VMMMM—!!
The shrill screech of two lightsabers clashing tore through the frozen air. At the moment their plasma blades collided, dazzling sparks of energy erupted, illuminating every speck of dust around them in stark clarity.
The instant Obi-Wan Kenobi regained his freedom, he gripped his lightsaber hilt with both hands, muscles straining to their limits, and slashed upward from below—
CLANG—!
He barely blocked Darth Vader's overhead strike, but the impact drove his knees hard into the ground, cracking the sand beneath him into a web of fractures.
The old Jedi's knuckles went white with strain, and the hilt trembled violently in his palm, as if ready to fly from his grasp at any moment.
On the surface, the two seemed locked in a stalemate, but in truth, the difference between them was immense.
Vader wielded his crimson lightsaber effortlessly with one hand, blade unwavering, not deviating even a hair's breadth.
His stance was so calm it bordered on elegance—as if this weren't a duel to the death, but merely a long-overdue "training session."
That pale face bore a cold, mocking smile.
Obi-Wan's breathing, however, was completely out of rhythm, sweat running from his graying temples, collecting at his jaw before falling onto the "cold" sand—freezing upon contact.
His blue-white saber was slowly being pressed back by Vader's unrelenting pressure, the plasma nearly touching his chest, the searing heat scorching the hem of his Jedi robe, curling and blackening the fabric.
"You've gotten worse, Obi-Wan."
Vader's voice was low and smooth, like a serpent gliding across silk.
He tilted his saber slightly, and the pressure abruptly increased. Obi-Wan's blade inched closer to his own throat.
"I thought two decades in exile would at least keep you sharp."
Vader chuckled, his beast-like pupils flickering with cruel delight. "But now you're even weaker than you were on Mustafar."
Obi-Wan clenched his jaw tightly, but could not refute him.
Vader was right—his strength had long since faded, while the opponent before him was far stronger and more ruthless than "Anakin" ever was.
"You thought hiding on Tatooine could let you escape fate?" Vader pressed harder, Obi-Wan's arms beginning to tremble uncontrollably. "But I..."
The Dark Lord's voice suddenly twisted with a manic fervor—
"I slaughtered heretics in the ruins of Coruscant, listened to the whispers of the gods in the void of space. My blade has drunk the blood of the guilty. My hands have torn apart those who dared stand in my way."
With a sudden surge, Vader's lightsaber blasted Obi-Wan away. The Jedi was flung back and slammed into the ruins behind him.
Dust swirled as Vader advanced slowly, his voice stabbing into Obi-Wan's ears like ice:
"And you? You've done nothing but wait for death in the desert."
Step. Step.
Vader's metal boots crushed the psy-frozen scorched earth, leaving burning footprints in the sand with every step.
The enjoyment on his face abruptly vanished. His vertical pupils contracted to pinpoints, and his smirk turned into a cold, straight line.
"Now…"
His voice no longer carried mockery, but a calm suppressed fury—like the silence before a volcanic eruption.
"I give you one last chance, Obi-Wan."
Chaos energy gathered at his crystalline fingertips, forming chains of dark red lightning that cracked through the air.
"Tell me where you hid my child."
"Kh…khak…"
Obi-Wan crawled out of the rubble with great difficulty, each cough expelling mouthfuls of blood, staining the sand bright crimson.
His Jedi robe was in tatters, his right arm bent unnaturally—clearly broken from the earlier blow.
His lightsaber, the weapon that had accompanied him for decades, was nowhere in sight—likely buried beneath the rubble.
When he tried to stand, his knee buckled again, and he collapsed to the ground.
His trembling fingers dug into the sand, trying to prop himself up, but only grasped handfuls of bloody, scorched grit.
…
At this moment, John's Mjolnir armor emitted a strained hum under immense stress.
The dual shackles of the Force and Chaos psychic power pinned him in place—he couldn't even move his eyes.
He didn't need biometric alarms to know Obi-Wan's vitals were in the danger zone.
Inside Douglas's helmet, a layer of frost had formed. The Spartan bit his tongue to feel pain and break the supernatural hold—but couldn't even swallow.
The Spartans were powerless, unable to aid the old Jedi Master—only watch helplessly as the Dark Lord closed in.
Worse still, Vader's Chaos army was unaffected, sweeping through the final defense lines.
Main battle tanks and armored units were devoured by hellfire, barrels melting like wax;
makeshift fortifications collapsed under corrupted beasts, and soldiers' screams were silenced mid-cry;
in the sky, Vulture gunships and fighters fell one after another, bursting into orange fire-lotuses across the city.
Soon, it would be the Spartans' turn. They had no strength to help Obi-Wan.
At this moment, Obi-Wan finally raised his head.
His vision was blurry, but he could still see the horror behind Vader—Mos Eisley was "dying."
The silhouettes of burning buildings warped in the heat, like the spasms of a dying body.
He also sensed that his end was near.
His body, after that brutal clash, was on the verge of collapse—just standing was a struggle.
"You'll never find him."
The old Jedi's voice was rasped and broken, but carried a strange calm.
His bloodied lips curled into a shattered smile.
Seeing this, the Dark Lord suddenly raised his right hand, fingers forming a claw.
Obi-Wan was immediately lifted off the ground, an invisible force choking his throat.
Psychic lightning surged along the Force chain, encasing his body in a cocoon of pain.
"Then let me put it another way," Vader said coldly. "Would you prefer to become my eternal slave, or die quickly and cleanly, hmm?"
"Ugh—!!"
Obi-Wan convulsed violently under the dark red lightning, every muscle betraying his will.
Veins bulged beneath his pale skin like writhing black worms, and his bloodshot eyes looked ready to burst.
