often want to sense her mistress's feelings. However, it was considered taboo to do such a thing to a royal without their consent, so she bothered not to. "Is there something wrong, my lady?"

"Oh, I don't know, Sazu." Maxima said this after a moment of thought. "One moment you get your hopes up on something, and the next thing you know...you just have another disappointment on your hands."

Sazu had a very, very strong feeling that she knew what her queen was saying and implying with her words. She didn't like it. "Is it another suitor, my lady?" Sazu tried her absolute best not to show her contempt and annoyance and not to conduct an eyeroll in front of her mistress.

Queen Maxima shrugged her shoulders and almost pouted. "I suppose so, but I guess..." she stopped when a deafening air siren was heard across the city. The loud mechanical yell stopped the common folk from whatever deed, deal, or other daily task they did when they too stopped and looked into the sky. Sazu and Maxima looked up at the sky and saw a lone starfighter coming through the clouds and heading towards Mongul's palace.

From its design and aftermarket parts, it looked like it was one of Mongul's ships in his personal fleet, yet curiously, the palace's integrated point-defense systems started to spray flak fire at the incoming fighter while an entire squadron of the same fighter design went to intercept the assailant. Flak fire burst clouds of energy around the ship, but none were successful, for the lone ship dodged the barrage seemingly effortlessly.

The squadron fired their own volley, trying to get their quarry, but the pilot dodged and maneuvered the rain of fire. One would think this pilot was crazy for going into an entire swarm of fighters head-on, and Sazu thought so. Just when some would think he would crash into the swarm, he fired his own weapon systems with frightening precision. He pierced through the cloud of fighters, spinning while firing his guns, creating a whirlwind of deadly energy. The fighters disappeared into blossoms of superheated gas, wings being blown apart and making them crash into one another, or some being so badly damaged that they unfortunately crashed into parts of the city.

There were at least thirty fighters, but after he struck through their line, there had to be ten left.

The first one that crashed caused a light rumble where they stood, which also caused the citizens to panic. Screams and voices of fear were made, speeders and air cars halted or tried to flee, and shopkeepers closed their stores early. The citizens trampled on one another, causing a stampede that consisted of various sentients. Most ran to their homes, to the nearest structure to hide, or to the rundown buildings for cover.

More and more debris fell from the sky as flak still thundered in the air. Ship parts landed on buildings or on the streets themselves; some even caused fires. Clouds of black smoke begin to emerge while smells of fuel and burned metal reek in the city's semi-polluted air.

In this heart-pounding and chaotic situation, Sazu would rather run like the rest of the rabble, but Maxima only looked starstruck at the rampaging fighter that just now destroyed all of the fighters.

She really had a bad feeling about this.

"It's him, Sazu!" Lady Maxima said excitedly, almost like a child seeing their favorite mascot. She pointed at the fighter, who was just now getting close to the castle despite the flak. "It's him!"

Sazu barely heard her queen amongst the panicked masses, the loud crashes made, and the ear-ringing flak being fired. But when she heard her queen say it the second time and give the pilot 'those eyes', her feeling went from bad to horrible. "What do you mean, 'him' my lady?!"

Maxima whirled at Sazu, eyes wide in ecstasy; her smile was anxiously open. "It's him, Sazu! It's Vader!"

Darth Vader is a man, or she thinks he is, a self-proclaimed 'Dark Lord of the Sith'. A title that she can say she has never heard of; however, it was a title that would've suggested he was not a gentleman of any sort. "My Lady!" She yelled out through the chaos with concern, "What are you suggesting?!"

Maxima couldn't contain herself as she grabbed Sazu with both of her arms. "Can you see Sazu?! He's the one!"

It was Sazu's turn to widen her eyes. "My Lady!" She protested. "What are you saying?!" She was almost in complete denial.

Maxima continued her excitement, "He's the one! He's the one destined to be my mate!" She drew Sazu closer and pointed up at the fighter, "Go ahead! Try to read him!"

Sazu reluctantly turned up but ultimately followed her mistress's wish. She gathered her psychic powers and tried to reach the pilot...and found some absolutely terrifying. This Vader couldn't be called a man for all tenses and purposes. He was a walking shadow, where light and brightness dared not come close to him. He was nothing, dark as an endless pit. He was like a black hole, an anomaly that warped reality itself for his own will, an anomaly that shouldn't exist, yet he was there, mocking the universe.

A terrified Sazu looked back down at her queen and said, "No, my lady!" She said with a desperate protest, "He's not the..."

"HE IS!" Maxima snapped back, "And we're going to see what he's going to do with Mongul!" She turned to the palace, where just now the fighter crashed into a large decorated window. "Come on!" She waved over for Sazu to follow. "We gotta watch!" She dashed towards the palace.

Sazu was left standing in the middle of a near-empty street. "My lady!" She tried to scream for her now-running queen, "MY LADY!" She screeched and had a voice crack at the end. Just before her final attempt to protest her queen's mad run of love, an explosion was unleashed not too far from where she was, which caused several buildings to be reduced to rubble.

The concussive wave almost knocked her off her feet and made her think about her current position in the city and how it would be best to be near her Queen. With a sigh, she lifted up the front of her dress and attempted to run the fastest she could in her high heels. She really wished she had practiced running in the royal courtyard.

***​
The starfighter that Vader took from the moon crashed into a highly decorative stained window in Mongul's castle. It sent colorful shards of glass all over the large and tall palace hallway. The fighter dipped downward and screeched as it continued its momentum on the castle's floor. It showered sparks, the alarms in the cockpit went off, and the wings broke off and jabbed themselves into the walls.

When he was coming close to a wall as it grew bigger and bigger, Vader sent a force push above the hatch; the top of the ship burst open, and the Sith Lord flew upward. The ship crashed and exploded into a ball of flames. When he landed on the ground, he was greeted by companies of Mongul's security spewing out of the smaller corridors and into the grand hall.

These aliens were made up of the same species that captured him, and others were similar humanoids with yellow skin and dressed in blue elastic combat suits. Supported in the air, the security droids in Mongul's army also surrounded Vader, hovering around and above the aliens while the guards cocked and readied their blaster rifles at the Sith. Vader took out his lightsaber and activated it, and then the slaughter began.

The droids and the guards fired their blasters, sending blue beams of killing energy at the Dark Lord, but not one of them hit their mark at any degree. Vader redirected the bolts with his red blade in a blur; he sent back beams of energy with his bare hands or moved his body out of the way of the incoming fire. Blaster bolts were sent back to their shooters or to fellow comrades, dropping them in heaps and bursting the droids in explosions. He quickly reduced their numbers, and he quickly changed some of their allegiances, making them drop their weapons and run away from the carnage.

