At a hidden asteroid base near the Qotile system, a large freighter touched down on the worn metal platform, its engines hissing as it powered down. The heavy doors groaned open, revealing a scene of lawless chaos.
The settlement within the asteroid was a den of outcasts, criminals, and those who had long abandoned the Republic's laws. Ragged banners hung from rusted walls, and makeshift structures lined the base, each one filled with traders, bounty hunters, and mercenaries seeking fortune beyond the reach of Coruscant's order.
A man stood at the entrance, arms crossed as he greeted the new arrivals. His voice carried a rough amusement.
"Welcome to a place under Stark Commercial Combine." His grin was as sharp as the blasters holstered at his sides. "Here, we take in the lawless, the desperate, and the ones who don't ask questions."
Among the newcomers, one figure stood apart.
Draped in a heavy cloak, his face was mostly obscured—save for a single portion, revealing only his piercing blue eyes. He blended in perfectly among the drifters and smugglers.
It was Jin-Woo.
As he walked through the lawless outpost, he opened his status window.
[Notification: Second Quest Assigned]
----------------------------------------------------------------
Quest Title: The Second Anchor
Description: Find a very durable Sith artifact, Jedi artifact, or any relic of immense power to further anchor yourself within the galaxy.
Choices of Artifacts:
-Yavin 4 Temple (Dark Side Nexus)
-Muur Talisman (Artifact of the Ancient Sith Lord Karness Muur)
-Ossus Jedi Holocron Vault (A hidden Jedi archive containing knowledge lost to time)
Reward: Unknown (Depends on the difficulty level within the Star Wars galaxy—the harder the artifact, the greater the reward.)
Defeat Condition: None.
Hidden Objectives: Unknown
Hidden Rewards: Unknown
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jin-Woo's eyes narrowed slightly.
This wasn't just about gaining power.
The more he anchored himself to the galaxy, the less resistance he would feel from its natural laws—no more restrictions, no more limitations.
He exhaled quietly, his thoughts running through his options.
Never thought I'd be using the Dark Side of the Forceto guide my way to hell.
The Dark Side wasn't just a tool—it was a force that demanded suffering from those who wielded it.
To an ordinary Force user, it was a path that devoured both mind and body, twisting them into something less than human.
But Jin-Woo was not ordinary. He is the 2nd Shadow Monarch.The darkness itself. The Lord of the Dead.
In His mind is measure his option .
"The Jedi Holocron vault… too fragile. It's not powerful enough to serve as an anchor."
"The Yavin 4 Temple… it's inhabited by Exar Kun. If I use my true Shadow Monarch form instead of just my Ashborn form, I might get kicked out of this galaxy entirely."
That left only one real option.
"The zombie talisman maker…"
The Muur Talisman.
A Sith artifact that could corrupt and transform living beings into mindless Rakghouls, bending them to the will of its wielder. A relic created by Karness Muur, a Sith Lord who had long sought to achieve his own form of immortality.
Jin-Woo lowered his gaze and looked around the black market surrounding him.
This place wasn't just a den of criminals—it was a fully operational illegal hub, bustling with trade far beyond the Republic's reach.
Everywhere he looked, there were vendors and dealers selling:
High-end blasters and disruptor rifles—weapons too dangerous for normal civilians.
Sith and Jedi relics, many of them fake, but some with genuine power hidden among the scams.
Personal starships and stolen Republic military vessels, stripped of identification codes.
Droid parts and cybernetics, including modifications meant for bounty hunters and mercenaries.
Black-market Force artifacts, their origins questionable at best.
Jin-Woo's blue eyes swept across the market, memorizing every detail.
If there was anywhere in the galaxy where he could find leads on the Muur Talisman… it was here.
He continued walking through the black-market stalls, his gaze flickering between various artifacts. Some vendors hawked supposedly ancient Jedi relics, while others displayed Sith trinkets, their dark energy weak and barely noticeable.
Annoyed by the constant intrusive whispers from the Dark Side, Jin-Woo finally decided to shut it off.
This so-called Dark Side guidance keeps suggesting the dumbest ideas…
With a single thought, he silenced the lingering suggestions, removing the distraction entirely.
His attention then turned to something far more interesting.
A Defender-class light corvette.
An old Republic ship, well-armed and sturdy—a relic of the past. From the outside, it looked perfectly fine, the hull clean, the structure intact. Yet, Jin-Woo felt something wrong about it.
