Even after two days, the cold steel bench didn't seem to get any warmer.

Detearaan's eyes were wandering in the dark, hoping in a casual flicker that would somehow instill in him what was lost.

That was his present, his past and future. That was all he had ever known. Wise words were at the tip of his tongue, his Force potential just waiting to be unleashed.

He stood up. Ren would take good care of him. Any lingering uncomfortable sensations belonged to another life. There was no more time for anything but excruciating power.

"Come."

The voice of the guard lured him to Kylo Ren's private chamber.

The troopers looked at him with resonance. He was all of them at the same time: and yet he was infinitely better.

One officer bore a striking resemblance to that woman. He challenged her with his gaze, and she was stunned. He smiled. That was all he needed to do.

The guards stopped at the threshold: he went in.

It was an immense hall, draped in red all over. A dozen guards occupied the corners and watched the doors. The carpets and tapestries were finely decorated: the most recurring symbol were crosses, which represented his crossguard. It felt ancient, almost archaic, in the best way. Right at the centre, sitting atop of everything, was Ren, wearing his cape and his mask.

"Come."

This time the voice was his.

He solemnly walked to the throne and bowed before him.

"I am here, master."

"I see."

Ren's voice concealed a morbid pleasure.

"After closely monitoring you in your room, I believe I can express my sincerest satisfaction with your behaviour. You did not disappoint me. Therefore, soon enough you will be entrusted with some of the toughest operations for the upkeeping of the New Order: not merely mundane maintenance, but decisive battles, which will allow me to appreciate the extent of your powers and will enable you to perfect your capacity. You will be escorted, at first, by my finest troops. I require of you fifty wins, beginning now: fifty clean sweeps. Fail…"

Dete looked at his hand. He raised it, and dropped it immediately.

"Fail and you will get to know me better."

He nodded ceremoniously.

"Yes, master."

Ren slightly tilted his head. The mask concealed his studious countenance.

"I am fantastically pleased with you, Detearaan. This outcome exceeded my most hopeful expectations. I trust that you will stop at nothing to achieve my goals."

"I certainly will not."

"Very well."

Ren beckoned the guards.

"Let him in the garden."

-

The plants were looking at Detearaan. Violet, blossoming, petals big as his hand.

Peace. Unsufferable peace to have him wanton, aching for war. He knew it and revered it all.

All of the sudden, a young girl came in through the door with a watering can.

She seemed a bit startled by him.

He greeted her in a dazed manner: she gave him a beaming smile.

The features.

The features were the same.

He left the room immediately.

The girl didn't follow him, but kept gazing at him a bit absent-mindedly.

Ren was outside, waiting for him: he had no mask.

As soon as she saw Ren, the girl ran to him, hugging his legs.

He picked her up and kissed her head.

Dete's chest was as cold as the steel bench.

It was no use.

There was nothing he could do.

Obedience was the only way.