The hours seemed to stretch on into the length of days or weeks inside 500 Republica. Every interview was more droning and laborious than the last. Every suspect seeming less relevant to what truly mattered. Mace knew the reason why this feeling persisted with him since yesterday. Utapau was where the real battle was being fought, right at that same moment across the galaxy while he kept sitting on and would continue to for who knew how long. It was where the schemes of the Sith might finally be revealed along with the Jedi's true enemy. It was a feeling enhanced by his unique perception of the Force and all who existed inside it, the Shatterpoints in 500 Republica were vanishing, carried like pebbles in the moving currents of the present.

He didn't show this to anyone, of course. Every single person brought in for questioning received an equal amount of scrutiny from him. He had served the Order too long and too dutifully to let his personal annoyances interfere with this. Though he readily admitted it wasn't all on him, Kit Fisto made it infinitely easier. As one of the most approachable Jedi in the Order, Kit could get along with anyone or anything. If Obi-Wan was the man to ease tensions among all present parties, Kit was who you'd chat within in a cantina over whatever you wanted. A handful of times, back when the Clone Wars hadn't quite burned out their good humor, the Council would joke how Kit could probably talk down a battle droid into being his friend should the opportunity arise.

One such person was their current subject for interview, the Republic's representative for the planet of Duro, Rool Da. Despite his species being among the first space-faring civilizations in galactic history, among the founding species for the Republic itself and suffering one of the worst examples of planet-wide destruction of any world in the Clone Wars so far, Da and his species were under constant scrutiny. Non-human sentiment on Coruscant grew from day to day and from what Mace could perceive from her worried thoughts, infested even the Senate itself. The fact her species was quite close genetically and physically to Neimoidians wasn't helping matters.

She entered looking pinkish, a sign of sickness or heavy unease though she hid nothing from them, answering every question with complete honesty. It certainly helped Kit started charming her almost immediately. Calling her lovely, complimenting a perfume Mace was convinced didn't exist and acting the perfect gentlemen. If he wasn't absolutely certain of Kit's dedication to the Jedi tenants, Mace would've thought they'd have another Skywalker situation on their hands soon.

"Again, I do apologize for any interruption our conversation might've done in your schedule," He apologized for the third time, bowing his head. Rool Da waved the apology aside, again.

"Oh no, no at all. I'm very happy to have participated," Senator Da smiled, her complexion long since back to normal and a glint present in her red eyes. "My people owe the Jedi much for helping to free our world, helping you in this manner is the absolute least I can do. If you should need anything more..."

"You will be the first to hear from us," Kit smiled wider, tone pleasant and sweet. Rool Da and he didn't stop looking at one another until she was on the other side of the door, though her presence in the Force lingered there for a little while longer. "Don't look at me like that."

"I'm not looking at you like anything."

"Yes you are," Kit faced him, his smile becoming wry. "I can see that disapproving raised eyebrow of yours."

"This is how I look at everything."

"Must be annoying being so disapproving all the time, then."

Mace's lip quirked in a tiny, genuine smile. He could see what Kit was doing and made his appreciation of the cheering up known with a respectful head bow. It was a brief respite, however. A floor below, Master Tii, who took up Anakin's role of the secret third interrogator and lie detector for lack of a better term, intensified his mental connection with Mace and Kit both. The last time he'd done it was just over half an hour ago when they'd received word Anakin and Obi-Wan had begun their fight with Grievous.

Master Kota has sent word to Coruscant, Master Tii's already coarse voice sounded like two stones skidding against one another. His telepathic suggestion of Separatist leadership proves it, Mace. You were right, it's Palpatine.

Kit let out a rare, suffering sigh at the revelation, no, confirmation. Shaking his head and leaning against the chair. Through the Force, Mace could see the worry permeating throughout both of them. All three of them knew what this meant: The Sith had finally succeeded, they'd broken the Republic. They had done so well over ten years ago and spent centuries beforehand building up to that moment. The rest of the galaxy just didn't know it yet but they would soon, quite soon.

