What is this that stands before me?
Figure in black which points at me
Turn around quick, and start to run
Find out I'm the chosen one
Oh nooo!"
From "Black Sabbath" by, well, Black Sabbath.
In his dream he was on Naboo- a pristine, undamaged, idyllic Naboo in all the splendor of glorious landscapes and beautiful architecture- standing beside none other than Padme Amidala.
The two of them were, he realized, getting married. He reached out to Padme - a vision in white satin and lace, so breathtaking in radiance that her beauty was almost terrifying, as if a glimpse from those vast amber eyes would stop his heart from beating - to draw her into his embrace and usher in their newly-realized bond with a kiss that would only be the first of a thousand treasured memories, when suddenly the sky, blue, beautiful, and utterly pacific, filled with dark, malevolent clouds in the beginning of a terrible, violent storm. A peal of thunder boomed directly overhead, making the ground itself tremble under its violence.
He reached for her again, his purpose now for the sense of protection and to surround himself with the peaceful, reassuring sensation of her presence. Yet, to his utter horror, his hands, which should have met with met with the exquisite warm, solid sensation of Padme's form, passed through her image, meeting no resistance of any kind. She was, he realized, incorporeal, an illusion. Suddenly, she vanished back into the air, and the sky above grew even darker, the clouds blotting out any trace of the benevolent sun. The elegant beauty of Theed was gone as well, becoming a barren, cratered wasteland of cracked obsidian surface over which flowed endless rivers of lava.
Backlit against the orange glow of one of the lava flows and the endless flashes of lighting stood a figure, dark and robed, from which peered terrible, glowing red eyes. The figure ignited a scarlet lightsaber.
Without warning the scene changed again. Now he stood in a ruined, smoking city, ordering units of white-armored, faceless soldiers to open fire on terrorized civilian captives, speaking his ghastly commands with a impossibly deep, booming voice which was clearly not his own.
He seemed posessed of terrible power, as though by his whims billions died, at his single word legions of soldiers marched forward to die and kill for him, wishing to do nothing else. and he felt nothing but pain. Terrible, intense, indescribable pain.
"It is unavoidable," said a disembodied voice of pure malevolence. "Behold, your destiny."
And then, suddenly, a cry of anguish assaulted him in the Force- and a faint presence of loving familiarity, to his absolute terror, flickered momentarily and died.
***
"NOOOOOOOOOO!!!" he heard himself shouting at the top of his lungs, suddenly upright and wide awake. A blur of motion appeared in the doorway, revealing a sight which in any other circumstance would have been indeed most welcome; namely Padme Amidala, clad in a nightgown, bursting in to his sleeping quarters in the middle of the night.
She rushed to his side, eyes wide in fright and an expression of deep concern. "Anakin," she said, rather breathless, "Anakin, what's wrong?"
When he spoke, it seemed the voice was not his own, for he did not wish to speak what he realized he had sensed.
"It's...it's my mother."
Figure in black which points at me
Turn around quick, and start to run
Find out I'm the chosen one
Oh nooo!"
From "Black Sabbath" by, well, Black Sabbath.
In his dream he was on Naboo- a pristine, undamaged, idyllic Naboo in all the splendor of glorious landscapes and beautiful architecture- standing beside none other than Padme Amidala.
The two of them were, he realized, getting married. He reached out to Padme - a vision in white satin and lace, so breathtaking in radiance that her beauty was almost terrifying, as if a glimpse from those vast amber eyes would stop his heart from beating - to draw her into his embrace and usher in their newly-realized bond with a kiss that would only be the first of a thousand treasured memories, when suddenly the sky, blue, beautiful, and utterly pacific, filled with dark, malevolent clouds in the beginning of a terrible, violent storm. A peal of thunder boomed directly overhead, making the ground itself tremble under its violence.
He reached for her again, his purpose now for the sense of protection and to surround himself with the peaceful, reassuring sensation of her presence. Yet, to his utter horror, his hands, which should have met with met with the exquisite warm, solid sensation of Padme's form, passed through her image, meeting no resistance of any kind. She was, he realized, incorporeal, an illusion. Suddenly, she vanished back into the air, and the sky above grew even darker, the clouds blotting out any trace of the benevolent sun. The elegant beauty of Theed was gone as well, becoming a barren, cratered wasteland of cracked obsidian surface over which flowed endless rivers of lava.
Backlit against the orange glow of one of the lava flows and the endless flashes of lighting stood a figure, dark and robed, from which peered terrible, glowing red eyes. The figure ignited a scarlet lightsaber.
Without warning the scene changed again. Now he stood in a ruined, smoking city, ordering units of white-armored, faceless soldiers to open fire on terrorized civilian captives, speaking his ghastly commands with a impossibly deep, booming voice which was clearly not his own.
He seemed posessed of terrible power, as though by his whims billions died, at his single word legions of soldiers marched forward to die and kill for him, wishing to do nothing else. and he felt nothing but pain. Terrible, intense, indescribable pain.
"It is unavoidable," said a disembodied voice of pure malevolence. "Behold, your destiny."
And then, suddenly, a cry of anguish assaulted him in the Force- and a faint presence of loving familiarity, to his absolute terror, flickered momentarily and died.
***
"NOOOOOOOOOO!!!" he heard himself shouting at the top of his lungs, suddenly upright and wide awake. A blur of motion appeared in the doorway, revealing a sight which in any other circumstance would have been indeed most welcome; namely Padme Amidala, clad in a nightgown, bursting in to his sleeping quarters in the middle of the night.
She rushed to his side, eyes wide in fright and an expression of deep concern. "Anakin," she said, rather breathless, "Anakin, what's wrong?"
When he spoke, it seemed the voice was not his own, for he did not wish to speak what he realized he had sensed.
"It's...it's my mother."
