Ezra Bridger gripped the base of his lightsaber tighter, stubbornly planting his feet into the ground as his face morphed into a scowl. "I don't fear you."

"Then you will die braver than most," came the ruthless response. A familiar red glow illuminated the room as Darth Vader drew his lightsaber back, preparing to swing again. With every electronic buzz, the blade only got closer to striking.

Ezra grunted as he leaned into his next swing.

Then, with a shrill zap, the hilt of his lightsaber severed in half. Ezra collided with the ground, wincing at the live wires that sparked beside him. Slowly, his eyes lifted to the looming figure standing above him.

"Perhaps I was wrong," taunted Vader, who drew his arm back once more, his tone lacking any mercy. Ezra shifted helplessly to move away, hurt hand clutched against his chest.

Before Vader could do anything else, a voice echoed through the space; it was loud and held a deep sense of conviction. Unwelcomed. Far, far too familiar.

"It wouldn't be the first time," is what she said, and that's all it took for Vader's blood to run cold.

He tried to take a breath, but it seemed like his lungs couldn't fill. Shock, thick and potent, hit him in the center of his chest; it wrapped around his mind and splintered into his robotic limbs, reaching every part of him with the truest sensation of agony he had felt in a long time.

It can't be her, he repeated to himself, over and over again, but each assurance felt almost empty. The Emperor said she died years ago.

In fact, Vader had her lightsaber to prove it. She had to be dead.

There was a suffocating, drawn-out moment of silence. No one dared to move a muscle; Ezra shook at his feet, his breath bated, until Vader's respirator whirred once more. It was slow. Strained. He forced it in and out, his chest tensing so much that it felt like what was left of his lungs was being crushed.

He gritted his teeth. Then, he lowered his weapon. When he turned, slowly, hesitantly, his eyes landed on a togruta standing at the mouth of the temple.

So it was her.

His stomach twisted, a million questions whirling through his mind. Vader glanced between her and the boy trembling at his feet, a sudden rush of raw, unfiltered anger clouding his vision.

Did…

No, there was no question about it. They sent her there to kill him.

Ahsoka seemed to sense the shift in the Force, yet she dared to look innocent—as though it wasn't her doing. As though she didn't mind being a puppet.

And they called him cruel.

The togruta ignited her lightsabers, watching him closely as he took a menacing step toward her. She could feel the Force around him—pulling, full of deep emotion as it stretched across the air between them. The presence was familiar yet foreign, holding the resemblance of both an old friend and a stranger.

With every step Vader took, the tension in the space grew thicker and more tangible. His tight grip on his lightsaber twitched, an unruly panic brewing in the core of his being.

"They told me you were dead."

The words slipped out of his mouth far before he processed them. It didn't even feel like it was his voice that said it. She watched him, planting her feet and widening her stance, brows tightly knitted together.

"What are you talking about?" she asked.

Of course she would play the victim. It only made sense. He gritted his teeth, forcing his mind to stop wandering so he could concentrate on his orders and the task at hand.

Kill the Jedi, Lord Sidious demanded, all of them.

He drew his blade, knuckles turning white under his gloves and shaking against his will. She didn't deserve his remorse. They weren't on the same side this time. She was the criminal—working with the Rebellion to fulfill a pitiful desire to stand out and defy the systems put in place.

She deserved her fate.

"I suppose I will have to kill you myself," he spoke, the words tasting vile in his mouth.

Her expression twisted. "Come get me."

Their lightsabers clashed. He pushed into his swings, taking every advantage given to him as he recognized the need to kill her quickly.

With every strike, a new memory fought to resurface—from their first meeting to their last, and each and everything in between. Memories he had suppressed into the deepest corners of his mind grew nearly impossible to ignore. He bit his tongue harshly, the familiar taste of copper seeping into his mouth shortly after.

"Tell me where to find the remaining Jedi," snarled Vader, blood splattering from his lip to the inside panel of his mask.