Vader gathered within himself and attacked with a force repulse around him, sending men and droids away. Either turning them into nothing, bloody pulps, damaged husks, or mangled corpses across the large hallway. When done and no one was shooting at him, he walked amongst the damage he caused. Vader picked a direction that seemed to suggest where the throne room was; if Mongul was as petty as Vader suspected, he would have one.

When he was just about to leave the grand hall, a large group of security guards were about to enter the large hallway on the other side and attack. Lifting his hand up, he made the flames from the crash site excite and head towards the charging group. They didn't have enough time to dodge or flee, and so they were cooked alive as the whirlwind of fire consumed them and reduced them to ashy bodies.

He entered one of the lavish hallways that made up the castle and continued going upward. Along the way, he encountered squads of security guards and droids that tried to shoot him down. He sent bolts back and carved his way through their numbers, moving like a wraith, ridding hands, limbs, heads, and their lives altogether. Some more got wiser from his actions and fled the scene. The more he got up, the more security was likely to be inclined to just drop their weapons and run from the Dark Lord.

When he finally reached the top level, he was unopposed when the lavish decorating finally ended at two large doors. He made a force push, and the two doors buckled into pieces to the room on the other side. Inside was a circular room with a tall ceiling and a large window that had a view of the arena and the greater city outside.

In front of the window was Mongul, sitting on an elaborate throne to support his large weight. Next to him was a large silver cylinder container that he kept straight up by his hand. Mongul had a grin on his yellow, brutish face while the smaller blue alien, perhaps his advisor, shook feverishly at the Sith Lord. The blue alien's face turned white, and he looked like a gazelle that had just spotted a savage beast of the plains. He fled like a cowardly one too. Both men did not train their attention on the fleeing alien.

Now alone with his victim, Vader paced towards the middle of the room with his lightsaber still on, humming and hungry for Mongul's head. There was a brief, pregnant pause in between them that was filled with Vader's active lightsaber, his breathing, and the chaos happening outside that resulted from Vader's destroying those fighters.

Mongul went to say, "Did you really need to do all of..." He gestured behind Vader and cocked a yellow, hairless brow. "That?"

Vader's ire rose, for the fool in front of him hadn't realized what was about to happen and was only treating this as one of his games. He kept his fury in reserve. "What will happen soon, Mongul, I doubt you will be treating it as a game." He foretold the warlord.

Mongul grinned. "I'm sure you will..." he went up from his throne, and then, with the brute strength that Vader felt, he sent the large chair at the Sith Lord.

Vader blasted the chair into rubble with the force. At the same time, Mongul then brought up the canister in Vader's direction and started to twist it. Before Mongul could open the capsule and bring whatever was in it to Vader, the Sith sent his lightsaber at a twirling red vortex to cut Mongul's arm off. The blade made contact with his right arm, but he did not cut it off unexpectedly. It instead left a burn mark that seemed to penetrate the skin, but no more than that. The burn made the yellow warlord yell in pain, drop the canister, and clench his burn wound. The lightsaber returned to its master's black gloved grip.

Mongul's face contorted into anger at the Sith, and he targeted the capsule to retry opening it. He dashed for it, but Vader made a gesture, and the capsule was flung far across the throne room. "Whatever you have planned, Mongul..." Darth Vader declared, "Will not happen."

Mongul narrows his rageful red eyes, "We'll see about that!" He brought his arms out and made a giant clap forward that sent shockwaves across the room.

The wave was as strong as a vengeful typhoon, and the ground shook as the wind from the clap was dangerously fast. Vader was surprised by this feat and staggered back, but summoned a force bubble around him so he wouldn't be hurled back. When the shockwave of the clap ceased, Vader looked back at his quarry, who was now running towards the canister. Vader pushed his hands downward, and the floor beneath them broke and gave into the floor below.

The floor cracked and turned into rubble. The lack of a solid floor made Mongul fall down to the bottom level, along with Vader, who landed safely with the force. The capsule was brought down as well, now sticking out of the debris upright. Whatever was in this room would've been destroyed, but Vader didn't care for that.

Mongul burst out of a pile of rubble, grabbing nearby damaged slabs of his former throne room floor and sending them to the Dark Lord. Vader crushed and blasted the debris with his will, turning it into dust. He sent the last one Mongul threw back at him. Mongul saw this at the last moment and crossed his arms forward to brace himself, The rubble hit him and slightly sent him back, but he wasn't crushed.

Having had enough of this and wanting to finish the deed already, Vader began pulling his hands into his fists and was imagining a powerful and invisible large hand to crush Mongul into fine paste. Mongul's reaction was immediate, and he was forced to kneel under the extreme pressure. Vader continued to pour more force energy, making the ground around Mongul crumble and turn to dust. The crown on his head began to crack and brittle, his clothing ripping apart, blood pouring out of his nose, but the warlord was still alive.

He faced straining and veins popping out. Mongul managed to bring back his arms and smash them into the ground, causing a miniature quake to Vader. Caught off guard, the rubble sent Vader across the room and landed hard on the rubble-piled floor.

Though the pain ran across his body, he added that pain to his own strength and got back up to counter whatever attack Mongul would conduct. When he went up, he was shoved back down to the floor again by a purple blur. Before he could resist, a purple creature took hold of him, and his world was consumed by black.

***​
"Anakin..." a warm, old, motherly, and kind voice called out to him, a voice he had never heard for a long time. "Anakin...wake up, honey." The voice called to him again. "Ani...it's time to get up."

He opened his eyes and saw that they weren't damaged by the light around him. He blinked several times and realized that his body wasn't in constant pain anymore. The unbearable breathing that felt like his lungs were being scraped by sandpaper was gone. The itching synth-skin that clung to his damaged body disappeared. The nerve-racking noises his suit made were no longer there. The heavy and bulky armor that he was trapped in wasn't felt. And his arms—his arms felt real, light.

All were normal.

He was normal.

He lifted up his head, and his heart froze. He was sitting on a table in a room—a kitchen—in a Naboo-style lake house. The person who was calling him to wake up, and was on his side was Shmi Skywalker, the late mother of Anakin Skywalker.

He couldn't let his eyes off of her. His throat became dry, and he heard his heartbeat. He gathered all of the strength in the universe to speak her name, "...mom?"

Her kind smile left, and she became worried. "Is everything alright?" She placed her delicate hand on his undamaged cheek. "You don't look well."

"I...don't think...I...ever...was...mom." He didn't dare leave his gaze on her.

