Peace. Such a nebulous, subjective concept. Morgan stepped back as the Emperor split into four, each copy possessing equal intent. It was, Morgan found, utterly impossible to determine which was the real man. If there was a real man.
Time slowed as his bone-blade parried each attack, finding his intuition correct. Tenebrae had actually duplicated, forgoing basic illusions to copy the soul. It was marvellous, employing control the likes of which he hadn't seen outside anyone but the Eye, and Morgan spent a timeless moment dissecting it.
Tenebrae didn't seem pleased with that, clearly. The man created a void in the Force, a black hole sucking in all that around itself, and Morgan rapidly backed away from the thing.
"You are impossible, did you know?" The Emperor said, following up his attack with another duplication. Sixteen pureblood sith moved to encircle him, Morgan slowing to let the orb catch up. "Only the dead can be so closely aligned to the Force, yet you are still alive. I will enjoy dissecting your soul, I think. It has been a long time since anyone managed to stump me so completely."
"The solace of death is not something to fear. The fact that you do, that you strain so utterly in avoidance, determines you will never rise above your mortal roots."
Morgan contemplated that that might have been the wrong thing to say, though he wasn't entirely sure why. It was true, after all.
Yet the Emperor snarled, the polite and well-spoken visage falling away. Closed the distance as Fate started unravelling, both his and Morgan's own effort in controlling it pushing it to the breaking point.
What would happen if Fate broke?
The black hole was banished as Morgan dropped down, entering a slightly lower dimension of the Force. The Emperor followed almost immediately, but Morgan had a split second where the man wasn't looking. A ring of spikes grew around his body like a halo, the memory of death engraved into each, and shot outwards the moment they had fully grown.
Tenebrae flinched away from them, which Morgan found both more and less surprising than expected, and the clones vanished. Condensed back into one, which confirmed his theory of them splitting the man's attention.
It also confirmed that the man was scared of death. Not fear like any mortal felt, and the fact Morgan didn't should mean something and yet it didn't, but something more. Something from his childhood, most likely.
A thousand years is a long time to accumulate phobias.
It confirmed what Teacher had been saying. The memory flashed clear as day, and Morgan could almost see Naga Sadow look at him through the echo of remembrance.
Naga Sadow waved his hand dismissively. "The man is too afraid of death. It cripples him, limits his options. Such raw power, yet he holds a lesser understanding of the Other than even you. He fortified his soul, even controls it to a degree, yet dares not manipulate it. He covets power yet holds no vision for when all is his. I never did understand what Ragnos saw in him."
Could the man see the future so clearly? See it like the Eye had? No. But neither was the man blind to the possibility, though neither could be true as easily as both.
Morgan hummed. The distracted nature of his mind was lesser, but still there. Something to watch out for. Regardless, Teacher had warned him about Tenebrae. About how the man was afraid of death, though the remaining information seemed somewhat out of date.
Tenebrae controlled his soul far more so than 'a degree', and fortification seemed an inadequate word for the bastion of power shielding the man's being. Yet the fear of death was there, enough so to make the Emperor flinch.
Interesting, and unlike the image Morgan remembered. His memory showed a man in superb control, a scheming mastermind who planned ten moves ahead.
Though, as The Emperor moved to engage, Morgan wondered how long it had been since someone could stand on equal footing? Their paths to power were vastly different, yes, and a millennium was a long time to develop skill, but it was just as long a time for them to rust.
Morgan inverted the seal around his soul, the one he barely used because he rarely found the need to hide. His signature vanished from the Force, making dodging the next attack easy, and he took a moment to rebuild the thing.
Then tore it down entirely, since it was based on a flawed ideal. Morgan stilled his mind, shutting down all thought but one. Patience. It did not take long for the Emperor to find him, the man employing a sonar technique that was frankly ingenious, but Morgan waited still.
Tenebrae came closer, preparing a scaled-up version of his black hole technique, and Morgan inverted the incoming attack. The potential energy was enough to bypass the man's shields, though much of it scattered before hurting him.
But, most importantly, the man's soul got the tiniest paper cut. Morgan let go of Fate as the Emperor started killing the immediate future, smiling as the man hesitated.
How long had it been since he had been wounded? Since his soul had been touched? A rictus of fury drew over Tenebrae's face, several dozen spears appearing. Old things, wooden and tipped with wrought iron.
Yet they blazed with intent, each more powerful than anything a sith Lord could manage, and Morgan skittered back. Dodged as best he could, precognition only serving him so much, and was forced to shield for three hits. The first shattered two shields, the second and third going through him. Lana's phasing technique let him avoid most of the damage, though the spears snapped back after a moment, and Morgan felt a deep stab of pain.
The Emperor's intent was corrupted. Fascinating.
Healing the wound took less than a second, Morgan's soul stitching together so cleanly it was like there'd never been a hole, and he grabbed one of the spears. Bled the intent dry, dissecting it for information.
Ah, inverse matter deconstruction. Morgan altered his own shields, stepping aside to avoid several spider-like threads. It was smart, but the man would know not to use it again unles-
The same spear was materialised, flying at his shields. Morgan was briefly stumped, trying to reach for Fate to see why, and spent a split second being confused instead of moving. The spear impacted his shields, only breaking through one of nine layers.
Tenebrae seemed confused, then annoyed, then he seemed like nothing at all. Morgan tilted his head, conceding that this mental state was not conducive to fighting. The Emperor had to be stopped, he knew that logically, but the feeling wasn't there.
Not determination or hate or fear. Just calm, and that needed a different edge. One that seemed more elusive than usual.
The Force did not fight. It could be used to do so, but it wasn't aligned to the concept properly. Morgan frowned, wondering what it would take to change that.
A cage of wooden bars clicked into place, Morgan startling out of his thoughts. The Emperor was giving him an almost disappointed look, and it struck Morgan how quickly that man's emotional state changed. Unstable?
