She's gotten stronger again.

He chuckles and takes off his mask, looking over the shattered visor with bemusement. She does so love to break his mask.

With a smile, he brings up a hand to touch the blood trailing from his nose. His head is pounding and his ears are ringing as well, the injuries caused by the sheer strength of her last mental blow.

Oh, how he has missed her. Finding her here was the most delightful of surprises. Crossing lightsabers with her, and that lightsaber of all possible ones, was an even more delightful one. Her technique had been rough of course, her lack of experience causing flaws in her defense he had barely been able to resist exploiting.

Well, he had resisted exploiting them a little.

He rolls his shoulders, savoring the sharp pain it causes to the wounds she gave him. Her technique might've been rough, but it was rough in the same way a kyber crystal is rough. Give her half a year, and he has no doubt she will have caught up to his own level.

The thought alone is enough to make him shiver with anticipation.

With a grin, he licks the blood off his glove. He watches with amusement as the action breaks the control of one of the Stormtroopers oh so studiously not looking at him, causing an involuntary physical shudder of fear and revulsion instead of just a mental one. The way the Stormtrooper snaps to attention with blind terror when he realizes what he just did makes it even funnier. Normally, he would take the opportunity to play with him.

Fortunately for the Stormtrooper, he has another toy to occupy his attention.

He looks at the unconscious prisoner he brought along. FN-2187. Finn. The Force-sensitive Stormtrooper.

He had almost missed the Stormtrooper's Force sensitivity. There had only been the barest of ripples during the battle on Jakku, so faint he almost hadn't recognized them for what they were. Almost. He had assumed that the Stormtrooper was weak in the Force, but the fact that he actually managed to escape a destroyer has shown that he is not. That had been a development as unexpected as it had been exciting. The stronger a Force-sensitive, the more fun they are to play with. He'd been looking forward to chasing him down. After giving him a decent head start, of course.

As the Force would have it, that chase was over before it even began, but he feels no regret over that.

Not when holding this Stormtrooper captive offers so many tantalizing possibilities.

Finn knows Rey. Finn cares for Rey.

Most wonderful of all, Rey cares for him as well. He chuckles.

This is going to be fun.

Five Years Ago

What is that?

I look up at the sky with confusion. I don't see anything unusual, but suddenly I'm sensing... fire.

At least, that's the closest thing I can think to compare it to. It's wild and fierce, it blazes like the brightest of stars. In a strange way, it almost seems to dance.

I am intrigued.

Focusing, I reach out and touch– a roaring inferno trying to consume everything I am and it's surprised and curious and reaching back–

I yank myself away, barely aware of falling down the ground, too focused on pulling my presence into myself as much as I can. The world becomes muted, not a trace of Force awareness left.

Yet somehow I still feel the fire, just as strong as before.

No, that isn't true. I feel it more strongly. It's spreading out. It's searching.

It's searching for me.

I have a bad feeling about this.

Ignoring the people asking me if I'm alright, I get to my feet and start running towards the docks. Unfortunately, the market I'm in, while not that big, is crowded. Little Horizon is a small farming colony in what is for all intents and purposes the middle of nowhere, and the locals are wild about their markets. This is the third one I've been to in the twelve days I've been here, and all were as crowded as this one.

I do my best to weave through the people, not bothering to apologize whenever I bump into someone. Which is happening with annoying frequency. Containing my presence like this is not fun.

I'd much rather contain my presence than be found by that fire. It's still searching for me, and I can feel it trying to grasp the edges of my presence. Containing it is apparently enough that the fire can't grab hold of me, though. Good.

I'm almost halfway to the docks when the air is filled with a sound I never expected to hear, making my head snap up.

I look up just in time to see green cannon fire blow up the communications tower.

For a single moment I'm frozen with shock, before I start racing towards the Falcon, boosting myself as much as I can because more cannon fire is raining down, destroying everything in sight–

Now isn't this interesting.

