CHAPTER SUMMARY: Kylo Ren manages the fallout from the Knights' attack but learns of something worse.
The command shuttle glides out of the port, black wings spreading like a bird of prey. A handful of technicians watch as it becomes an outline, obscured by the blackness of space. It moves stealthily, a shadow in the midst of dull stars.
Then, there's a flare of orange, and it's gone.
The shuttle rips through a swirling tunnel of bluish-white light, at once beautiful and terrifying. It's like barreling through infinity, losing all sense of beginning and end.
But Kylo sees none of it.
He's cooped up in the conference room, pacing from one end to the other. He knows he should go to his quarters, try to sleep, but his mind is at lightspeed, feverish with planning and review.
Right now, he's obsessively analyzing how long it will take before the leadership realizes he's left the Supremacy. As far as they know, he's gone to sleep and will be up for a meeting at 0600. He arranged for take-off during a shift change so the port would be sparsely populated, entered through a service elevator. He counted six technicians, all busy, but he's sure they noticed him. Whispers will spread, a dozen theories about why he's left, but they shouldn't make it to the generals until it's too late.
He brings a hand to his jaw, reviewing the next steps. The first thing he'll do is get Starkiller off the grid, then pick up Sylas. Next, he'll head to the armories in unknown regions, wait out the chaos of the miscommunications and lockdowns he initiated. By the time the dust settles, Hux will realize he won the battle but lost the war.
Because no matter how much of the First Order Hux controls, as long as Kylo has Starkiller, he has the upper hand. His firepower will outmatch Hux's a hundred to one, and everyone will know it. They'll know that any so-called "civil war" will be a bloodbath, and whatever loyalty Hux has managed to wrench from those who hate him will sour at the prospect of a swift and merciless death.
Though Kylo very much hopes it doesn't come to that.
He sighs, slowing to a stop. He stares blankly at the console, soft flashing reflecting in his eyes.
Then, he pulls a chair from the table, lowering. He's so numb, he's hardly aware of the movement.
Part of him is still in denial. There's that needling voice— Maybe he's overreacting, letting paranoia get the best of him.
But a deeper part of him knows, sensed it the moment he got back from Osean. Most couldn't hold his gaze for more than a second. A few were good at putting on a show, though he saw right through it. General Voigt was the real tell, outwardly detached but sick with fear and resentment.
That's when Kylo knew Hux was making his move.
Once the realization hit, he whipped into action, continuing with his schedule but taking every spare second to initiate lockdowns, scramble communications, send out conflicting orders. He's had a lot of time to prepare for this, lying awake at night thinking about what he would do if Hux ever crossed the line. This will slow him down, strain fragile alliances with the generals who hate him. Once men like Voigt and Kas realize they're on the losing side, they'll come crawling back, begging for forgiveness. Kylo just has to get control of Starkiller...
He leans over the table, activating the nav chart.
Forty minutes until arrival.
He sits back, his mind racing through plans and contingencies. He keeps going over it again and again, imagining different scenarios, trying to account for all possible outcomes.
But soon, his mind slows like an engine running out of fuel. Exhaustion sets in, seeping into his muscles, his bones. He hasn't had a full night of sleep in days, only a couple of hours here and there by Rey's bed, and he hasn't slept at all since—
He goes cold. Everything in him seems to stop, his breath, his blood, his heart. For the first time it hits him, really hits him.
He's lost it all. Everything that matters, the First Order, Rey, their destiny...
He bristles, shaking his head.
No. It's not over yet. If he can outmaneuver Hux, the First Order can still be his, even more than it was before now that he finally has cause to throw that idiot and his lapdogs out. This could be a good thing, really, a chance to strengthen his authority.
Kylo nods to himself, his face hard and determined.
But there's still that coldness. He can't get rid of it, the gnawing fear that this is the end, the end of everything.
And it's his own damn fault. If he'd just left Osean after the Knights attacked, let Rey's little Resistance friend take care of her, he wouldn't be here right now.