She rubbed his back, trying to comfort him. "Maybe you just need to eat." She looked over to the well-furnished kitchen and said, "Let me get something for you." She left him to be cold and without her touch so she could rummage and make something for her son.

She didn't wear the Tatooine slave dress he saw her most often wear. She wore a hazelnut-colored dress in the style that women in Theed would wear. Clothing that a mother should wear. She looked older, but not too much either. She looked happy. Not a hint of stress lay on her old and gentle face.

A face that, when he saw it the last time, was brutalized, defiled, tortured for amusement, and broken. A face abused by animals! A face that he abandoned! A face that he had the power to save—that he should have saved! A face that he would have saved but he couldn't because there were others who were jealous of his talents. They didn't save her because it wouldn't benefit them!

She wore the face of the mother he failed.

He shed a tear when Shmi went back with a hot plate of food she used to make back on Tatooine. When she put the food in front of him and saw the tear, she wiped the tear away with her finger. She dropped down on one knee and cupped her hand against his face. "Ani..." worried, carried her voice, "What's wrong?"

Her soft and sweet tone made him cry out some more droplets, and his eyes were starting to get red. He sniffed out, "Oh, mom..."

More worry and confusion got to her; she looked at him and didn't know what was happening. Then he heard another voice.

"Anakin?" The voice was a wise, intelligent, kind, and cultured one—a voice that he didn't hear for a long time. "Anakin?"

He turned to the man who had the voice and saw him. Obi-Wan Kenobi, his Jedi Master, a teacher, a negotiator, a fellow Republic Patriot, a comrade, a friend, and a brother.

Obi-Wan exited out of a hallway in his beige-colored Jedi robes, trimmed beard, and clean red hair, walking relaxed and confident as always. Obi-Wan saw Shmi and made a warm smile. "Oh, good morning, Shmi." He faced his former apprentice: "I've been looking for you all day, Anakin." Obi-Wan, oblivious to his former apprentice's condition at the moment, said, "Qui-Gon and Ahsoka have been wanting to speak with you after Lu-," He spots the tears in the younger man's eyes. "Anakin, what's wrong?" He went to the Jedi Knight and attempted to comfort him.

Shmi looked over to Obi-Wan and back at her son. "Anakin...you know if there's something wrong, you can tell us, right?"

He sniffed, "I...I-I don't know anymore." He looked down at the chair, trying to find answers on the polished floor. This can't be real; this isn't happening.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan places a hand on his former Padawan's shoulder and goes on a knee to be level with him. "It's alright to tell us something that's bothering you. I know I haven't always been the best for you for that sort of thing," he looked down and back at. his friend with a reassured smile. "But I've always trusted you, and you can trust me because of that, right?"

He looked at the face he remembered from long ago. He remembered the face of the man, whom he considered a brother. He remembered all of the funny dialogue and bickering they had between each other. He remembered the good times they had in the Jedi Temple. He remembered the courageous acts that they did with one another during the Clone Wars with Ahsoka and Qui-Gon, and...

Qui-Gon...

Qui-Gon is dead, he died on Naboo, way before the Clone Wars, way before he wouldn't even meet Ahsoka. Qui-Gon wanted to train him since he was a boy but didn't get the chance. He was the only one who actually believed in him.

He looked back at the face of the man, and he didn't see the brotherly face he's so accustomed to. He saw the face of the man who never even wanted to train him to begin with. He had always complained, and he was strict to him during his Padawan days. Obi-Wan always had the face of contempt. He was always jealous of his power! And because of that, he held him back! He held him back from his full potential to save his mother! He was the one who betrayed their friendship and brotherhood!

He didn't see the face of the man that he almost loved as a brother; he saw the face of a man who he wanted to kill for almost twenty years. He wanted that because it was truly the face that ruined his life.

He stiffened against Obi-Wan with newfound resolve and snarled at him, "Get away from me..."

Obi-Wan's and Shmi's faces grew in disbelief. "I'm...I'm sorry?" Obi-Wan asked as if he didn't know what he had done. Almost innocently.

He smacked the man's hand off his shoulder and snapped at him, "I said get away from me!"

He went and turned his back against them. Hands on his head, trying to make sense of everything while he felt a rumble around him.

Both of them looked at each other and were in shock. "Anakin," the man who ruined his life said, "I don't think you're well at the moment."

The mother that he couldn't save stepped closer to him and tried to soothe her son. "There's no reason to be angry, Ani. Everything's fine."

"No, it's not!" He spat out. "You're supposed to be!..." he trailed off as images of that horrid Tusken Hut entered his mind.

"Supposed to be what?" She asked, concerned.

Tears rolled down his cheek as he couldn't bear the thought of what happened. "I-...I." He put his head down.

"Anakin?..."

That voice—that one beautiful voice that he lost so many years ago. It came back to him like a ghost. He never thought he would hear that heavenly voice again.

"Anakin, are you alright?" She said it again. He couldn't help but look up and be stunned. His world froze in place when he saw her.

His wife, his lover, his angel, Padme...

She was just as beautiful as the day he lost her. Her brown, curly hair flowed behind her. Her smooth skin gleamed from the Naboo sun. She wore a dress that seemed to be made in heaven. She came out of the hallway with worry on her perfect face. She went to him, put her hands on his, and said, "Ani...what's wrong?"

He could only summon a whine and a sob when answering her, "...Padme."

"Shhhhh," she hushed him and brought her hand over his mane of hair. "It's okay, Ani; the children aren't here; just tell me what's wrong."

Children? They have children? They have a family? A family they were supposed to have but didn't. Children they were supposed to love but didn't. A marriage between themselves but couldn't. Because he couldn't save her. He couldn't protect her, not from the war, the Jedi, Sidious...himself.

At that moment, he knew. He knew it just as he painfully realized it all those years ago when painfully hearing her death.

He didn't lose her to anyone, not like a tragic death that he could've stopped like his mother's. Or a murderous betrayal like Obi-Wan. When he looked at Padme, he saw the face that he had killed on his own. He killed Padme. Anakin Skywalker killed her; he killed them all. He killed his mother because he wasn't strong enough. He killed his best friend because he didn't trust him. And he killed her out of nothing.

She died for nothing.

He dropped to the floor, bringing his hands to his face because he could not bear to see them. He sobbed and cried while Padme, Obi-Wan, and Shmi tried to reason with him and comfort him. But he couldn't hear; he only cried out their names.

"I'M SORRY MOM!" He wallowed out, and the floor began to tremble. He heard her scream, but that was overtaken by the howls of animalistic Sandpeople.

