The Dark Side coiled about him like a predator, circling about in anticipatory glee until the moment to strike present itself. Indeed, Obi-Wan could see Dooku's plan already working as intended. The thick blackness all-around and the heavy stillness accompanying it were broken only by the blue glow and faint hum of his saber. The lack of sight was of no concern, even half-way trained Padawans learned quickly enough to fight without sight, sound, or any number of physical sensations. So long as the Force was around, one needed only it for guidance.
This was the brilliance of Dooku's strategy. Mustafar was a ruined world, scared and damaged beyond any hope of repair. It was perpetually seeping out more than simply lava in boundless quantities, it was a nexus of the Dark Side itself. A planet-sized testament to the most horrible aspects of the wondrous energies connected all life in its intricate tapestry. The Count previously used it to enhance his abilities and now, when that would no longer work, he let it mask his presence.
It permeated through every shadow. Choking the filtered air pumped into the station. Thickening the blackness. Imperceptible pressing against Obi-Wan's entire body in moves meant to slow down and stress out. The Dark Side shroud also protected Dooku who, as silent as a creature of the night, was somewhere inside it. Moving about with great ease and absolute control. No matter how much Obi-Wan attempted to pierce through the smog, his perceptions were overwhelmed and retreated to only his person.
"Afraid, Obi-Wan?" Dooku's baritone glided through the air with an ominous reverb. "The ultimate power, the one you and the rest of them refuse to use, is all around you. It must bring back many fond memories of choking on it on Coruscant."
"I preferred the Room of a Thousand Fountains myself," Obi-Wan replied, looking for any sign of attack. "Far more pleasant than this... Power, as you so call it."
"It is power, Obi-Wan. Power in its most tangible form. Invigorating to its master, suffocating for its enemy."
"I shall take your word for it, Master. Personally, I am loathed to feel as though I'm stuck on the inside of a factory chimney."
Even Dooku's laugh reverberated. "Such sharp wit, my friend. I wonder how well it will protect you when the time comes!"
He did not so much emerge from the shadows as though they seemed to peel off of him mid-leap with the ignition of his lightsaber. Obi-Wan held his ground and managed to block the three swipes and single thrust sent his way before the blackness embraced Dooku again and hid him inside. With measured steps, Obi-Wan began to move across the room, remembering where everything was. There was no sound at all save for the hum of an ignited blade and the gentle tapping of his boots against durasteel.
Another snap-hiss from the shadows came soon after and this time, Obi-Wan was far more ready to meet it. Dooku himself did not emerge with it and immediately Obi-Wan prepared himself for trouble. The telekinetically controlled blade came at him with flourishes impossible for any human hand to execute and it was joined soon enough by one of the tables torn off the ground and flung in his direction. With one hand occupied deflecting the sword swings, Obi-Wan used his other to blast away the table.
It was then that Dooku emerged, in the scant moment where Obi-Wan was caught between objects. His boot struck the nose, sending a flash of stinging white pain through Obi-Wan's whole skull and tumbling back to the ground. With an effortless wrist motion, Dooku snatched his weapon from the air and unleashed an offensive barrage that met only feeble resistance. Obi-Wan's efforts were split between trying to restore his balance while also holding off the blade strikes.
When he did manage to block and counterattack, Dooku's mostly shadowed, blood-red face revealed a gruesome smile. At that moment, his weapon shrunk to nearly half its length, and Obi-Wan could do little but stare as his own blade cut through nothing but air. With another press of his button, Dooku's return to full length. It was only an instinctive, last-second roll to the side that saved him from being skewered through the chest. In truth, Obi-Wan escaped the exchange with only a surface level burns across his upper left shoulder.
It was not a proper cut, that would've been far more troublesome but even Obi-Wan's mild nature couldn't prevent him from flinching and gritting his teeth ever so slightly from the burning sensation. Dooku did not press on, disabling his weapon again and slithering back into darkness. Obi-Wan did not pursue, instead of focusing his breathing in such a way to expel the pain from his body and out into the Force. The practice seemed to elicit a pleased murmur from Dooku.
"I can feel it, your pain, your misery. It is a sensation most... Spiritous."