But no. He stayed. Even after he knew she'd live, he stayed. He cancelled his appointments, ignored comm requests, stopped monitoring the generals. And of course, despite official reports that the Knights had turned on one of their own, rumors spread that it was the Chainbreaker they'd attacked.
Hux got exactly what he needed— a scandal with two full days to take advantage of it.
Kylo sinks, closing his eyes.
In an instant, the image flashes, Rey collapsing to the floor, her body wracked with sobs.
He snaps up, a cold stab in his heart. He tries to focus on the console, the soft flashing of data.
But the scenes play anyway, the images, the words, the feelings.
He sees Rey broken and bloodied on the floor, surrounded by the monsters he created.
He sees her suspended in a bacta tank, bruised and pale as a corpse.
He sees her eyes flutter open, her soft smile when she saw his face.
But mostly he sees that final moment, the hurt and the anger, the eerie calm in her voice— "You will always be a monster."
His throat tightens.
It's like he's still there. He's still in that room, experiencing it over and over again.
He thought he knew pain. He thought he was well-versed in all its nuances, every twist and cut. But today, he discovered something new, something deep and visceral. It's the kind of hurt that only comes from laying your vulnerabilities bare, all the tender, sensitive parts of yourself, only to watch as they're set to flame.
And it wasn't just his pain. It was hers too. He experienced all of it, the way she just fell apart. She couldn't even stand. She could barely hold herself up. He still sees her on the floor, eyes squeezed shut, whimpering— "But I trusted you."
He was shocked. He hadn't expected it. He'd played the fight in his mind a thousand times, so many different versions, but in each one she was always angry, red-faced with fury and condemnation.
He never saw her legs give out from under her. He never saw her crawl away from him. He never imagined her insides screaming, her heart breaking.
He hurt her. He hurt her in ways he didn't know was possible.
He closes his eyes, giving himself over to the pain, a living memory.
What if he had known? What if he had known when he put that tracker in her body what it would do to her? Would he make the same choice?
The question is rhetorical.
Of course, he would. He would do it again and so much worse, whatever it took to keep her alive. Even if she hates him, even if she never forgives him, he can live with that because the alternative is unacceptable.
He opens his eyes, nodding.
No. He doesn't have any regrets. He's always been to one to make hard sacrifices, become the villain in others' eyes to serve the greater good. It's his strength and his curse, to have the will to do what is necessary.
Maybe one day Rey will see that. Maybe one day she'll grow that strength for herself.
Without thinking, he moves a hand to folds of fabric at his side. He feels it there, the hard, angular shape. It's so small, smaller than he expected, but it suits her.
He found it not long after Bandomeer. They'd already mined what they needed for Starkiller, but he kept sending out teams to search for more deposits, determined to find it.
And he did. He knew it was there the moment he stepped foot in the cave, a soft song calling like wind. He kept it safe on the Supremacy, waiting for the right time to give it to her.
Now, who knows when that will be...
He slips his hand into the folds, pulling out the crystal. It's bluish-white and murky with weathered edges like it's seen a million sandstorms. If he concentrates, he can start to hear it, faint at first but growing more distinct. The song is different than it was in the cave, less a gentle wind, more a tempest. It seems to know he's not its true master, angrily calling for Rey.
He runs a thumb along the dull angles, drawn into its murky depths.
He jerks up at the sound of a loud buzz. The comm built into the console is flashing, indicating an urgent message.
Damn it.
He glares at the comm. For a moment, he considers not answering, but what good would it do? Clearly, they know he's left the Supremacy. He pushes out an exhale, rising and charging to the device.
"Supreme Leader?" A voice crackles when he activates it. "Supreme Leader, are you there?"
Kylo sets his jaw.
"I have a code red for Supreme Leader. Do you know where he is?"
"What is it?" He demands curtly.
"Sir! I'm sorry for the delay. We would've contacted you sooner but—"
"What is it?"
"Sir, there's been a breach at the facility on Nixor. An intruder broke in and entered the command center. Data's been stolen but we're not sure how much. The commander is still—"
"Why was the failsafe not initiated?"