She grumbled and swung again, "Not a chance."

Their lightsabers clashed again, and again, and again, and he was beginning to feel frustrated. Why couldn't she see that the Empire is here to restore peace in the galaxy? Why couldn't she just open her eyes to the truth?

His blade came down on hers firmly. "Even after everything the Jedi have done, you still choose to put your faith in them," he said, his composure slipping. "It's pitiful."

She grunted, screwing her feet into the ground and pushing against the blade. "You know nothing," she tightened her grip and added more pressure.

They both let up, taking a step away from each other.

"I know more than you think, young one."

"Not enough." Ahsoka tried to jab her left blade toward his side, but he blocked the weapon before it touched him.

He force-pushed her back as another wave of unwanted memories arose. The balls of her feet skidded across the open platform, her arms flying out for a moment so she could regain her balance. Ahsoka looked at him with wide eyes as she reignited her lightsabers, and he paused.

She was the enemy.

But... perhaps she could be persuaded.

He took a small step toward her. "We need not be adversaries," he said. "The Emperor will show you mercy if you tell us where to find the remaining Jedi."

"There are no more Jedi. You and your Inquisitors have seen to that."

Her lips curled into a snarl as she spoke. There was agony in those words—loneliness as well—yet, he couldn't find any sense of betrayal. Not in the way she should feel it toward him, seeing as most of the Jedi died at the hand of their former friend.

"And even if there were," she panted, "I would never help a monster like you."

There was no humor in Vader's voice when he spat, "Spoken like a true Jedi," in response.

Ahsoka narrowed her eyes, reigniting her sabers. "I am no Jedi."

Vader growled as she charged at him, meeting his lightsaber with hers. "Tell me, then—what is the point in fighting for them?"

Ahsoka grunted as she pushed against his weapon, feeling her spine ache under the pressure. "I don't have to explain myself to you!"

Sanctimonious, was a thought that crossed Vader's mind, so painfully sanctimonious.

"Every remnant of the Jedi and the Old Republic will soon fade away." He pushed against her blades, causing her to lose her footing and stumble backward. "I am giving you the chance to rise above that. Why won't you take it?"

He allowed her time to stand again. Once she got to her feet, she scowled at him. "I will never turn to the Dark Side."

"Dark Side, Light Side—can't you realize that there is no true difference between the two?" Vader's helmet tipped to the side slightly. "We both use the Force for our own purpose."

Ahsoka narrowed her eyes. "You're twisting it."

"I see that you speak on behalf of the Force now."

Her face twisted. "You don't have to be a Jedi to know what the Empire has done is wrong."

"As if a Jedi could be used as a model for perfection." Vader's words were spat like venom. "Surely you know the Council was corrupted. That's the reason it fell."

She moved into her combat position. "I'm not interested in discussing politics with you."

"Politics," he chuckled, long and bitter. He took a step toward her. "At least the Separatists earned their power."

"If killing is how you 'earn' something," Ahsoka said, "then yes, I suppose they did."

"Are you truly so naïve that you believe the Jedi never killed out of their own self-interest?" He took another step forward. "As they flaunted their misplaced self-righteousness, they became no better than the cause they so valiantly fought against."

She huffed a breath. "The Jedi were meant to be peace-keepers."

"They were silencers. Spokesmen living in complacent ignorance, watching from podiums as the world around them burned." Vader paused. "It is the Jedi's inability to accept progress that started the war."

"The Jedi tried to reserve balance in the Force," she returned. "We tried to help as many people as we could—"

"You're still defending them." He took another step toward her. "It was an illusion, Ahsoka!—a low-minded grab for power! When will you wake up and realize that the Jedi are not to be trusted?"

Her face darkened at his words, and he reeled in another mechanical breath, using the moment to collect himself. "You were disposable to them," he said, "was that not made clear when they turned on you?"

Without subtly, she brought her hands up to the two sabers latched onto her belt.

"How do you know about that?"