A presence. A taint.
It wasn't overtly corrupted like a Sith warship, but there was something… off.
Jin-Woo had seen this kind of wrongness before.
"Where there's a plague, there's always a clue."
If he was lucky… this could be a jackpot.
He might have just found the Muur Talisman.
As he examined the ship, a grizzled man standing near it took notice. With a crooked grin, the seller leaned against a crate, rubbing his hands together.
"Eh? You eyein' this ship?" the man said, his tone casual. "You're lucky, pal. This one's sellin' for cheap—only 100—"
Before he could finish, Jin-Woo cut him off.
"Tell me the real reason this ship is being ignored," he said flatly. His voice was calm, yet carried an undeniable weight. "Even by newcomers."
The man fell silent.
His expression remained neutral, but Jin-Woo could sense it. The subtle shift in his breathing, the faint hesitation in his stance—he was hiding something.
Jin-Woo didn't wait.
With a flick of his fingers, an invisible grip tightened around the man's throat. The seller choked, his hands instinctively reaching for his neck as he struggled against the pressure.
Jin-Woo's blue eyes glowed coldly.
"Blink," Jin-Woo said, his tone unchanging. "If what I say is correct."
The man nodded rapidly, his eyes wide with fear.
Jin-Woo's grip loosened just enough to let him breathe.
"There's some kind of plague inside this ship, isn't there?"
The man blinked once.
Jin-Woo's expression didn't change.
"And there's some kind of ancient mutant inside it, right?" He exhaled slightly, then added, "Though I prefer to call them overrated zombies."
The man blinked again.
Jin-Woo stared at him for a moment before asking the last question.
"One more thing. Is there a stasis capsule inside this ship?"
The man froze for half a second before blinking rapidly—this time, nodding a few times along with it.
Jin-Woo finally released his grip, letting the man drop to his knees, gasping for air. Without a word, Jin-Woo pulled out 110,000 credits and tossed them onto the crate beside him.
"Buy yourself some clothes," Jin-Woo said, his tone indifferent. "And get out of here."
The man coughed a few times, rubbing his throat before looking up at Jin-Woo with an expression of pure disbelief.
"Are you trying to suicide?" he wheezed, his voice hoarse. "Even if you're a Jedi, you have no idea what's inside that ship."
Jin-Woo had already opened the hatch to the ship, stepping inside without hesitation. As the door sealed shut behind him, he turned his head slightly and spoke his parting words.
"Oh, I'm aware," he said, his voice calm, almost amused. "I'm very aware."
His blue eyes glowed faintly in the darkness.
"That's why what's so-called the Dark Side of the Force… will finally know fear."
The moment he stepped further into the ship, his suspicions were confirmed.
A low, guttural growl echoed through the metal halls.
Then—they appeared. Five Rakghouls.
Twisted, feral creatures—once living beings, now cursed monstrosities bound by the Muur Talisman's infection. Their deformed faces snarled, their clawed hands twitching as they charged at him.
Jin-Woo didn't even flinch. Before the creatures could reach him.
Beru emerged from Jin-Woo's shadow.
The towering insectoid warrior moved in an instant.
Limbs blurred. Claws flashed. Flesh tore.
In less than a second, all five Rakghouls were shredded apart. Their dismembered bodies hit the floor with wet thuds, blackened blood staining the corroded metal.
Beru loomed over the remains, his mandibles clicking as he growled.
"You dare disrespect my liege?" His voice was deep, filled with righteous fury. "You all need some edu—"
Jin-Woo tapped Beru's shoulder, cutting him off.
"Alright, Beru," he said casually. "That's enough."
He glanced around at the bloodied, twitching remains. "They're fucked now. No one remains."
Beru huffed, retracting his claws, though his mandibles still twitched in irritation.
Jin-Woo simply stepped over the corpses and moved deeper into the ship.
As he walked through the narrow corridors, his blue eyes scanned every room carefully.
Surprisingly, the ship was clean.
Aside from the rotting Rakghoul corpses, there was no sign of battle damage, no signs of a previous struggle. The halls were still intact, the consoles were functional, and the atmosphere was stable.
It was almost too clean.
Beru, still standing by his side, clicked his mandibles in irritation as he glanced at the fallen bodies.
"My liege, allow me to tear this—"
Jin-Woo raised a hand, cutting him off.