For himself, Mace was more surprised by his lack of surprise. This eventuality was something he'd felt deep down for months prior and his admission of this to the Council after Anakin's address had unexpectedly lessened what could've been a far more crippling blow. He did not feel the shock and pain of his one, secret love falling. He didn't even feel anger at himself or Palpa- Sidious for this deception. The only thing Mace Windu felt at that moment was determination, to try and stop the Sith schemes if it was still possible, but more importantly, save the Jedi Order. He would not fail it as he failed the Republic.

Saesee, Mace spoke, breaking the silencing lingering between them. Contact our strike teams around 500 Republica, tell them all to fall back to the Temple and lock it down. Unless it's myself, Obi-Wan, Anakin or Master Yoda no one is allowed in. Inform Shaak Ti she is to intensify the evacuation, I want every single youngling left on Coruscant away within the hour. Do the same with our people protecting Senator Amidala, she cannot under any circumstances remain on this planet while that scheming viper is still alive. Am I understood?

You are, Master Windu... May the Force be with you, the Iktochi Master replied, his resolve rallying from the tasks left at hand. With that he ended telepathic communication with them, soon he and all the other Jedi on Coruscant would be in the relative safety of the Temple.

"Mace," Kit asked, still sounding concerned. "You aren't doing what I think you are... Right?"

"I am," The Korun Jedi replied in a tone brokering no argument. "He's killed enough of us already. No more. If I am the last Jedi to fall by his hand, then so be it."

"At least let me and a few others come with you, perhaps we can even wait for Master Yoda to arrive and-"

"We can't," Mace told him firmly, eyes peering past the mere physical walls of 500 Republica and across the planet to the Senate building itself. The point where suddenly all the miasma of the Dark Side was flowing out of with perfect clarity. Where every single Shatterpoint that would determine the fate of thousands was hours, if not minutes away from disappearing. Peering at him from this distance, Mace could almost swear Sidious knew he was looking in that direction, allowing the Jedi Master a peek into what his enemy was truly capable of.

"Everything he's plotting is coming to a head, very, very soon. If what I see is correct, my Vapaad may be one of the only things capable of defeating him."

"I'd believe that if Skywalker were here..."

Yes... Windu admitted, letting a brief sigh. So would I...

In less than twenty minutes, the Jedi abandoned 500 Republica, in and outside. Through the Force, Mace could sense his fellow Knights and Masters converging to the Temple, their presence growing dimmer and dimmer as the suffocating hold of the Dark Side seemed to pulsate more strongly. Kit was the last to leave, staying with Mace on the landing platform. The sun overhead was nearly gone, only a few more shimmers of orange light broke the night falling on Coruscant. Mace wondered with a gallow humor if Sidious planned this out as well.

"Are you certain? Truly?" Kit asked again.

"I am," Mace said without hesitation and countering the grim, uncharacteristic look on the Nautolan Jedi's face, smiled. He extended a hand to him. "Take care of the Order while I'm away, Kit. I know you, Shaak Ti and the others can rise up to the task, no matter what."

"..."

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing..." Kit said, shaking his head and making his tentacles wave through the air. He shook Mace's hand. "It's just not like you to be so..."

"Open?"

"I was going to say sappy, but..."

The two laughed, enjoying the feeling of camaraderie they might not share again. At least, in the physical world.

"May the Force be with you, Master Windu."

"And you, Master Fisto."

Watching his airspeeder turn into one of just millions of dots buzzing around the sky of Coruscant, Mace cast one final look at the Jedi Temple far in the distance. He allowed himself a few brief moments of reverie, of the time he first came there. Of the endless, boring at the time studies he had to do from spaceflight to history. His ascension through the ranks of the Jedi. Becoming a Master in rank and practice. Training with Bipa and Sora. Making friends, losing others and so very, very much more... The recollections were wonderful and painful in equal measure. And he let them vanish into the Force, clearing his mind to the here and now.

The Senate building grew larger and larger the closer he flew. The sky darkening into dusk and then into full night on the way there, but the shadow of the place seemed to stand out even in those conditions. It was like staring into the maw of a gargantuan creature, gaping its mouth open at him in invitation. All of the Shatterpoints reconfigured themselves to it, creating a weave of choices and consequences of cataclysmic implications in thousands of different directions. So many things that could go right or wrong...