I spin around, blaster raised, but there are only people trying to escape the sudden attack, so where–

Never met another Force-user? No, you haven't. You're... self-taught?

It's the fire, it– he, he's male and human and inside my mind.

"Get out!"

A vague part of me is aware of the yell escaping me but all my focus is on throwing him out, pushing back with everything I have. I manage to get him out of my mind and imagine a wall slamming down to ensure he stays out. Somehow that works, but I can still sense him. He's examining the wall with curiosity. I shiver violently as the fire that is his presence touches it, making the edges crumble into nothing. I quickly imagine the wall becoming even thicker, no idea what I'm doing, only knowing that I have to keep him out.

I somehow feel him laugh, feel his delight and joy. He gives the wall an almost playful tap, and I barely manage to keep the entire thing from shattering, force myself to ignore the agony his attack caused, make the wall thicker, keep him out, keep him out!

How very interesting.

I run, letting the Force guide me, all my focus on keeping up the wall, and I'm leaping over people and rubble, ignoring the screams and death all around me, I just need to reach the Falcon–

I duck and cover my head without conscious thought, the building besides me blown up a split second later, the ground shaking and searing heat washing over me. Small rubble hurts my arms, while larger rubble misses me by the most minute of margins.

Try not to die before I reach you. We could have so much fun together.

That is the most terrifying thing I have ever heard.

I resume running, ignore the pounding of my head and the ringing of my ears, the horror all around me, just focus on the wall– I flinch as the fire that is his presence blazes like the sun and spreads out until it's all I can sense, playful in way that makes my panic grow even worse. It's not aimed at me though, and I'm almost at the docks–

Force instinct makes me spin around, and I've already fired my blaster before I even realize just what it is I'm shooting at.

My shot hits a Stormtrooper square in the neck, body slumping down the ground.

For a moment I can only gape, because what the kriffing hell is a Stormtrooper doing here? Multiple Stormtroopers. Their white armor sticks out like a sore thumb, and they're shooting at people, and the TIE-fighters are still blowing things up and how can this be happening, the Empire was destroyed, so how–

I shoot another Stormtrooper taking aim at me on Force instinct, the action snapping me out of my shock.

The Force really is unusually strong with you.

The happiness accompanying that statement chills me to the bone.

I run, dodging the few shots fired at me and taking out another two Stormtroopers, vaguely aware that there are less and less screams, a mockery of silence starting to descent, broken only by the whining of TIE-fighters and the roaring of other engines. I'm almost there, just a little further–

The ground in front of me explodes, making me duck and cover my head, but there's no heat or shaking ground, no rubble hitting me, so what–

"You're just a child."

The mechanical distortion almost makes the voice unrecognizable. Almost.

I spin around while raising my blaster–

That is Darth Vader.

No, it isn't. He looks like him, clad in all black and wearing a haunting mask. But the mask is a different one, and there's no distinctive breathing.

He's holding a lightsaber. He's holding a red lightsaber.

"You're a Sith." How? How is there a Sith here, how are there Stormtroopers here? The Empire was defeated, the Emperor and Darth Vader are dead, so how can this be happening?

The Sith deactivates his lightsaber, his previous surprise subsiding under bemusement. The inferno pulls back until it's no longer the only thing I can sense, but all my focus remains on the Sith.

The Sith bows with flourish.

"Kylo Ren, at your service. And who might you be, little padawan?"

There is no way in hell I'm going to give my name to a Sith.

I shoot him. He activates his lightsaber and deflects the bolts of course, but the point isn't to hurt him, it's to keep him occupied so I can resume running to the Falcon–

He snaps a hand out and his presence burns, covering every part of my skin, physical in a way I didn't know was possible. I realize with horror that I'm trapped in place, impossible to move no matter how hard I try.

And I do try, oh, how I try. I fight with everything I have, lashing out at the fire, but my struggles are useless. I can't even get my fingers to twitch.

My panic grows when the Sith chuckles and deactivates his lightsaber. He starts walking towards me, his movement slow and unhurried. Like this is nothing more than a leisurely stroll for him. Somehow that makes everything even worse.