"I still need the ship to travel like a normal person in this galaxy," he said. His voice was calm, but there was a certain amusement in his tone. "There's a beauty in laying low."
Beru hesitated for a moment, then nodded reluctantly, retracting his claws.
At that moment, Igris stepped forward, emerging from the shadows as well.
His black armor gleamed dimly in the ship's emergency lighting as he surveyed the area.
"My liege," Igris said, his tone unwavering. "Is something missing?"
Jin-Woo stopped walking.
He looked around once more, his gaze narrowing.
Something wasn't right.
His eyes swept the walls, the floor, the corridors—everything was exactly as he expected.
Except for one thing.
"...Where is the stasis pod?"
That didn't make sense. If this ship was transporting something as valuable as a stasis pod—something that had been ignored, feared, and left untouched—then it wouldn't be out in the open.
"Which means it's hidden."
Jin-Woo closed his eyes, reaching out not with the Force, but with something far deeper.
His shadow stretched. Like ink bleeding into the cracks of reality, his presence seeped into every corner of the ship. Shadows slithered into vents, pooled beneath panels, spread across the walls—hunting.
Then, he felt it. A gap in reality.
A space that shouldn't exist—a void beneath the floor.
Jin-Woo's blue eyes snapped open.
"So that's where they hid you."
He stepped forward and knelt, pressing a hand against the metal plating.
From the outside, the floor looked perfectly normal. No seams, no hatches, nothing out of place.
But that was a lie. This place was wrapped in something powerful.
Jin-Woo could feel it now—a Force-based illusion.
It wasn't simply hidden. It was erased. To ordinary eyes, this part of the floor didn't exist.
To the Jedi, to the Sith, to scavengers and explorers alike—it was invisible.
"But I'm neither Jedi nor Sith."
Jin-Woo pushed his shadow deeper into the illusion. The darkness curled against it, probed at it—until it found a weakness. The moment he did, he tore it open.
A ripple passed through the air, like shattered glass reforming in reverse. The illusion peeled away, revealing what had been hidden beneath the ship's metal floor. A sealed compartment. And inside, a black, cylindrical device.
It was ancient—the metal plating engraved with forgotten Sith runes. A device built not just for containment, but for suppression.
Dreypa's Oubliette.
Jin-Woo's gaze flickered. He had read of such artifacts before—stasis prisons designed by the ancient Sith, used to imprison dangerous individuals in a near-death slumber for eternity.
And inside this one… There was a presence. Something—or someone—was still alive.
Retracting his shadows, he recalled his army back into the void beneath him. There was no need for them yet. With a single press of the button, the Oubliette hissed to life. Ancient mechanisms groaned as the prison pod rose from its hidden chamber, its engraved plating flickering with faint red warnings. Then, with a sharp metallic screech, the casket split open.
Cold air hissed out, and from within, a figure stirred. A woman. Her eyes snapped open, wide with confusion and panic. She inhaled sharply, her body tense, staring at him but seeing someone else.
"ZAYNEEE?!"
Her voice echoed in the silent ship, desperate and raw—but there was no answer. Her gaze darted around in confusion, her breaths uneven, until they finally settled on Jin-Woo. A man she did not recognize.
Jin-Woo exhaled lightly. For the first time since arriving in this galaxy, he spoke with genuine amusement. "Hey, you. You're finally awake."
The woman blinked, still dazed from centuries of slumber.
"You got betrayed by the Jedi, right?" he continued, tilting his head slightly, watching her reaction closely. "Not meeting Vader."
Before she could process the words, a voice rumbled from the shadows beneath him.
"My liege," Beru said, his tone completely serious. "Can I play Skyrim?"
Jin-Woo ignored Beru, his gaze locked onto the woman before him. He already knew her identity—
Celeste Morne, the holder of the Muur Talisman. She took a shaky breath, her body still adjusting to the sudden awakening. "How long have I slept…?"
Jin-Woo didn't hesitate. "The year is 13,956 GRS (Galactic Republic Standard). The Jedi Temple still stands. The politicians are still fat."
Celeste's eyes widened slightly, her fingers gripping the edge of the Oubliette as reality sank in. Thousands of years had passed.
Around her neck, the Muur Talisman pulsed faintly, its surface shifting like a living thing. The spirit of Karness Muur, trapped within the ancient artifact, had already begun to stir. Though silent, it could feel the power radiating from the man standing before Celeste. This was not a Jedi. This was not a Sith. This was something far worse.
