Suddenly, the glow from the holocron intensified. The runes flared, casting long shadows across the chamber walls. A figure began to take shape—hazy at first, like a flame seen through smoke.
Then, with a snap of clarity, the projection coalesced: a tall, imposing figure in ancient robes, eyes like burning coals, and a presence that pressed against Kai's mind like a storm.
"Who summons me?" the specter demanded, voice echoing with layered tones—some human, others distorted by time.
Kai didn't answer immediately. The name of the figure drifted to the surface of his thoughts, unbidden but clear: a Sith Lord of legend, a name whispered in the oldest shadows of the Jedi archives. Though the holocron didn't state it outright, Kai felt the truth deep in his bones—this was the one who had led armies, twisted empires, and vanished into the folds of history five thousand years ago.
The figure's gaze sharpened, as if sensing Kai's recognition.
"You are not of the Dark," it observed. "Yet you reach for what was hidden. Tell me, student of light—what is it you seek?"
Kai exhaled slowly, keeping his thoughts steady. "Understanding," he said at last. "I want to know the truth. The full truth. Not just what the Jedi chose to preserve."
The figure studied him, its form flickering slightly like a candle in a strong wind. "Many have come seeking power. You are... different. But curiosity can be just as dangerous."
"I'm not afraid," Kai said, though the pressure behind his eyes and chest told a different story.
"You should be." The projection drifted around him now, no longer stationary. "The truths I hold were buried not because they were lies, but because they were uncomfortable. Because they challenged the narrow lens of those who feared balance."
As it moved, images unfolded from the holocron—temples rising and crumbling, warriors in dark robes and golden armor, twin suns over crimson worlds, and battles waged with more than just blades.
Kai's mind reeled with fragments, some incomprehensible, others clearer: rituals, histories, the construction of weapons and philosophies meant to bind the Force to will.
The figure paused, standing once again before him. "You are not my disciple," it said. "And you will not become one. But knowledge... knowledge may yet be earned. If you endure."
Kai opened his eyes, staring up at the projection. "Then teach me."
The holocron pulsed once more, and the figure's voice dropped, almost thoughtful. "Very well, seeker. Let us begin with the truth of balance... and the lie of peace."
The air thickened with dark energy—not evil, not yet—but ancient and potent. And as the first true lesson began, Kai felt the Force ripple within him like never before.
Kai met the specter's gaze without flinching, though the weight of its presence pressed heavily on his mind.
"I seek understanding," he said. "The galaxy is changing again. The darkness isn't gone—it's just hiding. If I'm to face what's coming, I need to know what came before."
The Sith Lord's form crackled faintly, the edges of his projection flaring like embers in wind. He regarded Kai with something resembling curiosity.
"Many have sought my teachings to claim power. You ask for understanding. That is… rare."
Kai remained still, breathing steadily.
"I don't want to fall into the dark," he said. "But I won't turn away from its truths, either. There's more to the Force than light and shadow—there's history. Memory. Lessons lost to fear."
The specter's expression shifted, unreadable for a moment.
"Fear is a chain," it said. "But so is ignorance. If you would walk this path—know this: you cannot touch the dark without risk. It will know you. It will test you. And if you falter… it will claim you."
"I understand," Kai replied quietly. "But I'm not here to follow. I'm here to learn. To listen."
There was a silence then, thick and alive. The chamber seemed to hold its breath.
At last, the specter extended a hand—not to offer, but to reveal. Swirling glyphs and star maps appeared between them, shifting and rotating with eerie precision. The image of a forgotten temple flickered into view, carved into a cliffside on a world shrouded in mist.
"Then listen, student of light," the figure said. "And remember. For the war that is coming… began long before you were born."
The vision expanded—showing battles waged in forgotten systems, Jedi and Sith locked in ancient conflict. Then came a city swallowed by sand, a beacon of knowledge lost to time, and an artifact—small, crystalline, pulsating with a light that neither shimmered nor burned, but resonated.
Kai's heart pounded. He could feel its echo in his chest.
"This is your first lesson," the specter intoned. "All truth has a cost. All power leaves a wound. Choose wisely where you bleed."
Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the holocron dimmed. The figure faded, and the chamber fell into silence once more.
Kai sat alone in the dark, breath slow, mind reeling. His fingers brushed the warm crystal at his neck—no longer just a keepsake, but a key.
The Force shifted around him. The jungle rustled in the distance.
He rose to his feet.
The past had spoken.
Days had passed since Kai first conversed with the ancient presence housed within the Sith holocron. Now, he sat in the temple ruins with his legs folded beneath him, the holocron aglow before him, casting crimson light across the carved walls.
The spirit had introduced itself in fragments—never fully naming its identity, but through its stories, victories, and visions, Kai had pieced it together. Naga Sadow. A name buried in the deepest corners of Jedi archives. A Sith Lord of ancient power, once feared across the stars.
They spoke not through casual dialogue, but through trials of understanding. The holocron offered visions, riddles, and memories pulled from a time before the Republic. Kai meditated on each, piecing together their meanings, sifting wisdom from dogma, truth from manipulation.
He didn't trust it—not entirely. But neither did he reject it.
In the quiet of the temple, where jungle vines crept through broken stone and forgotten histories whispered in the Force, Kai began to study abilities most Jedi feared. Not to wield them, but to know them. To understand how such power corrupted so many.
He learned to touch the minds of nearby creatures—gently at first, calming birds, quieting beasts. Then deeper, learning to sense intent, fear, pain. He practiced pushing the Force through his body in bursts—heightening his speed, strengthening his strikes. These were techniques taught by both Jedi and Sith, but the holocron emphasized a different intent: dominance, control.
Kai resisted that impulse, holding fast to the lessons from Obi-Wan's holocron. Let the Force flow. Do not force it.
Still, there were darker techniques that intrigued him. The specter showed him how emotions could be harnessed—not just anger, but despair, fear, ambition. To wield them like a blade, to turn weakness into strength. And though Kai never acted on these teachings, he didn't turn away either.
He studied them. Understood their gravity.
And slowly, his perspective shifted. The Force wasn't a line between light and dark—it was a spectrum. And walking it meant knowing where each path led.
On the sixth night, while meditating before the holocron, the projection of Sadow reappeared, flickering like starlight through smoke.
"You begin to see," the Sith Lord said. "The Jedi feared what they could not control. They buried power, labeled it corruption. But you, seeker... you learn."
Kai looked up, calm. "I learn so I can choose."
The specter paused, unreadable.
"Then choose wisely. For each lesson takes you further. And one day, there will be no turning back."
Kai watched the specter fade, leaving only silence and the slow pulse of the Force.
He had not fallen.
But he was no longer blind to what lay beneath.