He steps off the ship and strides onto the glowing red sand, the heat threatening to suffocate him. He takes in his surroundings, looking around him with a sweeping gaze. His feet are firmly planted in the sand. He exudes confidence; even on this unfamiliar planet, he knows exactly what he is doing. Wafts of warm, moist air assault his nose and make him want to gag, but he keeps his face impassive.
Mustafar. It's a planet in the Outer Rim, full of sand and heat and lava. And despair. It's nothing, meaningless, like he once was. But maybe he will be able to give this dusty, forsaken planet a name, even as he gives himself one.
She stands to his left, hovering a bit behind him. Her dark hair is pulled up in a sleek knot and her tunic is simple. He loves her, this he is sure of. Nothing else matters, except protecting her and their unborn child. He is willing to do anything for her, and so he has. For love, he has darkened his soul until he is no longer capable of loving. It is a cruel twist of fate, a twisted corollary of the cruel power of the Force.
He turns to her instinctively, as if he wants her to stand next to, and not behind, him. Although he doesn't realize it, he needs her by his side. For a moment, he forgets everything else. He feels something in his chest, something he has not felt in a long time, and he longs to embrace her. He moves towards her almost unconsciously.
And then he sees him. Obi-Wan Kenobi. Master Jedi, and his former friend. But Obi-Wan has betrayed him. Or, perhaps Anakin has betrayed himself. It does not matter anymore; betrayal is in the air, and it will only lead to despair.
Betrayal. It thunders through his veins along with the Force. She has betrayed him. No, it is impossible. But here they are. Here Obi-Wan is.
His arm moves almost of its own accord. Almost. The Force is strong, but he is stronger, and he is making his choice. He chokes her. He can almost see the power leaving his fingertips and encircling her neck.
"Anakin."
Her voice rings out loud and clear, uninhibited by the power pressing into her neck. She is not pleading or trying to change him. She has accepted that he is lost, corrupted beyond recognition, and yet she knows there is still hope for her child. For their child. She would have given up long ago if not for this child.
The sound of his name shocks him. He almost doesn't recognize it, does not see any connection from the sound that escaped her lips to the man he is. It is a name from a past that is lost to him.
He relinquishes his hold on her and she crumples to the ground, but he finds he does not care much. He has let her go for the last time. She was never his real enemy, he knows this now. His vengeance does not concern her anymore, and so she is unimportant. He is not the man she fell in love with, and he is not the man who loved her.
He turns to Obi-Wan, his once-warm eyes blazing with the heat of anger. Words hurtle through the air haphazardly, both men speaking of what they believe, but Anakin does not want to hear them, does not want to talk. He wants to fight.
Blue lightsaber meets blue; brother fighting against brother, although not for the same things. Anakin desires revenge, power, control. Obi-Wan fights for his life, and for the lives of those he has sworn to protect. They are not very different, though: Both men are fighting for what they believe to be true.
His lightsaber is not enough. He will never beat Obi-Wan that way. Anakin summons the Force easily, his rage so close to the surface that the power jumps out of him uninhibited. He strangles Obi-Wan just like he strangled Padme, but this time there is no doubt that he intends to kill.
But Obi-Wan has the Force, too, and he will not give in so easily. He fights back with a fierceness Anakin has never seen before, at least not directed at him.
Back and forth, back and forth. No one winning; no one losing. Endless rage, endless anger. An eternal struggle between good and evil. Except it is not that simple; both men believe they are fighting for good.
The Jedi are evil. The Jedi are evil. It pounds through his brain as he fights for his life. It's all about perspective. One's outlook determines all of his actions. But what if one's perspective is wrong?
Obi-Wan has taken the high ground. Anakin is seething beyond all rationality. His mind is no longer his own, but a darkened, shriveled version of what it once was. The Force is in control now. But it is not the same Force it once was; Anakin has corrupted it even as he corrupted himself.
He must not let Obi-Wan win. He must be right.
He jumps. The lightsaber slices through the air with a hum of blue. It slashes through his legs.
He falls. Dismembered and desperate, he stares into Obi-Wan's eyes. He sees anguish there. Pity. This only feeds his anger.
And then, he slides into the lava.
Burning. He is burning. Pain, agony, anguish. His consciousness, barely awake, hovers feebly above his desecrated body, almost as if he is watching this mutilation occur to someone else. He could almost believe that it isn't him this is happening to, if not for the pain. He knows he is dead, he must be dead; but then why does it hurt so bad?
Mercifully, he loses consciousness.
He awakens in a cold room. He is alive. Panic fills him. He does not want to be here, does not want to be trapped in this charred and destroyed body.
But the panic subsides as the mask is fitted over his face, its automatic breathing echoing through the room.
He is no longer Anakin. He can be more than that. He sees it clearly now. Anakin is gone; a new lord can arise.
Lust. Power. Revenge. They sound in his soul with every calculated breath his mask takes.
Behind his mask, he smiles.
Anakin Skywalker has become one with the dark side.