I stop struggling and hit him with everything I have. My Force hit makes him fly off his feet and weakens his hold, and I resume my struggles to free myself, manage to take a step back–

The fire snaps back into place as he gracefully twist through the air, landing on his feet like he never left the ground at all.

The joy he radiates would've made me whimper if I could.

"That actually hurt," he says like I just gave him the most wonderful of gifts. "Now I have to know your name."

Nope, no way, not going to happen. Ever.

"Tell me," he orders with the Force, the pressure on the wall I've somehow managed to keep intact making me wince.

Wait, wince?

I realize that I can move my head again. For all the good that will do me.

The thought flies out of my head when the pressure increases further, cracking the wall and making me cry out in pain, before I grit my teeth and reinforce it. I won't let him in.

"I could just break through, you know," he mocks, but there's no frustration fuelling the words. He actually feels playful. It raises my hackles in the worst of ways.

I do what I always do when I'm scared and trapped.

I push back.

"You won't do it."

My words make his amusement grow.

"Oh? And just what makes you think I won't?" he asks while increasing the pressure, undoing all my work to strengthen it and making me cry out in pain.

That sick asshole actually takes pleasure in my reaction.

"If you were going to do it, you would've done it already," I grit out between clenched teeth, all my focus on keeping up the wall. I can't help but cry out again as he increases the pressure even further. Then it vanishes without warning, making me gasp for breath.

"You're right."

I am? I was honestly talking without thought.

"If I break through like that, I'll most likely break your mind as well. It would be such a shame to end our fun like that."

This is without a doubt the most twisted person I have ever met. Given that he's a Sith, I feel no surprise over this.

I just desperately want to get away from him.

"There are other ways to get what I want, though."

The blind terror I'd been doing a decent job of containing breaks free as he resumes coming closer. Without hesitation, I hit him with everything I have once more.

He deflects my attack with a casual flare of his presence, not even bothering to use a physical gesture. The ground behind him cracks violently as my power impacts with it.

He doesn't stop coming closer.

I try to hit him again. And again, and again, and again– my head snaps to the side, tasting blood and spots dancing across my vision. What– he redirected the energy back at me. That was my own attack punching me in the face.

I force myself to ignore the pain and return my gaze to him. Panic overwhelms all else as he halts right in front of me. He bends forward until that haunting mask is all I can see.

"You're good. I'm better."

I spit in his face. Seeing the blood splattered all across his visor makes vicious satisfaction rise.

That satisfaction is obliterated when he straightens with a laugh. He wipes a hand across his visor, the blood gathered by Force and thrown away with a casual flick of his wrist.

"You wouldn't happen to be interested in joining me, would you?"

I glare.

"I'll never join the Dark side." I fought for years not to give in to it on Jakku, and now that I'm finally free, I will not allow myself be twisted like that.

"Are you sure? We have cookies."

I can't help a hysterical laugh, unable to believe he just said that. Come to the Dark side, we have cookies.

The humor is lost as his presence blazes with shock, followed by a focus so intense it makes the wall around my mind start crumbling without him even trying.

He really was just toying with me before.

"You recognized that."

An absent part of me registers the words, but most of me can only focus on shoring up the wall. It takes everything I have to keep it from crumbling into nothing.

His next words shatter my concentration completely.

"No, I am your father."

Impossible. It can't be, except those words, the way he said them, it should be impossible except I know with every fiber of my being that it isn't.

"You're like me."

I'm barely aware that we speak at the same time, still trying to deny the impossible I know is true because he can't be like me, and he's laughing and radiating wonder and he can't be like me because, "You're a Sith." How? How can he be a Sith if he's like me? If he knows just how the Dark side twists you, then how can he be a Sith?

"Being a Jedi is boring. And really, who didn't pretend to be Darth Vader when they were little? Before he got ruined by the prequels, of course."

