Rey's supply run with the secret side trip to meet Kylo goes badly from the start. The procurement orders have been misplaced and nothing is ready when Rey arrives for the warehouse pickup. She wastes half a day waiting for the order to be assembled and loaded. Then, there are issues with the credit transfer. When that gets horribly mangled, Rey resorts to a Jedi mindtrick to sort it out. All she wants to do is pick up her stuff and pay for it, but suddenly that has become needlessly hard. The only silver lining is that she can truthfully contact Rose and Finn to tell them she will be late getting back and not to worry.

To add to Rey's frustrations, the hyperspace lanes through the Mid Rim are especially congested and heavy space traffic slows things down. All in all, the series of snafus puts Rey a full day behind. Unfortunately, the pokey shuttle is too slow to make up the travel time. As a result, Rey misses her arrival to Kylo on the appointed date. And since she has no way to contact him, Kylo probably figures she has stood him up.

Great . . . just great. As if this trip wasn't risky enough, now she has pissed off Kylo in advance of her arrival. That's if he's even still there when she shows up at the rendezvous coordinates.

Rey's trepidation mounts. She considers blowing Kylo off entirely by returning to Dantooine with her supplies. But she thinks better of it, judging that move too risky since Kylo likely already knows where the base is located. Then, the insidious thought occurs that she could blow off both Kylo and the Resistance and simply disappear with the shuttle and the supplies. She could run away from her problems and hide from the political and Force conflicts she feels so uncertain about. It's a tempting thought. But Rey remembers that Finn braved Starkiller Base to rescue her. She will not repay that brave loyalty with a cold, cowardly betrayal. And so, resigned Rey punches the coordinates Kylo sent her into the shuttle's navicomputer. She hopes for the best.

When hours later the shuttle drops out of hyperspace, Rey finds herself staring at a small red-orange planet surrounded by a giant security shield. Rey has heard of planetary shields but she's never seen the tech in person. It's amazing.

"Wow." The word involuntarily escapes as Rey pilots the shuttle to approach the mammoth shieldgate. This is the only entrance on and off the planet. It is guarded by not one, but two, star destroyers. That's a lot of firepower, Rey thinks. But maybe that's the sort of security involved when Emperor Ren is in residence. She's hoping that show of force means Kylo is still here.

Flying a stolen First Order shuttle to meet Kylo Ren turns out to be a good ruse. The security guys assume that Rey is a legitimate military pilot flying an ordinary personnel transport. In the confusion of what happened on Snoke's ship, no one apparently reported this ship stolen. Or maybe, it was assumed destroyed. But for whatever reason, the security officers on the shieldgate recognize the shuttle and hail the ship with its official First Order operating number and call sign. After some preliminary colloquy in which Rey says as little as possible, she is granted admittance.

"Shuttle Tydirium, you are cleared for entry. Proceed through the gate and follow the fighter escorts to the landing platform."

Sure enough, just inside the shieldgate await two standard TIEs that immediately assume sentry positions on either side her shuttle.

"You're late," the lead TIE pilot tells Rey over the open com channel. "We were expecting you yesterday."

"I was delayed," Rey is deliberately vague.

"Have you got the cargo?"

"Cargo?" Rey is confused.

"The girl. The sister."

Oh. Right. Rey plays along. "Affirmative." Then she can't help but ask, "What is this place?"

"Mustafar. We're a restricted system going back to the days of the old Empire." The lead pilot says this somewhat proudly.

Rey peers out her window at the boiling red surface below. "That looks like lava."

"It is. That lava is why you are flying with us. Overshoot this landing platform and you don't crash, you melt. There was a Separatist mining colony here years ago. But that's long gone. It's just the castle now."

Castle? "Why all the security?" Rey is curious.

"He's here with his posse. Normally, it's just a cruiser and the shieldgate when he's gone. We're pretty much forgotten here. We don't get any tourists. No one comes to Mustafar accidentally."