"Well, sir..." The man hesitates. "The failsafe couldn't be initiated because the intruder was on the No Kill/No Injury list."
Kylo knits his eyebrows. It takes a second for this to register.
Then, his blood runs cold.
"It only happened an hour ago, so we're still gathering reports, but the sergeant on duty claims that the intruder..." The man pauses. "The intruder was the Chainbreaker, sir."
Kylo's face drains of color.
"Sir...? Sir, are you there?"
Kylo gapes dumbly.
"Sir, can you hear me?"
In an instant, he smashes a fist into the comm.
"Sir...?" The voice is distorted now.
He smashes it again and again and again, punching until it's nothing but twisted metal and exposed wires. He doesn't stop, even when his knuckles become bloodied and broken, punching harder, faster, until the entire console flickers, then goes dead.
He steps back from the counter, sweat pouring over his face. He looks down to find his glove in tatters, his knuckles mangled and exposed.
It's over. It's all over. His reign, his legacy...
He stares at his trembling hand, not really seeing it. It's like he's not in his own body.
Which is why he doesn't feel it at first, the warmth gathering in his core. He only becomes aware of it when it stretches up and out, flowing through his limbs.
He clenches his fist, shocks of pain shooting through his hand. The warmth rises and with it his rage, hot blood ripping through his veins.
Then, she's behind him. The room is full of her.
He doesn't move. For a minute, there's nothing but intermittent crackles from the broken console.
Then, he hears the scrape of a chair, her clothes rustling as she takes a seat.
She doesn't say a word. He can hardly hear her breathe.
He turns, fists clenched and trembling.
Rey's sitting casually, her hair mussed and covered in twigs like she's been in a forest. She's staring at the back wall, ignoring him.
"You..." Kylo lifts a finger. "Have no idea what you've done."
Rey doesn't react. She doesn't even look at him.
He steps forward, trying to catch her eye. She's feigning nonchalance, but he can sense she's immensely pleased with herself. He charges to the table and stops, looming over her. "You do realize you just confirmed the rumors for the entire galaxy."
She crosses her legs, unfazed.
It's all he can do not to jerk the chair out from under her.
"I don't know what you're talking about." She brushes off her pants. "I simply corrected an imbalance."
"Imbalance?"
"Yes." She looks up. "I'm sure you're familiar with the concept of information asymmetry. You've been at it for a year, putting a spy in the Resistance, using our friends against us, putting a tracker on my ship and then in my body. You've been gathering all kinds of intel. It was high time someone even the scales."
"You just destroyed my leadership!"
"I did nothing of the sort."
"You announced to the entire First Order that the rumors from Bandomeer are true!"
"No, I didn't." She shakes her head. "I just took some information."
"Don't play dumb." He grits his teeth. "You know exactly what you did."
"And what did I do, Ben?" There's a smirk in her eyes. "Tell me."
"Stop it." His blood boils. "Stop pretending like you didn't walk into that facility knowing full well that every person there wouldn't lay a hand on you because your tracker—"
"Oh!" Rey sits up. "You mean the tracker that you put in my body, the one you programmed to show I'm untouchable, the one you told me nothing about? That tracker?" She cocks her head.
He glares at her.
"I don't know, Ben." She tsks. "This really seems more like your fault."
He fumes.
"And if you think about it, I didn't do anything you wouldn't do. I simply used the resources at my disposal to take something I wanted, to take control. You'd think you'd be proud of me for following your example."
"I wouldn't throw this galaxy into chaos for personal revenge like a vindictive child!"
She snorts. "Yes, because your scourge under Snoke was all about your political viewpoints and not your hatred of Skywalker."
His face turns red.
"Now, now, don't be angry." She sits back. "The truth is hard, but you have to face it sometime, and the fact is you're the reason the First Order knows the truth about us now. So, if you're looking for someone to blame, look no further than yourself."
