Yoda continued staring at the horizon, the gleaming arc of the Sundari dome casting long shadows in the afternoon sun.
"Can we still talk some more, Armored Man?" the Grandmaster asked softly, sensing the moment was thinning. "I can guess… you don't like the Jedi Order."
But before the final word fully left his lips—Jin-Woo was gone.
No sound. No ripple in the Force. Just… absence.
The air shimmered faintly for a second where he stood—nothing but silence, then a small static hum left in his place. A faint signature, untraceable to most, remained for only a breath.
Slipspace. Not teleportation. Not Force movement. Something else. Something more… alien.
Yoda exhaled slowly through his nose, turning back toward the palace with a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Man in a hurry… off to another mercenary job, perhaps," he muttered, amused.
Footsteps approached behind him.
Qui-Gon Jinn came to a slow stop beside the small Master, arms folded behind his back. "A mercenary who's more ruthless than any I've seen," he said. "The way he negotiated that beskar deal… brutal. But he stabilized Mandalore. Forty years of peace under Satine Kryze. No bloodshed. No invasion."
He paused.
"This man keeps his word, Master. But… he doesn't know forgiveness. Or restraint."
Yoda's eyes didn't leave the dome.
"Or maybe…" the old Jedi whispered, voice almost a breath, "he already is restraining himself. And what we saw today... that was already his limit."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The wind howled softly through the craggy cliffs of the abandoned Mandalorian mine—once dormant, long-forgotten… now reclaimed.
Jin-Woo stood at the edge of the shaft, arms crossed as he looked down into the dark hollow that had once fueled a thousand weapons of war. The silence was broken only by the hum of his system's voice—cold, calculated, ever vigilant.
"Suggestion added, Supreme Executor," Offensive Bias stated, voice echoing crisply through the neural link. "Shall I dispatch Sentinel Units to begin extraction procedures within designated mining zones?"
Jin-Woo answered without hesitation. "Proceed. Mine thirty percent. Transport it via Slipspace network to secure containment sites. I want full analytics. Composition, alloy quality, forging compatibility, reaction with Force-imbued elements. Everything."
"Affirmative."
A soft pulse resonated through the air as Offensive Bias activated the mining protocol.
Above the mine, four glowing circular slipspace gates tore themselves into existence—smooth, controlled. From them emerged shimmering black-and-purple Sentinel units, each levitating effortlessly, long mechanical limbs already unfolding. Lasers and scanning arrays activated with a soft hum, mapping every crevice and mineral vein within the vast underground complex.
"Scanning terrain… Subsurface structure integrity: 74%. Deep-core beskar vein detected. Coordinates locked. Beginning seismic stabilization."
From the gates, additional drones emerged—massive drill-claws rotating into position, supported by hovering cargo haulers ready to phase raw ore into containment.
"Slipspace relay established. All mined beskar will be routed to Vault Theta-3. Estimated yield: 30% of Mandalore's active beskar reserves. Projected refinement time: 2 hours, 47 minutes."
As the operation unfolded beneath his feet, Jin-Woo's visor shimmered faintly, watching live telemetry feed through his HUD.
"Show me prototype applications," he ordered.
"Understood. Initiating experimental pathways:" Offensive Bias continued. "Beskar-Forerunner alloy interface: viable. Conversion into Sentinel armor plating confirmed. Integration with Lightsaber-resistant tech: confirmed. Fusion with Shadow Essence: pending analysis. Testing deployment of Phase-Suppression Blades in progress."
The abandoned mine roared back to life—not with miners or workers, but with machines far beyond Mandalore's understanding. A new age of beskar had begun, forged not by Mandalorians… but by a shadow from another galaxy.
Jin-Woo simply stood there, still as stone, watching his empire of metal rise. The metallic hum of distant mining sentinels echoed through the canyon like a declaration of dominance. The veins of beskar deep beneath Mandalore were no longer just remnants of a warrior culture—they were his now. Claimed. Operational. Weaponized.
He exhaled through his nose, calm but satisfied, then opened his inventory with a flick of will, summoning forth the ancient Holocron of Cade Skywalker. A pulse of cyan light blinked from the artifact.
Without a word, Jin-Woo let his Shadow Monarch power engulf the holocron. It dissolved in dark mist, absorbed into his soul.
[Notification: Gained Two Force Abilities]
• Force Enrage
• Force Healing (Cade Skywalker Variant)
[Notification: Level Up x2]
.........
