Timeframe: Hours after reaching the Heart of the Citadel
Setting: Inner Sanctum of the Keepers | The Vergence Core
The Door That Felt
Cain stood before a circular stone door etched with moving sigils—runes that shimmered between light and shadow, flickering in rhythm with his pulse.
Serra stepped beside him. "It's not locked."
"No," Cain said quietly. "It's aware."
Master Fay placed a hand on it. "This is the core vergence. The Keepers' greatest truths were stored within. Only those who understand both peace and passion may enter."
The door responded—not with a sound, but with acceptance—and opened.
Inside was emptiness.
But the Force vibrated with weight.
And then it appeared.
The Keeper Sentinel
A figure materialized in the center of the room.
Not solid. Not spectral. Something between.
Clad in a tattered robe of white and gray, with glowing silver eyes and a crystal at the center of its chest.
The voice echoed from nowhere and everywhere:
"You have trespassed upon sacred memory."
"You who carry doubt, fire, and vision—step forward and be measured."
The room pulsed.
Master Fay took a step—but the figure held up a hand.
"Only those who still live within the threshold of becoming may face this test."
"Padawan Cain. Padawan Serra. You stand at the edge of who you are and who you could become. Prove you are ready."
The Trial Begins – Without Blades
The Sentinel raised its hand—and the room changed.
The three stood now in a vast mirrored void, no ceiling, no floor. Each reflection showed not their appearance, but their inner truths.
Serra saw herself: angry, proud, respected—but afraid of failure. In one mirror, she struck down a captured foe. In another, she stood alone in a ruined battlefield.
Fay stood motionless, watching—but not interfering.
Cain stepped forward calmly.
"I accept the trial."
The Sentinel's voice replied:
"This is not a duel. It is recognition."
"Confront what you suppress. Confront what you fear."
The mirrors around Cain shimmered.
And one revealed:
—Himself, as a Jedi Master, alone, cold, revered but distant.
—Another showed him wielding black flame, leading an army not of Jedi, but followers.
—Another showed him choosing silence, watching his friends fall to preserve his secret.
Cain's breath slowed.
"I see them. But I am not bound to them."
"Then prove it," said the Sentinel. "Balance the flame within."
Scene 4: Serra Breaks—Then Mends
Serra's reflection showed her failure. Her fury. The fear of being second. Forgotten. Overlooked. In one mirror, she abandoned Cain to save her own life.
She staggered back.
"I… that's not me."
Cain reached for her hand.
"It could be. But it doesn't have to."
She turned to him, shaking.
"How do you stand so calm?"
"I'm not," Cain said. "I'm centered. Big difference."
He guided her back to herself—helped her breathe.
And slowly… her reflections dimmed. Balanced.
The Final Word
The Sentinel stepped closer to Cain now.
"You have seen others. Now see yourself."
Cain blinked—then fell into a vision.
The Vision of Tomorrow
It was fire.
Explosions.
Coruscant in ruins.
The Jedi Temple burning.
He saw Anakin Skywalker—kneeling before Palpatine in a dark chamber, face unscarred, black armor.
"I pledge myself to your teachings…"
Cain screamed his name—but Anakin didn't turn.
He saw Seris—struck down.
Derran—impaled.
Barriss—hiding in rubble.
Himself—burned, screaming, trying to stop Anakin and failing.
The Death Star above Dantooine.
The Yuuzhan Vong tearing through an unprepared Republic.
Millions dead. Again. Again. Again.
And then—silence.
He opened his eyes, tears stinging them.
The Sentinel stood still.
"You have changed small waves. But the river still flows to war."
"Until you confront the source—not the symptoms—this will come to pass."
Cain stood trembling.
But upright.
"I will. I am. I just… need more time."
The Gift and the Warning
The Sentinel stepped back, fading.
"Then you are the fulcrum. The voice between what was and what might be."
"We will not stop you. But the galaxy may try."
"Go. Remember. Build not a rebellion—but a refuge."
The light faded.
Only Cain, Serra, and Fay remained.
Aftermath and Reflection
Outside, as they exited the temple, Serra walked beside him, quiet.
"You saw it, didn't you?"
Cain nodded slowly.
"More than I ever wanted to."
Fay walked ahead but paused.
"You know now why I brought you," she said gently. "This path you want—it's older than the Temple itself. But it will cost you more than power. It will cost truth."
Cain looked toward the stars.
And in his Codex that night, he wrote:
Force Codex Entry – Log 005
Subject: The Fulcrum Vision
The Jedi Order will fall—not because it's weak, but because it refused to change.
Anakin doesn't fall because of anger. He falls because no one gave him permission to love.
I've saved moments. But until I repair the foundation, history will keep rewriting itself.
I need allies. I need trust. And I need to become something stronger than a Knight or a rebel.
I need to become a seed of balance.