"I'M SORRY OBI-WAN!" He cried and made a stream come out of his eyes. He heard Obi-Wan say, 'Everything will be alright!' but the slash of a red lightsaber cut him down to robes.

The room shook and shook. The entire universe was rocking back and forth. "PADME! He cried out, "PADME!" He opens his raw eyes to try to get one final image of her, only to see Padme clenching her throat, trying to plead with him to stop, but she collapses to the cold metal ground on Mustafar. And he saw that it was his own hand that did it.

He raged and screamed out as the room and the whole world around him crumbled and were ripped apart to nothing. His cries of anger destroyed everything—everything but himself.

***​
He woke up, back into the suit, back into this world, back into this pain. He did not know if he was Anakin or Vader right now. He wasn't sure where Vader began and Anakin ended. Nor did he care at that fuming moment. In that instant, he only saw red; he wanted to kill the nearest living thing next to him, and it happened to be on his chest.

The purple creature, with its starfish-like appearance, some sort of set of flowers on its main body, and its long tendrils, unhooked itself as it tried to scurry away from the Dark Lord. It's already sensed its doom. Vader grabbed it with his hands and ripped it apart into two pieces. Mongul was still in the room, looking at a damaged window, Now he turned to the horribly angry Sith, surprise shown on his face.

Dropping the creature's body, and now up, he screamed out as he couldn't contain his boiling rage, "MONGUL!" His shout shook the castle, the room trembled, support columns cracked and crumbled to the floor, and the windows that were not already broken were shattered by the screams intensity. Mongul put his hands on the floor itself so that he wouldn't get carried away by the wind. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME!"

Mongul brought his hands to his ears as the eruption damaged them. The warlord got up from the ground and explained in a mocking tone, "The plant is a telepathic species that reads the heart's desire and feeds the individual a totally convincing simulation of it." He pointed at Vader, who was now balling his fists in indescribable rage, and said, "You should have stayed in whatever happy fantasy the black mercy granted you."

An explosion of Vader's hatred erupted in him, "Happy?!" His shout rocked the room again, and he put his fists up in the air. "HAAPPYY?!" He brought down his fists, and Mongul was rocketed down through the floor, followed by another sound of him crashing through the bottom floor, then again, and again. Mongul crashed through several floors downward, sounding like an echo of the previous crash.

Vader stomped to the hole Mongul disappeared into and jumped down, his cape flapping like the grim reaper. On the main floor, he landed in the grand hallway, where he crash-landed his fighter. When he was down, he saw Mongul getting back up from a crater, groaning but still alive. "DO YOU KNOW!..." his scream sent a rumble through the great hallway, "WHAT I'VE LOST?! WHAT WAS TAKEN FROM ME?!" He sent a continuous and powerful force wave towards Mongul.

The force energy atomized and pulverized everything in its wake, turning stone, debris, and whatever was caught in the attack into nothing. However, Mongul braced himself; the wave made him move back, and his feet were cemented into the ground, which broke under him when he was dragged back. His arms were in front of him for protection, and his yellow skin that made contact with the force energy peeled away and disintegrated. He yelled in pain but still held his ground.

Vader stopped the force wave and fell to his knees, his vocoder sending out wails of anguish and his cries. Mongul did the same, though in pain and realizing what was done to large parts of his skin as steam went off from him.

Even if Vader kills Mongul, it won't be enough, it will never be enough. He can kill every single living thing in the universe, and it won't be enough to get them back or to get her back. He did that already; he killed many, betrayed friends, and destroyed an entire galaxy because he wanted to protect her. And it was never enough.

It was all for nothing; he terribly realized that he was nothing and that he would die for nothing. He wanted to kill the man who ruined his life, and he thought ridding himself of Obi-Wan would satisfy that vengeful desire. That was a lie. Obi-Wan wasn't the one who ruined his life; he did this to himself. He killed all of his loved ones because he was weak.

The man who ruined Anakin Skywalker's life was Vader. And he will take Vader's life.

He got up and commanded the force to bring down the castle he was in. The columns broke and crashed onto the floor, the walls cracked and collapsed, and the top ceiling began to give in. He heard Mongul get up and run to Vader to stop him, but he was too late. The ceiling finally fell, coming straight down to the two. Vader closed his eyes and hoped that the eternal sleep that would come soon was just as comforting as his mother's embrace on Tatooine, the warm smile from Obi-Wan's face, and the kiss from his beloved Padme.

***​
He woke up and realized it was not in the way he expected. He saw the red simulacrum of his suit's helmet. He felt the same painful breathing he could never control. He was still under the suit's uncomfortable and claustrophobic grip.

He was still alive. He had failed himself again. The dark side won't kill him; it won't let himself take his own life. It will never let him go, no matter what galaxy or form of reality he is in. He was stuck in it forever. He will always be its servant; he can never escape it, no matter how hard he tries.

Trapped in the rubble of the former castle of Mongul, he made a force wave upward, and the debris exploded in dust. In the crater he made, the sun blasted its rays at him. Slowly and reluctantly, he got up and proceeded to climb up the massive heap. When he got to the top, he saw all of the damage he'd done. The massive castle he used to be in, that dominated above the arena and Mongul's city was gone, reduced to ash, dust, and rubble.

A mound of debris was sent all around, revealing Mongul, though badly wounded, with face bruises and parts of his skin gone to show muscle fiber, was still alive. His face was hot-blooded as he stared at Vader like an angry Bantha. He threw a large fragment of what used to be a column and sent it towards the Dark Lord. Vader grabbed it by force and sent it back, Mongul braced himself, and the leftover column broke from his might.

Mongul charged at Vader, making the ground shake around him. The Sith conjured a force wall between himself and the charging yellow brute. Mongul crashed onto the ground after bouncing off the invisible wall. He went up to go at Vader again, and the same thing happened twice. Gritting his teeth and getting back up, he began pounding on the protective force shield. The force wall was buckling with each blow, and the surrounding rubble was sent back by the shockwaves of each blow. Vader pressed on, however, continuing to pour more force energy into it. Catching the Sith Lord off guard, Mongul raised both arms and brought them down onto the shield with all of his brute strength.

The rubble was pushed back and flown from the impact as well as Vader. He landed on what used to be a decorative wall. On the ground now, Vader was picked up by Mongul by his right arm, and Mongul squashed his cybernetic arm. Vader let out a moan of pain as he was dropped to the ground. Mongul grabbed the Sith by the cape and threw him onto another wall; it spiderwebbed and cracked when Vader landed on it.

Stunned and his electronic breathing becoming wheezing, he was on his knees on the rubble when Mongul went up to him. "For a second, I thought you were going to kill me..." he mocked the downed Dark Lord of the Sith, "but you're just another pathetic worm like Draaga." He lifted both arms to crush Vader. "Time to die, pest."