"We both know how this will turn out." He watched her. "There is no point in continuing in this foolish performance."

Ahsoka ignited her lightsabers, swinging one of them up to his neck. It hovered just above the durasteel. "What are you talking about?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. "Who are you?"

Vader opened his mouth to speak—but his breath caught in his throat when his eyes suddenly began to burn, the yellow tint he saw the world through fading for a moment. Then, it hit him; a thought so simple, so subtle, so foolish, and yet…

His mind hastily reached into the Force and searched for any form of deception, of lies, of ploy—ultimately coming up short. A long beat of silence passed, a single, abrupt thought ricocheting through his mind.

She doesn't know who's behind the mask.

He gritted his teeth together so tightly that he was almost concerned they would crack. This wasn't a trick from the Rebellion—it was merely a twisted, insolent coincidence. This whole time, he was unrecognized by his former apprentice, who fought valiantly, trying to bring him to his knees.

The realization was too much to bear.

Even still, he was in a battle that he could not abandon. This knowledge struck him to his core, and it made him wonder…

If he could force this same disadvantage upon her.

He swallowed harshly and leaned as close as the blade would allow. Even this close, she could not see the man behind the mask. It filled him with a sense of bitterness.

With a long breath, he said, "I was the Chosen One."

At his statement, a wave of emotion crashed over both of them. Vader's throat tightened at the climactic shift in the Force around her—horror, anger, confusion. The despair became so palpable he could nearly reach out and touch it. The emotion seeped through his skin, penetrating the very core of his being. This…

He did not expect this.

"What do you mean, the Chosen One?" she urged, hesitantly, as she swiftly brought up her other blade and crossed one over the other above his throat. Her knuckles turned light orange gripping the handles. "There's—there was only one person they called that."

Her hands trembled at his silence.

"No." Her lightsaber blades vanished as her arms dropped limply to her sides. "No, no, no. This—this isn't right. You're not him. You can't be him."

She looked like she was going to be sick.

Vader gritted his teeth again.

"Anakin?" Ahsoka's breath audibly stuttered, an unfamiliar burst of emotion beginning to boil beneath her skin. She stumbled back. "It can't be. My Master could never be as vile as you."

"It was foretold that I would bring balance to the Force," he paused, his voice wavering.

Her breathing suddenly picked up. She ignited her left lightsaber before slicing the side of his mask with an anguished cry, sending the metal flying across the floor and exposing part of his face. He ignited his saber before she could do any further damage, wincing when her blades came down on his harshly.

"How can you see this as balance?" she rasped, her swings having much more power behind them than before. "The Empire is built on nothing but lies and deception—"

"The Jedi are no better," he retorted sharply, tears clouding his vision, "they don't deserve our remorse."

She let out an aggravated yell when his lightsaber came down on hers, causing her back to bend unnaturally. "How could you fall so far?"

"It was a small price to pay for enlightenment."

His modifier had been damaged, allowing his real voice to seep through. Ahsoka's knees were shaking. She pushed herself into her next swing, their lightsabers buzzing loudly as they clashed over and over again—each wave with more intensity than the last.

She looked into his eyes, wincing at the sickening golden tint. "Do you know how long we searched for you?"

He didn't respond, focusing his energy on maintaining the upper hand. It proved to be rather difficult.

"After the war," she panted as she swung again, "I searched for years." Swing, swing, swing. "How could you do this? How could you?"

Ahsoka stepped away for a moment, looking at the severed side of his mask so she could see his face. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, breaths coming out in short gasps.

"Was it worth it?"

At her question, memories of the many horrors that he had inflicted throughout the years resurfaced in his mind. He had killed so many. Most without remorse, most lacking a proper cause—all slain in his pursuit of power.

The survivors—the witnesses—never made it far. Vader killed them shortly after they shared their testimonies, allowing time for their rumors to circulate. The whispers of the natives quickly turned into galaxy-wide panic, allowing him to build his fame simply through parlance.