"You are young." Tenebrae said with a sigh, a second and then third cage enclosing around the first. "The nature of your mental state and the power it grants is unfamiliar to you. Stay still now. This won't hurt. Much."
Morgan felt his soul being drained, the very essence of his being sucked through the cage, and as he summoned his will he found it sliding off the technique. Intent blazed in it more strongly than any other, which he supposed made sense.
The man had been using that skill for a millennium to keep himself alive.
Tenebrae shrugged. "Goodbye, little tourist. I hope you enjoyed our universe."
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
"This is it?" Zethix asked. Lana nodded, her face shifting slightly. He ignored it to keep his eyes on the stone. "When did it crack?"
"Shortly after it finished destroying my body, though my memory of the event is hazy."
Zethix hummed, spotting Krovos fighting further up ahead. They were pushing the Empire in, and Bundu had led an assassin team to disable the main generator. The thirty seconds of bombardment they managed to get off before the shield's backup generator finished regenerating allowed for some devastating damage.
Not enough to win, but they'd prioritized sith Lords. And it seemed Acina was slowly losing the critical number she needed to keep all her horrors under control, because reports of them rampaging inside Imperial lines had grown.
"Very well." Zethix replied, stepping back. The stone had been quarantined, but destruction was better. Lana's lightsaber flickered out, the one she'd kept in the Force. Her regular weapon had been destroyed alongside her body. Zethix turned away, nodding to the colonel. "This is taken care of. Redeploy to assist Krovos."
The woman nodded, barking at her officers. Zethix himself followed Lana's gaze, though the place was too far away for them to see. The place where Morgan had been last seen, now empty.
"He'll be fine." He said, not sure if he believed it. They'd all felt the spike of power, the sheer weight entering the deep Force, and then nothing. Both it and Mad Mouse had vanished without a trace. "You know what happens when he gets ambushed or captured."
Lana grunted. "No one is immortal, not even him. This breaks without Morgan leading the Empire."
"It would get messy." Zethix agreed. "But he and I realised early on that life is cheap. We built the Enosis to survive without either of us, and survive it will. We might not conquer Korriban, we might lose Dromund Kaas, but there are too many people involved now. It won't die."
She started moving towards the battle, Zethix joining her. Hexid and Vesta would need to be relieved soon, though the latter was keeping both Vowrawn and Ravage occupied. That woman was rather terrifying, if he did say so himself. Hexid was fighting Acina, and losing, but slowly enough it didn't really matter.
This was harder without Mad Mouse around, but Zethix had never subscribed to that belief. The idea that only the person at the top mattered. His friend was important to the Enosis, but not critical. No one was critical.
An explosion went off somewhere to his left, which he ignored, and soon enough the both of them got to the active fighting. A team of jedi Knights were battling two sith Lords, several mechu-deru were fighting alongside their droids, and two fighter planes soared overhead.
Korriban did not have an active fleet of those, unlike Dromund Kaas. But Korriban was also small enough it didn't really matter, which was another reason he was glad they had so many Force users.
With limited space, quality mattered over quantity. One of the main reasons they couldn't simply overwhelm the Empire and be done with it. They certainly had the numbers.
Less fortunate was that the soldiers on Korriban weren't quite as eager to be done with the war as those on Dromund Kaas. Probably because their families didn't live here, or because Acina was far more involved than Marr had been.
Zethix quietly thanked the gods that the Empire hadn't managed to strip the Enosis' status as sith. It made this a civil war, which by definition allows the regular Imperial mind to categorize it as just another sith struggling for power.
If either Marr or Acina had managed to convince everyone the Enosis was looking to tear down the whole Imperial structure, or worse yet, turn them into the Republic, the fighting would have been far more fierce.
And as yet another explosion went off somewhere in the not-so-far distance, accompanied by the tell-tale feeling of an artifact trap being triggered, Zethix was glad for that. If this was a war fought with fervour held in reserve, he didn't want to see one where it wasn't.
A scream of Force distracted him, a rakatan war-droid flying through the air some distance away, and Zethix focused on the here and now. Took a moment to suppress the several sith Lords making a mess of the battlefield, feeling Ravage disengage from Vesta to meet him.
And Vesta, the jedi that reminded him of Morgan if more detached, promptly took to beating Vowrawn around. The Darth was damned hard to pin down, Zethix knew that from personal experience, but the Barsen'thor did better than most.
It reminded him of the fact that the Empire was dead. The war with the Republic, the Revanite defections, now this. They had been bleeding men and equipment left and right, and now it showed. The last, desperate stronghold holding out against a universe that despised them.
Morgan had been right in pushing the issue. As usual. But it was important for the man to have his ideals questioned, poked at and dissected. It let his friend examine them more closely, let him decide if it was truly what he wanted.
How far little Mad Mouse had come.
"Feel like pushing the line forward?" Zethix asked. Lana shrugged, face shifting yet again. One of her eyes changed color, too, which was profoundly strange to look at. "For home and hearth, then. The sith took me from my family. From my tribe, even if all that remained were ashes. And I shall blame that on them too. The death of everyone I loved. It seems only fair that their home burns in turn, does it not?"
Lana shrugged again, the picture of apathy. He knew better. She was not here for revenge, no, but she did hate them. Every sith did, Zethix knew. Even if only a little, every sith despised the Order. It was why they were so eager to turn their blades on supposed allies.
"I will see the sun set on a free universe." Lana said. "And if I have to burn down a thousand years of history to do so, I shall set the blaze without hesitation or remorse."
Zethix smiled, focusing his attention on Ravage. "Then burn it shall, my friend."
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
Morgan looked at the triple-layered wooden cage, finding it impeccably created. One layer he would have destroyed without issue, two he might have broken with some effort, but three? The man would repair the first before the last was overcome.