His jaw drops. "Y-you..." He can barely form words. "Do not think through your actions. You do not consider consequences beyond your own nose. Do you not understand what this means?"
"What?" She shrugs. "That rumors half the galaxy believes anyway are all but fact now? People are already talking about Osean. Compared to that, this is the lesser scandal."
"Not to the First Order, Rey!" He leans down, getting in her face. "As far as the leadership is concerned, you just confirmed everything Hux has been saying about my collusion with the Resistance, and you did it in a way that makes me directly responsible for a major breach in security. You have ruined me and put the power directly in Hux's hands!"
Her face falls. "No..." She shakes her head. "No. The galaxy loves you. They love the idea of us being together. If anything, the rumors being confirmed will just make you more popular."
"You think the First Order leadership gives a shit about what the galaxy thinks!?" He roars. "We're an authoritarian government, Rey! The only thing that matters is the authority of the sovereign and you just destroyed it! Here's what's going to happen next." He jerks out a chair and throws himself onto it. "Hux will turn all the generals against me, then use them to consolidate power over the First Order's resources— the troops, the ships, the weapons. Once it's done, he'll declare himself the Supreme Leader and take one guess what he'll do next."
Rey goes white. Kylo watches her work through the realization, cycling quickly to fear.
"You just started a war." He leans in. "And believe me when I tell you the Resistance better batten down the hatches because Hux's response will be swift and merciless."
She looks away, eyes wide.
"You really didn't think this through, did you? You didn't think about anything but wanting to hurt me."
"I-I..." She stammers. "I didn't do this to hurt you."
"BULLSHIT!" He shoots out of his chair. "That's exactly why you did it, and don't pretend otherwise. You are a child and a fool."
"I'm the fool!? You're the one who put me on some First Order protection list, so take some responsibility, Ben." She shoots up. "This is your fault as much as it is mine. This never would've happened if you hadn't put that tracker—"
"THAT TRACKER SAVED YOUR LIFE!" He explodes. "If not for that tracker you'd be dead, and now you're punishing me for trying to protect you!"
"DON'T!" She sticks a finger in his face. "Don't start with that lie about protecting me when we both know it was about more than that."
"WHAT!? Rey, that tracker was about nothing but keeping you safe."
"Is that right?" She steps in, eyes like lasers. "Then tell me something, Ben. How often did you check the data from the tracker?"
He stiffens.
"Was it monthly? Weekly? Daily?"
He stares at her.
"You could look through the history and see data on my vitals, yes? Tell whether I'd been fighting or sleeping or having sex?"
His eyes flicker.
"Look at me and tell me you never checked the history just to see where I'd been or what I'd been doing."
He struggles to maintain eye contact.
"Tell me you never checked the tracker for any reason other than to protect me."
He looks away.
"Sure." She hardens. "That tracker was about keeping me safe. It wasn't at all about spying on me or trying to control me."
"I never acted on any of that information, Rey."
"Well, that makes it all ok then, doesn't it?" She hisses. "It doesn't matter that you lied to me or kept track of my activities without my consent because you never acted on it."
"There's nothing wrong with watching over someone you care about."
"You!" She sucks in a breath. "Are unbelievable! You really don't see anything wrong with what you did— not in lying to me, not in violating me, not in twisting all of it as my fault!"
"I would've never had to lie to you if I could trust you to make smart choices and take care of yourself, but you have shown again and again that you're willing to put your life on the line for nothing."
"Ben, it is my life! Mine! You don't get to control whether I live or die, and if I decide that there's something worth risking my life for or even sacrificing my life for, that is my decision, not yours!"
"You're just proving my point." He leans in. "One day you're going to look back on the things you thought were worth throwing your life away for, and you're going to realize that if you'd been in my position, you would've done the exact same thing."
"I would never violate someone's privacy, and If I thought I couldn't trust someone, I would talk to them and wouldn't do anything without their consent."
"Right, like you told my mother about us after I expressly asked you not to."
