One year later.


Anakin Skywalker found himself floating in eternal darkness.

Where was he? What had happened? Slowly, his memories came back to him, one by one.

Chancellor Palpatine revealing himself as Darth Sidious. Tempting him with the Dark Side. Saying he could still save Obi-Wan. But it was a lie; Anakin could feel it. He refused. He would never join the Dark Side.

A brutal fight, blue lightsaber against red. Sidious was winning. Swatting all of Anakin's attacks aside like annoying flies.

How could it be happening? How could Sidious be so powerful? Was the Prophecy wrong after all?

Sidious was pushing him back, effortlessly, all the way to the landing pad where his shuttle was waiting.

Did any other Jedi sense this happening? Was anyone coming to help? It didn't matter. They would never get there in time.

Sidious threw him backwards and boarded his shuttle. Its powerful engines roared into life.

Where was he going? What was he planning to do? Anakin didn't know. All he knew is that he couldn't allow it to happen.

He could do only one thing. He ignited his lightsaber and threw it with all his strength, right into the ship's central engine.

For an endless second, nothing happened. The shuttle slowly lifted off into the night sky.

Then it disappeared in blinding, earth-shattering explosion. The last thing he saw was a wall of fire coming towards him.

And then… darkness.


The darkness slowly receded and turned to light. Warm, blinding light, forcing him to shut his eyes tightly.

When he finally managed to open them, he found himself standing in a sunlit meadow. Looking around, he saw a crystal clear lake, a lush green forest, tall mountains covered in snow. The place reminded him of Naboo a bit, but it was wilder. More beautiful, too, in a strange, otherworldly way. And empty. There were no people or buildings. Just him.

So he was dead, then. That much was clear. Somehow, Anakin wasn't as surprised as he should be. In his heart, he'd always known that he would have to die to fulfill the Prophecy.

And this was… heaven? Hell? It was hard to tell just yet. Even Jedi didn't know what came after death.

His right hand felt… strange. Different. But in a good way. With surprise and delight, he realized why. His hand was back. The real one, made of flesh and bone. Anakin moved his fingers around, clenched his fist, stretched his fingers again. His mechanical hand had been a crude machine, offering only the most basic of sensations. He was able to wield his lightsaber, pilot a ship or pick up a glass without crushing it, but that was it. There was no sensation of rough and smooth, soft and hard. No warmth or cold. No pain.

He brushed his fingers against the soft blades of grass. A rock on the ground, warm from the sun. The rough fabric of his tunic. The smooth, cool hilt of his lightsaber. His face.

Wait…

He touched his face again, under his right eye. And above his eyebrow. The skin under his fingers was soft and smooth. His scar was gone.

Was this... heaven, then? It would seem so. The otherworldly beauty of this place. The way his body was whole again.

He didn't deserve to be in heaven. Not... not after… He shuddered as a wave of horrifying memories assaulted him. It had been over a year, but the memories of that day were still as vivid and clear as if it had just happened yesterday. They would always be.

A lot had happened in that year. The plot to kidnap the Chancellor had failed (but no thanks to him). It was Master Windu and his clones who stopped the five bounty hunters sent to kidnap him. And Dooku never even showed up.

It took Anakin months before he could look Ahsoka in the eyes again. She said she didn't blame him for what happened (but he could see the truth in her eyes). He wanted nothing more than leave the Order and fly as far away as he could, but he forced himself to stay (Ahsoka didn't deserve to pay for his mistakes).

She left the Order anyway, mere months later, after the Council expelled and abandoned her over a crime she didn't commit (but he knew he was a part of the reason, too).

Padme had left, too, after he had become distant and withdrawn (he didn't blame her).

The Council granted him the rank of Master after he killed Grievous (it took him several days and a chase across multiple planets, after Grievous managed to run away from him twice. Obi-Wan would have done a much better job).

But the war still continued. Dooku refused to give up so easily. One battle after another; countless of his men killed, innocents massacred, cities burned to the ground. Victories and losses, death and destruction.

Until that day when Darth Sidious made his first but fatal mistake. And then he ended up here.


Anakin spent the next few hours wandering around, exploring this strange place. It was beautiful, but… this couldn't be it, could it? This couldn't be all there was to the afterlife. There had to be something more. A door. A person. Anything.

But after hours and hours of walking, he had to admit defeat. There was nothing. Only meadows and forests and mountains, as far as the eye could see. Beautiful but empty. Stretching in all directions.

This place was not heaven, he was beginning to realize. It was hell.


The night was falling, and he was exhausted and hungry. Which was strange; it wasn't like he needed to eat or sleep anymore. But his brain was just used to these things, he supposed. And he had nothing better to do, anyway.

He managed to catch a nice large fish in the nearby lake (all you really needed was a lightsaber and a good aim), find a good spot in a forest clearing and start a fire (all you really needed was a lightsaber and some dry wood. And some rocks, so you didn't set the entire forest on fire. Which made him wonder about what would happen if he did accidentally set it on fire. He couldn't die again, right? But he wasn't exactly willing to find out).

While the fish was cooking, he built a primitive shelter out of sticks, leaves and dirt. Just like Obi-Wan had taught him many years ago, when he was his Padawan.

Obi-Wan...

Was he… was he here, too? Was that why the Force trapped Anakin here? Did he need to apologize for what he's done before he could move on?

No, he begged the Force. Please. You couldn't have picked a crueler punishment. He couldn't face Obi-Wan. Ever again. He just couldn't.

What was he even supposed to say? I'm sorry? I'm sorry I broke your hand and brutally murdered you in the most painful way I could? There were some things that were just… unforgivable. That could never be made right again.


Anakin woke up with a start, unsure of what woke him up. He looked around, one hand on his lightsaber. The forest around him was dark and silent. His fire was dead. The sky was still dark, but a strip of purple on the horizon signified the approaching dawn.

A figure was standing on the other side of the clearing. Anakin's heart stopped.

He couldn't see the figure's face, it was too dark for that, but he immediately knew who it was.

"Anakin…" Obi-Wan said quietly. His voice was exactly the same as Anakin remembered. Soft and gentle, with a hint of sadness. And something else, too.

Anakin stood up, shaking. He wanted more than anything to say something, to apologize. To see his Master's face one more time. But... he couldn't do this. He couldn't face him again. Not after what he's done. He couldn't, he couldn't, he couldn't.

Anakin turned and ran. As fast and far away as he could. He could hear Obi-Wan's voice shouting his name, and perhaps the words please, wait, but he was already too far away to be sure. He kept running, tearing blindly through the dark forest, tripping on rocks and roots and dead branches, bitter tears stinging in his eyes.


Stay tuned for the next chapter, and some more of that sweet, sweet angst.

By the way, I apologize for my English (my third language). This story really made me realize how limited my vocabulary is. Also, I can tell that some of my phrases are just not right. Sorry :)

Also, R&R!