So he didn't try. Followed his own soul instead, for the Emperor was letting that escape just fine. Now, he shouldn't technically have any control over it, being enveloped by Tenebrae's technique, but it was his. His soul, which did not belong to anyone but him.
The Emperor cut the working not a split second later, annoyance flashing, but Morgan didn't need more than that. His presence outside the cage broke free from inside the draining technique, smashing against the cage from outside as well as in. It broke, Morgan using Tenebrae's attempt to maintain it to slip away.
That cage was better than the one Marr locked him into, but a cage remained a cage. There were no flaws to take advantage of, this time, but neither was Morgan quite so blind to the Force.
He stretched out a dozen threads and wove a set of wings, the imagery helpful in shaping the intent, and his bone-blade slapped away another spear. The wings flapped, sending him up and away as a portion of the Force darkened.
Localized Force corruption. Most likely aimed to mentally break its victim. Morgan smiled. He really was learning so very much. Then the smile died, because that's how Revan had broken, wasn't it?
The Emperor let some irritation sneak past his shields, which Morgan determined to be a ploy, and the attack that follows was more wasteful than any so far. Another ploy. Fate might be at its breaking point, but his state of mind made reasoning easy.
He wasn't smarter, but so many trivial things had been wiped clean. And making the best use of the limited amount of something had been the start of his career, hadn't it?
Control over power. Even now, with practically the whole Force as his reserves, it came back to control. Tenebrae was just as powerful, since there wasn't really a set amount either of them had to adhere to while being this deep in the Force.
The same principle applied to his mental capabilities. Without those thousands of little things to weigh him down, his mind was clear. Focused and able to chart the path forward. A path that, currently, told him to create distance.
Morgan's pseudo-wings flapped and he shot backwards, an implosion detonating from Tenebrae's location. The man himself was looking at Morgan with naked hunger, which he found somewhat disturbing, and the Force rushed to fill the void.
It also dragged Morgan with it. Time slowed as his perception sped up, something he couldn't maintain long without sacrificing undue amounts of mental strength. Morgan used said time to examine, invert and deploy the same technique, blowing them both apart with more than twice the energy.
Much more than twice the energy, in fact. The Emperor shot backwards before stabilising, Morgan himself having created a small pocket of absolute zero to hide behind.
"You have an intuitive understanding of the base energy principles." Tenebrae said, eyes widening slightly in surprise. Then they narrowed, and Morgan saw that the man was actually having fun. "Fascinating. Truly fascinating. But how long before your clarity burns out, little tourist? Before it hollows out that petty shell of yours?"
Another eleven minutes, eight seconds and forty two microseconds. Morgan was more than aware of that fact. Not that he was going to tell the Emperor that, of course, nor was he going to tell the man he would need only a few weeks for his soul to properly adapt. But he would vacate and recover before his eleven minutes ran out, since this was likely to be a running battle from the start.
Ten to fifteen years, Morgan estimated. That assumed Tenebrae would keep attacking him, but the hunger in the man's eyes said he would. It would be fought in intervals, yes, but that was fine.
He had all the time in the world. Though, now that both he and the Emperor took advantage of the others' inaction, he did have a curiosity. "Did Revan really capture you, or was that a ploy? I cannot see a reason he would let you live, otherwise."
"It was and it was not." Tenebrae answered. Morgan wasn't all that surprised by the truth in his tone. Lying, for either of them, was next to useless. "He did capture me, but I knew he would. So he could not kill me, and gathered a great many Force users in one place for me to drain."
"I see. And why did you need to do that? I'm pretty sure Zakuul has plenty of volunteers if their god asked for sacrifices."
Tenebrae didn't answer, which was an answer in and of itself. Morgan surrounded himself in a dome of power, weathering the multitude of lesser attacks. The Emperor sneered. "You cannot win by being passive, little tourist."
"Unless you couldn't return home." Morgan mused, ignoring the pointless taunt. "No, you could. But you didn't want to. Not while you were weakened. Did you install a sense of loyalty that brittle, Tenebrae?"
Another snarl, then a smile. Both genuine, and Morgan wondered how annoying it must be to have such a fickle mood. The Emperor didn't answer, hand grasping lightning. A bolt appeared, growing in size and density as Morgan moved back and away.
It flooded the Force. Lightning crawling to form a web ten times the size of any previous attack, Morgan forced to block instead of dodge. His shields cracked from the intent imprinted within, and even altering his shields to specialise against it helped only marginally, before Morgan let it pass through.
Then he let it pass through his soul entirely, phasing himself into a lower plane. Except the lightning followed, raking over his soul until cracks and tears started appearing. Pain tried to flood his being, tried to hollow out his mind, but Morgan didn't really care.
Tenebrae was close, closer than he should be, and Morgan flapped his wings. Shot forward in a straight line, physics being more suggestion than fact, and his bone-blade tapered into a speartip.
Morgan condensed his intent into the point, Fate almost whimpering as he closed it off, and the Emperor moved back. Moved back too slowly, surprise flickering through his soul.
The sword-spear pierced through the man's shields and were only marginally slowed down, though enough so Tenebrae managed to angle his soul aside. The killing blow only managed to tear a strip out of the man, some tiny bits of souls venting into the Force before the Emperor sealed the wound shut.
"I'm sorry, was that supposed to be your ultimate attack?" Morgan asked, swiping left. A spear materialised to block the blow, though unlike before Morgan put proper strength behind it. Tenebrae wavered before imprinting intent into his weapon. "I was twice reborn in lightning and pain. Why would a third attempt be more successful at breaking me?"
Caution. It spread through the Emperor like a wave, something which was disadvantageous for the battle but good for the war.
A cautious Tenebrae would play it slow, which gave Morgan time. And unlike the Emperor, Morgan was still figuring out his limits. Still stretching his power.