Even so, his teeth remained clenched, locking his final words in his throat.
Deep within his mind, the Jedi Master fought another, more dangerous battle.
The Force surged around him, and death loomed near.
According to Jedi texts, he should now let go of his body and merge into the light side of the Force—to become an immortal spirit, just like his master, Qui-Gon Jinn.
But as he tried to reach that state, he felt a thick resistance.
Above Mos Eisley, a vast net of Chaos energy was closing in.
It wasn't a normal Force barrier, but something far more sinister—like a spider's web waiting for the soul to depart so it could ensnare it.
Obi-Wan's limited knowledge of the Chaos Gods was irrelevant—Vader's current state was warning enough.
Those gods who empowered Vader clearly desired more than slaughter.
They craved a rarer prize—
A Jedi Master's soul. Especially one who had trained the "Chosen One."
He remembered, in his youth, when Qui-Gon's spirit had appeared beside the pyre—a warm, blue glow offering comfort.
But what he sensed now was twisted whispering—countless mouths eager to devour his soul.
And Jedi spirits were not truly eternal.
Even if he escaped his body, each moment of consciousness consumed accumulated Force energy.
Master Yoda had once confided that even Qui-Gon's spirit was fading—like footprints on sand, destined to be washed away.
The "eternity" promised to Vader by Chaos was merely a different kind of prison.
CRACK—!!
Then, psychic lightning pierced Obi-Wan's chest.
Corrupting energy ripped through his ribs, tearing open a glowing wound where his heart should be.
Through blurred vision, Obi-Wan saw the hunger in Vader's eyes—a predator craving prey willingly walking into its trap. And then, the old Jedi did something no one expected.
He stopped resisting.
Not surrender—but redirecting all will inward.
The Force ignited blue fire deep within his cells, beginning to erase himself at the molecular level.
This was not the Jedi teaching of "becoming one with the Force," but a far more final, self-willed erasure.
?!
Vader's pupils contracted.
He sensed Obi-Wan's soul dissolving—faster than sand in an hourglass.
This annihilation was more complete than death—no spirit would remain.
"No! You won't!"
The Dark Lord's roar became a shockwave. Stones and debris exploded into dust from its sheer force.
He spread his arms wide, Chaos and dark Force power surging out to completely freeze the space around Obi-Wan.
Air crystallized into pale blue shards. Time warped, and even floating dust halted midair.
Obi-Wan's self-destruction was forcibly interrupted.
His body hung like a creature trapped in amber, frozen in a state of half-dissolution.
The crack in his chest still shimmered with Force light, but it could no longer spread. Only his timeworn eyes could still move, reflecting the approaching black nightmare.
"Master…"
Vader's voice suddenly turned gentle, like whispers from the old Temple hallways.
He retracted his crimson blade, his breathing abnormally clear in the frozen air, and placed his left hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder.
It should have been a gesture of warmth between Master and apprentice—but now, it made Obi-Wan's bones groan under the pressure.
"After all these years, you're still so… stubborn."
The crystalline tips of Vader's fingers cut into Obi-Wan's shoulder, leaving glowing lines of corruption. "You'd rather vanish completely than give me the answer I want!"
As the final syllable fell, his five crystal fingers twisted and drove into Obi-Wan's chest.
There was no blood, but the wounds instantly carbonized, black veins spreading like webs beneath the skin.
Vader's eyes glowed a wicked red. He was preparing to inject corruption directly into his master's body—transforming him from the inside out.
He couldn't let Obi-Wan use self-erasure to escape.
His fingertips now embedded in Obi-Wan's chest, their crystalline nails glowing in multiple hues, the corruption flowed like living tendrils through his veins.
"If you won't speak…" Vader's voice echoed like the abyss, "then let the gods tear your mind open."
He had failed to break Obi-Wan through force or persuasion—so now he would offer his master as a sacrifice to the Chaos Gods.
He could feel the hungry gazes of the dark deities watching from the Warp.
Sacrificing a Jedi Master's soul was worth far more than slaughtering millions. Obi-Wan's memories, knowledge—especially clues about Luke—would be his bargaining chip for greater power.
BOOOOOM——————!!!
But just as Vader prepared to strike, a thunderous explosion interrupted him.
And this was no ordinary blast—it shook the entire atmosphere of Tatooine. Even the Chaos haze in the clouds was torn apart by some force beyond physics, revealing the long-lost stars above.
More importantly, the Spartans, auxiliaries, and Astartes—once frozen in place—found themselves freed by the sudden shockwave.
?!
Regaining control, John spun around. His Mjolnir armor came back online, hydraulics humming as joints unlocked. He looked toward the source of the sound.
On the northern horizon of Mos Eisley, a golden pillar of light four kilometers wide pierced the sky.
It was a purity no man-made weapon could replicate—like a fragment of a star's core crashing to earth. Lightning-like ripples danced along its edge, triggering atmospheric chain reactions—
Dozens of kilometers of sand turned to glass, reflecting countless miniature suns;
Roaming Chaos demons screamed and evaporated in the light, like fog under the noon sun;
The corrupted clouds overhead were pierced, forming a perfect circular vacuum.
Rou~——————!!!
Before John could even process what was happening, a golden streak of light howled through the air—rushing at Darth Vader with blinding speed.
VMMM~—BOOOOM—!!!
The crimson blade met the golden streak in a deafening clash, the shriek reverberating across all of Mos Eisley.
Though the golden force came suddenly, Vader still reacted in time, shifting focus from Obi-Wan and raising his scarlet blade to block.
But the sheer power sent Vader flying, just as he had flung Obi-Wan—slamming him into a ruined building.
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