"Go through the mirror Anakin."
In the dark corridors of the Force, an ancient prophecy whispers secrets of power and destruction. An enigmatic mirror holds the fate of the Chosen One, revealing that his path to bring balance is intertwined with the...
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Abyss; There is an abyss between truth and what we perceive as real. It hides in the spaces between words, in the whispers of shadows, in the questions we never dare to ask. Every step toward clarity seems to push those who seek it deeper into uncertainty, as though truth were a distant, distorted, and unreachable reflection. But the abyss is not merely empty space; it is alive, pulsating, lurking like a guardian of forbidden secrets. It feeds on doubt, shapes choices, and builds invisible walls between what is known and what is yet to come. And for those who dare face it, only one choice remains: fall or find a path through the darkness.
...
Coruscant
Night in Coruscant was a tapestry of pulsing lights, but not even the constant glow of artificial stars could banish the shadows that gathered in the corners of the luxurious room within Palpatine's mansion. It was as though those shadows had a life of their own, lurking, waiting, feeding on the secrets buried in the darkness. Anakin Skywalker slept fitfully, trapped in a nightmare that dragged him into an abyss of disjointed images and suffocating emotions, as if the Force itself conspired to keep him imprisoned in that state.
He stood in a vast, barren field where the horizon warped into impossible ripples, as though reality itself was fracturing beneath his feet. The air was thick, laden with orange dust drifting lazily, illuminated by a perpetual sun that never truly warmed. Ownerless whispers filled the silence, indistinct words carrying secrets meant only for him, yet slipping away whenever he tried to grasp them.
"Anakin..." A voice whispered, low and familiar, cutting through the chaotic murmurs. It seemed to emanate from everywhere and nowhere, like the echo of an ancient memory. He turned, searching for the source, but the treacherous wind carried the sound away before he could reach it.
He tried to run, but the ground beneath his feet began to collapse, each step growing heavier as though the planet itself sought to trap him. The barren field transformed into a wasteland of rubble, shards of glass, stardust, and something that shimmered like broken crystal. And then he saw it: the mirror. An imposing, pulsating structure, almost alive, loomed before him. Its surface gleamed, displaying distorted reflections that toyed with his mind until, at last, an image emerged.
In the glass, a figure began to take shape. The same one that had haunted his dreams for so long, a faceless shadow. But this time, it was clear. It was (Y/N). Her eyes met his, storms restrained within their depths, filled with something indecipherable: pain, despair, and yet an irresistible call.
"Anakin..." Her voice sounded again, but this time it wasn't a whisper. It was a blade cutting through his mind, sharp and inescapable. She wasn't just calling him; she was pulling him. He reached out, his fingers nearly brushing the crystalline surface of the mirror, but just as he was about to touch it, the glass exploded into a myriad of fragments.