The Emperor sighed, mood going from cautious to annoyed to resigned, and waved a hand. A tear tore open in the Force, the mechanics of long-distance transportation both fascinating and wholly alien to Morgan's senses, and a woman stepped through.
More girl than woman, though unlike Nox her body wasn't fake. Maybe twenty two? Her soul was hard to read.
The woman looked at Tenebrae with an expression of both adoration and hatred, the conflicting emotions all but splitting her soul in two, and power dominated her immediate surroundings.
She was almost as strong as Tenebrae, though even more mentally unstable. Morgan hummed. "Hello. Shouldn't you be locked away and getting brainwashed on your fathers orders?"
"I am the princess of Zakuul." Vaylin replied, her tone sickly sweet. "I do as my King-Father commands."
"Kill him, Vaylin."
The woman looked at Tenebrae, at her father, and her smile turned from sickly sweet to disturbing. "Of course, daddy."
Vaylin charged, sending a wave of power at Morgan as he grasped her Fate. The Emperor was there to block him, and Morgan hummed.
This was going rather poorly, if he did say so himself.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
Acina hissed at the colonel to move his men forward, seven thousand loyal Imperial troops obeying the order. Two hundred sith moved with them, the bulk of her more competent acolytes making up the most of it.
Caro seemed to be gone, off in the deep Force fighting gods know what, but his army hadn't exactly left with him. In fact, they seemed more determined to take the Academy than ever.
And if they lost here, they'd be pushed back all the way to the front steps. Entire brigades would get surrounded, those holding the outer line, and their already outnumbered forces would dwindle to effectively nothing.
It was over. Acina knew that, knew that even before reports of jedi Knights and Masters fighting on the side of the Enosis became common. It would no doubt damage their legitimacy when this was over, but that wasn't exactly her problem, was it?
No, now it was all about putting herself in the best possible position. To not end this with her unconditional surrender, because she had conditions. Back-up plans and retirement options.
Exile would be acceptable, though keeping her position on the Dark Council would be better. It would be an adjustment, but Acina prided herself on being a realist.
The push began, thousands of Imperial soldiers fighting against thousands more, and Acina led the charge. Fought Lana, the woman her trap had incinerated, fought Zethix, the Darth berserker no one really knew much about, then briefly skirmished with the Barsen'thor.
She'd call the Enosis traitors for allying with jedi, but there was a cold part of her that acknowledged the effectiveness. That acknowledged that the Empire was as responsible for their failure as the Enosis.
Rakatan war-droids smashed through the acolytes, supported by je'daii, and even when she managed to outmanoeuvre the enemy and deal a significant blow, another two brigades showed up. Another fifteen thousand soldiers, supported by two dozen jedi and twice that in je'daii.
Her sith Lords were dead or wounded, Ravage was on the brink of self-destruction and Vowrawn couldn't be in two places at once. Too many enemies having gathered too much momentum and too drunk on their victories to flinch at casualties.
Then the jedi Grand Master showed up, her soul blazing in the deep Force as the Barsen'thor left, and Ravage died. Outnumbered and alone, raging against oblivion like only a Dark Council member could.
Acina felt the enemy shift, Fate-visions as unusable as it had been for hours, and the Enosis stopped advancing. That didn't inspire hope. The enemy valued competence over power, something which the Empire itself should have valued long before now, so holding back when they could have crushed her wasn't to her fortune.
And it wasn't. Six Darths they had, and now all six moved in the deep Force. Krovos and Hexid engaged the few dozen remaining sith Lords, Vowrawn moving to stop them, and then the man was met by the jedi Grand Master. Her and three others she vaguely recognized as Caro's apprentices.
Acina had no time to focus on them, however, when two signatures moved to engage her too. Lana and Zethix. She was better than either of them, but not by enough. Not when they attacked as one, defended as one and seemed able to communicate without words or gestures.
And as she fought, trying to take out Lana's somewhat weakened soul first, she felt the Enosis armies continue their push. Something she could do little about, though she had her body move backwards.
She didn't have particularly fine control over it while this deep in the Force, but basic movement she could manage. The soldiers around her continued the fight, but morale was plummeting.
Especially when the sith started surrendering.
And what in the several holy relics was Caro up to?
"You might be wondering what the Emperor is up to." Zethix said, and Acina startled. "Our Emperor, not yours. You know what I meant. Well, you see, I have no clue. But it doesn't matter, and that's why the Empire failed. It relied too heavily upon the sith. And when those acolytes see certain death one way, guaranteed life in the other, all without any Lords to threaten them into obedience?"
The Empire falls. Yes, Acina was more than aware of that. Zethix, it seemed, was someone who enjoyed gloating. A poor habit for a high-ranking Enosis member, come to think of it, ye-
Acina moved left, narrowingly avoiding the not-lightsaber entering her lung. A jedi assassin appeared behind her, his body rather crude. Crude but good enough to move in the deep Force.
"Oh well." Zethix shrugged. "We tried, didn't we, Bundu?"
"I require more practice before operating at peak levels this deep in the Force."
Zethix let a grin take over his face. "Exactly. Having assassins is such a luxurious thing to have, isn't it?"
Lana appeared just behind Acina, causing the Empress to barely dodge to the side. Zethix's smile grew, and Acina felt old rage bubble through her mental shields.
Toying. They were toying with her. The assassin, Bundu, moved left as Lana did right. Acina skittered backwards, realising it was over. Truly, properly over. Two she might be able to beat, in time, but three? With an assassin that required constant vigilance?
"I surrender." She said, reining in her emotions. A sith controlled them, used them, but was never used in turn. "I'll order the army to stand down."
Zethix moved closer, and she cursed the fact that Fate was inaccessible. Cursed that fact more as his hand lashed out, quicker than anything so far, and gripped her throat. Acina blasted away from him, yet her soul refused to move.
