Deep beneath the Temple of Light were ruins, cold and dark.
Below the towering apex of her great pyramid- below the seemingly endless catacombs that sprawled out from under it- was a place Ahsoka wanted nothing more than to bury. She never wished to return to this monument to her sins. And yet, she could never truly leave it behind. It was the deepest foundation of the First Light- the monstrosity and the lie upon which her entire empire had been built. Memory oppressed her as she walked past ancient stone tablets and inscrutable machinery. Lit by the uncanny glow of the darksaber, she descended a cavernous path towards her own personal hell.
After walking for what felt like an eternity, she spotted a dull red light gleaming out of the darkness. She stopped. Hesitated.
" I... still hear them..." she thought, struck by a painful pang of remembrance. It had been years since Ahsoka and Maul had fought their final duel in this lifeless place. But the pain felt fresh as ever. Maul had directed Malachor's Sith superweapon at Coruscant, vanquishing trillions of lives in an instant. But what point was there in blaming Maul? She'd been the one to make his plans possible. She had helped him every step of the way. She'd permitted herself that fatal weakness- trust. And now she felt the full weight of her failures, eyes wide and hands trembling.
"...the screaming never ended..."
Again and again, the scene repeated in her mind. A divine light pouring out from the heart of the temple- the death cries of trillions- and the ever-burning rage that had ignited in her heart.
"...it never ended..."
It took seconds before she realised she was biting her own lip- biting with such force that blood trailed down her mouth, dripping onto that aged floor.
"...they blame me."
With a deep breath she entered the decrepit room where the glow originated. At the room's centre was a two-pronged obelisk, and beneath it was the crimson prize she'd come so far to collect- the holocron of the ancient Sith. She closed her eyes, returning her saber to her belt with one hand and reaching out to draw the holocron towards her with the other. It was a pyramid in miniature- a relic of eons passed, unfolding before her with the potent crackle of purple lightning.
"So..." spoke a voice from the holocron, old and foreboding. "The student returns to the teacher she spurned. Do you plan on embarking upon the path of destruction once more... Sith'ari?"
Ahsoka's muscles tensed. Her eyes flicked open and she spoke, channelling a resolve she didn't have.
"I told you before. Don't call me that."
"Why not? Is it not a title befitting your role?"
"My... role?" Ahsoka said through gritted teeth. "I destroyed the Sith! I am not their saviour!"
"No... but you are a pawn."
"Excuse me?!"
"That hunger for power, for control... I sense it. You walk down a path that has condemned so many before you... and will condemn so many after."
"Don't presume to know my intentions. I'm not here to wield this wretched weapon," said Ahsoka, gesturing at the structure around her. "Nor am I here to listen to riddles from an echo of a ghost. I'm here for answers, and you're going to give them to me."
"After all these years, you haven't changed at all. Brash. Impulsive. You come seeking knowledge you aren't ready to learn."
"And who decides that? You?"
"Ha! I will give you the answers you seek. Whether you accept them or not."
"Fine then. I'll start at the beginning."
Ahsoka recounted the events that had unfolded on Mandalore. She spoke of how she stood under that burning sky, channelling the Force to do the impossible. And with an uncharacteristic shakiness in her voice, she described the horrifying consequences that followed- how her crew had been petrified just like the victims of Malachor's superweapon on Coruscant. She'd come to terms with the death toll that resulted from the destruction of Concordia. In the grand scheme of things, those lives were inconsequential. But her flagship's crew- something far worse had happened to them. She didn't know how and she didn't know why- but still she felt it with absolute certainty.
"What... did I do?"
For a moment there was silence save for the crackling lightning surrounding the holocron. Then, it spoke once more.
"Did you ever hear the legend of Darth Nihilus... Lord of Hunger?"
Taken aback by the seeming nonsequitur, Ahsoka shook her head.
"I thought not. So few remember our history... thus we are doomed to repeat it. Darth Nihilus was forged in the dying embers of Malachor millennia ago. He- if one could even call the thing he became a man- was a Sith Lord who destroyed countless worlds. Nihilus was a predator who fed upon the Force, consuming planet after planet, system after system, draining the lifeforce of trillions in a futile attempt to sate his endless appetite."
Ahsoka's eyes widened.
"There's no way that's possible. A single Sith wielding that much power... if such a person existed, the Jedi would have been wiped out a long time ago."
"And there's the error you and so many before you make. Mistaking dependency for strength. Let me be clear: Darth Nihilus cared nothing for the Sith... nor the Jedi. He did not control his hunger. His hunger controlled him, consumed him, twisted him into little more than a beast. The devastation he wrought left nothing to conquer, no prizes to be won. His so-called 'power' brought only death and emptiness. Still, the Sith admired Nihilus... and learned all the wrong lessons."
"They wanted his strength for themselves."