"I didn't." A vague part of me realizes that I've spoken, but most of me keeps struggling to comprehend what's happening, the mention of the prequels throwing my mind in even greater chaos, because he really is like me, he saw the movies, he's from my old world and how is this possible?

How can he be a Sith?

"You didn't? Well then. Let's find out who you did like to play as."

I scream, agony erasing all else and he's everywhere, burning through everything that I am, tearing me apart and he has to, "Get out, get out, get out!"

He's gone and I'm crying, pain making it impossible to think, feeling like I'm about to shatter into a thousand pieces, like my very soul is bleeding.

What did he do to me?

"Hello, Rey."

My blood turns to ice. I lift my head and open the eyes I hadn't realized I'd closed.

"So you pretended to be Luke Skywalker? And you didn't see the new movie either. Not even the trailer. You wanted to avoid any and all spoilers."

He chuckles, and it snaps my mind back into action.

"The Force really does work in mysterious–"

I hit him as hard as I can, barely aware of the agony it causes, the need to get away from him overwhelming all else. His head snaps back with a loud crack and his hold weakens, but I can't free myself because I'm already hitting him agai– I choke, fire around my throat too tight, can't breathe, I can't breathe!

"It's rude to interrupt someone before they finish talking, Rey," I absently hear him chide but I don't care, only care about breathing, spots across my vision, air, I need air!

The pressure lifts and I gasp for breath, coughing harshly and sucking in sweet, sweet air.

He chuckles.

He's a monster.

"Why thank you."

That's not a compliment.

"It really is. I've put a lot of effort into my image. It's nice to see it being appreciated."

The fog clouding my thoughts starts to lift, and I realize with horror that I didn't say any of that out loud.

He's reading my mind.

"Listening to it is more accurate. You're projecting rather strongly."

I ignore his words and try to create another wall, but I only manage a thin and flimsy layer, too raw and hurt for anything stronger no matter how hard I try. Even this weak barrier makes me whimper. It feels like I'm trying to run with broken legs.

I grit my teeth and force myself to keep up the thin layer anyway.

"You truly are exceptional."

He actually caresses the barrier, and the protection is so flimsy the caress extend to my mind beneath. I would've shivered with disgust if I could. Instead, I glare.

His amusement grows, but far worse than that is the rise of excitement.

What is he going to do to me?

"Let's play a game."

I hadn't thought it possible, but he just managed to become even more terrifying.

"If you can get past me, I'll let you go. If you can't, well. We'll cross that line when we get there."

When we get there. Not if.

The fire holding me in place vanishes. Which is how I discover that my mental wounds extend to the physical, and I fall to the ground with a strangled cry, my legs unable to support my weight.

He turns around and starts walking away. I force my body to obey me, lift my blaster and shoot him in the back.

His presence blazes like the sun, and the bolt halts right before it would've hit him, a streak of pure energy vibrating in mid-air. I stare with horror at the display of raw power that shows just how outclassed I am.

He looks over his shoulder, playful and mischievous.

"I didn't say start yet."

I shoot the frozen bolt. The resulting shockwave is far greater than expected, but it accomplishes the goal of throwing me in one direction and him in another, and I manage to soften the impact enough to prevent broken bones.

Keeping myself from crashing into the ground, I turn my landing into a roll, flowing to my feet and running away as fast I can– I choke, clawing at the fire at my throat before I realize how useless that is and yank at it with the Force–

He releases his grip.

"The goal is to get past me, not to run away from me."

I genuinely hate how he becomes more happy with everything I do.

Clenching my jaw, I turn back to face him. I force myself to take deep breaths and push down the worst of my panic. Running away is clearly not an option, and I need all my wits if I'm to have even the slightest chance of getting out of here alive.

Wiping away the last tears blurring my vision, I ensure that the flimsy barrier is still in order, before I consider my next move.

He makes no move to interrupt me, just brightens with anticipation. Sick asshole.

Alright. First things first.

"Define, getting past you."