"Indulging in it strikes me as unhealthy."
"You would know otherwise if you simply allowed yourself to try."
Obi-Wan did not have to try to know otherwise. The Clone Wars, Naboo, these past few weeks, they had shown him pain in a great many forms. He would never wish even half of those experiences on anyone, much less purposefully inflict them to appease himself. What troubled him the most was Dooku himself. Since the turn of the battle, his previous demeanor was more apparent. There were fewer and fewer cracks in his fighting style and particularly his personality. If Obi-Wan ventured to guess, it was this troublesome Dark Side smog he'd erected about the room clouding him, pushing his apparent doubts into deep, deep recesses.
If he was to complete his mission, this could not be allowed to continue. But how to dispel it? Obi-Wan was under no such illusions to believe he could repel such a miasmic gathering of malignant powers. He could endure, certainly, for a very long time but this would accomplish nothing but delay one of two inevitabilities, neither of which was acceptable to him.
That was when he smiled as a very dangerous, very useful plan bloomed in his mind. It was risky beyond any description, the kind of risk that could end horribly in a simple instant. It was the kind of plan only Anakin could possibly think of and would no doubt enjoy listening about when they re-united. Yes, he would go through with it. The Force would guide him to whatever end lay in store for him.
Rising back to his feet, Obi-Wan de-activated his lightsaber and took a single breath. His whole being was focused on perceiving through the smoke, all of his years of perception and telekinetic training reaching out furtively to their numerous targets. Otherwise? He was completely defenseless, Dooku could strike him down in a moment, and inevitably would just as the plan required him to.
"What is this?" He inquired, amused. "An admission of defeat, I hope?"
"Quite the contrary, it is but the prelude to yours."
A scoff came from the shadows. "We shall see about that, my young friend!"
A snap his came followed by the beating of leather boots. There was the hiss of air cut by a lightsaber mere feet away. Dooku would be on him soon, but not soon enough. In those precarious moments between life and death, Obi-Wan smiled and flung both of his hands upward. The wave of focused, small, and numerous telekinetic waves exploded throughout the room. Not aimed at Dooku, but at the numerous buttons and levers situated throughout the multitude of control consoles.
The windows flung themselves open, the doors banged rhythmically up and down, the lights turned on and a self-destruct sequence warning initiated. Dooku halted instantaneously and watched around, mouth agape and eyes wide. Obi-Wan merely smiled and leaped back from a poorly swung strike. He watched in those precious few moments as Dooku frantically went about telekinetically pressing as series of buttons across the room, successfully stopping the self-destruct. In the meantime, Obi-Wan did something similar by ripping out the buttons and levers capable of manipulating the lights, closing the windows and doors, and anything else that might give Dooku his previous advantage. Obi-Wan did it just in time to re-ignite his blade and intercept another blow with ease.
"You are mad!"
"I believe the word you're looking for is audacious."
Dooku's left eye twitched, he snarled and came in an attack sequence which Obi-Wan parried and blocked entirely. With his free hand, Obi-Wan sent the various removed buttons and levers sprawled throughout the room directly at Dooku. They were just quick and dispersed enough for him to suffer minuscule but attention diverting hits here and there. More than enough for Obi-Wan to attack, to finally end this battle and cut his lightsaber in-half.
Then something happened, something very horrible, though he did not fully understand it at first. Even Dooku felt it and froze as well.
Somewhere far, far away, a monumental outburst of pure Force energy erupted, resonating so profoundly, so absolutely, Obi-Wan felt as though he was stuck in the vacuum of space, at the mercy of an incoming explosion from which nothing to could protect him. His whole body shook, his heart skipped a beat and momentarily, his mind entirely blanked out. He even stopped breathing.
Even in this numbed state, Obi-Wan's perceptions eventually grasped the full picture. The eruption came from Coruscant, it was the Dark Side... It was gone from there, gone entirely. He could see the whole world there as though it was in front of him. He allowed himself a relieved smile and laugh... Until his thoughts looked deeper, to the epicenter of it all. Obi-Wan saw Master Yoda there, in the Senatorial dome, walking up to a blasted crater with remnants of lightning on the ground. He was alone.