"In a sense. For a time, many considered Nihilus their Chosen One- their Sith'ari. And when he fell, his disciples constructed this great temple on Malachor, the dark world that had spawned their Dark Lord. For some, it was nothing more than a symbolic gesture meant to honour their master's strength and legacy. But others believed there would come a time when another Chosen One would rise- one who would rule the power Nihilus wielded rather than having that power rule them. To this end, they constructed within his temple a weapon with a heart of kyber- a grotesque facsimile of the Sith Lord's own abilities, capable of draining the life from whatever world the wielder wished. It was their hope that one day, this weapon would be used by the next Sith'ari to bring about the ascendency of the Sith."
Ahsoka's stomach lurched.
"So the petrified bodies..."
"Are all that remains once the lifeforce of a living being has been drained completely. To learn to sever life from Force is to learn the greatest of the Sith teachings, but it is not an ability that can be taught. It can only be gained through instinct- through experience- through witnessing it firsthand. And this... weapon... allowed you to do just that. You blame yourself for Coruscant's destruction. That is why those deaths still blacken your soul, why they deepen the void inside you. That is why the path you walk is the path of Nihilus- the path of silence and emptiness."
The Empress recoiled, visibly unsettled.
"You have no idea what you're talking about. Everything I've done has been for the sake of preserving life. Not destroying it."
"You forget how easily one can become the other. You put yourself between Mandalore and that falling moon. You resolved to do whatever it took to stop it. And when you reached out and found your own strength lacking... you who devoured the strength of your allies."
"That... no. You're lying."
"A kath hound cannot change its nature. That yawning emptiness within you- that emptiness born from those terrible echoes- it is something you and Nihilus share. You are an abyss- a wound in the Force. And though you possess the means to be the galaxy's salvation, I fear your hunger will consume you first."
"What do you mean?" Ahsoka asked severely. "The Force is... everything. How can such a thing be wounded? How can I be such a wound?!"
The holocron glowed with new intensity. Ahsoka was enveloped by a great white light, and when it faded, she found herself in a familiar scene. She stood on a shattered landing pad beneath the sulphurous clouds of Mustafar. But despite the scorching fires surrounding her, Ahsoka was gripped by a terrible chill. The holocron's voice boomed across the landscape like some wicked and unfathomable god.
"You were never meant to join Maul on his mad quest. You were never meant to slay the Chosen One. But because of you, the path of history turned from its intended course. "
Deep shadows, blacker than black, coalesced behind her. Ahsoka turned, recoiling in horror as a monstrous figure emerged from the darkness. Out of pure instinct she drew her lightsaber- blade ignited- as the sound of inhuman breathing filled the air. Without a second thought she rushed forward and cleaved the spectre in two. Shadows deeper still surrounded her, drowning her in a sea of nothingness.
"You peered into the monster's mind- saw the unspeakable devastation he wrought," continued the strange and disembodied voice. "But Anakin Skywalker was a pawn of a much greater evil. As are you."
Slowly, pinpricks of light emerged from the void- tiny specs like stars in the sky.
"What are you doing to me?!" yelled Ahsoka. "What is this?!"
"This is what you asked for," it replied. A figure of pure light appeared in front of her- fading into a woman with peerless features, pale white skin, and flowing green hair. It was the Daughter- the being whose powers had miraculously saved Ahsoka from Vader's blade.
"The Mortis Gods," said the voice, speaking through the Daughter's mouth. "A product of the mind's attempt to comprehend the incomprehensible- to perceive the Force, simplify it, categorise it."
The Daughter's visage twisted, eyes turning blood red and hair vanishing into the blackness as its face morphed into the malicious grin of the Son.
"Light and Darkness. Conceptualisations so powerful- so believable- that they manifest physically. The Mortis Gods appear to act of their own volition- perhaps they too think as such- but even the most convincing illusions are still illusions. In truth, there is no Light. There is no Darkness. There is only the Force. For the Force has but one will."
The expression of the figure in front of her contorted into the aged face of the Father.
"Anakin Skywalker was no different. From the moment he was born, his destiny was set in stone. That is what it means to be an avatar of the Force. That is what it means to be a Chosen One. He harnessed the Force so easily because he was an extension of it! I have known his kind before, and make no mistake: a Chosen One is nothing more than a puppet who believes themselves free. Such people are created when subtle manipulations aren't enough- when the Force deigns to more directly assert its will. The Clone Wars... the death of the Jedi... and of course, the birth of the Sith Lord Vader... all of it unfolded according to the will of the Force. But against all odds, you managed to make your own choice. You entered Vader's mind. You saw his atrocities. You felt the guilt for his actions as though they were your own. And so potent was your anguish that, when your mental link shattered, it was felt across the galaxy. It echoed endlessly, carving a festering wound into the Force itself- an abyss that follows you wherever you go."
