The Galactic Senate Chamber was unrecognizable. The once-proud rotunda now lay smothered under an invisible weight—like the air itself had turned to stone.
Dozens of senators had collapsed across their floating platforms, twitching, weeping, or unconscious. A few could still breathe, but their minds were elsewhere—shattered or wandering. Mas Amedda was slumped at the central podium, dried vomit staining his robes. Even the droids lining the walls had begun to glitch, their processors unable to parse the unnatural gravity in the room.
And at the center of it all… Jin-Woo sat unmoved. Upon a throne of blackened obsidian, the King of the Dead leaned back lazily, a single leg resting over the other. His eyes shimmered faintly—purple, endless—and the very shadows beneath his seat stirred like restless serpents.
In front of him, barely upright, was Senator Ranulph Tarkin. The proud voice of the Strong Republic was now reduced to ragged gasps. He clutched at his chest, blood running down his nose, one knee buckled against the floor of his hovering congressional box.
And within the Naboo platform behind Jin-Woo—shielded, untouched—stood only two figures: Padmé Amidala and Morgan le Fay.
Morgan's pinkish mana shield pulsed around them both, . Her eyes burned with ethereal glow, holding back the full devastation of Jin-Woo's unsealed power through sheer mastery of transfiguration. Padmé, for her part, remained composed. .
Floating beside the obsidian throne, unseen by the dying Senate below, hovered the Daughter.
The Daugther folded her arms . Her eyes studied Jin-Woo's profile. He hadn't moved once since sitting. You happy now? Her voice came not aloud, but through telepathy—reaching him in the private chambers of his mind. That boy… Anakin. He's got a better chance now. They're shaken enough to listen. You did it. Satisfied?
Jin-Woo didn't answer. He only smiled.
The Daughter narrowed her eyes. Jin-Woo… she repeated, but more slowly, Everyone here has nearly lost their will to live.
Jin-Woo's eyes flicked toward her.Then, with a casual motion, he raised one hand and made a slow horizontal swipe through the air. In an instant, the suffocating pressure collapsed into nothing. The obsidian throne shattered into fine dust and vanished. The Force Presence—his planetary-level aura, his overwhelming will—snapped shut .
Gasps filled the Senate chamber. Dozens of senators and aides dropped to their knees, some collapsing entirely as their lungs seized with long-denied oxygen. A few vomited Again where they stood. Others cried out in confusion or relief. The ghostly silence was shattered by ragged breathing, whimpering, and desperate, shuddering inhales.
Supreme Chancellor Valorum, pale and visibly sweating, gripped the podium as if it were the last thing anchoring him to the world. "Status," he croaked. "Everyone… is everyone all right? No casualties?"
Senator Bail Antilles wiped his forehead, still reeling. "We're alive. Barely. But the real issue—hasn't changed."
The Purple England Company… The Senate always thought their leader, Jin-Woo, was just a genius merchant. A phenomenon in economics. But now after the revelation He's a monster, A monster in human skin.
Jin-Woo said nothing. But his eyes turned slowly. Toward Lott Dod. The Neimoidian senator flinched.
Lott Dod froze mid-step, sweat trickling down his grey-green face. His head trembled slightly, his hands twitching uselessly at his sides. He dared not meet Jin-Woo's gaze.
Jin-Woo raised a hand—not threatening, just… gesturing.
With a quiet ripple of transmutation and mana-forged command, two empty congressional boxes across the chamber warped and reshaped into vast holofeeds. One displayed the planet Naboo—its atmosphere thick with Trade Federation blockades, Lucrehulk-class battleships forming an oppressive shell around the peaceful world.
The other displayed Cato Neimoidia, pristine and silent. For now.
Gasps and murmurs broke out across the chamber.
Lott Dod jolted. "Are you continuing to deceive us with your illusions—your lies—you mons—"
But he was cut off.
"Shut up, Neimoidian!" Tarkin's voice cracked . His body still weak, his mouth bloodied, but his voice didn't falter. "You crazy fucking Neimoidians dragged Naboo into this mess—and now you have the gall to act like you're the victim? You brought this civil war. And now a… a monster shows up! And still you talk!"
Jin-Woo's gaze flicked back to Lott Dod. Lott fell into silence immediately.
Then Jin-Woo spoke, "You can still send a commission to Naboo. To ascertain the truth. If you wish."
He raised his eyes toward the Naboo feed, voice lowering, darkening. "But all you'll find… is how small you are."
A second later, the holofeed of Naboo changed. A low, rumbling darkness bled across the image—thick tendrils of living shadow rising from the planet's core. The blockade, once proud and fortified, now looked trapped inside a living abyss.
Then came a comm burst—came from Theed Royal Palace
"Rune Haako—fire on the surface! Fire on the surface, now—!" Viceroy Nute Gunray's voice burst through the static, panicked and high-pitched. "Get Lord Sidious! Get him! We're—trapped—rune, we are TRAPPED inside the planet! Something is blocking the sky —WHERE IS SIDIOUS!?"
Rune Haako's voice came next, whimpering, static-filled. "Viceroy—Viceroy! We… we're cut off from the primary command ship—communications are collapsing across the fleet! … there's nothing we can do!"