When he finally realized, but not accepted, why that was, why Anakin was nowhere in-sight and why Master Yoda felt as though someone tore a hole in his chest, Obi-Wan's heart broke.
Dooku gasped, blinking and heaving, watching the Dark Side... Wither away. No, be obliterated into almost nothing. It was not only on Coruscant but everywhere. The power with which they had built the Empire, with which they would have carved this mad galaxy into something worthwhile, at last, was already a worthless shadow of its former self. Because he was dead. Darth Sidious was gone.
The fact was so impossible to grasp, Dooku did not even perceive when he and Kenobi had walked away from one another. He holding himself upright against a nearby console while Dooku's free hand grasped the closest chair for support. This was horrible, it was a catastrophe! What were they to do now? Sidious was the true leader, the true Master of the Sith! This changed... Everything. It put everything into jeopardy.
He had to leave Mustafar. He could not die there, too much was on the line. Dooku had tossed aside too much for it to simply... Come to nothing now. Then, a noise broke his considerations. A sob. It was from Obi-Wan. Staring at Qui-Gon's pupil with a look of abject shock, Dooku realized he was crying, openly and in horrible misery.
All of his Jedi training, all of his self-control, all of his humility was shattered. Because Obi-Wan's student was gone, Anakin Skywalker had taken himself down with Sidious in a final gambit to ensure Jedi victory. And Kenobi knew this with horrible clarity. His breathing was ragged, his face already red and streams of tears falling down his face. Looking lost and confused entirely, the only words to come from Obi-Wan were "no" and "Anakin".
Dooku stared on, unable to accept this, accept anything. He suddenly felt very weak, very old. Because Obi-Wan reminded him of himself... When he learned what happened to Qui-Gon and this simple fact caused a compulsion to nearly overtake him. The compulsion for him, Count Dooku of Serenno, Darth Tyrannus, and last of the Sith, to simply walk over to Kenobi and... Console him.
But that would mean the true end of everything. Even more so than dying to Obi-Wan's blade, Dooku understood that such a gesture meant all his efforts were wasted. All he'd cast away in pursuit of this direction was for naught, as flawed and worthless as Obi-Wan claimed it was. All the death and destruction, all the scheming and sacrifices, everything Dooku was these past few years would turn to ash. If he forsook the Sith path, then Dooku would truly cast away his entire life into the trash heap of irrelevancy.
The steely anger overtook him, backed by desperation and fear. He couldn't let that come to pass. Too much had transpired, he couldn't change his path, not again. And so, Tyrannus, shaken but unwilling to accept the horrible alternative, attacked Obi-Wan. Kenobi reacted in-spite of his turmoil, managed to leap aside, and tumble onto the ground.
Yet before the Sith Lord could attack again, he froze. Obi-Wan looked at him strangely, eyes still wet, breathing rasping. It was the look of realization slowly spreading across his features.
"... My student is dead," Kenobi said in a tone of faint disbelief. "... My brother... Is dead... The boy who was to be Qui-Gon's next apprentice just died..."
He shook his head and Tyrannus saw something else on his face. The narrowing of his eyes, the slow clenching of his fists.
"And you... You who trained Qui-Gon... Who grieved for him... Cannot even let me do the same?"
Rising, chest heaving up and down as what few remaining tears dried in his eyes, Obi-Wan clenched his lightsaber and scowled in a way that exemplified pure, disbelieving rage. Suddenly, Tyrannus felt a shift occur in the Force, around Kenobi. The translucent being who freely and graciously served as a window into the Force, a being who shone so brightly in it, dimmed more and more. A storm cloud was gathering there.
"Are you truly, truly," Obi-Wan said in a low snarl, taking a step forward. "So corrupted, such a broken, contemptible creature that you do not even have the barest shred of empathy? Of even basic decency?!"
His blue-blade swing and Dooku just barely overcame his shock to sidestep away from it as it cleaved through the table. Kenobi did not pull it out, instead, he stayed there for a moment, keeping the blade down then slowly got it free by casually severing everything between it and open air. The cold fury in his eyes was paralyzing. Terrifying. Dooku, feebly tried to say something, a plea, remark, anything yet every single word died in his throat by staring at the bloodthirstiness of Obi-Wan Kenobi.
