Notes: Hello! Long time no see! So, you have probably been waiting for ages for the chapter, so here we go! It took a bit more than expected but here we are. Thanks for not killing me, I guess. [Edit:] AHA! YOU THOUGHT THAT DARTH VADER WASN'T GOING TO BE SHOWN AT ALL. YOU HAVE BEEN FOOLED. Now let me clear up some things. Technically Obi-wan did die, and that's what he means when he thought he died, the Force is weird, and we all know what wanky shit it can do.

If time travel is possible, why can't Obi-wan now little things from here and there, his ''soul'' is tied to the Force, so he could know about Rey? It would explain the whole little voice in the scene when Rey picked the lightsaber.

See you next time I update!

Disclaimer: This, unfortunately, does not belong to me or anyone but Disney now. Blood, gore, etc.


The Growing, The Rising, The Falling

Eyes. Scream. Saber. Pain
Eyes. Scream. Saber. Pain.
Eyes. Scream. Saber. Pain.

And around we go.

Pain. Sorrow. And re-wind.


Pain. Sorrow. Oh God, where is he?

Twin Suns. Buring brightly behind the waves of sand. He could taste the bile metallic taste of blood behind his throat. The horrific smell of blood and smoke filled his senses. Tattoine. He was on Tatooine.

Here to protect and guard. To watch over when the twin suns rose and fell. To watch over the last link to a lost family. And there were two burned chalks on the sand floor. In front of the homestead.

Skeletons, arms pulled away and reaching for an unknown.

Beru. Owen.

But . . . That isn't right. He watched over them, did he? Was he watching them? He was told . . . something. But this isn't real. Because he knows now, he remembers the temple, the Jedi still alive and breathing. The Empire would not have a chance to grow from the despair of the people.

Right?

It wasn't a dream. Yet, why was Luke crying?

He must protect the son of Skywalker no matter the cost. He would lay down his life if it came to it. He did . . . didn't he?

Why can't he remember?

He was in the Jedi Temple, but also on Tatooine, watching over the infant that would bring Hope. But he died protecting Luke. God, everything hurts.

He is protecting Luke from . . . a constant rhymic heavy breathing fills the void between his hollow mind. It is bouncing all around him, making it feel as if he was there, and-

Fire. Lava. Mustafar.

Back circling in the beginning, if this was some show in a display.

"NO! STOP THIS!" The body shown in front of him was his brother. Burned black, fingernails falling and pulled off as he failed to pull himself upwards the safety of the rocks. The screaming was back.

Younglings, and of his brother, his normally blue eyes, full of mischief and light, dark twisted and an ugly yellow. Hate, Hate, Hate, so much Hate.

"What have I done?' He tried to go forward, downwards to pull his bother out of the clutches of the fire, away from the darkness that loomed over him. If not then to drop himself in there, to die than to carry on.

But his arms and legs were chained, gravity took deep into his bones, and the smoke and the smell of burning flesh kept burning his eyes. How long has he been crying?

"STOP! STOP IT! PLEASE, PLEASE STOP IT!" Whatever entity heard him, granted him one last mercy as the screams had finally stopped. He didn't want to look. To see the burning figure of his brother. Dead or not. If his brother wasn't making any more noise, it was likely he was no longer alive. If he wasn't alive he could no longer suffer. He could no longer feel the pain he had endured for the last few minutes —or hours?— as the fire slowly and expertly pulled him apart.

If his brother had been making noise, that would mean he was alive, and where there is life there is hope.

—Luke, Skywalker, Leia, Rey, Hope

At least that's what Anakin kept telling him. Yet, whatever hope he once held had been beaten, battered, and ripped from him by the sith. There was nothing left to hope for. Even with the walls closing in with no way out he knew he couldn't give up, no matter how much he wanted to. His brother wouldn't have given up, and he couldn't—wouldn't—let his brother down. Not again. He had to finish what they came here to do. And if it was to end here, he would go out fighting.

So his eyes travel to the bottom of the bank, and his brother was gone, there now stood a menace dark figure.