The upper landing bay, frequently used by members of the Order was empty. In fact, the more Mace tried to sense out the presence of anyone except Sidious, the more it seemed the place was completely empty. That was good, it meant no innocents would come to harm, he could fight as hard as he needed to, to win this. Entering further into the buildings, the doors wooshing open at his approach, the atmosphere inside grew noticeably more... Malevolent.

On the outside, all seemed as normal, on more than one occasion Sidious and the Council had to perform long meetings with one another in-person. In all those times, Mace never saw anything amiss. Not even recently when his suspicions of Palpatine's true allegiances became more pronounced. He wanted to smack himself for being so ignorant. From the blood-red carpets covering every floor to the very dim, yellow lights overhead enhancing the shadows rather than providing illumination, everything about the place screamed malevolence. An effect growing with each inch that closed the distance between Jedi and Sith.

The doors to Sidious' office opened as easily as all the rest, the aforementioned cosmetic changes done to the building the most pronounced there. The yellow sage statues of Dwartii stuck out against the thick shadows around the office, almost watching his every move. Sidious wasn't at the main office, however, but to the private one to the right. Warily, lightsaber in-hand, Mace crossed the empty room and into the hallway at the end of which two more statues stood. To his right were more of Palpatine's trinkets, one of which was an engraved bas-relief of the Great Hyperspace War and an urn. Sith artifacts one and all and in plain sight. Mace shook his head.

With a final woosh, the doors to Palpatine's private office opened, revealing a far smaller room adorned with black and metallic colors, another open view of Coruscant at the far end of it and a single desk with three chairs in-front and one at the back. There sat Sidious, typing away at something or other and without a care or worry in the galaxy. Eventually, he deigned to acknowledge Mace's presence. With the same disarming smile and warm look in his eyes, Sidious did a remarkable job of looking genuinely surprised and happy to see Mace there.

"Master Windu!" He said as though they were old friends who hadn't seen each other in years. "This is a surprise! Please, sit down! I trust you're here with news of the investigation or perhaps Utapau?"

"The former," Mace said, locking eyes with him. "I know everything."

"Everything?"

"Everything."

Sidious sat there, tapping his desk gently with both index fingers. Then, he let out a small laugh unlike any Mace had heard from him before and the big, open eyes he'd used to befriend so many narrowed into tiny, hateful orbs. The Dark Side around the room intensified as if all its black cloud around Coruscant was suddenly being sucked into the office, into Sidious. Mace held his ground, the darkness passing through without touching him.

"Just as I have foreseen you would," Sidious said with a blandly pleasant voice. "No doubt Grievous is dead already. Unfortunate but necessary."

"Not as necessary as what I'm about to do," Mace said, letting his saber become plainly visible from the sleeves of his thick robes. "Your schemes are over, you lying snake."

When Mace's lightsaber snapped to life, something strange happened to Sidious. Instead of meeting the challenge Sidious... Panicked? His hands withdrew from the desk and he reeled into the chair as though struck already.

"Master Windu! What are you doing? Stop this?!" He actually squealed, panting heavily. "Master Dooku, stop him!"

At that moment, the holoprojector inside the room sprang to life and there, almost lifelike in size, Count Dooku showed himself, appearing as regal as ever and lightsaber drawn for battle. With a snap-hiss, he ignited it.

"Master Windu! Stop this!" Dooku said, sounding like a holonet hero and even entering a guard stance as though he could actually fight Mace from afar. "The Chancellor and I are negotiating a peace! The surrender of the Confederacy! There is no treason here!"

"Listen to him, Master Jedi!" Sidious said, pleadingly, sounding genuine. Like a frightened old man desperately pleading for his life. There was one thing that proved otherwise, the predatory smile on his face, the glint in his eyes saying "Got you again". No doubt the entire room was bugged with camera footage and/or recording devices feeding everything happening there to a safe location. Evidence of the enemies making that would ensure the incrimination of him and likely the entire Jedi Order in a conspiracy to murder the Chancellor.