Power filled the devaronian's soul. Poorly controlled by the standards of a Darth, but so much of it. Raw and filled with fury. The man would bleed through his reserves in minutes, even here, but as she struggled she realised all he'd need was a fraction of that.
"No." The devaronian said. Neither Lana nor Bundu intervened, which reminded her of the fact this man was the second in command of a faction that would soon rule the Empire. "That won't solve anything, will it? You'll just grow back like a cancer, over and over. The acolytes have a chance to change, but you? The old guard? I think not."
The grip tightened, Acina panicking as her airways were cut off. Something that should not matter but did, his intent overriding her own. It wasn't something she'd seen before, and fear spread through her soul. "P-please."
"Please. Now where did I hear that before?" Zethix put a hand to his chin, power pressing everything around her down and away. "Ah, yes. I think it was what my elder said, moments before the Imperial guards crushed his windpipe. What my tribe said before they were killed to the last. What I said when the Overseer pulled me from my cell, out and away into the wider galaxy without ever letting me perform the last rites of my people."
Acina only just managed the words as she spoke them. "I-I didn't order that."
"No, you didn't. But I hold you chiefly responsible for the sins of the sith, Empress. So now you die, a ruler of billions, so that the spirits of my kin, slaves and lowly miners, can hold their heads high in the beyond."
The fist closed, the pressure pressing her soul down and down and down until she felt nothing but the unbearable pain. Acina felt herself die, listening to the man who killed her offering her soul to appease his forefathers.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
Morgan slapped away Vaylin's attack as Tenebrae prepared a larger working, grasping the girl by her soul. She detonated the Force directly around herself, which was one of the more violent techniques he'd seen, but his shields didn't flicker much.
For all her power, she was young. As skilled as a Darth, though the comparison was skewed. Morgan tightened the grasp and ripped through her defenses, though her sheer power made that time-consuming.
Tenebrae hissed something in a language Morgan didn't know and he let go of the man's daughter, pushing her in the way of the prematurely released attack. She dodged out of the way, barely, and Morgan was forced to unravel the technique.
Or try to, since its surface seemed oddly perfect. More so than a technique should be able to. He dug through the illusion of perfection, which cost him a moment, and he braced as the wave of power traveled over him.
Unlike Vaylin's attack, this one was properly infused with intent. Morgan flew back some distance as the corrosive energy ate at his soul, though his regeneration was fighting the damage.
"Who is he?" Vaylin asked, sounding more confused than scared. Morgan looked at her, finding courage to be the wrong word. Apathy towards her life, perhaps, though that implied suicidal tendencies. She was almost as hard to read as her father. "What is he?"
Tenebrae looked annoyed for a second, then smiled at her. "A tourist. Someone who has been dead and yet is now alive. We are going to find out how he managed that."
"Your father is spending your life to further my defeat." Morgan informed her. Vaylin seemed unsurprised, though neither did she seem inclined to turn against him. "Very well. You have the freedom to choose your own path and all the consequences therein. Vaylin, meet Vesta."
The Barsen'thor appeared next to the girl, smashing her away as Tenebrae flicked his hand. Morgan deflected the wave of Force away, ensuring his new ally wasn't unceremoniously banished.
Their fight rapidly moved away from them, Tenebrae sending him an annoyed look. Morgan raised an eyebrow. "Are you aware your mental state and mood are rapidly fluctuating?"
His answer was another wooden spear, though this one was tipped with an obsidian shard. It looked rough, and as Morgan leaned left it went wide. The Force all but screamed when it split, traveling four dimensions lower than their own.
Morgan hummed. Without Fate this really was like fighting in reality, and more boring than Force bending techniques should probably be. Was that what he felt during a fight, now? A vague sense of having something better to do?
Because he wasn't bored. Neither was he eager, pleased or annoyed. It was just another thing to do before moving on, though what he was doing after this was somewhat unclear.
Until Tenebrae was dead, Fate wouldn't be anyone's ally. Not his, not the Emperor's, no one's. The jedi Order must be confused, but they were unlikely to assist him now. Greater than even odds they would attack, in fact.
Not that that was a problem anymore. He was probably going to need to talk with the Gra-
A piercing pain emanated from his stomach, Morgan pushing out a thousand million threads in every direction. The feedback let him avoid another stab, Tenebrae's intent foiling stealth. The fact that the man managed the first strike was nothing short of masterful.
Morgan couldn't do that. Hide, yes, but not hide and prepare an attack sufficiently powerful enough to wound someone of their strength level. Then again, stealth had never been his preferred skillset.
No, that had been healing.
The wound closed as his soul stitched together, less than a millionth of his being escaping into the Force. Then that was gathered back with infinitesimally small threads, scooping it up before it could diffuse. Morgan skipped back, and then Tenebrae appeared to lose his patience.
The Force buckled as Morgan dove deeper, about as deep as when he'd met the Eye, and managed to avoid most of the attack. Yet the Emperor followed with barely a delay, throwing power and techniques around like the man was running out of time.
Which he wasn't, not yet, but Morgan finally noticed the cracks. The fractures in the man's soul, so expertly hidden he hadn't noticed before. And probably wouldn't have had it not been for Tenebrae's constantly fluctuating mood.
Soul damage, extensive and likely caused by the influx of souls on Yavin-4. Also internal, meaning the man's regeneration only extended to the outer shell of his soul. And all of that only meant one thing. The man was running out of time.
Morgan left. Turned towards a nearby stream of souls and used it to build speed. Because if the Emperor was on a time limit, Morgan saw exactly no reason to continue. Tenebrae followed, of course, but it almost seemed that the Force simply liked Morgan better.
