Anakin trailed behind Kefa as she led the way through a long, narrow hallway filled with doors. "The quarters are all here. I have no idea which room is yours, so you'll have to ask Raina."

Marvelous, Anakin thought. He'd been hoping to avoid any interaction with the possibly rabid leader. She seemed to have taken an instant dislike to him, or at least severely mistrusted the new addition to her group.

The two students turned around and headed back to the first room. As they returned, Anakin could hear scuffling outside the entrance. The door slid open and three teenagers filed in, followed by a fourth who was in handcuffs, being dragged, and appeared to be determined to do serious damage to the Dark Jedi escorting him. Closing his eyes for a moment, Anakin wished he could turn and run the other way. These were his former allies, people who had depended on him. No matter what had really happened, Anakin was certain of one thing and that was that he'd failed all of them. He wondered if they would even recognize him in the armor, and almost hoped they would not.

They did, though. That much was obvious when their attention went straight to Anakin as they came into the room.

They knew. Dread filled his mind. Impossible, how could they know? Nothing happened. It wasn't real.

First to step inside was Orinda. She looked even more out of contact with reality than usual, hunched over, copper hair hanging over her face and hiding her expression from the world. Taveiran followed in her wake. His charcoal gray eyes were solemn, showing no trace of their usual sparkle. Varsha stood stiffly, her head held high. Though she had never been very emotional, her face was now completely without expression.

The last struggling trainee was pushed into the room and the door quickly closed behind him. Delbin looked terrible. His eyes appeared to be red from crying and he radiated sorrow and anger. When he caught sight of Anakin, his face twisted in rage.

"What did they do to you? Tell me! What did they ever do to you? Phelan was your friend. He thought so, anyway. Looks like you have a strange way of repaying friendship. What about Ystas? Ystas never hurt anyone. Is that why you killed her, is it? Because she wasn't a perfect little Sithspawn, like you!"

Delbin seemed to gain a sudden burst of energy and leaped at Anakin. He was caught in mid-lunge. Agwara had darted from her vantage point to grab him securely by the arms.

"I do not know what the rules may have been in your last group, but here you will not endanger another student over personal arguments. This will not happen again." Her voice was cold and fierce, with a hint of an unidentifiable accent. The Dark Jedi maneuvered Delbin out of the room, still speaking to him with quiet menace though Anakin couldn't distinguish the words.

He felt frozen in place. The ability to move or even think had been stripped away. The accusations echoed in Anakin's mind. Ystas and Phelan. Those were the dead bodies he'd seen in the throne room. The memory of a green-skinned hand lying on the floor was clear. It had to have been Ystas'. Anakin felt sick to the core.

Phelan was your friend.

Is that why you killed her, is it?

Anakin was panicking. He shouldn't be able to breathe now. The fear and disgust should be making him unable to draw breath. The sound of the respirator was louder than ever in his hearing. It was the same as it had been for what felt like centuries, though it might only have been a few days.

Perfect little Sithspawn.

He understood now. It had been real, it had all been real and now he was a murderer.

It wasn't that Anakin had never been responsible for a death before. A few months ago, another trainee had tried to kill him in a saber fight. He'd used the Force to knock his attacker away. They had been at the edge of a steep drop-off and the other had not survived his fall. Anakin had been horrified and the event still caused nightmares, but he also knew he had only been defending himself. There hadn't been anything he could have done to save his opponent; it had all happened too fast.

This time there was no excuse.

They hadn't been threatening him. There had only been Palpatine's illusion. His actions had been influenced, but the compulsion could not have worked if he had not given in to his urge to lash out. He had allowed the thirst for blood, for revenge for everything that had happened to him in the last year, to control him. Phelan was dead, and Ystas was dead too, and it was his fault.

Sithspawn.

Suddenly Anakin found that he could move. He walked out of the room quickly, going into the deserted practice room. As the door closed behind him, he sank against the wall. Tears streamed down his face and blurred his vision.

What if there was no way for him to resist the darkness, no way to keep from becoming another Vader just as Palpatine had planned? No way to protect the people he cared about from himself.

Anakin remembered the dream a few hours ago where he had seen Tahiri. It must have been real.

She had not left. She had seen what he was and what he had done, and she had not turned away. Did Tahiri see some kind of future for him, something other than the one that seemed so inevitable now? How could she? She had stayed, though.

The warmth and trust in Tahiri's eyes was the image that remained clearest from the vision. Maybe there was some part of him that was still worth fighting for. For the first time in days, Anakin felt something like hope.

There was no reason why he should give up and let himself become a pawn of the Dark Side when there might be a way out. Although he had already destroyed two lives, that didn't mean he should let himself sink any further. Nothing could change what he'd already done and nothing could make it right. Somehow, he had to find a way to make sure he never allowed something like that to happen again.

He had to choose his own path, and choose the right one. Otherwise, Palpatine would decide it for him. Anakin could not allow that to happen.

Slowly, he shifted away from the wall to stand on his own. He couldn't stay hidden here. It would be better to go back and face the others. Taking responsibility for his recent actions was the only thing he could do now and there was no use in trying to avoid it.