Another voice chimes in now. It must be the other sentry TIE pilot. "If I'm ever Emperor of the galaxy, you can bet I'm living someplace better than this fiery shithole."

"He lives here?" Rey asks. She's intrigued.

"Affirmative. Can't imagine why. Look sharp as we descend. We need to skirt that yellow cloud at 2 o'clock. It's superheated poisonous gas that will fry your shields and cook your lungs."

Yikes. "Okay. Got it."

"Follow our lead and do not deviate from your current course."

"Roger that." As the shuttle skims the lava fields, up ahead looms a large, black building with twin towers jutting up high from the surface. It is a dramatic sight perched atop a dammed river of molten rock. "Wow," Rey breathes out. The impressive building resembles a giant dark bird of prey come home to roost. If Hell has a headquarters, this must be it, she thinks. Rey can't tear her eyes away. "Is that the castle?"

"That's it. Home sweet home for Kylo Ren. Normally, I'd let you buzz by for another good look but we have maximum security protocols in effect when he's here. You get through the gate and you land. Sorry, no exceptions."

"It has a lava waterfall. That's so cool," Rey marvels.

"Not cool. Hot. Everything here is hot. The landing pad is behind in the back. Watch yourself because it's full right now. Bump one of his guys' ships and you'll be lucky if you just get demoted. They don't have rules like us, Pilot. They answer only to him."

"Got it. Thanks."

"Stay with the ship. No one in the castle but staff and invited guests. Those guys in red don't mess around."

"Understood."

Rey settles the shuttle down in the midst of a group of slick looking TIE Silencers that probably make point nine past lightspeed. The mechanic in Rey wishes she could get a better look at those ships, but now is not the time. She inhales a shaky breath and summons all the Jakku bravado she can muster. Then nervous Rey strides with false confidence down the shuttle ramp.

Exiting the shuttle feels like walking into a blast furnace. The castle and adjacent landing pad are surrounded by lava fields that make a strange hissing and popping noise as the molten rock undulates by in various states of cooling. The air is thick with an acrid, sulfurous stench that makes her eyes water. Mustafar looks, feels, smells, and sounds like no other place. It is sensory overload for her body.

But as jarring as her arrival is, nothing can compare to the feel of Mustafar in the Force. For this place feels Dark, oh so Dark. Not pulsating, angry, lusting, violent Dark. This Darkness is more layered and complex, full of nuances and settled-in maturity. Mostly, it feels resigned. Like things have gone wrong but it's too late to change them. Like this was the culmination of a series of conscious decisions, but it still feels like an accident. Because this path was never chosen. Not really. Not in the way everyone thinks. And so, this Darkness is determined but somehow hopeless too. There is a weary sense of futility here. Of going through the motions because what else can you do? And there is sadness. Much sadness. All in all, it feels like a veil of regret descends upon Rey's mind as she slowly walks down the shuttle ramp.

Is Kylo even here? Rey concentrates. She thinks she recognizes Kylo's Force imprint, but she can't be certain. For the depression of this place is overwhelming. It clouds her mental vision. Dulls it. She tries hard to concentrate but this place makes her mind languid and soft. Whatever this place is, whatever it means to Kylo, the danger here is not from without, it is from within. From self-doubt. From self-loathing. From persistent, soul-crushing misery.

The cave that is strong with the Dark Side at the bottom of Luke's island feels nothing like this world. The cave coexists with the rest of the island. It feels violent, competitive, determined, and indifferent to suffering, like nature itself can be. That Darkness might be unfair, but it is impersonal, too. Mustafar is something altogether different. It is very personal. Filled with blame and shame. And, unlike the cave, this place does not call to her. There is no lure in this Darkness. All Rey feels is a sense of defeat. It awakes pity in her, not fear. Instinctively, Rey knows that whatever happened here to leave such a wound in the Force, it was tragic for all involved.