Surprise flares, followed by a sense of him being impressed. It's enough to make me battle a wave of revulsion. Him being impressed with me it the last thing I want.

"Clever girl."

I take it back. Being sincerely complimented by him is even worse.

"We'll keep it simple."

I almost shoot him on reflex as he lifts a hand. Infuriatingly enough, it makes him chuckle. Then he drags his hand through the air with a flare of his presence, and the ground is split like he's cutting it with his lightsaber. He steps forward so he's standing on on the line.

"I won't move from this line. Get past it, and you win. You get three tries."

I examine the line. It's not that long, meaning he can't move that far. If I'm careful and play my cards right, I might just stand a sliver of a chance.

I have to stand a chance.

I have a blaster, a taser, and a knife. That's... depressingly little, but I'll have to make do.

To the right of him, there's scattered wreckage of a destroyed building. There's some wreckage on his other side, but it doesn't offer as much cover. So, the right it is.

But first.

Taking a deep breath, I reach for the Force. I do my best to ignore both the mental pain it causes, and how it makes his anticipation grow.

I shoot him. He deflects the bolt of course, but I don't stop shooting, at his head, shoulders, feet, stomach, hands, examining the way he moves the blade– I lean to the side to avoid the bolt redirected at my head without halting my shooting.

I'm forced to stop firing when he deflects the following shots back as well, quickly jumping to the side to avoid them all.

"You didn't think it would be that easy, did you?"

Of course not. I just wanted to get an idea of the range and maneuverability of his lightsaber. More specifically, I wanted to get an idea of its limits. I've succeeded in that.

On another note, who'd ever think of making a lightsaber with laser crossguards? That's just asking to hurt yourself. I'm definitely not complaining, every sliver of advantage is more than welcome. Still, it's a stupid thing to do. The fact that it looks intimidating doesn't make up for the impracticality of it.

Then again, it probably does for him. He put a lot of effort into his image after all.

"You're stalling."

Yes I am. Any sane person would when faced with a Sith.

The increase in amusement makes me check over the far too fragile barrier protecting my mind, looking for any openings.

There aren't any. He can't read my mind. I hope.

"I'm not reading your mind. That would take all the fun out of our game."

How sportive.

"You're still broadcasting your emotions, though. Very strongly, too."

I shoot him again just to vent and lean to the side as he parries it back.

Alright. How do I best go about this? The cross guards might be impractical, but he still has a frighteningly long reach. There's also the fact that he can freeze me in place whenever he wants to. Though given how sportive he's being, he probably won't do that. Probably.

"Careful, Rey."

I can't even begin to describe how horrible it is to hear him say my name.

"Wait much longer, and I'll start to become impatient."

And that's why he feels like he's watching the most entertaining show in the entire galaxy. Asshole.

He does mean it, though. If I don't move eventually, he's going to make me move.

If he does that, any chance of getting out of here alive is lost.

Alright. Let's do this.

I run towards the ruins, boosting myself as much as I can and keeping my blaster aimed on him. I start shooting him when he lifts a hand towards me.

I'm so grateful that my actions succeed in making change tactics. He activates his lightsaber and deflects the bolts back at me, but I was expecting that. While the first shots come dangerously close to hitting me, the ruins soon offer protection.

On a less advantageous note, they also mean that I can only shoot him through narrow gaps, so I add in mental punches to my assault. He deflects with casual flares of his presence. The point isn't to hurt him though, I just need to keep him occupied and prevent him from–

I yell when I'm yanked to the air without warning, didn't even sense the fire until it was already tearing at my clothes. I shoot him while yanking at the fire holding me captive, but his hold is unyielding, and he deflects every bolt I fire with careless grace.

I'm thrown flat on my back in front of him, the impact knocking all the air out of me. Before I can regain my scattered thoughts, he stabs his lightsaber into the ground right besides my head, so close I can feel the heat and distorted air, making my eyes snap to the side. My gaze snaps back up when he bends forward so the cracked visor hovers above me.