Ahsoka blinked, and the Father's image was gone. Her gaze turned to the ground, where she saw her own body lying lifeless. The eyes were blank white, the face marred by burns. The chest was an exposed pit of ribs and rotten viscera, still writhing as it was scavenged by countless vile insects. She watched in horror as the corpse- her corpse- rose, looked at her, and spoke, lifeless lips contorting unnaturally as though they were puppeteered by some otherworldly power.
"The impact you had- both on Skywalker and the Force- upset its designs. You permanently derailed Skywalker's path such that he was no longer capable of fulfilling its will. That is why he was disposed of. That is why you were given a second chance at life. When you rose from the dead, you did so not as Ahsoka Tano, Jedi Exile, but as Ahsoka Tano... Chosen One. And though you were Chosen by circumstance, not fate, you are a tool all the same. That is why I call you Sith'ari- another puppet who believes themselves free."
The stars fell away, the sky around her turning a deep blue. Bolts of lightning descended like spears from the heavens, and great stone ruins grew around her. Her stomach lurched as she recognised the scene from her dreams. She stood in front of a jagged stone throne. And beneath her were the endless legions of kneeling, black-clad soldiers- their armour now drenched in the unmistakable crimson of blood. She heard their sickeningly familiar cry and for an instant saw once more the destruction of worlds and the fires of war that would consume the galaxy whole.
"All hail the Sith'ari!"
With a sweeping gesture, Ahsoka unleashed a wave of Force lightning that rolled over the sable legions, singing them where they stood.
"No!" she yelled. "This isn't what I want!"
"You're lying to yourself," replied the voice. "You turn your allies into followers and fanatics. You wield warships and weapons, institutions and inquisitors, all for the sake of protecting your own power. You reject the Sith label yet walk their path. Perhaps because you choose to... perhaps because you have no choice."
"I choose to protect people. I choose to bring peace and order to the galaxy!"
"Yet now you've 'chosen' to spark new wars. I sense it- your resolve to crush all who would reject your empire's doctrine."
"And what other choice is there? What's the alternative?! If I don't act now, it's only a matter of time until they act against me! Every system that would stand against the Light is a threat to everything I've built! "
"If what you've built is so fragile, why is it worth protecting?"
"You don't get it. Without me, the galaxy tears itself apart. Do you think I like having to make the hard decisions? I'm doing this because I have to- because I'm the only one who can!"
"Thus, you will carry out your role. You will cleanse the galaxy in an ocean of blood, clearing the board for the next turn of the cycle. You will conquer and in turn, be conquered. Countless will live and countless will die, never knowing true freedom. And all of it shall happen by the whims of this damnable Force. All for the sake of 'balance'."
The illusion faded, and Ahsoka found herself back in the ruins of the old Sith temple. The gleaming light of the holocron dulled as she regained her bearings and responded.
"I don't... I don't care about balance. I just want the fighting to stop."
"It is action, not intention, that matters in the end. Jedi- Sith- despite superficial differences, you're all the same."
"...no. You're wrong. The Jedi- the Sith- and the order I've built- they couldn't be more different."
"On the surface, perhaps. But you are all slaves to the Force in one way or another. Jedi philosophy may just be the most honest about that fact. Jedi celebrate their servitude. They want you to be content with the fact that all is preordained. They ask you to be comforted that no choice is ever your own. The Jedi are taught submission- they are taught to abandon their passions, their desires, everything that makes them alive and makes life worth living- all so they can be better servants to a power that cares nothing for them."
"Only because they believed the Force benevolent. They thought the will of the Force was worth fighting for."
"But even you know better than to believe them. Look at the course of our history and ask yourself- is this galaxy the product of a benevolent power or an indifferent one? If everything unfolds according to the Force's design, then so too does the death... the suffering. That is the truth the Jedi refused to accept. The Force uses all of us, pulling us into endless cycles of war and bloodshed to achieve some arbitrary and fleeting notion of balance. Because of the Force, everything that lives is bound by chains so subtle most fail to notice their presence. The few that do, be they Jedi... Sith... or your so-called 'Missionaries'... are indoctrinated into venerating those same chains."
Ahsoka shook her head.
"The Sith are completely opposed to that way of thinking. Their code seeks freedom."
"And that may make them even more deluded. The Sith claim to command the Force, but it is the Force that commands them. They choose the quick and easy path, using its strength as a substitute for their own. Take any Sith, strip away the Force, and what are you left with? A weak, pathetic shell of a person. The Sith are every bit as reliant on the Force as any Jedi. They depend on it. And dependence is subservience."
"...then what does that make you? You're a Sith. Your teachings are inscribed on a Sith holocron."
"Perhaps. Perhaps I am Sith. Perhaps I am Jedi. But perhaps I am just the legacy of an old woman who sought to be free."