Opening her mind so fully to this place might have been a mistake. For now, Rey must fight to keep her equilibrium. The pain of this place is just so pervasive. Is this what it means to be consumed by Darkness? That after all the foes are vanquished and the power is won, then the Darkness turns on its host? That once the destruction of others is complete, it's time to destroy yourself? Hate leads to suffering, as the old Jedi maxim goes. On the Dark Side, that suffering is not just for others, it is also ultimately for yourself.

Mustafar is the opposite of Ahch-To, Rey understands immediately. There is no balance in the Force here. This is a place of extremes. Where lines are drawn and sides are chosen and consequences delivered. If there ever was a place devoid of Light, this is it. And so, as Rey rallies her focus, she feels very much an interloper. It heightens her nervousness.

She is met by a wizened and stooped man wearing flowing black robes that remind Rey of the old Emperor. The man is very old with strong, almost leonine features and bright, sharp eyes. He definitely looks like he belongs here, Rey thinks to herself.

"Welcome to Mustafar Castle," the man greets her in a somewhat hoarse tone. "You are Lady Rey, I presume?"

"Yes. I'm Rey."

The old man's eyes sweep over her secondhand culottes, boots, and tunic. They are neutral in color, deliberately chosen to be nondescript so as to be forgettable. In her current line of work recruiting rebels, Rey wants to avoid attracting attention. Rey wears her hair down. These days, it's useful to obscure her face. But it is also a messy, casual look. Altogether, Rey's current appearance is a far cry from her few weeks spent masquerading as Kylo Ren's fancy, uptight sister. No doubt, she does not appear as advertised. It makes Rey uncharacteristically self-conscious.

But if the man is taken aback, he does not show it. Instead, he smiles a bit. "Very good. I am called Vanee. I am the castle caretaker. May I take your bag?" he offers.

Rey now shifts her grip on her knapsack that is brimming with Luke Skywalker's stolen Jedi books. Rey drapes the bag across her body to bounce on her left hip. She places a protective hand over the book spines that peep out. Some are conspicuously marked with the Old Republic Jedi insignia. "Thank you. I can carry it myself," she declines. Rey strives to sound as polite as possible. But there's no way she's relinquishing the books to anyone.

Vanee does not object. His sharp eyes leave the books to linger thoughtfully on Luke Skywalker's lightsaber that Rey firmly grips in her right hand. He clearly recognizes what it is. This time, the old man raises an objection. "It is not customary for guests to greet the Master while armed," Vanee tells her diplomatically. "It could give the wrong impression." He reaches out a gnarled old hand palm up in a silent request.

Rey meets his eyes steadily. "If he has a sword, then I get a sword," she replies testily. She's taking an awful risk coming here as it is. She refuses to arrive defenseless. Plus, everything about this strange world makes her feel jumpy and on edge. Just having the weapon in her hand is a bit comforting.

Rey and the caretaker stare down one another in silence a long moment. Then, the old man backs down. "Very well, my lady. This way, please." Vanee beckons her to accompany him inside. The old caretaker moves slowly with a cane. Rey falls into step beside him.

"The Master was expecting you yesterday," Vanee says in his gravelly voice that is as unhurried as his stately pace.

"I was delayed."

"He will be surprised and pleased to see you. He is in with the others now."

Looking around the landing platform as they make slow progress towards the castle entrance, Rey catches sight of a number of stormtroopers standing guard. If she has to make a run for it, it will be hard. As finally they approach the entrance, Rey sees two red armored guards flanking the door. She can't help but feel uneasy as she remembers the desperate fight in Snoke's throne room against their brethren. "Praetorians," Rey groans under her breath. With them here, making a run for it could be near impossible.

She is overheard. The caretaker nods. "Those men are the modern-day equivalent of the Imperial guards we once had here. They are fierce, my lady. Although, the Master tells me they are no deterrent to you." Vanee glances her way and Rey could swear the wizened old crone winks at her. But Vanee says nothing as he gestures her genially through the threshold.