"A good first try," he says with a sincerity that makes everything so much worse. I can actually feel him grin. "Not good enough, though. I'll give you a hint. Trying to pass the line without physically crossing it is never going to work."

"So you're just changing the rules whenever you feel like it?" I snap, glaring up at him while unobtrusively reaching for my knife.

"Of course not. Where's the fun in cheating?"

He isn't lying, which is fantastic news. The only way I stand even the slightest chance of getting out of here alive is if he doesn't break his own rules.

"If you pass by me without physically crossing the line, you still win. I'm just not going to let that happen. Can't make this too easy for you after all," the sadistic asshole says like he doesn't outclass me by an absurd degree.

"How kind," I say in my most sarcastic voice, in part to vent, and in part to get him to talk again.

"I'm nice like–"

I shoot him in the balls. He actually manages to yank his lightsaber back in time to block it, but by then I'm already lunging forward between his legs– I bounce off a wall of fire and land flat on my back once more.

He actually laughs, is enjoying himself in a way that makes me see red. I'm fighting for my very life, and he thinks this is a game.

I almost lunge up so I can stab him, but rational thought returns just in time. I can't afford to waste ammo like that.

"One try left. Better make it a good one, Rey."

"Stop saying my name!" I yell, temper breaking again and almost choking on the urge to smash his teeth in.

"But it's such a pretty name, Rey," he actually has the nerve to say, and I swear I'm going to shatter that mask into a thousand pieces and cut out his tongue!

"For a padawan, you have a positively indecent amount of anger. Are you sure you don't want to join me, Rey?" he asks, using my name again on purpose, and I hate him so much. "You would make a magnificent Sith," he says like it's an actual compliment.

"I will never join the Dark side," I swear, wishing I could set him on fire with the force of my glare. It takes everything I have not to try it with the Force. Even without the absurd gap in our skills, I wouldn't be able to do that.

The temptation to try anyway is almost impossible to resist.

"I'll take that bet, Rey," he returns with a grin I can feel, and he needs to stop saying my name. "With that kind of anger, your Fall is inevitable."

The words make rational thought return, and I realize with horror that he's right. If I keep letting my emotions rule me, I'm going to Fall.

I refuse to let that happen.

Taking deep breaths, I force myself to push down my rage and hatred. I almost fail when he has the nerve to chuckle, but I manage to get myself back under a semblance control.

"You're a stubborn one, aren't you, Rey?"

I've never wished that I wasn't, but hearing him say it with genuine admiration has changed my mind.

"You're a complete asshole, aren't you, Kylo Ren?" I mimic, allowing myself to vent just the slightest bit.

I regret this indulgence when his amusement grows.

"It's one of my greatest talents," he says like this is something to be proud of. I bite back a torrent of insults. It would just amuse him further, and that would make my temper snap again.

I won't give him that satisfaction.

Taking another deep breath, I consider what to do next. Obviously, the most important thing is to get into a better position before doing anything else. The problem is, if I start to move, will he take that as the start of another attempt?

...Only one way to find out.

"Will you let me get to my feet?"

There's another flare of aggravating amusement. Sith aren't supposed to be this happy.

"Since you asked so nicely, Rey."

He really needs to stop saying my name.

I get to my feet and quickly move backwards so I'm well out of range of his lightsaber. That's one thing out of the way.

Now what?

Part of me is screaming, nothing, do nothing at all. If I don't do anything else, if I don't make another attempt, I can't lose.

If I don't make another attempt, I'm safe.

Except I know that isn't true. If I don't move, he'll make me move. Can't have any fun if your opponent refuses to play the game, after all.

I ignore the useless urge to do nothing away. After checking over the flimsy barrier to make sure there are no openings, I start planning.

Naturally, the sick asshole brightens with anticipation. Learning how to shield not just my thoughts but my emotions as well is my first priority after I get out of here.

If I get out of here.

Pushing that fatalistic thought away, I focus on survival. I come up with, and discard several plans.

He makes no move to interrupt me.