Darth Vader

He clenched his jaw and tore his gaze away from the sight. And the mechanical rhymical breathing descended and filled the hollow silence. Darkness swallowed everything.


"How long has he been unresponsive?" The hall held a quiet scene, two figures whispered as another laid on the cloth machinery and wring around him.

"I'm sorry Master, but he has been unresponsive for three days now. He collapsed after successfully evacuating ship heading towards a medical station from a parasite. We do not know when he may be waking." A solemn silence followed. The figure released a weary sigh as he sat on the chair, facing the resting Master. Unmoving, and pale. The only hope was the rising chest. A second passed between them, the distance sounds of the temple behind them, and beyond that was of the busy city.

"What will the council do Master Windu?"

The Master crossed his knuckles as he stared heavily at the figure on the bed. Without flinching, he said, "We have decided to follow the procedure. Prepare him."


Kenobi," That is an impressive amount hatred and loathness, in such six letters. He almost smiled. Such act unwilling reminded him of a certain cyborg.

"Hello Darth," A mockery of the title of his new name, an offense which to all sith, and this didn't go unnoticed by him. The dark sleek reflected the fire of the lava that flowed in a theoretical way. He repeated a few prayers to his own mind, to keep himself from flinching and weeping at the sight of his padawan.

—His brother, his padawan, his responsibility, his child, why?—

"You did this, you killed me and them," He wasn't in the lava-filled world, but in the temple, clones and younglings alike dead on the floor. Jedi, his brothers dead but pointing their fingers and their faces warped into one last hateful condemnation.

"No! I did not do this! I-," He couldn't face the bodies, the dark menacing figure of pure darkness stayed silent, a judgment, condemning him. He didn't do this. But no matter how much he screamed at himself, he could still hear the screams, the darkness creeping in —

—the darkness that was not his own.

A darkness that doesn't come from within, Vader stepped forward. "Look at what you have done, Kenobi. You did this."

But he forces himself to look away, to concentrate. As a steady pressure would eventually leave him on his knees, fingers scrapping his skin, leaving red trails, and a forced screamed pasted his lips. Even if the Force here had abounded him, the darkness was creeping in, but he would not let it in. Not even as the rhymic breathing filled his ears. He blocked it, even though the hands of the dead, so cold, cold and bitter —

His chest hurt, a pressure that folded into himself, as tremors ran through his body. A vile burned his throat and he tried to convince himself that the tears were from the vomit, not of pain.

Cold. Everything here is too cold. A menacing laugh filled the pit-holes, as the rhymic breathing blocked his ears.

And a red blade surged to life, putting everything red under its sage.


"What have we learn?" The menacing figure, draped in dark robes, stood still next to the now-gone blue fires that once filled the room.

"That Kenobi is far more resourceful than we had originally thought," Taller, but less dark, Dooku waited for his punishment. But a laugh, instead of a rage, came from his Master.

"No, not only that." A wicked smile crossed his face, "That Kenobi has secrets more worth dying for,"

"And that we will kill for."


Sobs broke free. The small tremors didn't subdue, because Obi-wan now knew where he was.

The Temple, smoke and blood, and fire scorch the once peaceful halls, now tainted forever. Maybe that was the plan after all. Even so, he couldn't bear to see the bodies, pointing one last condemning towards him. Even as in the floor were too young, too still bodies. Skeletons of his brothers and sisters.

He wondered what happened to Luke. Or Leia Organa.

He should get up, protect them. But his bones are paper, and whenever he opened his eyes, a skeleton of a Jedi would stare right back.

Pathetically, he double-over and screamed.


Master Made Windu, has in all areas, never been in a situation quite like this one. He would rather never do this, but the last chance to protect one of their own could not be passed.

So he and half of the Jedi council surrounded the Master Jedi on the cot. A steady yet subtle pressure, not to harm but to give a lending hand. Obi-wan, in his state of a subconscious, let the iron clad walls crumble under their own weight.

Only two could enter his mind, to drag his hide back, so Mace can promptly chew him out. That and he is a valuable member of the Jedi Order.

