Aoi Dragon: And here is chapter four. I hope anyone who is actually reading this is enjoying the story.
C*
Chapter 4
Heather's POV
Over the next few days, Khonshu asserted himself more forcefully, his spectral essence manipulating Heather's movements like a marionette. At first, the alien sensation of her limbs moving without her will sparked defiance, her muscles straining against his commands. "Do you seek to undermine your own training, Moon Knight?" His voice thundered in her mind, irritation sharp and clear. Heather bit back her protest. It wasn't defiance—it was fear. Surrendering control, even to Khonshu, felt like stepping into shadowy quicksand. But for mastery, for justice, she would endure.
Heather forced herself to relax the next time she felt Khonshu's essence begin to guide her movements. She closed her eyes and conjured the image of the Northern Lights, allowing the power to flow through her in a way that felt more natural to her mind and body.
Pleased, though he masked it behind his inscrutable tone, Khonshu declared, "You will first learn to move as the moon moves: fluid and untouchable. This foundation must be flawless, or you will falter." Heather threw herself into the lessons, knowing his patience was as thin as gossamer. Each stumble earned a sharp reprimand, each success only a murmured, "Adequate." Yet beneath his stern façade, Khonshu observed her progress with a growing sense of vindication—this one, perhaps, would surpass them all.
Heather went out into the city, using what Khonshu had taught her to take down criminals with a fluidity she hadn't possessed before.
The alley plunged into darkness as Heather extended her hand, shadows bleeding from the walls like living ink. The Pykes stumbled, their weapons clanging against the pavement in blind panic. Moon Knight moved like a specter through the gloom, her white armor catching faint glimmers of moonlight that danced like ghosts in the melee. A crescent blade arced through the air, its path silver and silent, disarming one thug. Another turned toward the sound—too late. Shadows rippled, and Heather's fist connected with his jaw, sending him sprawling.
The Pyke Syndicate members were taken aback by Moon Knight's sudden appearance and swift attacks. They swung their weapons, but their strikes were easily evaded as she danced around them, her movements fluid and graceful. With a flick of her wrist, shadows erupted from the alleyway, forming a swirling vortex that disoriented the Pykes, blinding them with darkness.
Seizing the opportunity, Moon Knight launched herself into the fray, her fists flashing with speed and precision. She delivered a series of powerful blows, her movements a blur of white and shadow. The Pykes, caught off guard, were no match for her skill and ferocity. One by one, they fell to the ground, defeated.
As the last Pyke crumpled to the ground, Moon Knight turned her attention to the young boy, who was cowering in the corner, wide-eyed with fear. She knelt down, her voice gentle and reassuring.
"It's okay, little one," she said. "You're safe now."
The boy looked up at her, his eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you," he whispered.
Moon Knight smiled. "You're welcome. Now, let's get you home."
"My sister! One of them took away my sister!" The boy cried.
Moon Knight's face hardened under her mask. "We'll find her," she said, her voice steeled with determination. "Tell me what she looks like, and I'll bring her back to you."
The boy nodded, his lower lip quivering. "She has long brown braids," he said.
"I'll find her," Moon Knight promised. "And I'll bring her home safe."
With that, she rose to her feet and turned back to the alleyway. The shadows still swirled around her as she began her search for the little girl. The young boy watched as Moon Knight disappeared into the darkness, a sense of awe and wonder washing over him. He had never seen anyone fight like that before, with such skill and grace. And yet, there was something more to her, something beyond the shadows and moonlight. She was his hero, his savior.
Moon Knight scaled the nearest building and attuned her senses to search for any sign of the little girl and her kidnapper or kidnappers. Moon Knight paused for a moment, focusing on the area. Her eyes closed, and she tried to connect with the moon's all-seeing light to guide her search. There was something off in the distance, a flicker of movement too fast for the naked eye to catch. Stealthily, she began to make her way toward the area. She paused at the edge of an alleyway, listening intently. She could hear the faint sounds of crying, growing louder as she approached. Suddenly, a large Pyke Syndicate member appeared before her, gripping a frightened young girl with long braids harshly.