For the first time in millennia, Karness Muur hesitated. The talisman pulsed again, the Sith Lord's instincts screaming for him to stay silent—to wait for the right moment to transfer hosts.
Jin-Woo's eyes flickered toward the artifact. "That talisman of yours…" he said, his tone unreadable. "Can you take it off on your own?"
Celeste Morne ignored the question, her weary yet sharp gaze locking onto him. "Are you a Sith?"
Jin-Woo smirked faintly. "I had a Sith Master once. A businessman."
Before she could process the strange answer, celeste morne ignited her lightsaber—a yellow blade humming to life, its golden glow cutting through the dim interior of the ship.
Without hesitation, Jin-Woo followed suit, activating Vectivus' lightsaber. A black blade roared to life, its dark energy crackling unnaturally against the air.
Their weapons clashed.
The ship's walls trembled as Celeste lunged forward, her strikes fast and precise—but Jin-Woo barely moved, deflecting each blow with effortless precision.
She gritted her teeth, pushing forward with a powerful arc, but Jin-Woo sidestepped, his movements fluid and unreadable.
"What kind of monster are you?" she spat, her voice tight with frustration. "You're darker than any Sith I've ever known!"
Jin-Woo didn't answer. Instead, he moved. Form I: Shii-Cho. A sweeping motion that forced her back. Form III: Soresu. A perfect defense, parrying every attempt she made to break through. Form V: Djem So. A counterattack, using her own momentum against her.
She barely had time to react before Jin-Woo shifted again, his blade moving with unreal speed and precision.
A flick of his wrist—her saber spun out of her grip, clattering onto the floor.
The fight was over before it even began.
Jin-Woo deactivated his lightsaber, taking a step forward as she stumbled back, breathing heavily.
"Let me rephrase that question," he said, his voice cold yet calm.
"Do you want to be free, or not, Celeste Morne?"
Celeste Morne breath hitched. "How… how do you know my name?"
Before Jin-Woo could answer, the Muur Talisman suddenly detached from her neck.
The artifact twitched unnaturally before it moved—scuttling across the floor like a spider.
Jin-Woo's eyes followed its erratic movements, his instincts sharpening.
It wasn't trying to latch onto him. It knew it couldn't. Instead, the talisman shifted its strategy.
A pulse of dark energy erupted from it, the air distorting as an unseen force expanded outward. The surroundings melted away, shifting into an unfamiliar landscape.
They had been transported.
The real world remained untouched. To anyone outside, Jin-Woo and Celeste still stood in the ship—unmoving.
But within their minds, within a space of accelerated thought and illusionary reality…
They now stood in Karness Muur's domain.
Jin-Woo exhaled, scanning his surroundings.
They were inside a colossal dome of mist, the sky above swirling with black and red energy. The very air crackled with Sith power, suffocating and absolute. Towering stone ruins surrounded them, twisted structures bearing ancient Sith inscriptions, as if they stood in a broken temple lost to time.
And at the center, seated upon a throne of dark obsidian, was Karness Muur himself.
In his own mental domain, he stood in full form. A Sith Lord adorned in dark c armor, his hollowed eyes burning with ancient malice. The talisman itself now floated beside him, like a chained beast waiting to be unleashed.
Karness Muur smiled, rising from his throne.
You are in my world now," he said, his voice reverberating through the air like a thousand whispering voices. "And here… I am abso—"
Before he could finish, the air around him collapsed.
A crushing force unlike anything this domain had ever witnessed pulled at him, dragging his entire form downward. The throne beneath him shattered instantly, reduced to dust as an invisible gravitational force yanked him forward.
Jin-Woo stood motionless. His Ruler's Authority had activated without fanfare—no grand gestures, no unnecessary movements.
Just a simple command. And Karness Muur was ripped from his own throne, his body slamming face-first into the ground, mere inches from Jin-Woo's boots.
The impact sent cracks spider-webbing across the black stone beneath them. The once-mighty Sith Lord let out a ragged breath, his crimson armor trembling from the sheer weight pressing him down.
Jin-Woo tilted his head slightly, staring down at the ancient Sith like a mere insect. His blue eyes gleamed coldly.
"You looking for falling credits?" he asked, his voice calm—too calm.