Elysiar – Summit Chamber, Nexus Spire
The circular chamber was constructed of polished obsidian and light-infused crystal. Windows stretched from floor to ceiling, offering a sweeping view of Elysiar's glowing skyline. Beneath the shifting daylight, the city pulsed like a living being—alive with purpose, radiating potential.
At the head of the chamber stood Adam, flanked by Mara.
Across from them, Count Dooku and Alis stood apart—unified only by circumstance.
It was the first time the four stood in the same room.
And the silence between them was dense with calculation.
"Welcome to Elysiar," Adam said, his voice calm, firm. "I imagine you both have questions."
Dooku's eyes swept the chamber, his posture impeccable. "Indeed. Though I suspect answers here are not handed out freely."
Mara's gaze never left his. "Not when the questions come from men who hide their true intent."
Alis tilted her head slightly. "And yet you welcomed us."
"We did," Adam said. "Because the Force wanted you here. And this planet—this city—is part of something larger. It's not hidden anymore. And neither are we."
He stepped forward, arms at his sides. "Elysiar is not a stronghold. It's not a temple. It's a beacon. We built it with one goal—balance. Not inaction. Not neutrality. Balance. A place where light and dark aren't enemies. Where people can choose how they walk the path."
Dooku's expression didn't change, but the words landed.
"A bold ambition," he said. "The galaxy has a long memory. And a long history of crushing such idealism."
Mara folded her arms. "You didn't come all this way to mock idealism."
"No," he admitted. "I came because I felt something shift. A foundation beneath the Force moved. And I wanted to see what caused it."
Alis stepped forward then, her voice smooth. "The Nightsisters teach that every change begins with a ripple. This place... this world... is a tide."
Mara's eyes narrowed. "And what do you intend to do with that tide?"
Alis smiled faintly. "Understand it."
"And if it leads to power?"
"Then I will choose how to carry it."
Dooku didn't respond—but Adam could feel it. The weight of the man's thoughts. Calculated. Controlled. But not malicious.
Not yet.
Later – Observation Balcony
The conversation had shifted to lighter tones, guarded curiosities.
But the tension remained.
As Dooku and Alis stepped onto the balcony to take in the city, Mara lingered with Adam.
"They didn't lie," she said quietly.
"But they didn't tell the whole truth either," Adam finished.
Mara nodded. "Dooku's not a Jedi. Not anymore. But he's not Sith either. He's searching."
"And Alis?"
"She walks a path of instinct. Not doctrine. But she's not here to conquer."
Adam stared out at the city with them in it now. "We'll watch. Learn. Let them choose."
Elsewhere – Beneath a Shattered Moon
Wind howled across jagged stone.
The vault had once been a temple—long collapsed, half-consumed by ash and silence. Its walls whispered of ancient rites, buried beliefs, and a time before hyperspace lanes connected the galaxy.
At its center sat a man.
Still.
Breathing.
Alive.
The Force moved around him—not chaotic, not gentle, but attentive. As though it had chosen not just to awaken him, but to wait for him.
His hair was streaked with grey. His robes—ragged and ceremonial—carried markings lost to the modern era.
He stood slowly, one hand resting on a massive stone blade embedded in the earth. The air around it pulsed.
As his fingers brushed its hilt, visions flickered through the Force—battlefields drenched in history, the echo of Empires, both Jedi and Sith.
He gazed toward the stars.
"…it's not over yet," he whispered.
A piece of shattered armor nearby bore the insignia of a long-extinct Order—its edges faded, but the mark unmistakable:
A stylized dragon-like sigil, known to few in the present.
And fewer still would remember the name once spoken with reverence and fear—
"M..."
The wind swallowed the rest.