Once they are out of earshot of the guards, old Vanee speaks again. "This castle is a place of refuge. It has long been a place of healing and retreat. No one will harm you here. The Master will not allow it."

Nervous Rey nods at this reassurance, but she's unconvinced. Because she knows that the real risk is not the dozen or so stormtroopers outside and the pair of praetorians at the door. The real risk is Kylo Ren himself. Kylo killed his father who sought reconciliation and cried his eyes out at the death of his enemy general mother. He killed his Master to steal his Empire and offered to share that power with her. Kylo Ren is a conflicted man given to wide ranging impulses. He is dangerously unpredictable.

"The Master will want to be interrupted to greet you," Vanee decides. "Follow me."

Rey dutifully complies. Again, their slow pace gives her plenty of time to look her fill as they process through a series of hallways and rooms. Everywhere there are floor to ceiling windows that make the castle's dramatic exterior the focal point. By contrast, the interior furnishings are unremarkable and soothing in color, shape, and texture. The living areas Rey sees are all intimate. Nothing is grand in scale or in decor. Everywhere is the monochromatic look of quiet, lived-in luxury.

"It's beautiful here." Beautiful and serene, Rey realizes. The elegant castle interior feels safe and detached from the violent natural danger that surrounds it. This is an oddly peaceful place, Rey perceives as they plod along. Rey is starting to appreciate why Vanee describes it as a refuge. Because for a castle in the middle of a volcanic Hell, it's strangely homey.

The caretaker fairly glows at Rey's praise of the castle. "Very little has changed through the years. The Master made only slight modifications to Lord Vader's home."

"This was Darth Vader's home?" Rey reacts with surprise.

"Yes. Did you not know?" Vanee gives her another patient smile.

"This is his grandfather's castle," Rey surmises aloud. "That makes sense. That makes a lot of sense . . . Of course, he lives here."

"My old Master would be very proud of his grandson," Vanee nods. "We are all so proud of the Master."

Finally, they reach a closed set of double doors. Vanee keys in a code and the doors recede as they slide open to reveal a large room. The room is dominated by a rectangular conference table in high gloss black. Around the table are seated a group of six men. Their heads turn in unison to consider the newcomer Rey.

But she ignores them. Her attention is solely for Kylo Ren who sits at the far end of the room at the head of the table. He's staring at her with an intense, but inscrutable face. What is he thinking? Rey can't tell. But he's not welcoming in the least.

"Go on in, my dear," Vanee murmurs softly from beside her. "They are waiting for you."

With a deep breath and her thumb poised to activate her sword, Rey steps forward into the room and the doors immediately slide shut. This is the cue to plant her feet and stand her ground for a classic Jakku stare down. The prelude to the confrontation can sometimes avert the confrontation, Rey knows. But, at the very least, it sets the 'don't fuck with me' tone that her scavenger self cultivates. Rey of Jakku does not go looking for a fight, but she can hold her own with Unkar Plutt, with Kylo Ren, and with these guys too, if necessary.

But all of that usual bluster deserts her in the moment. She shifts her weight from side to side. "B-Ben?" The wrong name stutters and slips off her lips. Rey is flustered and that's unlike her. She colors at the eyebrows that raise around the table at her use of Kylo's given name. It's a big reveal about their relationship. It's also a huge power bleed in the moment.

"Rey," Kylo answers as he jumps to his feet at the far end of the room. "You came. I didn't think you would—"

"I got delayed," she interrupts. "I'm sorry. Please don't be angry." Rey cringes at how fast and nervous these words come out. How placating she sounds. Kylo's eyes are boring into her but Rey keeps glancing around the table at his assembled men. She is very aware of their audience.