Even if Mace won, Sidious' pawns would ensure it escaped and ruin the Jedi's already battered reputation, forever. If Mace chose not to fight at all, this Sith scum would butcher him and go about his plans. Mace couldn't help from clenching his saber hilt almost hard enough to bend it. Because Sidious was right. Once again, the Jedi lost before the fight even started by choosing to fight, period. And yet, the Sith scum made it impossible for them not to fight as well. The perfect Jedi trap, just like the Clone Wars...

Well, if those were their circumstances, he would choose to fight.

"No! No!" Sidious shouted again, more panicked than ever. "Murder! Treason!"

Before Mace could even deliver the first blow, however, a blood-red saber sprang from his sleeves, cleaving the desk in-half. Dooku's visage, smiling though with narrowed eyes, vanished. The Sith Lord blasted aside the desk to both ends of the room without a glance, instead, he stared at his blade in admiration.

"You've no idea..." He said, eyes turning yellow as the blade mere inches from his face bathed him in red turned around in his fingers. "How long I've been waiting for this."

There was a flash of movement, Sidious' body transforming into a blur of motion, mangling his features into a contorted monstrosity. Mace stood his ground and let it come to him and accepted the first strike with a blow, blocking it though it forced him back. Sidious struck, again and again, pushing Mace out of the room and into the hallway, their dancing blades almost carving the Sage statues outside.

The kind, elderly visage Sidious hid for decades proved the depths of its quality deception with each attack, striking Mace with the raw force of a man decades younger than either of them. His speed continued as a blur of motion, enhanced by the added room to breathe, transforming this blur into a leaping creature resembling Yoda himself. But Mace wasn't deterred by giving the Sith the initiative, he accepted every release of the Dark Side thrown his way, letting its energies empower him via Vapaad. Stoking the fire he'd always felt hidden deep within and decided to use for civilization.

When Sidious' next strike came, Mace rushed to meet it, their weapons locking with such perfect force as they were both stopped dead in their tracks. The Sith merely smiled at the display, no doubt pleased that the real fight was nigh. Breaking the lock with a push, Mace swung his weapon overhead then unleashed a blinding circle of purple energy when Sidious inevitably darted under and tried striking again. However, Sidious didn't retreat, pushing his body back just enough to buy time for a precise jab, a crack in Mace's attack.

Thanks to his Shatterpoint perception, Mace spotted it first and halted the motion, sidestepping and trying to carve Sidious from his lift kidney upward. The Dark Sider's own body twisted in a spin, taking him to safety and releasing a series of acrobatic blows Mace weathered then challenged head-on. The two soon left the hallway and entered the main office where Mace was greeted by chairs flung in his direction. Knowing he couldn't attack or defend effectively with just one hand, Mace let the objects get closer before carving them to tiny, unusable pieces in another sweeping series of Vapaad strikes.

The heavy atmosphere of the Dark Side thickened in the room considerably, drowning out the lights themselves until their sabers and the flashes of a lightning storm outside were the only light sources left. That and Sidious' piercing yellow eyes. In overhead stances, the two stood close to one another, waiting for who would make the first move. This time, they both became blurs of motion, darting around the room in every possible direction, striking with the force of battery guns and the speed of starfighters at one another. Every one of Sidious' blows seemed to boom with the Dark Side and every one Mace sent his way, did the same, causing the very wooshes and hisses of their blades to transform into a macabre song.

What Mace found worrying was how the Shatterpoints seemed to... Diminish around Sidious. Earlier on, he was able to recognize the faults in Sidious or his technique, letting him exploit potential chances for victory. Yet, as the duel went on and the Sith seemed to unleash more and more of his power... The fault lines letting Mace see opportunities to win were disappearing right in front of him. The only fault lines left were the ones connecting Sidious to the fate of the Republic itself.

His momentary, foolish lapse caused a grin to spread out on Sidious' face and he just barely reacted in time to stop the torrent of Sith lightning from eviscerating him. Grinding his teeth and keeping his blade held high, Mace felt the pure surge of Dark Side power unlike any he'd encountered before batter against his lightsaber. Even the superconductive loop of Vapaad was only capable of redirecting the power enough to keep fueling Mace's defense. Not to counterattack.