Vader, having one final counteroffensive planned, went into himself and then went into Mongul through the force. He searched through his powerfully built chest cavity and found a large artery that went from his pounding heart to his brain. At the middle point, Vader poured all of his fears, his anger, his hatred, and his pain from all parts of his dark being onto this middle point. It felt like trying to hold back a large river, making him put more power into this imaginary dam. But the blood flow that had the strength of a rushing river was held back by the forces of the dark side. The blood flow ceased and caused a disturbance in Mongul's body.

Mongul was just about to bring his might to bear onto Vader but paused, his eyes widening, He dropped his arms in an exhausted manner and started to walk back, disorganized and with no sense of balance. His left side of his face started to relax and droop lazily, as if melting. The alien warlord tried to find balance but couldn't; he attempted to stabilize himself on a piece of rubble but fell clumsily onto the damaged ground.

Vader, getting back up, was still concentrating on keeping his death grip on the artery. Moving to Mongul, with his fist clenched, as if he were choking on the vein itself, he tore on the Warlord and had his back on the ground.

Mongul tried to reach for the Sith Lord, to find anything to disturb his concentration, or to do anything, but it was useless. His body is now weak and extremely exhausted; he can barely move his arm in Sith's direction. Mongul tried opening his mouth for oxygen in order to provide some relief.

Vader saw this. He knew it would be difficult to choke the yellow brute, his hold on the artery included. So whatever ounce of reserve willpower he had that wasn't stopping Mongul's blood, he commanded the force to make the air around the brute ruler vanish. A second after doing the act, Mongul's eyes widened, though labored, as he realized that there was no air. His mouth opened like a fish out of water, trying to find fresh air but finding nothing.

Then he exhaustedly turned his slack face to Vader and showed fear. Yes, fear of the Sith above him. In the relationship between Mongul and Vader that will be very short-lived in a moment, the yellow ruler only humiliated, mocked, and shamed the Sith. In his arrogance created by a powerful body, he must've thought he was invincible, unchallenged. Now, though, Vader can smell the fear irritating the man. This will be the first and last time the warlord has even been mortally wounded.

He is humbled now and will be that forever. "I told you, Mongul." Vader said it with no sympathy. "That I will give you a painful death."

"Pl-pl-..." Mongul managed to puff out before he would be cast into unconsciousness. "Plea-please..."

Darth Vader did not give any quarter to Mongul, the ruler. Just when the ruler's eyes were about to shut. Vader activated his lightsaber. "Those who beg for mercy don't deserve it." He thrust down his lightsaber at the neck of Mongul.

It took time to melt through the skin, neck muscle, and bone—several minutes, in fact. He pressed down the lightsaber with both hands, even the one that was damaged, as he needed all of his strength. He pressed down with all of his mechanical might. All of this time Mongul was helpless, and at some point during the slow, possibly painful beheading, he died. Vader sliced one way to the left slowly, then to the right. After some time, Mongul's head finally went off the heavily burned stump.

When finished, he deactivated his lightsaber and held Mongul's lifeless head in his good arm. He held it up to see his red eyes. His face was stuck in motion with an expression of terror. He held his gaze for a while. He wanted to feel that he had achieved a victory on his own. He wanted to feel accomplished. But he can't; he can't feel a thing.

In the moment he entered his new realm, the only purpose, a goal, he made for himself was to take vengeance on Mongul. The Sith thought that his own misfortune of being transported from his galaxy to this new one was somehow Mongul's fault. He wanted to believe the warlord had something to do with the hyperspace accident. He wanted someone to hate.

But now he realizes that was hollow.

He didn't feel defeated because he was humiliated. He didn't feel a sense of victory because he was thrown around by two brute aliens. He didn't feel better because his killings weren't contributing to his eternal pursuit of peace and order, even though that quest doesn't matter here.

He felt defeated because the light of Anakin Skywalker broke through his shadow. The light from that dead star broke through Vader's cold, heartless universe, which he worked so hard to build. The dream, if he can even call it that, that creature made shouldn't be able to coax and whip Vader into a frenzy. Yet it felt so real; it felt as though that was his life, Instead of betraying the Jedi and helping the Emperor create the Empire, he would have been just a son, a brother, a father, and a man. No suit, no Sith, no Empire, or no Sidious Just himself.

He shook those unwanted thoughts out of his head but found it difficult to. The idea of 'what could have been' clung to him like the very parasite that gave him that very concept. Anakin Skywalker's past had no meaning to him, yet his past made Vader go down the path of revenge just earlier and made him not act as his usual self.

In the Sith Lord's dark universe that he created himself, he stood on a celestial body alone. He looked up at the cold, unforgiving night sky that only showed the truth of existence. But in that truth, he saw a spec of light, insignificant and small yet still there. Being defiant against the dark. In that moment, he was one of those beings that gazed into their night skies in search of stars. Any search for light.

He asked himself an inconceivable question: is Anakin Skywalker alive? Does that very star that he was gazing at in that instant still exist? That it isn't just a memory of the light from a dead star, but right now it is alive, emitting light that was traversing the cold universe so that it may reach him?

He stood still when he felt the warm light of that star, Anakin Skywalker, hit him. One shade of that light was that Tatooine boy; the other was the young Jedi learner; and the last was the Jedi Knight. All of them asked Vader to come with them, saying that it didn't need to be this way. Things can go back to how they were before all of the pain and suffering happened.

Vader tiredly said 'no' to them. There is never going back. There is no 'back' to go to. He will always be this; he will always be Vader. Nothing can change it. He has to be Vader, or else there will be nothing else, right?

Vader went back into himself; he covered the three shades of light that were in the form of Anakin Skywalker and returned to his shadow. They didn't scream or struggle this time. They accepted their place, but not their fates. Vader knew this; he can never get rid of them, no matter how hard he tries.

Alone now, possibly forever, he only stood amongst the rubble, with Mongul's worthless head in his hand. He accomplished his first goal by coming to this new realm. But now he has no new one after that.

He had no purpose.

He stood motionless, trapped in his head. He didn't know how long, perhaps hours. He felt the presence of several sentients coming behind him, though he didn't turn around. He felt that they were Larfleeeze, the ex-slaves, and the dungeon dwellers, trying to navigate the rubble to reach Vader. Perhaps they had a successful slave revolt after Vader defied Mongul, or maybe their cells were destroyed during Vader's fight with Mongul; perhaps Mongul's left their cells unguarded after Vader slaughtered them. It doesn't matter. He didn't care.