The men appraise Rey silently as she does the same. Even seated, they are an intimidating bunch. Some look to be around Kylo's age, but others are clearly older. All look intelligent and conspicuously dangerous. While they wear the same high necked black vicar's robe uniform Kylo favors, these men do not look like regular First Order military officers. None of the officers she saw on the Finalizer sported a tattoo down the side of their neck or an earring. None of General Hux's male subordinates had long hair worn half tied back in a bun. And none of the First Order men she has seen wear crystals around their necks like she remembers Luke Skywalker wearing. Whoever these men are, they-like Kylo-appear far too individual for the fascist conformity of the First Order.

Gazing around, Rey realizes that she has seen these six men before. Not in person and not dressed like this. She saw them helmeted and armed standing in the rain at Kylo's side amidst a field of bodies. It had been perhaps the most terrifying part of her vision at Maz's tavern. The blue Skywalker saber that had called to her had shown her these men. They must be important. And right now, they seem threatening.

Rey takes a step back.

"It's alright," Kylo says softly. "I'm not angry."

Does Kylo think she's reacting to him? She's not. It's on the tip of her tongue to ask Kylo if they can speak alone when the beefy, thick-necked, square-jawed man at Kylo's right speaks up. "That's Skywalker's sword."

Rey has forgotten that she's still holding a lightsaber in her hand. Reflexively, she shifts her grip on the hilt.

"Where did you get the sword?" the man on Kylo's right demands in a quiet voice as he too stands to his feet. The atmosphere in the room shifts perceptively. Her audience's curiosity gives way to wariness. It pricks Rey's sense of danger further.

Kylo inserts himself. "That lightsaber belongs to me. Rey is bringing it to me."

The Hell she is. It irks Rey how Kylo feels entitled to take whatever he wants, whether it's the galaxy or her sword. She lifts her chin and postures, "It's my sword now." The island caretakers gave it to her. That has to count for something.

"That sword took down the Empire!" Another man stands to his feet. "That sword killed Lord Vader!" he accuses gruffly. "It almost killed some of us too." The chorus of nods that follows unnerves Rey further.

"Where did you get the sword?" the man on Kylo's right demands again.

"She stole it," Kylo smirks. "She's always stealing my family heirlooms. She steals my family too."

"I didn't steal it," Rey retorts. "I'm a scavenger. I pick useful things from dead people and old places. I scavenged the sword from Skywalker's hiding place. It's mine now."

Kylo begs to differ. "All the relics of the Force belong to me. You will surrender the sword and the books to me, Rey," he commands.

Rey puts her left hand protectively on her knapsack as she shakes her head no. "I shouldn't have come. I knew not to come," she speaks her regret aloud.

And now, Kylo outstretches his right hand. Rey feels him tug at the sword with the Force. Annoyed, she grimaces and clamps down hard. Because are they doing this sword tug-of-war thing again? That didn't end well last time. "It's mine, Kylo." Rey flashes a defiant look as her thumb twitches to activate the lightsaber to underscore her words. "You'll have to come and get it."

At the snap-hiss that heralds the green blade, the remaining men in the room now shoot to their feet. Kylo instantly takes over, raising a hand to forestall his men. "Turn it off," he orders to Rey. When she hesitates, Kylo again repeats his command. It comes out a roar this time. "Turn it off!" He glares across the room at her. "You're not here to fight. I called you here to talk."

Uneasy Rey keeps the blade lit. "Then talk."

"Turn it off!" he repeats again. "If I wanted a fight, I would have come to you and the rest of your terrorist rebel friends. I will not fight you," he spits out his words. "This holy place is neutral ground. You will respect that!" he orders. "Now, turn it off!"

"Afraid I'll kick your ass again?" Rey jeers. She has found her swagger now. Maybe that's foolhardy in the circumstances, but it feels good. "Go ahead, Kylo. Talk. I'm listening."

"No, you're not. No one ever listens once there's a lit sword in their hands." Kylo holds her gaze steadily and calmly repeats, "I called you here to talk. I will not fight you. Back down."

I will not fight you . . . I will not fight you . . .