Small things, really. Things he would not have noticed if not for the calm. How it came to his aid slightly quicker, parted before him with slightly less resistance. Nothing that would imply real favouritism but did allow him that slightest edge.
And since his opponent was almost a thousand years old, he was going to need that edge. Tenebrae followed him with great strides, more bullying his way through the Force than following its currents, and Morgan lost himself in the dance.
Which, strangely enough, meant he found himself on Korriban again. Still in the deep Force, but far above them the sith Academy stood. Morgan took advantage of the split second Tenebrae didn't have sight of him, sending a memory to Lana. A memory based on a feeling, and though he might be wrong he probably wasn't.
"Finally going to stop running?" Tenebrae asked, his mood seemingly high. "It would be a shame if you got away. I think I would have no choice but to reclaim Korriban if you did, really."
And implied threat to the Enosis? Morgan tilted his head, happy enough for the break. He had another four minutes and eight seconds of full operation power before he was forced to slow down.
"That would be the end of you." Morgan replied, somewhat confused. The man could read Fate as well as he himself could, which was the reason neither of them had much use for it. "The distraction would allow me to strike a critical blow."
Tenebrae smiled, the expression oddly proud. "If only you had been born as one of my children. I would have taught you properly, and this whole thing could have been avoided."
"Look, a distraction." Morgan replied, blinking. Why did that seem funny? No. Why was he having fun? "I'm serious, by the way."
The Emperor looked, and to Morgan's amusement actually seemed hesitant. The Eye watched them both, seeming so very small in the distance. It didn't close the distance, didn't speak or really do much of anything.
It just watched.
"I have a possible explanation." Morgan began. If Tenebrae was in a good mood he might as well take the break. "You see, the Elders dislike you. Something about altering the balance, what with the fact you're corrupting large swathes of the Force towards the Dark. Expectations matter, and yours matters more than most."
Tenebrae shook his head. "They are parasites of horrific power, nothing more. Your association with them is vile."
"Sure." He replied, shrugging. The man actually seemed to mean it, which was hypocritical, but whatever. "Regardless, they dislike you. And, as Star has made abundantly clear, they also don't act in reality. Which is good, because one of them even coming close would probably tear apart entire starsystems."
"I do not care if those things approve of me."
Morgan shrugged. "I know, but you probably should have. You see, I met that one. I tried to have it kill Marr for me, long story, but it made its displeasure known. At first I thought it was punishment, which it certainly felt like, but no. It was advancing my transcendence. Something that would have happened regardless, though likely a great many years from now."
"So they use you to try and kill me. How noble."
"Pride." Morgan sighed. "You limit yourself to an extent that borders on foolishness and pride refuses to let you see it. But the Eye is here now, and unlike me, it has fully transcended. Kind of."
The Emperor waved his hand. "There are many paths to immortality, I'm aware. But as much as I cannot kill those things, neither can they kill me. So why should I care if it watches?"
"Because it's here. Right now. Closer than it needs to be to witness what is about to happen. It could be far beyond our viewpoint, dwelling with its fellow Elders and observing us just fine, and yet it is here."
Tenebrae hesitated, reaching for Fate, and Morgan matched the movement. Unlike before, the Emperor didn't shy away. Pushed and pushed, filling the web of the future with his intent. His meaning and power.
Morgan followed suit, unwilling to let the man achieve so much as a glimpse. Doing that would mean his confidence came back, at which point this fight really would take decades to resolve.
And he was feeling utterly unwilling to be away that long, now. It was weird how he was ever alright with being away that long.
So Fate tore, and Morgan found another facet of it behind the one they were battling over. Tenebrae seemed just as surprised as Morgan himself was, though in hindsight it made sense.
Fate was a concept used by more than just them, and the Elders would have intervened if they stood a chance at actually destroying it wholly. Probably.
Layers after layers, depth the likes of which Morgan couldn't even fathom. An almost endless ocean of it, and the more he saw the more he realised how little he actually knew. It brought a sense of wonder with it, of a promise to find a thousand new fascinating mysteries.
It also appeared that Tenebrae found the idea frustrating. The man ripped it apart further, leaving their layer of Fate as essentially useless, and it shattered into a thousand shards. Shards that each possessed a million futures, dividing further still into infinity.
Raw power flooded from the destruction, mostly aimed at Tenebrae. The Emperor deflected it up and away, and Morgan could almost feel it enter reality. An almost endless stream of power, though diffusing rapidly in the much shallower part of the Force.
They'd blown apart a Nexus point. One linked to Fate in a manner Morgan didn't yet understand, the temporary destruction of the latter shattering the former. A bond that defied his understanding, and also something he didn't have time for.
Tenebrae seemed to have found whatever he'd been looking for in the shards, and Morgan was reminded again about what Teacher had said. That Tenebrae didn't really understand the Others. Because of fear, arrogance or pride, it didn't matter.
The Eye was here for a reason, and it was not crippled by the destruction of Fate. And the Eye wished to see the original Emperor dead, though Morgan's explanation as to why had been a guess.
The Emperor summoned more power, prepared more arcane techniques, and Morgan pulled his string taut. The string he'd woven while the man was searching through Fate. It must be terrifying, suddenly being blind after a thousand years of being all but omniscient.
Terrifying enough to focus a little too much on it and not his surroundings. Tenebrae severed the thread in a moment, but Morgan had already injected a Force eating disease behind the man's shields.
A variation on his Force-eating disease he'd learned in what felt like a lifetime ago. More concentrated, properly infused with intent and resistant to being wiped out.
Tenebrae would manage it, no doubt, so Morgan flung a pair of daggers towards the man. Forced the Emperor to divide his attention, their fight having proven Morgan very much had the capability to kill the man.
And as Tenebrae balanced trying to wipe out the disease eating away at his soul with making sure Morgan didn't manage a critical strike, the Eye watched. Unblinking, unmoving but to keep distance and seemingly wholly uncaring.