When they got closer, they spotted the headless body of Mongul and saw that Vader had his head. One conclusion led to another. They gasped and murmured between each other. Larfleeze went out from the hapless crowd to Vader with shock, "You...killed Mongul, my Lord." He looked down at Mongul's head, "You're... You're the ruler of Warworld. The crown is yours!"

Though Vader wasn't surely listening too much, he got out of his trance-like state when the dog reminded Sith of his position now. He gazed down at the head, the silver skull-cap-like crown that wrapped itself behind Mongul's hairless cranium was still on, though heavily damaged. He took the crown off the head and dropped the worthless, decapitated head. With his one good arm, he studied the crown.

"Could I?..." he thought to himself, "Could I...maybe..."

Vader didn't finish his thought when he heard a loud and feminine voice yell out, "THERE HE IS!"

The crowd looked behind at Vader, where the voice was made, as well as at the Dark Lord. On a pile of rubble, looking thrilled beyond belief, was a somewhat young human female, or at least he thinks she could be human. She had long crimson hair, a flexible black bodysuit that was in the mixed style of combat armor and regal attire, golden pauldrons that ran parallel with her shoulders, a short stack of golden neck rings, a white cape, and a black tiara that hugged the outer edges of her face from her hair.

Vader sensed the red-haired woman had telepathic power, but not in the form of force energy, and rightly concluded that the woman who was joyfully looking at him was the same woman who tried to mind probe him. Sliding downward through the rubble, the red-haired woman impatiently went to Vader while another woman followed suit. Struggling to keep her green dress from getting cut up and dirtied, the other woman was also human-looking, slightly older, in an elegant emerald dress with an elaborate headpiece in the same color, in addition to her whiter skin color with makeup.

The Sith hid his damaged hand under his black cloak when the excited woman got closer to him to study the Dark Lord while the aliens behind him began to murmur something that involved 'Maxima'.

The woman, possibly Maxima, got close to Vader so that she could get a good look at him. She said his name almost unbelievably, "Darth Vader..." She looked up and down at him, then sent an excited and joyful, "Yow!" Vader doesn't know what she meant by that burst of emotion, nor did he care. She was going to say something but stopped when she actually noticed Vader had Mongul's crown, which led her head down further to see Mongul's head along with his decapitated body next to Vader. Somehow, this excited her further. She brought her gloved white hands up in sincere joy and said, "Oh Vader! You are the one!"

Vader narrowed his eyes under his helmet, "And you are?..."

Maxima flung red hair around to show it, cocked her hip exaggeratedly, as if that would make her more attractive to Vader, and gestured to herself for her introduction: "I am the Lady Maxima: Warrior Queen, Head of the Royal House, leader of all Almerac!"

Vader asked a question in an uncaring and unemotional way, "And that is supposed to mean anything to me?

She changed her posture and stepped closer to him, almost seductively, though this did not affect the Dark Lord. "It will be...when you prove yourself worthy to be my mate..." she said, going closer to cup her hand onto his black Sith mask and looking determined. "My love..."

"Love?" Vader said the word in his head, sounding disgusted and repulsed by it. His eye twitched, though it was not seen outside of his mask. Love was an emotion that some Sith of the past enjoyed, romantically or carnally. For it was a passion, which in itself was part of the Sith code. But to Vader, it was useless because love was for fools and weaklings. Love can chain the powerful to other beings and hold back their true strength. Love can make others predictable and can become a liability. Love is a lie. But this wasn't entirely the case for Vader.

Perhaps many years ago, he had some form of emotion toward someone else, a woman specifically. But he dared not to think about her name or entire existence, for that love was too much of a lie, manipulated and destroyed by Obi-Wan. That young, bashful Vader learned through his mistakes and was humbled. Love has no relevance to him or to his power.

This woman will surely be disappointed and will die for her own foolish hallucinations.

"Love has no meaning to me, woman." He responded as coldly as the void between worlds. "And you are nothing to me."

Her smile shifted down as if she had just heard one of her most cherished family members had died. "Wha....what?" She said it quietly, disbelief leaking from her words.

"I said." Vader slightly went closer, saying, "You are nothing to me, and now you will be nothing altogether." He dropped the crown, cocked his arm to the side, and smacked the supposed queen with enough strength to send her across the rubble.

She disappeared in a cloud of flying debris and dust. The lady that followed her screamed out, "MY LADY!" And she ran the fastest she could to her queen, in spite of the dress she wore. The crowd of aliens gasped at the Dark Lord and gawked at him. Vader grabbed the crown, turned his back around from the cloud of dust, and walked away.

The crowd was still gawking, but they were gazing beyond him and getting surprised. "Umm..." Larfleeze said, "Lord Vader."

Before Vader could ask the dog what pointless thing he's going to say, Sith was lifted off his feet, and he yelled in surprise. He looked down and was shocked to see Maxima, still alive, not bruised at all, she didn't look too pleased with Vader's response. "NO ONE SAYS NO TO ME!" She yelled at Vader and threw him across the rubble like a ragdoll, where he landed on a fallen column.

Vader quickly got back up. As surprising as it was to see beings like Draaga or Mongul survive his attacks, it was more surprising to see a human-like being survive a hit like that, despite most sentients would have been mangled beyond recognition.

He activated his lightsaber with his one good artificial hand. The enraged Maxima saw this and grabbed the nearest rebar from the cracked debris, did something truly incredible. Once she grabbed it, the metal bar was encased by a bright light of energy, took a silhouette of a sword, the light disappeared, and then she revealed an actual sword. It showed no hint of actually being made out of the material, instead, it looked like it was crafted by a talented blacksmith with its black handle, golden hand guard, and shimmering heavy blade.

Vader didn't know if this was another type of teleporter technology or some sort of advanced forge technology, but that didn't matter right now, what mattered was her death by his hands. The alien crowd saw what was about to occur and scurried away. They hid behind the chaotic rubble while peeling their heads out to see the brawl. Maxima's follower did the same.

Vader let Maxima have the first action, and she took it by announcing it with a war cry and charging at him. She brought her broadsword over her head to cut the Sith in half. When she got close to bringing down the blade at his head, Vader simply slashed the sword, cutting it down by the handguard. The blade clattered harmlessly on the ground, and Maxima looked down at the sizzling, smoking hilt of what used to be her weapon.

She awkwardly laughed and looked at Vader with a sudden realization: "Eh, mayb I-." Before she could finish, Vader sent her straight back with a telekinetic wave. She flew in the air and crashed into a jagged piece of stone, which was used by two aliens as cover. Her impact destroyed the rubble, and she collapsed onto the aliens before they could escape the trajectory she was put into.