The little girl looked like she'd been beaten, her clothes torn. The sight of her made Moon Knight's blood boil. This Pyke... Moon Knight trembled in absolute fury. He would get no mercy, no warnings, and no second chances. She would rip him apart for harming two innocent children and for whatever he'd likely done to the little girl.
Without a word, Moon Knight charged forward, her cape flowing behind her like a streamer of liquid smoke. She struck the Pyke with a blur of motion, her fists pummeling into his chest and sending him crashing into the wall. The impact echoed through the alleyway, reverberating in the night air.
Moon Knight turned to the little girl and shouted, "RUN! RUN HOME!" The little girl hesitated for a moment before taking off at full speed, tears streaming down her face. Moon Knight watched her go, a sense of relief washing over her. She turned back to the unconscious Pyke, her eyes hard as stone.
"You won't hurt anyone else," she said, her voice cold and empty. "I will make sure of that." With a flick of her fingers, she summoned chains made of shadows and bound them to the Pyke's shadow, tying them around his wrists and ankles. She raised her hand, forcing the Pyke to levitate before her, spread-eagle. He struggled against the chains attached to his shadow, but they were far stronger than anything tangible. Moon Knight snarled with hatred. If there was one thing she would never abide, it was harming children.
The girl's bruised face and torn clothes became a singular focus, a spark igniting the volatile storm within Heather. Shadows writhed at her command, slithering up the Pyke's body like serpents. No mercy, her mind roared, drowning out everything but the pulse of her own fury. She was no longer Heather, no longer even Moon Knight—she was vengeance incarnate. The blade flashed, drawing green blood with each cut, her lips curling into a snarl she barely recognized as her own.
When the Pyke's lifeless body hit the ground, the fury ebbed, leaving behind only nausea and shame. Heather staggered back, the weight of her actions crashing over her. She unsummoned her mask, cold air hitting her tear-streaked face as bile surged. What have I done? she whispered, the shadows retreating to the corners of the alley as if disowning her.
Heather hadn't wanted to kill. She'd staved off the need to do so for so long. But seeing that little girl in the state she'd been in... She'd lost it.
Her body trembled as the bile rose into her throat. She turned to the side, fell to her knees, and vomited into the gutter. The sounds of retching echoed through the alleyway as the Moon Knight struggled to control her emotions. The smell of bile and the sight of her own vomit only served to heighten her discomfort. She clutched at her hair, trying to calm herself down as she took deep breaths.
She could feel Khonshu watching her from above. Knew that he likely thought her weak for reacting this way. Heather stood up slowly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Her heart still raced and her breath came in shallow gasps. The alleyway was eerily silent.
"Khonshu..." She called to him, an apology in her tone as her voice cracked. An apology for her weakness, for her inability to confidently fulfill her duties.
Khonshu responded to her call, his disembodied voice echoing in her mind. "Weakness does not suit you, Moon Knight. Regret is for those who hesitate, and you did not. You must understand that the path of the Moon Knight is not an easy one. It requires strength, both physical and emotional."
"I still feel guilty," she admitted. "He asked for mercy, and I gave him none. I... I don't..." Heather trailed off.
"'Do you seek absolution from me, Moon Knight?' Khonshu's voice was unyielding, reverberating through her skull like a tolling bell. "Your guilt is a luxury. The scales are balanced by blood, not sentiment. This Pyke chose his fate the moment he harmed the innocent. You did not falter—you acted as justice demanded."
Heather clenched her fists, trembling. "I don't want to be a killer."
"Then bury that weakness," Khonshu commanded. "Mercy has its place, but not here. Remember this night, not for your guilt, but for the strength it gave you to do what must be done."
She dipped her head and closed her eyes, "Poe would never approve." Her hand came up and trailed along her Soul Sentence beneath her vambrace. "He'd see me as a monster."
"Remember, my Moon Knight, that Poe Dameron is a military man. While he has not yet seen the brutality of a true battlefield, he has taken lives. And while he may hide it well, I can see that each one weighs on him just as much as the life of this Pyke weighs on you. If he views you as a monster for what you do to protect those who cannot protect themselves, then he is unworthy of being your Soulmate," Khonshu declared.