One mistake. One moment where the man gave in to his fear of death, of the uncertainty of death, and it would be the end of him. Morgan had been living with the unknown since he'd arrived on Korriban, which was ironic for a self-proclaimed seer, and his increasing power hadn't really changed that. It also hadn't made him afraid of fighting without it.
The Emperor would have to choose between focusing on the disease, however long that would take, and dealing with Morgan himself. As expected, the man chose to deal with the disease.
Morgan exhaled, taking the short respite that came with Tenebrae's inattention to find the anchor to the man's body. That thread binding it to his soul, no matter that it wasn't his original. No matter that the man possessed people.
A soul bonds to a body, a body to a soul. And as Morgan inhaled again, he grew Tenebrae a body. A proper vessel from his original DNA, the echo of a strand found in the man's soul.
The disease had never been the point, though Morgan would have taken the victory.
And as much skill and power as Tenebrae possessed, his knowledge about fleshcrafting was limited. Powerful because the man was powerful, not because he was knowledgeable or skilled, but he clearly had other specialties. Other areas that piqued his interest.
The body was grown in an instant, appearing somewhere in deep space. Its location was irrelevant, and all that mattered was perfection. Something that the Emperor's soul, no matter the man's own desire, would prefer over the one he had now.
Tenebrae resisted, of course, but a little too late. A little too sloppily, and though the difference was minor it was enough. Enough for Morgan to forcefully bond the vessel to the Emperor's soul, the man's influence and power spreading through it.
And there was power. Great rivers of it, filling the body before Tenebrae could truly stop himself. Power that sparked the disease laid in its flesh, infecting the man's soul more deeply than Morgan could manage in the deep Force.
Then Tenebrae cut himself off from it, literally severing a piece of his own soul to avoid the trap, and Morgan slammed into the man. Forced his not-body against the Emperor's soul, bypassing defenses with Lana's technique.
The oblivion dagger pierced deep, a breathless gasp the immediate answer. Morgan violently rebounded, a great jagged wound appearing on his own chest, but it was worth it.
His wound was the result of intent reassuring itself over causality. The Emperor's wound was dealt by the memory of death. And if there was one thing the Emperor feared, one thing he was too scared to experiment with, it was death.
The Eye moved closer even before the man was dead, which let Morgan relax the iron grip over his mind. Over his intent, his future, his every last strand of power. It was exhausting, and his soul stopped straining as the vast amount of power he forced through it lessened.
Young. The Eye judged. Impatient. Reckless. Immature.
Morgan let the truth of himself envelop his soul, a blanket of his own memory warding off the reality-twisting gaze of the Elder. Morgan looked back at it, ignoring Tenebrae's desperate attempt to heal himself.
I did what you wanted. Morgan replied, folding his arms. He wasn't remotely up for a fight, not so soon, but neither was he the fool who had stumbled over something he should not have touched. I followed the path you set in motion. Realigned the balance, or as close as this reality will ever get.
The Eye flickered its gaze towards Tenebrae, dying a slow death. The man wasn't even attempting to flee, not that it would help. Truth. You have done me a service, Morgan of the Milky Way.
And you've accelerated my transcendence, allowing me to save billions. I'd say we're even.
You will leave reality, in time. The Eye said, as if it was preordained. Morgan rejected the offered path, less because he disagreed and more to show he could. The Eye hummed, a deep and thrumming sound. You will. All who transcend mortality do. I ask that you prepare a replacement so that this sequence does not need to play out again.
I thought you were forbidden from meddling in mortal affairs.
You are not mortal. The Eye said, smiling not so kindly. A strangely proud gesture considering it had no mouth. Will you do this, Morgan of the Milky Way?
I will look for a replacement, but if I find none suitable, I will not force someone to take my place.
The Eye thrummed. Acceptable. Goodbye, Morgan of the Milky Way. Come speak to us soon. There are many you must meet if you are to be the arbiter of your reality.
Morgan watched the Eye leave, parting the Force to sink lower still, and he turned towards Tenebrae. The man was trying to stave off death by offering it pieces of other souls, which struck Morgan as a fundamentally flawed concept.
Star joined him as Morgan watched, honestly wondering if the man would succeed. Highly unlikely, considering the Eye deemed their fight over, but better to be sure. Star curled around his soul, humming contently at the power radiating from it.
Snack? Star asked, pointing a lazy tentacle towards the Emperor. I wish to taste his memories.
You show up after the fighting is done, demand to eat something you can't kill on your own and expect me to go along with it?
Star waved a tentacle around vaguely. I have seen the memory of cats. It is a superior method of survival.
Morgan sighed, Star bubbling with glee. The Others tentacles snapped out to envelop the dying man, a semi-translucent shield blocking Star's access, and Morgan threw a dagger at it.
The Emperor dodged, which let his slowly unravelling soul come apart further, and Morgan chased the man. With his attention split three ways Tenebrae had no hope of running, no hope of overwhelming Morgan's intent, which would mean the next logical step was…
The tear in the Force appeared perfectly on time, the Emperor fleeing through it as Morgan followed. It tried to close, of course, but Star grasped the edges. Pulled it back open, which Tenebrae should have been able to contest easily enough normally, and Morgan stepped after the man. Stepped into the midst of battle.
Vesta and Vaylin were still fighting, appearing relatively evenly matched. Tenebrae demanded Vaylin to come to his side, which she did after a moment, and Vesta said something. Morgan was too busy disrupting a healing attempt that might actually succeed to pay attention.
It did stop Vaylin in her tracks, her eyes narrowing as she looked at her father. Then she looked at Morgan, and he tilted his head as she recoiled.
She'd never seen an Other before?
"He'll kill you." Vesta said, tone almost pleading. "Everything he's taken from you, everything that has been done to you on his orders, don't let him take what is left. Please."
