This new life of mine is beautiful. It's wonderful—so full of life, so full of passion, power, and ambition. It is beautiful. I do not care how I arrived here. I only care for how I will now live. I will take this opportunity with my whole being and show this universe why it should be proud of its very existence.
When I first arrived in the system of Korriban, I awoke to its greeting, and I was filled with wonder. When I first saw the stars, the vastness of space, I was filled with delight. When I first saw Korriban, I was filled with awe and when I felt its grand malevolence, I was filled with ambition.
I could feel the world around me quake. Not in fear, but in awe. I could feel the people around me flinch in fear, in wonder, in calculation. I could feel their confusion, and their caution when I questioned them. And I understood that fear. After all, not many people enjoy speaking to a roaring beast.
When I first read the texts of the Sith, I was enraptured. Not by their power. Not by their anger. But by their passion. How they roared at the world around them, how they bared their spirit and their will. It was beautiful. It was what I needed to see to truly understand that I could be free here. I could let go in these bloody halls and truly scream.
When I was first attacked, I was filled with happiness. The initiate who attacked me was filled with fear fear of me. He wanted to kill me to save the universe from what I might become. He was the only one, I think, who knew what I was going to do. We fought in the sands of Korriban, and I let him roar. He showed me his spirit, his will, his mission. He fought not just to win, but to warn the galaxy.
I killed him.
In the end, I was the one who would roar at the universe itself.
I killed him quickly. He showed me who he was in that fight, and I respected him for it. I buried him with the respect he deserved for roaring in the face of the beast who would shake the galaxy. But even with that respect… he annoyed me.
He didn't fight me at his best. He didn't plan it. He didn't gather allies or strike from the shadows. He didn't give me the respect I deserved. So I will make sure the others who come after me know who they are dealing with. That they will need to be at their best to face me. Whether they fight me in groups, with cunning, with passion, with grenades, with blasters, with the Force—it won't matter.
They must come prepared for their last fight. They must come ready to scream with every ounce of strength in their souls. Because I will. And I will roar louder.
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When they were summoned, none of them were surprised. They knew it would come. Some felt fear. Some felt dread. Some were already calculating how they would pass this trial—and two were excited.
They stood in silence, waiting for the Overseer to begin, watching as he finished whatever work he was doing on his terminal. When he finally rose from his seat and stepped in front of his desk, the room shifted. He gazed at each of the fourteen one by one, holding every gaze for a second too long. Once he had given everyone his full attention, he began to speak.
"You all know why you are here. Your first trial will be to enter the tomb of Ajunta Pall, in the Valley of the Dark Lords. There, you will search for these."
He activated a holoprojector, and a shimmering blue image appeared, a stone tablet, worn and ancient, with unfamiliar symbols etched into its face.
"These tablets are what you will bring back to me. Return with one, and you pass. Fail to bring one back... and you will suffer the consequences."
He deactivated the emitter and returned to his seat. A slow, knowing smile crept across his face.
"But before you go," he added, voice colder now, "it may be useful to know that there are only twelve of these tablets within the tomb."
With a casual wave of dismissal, he turned back to his terminal, already ignoring them.
The initiates didn't need to be told what that meant. Fourteen had entered the room. Only twelve would pass if that many even survived. The air tightened with tension. Some exchanged glances. Others looked ahead in silence, already weighing their odds.
Then it happened. Varrin calmly walked out of the room. That was the spark. The others rushed after him, each one scrambling to be the first to reach the tomb. Feet pounded against the cold stone floor, desperation in every step.
Only two remained: Alexander and Maelis Korr.
Alexander seemed entirely unaware that the rest of the group had left. He was absorbed in the chamber around him, admiring the artistry carved into its walls the symbols, the reliefs, the pride etched into the very architecture. He saw not just the power, but the story the passion of the sculptor, the pride of the Sith, the spirit that bled through every stroke of history. It was beautiful to him, like a roaring declaration of identity.
Maelis, by contrast, was unsettled. Most would have missed it, her control was strong but not for Alexander, and certainly not the Overseer. She was quietly broiling with anxiety, her expression unreadable to the untrained eye, but her presence in the Force trembled with tension and uncertainty. Most of it aimed at Alexander.
He noticed, and he was disappointed.
She was a polished gem, but not a cut one. Passionate, yes—but contained. A woman driven to win, not to be known. She didn't seek to carve her legend into the galaxy's bones—she only wanted to survive and succeed. That wasn't enough. Not for him.
He turned toward her, brow furrowed.
"Do not stew in your anxiety. It doesn't suit you. This place has no patience for hesitation. Commit to your plan. See it through until it no longer serves you. Anything else is a waste of a life."
Maelis blinked. He'd pierced her mental shields with disturbing ease, and her pride bristled at the intrusion. But she didn't respond with outrage. She understood the message for what it was—a challenge, and perhaps, an opportunity.
She straightened herself and regained composure, her voice calm and precise.
"Alexander," she said, "we should form an alliance. I can make this partnership worth your while. There are truths this Academy hides from the uninformed—factions, conspiracies, ambitions. I can guide you through them. With your strength and my knowledge, we could dominate this place."
Alexander remained still, his face unreadable. Then he tilted his head and studied her as if he were gazing into her very essence.
"An intriguing offer," he said slowly. "It would save me time. But if I rely on you... how will I indulge my wonder? What joy is there in uncovering a secret already whispered in my ear? Where is the thrill in a danger already named before it bares its teeth?"
His words struck her like cold iron. She did not truly understand him. She realized that with clarity now. He wanted something different something deeper, stranger, and far more dangerous than she'd assumed.
Still, she did not relent.
"If we work together," she offered, "I won't spoil your discoveries I will enhance them. I can lead you to opportunities, point toward enemies worth your attention. I could... even encourage certain threats to make themselves known."
That made him smile. And when Alexander smiled, it was wrong. His lips stretched too wide, too still, too slow. His eyes were like the void between stars deep, silent, and ancient. Maelis had to force herself not to step back.
But then he extended his hand.
"Now that," he said softly, "seems like a wonderful idea, my friend. You will become my cultivator, and together, we shall work as one. I will deliver our victories. You will ensure my enemies roar."
She reached out and shook his hand, careful, measured as if any moment he might devour her whole.
From behind them, the Overseer watched with sharp, narrowed eyes. He seemed both intrigued and faintly annoyed that Maelis had secured Alexander's attention. His hand hovered over the terminal, ready to inform her rivals of this new alliance.
Then he paused. Alexander was staring at him. The Overseer met that gaze. It was not a threat, not directly. It was a warning. A curiosity. A quiet challenge.
After a long moment, the Overseer gave a slight nod and did nothing. He would not interfere. Alexander would get his enemies. One way or another. Depending on how this deal would go Maelis may have secured her survival or secured her death one he preferred more than the other.