Heather sighed, taking a moment to compose herself before responding. "Thank you, Khonshu. Your words bring me some comfort." She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. In and out. Then she looked up at Oba Diah's moon, "I will make sure the two kids got home safe." She glanced down at her armor, which was spattered with green blood. She cringed, her stomach churning again, but she knew that there was one less piece of filth on Oba Diah.
So, she headed off into the shadows to find the two children she had saved.
Poe's POV
Poe felt a sudden wave of rage rush through him, hot and sharp, a surge that shot from the bond his Soul Sentence had forged with his Soulmate. It was unlike anything he'd ever felt before—not just anger, but righteous fury. Something was terribly wrong. His heart rate spiked, and his instinct was to act, to figure it out himself before anyone else. He slammed his fist onto the desk in frustration, wishing he had more control over the bond, over her emotions.
Clenching his jaw, he tried to focus, battling the tension tightening his chest as the fury pulsed within him. It wasn't his own—he knew it wasn't—but it was influencing his temper. The anger bled into his own frustrations with the First Order, with the ever-growing threat they posed to everything he fought for. He rubbed a hand across his face, trying to regain his composure. This was beyond his understanding.
The rage ebbed away, leaving his heart pounding in its wake. His hands were still trembling as he rolled up his sleeve, revealing the silver Aurebesh letters of his Soul Sentence etched into his skin. The rhythmic pulse of guilt and sorrow hit him like a wave, an undercurrent of sadness that brought a pang in his chest.
He clenched his jaw, feeling the weight of her sorrow. The sensation of loss, of something important slipping through her fingers, knotted his stomach. He wished he could hold her, comfort her somehow, but it felt like she was beyond his reach.
If she were Force-sensitive, Leia might be able to help—maybe even reach out through the Force-forged bond between them. His thoughts whirled in uncertainty, but the urgency in his gut told him he couldn't wait. He hurried from his room, not bothering to lock it behind him, and made his way toward Leia's office.
Poe found Leia hunched over her datapads, her focus on the mission reports in front of her. His Soul Sentence felt as cold as it had since the last wave of emotions, but the intensity of those feelings still burned in his chest. He couldn't ignore it any longer.
"Poe," Leia acknowledged, not looking up immediately. "What's going on?"
Poe walked quickly toward her, not wasting a second. "General, I can't wait. Something's wrong with her," he said, his voice low but steady, the seriousness of his words evident.
Leia looked up, her expression cautious. "What's happened?"
"I felt her emotions. Her rage... it was like a fire, searing, but righteous—not like my temper." Poe stood tall, gripping the edge of her desk with tight fingers. "And then... guilt, loss. Like she's mourning something. I don't know what, but it feels like she's in trouble, and I can't just sit here."
Leia set her datapads aside, her expression softening, a trace of concern crossing her face. "Tell me more."
Poe took a deep breath, the words tumbling out. "It was... like she was fighting. She was angry, so angry, and then, when it faded, I felt this overwhelming sorrow. I don't know what happened, but it was like I could feel the weight of her loss."
"Do you still feel it now?"
Poe shook his head, "No, I just… I want to try to help her. Something's happened, and I just know in my gut that she's hurting."
Leia reached out, closing her eyes for a moment to center herself. She stretched through the Force, brushing against the bond between Poe and his Soulmate. The pull was undeniable, but as she focused, something interrupted her connection.
In the Force, Leia glimpsed a woman clad in white, her movements swift and precise as she fought among the chaos of city streets. Shadows pooled unnaturally around her, twisting and writhing as though alive. A dark presence loomed, sharp and cold, wrapping around the bond. A voice rumbled, rich with authority and ancient power.
"You are not wanted here, Daughter of Skywalker," the voice rumbled, thick with power. "You don't know what you're doing, and if you continue, you'll harm more than just this connection to his Soulmate."
Leia stiffened, eyes narrowing in recognition of the power. This was no ordinary Force user. "Who are you?" she asked, her voice unwavering despite the magnitude of the presence. "And what do you want with Poe's Soulmate?"