Expression snarling and strands of red hair on the front of her face, she threw away the hilt in annoyance and picked up one of the aliens that were twice her size, then proceeded to throw him at Vader. The Dark Lord cut down the alien in half when he got close; the two pieces of the body landed on either side of him, bringing the smell of burnt flesh into the air.

"You are an annoying woman." Vader stated as he stared at the fuming Queen of Almerac.

"And you're dead!" Vader felt psychic energy build up in her, and when she extended her right hand in his direction, she sent a beam of yellow energy out of her palm that headed towards the Sith.

Vader was surprised, but not stunned to the point of not doing anything, nor did it surprise his precognition, so he held his lightsaber in front of him and deflected the beam to the side. The beam hit a piece of rubble, which vanished in a cloud of heat and smaller chunks of debris. The deflection caused the Maxima woman to stop her beam for a moment, and then she groaned in anger. She then fired multiple shorter bursts of yellow energy from both hands at the Dark Lord.

Vader deflected every single one of them. He twirled his lightsaber around, making a wall of red energy against the energy barrages. Bolts of psychic energy went to the ground, in the air, hitting and causing rubble to smaller pieces of rubble, or hitting an unfortunate alien trying to look at the brawl.

Having had enough of her temper tantrum, Vader sent a psychic bolt straight to her. She couldn't react and was blasted back by her own energy beam. She crashed onto the ground, and Vader made his move. He force-dashed at the arrogant Queen, becoming a wraith intending to bisect the woman. Maxima was just fast enough to see this and roll around when his blade was going to cut her down. She used her legs to knock Vader off his feet.

He fell hard to the ground on his back. A warning from the force told him that the now up Maxima got a boulder and was going to crush him with it. He reeled his leg back and sent a kick into her stomach. Her body folded inward from the hit, and the boulder dropped to the side. The wrench landed on a rubble pile while Vader got back up.

The mad woman recovered from the attack, using her hands to clean herself off, and then stomped her way towards Vader. He attempted to blast her away with the force, but she was quick enough to summon a telekinetic shield around her. He poured more force energy into it, turning it into a grip, and the shield broke. She grunted and somewhat collapsed onto the ground, When she got back up, she put both hands on her throat.

Vader had his forefinger and thumb close to each other and noticed that, though it would have killed any other being, she was still alive. She held her throat irritatedly. He put more energy into the invisible choke, and she was denied air.

She clenched her throat desperately as if that would do anything. Her face in pain and making choking sounds, she attempted to break the hold with her own telepathic energy, but the dark side had her in its grip, and no amount of psychic power could stop her from meeting her fate.

The handmaiden urgently went to Vader, grasped his damaged arm, and pleaded, "Please, Lord Vader! She's lost; you won! You can stop it now! PLEASE!" Vader had none of it and smacked Maxima's servant to the side, though she was notedly alive.

Her life at his hand, her face now turning purple, her white hands still at her throat, she looked at Vader with eyes of sudden fear as she was close to being choked to death. She almost looked like she was pleading with him for mercy, but she couldn't because the words were stuck in her throat. Vader was prepared to take her life and humble her about what it means to cross paths with a Sith when he looked into her eyes.

Her eyes...the hands on her throat...the way she pleaded with him...it made an image pop into his head of Padme in the same manner.

He recoiled, stopped his hold on her throat, and she fell to the ground, now wheezing much needed air. She rubbed her tender throat as her handmaiden tried to comfort her. Vader only turned around and looked down on the ground.

He reprimanded himself for letting another fragment of the dead Jedi's life break his Sith resolve and make him weak. But then he investigated the memory closely and deciphered that it wasn't completely owned by the Jedi. It was the young Vader and the Jedi's combined memory. A crossroads between the Sith and Jedi paths. The line between dark and light was blurry in that foggy memory, where shadow and day struggled for control.

He remembered that Anakin was present at that time, with his wife, explaining that they could rule the galaxy together with their child. Or was it children? He can't remember now. Then he remembered Padme pleading with Anakin to run away, saying that they could raise their child with no strings attached and no galaxy to rule. Just them. Them and their love for each other.

Love...

That word did really mean something to Vader, after all. He did all of the things he did in the name of love—the love of the galaxy, the love of his friends, the love of his wife.

He destroyed the Jedi and the Republic so that the galaxy he loved would finally know peace and order. Despite his hatred for Obi-Wan, he loved the man so much that he told them they didn't need to fight and that Vader didn't need to kill him. He loved Padme so much that he did all of that for her, for her safety, to protect her.

He stood silently, staring at the ground below him. He felt Maxima get up and walk to his side. She joyfully proclaimed, "You are...my equal! No!...more than that...my destined lover." She clinged onto him.

Vader didn't smack her away or make an attempt to kill her. He had no annoyance or anger in his voice. He defeatedly responded while still looking down, "Leave me alone..."

"I can't," she said, taking her arms off of him for a moment, "You don't know how long I've been waiting for someone like you to come before me. For too long I've been trying to find worthy men to be my mate and king beside my throne. None were worthy," she calmly tapped his padded chest, "But you...you're more than that."

Vader scoffed at her words, though he didn't show emotion at them: "You are mistaken as you are foolish, woman; I could do no such thing."

"Why not? She asked curiously, "Think about it," she clinged to him once more with additional passion. "With our powers, our skills...our love. We can rule this galaxy together! My empire...your empire."

His empire? "My empire..." Those two words were spoken by the young Vader when he told Obi-Wan his destiny and his right to rule the galaxy. But that right was taken from him by Obi-Wan and Sidious. Vader wanted the Galactic Empire; he wanted to lead sentient life to glory but couldn't, for Sidious made sure that he was the only Sith to have total control of the galaxy. Even when Vader quite possibly had the resources and the force power to overthrow Sidious, the Sith Master had the raw strength to put Vader in his place.

Vader thought he could get another force user to help him kill Sidious, Galen Marek and his clone were one of them. But Vader made the mistake of choosing the boy, though powerful as he was, he wasn't strong enough to gain the attention of the dark side, and so he betrayed Vader. After those near-fatal attempts, he gave up on controlling the Empire and becoming the Master of the Sith Order.

But now, in this new realm, this new galaxy or universe, he is in, there was no Sith, at least what he knew of. There was no Sidious, and there were no other Sith or Inquisitors to contest him. There was no Jedi to worry about trying to stop him from taking over this galaxy. It was even possible that he was the only one who knew about the force. It hit him like a fist to his stomach when the realization got to him. He might have a total monopoly over the force itself. His teachings, studies, techniques, skills, and knowledge of the force and mastery in the Sith arts are his now.