Through doing so, he had gotten what he'd always yearned for: respect. With all the work he had done, he told himself he deserved it.

He believed that on the good days.

Regardless of the power he possessed, Vader still felt as though he had a chain wrapped around his throat—one that the Emperor yanked whenever he needed a favor. He knew, deep down, his rank would never advance. He would always be second.

Vader's ensuing silence seemed to only fuel Ahsoka's hunger for an explanation. She drew her blade again.

"Answer me!"

He watched her expression closely, a mixture of rage and desperation in the Force around her. Then, he detached. "Yes," he said, "it was worth it."

But Ahsoka could sense the endless feeling of regret that surrounded him—its chains pulling, dragging him deeper and deeper into the destructive path he had chosen. There was a nearly inconceivable amount of pain that hid below the surface—the emotion piercing the very core of his being, binding his soul to despondency.

"You're lying," she accused.

"Stop giving yourself hope." He struggled to keep his voice impassive with the memories of his past life creeping up on him. A gross feeling of nostalgia entered the Force, reminding him of all that he used to have; of the life he could have obtained if he stood with the Jedi.

But he stopped the train of thought as soon as it came. No, he couldn't lose sight of the horrors that the Jedi had inflicted—they were no better than the Sith. They just worked in secret, hidden behind a tainted veil of virtue. If he had to take a side, he wanted to stand honestly.

"You feel trapped," she panted, fingers wrapped tightly around the hilts of her lightsabers as she took a hesitant step forward. "I can sense it."

Vader shook his head, shunning himself for even letting the thoughts in. "You're delusional."

She felt the Force expand around him, drawing in a million different directions. "There's no point in hiding," she said.

The Jedi were evil, a voice told him, but... she wasn't a Jedi.

He clenched his fist as a soft voice whispered into his ear, asking him to stop and rethink. Perhaps there was a reason Ahsoka was here. Perhaps… it wasn't a coincidence that they met again.

No, Ahsoka was conspiring with the Rebellion—there was no way for them to be acquainted without them both being charged with treason.

She was the enemy.

He hesitated as another thought sprung to mind.

...wasn't she?

Between the two of them, he was the one with the most blood on his hands. He was the one that burned down cities in the name of his cause; the monster parents warned their children about. Ahsoka would never do the things that he had done.

But he was trying to maintain peace.

He shuttered a breath.

Was it power or peace he was more concerned over?

That thought hit him the stomach, sending a spark of alarm up his spine at his own hesitation to answer it.Did… he truly not know the difference between them?

No, he was on the right side. He was sure of it.

But what if he wasn't?

He remembered the countless cries of innocents; envisioned the smugness of the guilty. He knew one deserved it over the other—yet he slaughtered both. Where was the line between justice and tyranny?

Vader felt a tormenting tug on his soul, his mind spinning, his senses overwhelmed at his realization. In a moment of clouded judgment, his honesty trickled through—an honesty he hardly registered as his own.

"I never meant for it to go this far."

Ahsoka tried to hide her surprise at his confession, but he felt the Force shift around her.

"Then why would you let it?" Her voice was softer now, resembling the tone she would use to comfort a wounded soldier.

He closed his eyes when his stomach twisted again.

His love for Padmé was what started this path—his desperation to protect her, to keep her alive. He found ways to turn his sorrow into anger, and anger into power, but it never took away from the grief that haunted him, or the darkness that hung over his shoulders from dawn to dusk.

There were times when life would catch up to him, and he would realize that he couldn't save her—that the prophetic dreams he received revealed her fate, and there was no way for him to change that.

The burden of the inevitable had ensnared him while she was still alive. He counted the days with trepidation, aching to save her from the bitter hands of death, from the reaper that waited to pounce.

But all of his efforts were for nothing.

"It was the only way to save her," he rasped, voice low and suddenly thick with emotion. He dimly acknowledged the tears that streamed down his face, the moisture collecting at the bottom of his mask uncomfortably.

