Eli's mind was heavy, weighed down by the tumultuous storm of thoughts and emotions swirling inside him. The training, the long hours with Ryen, the brief respite in this strange corner of the galaxy—all of it seemed distant now. A raw sense of urgency thrummed through the air, gnawing at the edges of his thoughts like a storm just waiting to break.
It was Ryen who had first felt it, though Eli had sensed the shift in the air as well. The Force itself felt different, almost suffocating. He wasn't sure if it was his growing unease or the force of his past lives pushing against him, but something was terribly wrong. Ryen, always calm and collected, had suddenly become restless, his movements sharp and hurried as he began to pack their sparse belongings with an intensity Eli had never seen before.
Eli's eyes followed Ryen's every movement as the man hurriedly shoved items into a small bag, his hands trembling despite the calm demeanor he usually wore. Ryen was always the strong one, the stable presence Eli had come to rely on over the last three weeks, but now… now something had shaken him to the core. The urgency in Ryen's actions was unmistakable.
"Eli," Ryen's voice broke through Eli's growing haze of confusion. "We need to move. Now."
"What's going on?" Eli's throat tightened, as though a knot of unease had settled there. "Why—?"
"There's something coming," Ryen's voice was low, nearly a whisper, but it carried the weight of years of experience. "Something… dangerous."
Eli could feel it now, too. The air had grown thick, charged with a presence that was cold and unyielding, like a storm cloud bearing down on them from the heavens. The hairs on the back of Eli's neck prickled, and the familiar, subtle hum of the Force around them felt wrong. It felt… hollow, as if something was draining it, taking from it, leaving nothing but a void in its wake.
Ryen's voice snapped him from his thoughts. "Come on, Eli. We're leaving."
The urgency in his tone was enough to stir Eli into action. He grabbed his lightsaber, his fingers trembling slightly as he clipped it to his belt. He had spent so much time training with Ryen—so much time sharpening his skills and understanding the Force in a way he never had before—but the weight of his saber felt heavier than ever now.
As they moved, the silence between them stretched longer. The oppressive tension in the air was palpable, pressing down on Eli's chest like a weight he couldn't escape. He couldn't shake the feeling that something—someone—was watching them. Something powerful, something dangerous.
The stillness of the night was broken only by the sound of their footsteps in the dry grass. The two of them, moving swiftly but cautiously, weaving their way through the outpost and toward the cover of the nearby rocks. But it wasn't enough. They were exposed. And Eli knew, deep in his bones, that whatever was coming wasn't going to let them slip away.
The Force roared within him—wild and untamed—but still, he could not grasp the full extent of the danger closing in. There was something in the air… something dark, so dark that it felt like it was swallowing everything around them.
Ryen paused, turning back to Eli with a look of grim determination. "Stay close. Do not let your guard down."
Eli nodded, but a part of him felt a growing unease. He wasn't ready. He wasn't ready for whatever this was. He had barely even begun to understand what the Force truly meant. And now…
Now, it felt as if an impossible wall was looming before them—something they could not possibly escape.
Then it happened.
The ground beneath them seemed to tremble, the air growing still and suffocating. Eli's heart pounded in his chest as he whipped around, his eyes searching the darkness.
There was a sudden, unmistakable sound. A deep, mechanical rasp that seemed to fill the very air with its presence.
Breathe.
A heavy, wheezing exhale followed by an ominous intake of breath—cold, deep, and unyielding. It came from the distance, but the moment Eli heard it, he knew that it wasn't just a sound. It was a presence, something that wrapped itself around his very soul, squeezing, constricting. His body froze, his breath catching in his throat as fear, cold and sharp, curled its fingers around his heart.
Eli's hand instinctively went to his lightsaber, his fingers grazing the hilt as his body tensed. But his mind—his mind was still trying to process the danger, trying to grasp the unimaginable sense of power, the sheer weight of anger that was rushing toward them.
The sound grew louder, closer, until Eli could feel it reverberating in his bones. The presence was almost tangible now, an overwhelming dark energy that pulled the very air tight around them.
Ryen's voice was barely a whisper, though the tremor in his words was undeniable. "Sith…"
Eli's pulse quickened. He had heard of the Sith—had heard whispers of them in his fragmented memories, in the fleeting flashes of his past lives. But to see one? To feel one? That was something entirely different.
And then, emerging from the shadows, the source of the presence revealed itself.
A figure clad in sleek, black armor, dark and forbidding. The figure's towering silhouette was surrounded by an aura of malevolent power, as if the very darkness clung to him, shrouding him in an impenetrable veil of terror. His helmet was featureless, save for the cold, mechanical sheen that reflected no light, only darkness. His armor was polished, angular—like a second skin forged from the void itself.
But it was the eyes—or rather, the lack of them—that unnerved Eli the most. Behind the black visor, there was nothing but emptiness, a void that seemed to stare right through him, as though the very depths of the galaxy itself were staring back.
And then, the breathing. That unmistakable sound.
Breathe.
It was a chilling, mechanical sound, like the air being forced through a constricted, lifeless pipe, and it echoed across the space around them. The air seemed to grow colder as the figure stepped forward, each movement deliberate, slow, and unnaturally smooth, as though the very essence of the Force bent to his will.
Eli's throat tightened, and his hands began to shake, despite his attempts to steady them. The presence of this… being was overwhelming. His power, his anger—it was as if the very Force itself was bent and twisted by the figure's will. Eli could feel the rage, the cold hatred that emanated from him like an unrelenting tide, pushing against Eli's own connection to the Force.
His heart raced as his mind struggled to make sense of the figure before him. It was something familiar, something that tugged at the edges of his memories, like a dream half-remembered. The darkness was consuming everything, pulling him into its depths.
But this—this being—was more than just darkness. It was an impossible wall, one that could not be overcome.
Eli swallowed hard, his gaze locked on the Sith, unable to look away. His hands gripped his lightsaber tighter, his breath quickening. His mind raced, heart hammering in his chest.
He wasn't ready. He wasn't ready for this. He had just started training, had just begun to learn the ways of the Force, and now…
Now, an impossibly powerful wall stood before him. A being of darkness, of hate, of everything Eli feared.
But even as the terror surged within him, something else stirred. A dark thought. A spark of defiance.
He wasn't ready—but what if this was his chance? What if this was how he could become stronger, how he could truly embrace the power that was his birthright?
His lightsaber hummed to life, the blue blade casting an eerie glow over the darkened terrain. Ryen, too, ignited his saber, the green blade shimmering with the Force as it hummed in the tense silence.
Eli's breath quickened. His grip tightened around the hilt, his body trembling not just with fear, but with the raw hunger for power that had begun to consume him.
They stood there, two Jedi—one lost, one broken—facing the impossible wall of darkness that was the Sith before them.
And the silence stretched on, like a breath held, waiting for the moment to break.