Soon enough, Mace felt his body push back further and further... Until his back nearly touched one of the bronzium statues. That was when a lone Shatterpoint appeared and once again, he only narrowly avoided death when a second saber flew from inside the statue and right into Sidious' lightning firing hand. Igniting it mid-leap, the Sith Lord came with a monstrous, guttural growl and renewed his assault, pushing both of them to the very edge of the window overseeing Coruscant around them.

It was like fighting a human version of Grievous. Watching this being of pure flesh and blood move with speed, ferocity and seemingly infinite stamina thought impossible. But Mace would not allow himself to be deterred, instead, he immersed himself deeper into Vapaad. Every single bloody thought of murder, anger, and hate sent by Sidious flowed into him as an ordinary Jedi let the soothing Force in. He let these feelings burn away his surprise, his worry and intensified his own counter-attack. If the Sith Lord seemed to strike twelve times a second, Mace struck with fourteen. Then Sidious attacked with twenty. Mace with thirty.

Any physical sensations he felt disappeared. Any pain from his joints, fatigue from his legs and choking feeling from his lungs went entirely ignored. Mace was far too busy transforming himself into Vapaad, an endless stream of purple lightsaber slashes transformed their immediate vicinity into a tornado of impossible to follow motions. The two of them moving so quickly at the edge of the window, it seemed they were flicking in and out of existence. Mace's only concern was keeping the dark from touching him too closely, a single piece of calm in a maelstrom of pure battle.

It was in the chaos of this battle, this inevitable showdown between Jedi and Sith that Windu came to a realization after a while: he was going to lose.

Despite all his years of training, decades of grueling self-discipline and mastery of a form created to counter even the greatest users of the Dark Side and to channel his own in service to the Order and Republic, it wasn't enough. No matter how deep he immersed himself into Vapaad, using every single bit of power Sidious threw at him with each saber slash, the Sith Lord just kept coming. Endlessly. Relentlessly. No matter what Mace did to cut him down, no matter how fast or strong, this... Thing wearing Palpatine's face in front of him responded with even more power.

It was like staring into a black hole - not from the safety of a spacecraft, but lingering inches away from it. Staring at the gaping maw of pure nothingness devouring every single shred of the Force around it to endlessly strengthen itself. Even trying not to perceive the depths of this manifestation of the Dark Side was a useless gesture. Mace felt it profoundly every time he took it into himself and released it back outward in the superconductive loop that was their duel.

It was cold. So very, very cold. Colder than any world he'd visited. Colder than even the vacuum of space which he had to fight in. It was a cold so chilling, Mace could feel his insides freeze. Every time the loop continued on, more and more of the power seeped into him, rattling his bones, making his teeth chatter. A frost so impossibly strong it soon burned. It would take more to stop such a power, more than Master Yoda's thousand years of practiced wisdom and battle prowess. More than Kenobi's pure expression of Jedi philosophy. Much, much more than a Jedi throwing the Dark Side back at itself.

But he had no other choice: if he stopped now, Sidious' blades would carve him to pieces. This inevitability didn't despair Mace, however. It gave him the strength to last as long as possible. Because for every single second he delayed this spiteful creature, every time he denied his lightsabers a winning stroke and kept him trapped in this seemingly endless loop of theirs was another second his plans were being stalled. One more precious moment for Mace's fellow Jedi to escape, regroup and survive.

This was the last thing Mace could do for them and for the people of the galaxy and as every other duty so far in his life, he carried it out with pure will and determination. And when the chill of Sidious' sheer Dark Side power finally became too much for him, when even Mace's Vapaad finally bent then broke, leaving him feeling exhausted, sluggish and frozen to the bone and left vulnerable for Sidious' blades, Mace accepted it wholly. He didn't scream in pain, yelp or even flinch. Instead, he calmly and with utmost dignity accepted his impending death.

Though he did take some measure of grim satisfaction at the last things he saw as a physical being. Smiling as the black hole of the Force quickly shrank to smaller and smaller sizes. All that was left was a very tired, very old looking man staring down at him. His sadistic pleasure completely ruined.