[SYSTEM STATUS – SYNCED UPDATE]
Name: Sung Jin-Woo
Alias : The Armored Man, Ashborn , joever bideney
Anchor Status: 2/4 (Second Anchor – The Dark Side Anchor)
Age: Unknown
Level: 18 (Jedi Rank: Low-Level Jedi Knight / Sith Rank: Low-Level Sith Warrior)
EXP: 0 / 700,000
Midichlorian Count: 50,000 (Second Anchor Realized)
Occupation: Unknown
Credits: 5,000,000
(Updated from Sith Shrine Loot)
[Battle Equipment]
Vectivus' Lightsaber – Black-colored blade (Black Kyber Crystal embedded)
• Proto-Didact Exoframe – Restrains True Power
• Sentinel Beam
• Cindershot
[AI Companions]
Offensive Bias –War Executor-Class AI
• Despondent Pyre – Secondary Monitor AI
.......................................
[Inventory]
Incomplete Starforge ×1
Holocrons of Sith Shrine (Still Being Analyzed)
Holocron: Ritual of Immortality
Blood Kyber Crystals ×30
Kaiburr Crystal Shard ×2 (Bound to Jin-Woo)
Sith Warblade
Sith Alchemy Relics
Other Sith Shrine Relics (Still Being Analyzed)
5× Gacha Vouchers
Zeta Halo Ownership
Revan's Armor and Mask
Companion Voucher ×1
Mantle's Approach Teleportation Voucher ×1
Full Kaiburr Crystal ×1 (Bound to Jin-Woo)
Blackstone Fortress Teleportation Voucher ×1
Darth Vitiate's Personal Holocron ×1
Custom Color Kyber Crystal ×1
Holocron of Nomi Sunrider
British Lostbelt Teleportation Voucher (Fate/Grand Order: English Lostbelt)
...........................…..
[Force Abilities]
Force Ghost
Force Phantom
Force Jump
Force Push / Pull
Force Telekinesis
Force Lightning
Force Throw
Force Choke
Force Drain
Mind Control / Manipulation
Mechu-Deru
Transfer Essence
Force Healing (Cade Skywalker version – advanced cellular regeneration, revival-grade)
Force Enrage (Rage-enhanced precision and brute power in 6 minutes )
Naga Sadow's: Battle Meditation / Projective Telepathy
Midi-chlorian Manipulation (Locked – requires 100,000 midichlorians)
..........................................
[Skills & Passive Abilities]
Master Swordsmanship
• Expert Marksmanship
• Adept Telekinetic Lightsaber Combat
• Sith Alchemy
• Skill – Muur Talisman
• Right to Claim Korriban as Throneworld
..........................................
[Titles]
Sigma – Boosts charisma and aura leadership, especially during crowd speech and political negotiation (Level: Adept)
• Endbringer of the Republic – Only affects Joever Bideney. Passive effect: induces fear across all factions except Abeloth
• I Am Armored Man – When using the exoframe unmasked, seen as a galactic hero. Strong diplomatic leverage with Jedi and Republic Senators (especially Ranulph Tarkin)
..........
Jin-Woo's grin lingered under the helmet as he closed his status window, the glow from the projection fading into the dusted shadows of the abandoned Mandalorian mine. The hum of the mining Sentinels echoed faintly below the surface, a growing industrial heart now pulsing beneath his boots.
"Offensive Bias," Jin-Woo said, voice calm but laced with a glint of mischief, "have you ever heard of Hulkbuster armor?"
"Clarification required," Offensive Bias responded. "What is Hulk? Query interpreted as reference to 'Brutes' from Covenant species? Clarify if applicable."
Jin-Woo let out a low chuckle, half amusement, half realization.
Right... halo galaxy only knows what's inside Halo and DC. Marvel doesn't even exist here. So when I say Hulk, it means nothing. And Yoda didn't fight me back in Sundari… probably because Qui-Gon was nearby. But in nine years...The Yinchorri UprisingThat's when it'll matter.
"Forget what I said," Jin-Woo finally replied. "Rename the project. Call it the 'Force-User Buster.' I'll guide you through the rest. Big armor, but not massive. Built to break Jedi."
"Affirmative," Offensive Bias acknowledged immediately. "Awaiting schematics and design protocols. Initiating blank frame draft under new designation: FORCE-USER BUSTER, Mark I."
Meanwhile, back in the Royal Palace Council Chamber in Sundari…
Tension simmered like a suppressed reactor.
Bo-Katan Kryze slammed her palm against the roundtable and snapped, "Jasteel, what in the name of the galaxy happened on Korda Six?! There's a new valley there! A crater bigger than the old trade post! And a massive pit that wasn't on any map!"
