Luke Skywalker stares out at the sunset, seeing the twin suns of his long-lost home instead of the misty skies of Ahch-To until the wind doesn't feel so cold any more. He always wondered what the end would feel like when it came, now he knows.
The war is only just beginning, but it isn't his responsibility any more, and besides, he knows that the fate of the galaxy is in good hands.
Luke Skywalker stares out at the sunset... and lets go.
He comes round slowly, like his mind is arriving to his new location in drips.
It's hot, too hot for his robes, and he feels sunlight beating down on every inch of exposed skin. The ground beneath him is hard, but in a different way to the rocks he'd become too familiar with recently. All the same, it isn't a new sensation. Parched earth and harsh sunlight; a desert like the one he grew up in.
Luke doesn't open his eyes just yet. The guilt has slowly eased off his shoulders. He has nowhere to be now, nothing he has to do to make it feel like the universe will keep going. The sunlight cleanses him, rids him of aching joints, injuries so old he forgot they were there, finally washing away the constant pain from his lost hand. He lowers his other hand to his sides and feels the dust and sand between his fingers.
Finally, he sits up slowly and opens his eyes.
Low on the horizon are two suns, one larger, the other smaller and lower, only just peeking over the edge of the world. The colours in the sky are different to the burned oranges of the last thing he saw, lighter, filled with promise; he knows to the depths of his soul that it's sunrise now, not sunset. This isn't home, the world he never went back to, but it's a good enough imitation.
He stands up slowly, feeling sand cascade from his shoulders, and throws his robe to the ground. Beneath it are clothes he hasn't worn in years, a loose white shirt with long sleeves. The things he wore before he left this world for the first time.
For the first time, he becomes aware of a presence behind him.
The presence gets closer and a voice he never thought he'd be lucky enough to hear again says "You miss me, kid?"
Luke turns to see Han, looking exactly the same as the first time they met all those years ago, with only one major difference. The smile he wears isn't incredulous or sarcastic, it's genuine, lighting up his whole face.
"Han," he whispers.
"All the planets in the galaxy and you chose this hole?"
Luke looks at him for a long second, unable to find a response.
Han tilts his head. "What-"
Luke interrupts him, taking his hands. "I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault," Han says with a heavy sigh, smile dropping. The weight of the galaxy may have left Luke's shoulders, but there's still too much on his friend's.
He pulls his friend close and holds him tight in his arms. It takes a second, but Han relaxes in his arms, resting his chin on the top of Luke's head. Luke leans into him, never wanting to let go. It had been too long.
Finally, he leans back slightly to look up at Han. "It's up to them now."