Chapter Two

"Ben."

Kylo Ren had once been called by that cursed name—Ben Solo. But no one dared to call him that anymore. Even in his own private thoughts, Kylo Ren was the only name he dared even think.

That's how he knew that this was a dream. A vision. A nightmare.

He'd been having them for some time now, these inescapable stories his mind played for him when he was at his most defenseless. Always the same. Always painful.

He found himself standing in a dark room. So dark he couldn't see his own hands or be sure of his own existence. Then, that soft voice called out to him again, this time more urgent.

"Ben!"

That's always when he saw her: The woman. She stood in a puddle of light, breaking up the darkness and reaching out to him, begging him to follow her out of the shadows.

He took the first step forward. And without fail, that's when he woke up.

The Force was trying to speak to him. Kylo Ren understood that much. But he knew better than to listen. Even now, as he climbed down from his TIE-fighter and began the trek from the Emperor's Hangar towards the palace situated on the former site of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, it tried to whisper at him, trying to command his attention.

He couldn't let it. He'd been summoned by Emperor Vader from across the galaxy. Nothing could disturb his mind now, especially not any vision that might have come from The Light.

As he walked through the still, quiet palace, his feet barely making a sound on the carpeted floors and his presence barely disturbing the rarely-enjoyed finery decorating the walls, he steeled his mind.

You are one with the Dark Side of the Force. The Light is trying to deceive you, to tear you away from your victory and the breaking of your chains. Don't trust it.

Outside of the Throne Room, Kylo Ren slipped on his mask and prepared to face his master.

Through victory, my chains are broken.

The Sith Code had been written on the tablet of his heart. As he entered the Throne Room, the grand room in the center of the palace carved from a mountain of Obsidian Stone, he recited that code again and again, letting it push from his mind all thoughts of his visions or the screaming children he'd seen during his last mission or the dreams he'd had of his mother.

At the foot of the throne, itself a relic from the days of The Republic, Kylo Ren dropped to his knee before his master, lowering his head in respectful deference. "You summoned me, Emperor Vader."

"Ah, Kylo Ren. I assume you have returned victorious from your latest voyage to the Outer Rim?"

"The rebel cell fomenting on Tatooine has been obliterated. Just as you ordered."

This line of questioning puzzled him. A conversation like this could have been had over Comms. There was no reason that his master needed to meet with him, face-to-face, to discuss his campaign along the Outer Rim and give him a new assignment.

Something was out of the ordinary. Kylo didn't trust it. His hand floated back to his lightsaber, resting on the hilt.

"What are your new orders, my master?"

Lord Vader didn't move from his throne, but Kylo sensed a shift in his leader. His unease only grew. "You have sensed a disturbance in the dark side of the Force, haven't you?"

That was a loaded question. Kylo's hand gripped the hilt of his lightsaber tighter. Had he someone been able to learn of his visions of The Light? Or was he referring to something else, the other sensation that pervaded the air, even in this moment? He chose the latter, careful not to think too closely of The Light lest Vader feel his longing in The Force.

"It's as if there's a fading, a subsiding that I can't explain. You've felt it too?"

"It is my life force."

Behind his mask, Kylo's jaw quivered, threatening to drop. His master's master had conquered death, or so it was told. How could Darth Vader die? "Master—"

Vader cut him off, summoning him up off of his knees and towards his throne. Kylo did what he was asked without complaint, though inside, he chafed at being called forth like a trained animal. He repeated The Sith Code again. Obeying Lord Vader was the only way to break his chains. The only way.

"You long for power, don't you, my apprentice?"

"I long to do your will in the galaxy. To create it in our image."

"There is conflict in you. That call to The Light, it hasn't left you."

"I will defeat it as you did. I swear to you."

I swear it to myself. He knew all too well how destructive The Light could be. It had destroyed Padmé Amidala. It had taken his mother. His uncle. They were now weak, powerless against the might of The Dark Side, too. He would never become like them. Never.

There was a time when he wanted The Light, craved The Light. But no more. Lord Vader had shown him the way.

But if Lord Vader had any faith in his ability to fend off the incursion, he didn't show it. Instead, he altered the subject, returning to the subject of his own demise as cooly as one discussed transit plans across a star system.

"I will conquer death. There will be no stopping me this time. But there is another matter to which we must attend if I am to complete this journey."

"Yes, Master?"