Kylo's words echo through her mind. Rey deactivates her sword and drops it reflexively. She doesn't know why. She peers down at the saber on the floor and then across at Kylo. Did he do that? For it felt less like she threw the sword down and more like it was pulled from her hand. Scared now to feel defenseless, Rey reaches to reclaim the weapon with the Force, but it stubbornly resists her call. Rey flexes her grip and tries unsuccessfully again. Then she looks to Kylo in dismay. Is he doing this?

If he is, he doesn't show it. Kylo approves of her throw down move. He nods at her. "Fighting is not the solution. Destroying each other should not be the goal." His words come out like a promise now. "I will not fight you. Rey, I will not fight you of all people."

I will not fight you . . . I will not fight you . . .

Again, Kylo's words echo in her head. His voice sounds higher and husky like Luke Skywalker's voice. Like the owner of the green sword who had rejected Rey on Ahch-To like his sword rejects her now. It's this place, Rey realizes as she begins to panic. It's this strange, evocative place that is messing with her head. Kylo's Dark ancestral castle is fucking with her mind. "Are you doing this?" Rey manages to squeak the words out before the Force overcomes her consciousness like on Takodano. "You promised I was safe!" she accuses in a slurred wail.

"REY!" Vaguely, Rey hears Kylo call her name from a distance before she succumbs to the mysterious netherworld of the Force.

This vision is just like on Takodano. Just like when she touched hands with Kylo through the Force bond. It is at once solid and clear, but vague and fuzzy, too. It befuddles as it reveals, for mysterious are the ways of the Force. The images come fast and disjointed, and so too the intense feelings they provoke. The only constant is the loud cycling wheeze of artificial respiration. It's like a mechanical pant.

What Rey sees is not a single place or a set time. For in the cosmic Force, history bends over on itself, wrapping the present in the past, all as prologue to the future. For progress is slow because we tend to repeat our mistakes. But after a while, the Force gets impatient and intervenes. We have free will but only to a point. The Force might obey your commands but it also controls your actions. Like when it tears a lightsaber from your grip to prevent a fight that will end up killing you and delaying things yet another generation.

"I have the high ground!" A man's voice shouts this both as a physical warning and a moral declaration. "Don't do it! Don't try it!"

Rey can't see the man. She only sees a mask slowly descending over her face as the hiss of air rushing out becomes a high-pitched whine in her ears. Suddenly, she feels claustrophobic and cut off from the physical world. This is a creature in a mask who is not the monster he is widely believed to be. He will get used to the mask and the suit. In time, he will grow to see them as an advantage for they hide his aching humanity. He was never more machine than man, despite what everyone said.

"You were the Chosen One!" A man's voice shouts this loud and clear. He is indignant at the turn of events. Chagrined too by his responsibility for them.

The scene shifts and Rey stands here on Mustafar on a landing platform as angry words are exchanged by a man and woman she cannot see. "Don't you see? Together, you and I can rule the galaxy. We can make things the way we want them to be!" This man has spent long fruitless years at war and he is looking to take control. "I don't believe what I'm hearing!" The woman is dismayed and uncooperative. He knows that tone. It sets him off. "Don't you turn against me!" The man is frustrated that she doesn't understand the opportunity he presents. Once she rejects him, it goes downhill fast. He deeply regrets how it ends, but it might be for the best. Had she lived, she might have become his most intractable foe.

"You were the Chosen One!" It's a plea now to return to the happy camaraderie of the past. Because it's not too late to turn back. The Light will always welcome a sinner home.

And now Rey hears the sound of a lightsaber igniting. She whirls around and sees a black gloved hand outstretched at her. "Join me." Is this Kylo? It could be, but Rey doesn't think so. Because someone shouts back no and opts for suicide as the only way out. The gloved hand clenches into an angry fist and then drops in disappointment and disgust. That boy had been his last hope. But the boy was afraid. Until his dying day, that boy would rather be dead than be Dark. It's why years later that boy would justify lighting a sword over his nephew's head.