The being's voice was a low growl, the sound of thunder far off in the distance. "I teach and protect his Soulmate, shaping her into the Knight she is destined to become," he said, his tone impassive. "My purpose transcends your mortal understanding, Daughter of Skywalker."
Leia, unflinching, pressed further. "And you think I'll just let you do this? For what purpose?"
There was a pause before the being answered, his words lingering in the space between them like a distant storm. "I warn you. If you continue, you will cause irreparable damage to the bond you seek to protect. Be cautious, Skywalker."
Leia's eyes hardened, her hands gripping the edge of the desk as she stood her ground. "You are warning me? Why should I trust you?"
The entity's voice deepened, like the rumble of a storm on the horizon. "You should trust no one but yourself. But heed this: meddling in the fates of these two souls is a path you may regret."
Leia nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving Poe's as she withdrew from the probing bond. The Force felt thick and turbulent, swirling with a presence both ancient and powerful.
Leia turned back to Poe, her expression grave. "What is it?" he asked, his voice edged with concern.
Leia took a deep breath, trying to gather her thoughts. "There's a presence in the Force, cold and powerful. Poe, this... entity, it's cold, powerful. It speaks of teaching her, of guiding her. Its presence in the Force feels ancient. It's not Jedi, and it's not Sith. It's something else. It could be a force older than anything we've encountered."
Poe's eyes widened at the realization. "Older than the Jedi? How is that even possible?"
Leia exhaled, her gaze steady. "It's possible. There are stories—whispers—of Force users who predate the Jedi. This entity could be one of them. It's older, wiser, and far more dangerous than we can imagine."
Poe clenched his fists, frustration rising in his chest. "Then what do we do? We can't just wait around."
Leia's voice softened. "I know, Poe. But we need to be careful. Every step we take could shift the balance of the bond, of the Force itself. We have to tread carefully."
Poe didn't like it. But he nodded, his resolve hardening. "I'll do whatever it takes. I'll protect her."
Leia placed a hand on his shoulder, a silent acknowledgment of the burden Poe carried. "We'll figure this out, together."
Khonshu's POV
Khonshu, the moon god, traced the disturbance to the remote forest planet of D'Qar, where moonlight shimmered unnaturally across the terrain. The celestial anomaly caught his attention, as did the mortals below—a brave pilot and a Force-sensitive woman of prophetic lineage.
Khonshu had studied Poe ever since Heather had become his avatar. In many ways, the pilot reminded Khonshu of Marc Spector. Not only because of the uncanny resemblance Poe shared with Khonshu's previous avatar—no, it was Poe's mindset, his actions. The way he was resolute, always pushing forward with a quiet but unyielding confidence. Both men bore the weight of hardship, yet Poe carried a spark of light that Spector had long extinguished. There was something in Poe that Khonshu wanted to understand.
Khonshu had delved into Poe's past, uncovering a life marked by loss and hardship. Poe's mother, a pilot, had succumbed to a pilot's disease, and in his youth, he'd joined a group of spice smugglers, facing betrayal and physical scars—more threads of connection to Marc Spector. Yet Poe still stood tall, even with his grief. This intrigued Khonshu.
The moon god was determined to assess Poe's character. He was curious, but also purposeful. To ensure that Poe was worthy of Heather—regardless of the Force's decree. Khonshu had a plan to test Poe's limits, to probe his strength and weaknesses. He would push Poe to his breaking point, testing his resolve in ways no mortal could predict.
Khonshu hovered over Poe, his spectral form shimmering in the moonlight. The young pilot was unaware of the celestial being's presence, his mind preoccupied with the upcoming mission as he tinkered with his X-Wing's wiring.
Khonshu extended his power, threading a pulse of energy into the X-Wing's circuits. He watched dispassionately as sparks erupted. This was no random accident—this was a test. A test of the mortal's ability to adapt under pressure.
Poe muttered a curse as the system malfunctioned, diving into the chaos with practiced urgency. Khonshu watched intently. His focus, Khonshu noted, is razor-sharp. Each adjustment, each recalibration, revealed not just skill but an indomitable spirit—a trait Khonshu valued in his chosen. A trait that might be the key to understanding why the Force had linked these two souls together.