"I apologized for that, Ben! I admitted I was wrong and asked for your forgiveness. I didn't make excuses, and I learned my lesson. I learned there is never a good reason to lie to someone you love."
"Is that right?" He cocks his head. "We'll see, then. We'll see what you do when someone you love is at risk of death, and you can stop it, but you have to cross some lines to do it. We'll what happens to all your self-righteous moralizing."
She sets her jaw.
He straightens, black eyes piercing.
"This," she spits out the word. "The fact that you you've crossed so many lines that you can't tell right from wrong. The fact that you don't want to see any other way than you do right now. This is the reason..." Her lips tremble. "That I can't, Ben. I just can't. I can't do this anymore."
Something in him goes cold.
"I love you, but..." A tear slips down her cheek. "I can't be with a man who lies and sees nothing wrong in it, who can find a way to rationalize any wrong as a right. And it's not just us; it's everything. It's Starkiller. It's the First Order. It's your mother. It's the fact that you refuse to heal or face your past. It's the fact that you don't care when you hurt yourself or others. It's the fact that you violated me and didn't even..." Her voice breaks. "Didn't even apologize or understand how much..." She squeezes her eyes shut. "How much you hurt me."
His face falls. He watches Rey wrap her arms around herself, tears spilling over her cheeks. He can feel her heart wrenching, cruel shocks of pain shooting through her. He lifts a hand on instinct, reaching for her cheek.
She instantly cringes, stepping back.
A little part of him dies. "Rey..." He swallows thickly. "I do know how much I hurt you. Of course, I know."
She looks up, guarded.
"And I'm sorry. You have no idea how much. There is nothing I hate more than causing you pain. Nothing."
She softens.
"And... I'm sorry I lied."
A spark lights in her eyes.
He descends, his face hovering above hers. "But I would do it again."
The spark dies.
"If I could go back, I wouldn't change a thing because if I did, you'd be dead right now."
She sucks in a breath.
"I would put that tracker in your body, and I wouldn't ask first because I know exactly what you'd say. And I know that crosses a line but there are some lines that are worth crossing. Doing what is necessary means making hard choices, Rey, and if that makes me a monster, then so be it."
Her jaw drops. "You really don't see, do you? You really don't see what you've done, to me or anyone else, all those hard choices you've made in your life?"
He just stares.
"You think about all the lines you've crossed— the people you've killed, the lives you've destroyed— and you wouldn't change any of it because it was all worth it, all necessary, right?"
He flinches inwardly.
"Or maybe you do see." Her eyes search his. "At least part of you does. But you don't listen to that part. You don't admit that what you think here..." She points to his head. "Doesn't match what you feel here." She presses his heart.
He hardens, his face a mask.
She drops her hand, eyes locked on his. They're standing just an inch apart, yet the more they look at each other, the more a cavern seems to open up between them. Long seconds pass and neither of them move, neither of them speak. A strange calm descends, cold and heartbreaking. There's something about it that reminds him of being on the first Starkiller, gazing at her across a crumbling rift, frozen skin burned from the heat of her blade.
And in that moment, they both feel it.
They're back on Starkiller, back in the throne room, clashing so forcefully that the world splits around them. They're back to where they started like they were destined to be here all along.
Rey steps back, eyes glistening. She doesn't look away, even when tears start to trickle down her cheeks and along her jaw. It burns to look at her, to know she's out of reach even when she's right in front of him.
She turns away, walking to the back wall. She stops, hugging her arms around herself. The pain is numbing.
Kylo turns slowly. He takes one step, then another, moving absently to the console. He doesn't feel a thing when he removes his glove, leather scraping over bloodied knuckles.
The room falls silent except for the sound of the ship travelling at lightspeed. Neither of them move, long minutes passing as they stand in opposite corners.
When the numbness fades, the first thing he feels is cold. He rests his hands on the counter, eyes hollow.
It's over. Truly over. Rey. His reign. His destiny. Everything his life's been building to, everything he's sacrificed, everything he's meant to be... It's all lost.