Vader rose from his throne and began perusing the collection of ancient artifacts lining the walls. Some of them, Kylo recognized from his years of training. Items belonging to Darth Revan and Darth Sidious, but there were others—a silver pendant twisted in an ornate shape almost like the ancient crest of Naboo, a lightsaber with a blue blade—that he could never identify. This time, Vader seemed preoccupied with the pendant.

"The conquering of Death is not undertaken lightly. Nor is it easy. The Force must be bent to protect my life-energy. And should I not succeed, the lineage of Darth Vader must live on."

"The Skywalkers—"

No sooner had the errant word escaped his lips than he knew it was a mistake. Like a flash of lightning, Vader's anger permeated the room, cracking at the glass of the windows and threatening to pull down some of the ornate stonework of the ceiling. Kylo threw himself to his knees in apology.

The little boy inside of him, Ben Solo, who'd been buried and forgotten a long time ago, trembled in fear and searched for the light that would save him from the encroaching darkness. Kylo Ren ignored his cries.

"Do not ever speak of them!"

"I'm sorry, Master. I beg your forgiveness."

After a moment, the anger subsided, loosening its hold on the building around them. Vader turned from his artifacts. "Your pathetic obsession with them will be your undoing. But that will change. Soon." He approached Kylo. "As you know, I've been scouring the galaxy for something."

"Yes," he said, unsure if he was meant to know any more than that.

There were rumors of Imperial soldiers kidnapping women, of storming into villages and ripping girls from their homes. Rumors of resistance quashed by Vader tearing down houses without even looking at them. But the rumors didn't tell him anything about the purpose of these raids.

"That something—and your next mission— is in your chambers."

This time, Kylo couldn't contain his confusion. "My chambers?"

"When I leave this mortal plane and pursue immortality, the galaxy will need a new emperor. And an empress."

"The Force is my Empress," Kylo said, mimicking what his master himself had said so many times before.

Darth Vader didn't sound so convinced. And, if Kylo were telling the truth, he was not convinced either. That draw to The Light, he knew it was entangled with love. Part of his soul yearned for it, threatened to stretch out of the darkness to get it. He could tell Darth Vader that his only desire was to rule the galaxy as a loyal devotee of The Sith, but they both knew it wasn't true. It hadn't ever been true.

But one day, Kylo Ren swore, it would be true. He would cut out the part of himself that yearned to love and kill it.

Love was an artifact of his past, just as ancient and useless as the artifacts in Vader's collection. He would be rid of it one day.

"Perhaps. But it was The Force that led me to her. The Force that wills you two to be together. Have you not felt that, too?"

"I…" He considered the question and knew he could not tell the entire truth. "…I will complete with The Force has put in motion. Always."

"Together, you will rule and together, you will create the legacy we seek."

"I am honored—"

Vader held his hand up for silence.

"There is more."

"Of course," Kylo Ren bowed his head and waited for more instruction.

His entire being told him that an Empress, that a woman in his life, was a dangerous prospect. He was on the blade's edge of being—one accidental move would throw him to the mercy of The Light Side of The Force. But, thankfully, Lord Vader understood. And Lord Vader saw more than he could.

"She will pull you away from the light. I have foreseen it. As the Senator from Naboo did for Anakin Skywalker, so too will this Rey from Jakku be to Ben Solo. And one day, you shall have the power that you seek."

Kylo couldn't speak. He couldn't think. But he did manage to nod his agreement. With just that one small speech from his master, he knew that this was the mission he'd been waiting for his whole life, the mission that would finally mold him in Darth Vader's image.

He would finally be able to leave The Light and his past behind for good.

"Go. Meet with her. You have much to discuss."

"Your will is my command, master. Thank you for this mission."

With nothing further to say, Kylo accepted his dismissal and began his journey to his chambers at the far end of the palace. With every step, his dead heart constricted tighter and tighter, gripping painfully at the center of his chest. He leaned into the feeling, relishing it. The pain would only bring him deeper into the darkness.

Outside of his door, however, his hand hovered over the entrance panel. With just a few taps at the key-screen, he would meet the woman who would become his Empress, the woman who would plunge him into his destiny.

He braced himself to face his future and opened the door.

But the moment he saw her, standing in the window, drinking in the sights and lights of Coruscant, he knew that his master had been wrong.

This girl wasn't going to keep him from The Light. This girl was The Light.