As Poe fought the malfunction, Khonshu's gaze sharpened, his assessment continuing. He watched with critical eyes as Poe managed to regain control over the X-Wing's systems. A minor victory, but a victory nonetheless. The moon god nodded in silent approval. The pilot was showing resilience—but Khonshu wasn't finished. Not yet.
After a few hours, Poe and his astromech droid, BB-8, had completed repairs to the X-Wing and decided to go on a test flight. Khonshu knew this would be the perfect opportunity to see how Poe would react in a true high-stakes situation.
As Poe and BB-8 took off into the sky, Khonshu followed them, his presence invisible yet palpable. He watched as Poe expertly maneuvered his X-Wing through the clouds. The skill was undeniable. But Khonshu's gaze narrowed. This was when the real test would begin.
With a wave of his hand, Khonshu unleashed a second surge of interference, disrupting the X-Wing's systems. It was not malice, but calculated chaos—a trial, a storm to test whether the pilot's mind could weather true disorder.
The X-Wing's systems buckled and went haywire, sending Poe, BB-8, and the starfighter into a perilous tailspin. Poe's heart pounded as he gripped the controls, fighting the gravitational forces, fighting the chaos itself. His instincts kicked in, honed by countless missions. He glanced at BB-8, who was frantically trying to fix the malfunctioning systems.
With a loud hum, BB-8's dome spun faster than usual, working with precision. Poe's eyes flicked to the display, tracking the astromech's progress as the droid worked frantically. The moment was tense—Poe's every breath an exercise in controlled panic.
Finally, with BB-8's assistance, the X-Wing leveled off. Poe let out a shaky breath, his heart still racing, though his hands were steady.
"Thanks, BB-8," Poe muttered under his breath. "Let's head back to base and figure out what went wrong."
BB-8 beeped affirmatively, and the two of them began their return to D'Qar. As they landed, Poe reflected on the test. He was grateful for BB-8's help, but something didn't sit right with him. The surge had been too much. Too... unexplained.
Khonshu watched from the shadows, his form unseen. As Poe and BB-8 disembarked, he continued to study them from afar. His observations were always meticulous, and he was impressed by Poe's ability to keep his composure.
"That was... intense," Poe murmured to BB-8. He knelt beside the droid. "You okay, buddy?"
BB-8 chirped reassuringly, and Poe smiled slightly, reaching down to pat the droid. His gaze, however, shifted upward. Something is off. Poe couldn't shake the feeling he was being watched.
Khonshu observed this quietly. Poe had the right instincts. The pilot was more attuned than the god had anticipated.
"That surge," Poe muttered aloud, "had to have something to do with the wiring. But everything seemed fine. Nothing damaged…"
BB-8 beeped softly, confirming Poe's observation, though both could sense that something didn't add up.
Khonshu's voice rumbled in Poe's mind, the words coming slow but deliberate, testing him. "Poe Dameron... you have passed the first test."
Poe jumped slightly, his heart racing for a moment as his mind tried to process the sudden, foreign voice. BB-8 rotated, sensing Poe's agitation, chirping with curiosity.
"Wh—?" Poe cut himself off, heart hammering. "Who's there?" He looked around, but saw nothing.
BB-8 beeped nervously, rolling closer to Poe, his sensors on high alert.
Khonshu, still cloaked in his spectral form, felt the mortal's hesitation. He lingered, watching. Poe wasn't easily shaken, and Khonshu approved of his composure.
The mortal is not weak, Khonshu noted. But I will test him further. I will push him. I need to understand why the Force has tied him to Heather.
Poe shook his head, trying to ignore the feeling that something far beyond him was lurking at the edge of his mind. His gaze shifted once again to the stars above.
BB-8 chirped a series of concerned beeps, but Poe sighed, "Thanks, buddy. We'll get through this." Yet even as he said it, the unease clung to him like a shadow.
Khonshu's silent gaze never wavered. As the pilot and droid went about their repairs, Khonshu dissolved into the night, his presence still lingering, waiting for the next trial.