His anger was snuffed out, leaving nothing but fear and desperation to drive him and so he attacked again, over and over again. Kenobi, as ever withstood it all, his fury not diminishing his Soresu. The only change was the fact Obi-Wan advanced forward. He never took a step back, he never gave way or halted. He simply kept moving onwards with a deliberate pace. Not slow enough to give the enemy enough time, but not fast enough to end it too quickly.
Dooku was pressed more and more with each passing moment. No matter what technique with a lightsaber he tried, Kenobi withstood it effortlessly, his narrowed eyes never leaving Dooku's own and in doing so, clawing away at his rapidly shrinking confidence. This was not Jedi Soresu, this was Soresu by way of Dun Moch. An impenetrable defense not made to withstand the enemy so as to buy time for negotiation, appeasements or simply to wait for a proper striking opportunity. No, this was a show of force. A show of making oneself appear like an unstoppable, impenetrable object.
With each strike, Dooku felt his powers wane further, and further, Kenobi was barely flicking his wrists anymore to deflect and his pace began to pick up. Panting and forcing his weary arms to holdfast, Dooku grit his teeth and shouted, releasing a telekinetic blast directly at Obi-Wan who was only five feet away. Kenobi walked through it mid-step, the pounding of his boots against the durasteel sounding like the drums of an ancient, dangerous ritual rapidly ascending to its bloody crescendo.
With the wall closing in behind him, Dooku gasped and tried to gather his shreds of power left for one final attack. Something to help him hold Kenobi off before everything became that much worse. Yet when he thrust his fingertips in direction of the enraged Jedi Master, not even sparks came out. Staring at his useless hand, Dooku glanced at Kenobi and saw the beginnings of a predatory snarl on his face, his arms pulling back over his head for a massive blow. It was only some miracle that Dooku was able to block it.
For all the good it did. The hammer strike was so powerful he was propelled across the room twenty feet and smashed into a nearby wall with enough force to dent it. His body went numb, his blade slipped from his fingers and Dooku could do nothing but feebly try to fight against the darkness passing over his eyes.
Obi-Wan stood over the unconscious Count, breathing deeply, his chest on fire and his body invigorated but the pure release in the aftermath of his blow. It was unlike anything he'd felt before, so purifying, so rejuvenating Obi-Wan did nothing for a moment to take it in with a single deep breath. All of it, as much as he could. Because it felt good, and if it stopped or lessened, he would feel things he couldn't bear to. Things no Master should ever feel but they did, because of Palpatine... And Dooku.
Because of them, how many Jedi would feel this pain and agony? How many of them would know such profound loss? And for what? The machinations of psychotic murderers and egomaniacs dedicated to bending all to their will? Was that the kind of person the Force wanted him to save? Was that the kind of person worthy of redemption?!
Obi-Wan knew the answer: no. Dooku would not leave this place alive, if he could not be there to save Anakin, then he would cut this bastard down and ensure his schemes never hurt anyone ever again. With this thought, Obi-Wan walked the final distance to Dooku, with a telekinetic swipe of his hand, he forced to Count up, propping him against the nearby wall. Then, he positioned his blade inches from the Count's face, letting its heat hasten the wakening process. He wanted the Sith to be conscious enough to feel the blade carve into his chest. It was nothing less than he deserved.
When a groan escaped Dooku's lips and his face instinctively moved away from the Saber, Obi-Wan gripped it with both hands and prepared to swing, it would all be over soon enough. All the pain, misery, and anguish this poor galaxy was subjected to would end, the debt of the Sith would be paid in full.
"Obi-Wan."
He stopped and blinked. That voice was familiar. He knew it so well and yet hadn't heart it for a very, very long time. When Obi-Wan realized who it belonged to, he turned around, freezing into a statue at the sight before him. The sight of Qui-Gon Jin standing there, just a few feet away. He looked almost the same as the last time his student saw him, long greying hair, his full Jedi attire present, and yet he was unmistakably different. He was a glowing, blue, translucent being. An ethereal being of the Force.
