Purpose: A Kylo Ren Tale

Two

"You're hard to find," says the deep, digitized voice.

"Who are you?" I ask calmly. Simply.

We're standing mere feet apart now. I do not feel fear - curiosity has taken the wheel in my mind. The need for answers is dwarfing all other feelings. My brain registers the saber on his belt, but somehow I know he will not reach for it.

Now that he's closer, I can take in his details. Leather hands rest at his sides, they're large and I silently wonder how many lives they've taken. He's only spoken four words but I can sense it, rolling off of him. This is a man who has killed with his bare hands. Has watched the light leave someone's eyes, up close. I think of my own hands.

Much smaller.

Just as deadly.

I also get a closer inspection of his mask, which he hasn't removed before starting this conversation. I wonder to myself- Why the mystery? What reasons would someone have for hiding their face? He shields himself behind black and silver, and a crackling voice modulator. Designed to be intimidating. But not to me. I do not fear death, or cloaked men in masks.

I am strong. I ask again.

"Who are you?"

"The tugging at the other end of the thread," says an unmodified voice. But the smooth baritone didn't ring out loud. The voice was in my head. As clear as if he was standing just behind my shoulder, whispering sweet nothings in my ear.

I have spent so much time and energy begging and pleading for guidance. And now finally, in front of me stands a Force user- that's clear from the sudden mental intrusion. The first of my kind that I've ever met.

Noting that the voice in my head is what's lying just below the surface of the digital effect, I wish he'd take off the mask. His true voice is much more appealing, even if his face is unpleasant. I assume this is why he continues to stay masked even though I'm positive he can tell I'm unafraid.

"Why have you been searching for me?" I ask.

He pauses for a moment. Choosing his words carefully.

"I could sense it - your cries out into The Force. Begging to be heard. Longing for purpose. Desperate for connection. So I reached out, and found one end of a thread. And I've been trying to find the other end ever since," he says in a measured, intentional pace.

He continues, but my mind slows time. It feels like full minutes in between words, and it gives me space to read his emotions thoroughly as he says, "I can give you purpose."

I then use my favorite Force trick: visualizing emotions. I need to know what his intentions are. Is this a ruse?

Ever since I was a small child, I've been able to register emotions as colors. Almost like tendrils of smoke rippling off of someone, hues changing here and there depending on emotional response. A visual extension of The Force. I don't see it constantly, but when I focus on someone directly I can read their colors.

I slow down time (or rather, my reactions are so lightning fast that to me it feels like time has slowed) and I read this masked man while he speaks.

"I can give you purpose," slowly flows out of his distorted voice modulator, but his emotions ripple out of him like thick waves of incense.

A wisp of silver, for honesty. He truly believes he can give me purpose. Okay. Lots of blood red, for anger. But something tells me this isn't directed at me, he's just always brimming with it. A brighter shade of red, for lust. It practically radiates off of him, the sexual dominance. And black, for darkness. So much black, swirling around the reds and hints of silver. It's an interesting mix. One that should frighten me.

But the overwhelming feeling I get from him:

Power.

Time is moving at a normal rate again. I blink and the heady pools of invisible smoke disappear.

"Why would I follow a stranger?" I ask.

"You need a teacher," the mask replies.

"And why you? Who are you to know the unknowns?" My brain has gone through a million questions since he touched down. I sense that he's being patient with me.

But why? What does he want from me?
Why me? Why now?

"Your thoughts are very loud," whispers his unfiltered voice in my mind. "You have untapped potential. Power beneath your fingertips. I want to show you the ways of The Force. Show you how strong you can be."

"I am already strong," I state defiantly.

Finally something comes out of my mouth that doesn't end in a question mark. But I don't like being made to feel fragile, and I have an overwhelming need to challenge him.

I am not weak, I mentally lob back at the ghoul.

"I never said you were," he finally snaps from beneath the mask. He levels his voice. "But I can show you unimaginable things. I know you sense my power, I feel your envy, it's thick in the air. This is everything you've ever wanted. A direction. A purpose."

He isn't wrong.

"The Supreme Leader is wise. He helped guide me on my search for you, once your Force signature was felt. He knows you can be an asset. Join me."

His voice is cold through the voice modulator. But in his tone I can hear the genuine want, need, for me to join him.

I find myself asking, once again-

"Who are you?"

But his last statement has already told me all I need to know. There have been whispers, rumors shared in the back alleys I've frequented during my travels. Folklore of a dark shadow working for Supreme Leader Snoke, leaving terror in his wake. I now know for certain that the man before me, the expressionless mask looking down upon me, is The First Order's number one weapon.

"You have many questions, but already hold many answers," the deep voice drawls in my mind.

The leather hands at his side slowly move, and I finally wonder if my life is in any danger. But instead of reaching towards me, he's reaching towards himself. Up to the bottom of his mask, which he now holds on both sides. There's a clicking sound as his thumbs hit the release, a hiss when the seal is broken, and then silence.

Time is moving slow again, and I'm not even doing it on purpose now.

Strong hands lift the metal mask, and he bends forward slightly to pull it off completely. A mess of dark hair tumbles out, and a gloved hand runs through his locks, pushing it out of the face that turns to me slowly. Our eyes connect and I'm swimming in chocolate amber. He stands upright. Fierce hazel eyes stare down at me. Waiting.

I take a moment to inspect the rest of his face. I had assumed the mask was to instill fear in the weak. But that's the only correct guess I have made. I wasn't looking upon an old man covered in battle scars, or a disfigured alien with grotesque features. No, it couldn't be any more opposite.

A young man stared back at me intensely. Human. Sharp chiseled features. Soft skin flecked with birthmark constellations. Full lips pulled into a straight line, with a strong set jaw.

I ask one more question, but I already know the answer.

"You're Kylo Ren?"