Poe's thoughts were interrupted by the voice of Snap Wexley. "Hey, Poe, what's wrong with Black One? I saw that tailspin, and you had me worried for a little bit."
Poe looked up at his friend, brushing sweat from his brow. "Thanks, Snap. I'm not sure what happened. BB-8 and I were working on the wiring earlier. When I took it out for a test flight, something surged. I lost control for a moment, but we got it back under control."
"Let's get it checked out," Snap offered, his concern genuine.
Poe nodded, his unease about the unexplained surge lingering. "Yeah, maybe we missed something small. Appreciate the help."
Snap crouched next to Black One, running his fingers along the exposed wiring. "Strange... nothing seems out of place."
As Snap worked, Khonshu observed from the shadows, his spectral form cloaked in pale moonlight. The moon god's deep, resonant voice echoed faintly within Poe's mind: "How much do you trust him, pilot? Would he betray you if given the chance?"
Poe froze momentarily, his hand gripping the edge of the fuselage. The question sent a shiver down his spine.
Snap, noticing Poe's distraction, looked up. "You okay? You seem… off today."
"Yeah, I'm fine," Poe replied quickly, forcing a smile. "Just thinking about the mission."
Snap studied him for a moment before nodding. "Alright, but let me know if something's up." He returned to inspecting the wiring.
Khonshu leaned closer, his voice a whisper that coiled in Poe's mind like smoke. "He's your second, is he not? Would he stand by you if you faltered? Or does ambition stir in his heart?"
Poe scowled slightly, shaking his head as if to clear it. "You're ridiculous," he muttered under his breath, earning a curious chirp from BB-8.
"What was that?" Snap asked, glancing over.
"Nothing," Poe said quickly, waving it off.
Khonshu pressed further. "He could have tampered with the wiring earlier, you know. Perhaps he wanted to make you look reckless, compromised. You've felt it, haven't you? That whisper of doubt?"
The words burrowed into Poe's mind, unbidden and unwelcome. He glanced at Snap, who was still inspecting the X-Wing with meticulous care. Was it possible? Snap had been his closest ally since joining the Resistance. But Khonshu's words planted a seed of unease, a subtle crack in the foundation of trust.
"Found anything?" Poe asked, his voice sharper than he intended.
Snap looked up, startled. "Not yet. Why? You think I missed something?"
Poe hesitated, caught between instinct and the nagging voice in his head. "No, it's not that. I just—this whole thing doesn't add up." He forced a laugh, trying to mask his unease.
Snap frowned. "Look, I get it. Something like that tailspin can shake you up. But we'll figure it out, alright?"
"And if he doesn't?" Khonshu prodded, his voice like a blade against Poe's resolve.
Poe straightened, his jaw tightening. "I know we will."
Snap's concern deepened at Poe's tone, but he didn't press further. "Alright, I'll double-check the diagnostics just to be sure." He gave Poe a reassuring pat on the shoulder before walking back to his own X-Wing.
Alone again, Poe exhaled heavily, gripping the edge of the fuselage. "I trust Snap," he muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else.
"Do you?" Khonshu's voice was a phantom whisper, challenging and unyielding.
"Yes," Poe said firmly, his voice rising. BB-8 let out a worried beep, nudging his leg.
Poe knelt to meet the droid's gaze, offering a small smile. "I trust him, buddy. And I trust you." He looked skyward, addressing the unseen presence. "Whatever game you're playing, it won't work. Snap's my friend. My team's my family. You can't shake that."
From his celestial perch, Khonshu observed, a faint smile tugging at the edges of his beak-like visage. "Good," he rumbled, his voice low and approving. "Trust is a fragile thing, but yours is resolute. You've passed the second test, Poe Dameron."
Poe straightened, the whisper fading from his mind. He didn't know what this entity wanted from him, but he was determined to stand firm, for himself and his team.
Satisfied, Khonshu withdrew, his form dissolving into the moonlight. Yet his interest in the mortal remained, the puzzle of Poe Dameron and his connection to Heather drawing him deeper into their shared fate.