Across from her, Jango Fett leaned against the wall with arms folded, helmet off, one brow raised lazily.
"Shouldn't you just get over it?" he said dryly. "You lost. Death Watch is no longer under your command. It's under Jaster now. And we all agreed—Death Watch will support your sister for the next twenty years."
Bo-Katan scowled but said nothing, her hands tightening around the edge of the table.
Satine, for once looking more tired than regal, pressed two fingers to her temple and sighed. "Sister," she said gently, "could you please—just for today—not start a war inside this room? I have actual diplomacy to handle. Not just tradition and testosterone."
Bo-Katan leaned back in her chair with a scoff, muttering, "You say that like tradition didn't keep Mandalore from turning into another Taris."
Jaster, seated next to Jango, pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is why I preferred the battlefield. Less talking."
Bo-Katan's gaze flicked to the door.
"Where is that tin can anyway?" she muttered. "He's too damn quiet after throwing our entire system into chaos."
Suddenly, with a soft metallic hiss of opening doors, Pre Vizsla entered the chamber.
The atmosphere shifted instantly. Everyone in the room—even Jango and Jaster—sat a little straighter. A quiet tension hung in the air like a blade waiting to drop.
Bo-Katan immediately stepped forward, giving a subtle bow. "Pre Vizsla, sir."
Vizsla's helmet tucked beneath one arm, his expression unreadable as always. "We're the losing party right now," he said plainly, scanning the room. "Duchess Satine is—by contract and Republic blessing—the current leader of all Mandalorians."
Satine stood from her seat, slightly startled but composed. "Thank you, Pre Vizsla… for believing in my ideals."
Jaster didn't speak aloud, but a heavy thought drifted in his mind.
For twenty years, my Duchess. After that… they all become warmongers again.
Beside him,
Jango didn't look any more optimistic. His gaze remained fixed on Pre Vizsla, expression flat.
The Duchess is too naive sometimes. Sweet words from wolves… that's dangerous.
Pre Vizsla, still wearing that polite smile—tight, practiced, dishonest—tilted his head.
"As you wish, my Duchess. I shall follow."
He paused, his voice lowering ever so slightly. "But I do have a question…"
He stepped forward, placing a small holoprojector on the table. With a soft flicker, the image sprang to life—a live feed of a dozen Forerunner Sentinels cutting clean through raw beskar ore, sparks flying, drills humming, arms dissecting stone with terrifying precision.
"I was aware of the thirty percent deal," Vizsla said. "But no one told me he had droids like the Trade Federation. Mining drones… that move like they're slicing butter."
He looked up, calm on the surface. "That wasn't in the contract fine print, Duchess."
Bo-Katan and Satine both stared at the projection—then turned to each other, eyes wide.
"HE HAS?!" they said in unison, voices rising in disbelief.
Silence followed. The soft mechanical hum of the holofeed—the Forerunner drones cutting and grinding beskar with inhuman precision—filled the chamber like a quiet accusation.
Jango leaned back in his chair, arms folded, not bothering to hide his amusement.
Jaster exhaled slowly. "That's how he destroyed most of the Death Watch," he said flatly. "Those drones came down from the sky when your father ambushed us. Fast. Surgical. They pierced through beskar like paper."
Pre Vizsla nodded. "I'm aware. My men told me. Those things dropped like thunder… and tore through the battlefield." His tone was cool, restrained—but there was a glint in his eye. "They weren't just for killing never thought they could mine too ."
Suddenly, without looking, Pre Vizsla kicked Bo-Katan in the shin beneath the table. It wasn't hard, just enough to catch her attention. At the same time, his hand subtly flashed a gesture beneath his cloak—convince your sister. We need those drones.
Bo-Katan sighed in her head, That's my job now, huh… older sister diplomacy.
With a stiff sigh, she leaned forward and said—half forced, half persuasive, "My dear sister… maybe you should talk to the Armored Man. I mean—look at this. His tech's on another level. If we had access to just a portion of it, it could double our mining output. Maybe more. Think of it as… a fair exchange. He gets 30% of our beskar, sure, but we get twice as much yield."
Satine blinked, then smiled with that warm pacifist glow. "Bo is right. That businessman should understand the value of mutual benefit."
Bo-Katan's eye twitched. "Stop calling me Bo. That's your childhood nickname for me. We're not nine."
But Satine only raised an eyebrow, calm and cheeky. "Still suits you when you're trying to play nice."