No Sidious to say otherwise. Darth Vader is now the only master in the Order of the Sith Lords. He was the ruler of the Sith. And because of that knowledge, it gave him power he never felt for a long time. He felt free now to do as he pleased.

NOTE [Play Plagueis Music from ROTS]​
He felt the shadowy presence of the dark side come to his ear and whisper in, "The Sith is yours, Vader, and for that, the dark side. Use your powers to recreate what was wrongly taken from you, get back what was your birthright, and become this realm's ruler...their savior."

In that blank of the second, he had realized what had transpired. The dark side had crowned him as its lone champion, to bring forth its terrible power to its and his enemies. With the dark side behind him, he will finally have his dream of an empire, a galaxy that will know peace, freedom, justice, and security that will be created through his new galactic order. A new order will be created and designed by Sith's hands. By his hands. All the Sith that will come after him will have to acknowledge his power and pledge allegiance to him and him alone. The sentients of this galaxy will be led out of their chaotic stupor and will be thankful for it. Those who let it happen in the first place will be destroyed.

In that powerful void in himself that seems infinite, he thought of a possibility that could happen. With this strange new galaxy that he was in, with its wonder technology that his galaxy might've had but lost, he thought of a dream. It was a dream to take back his body, his arms, and his legs. For the longest time, he never replaced his suit's life support systems with better ones due to his fear of dying from the risky operation.

Now, though, with the advanced technology around him that his galaxy couldn't provide, that dream could be a reality. To be stuck in this suit and have no limbs was like being a blind painter or a deaf composer. That potential to not just have ultimate power, but to be it and to lose it was soul-crushing to him. Now, he can gain it back. To gain his right back, to paint this realm into his own imagination, to orchestrate a piece of music that will be the civilization he will create—a civilization needed for this galaxy and what sentient life deserved.

The knowledge of this full power possibly coming back to him was so great that he could almost feel it again.

There will be those who will stop him. These Guardians from Oa and their Lanterns surely will. They have allowed chaos to brew in this realm and failed the test to bring peace. Criminals, savages—the bottom feeders of life—will strike back, as well as other beings who will not take a liking to the new order he will construct.

But they will lose, for the extreme power of the dark side has no equal, and the Sith will triumph.

All of this was his. All of this power, though he will need to create his empire from the ground up, is his. All of it can be granted by just saying one simple word to one simple woman. He will need to be smart about this new role, for he is not able to romantically and physically please, not that he cares for it. But with the power of being a new Emperor in the new order, he will be granted such rights again. And with her blind love for him, he can manipulate her to do whatever or think whatever, so those rights could be taken back, and he will be whole again.

All he has to do is say one word.

He looked at the impatient and excited Maxima, who still held him. He pried his mouth open to give her the response she wanted. "Yes."

Maxima's eyes grew wider than possible, and her lips shivered. "Yes, what?"

Vader had to force himself to explain further. "Yes...I accept to be your..husband...to be...your...love."

Vader was immediately taken in by her uncanny strength for a human-looking woman and almost died of asphyxiation. Maxima's joy spread amongst the alien rabble, sending cheers and applause at the apparently newlywed couple. Maxima's handmaiden looked at her queen with absolute shock and horror.

In this moment, with that phrase Vader reluctantly uttered, an empire was born.

***​
When the Dark Side woke up from its slumber and decided to act against the currents of the force, a select group of beings from different worlds, species, and realms felt it in their own ways. From strong telepaths, practitioners of other order or chaos magic, those who were attuned to the emotional spectrum, or some beings that others might consider gods, have all felt the great disturbance. The awakening of the dark side was so intense that it spilled over to all manner of realms in that corner of the universe.

One sorcerer in a tower of fate felt an ancient dark power awaken that was so great that chaos magic was partially dipped in its favor.

An Amazonian queen on a secret island flet a horrible storm and originally thought the Gates of Hades had been reopened, but she realized that this storm would have a greater reach and consequences that the gods might not be able to contain.

A purple-haired Greek witch imprisoned in Tartarus felt a great wave of power emerge in from the depths and wondered if she could use it, while another witch from Arthurian England felt the same and scoffed at the possibility that another could be just as powerful as her, and then had the foreboding realization that it might happen.

A girl who had no real name and only knew of being studied and made into a weapon cried and panicked out to her jailers about a man made out of pure shadow coming for her in her own dreams.

One Martian protector who was the last of his race gained a horrible migraine that lasted for hours while his comrades were helpless to relieve it.

A council of ancient guardians from an ancient race felt a shockwave in the emotional spectrum. An overflow of fear, greed, and anger nearly drowned their senses, and the energy field they used to guard space was almost overtaken by a dark and twisted power they had little knowledge of.

A dark warlord overseeing his fiery domain felt this presence and only noted it as another weakling to crush, while his counterpart in his own heavenly realm felt the source wall was in peril.

And a princess, a beautiful, angelic young woman with black wings, raven hair, and skin made out of the same color as the free sky, in a beautiful world, felt a dark shiver up her naked spine while bathing in the stream she goes to so that she may be alone. She thought about it for a moment and simply shrugged it off. She has better things to do and better things to worry about, like the many and near-infinite suitors who want her but truly just want her body. She was beautiful, and it was a gift and a burden. She can only wish someone could look through her beauty and see who she really is. But she doubts that will ever happen.

Her moment of comfort will be short-lived, as she can already see her family's owned slave servant come from the woodland to probably tell her about another suitor sent by her annoying mother. Though she may not realize this, her comfort will not return to her for months. For she will be undone and tortured by the cruel men that her mother unknowingly brought. The princess does not know that the being that caused her shiver will indeed save her, but not in the way she thinks. That being will see her through her, beyond her beauty, but not in the way she likes. The being will set her free, but not in the way she wants. Her destiny was now set, forged in fear, anger, and hatred that were born from the cruelty her captors gave her. Her fate will cross paths with this dark being, and she will be set free and reborn into the Order of the Sith Lords.

All of these beings had different ways of feeling this darkness rise, but they all came to the same conclusions. They felt a sense that can only be described as a scream from the universe, as if it were in agony from giving birth to an unwanted child. A child that could be described as a black hole, destroying and warping light in his own will.

Many of these beings did not realize it, for a Dark Lord of the Sith was born into their universe. The dark side has awakened from its slumber and is now ready to reign supreme over creation. Their universe just got darker.

***​Notes. Not gonna say who was the princess, but if you are a Lantern fan you might know and might find it strange, but I will explain it later.