Had she been trying to talk Vaylin down the entire time? Very jedi of her, but it wasn't the impression he had of the Barsen'thor. Tenebrae barked something at his daughter, something sounding suspiciously like a trigger command, and Morgan unravelled the not-sound.
Vaylin's eyes grew wide, as if she couldn't believe either of them had just done that, and shied away. Looking at Vesta with a confused look on her face, Morgan sighing. "She'll be your responsibility, Vesta. I can sympathize with her past, but she might be too broken to fix."
"My responsibility." Vesta agreed. Morgan contemplated divining her reasoning, divining why the Barsen'thor was so adamant, but let it go. Past trauma, a kind heart, it simply wasn't important. "Vaylin, please."
The Emperor's daughter stood aside, Tenebrae cursing at her as his power reached out. Summoning his sons, perhaps, or someone else from Zakuul. Morgan disrupted it, which wasn't that hard when the man had to keep half his mind on not dying.
Star grasped the man's soul again, another shield appearing, and Morgan broke that one too. Then another, and another, until Star's tentacles started digging into the man's soul properly.
Pain. Star whispered, humming to himself. He'd dropped the petulant child act, which Morgan was thankful for. It didn't suit a lovecraftian horror. A conquest worthy of a transcendent. The spoils are many, if you wish to partake.
All yours, buddy.
Tenebrae let out a hoarse scream as Star feasted, every moment weakening him further. Morgan disrupted what attacks could hurt his friend, the Emperor's desperation granting him power. Enough power that Morgan was forced to strain his own soul again, which wasn't ideal.
A loud snap and the shell around Tenebrae's soul broke entirely, Star making a pleased noise as he got to the 'good bits'. Morgan saw Vaylin shudder, which implied a less hardened mindset than he would have expected.
Maybe Vesta would succeed after all.
He turned after a few minutes, revelling in the sheer breath to his influence without Tenebrae there to block him. Star hastily gathered the last few strands, tugging them away for later. If there was any doubt about the Emperor showing up again, having miraculously survived, that put them to rest.
Morgan hummed, waving at Vesta and Vaylin to join him. "Let's go. I would like both of your assistance to avoid a war with the Republic and Zakuul respectively."
So much work left to do. Morgan opened a tear in the Force, stepping through to appear on Korriban. He opened his eyes as his physical body stood, the strain of moving in the deep Force and reality seeming so very little at all.
There was work to do, but for the first time since waking up in this cursed universe, he held the biggest stick.
Things were going to improve, even if he had to drag the galaxy kicking and screaming into a better future.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
Vette didn't quite suppress the grin on her face. Tried to, but simply couldn't. The worry was there, but honestly it was getting less and less as time went on.
"And then the Academy exploded." Lana said, sounding dead tired. "We've been dealing with the survivors for three days now, and they just keep trying to make deals. We haven't heard anything from Morgan yet, but Fate is still inaccessible."
"But you can feel him, right? You said so."
Lana hesitated. "I can. Sort of. No one is getting a particularly clear picture, and going that deep into the Force isn't something we have time to prepare for. The fact there is something going on implies he's still fighting, but there's too much power."
"And Morgan isn't that strong." Vette finished, nodding. "He probably became a god. Does that make me a goddess? I think that makes me a goddess."
Her sort of friend sighed. "It doesn't work like that, not even for Morgan. And if it did, we know what he's like when tranquility takes over. And if that never stops…"
All very true points. Yet Vette wasn't worried, not about him. About her ongoing war with the criminal underworld, yes, but not Morgan.
"Lucky thing he built the Enosis to function without him, then." She replied. "How long until you lot take over the Empire fully? I don't need-need those smugglers, but honestly I kind of need the smugglers."
Lana's eyes flickered down, probably looking at a datapad. She spoke after a moment. "Another few weeks. Dromund Kaas quieted down after our victory on Korriban was transmitted, so our supply line should stabilize quickly. Making sure the jedi don't do something stupid with our common enemy gone is another matter entirely."
Vette understood that sentiment all too well. Ruling the criminal underworld was essentially playing people against each other so they didn't unite, especially so when both sides answered to the same person. A common enemy was good to focus them, something which rarely lasted longer than the enemy's death.
"I know the feeling." Vette replied. "In fact, I think we might be able to-"
Morgan materialised next to her. Literally appeared from thin air, looking exactly the same as he always did. His eyes swept the room, a habit she'd seen him develop over time, before landing on her. He smiled, his eyes dead tired even as he positively radiated strength.
She glomped onto his shoulder, hanging off him as he returned the hug. Her enhanced body complained slightly as he tightened the embrace, and though he could kill her with ease the gesture didn't generate fear.
He half turned to the long-distance call, Lana blinking at him. "Morgan? When did yo-"
"Is there anything that requires my immediate attention?"
Lana paused, posture shifting as she took in his exhaustion. "No. We've got it."
"Then I'm using up some vacation days. A few days at most. We won, I'll see you Monday."
The holo shut off, which was strange because he'd just looked at it, and she grinned up at him. He spoke before she could. "Do you need help with your conquest? My modest ability with the Force has risen to a slightly less modest level."
"No." Could she use help? Sure. But need it? "No I don't think I do."
Morgan let himself fall backwards on her very comfortable and very expensive couch. "Good. Then I'm going to take the nap to end all naps, and then I'm helping anyway. Also, I can more or less teleport large distances now. Also also, I won and the Eye called me the arbiter of my reality. Whatever that means."
With that he closed his eyes, falling asleep the moment he did. Vette shook her head and pulled out a blanket, which he didn't need but naps required, then got back to work as her favorite godling slept on her furniture.
Honestly, few things compared to someone loving you and being loved in return.
But she supposed galactic conquest came in as a close second.
Afterword
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