"... Master...?"
He smiled and laughed, laughed in spite of everything. "You have gotten old, Obi-Wan, you're already forgetting the simplest of things."
"I..." Obi-Wan gulped, shaking his head. He wanted to laugh, he wanted to cry, he wanted to lash out at him, embrace him. He did none of those things but stared on. "How can this be...?"
"The Force is a great thing, Obi-Wan. Filled with countless mysteries no one being can hope to understand in a single lifetime. It is why some of us are awarded the privilege of... Another life."
Dooku stirred from behind, casting a dark mood to pass over Obi-Wan's face again. Yet before he could do anything about it, Qui-Gon's hand was on his shoulder, translucent and yet unmistakably tangible. He was so shocked by the feeling he could do nothing but stare back at his Master, his teacher returned from the netherworld of the Force.
"This is not what must be done, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said in tone all too familiar, the tone he took whenever he spoke for the Will of the Force. "Killing Dooku will bring you no pleasure, no release, it will only set you on a dark path. Let it go."
"Let it go... Let it go?!" He smacked Qui-Gon's hand away or tried to, simply stumbling back. "Anakin is dead! He died because of the Sith! Because of everything Sidious and your old Master have done! He tried to kill me even as I grieved! How can I possibly let it go?!"
"Very easily," Qui-Gon took the shouting in-stride, completely unfazed. "Do you remember what you told to Anakin when you spoke on the eve of the Coruscant invasion? Our love for those close to us... It is not measured by the amount of revenge we dispel on those who wrong or kill them."
The calming effect was immediate, the burning intensity subsiding but Obi-Wan said nothing.
"When you lost Siri, you held yourself back for what reason? What stayed your desire for revenge then?"
"... I'd truly lose her if I did it..." He answered in a low voice, avoiding Qui-Gon's look, opting to focus on the ground. "... She'd never want me to do such a thing, least of all in her name...
"And do you think Anakin would?"
"...I know he wouldn't..."
When Qui-Gon's hand rested on his shoulder again, Obi-Wan did not strike back at it, he didn't shout, yell or protest. Even his desire to see Dooku dead ebbed out of him. He didn't want to fight anyone or anything. All he wanted... Was to go home. Go home to his friends and family and with them mourn as any decent man should after such a loss.
"I am sorry, Obi-Wan."
"... Thank you, Master... For everything."
Dooku stirred again, louder this time, Obi-Wan looked at him, unsure of what to do next.
"Leave him be," Qui-Gon said, pressing his hand against Obi-Wan's back to guide him out of the room.
"Are you sure... What if-"
"Master Dooku has seen all he needs to. Trust me, and trust in the Force, you have done everything you can. What comes next, depends entirely on him."
Somehow, Obi-Wan managed to fly back to Gormo, waving a farewell to Qui-Gon who vanished at the landing pad and leaving the burnt planet of Mustafar behind him. He was tired but couldn't sleep, caught in a strange halfway point between exhaustion and stressfully awake. Too distracted to even by annoyed by flying for a change, he eventually came upon the planet of Gormo where many of the Knights and Masters awaited his return.
Obi-Wan said nothing to them, and from the look on his face, the message was clear: leave him be and so they graciously did. Heading to Master Kota's ship, he circumnavigated the length of it until he reached the medical bay. For a moment, he hesitated to go in, of facing and whatever she might say to him. Would she blame him for Anakin's death? For not being there to save him? Somehow, he managed a calming breath and went in and almost immediately stopped.
She was in a bed, looking tired beyond the ability of mere words to describe. Tired but also happy, in both hands, she cradled the sleeping bodies of two magnificent children. Anakin's children, here at last and so small, so fragile and yet so strong in the Force already. Their sensation was of a true, purifying sort, not the blinding intoxication of the Dark Side but of something else, something more.
Gently, Obi-Wan walked over to the side of the bed and looked at them closer. Padmé looked up at him, eyes also teary and red from grief. But she didn't blame him, she wasn't angry with him. All she wanted, all the two of them wanted, was someone there at that moment to ease each other's burdens. And so, the two of them, quietly and without disturbing the children, mourned the death of Anakin Skywalker.