Vader wanted to scold himself for being weak, vulnerable in front of the enemy—but instead, he took in a shaky breath, letting his eyes close once more as he lowered his head.

"But I couldn't," he admitted, "I wasn't strong enough."

Then, Ahsoka's features softened, a mixture of compassion and sympathy manifesting itself in the Force around her as the pieces began to draw together. It felt peaceful.

"Anakin." Ahsoka took a hesitant step forward. "You can't blame yourself for what happened to someone else."

He flinched back. "Can't you see that her blood is on my hands?" His voice broke, sounding almost droid-like with his broken modifier. "I failed her."

"But that's not your doing," she insisted, "no one is powerful enough to manipulate death. Not even you."

Vader shook his head. "I could have been."

He knew he was lying to himself, and she knew too. He wouldn't be able to save her when death had already marked her soul.

But before Ahsoka could say anything more, a blast of purple lightning erupted from inside the Sith Temple, waves of blue energy overflowing into the outer ledges of the platform and pushing them back as debris began to whirl in the air. Her eyes landed on Ezra and Kanan, staggering out of the center with the Holocron in hand, and at the sight of them, it finally hit her.

The Temple was collapsing.

They needed to leave.

Ahsoka turned to Vader, sensing a turmoil brew beneath the façade.

Power or peace.

"Go," he spoke before he could stop himself, his stomach twisting at his own words.

"What?"

He glanced over to Ezra and Kanan, uncertain. "Take your companions and go," he repeated tensely, "before I change my mind."

Ahsoka watched him, eyes narrowing at the hesitation that bled through his words. "Why would you let us escape?"

His eyes flickered from Ahsoka to the Temple.

"Ahsoka!" Ezra yelled from the ship, his voice rasping. "We have to go!"

She glanced at Vader again, feeling the fresh wave of anguish that encompassed him at the mention of her departure.

"You have to leave now, Ahsoka," he warned, voice low and urgent. "There isn't much time."

But she only stood there. After a moment of thought, she dropped her sabers to the ground. "No."

His eyes widened, alarm clear in his voice, "I beg your pardon?"

"I won't leave you," she decided. "Not again. There's still good in you, Anakin. I can sense it."

"Ahsoka, hurry," Kanan yelled as the ship rose from the platform. "This place is coming down!"

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be." Vader looked around as the Temple began collapsing into ruins. "I'm not worth your life."

"Then come with us," she insisted, extending a hand. "We can help you."

"It's not that simple," he spoke through gritted teeth, though he did take a fleeting second to consider her offer. One that he was sure to scold himself for later. "I cannot just leave."

The ship hovered above them. "Ahsoka, time is up!"

"Ahsoka," he said harshly. "You can't stay here, Snips. You have to go now."

She looked at him, the nickname echoing through her mind with a sharp pang of nostalgia.

"Ahsoka," Another shout from above them, impossibly more desperate than the last. "We have to go now!"

A frustrated sigh fell from her lips, and she turned to him one last time. "I'll come back for you, Anakin," she said, "I promise."

At her announcement, she felt a new emotion enter the Force around him. She sensed hope—muddled with hesitation, oozing with uncertainty—but it was there. He looked like he wanted to say something more, but he refrained from doing so.

Ahsoka grabbed her lightsabers before she leaped into the air, grabbing onto the side of the Phantom and climbing inside, her thoughts were muddled, her body overwhelmed from the battle. She released her tension into the Force, watching from a distance as Anakin got into his TIE fighter.

Shortly after Chopper sped them out of the tavern, a burst of energy engulfed the area, the explosion flooding over onto the surface and oozing into the air. Ahsoka's heart skipped a beat as she strained her eyes to see if his ship got out in time.

Ezra came up behind her, confusion written on his features. "Who was that, Ahsoka?"

She let out a sigh of relief when she caught sight of his TIE fighter flying toward the sky. He was safe. There was still hope.

"Anakin Skywalker."