"Ready are you?" Bowing he settled into the cot next to the sleeping Jedi. "Of course Master."

Master Yoda, next to the other side of the cot, only hummed.

His heartbeat slowed, the peace of the Force tenderly settled into his bones. His muscles finally giving away, and darkness overcame him.

And when he finally could see, the darkness did not fade. It's wasn't dark in nature, merely if one was closing their eyes. In this metaphorical sense, Obi-wan's mind. It is too quiet, too still.

Obi-wan is the steady hum of the Force, comforting to listen to, like that of Hyperspace. This isn't Obi-wan, because even he is humming in the dream realm. Darkness.

Obi-wan stood watching the Twin suns slowly sinking toward the desert sand hills below, painting everything in a warm gold-and-red hue.

It was a breathtaking sight that Obi-wan had witnessed many times before. From where he sat, he could see the history of the world woven into the walls of the canyon. He absently wondered what those walls might say a thousand years from now.

Taking a moment to enjoy his surroundings. There were, of course, other places he would consider more peaceful, but he couldn't deny having wanted to come here for a long time to see this one last time. Other planets he has seen, and prefer over the sand hell-hole of Tatooine. Of course, the sun hit his eyes, letting the back of his eyelids red, like the color of-

Obi-wan squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to banish the last images of his brother from his mind and replace them with something else, like why he even was where he was. Or where he was even. Taking another calming breath, Obi-wan opened his eyes, absorbing the view, letting it wash over him. He knew this place wasn't real.

It wasn't real.

But then the faint breathing of Vader could be heard if you think hard enough.

"Kenobi?"

KENOBI! Maul, half dead and half living a hell, such hate in his eyes, where is Master Jinn-

No concentrate.

The fire of the hell planet, not again, not again not again-

"Wake up!" Mace, where is mace? Why- he's dead. Dead, and burned. Without the dignity of the proper-

Rough hands shot from underneath brought him upwards into the light, and for one blissful silent moment, everything was quiet.

Until the murmuring started again.

Like small gossips from behind, always there no matter what you do.

"Kenobi, listen to me. Listen to me." A command, depending and demanding. He could do that if only go heart would stop beating into go ears-

"You're okay. Listen to my voice. Concentrate."

He listened, and his eyes cleared, the Force that abounded him came back full force, pulling at his feet. Obi-wan looked up to his savior.

Mace. No, he can't be here, where is Yoda? Oh, God Luke.

"No, Obi-wan, don't panic. Listen, you collapsed and was brought into the temple. Do you remember?" He did, remembering the darkness that seeped through his feet, balancing everything.

"Now, slowly tell me what happened. Or I swear I'll ground your ass for the next month." Its Mace, not dead and here.

"I- 'm alright. Something came from the Force, dark and menacingly. I-"

"Negotiator, where at your words? It looks like the cat got your tongue," Maul, old, armed with his staff, stood there leaning against it. Looking for his prey with a cold fire in his red eyes.

Mace though, he was not seated by his appearance instead he stood tall. The blue light of the blade seeping through the dark where Maul stood in the shadows. Tall, imposing, inspiring and untouchable. Like the good Jedi of the Old. He could see why the public feared them.

The blue blade, for the millisecond, turned red, a flash of the past. Vader-

A flash and Made a cough as the burning Temple pushes through their feet.

"What IN THE KAR-" The smoke brought his lungs coughing out, as Mace circled confused, his blade's light becoming dimmer.

"What is that?" His voice is broken and a mere whisper as the smoke cleared the way for the younglings bodies. Too many of them-

A hand clasped into his shoulder and jerking around to see his Master with such sad eyes.


Obi-wan pushed through the fog crowding his mind and became aware of several things: he wasn't lying down as one would expect to be when waking up, but instead, he seemed to be sitting up—rather uncomfortably—in a medical cot. More specifically, an infirmary. With machinery and the white-blinding all around him.

Hands, rough from war, pulled his tunic to their eyes.

"What the kark was that Kenobi?"