He stares at the broken console, his mind drifting to Hux and the generals, the effect Rey's attack will have their mutiny. He'd planned on chaos in the transfer of power, strains on their fragile alliance, but Hux's grip will tighten in light of Rey's attack and Kylo's part in it. It will fan the flames of fear and suspicion, all the lies Hux has been spouting about Kylo's conspiracy with the Resistance.
In the generals' eyes, Hux will become the true sovereign, the righteous prophet. Even if Kylo gets Starkiller, he'll have lost whatever semblance of authority he had left, which means that there will be war. There's no way around it. He'll have to use the weapon, and the fallout will be catastrophic, innocent systems caught in the crossfire. The conflict will rip the galaxy apart, billions of lives blasted into the silence of space. It'll be the darkest stain in millennia of anarchy and bloodshed...
This will be his legacy. This will be what he's remembered for.
Kylo leans into the counter, sharp pains shooting up his arm. He looks down at his wounded hand, lifting it. He stares a moment, then closes his fist, clenching. His mangled knuckles scream, and he clenches tighter, welcoming the sensation. The pain distracts from the despair, rekindling his rage.
She did this to him. She destroyed him.
He lied to her, he hurt her, but she took everything he's worked for and set it to flame. He'd be comforted by the fact that she didn't fully understand what she was doing if he wasn't so dumbstruck.
And he once believed this girl was ready to rule the galaxy with him...?
She started a damn war without realizing it. An idea popped in her head, and she acted on it without thinking like she always does— no thought to the larger consequences, no thought to the bigger picture. She destroyed him and threw the whole galaxy off balance, all for petty revenge...
He twists around, glaring at her.
She's facing the back wall, silent but not still. She's tilting her head, the base of her palm at her ear. She leans into it a moment, then drops her hand. Now that he's focused on her, he can sense the irritation pricking under her skin. She crosses her arms, but a moment later she brings her hand to her ear again, sticking a finger in and wiggling.
Kylo turns, knitting his brow. He watches her twitch and touch her ear a few more times before he realizes what's happening.
He instantly brings a hand to his side, feeling the crystal tucked under layers of fabric.
It's calling to her...
He quickly turns to the console, folding his arms. He waits, feels her irritation rise, hears a couple of huffs, then—
He senses it the moment it hits. She gasps, whipping around, and he doesn't have to look back to see her face lit with the realization.
"You..." She steps towards him. "You found my crystal."
He doesn't move.
She scurries across the room, stopping behind him. "You have it here, on the shuttle."
He stares at the console.
"W-well..." She sputters. "Where did you find it? How long have you had it?"
Nothing.
"Let me see it at least. Give it to me."
Silence. Then—
"No." Kylo doesn't turn.
"What?"
"You heard me."
"What do you mean 'no'? It's my crystal."
He stands, arms crossed.
"Ben."
Nothing.
"Ben."
No movement.
"Ben!" She grabs his arm.
"NO!" He whips around so fast she jumps. "You are clearly not ready for the responsibility of wielding your own weapon."
"What!?" She jerks back. "Who are you to decide whether or not I'm ready for what's mine?"
"It's not yours."
"It is mine. It was made for me."
"But I'm the one who expended the time and resources to acquire it, so according to the law, it's mine."
"Ben, you cannot keep that crystal from me."
He turns back to the console.
"Ben!"
"REY!" He jerks around. "You just started a damn war because you were angry with me. You're foolhardy, you're dangerous, and you are not ready for the power of a bonded weapon. You've done enough damage as it is."
"How much damage have you done with your weapon, Ben!?" She fumes, pointing at his saber. "How many innocent lives have you taken with it? How much havoc did you cause because you were hurt and angry?"
He stares coldly.
"You don't have the right to tell me I'm dangerous when you're the one who spent the past decade slaughtering your way into power!"
He steps around her, walking to the other side of the room.
She follows him, her breath coming out in hot puffs. "Give me that crystal right now."
"You don't get to make demands!" He whips around. "You don't get to ask anything when you've taken everything from me."