I eventually settle on a plan that I think holds the most chance of success. To no surprise whatsoever, the asshole's anticipation grows the moment I settle on a definitive course of action. It makes me hesitate against my will, but I grit my teeth and force myself to push through that.

It's now or never.

I lift my blaster and take aim at his chest, before I start boosting myself beyond my natural limits. It takes an enormous effort to make the Force pulse through my body the way I need it to. Doing this while standing still is difficult enough already even at the best of times, but in my current state, it's almost impossible to do. Almost.

There's no greater motivator than the desire to live.

I ignore his intrigue and make the pulses come faster and faster, until I'm practically vibrating in place and it becomes physically painful not to move.

I don't move and speed up the pulses even more. I keep doing it right up until I reach the point where I'm about to start causing myself physical harm, and then I move.

I race forward while shooting him and dodge the parried bolt on instinct, going almost too fast to consciously process what's happening, and then I'm slipping beneath his lightsaber and trying to stab him in the leg while shooting him point blank in the chest.

He's already bending backwards before I finish pulling the trigger, and a flare of power changes the course of the bolt to a more upwards angle, missing him completely. The same flare of power protects his leg, and the blade of my knife is shattered like I just hit a wall.

I'm already jumping straight up, grabbing my taser in the same movement and throwing it down at the angle I need while bracing myself, before I shoot the power cell with Force accuracy and the explosion throws me past the line–

A hand reaches through the blast and catches my ankle right before I succeed. He slams me down the ground, and all the air escapes me as white hot agony shatters my focus. Fire burns across my skin, trapping me in place, but I couldn't have moved even without that. All my injuries, mental and physical both, are making their presence known with excruciating intensity.

"You lose, Rey."

I glare.

"Are you going to kill me?" I basically dare. I don't want to die, the thought terrifies me as nothing else does, but I will not give him the satisfaction of begging for my life.

I can feel his grin grow, but he doesn't say anything. I can't help but grow more terrified the longer he doesn't speak.

Judging from his satisfaction, that reaction is what he was aiming for. Sick asshole.

I clench my jaw and force myself to keep quiet. Breaking the silence is what he wants me to do, and I am done playing his games. Instead, I keep glaring at him.

He chuckles.

"No, I won't kill you, Rey."

I can't help the sob that escapes me, relief overwhelming all else.

The relief doesn't last long.

"If I kill you, we won't be able to play again. I am very much looking forward to a rematch. Aren't you, Rey?"

It's unbelievable how he manages to become more of a monster with every word he says.

"I'll take that as a no."

I check over the barrier the barrier I've somehow managed to keep intact, searching for any openings. There aren't any. He's just responding to my emotions. I hope.

"You've still lost, though. That means you get a penalty."

Terror overtake all else, because what is this monster going to do to me?

He answers by moving my arm so it's spread flat across the ground, the action gentle in a way that's so much worse than if he'd been rough. He lowers his lightsaber, placing the tip right next to my wrist, so close I can feel the heat and distortion of the air.

No.

"You're going to cut off my hand? How original," I say in a hysterical voice, barely aware of what I'm saying because he's really going to do it, he's going to cut off my hand, and he's going to do it because he thinks this is funny and he is going to cut off my hand!

And I'm struggling again, desperately trying to free myself, fighting against the fire holding me in place, don't care that it's useless because he is going to cut off my hand–

"You're right."

My eyes snap up to his mask, but they're yanked back to the blade as he moves it away from my wrist but I feel no relief because he is amused and playful and mischievous.

My gaze remains locked onto his lightsaber as he lifts it high.

"Cutting off a hand is so unoriginal."

The blade comes down.

I scream.

AN: I present, the plot twist that inspired this entire story.

So, did you like it? Hate it? Were you surprised? Saw it coming a mile away? Literally any thought is more than welcome. I've been working up to this for 40k, and I won't lie, I'm nervous about whether I hit the mark I was aiming for or not. So yeah, every thought is welcome.