"You were the Chosen One!" The man's words are an accusation now. Because how could you let us all down like this?

But the Chosen One played his role, destroying the Sith in the end. And then the son of the Chosen One played his part too. Ultimately concluding that it was time for the Jedi to end. That's why the last Jedi refused the powerful Force user who sought out his teaching. And that set things in motion again. For always in flux the future is. The Jedi are extinct, the Sith are gone. That just leaves the hard task for the grandson of the Chosen One. But he cannot do it alone. He must persuade, not conquer, to win.

"You were the Chosen One!" This time, the words are spoken in a different voice, in a reverent tone. "Grandfather, show me again the power of Darkness. Because I feel it again . . . the call to the Light. Help me find the balance."

Balance. This is the passion of our Lord Darth Vader, who suffered and died for us all. He is the prophet whose choices and suffering were meant as an example. He is the instrument of the Force to teach that the Light is not always right, and that Dark means have their place and purpose too. For Vader was Light, then he was Dark, then he was Light again. The message of his sacrifice was always there in plain sight, but everyone drew the wrong conclusion. Light didn't conquer Darkness on the second Death Star. It took another civil war and another Dark Skywalker to convince the galaxy of that. When we will ever learn?

And now, Rey is back in the first Jedi temple. She is in the stone alcove looking down at the strange mosaic on the floor that oddly reminds her of Snoke. All around her, there are whispers in the air. They are promises and punishments, lessons and lamentations. Spoken in voices she knows and voices she doesn't.

"I won't fail you. I'm not afraid."

"I have failed you, Anakin."

"I failed you, Ben."

"The legacy of the Jedi is failure."

"You were unbalanced. You failed!"

"You didn't fail Kylo. Kylo failed you."

"Failure, the greatest teacher is."

Failure is the crux of the matter, for no one is learning failure's lesson. The galaxy keeps doubling down on its mistakes with old thinking that leads to the same conflicts. And so, the Force keeps rehashing it again and again, generation after generation. That means more wars, more death, more suffering until someone finally gets it right.

"REY!"

It's Kylo voice shouting in her face as he shakes her awake. Rey opens her eyes. She's on the ground with her head cradled in Kylo's lap while his knights look on in a semi-circle around them.

Rey recoils fast and skitters away, climbing shakily to her feet. Kylo has Luke Skywalker's sword in his hands, she sees.

"Careful, you hit your head when you fell. Rey, it wasn't too long ago that you had a major concussion—"

If Rey feels woozy now, it is from the aftermath of the vision. Her blood is pumping and her heart pounding still. She's blinking rapidly.

Kylo keeps talking. "I know you dreamt of the island. Do you have these visions often? That was . . . that was . . . " Kylo is impressed. He doesn't finish his sentence. Instead, he looks around at his knights. "We all felt that."

Rey ignores him. "Who is the Chosen One?" she demands. "What does that mean?" When Kylo doesn't answer immediately, Rey hollers out, "Who is the Chosen One?" She's a little crazed, but this is important.

Kylo seems to think so too. He climbs to his feet and looks her in eye. "The Chosen One is the savior of the Force. The one who will bring balance."

She nods and demands again, "Who is the Chosen One? Who is it? Who was that man?"

Kylo answers quietly. "It was supposed to be my grandfather. Then it was supposed to be my uncle."

"And now, it's you," Rey completes the thought. "Oh, Gods, it's you!" She sucks in a quick breath, recalling now that this is the man who destroyed a Jedi temple in his youth and then grew up to slay Snoke. He kills the Light and the Dark in an effort to let the past die. "It was always you," she whispers her thoughts aloud.

"Yes." Kylo nods solemnly. He hands her back Luke Skywalker's lightsaber. "I am the Chosen One, Rey. You didn't dream of the island for Luke. You dreamt of it for me."