She opens her mouth to retort, but suddenly stops. Something flashes across her face, but it disappears as quickly as it came.
She hardens, squaring her shoulders. She moves to meet him, stopping so close that her chest brushes his.
He looks down, black eyes cold.
"You haven't learned your lesson yet." She steps in, pressing against him. "But you will. You'll learn that you do not control me, and you never will." She stares at him, a smirk in her eyes.
The next instant, she's gone.
Kylo stands alone in the conference room, the heat of her body lingering. He gapes at the space where she used to be, a sick feeling in his gut.
Something's... wrong. He felt it just before the bond took her, a dark swell of satisfaction. He whips a hand to his side, searching for her crystal.
He lets out an exhale when he feels it.
Then, his blood runs cold. He whips his hands to his sides, patting frantically. He turns, searching the room— the floor, the table, the counter— but it's nowhere. It's not here.
His lightsaber. She took his lightsaber.
The realization knocks the breath out of him. He hasn't been without that weapon in... He can't even remember how long. It's so integral to who he is it might as well be an extension of his body.
And she took it. She just took it.
He stares blankly, hollow with the loss.
Then he roars, sending every loose object flying across the room. He roars again, loud and guttural, the sound reverberating off the walls. His face is red, his breath coming in short spurts. He starts to pace, gripping Rey's crystal through the folds at his side.
She will pay. He will make her pay for what she's done, and he knows exactly where he'll start.
When he gets to Starkiller, he's going take her crystal and forge it, attune it to the power cell in a lightsaber.
Then he's going to bleed it. He's going to take that weapon in his hand and bend it to his will, making it his. He will channel his rage and his power and watch as it turns red, all semblance of its former color obliterated. Then—
He halts.
Part of him still rages, reveling in the fantasy.
But another part hesitates.
What if it cracks?
His hold on the crystal loosens.
He shakes his head, resuming his pacing. He returns to the scene, swelling with satisfaction.
But the thought lingers— What if it cracks?
So what? That'll just make the weapon stronger, more powerful, like the one she took from him.
He nods to himself, but an unsettling feeling grows, gnawing its way to the surface. He slows to a stop, glaring at the broken console.
Then, he whips to the door, charging forward and slapping a panel.
The door remains shut.
He slaps the panel again— once, twice, three times.
The door doesn't open.
Kylo knits his brow.
Then, he catches the scent. It's faint but he recognizes it instantly, a saccharine sweet smell that sends a shock down his spine.
Shadow moss.
He snaps up to see red mist gathering at the ceiling, filtering slowly from vents. He whips a hand over his nose and mouth, holding his breath. He searches the door, trying to think, but his mind is already slipping.
The effects are unmistakable. First, sounds change, the ship at lightspeed rising to a roar. The light of the room grows brighter and brighter until Kylo has to squint. He turns around, stumbling forward, only to run straight into the table. He grips the side, lungs exploding from want of oxygen. He tries to hold on but can't any longer, taking a giant gulp of air.
The moment he does, the ship screams.
He whips his hands over his ears, crumpling to the floor. He squeezes his eyes shut, a thousand shrieks ripping through his skull, and he swears he can feel blood trickling from his ears.
He presses his palms hard, but the shrieks get louder, more piercing. He takes short, frantic breaths, each one filling him with the saccharine scent until there's only screaming and pain like he's never known it, ripping, riving, splitting him into a million pieces. The agony is unbearable but somehow finds new levels, climbing an infinite ladder until it's so much his consciousness blows like a fuse.
He crashes to the floor, a black mass of dead weight.
Alright, dear readers, you have officially made it through the worst of the downward spiral. In the next chapter, Rey and Kylo/Ben will have hit rock bottom, and there'll be nowhere to go but up. I know this has been a challenging read for a serialized story, so I appreciate you for staying with me. I am SO READY for the therapy chapters. I'm excited to share the final segment of the story, and hopefully reading them will feel like taking a bath in healing waters after the mess I've just dragged you through.
Next update will be August 24th.