Finally! I'm sorry I've kept you waiting, but the combination of GCSE exams (ew) and having a million different versions of this story means organising and typing have been rather slow. However, I now have a very long (yay) summer ahead of me, so I should be updating fairly regularly.

I've done the light side, so now it's time to plunge into the dark...

Enjoy, and remember – It's all George's!

Prologue

It was a world turned upside down in chaos. The sky was a malevolent brooding grey, the mountainous surface punctured by ugly streaks of burning red and yellow. The acidic air of Mustafar was distorted by heat and smoke.

In amongst this burning wasteland, the fate of the galaxy was being fought for.

Two warriors, balanced precariously on a floating platform above deadly lava; two clashing lightsabers, but only one victor. This was a duel to the death.

The duellists, two blurring masses of light and dark, streaked with ash and soot.

The light figure, his lightsaber always on the defensive, blocking every strike, parrying every blow; he didn't have the heart to strike his closest friend. His blue-grey eyes were wide in both denial and disgust at the monster he battled.

The figure cloaked in darkness, both inside and out, relished the fight. Powered by his hate, he felt free: utilising the emotions he had been ordered for so long to contain, to make him fight better, stronger, faster. The brilliant, pure azure of his lightsaber was the only indication of the Jedi he had once been.

The dark figure's face contorted in frustration, and the light figure's eyes darted wildly – they both knew this fight was going nowhere. As sparring partners for the best part of 10 years, each knew each other's fighting style so well that no progress could be made on either side. They were perfectly matched; it was clear this battle would have to be won in some other way.

Seeing a bank rising high above the lava, the light-clad figure jumped, using the Force to safely land, "It's over, Anakin. I have the high ground." His eyes pleaded for him: concede now, I don't want to kill you.

The black figure sneered at the other's weakness, seeing his words only as a challenge, "You underestimate the power of the dark side." Light side or dark side, he would always be bold.

The light figure was shaking his head now, battling against the inevitable, but one didn't need force perception to see what was coming next, "Don't try it."

Always quick to deny authority, the dark figure gave a small smirk before acting. He jumped, flew, towards his opponent, but not quite as expected – at the last second he added just a little more strength to the jump so that he sailed over his opponent's blade, aimed for his legs.

As the light figure's lightsaber hummed through empty air, the mass of dark acted swiftly and coldly, landing lightly and stabbing his sabre at his enemy's unprotected back. Blue energy exploded upwards through the light Jedi's chest, his eyes opening wide in surprise and shock. He was held frozen in time for a seemingly endless second, before the lightsaber searing through him was retracted – with it went the last of his strength.

The Jedi, Obi-Wan Kenobi, fell dead to the ground. With his life also went the last the last of Anakin Skywalker's soul, strangled and suffocated by Darth Vader. Killing was all the same, once you had the weapon, the experience: enemies, friends, the innocent, the guilty – they had all died by this lightsaber, and Vader was numb to it all.

Lord Vader looked coldly down upon the body of his friend, his mentor – his father in every way that mattered. Obi-Wan's eyes were still open, forever fixed in that look of astonishment, gazing sightlessly up at his killer. The Sith made a small noise of repulsion, and pushed the body down the crumbling slope with his foot.

Without a final comment, or even a backwards glance, Vader turned and walked away, victory singing in his veins.

It was a tragic place to die for both men – one, murdered in cold blood, the other doomed to an existence of hate and suffering, as a result of his actions here in this scarred, desolate place.

The cloaked Sith Master, cunning, deceptive and despicable, Vader's approach to him framed by the long row of clone troops on either side; plumes of erupting lava as a fiery backdrop to the scene. Vader nodded sharply without speaking, a frigid greeting of respect.

"Excellent work, my apprentice." Sidious croaked, his voice saturated with greed. Under his black cowl, only the glinting of the Sith's red and yellow irises were visible. "There are none left to oppose us – the galaxy is ours, now. Peace." The last word was breathed as though a sigh of relief, and Vader's lip curled in response: peace was an ideal, never a reality – three years at war had taught him as much.

Sidious reached a withered, spidery hand into the folds of his cloak, drawing out a lightsaber and passing it to his student, "Your new weapon, Lord Vader."

Vader turned, hiding his expression from his master as he examined the lightsaber. It was an ugly thing, all gold and chrome: decorative, but utterly useless as a practical weapon. Vader balanced the elaborate cylinder in his hand, thinking, a cruel smile on his face. The blade would be bright red as per Sith tradition, crimson like blood – it was only fitting the first blood it should taste was that of its creator, Sidious.

His mouth still bared in that vicious smile, Vader spoke, tilting his head but not giving his master the privilege of eye contact, "Foolish old man – you know nothing of the power I possess."

With Sidious distracted, Vader acted as quick as lightning: throwing the red sabre above his head, Vader twisted around, caught and ignited the blade and buried it hilt-deep in Sidious' chest.

At some point during the Clone Wars, Anakin Skywalker had been given the title 'The Hero with No Fear'. Anakin was merely a shadow now under the influence of Darth Vader, so perhaps 'The Killer with No Fear' was more apt: for in Vader's eyes there was no trace of fear or remorse as they bored into the eyes of his perishing master.

As the spark went out of Sidious' poisonous eyes, Vader deactivated the lightsaber, letting the body slump to the ground. The clones that surrounded Vader shifted uneasily, unsure what to do. One of them raised a blaster – sensing this, Vader directed his gaze at the soldier, clenching his raised fist. Gripped by the power of the dark side, the man rose struggling off the ground, choking noises coming from his throat as the breath was squeezed out of him.

"Disobedience will not be tolerated." Vader's order echoed across the platform to the clones – with an air of finality, he jettisoned the man out into the lava river; the clones all took a wary step back.

Vader turned back to look at the body of his master, sprawled on the floor, and a malicious ecstasy spread across his face, "Now, the galaxy belongs to me!"

*sobs in the corner* I'm so sorry, Obi-Wan! Seriously, I was distraught for a whole day when I wrote this :D. Join me next time for more!