Without a word, Jin-Woo raised his hand. A sound like glass splintering echoed across the Senate chamber. A crack spread in the very air—then split open. The gateway tore through dimensions like paper, revealing the interior of the Theed Royal Palace throne room. Inside it: Rune Haako and Nute Gunray, pale, sweating, shouting over each other in blind panic.
They turned—and froze as Jin-Woo's gaze met theirs across the impossible rift.
Jin-Woo's voice rang out across worlds, quiet and certain. "There is one final stage remaining. You are trapped inside Naboo… and you know it." His eyes narrowed on Gunray. " Viceroy Nute Gunray… run away. Hide. Kiss your children goodbye. Pray to your god. Because nothing—not your army, not your red, white, and blue Republic—can save you. I'll see you soon."
Gunray staggered back in horror. "We surrender! We surr—"
The rift sealed with a thunderclap. Reality repaired itself. The flickering edges of the gateway sealed with shadowed seams, and the holofeed vanished—leaving the Senate in stunned silence.
Jin-Woo stood atop the remnants of his obsidian throne, his gaze sweeping the still-reeling chamber. "It wasn't me who wanted war. It was you… who picked a fight with something bigger than you could ever understand."
"You want to repair the Republic? Then start with unconditional surrender of the Trade Federation Towards naboo ."
Jin-woo stepped forward, and the shadow pulsed behind his eyes. "But I know what you'll choose. You always choose the same thing. So let it be war. One shall stand… …and one shall fall."
Darkness spiraled up around him in a vortex, Jin-Woo vanished.
Morgan, standing just beside Padmé, lifted her hand as a ripple of pink light swirled into shape behind her—a portal of her making, gleaming with the subtle glow of Transfiguration mana. "Let's go, young queen," she said with a faint smile. "Our part is over."
Padmé arched a brow as she turned to her. "Sure it is. Though I'm starting to think you and Jin-Woo were just playing with my definitions of democracy. You kept the word… but everything else?" Her smirk faded. "You roasted the Republic. And me along with it."
Palpatine said . "Your Majesty, please," he urged. "An all-out war against the Trade Federation… is not wise."
Valorum stumbled upright beside him, pale and shaking. "Queen Amidala ," he said hoarsely. "Please… convince Jin-Woo to stand down. if not for our sake, this broken Senate… then for the Republic itself. For the galaxy."."
Padmé's expression turned cold."And where was the Republic when I begged for help? When our people were shot in the streets—starved under blockade? If that's the Republic… then the Republic should die . Right now? There's a dark hand stretched toward mine. I'll take it."
She turned. "Panaka. You coming?"
Captain Panaka blinked—then straightened to a salute. "I've always trusted your decisions, Your Majesty. But since when did you know Jin-Woo was this strong?"
Padmé didn't even glance back. "Since Tatooine. When he killed ten thousand mercenaries in a single Fight . Including Durge—the immortal one. Just to make a statement."
Morgan chuckled lightly, then raised a hand. The pink portal widened behind them. One by one, the Naboo delegation stepped through and vanished—.
Alone in his congressional box, Palpatine sat motionless.. He is not just a threat to the Sith Grand Plan,. He is the darkness that will consume everything. My instincts were right. . I lost the missing piece.The knowledge of what Jin-Woo truly is… the power he uses…. It's darker than the Dark Side itself.
Beneath his sleeve, his trembling fingers brushed against a hidden contact stud. He pressed it.
Far across the chamber, another senator rose as if on cue.
Orn Free Taa, the bloated Twi'lek representative of Ryloth, bellowed across the chamber, his voice theatrical and full of exaggerated dismay.
"I am Senator Taa, and I am a close friend of Senator Palpatine," he declared pompously. "And I must express my deep disappointment in this Senate—particularly in our Supreme Chancellor. His indecisiveness, his failure to protect a fellow member world… it is shameful. So I hereby move a vote of no confidence… in Chancellor Valorum's leadership—"
Mas Amedda, voice hoarse and unamused, cut him off. " We know that , Orn Free Taa ," he snapped. "Everyone in the chamber knows how a vote of no confidence works. Sit down."
Aks Moe stood next, seizing the moment "Then let's move forward. I say we banish the Naboo delegation from the Republic entirely. Isolate them. Strip their Senate recognition. Let them fall. That queen and her warlord chose their side."
Then Bail Antilles stepped forward, calm but firm. "And what happens if Jin-Woo retaliates?" he asked coldly. "He stood before us all… and not a single one of us could stand against him.""We don't even know the limits of his power. But we do know whose side he's on. Queen Amidala's. So I suggest we start negotiating with him—and fast."
Bail Antilles turned his full glare on the Trade Federation's box. "It's time we abandon the Trade Federation entirely. Cut them out of the Republic. They've caused too many problems. Too many wars. And now this disaster? It's blown up in all of our faces."
All eyes turned to the Neimoidians.
Lott Dod stood slowly, voice trembling with faux righteousness. "We are still part of this Republic," he said, barely keeping the edge of panic from his tone. "You are all obligated ,to protect us from independent worlds like Naboo!"
But no support came . Just rows of silent congressional boxes.
The Daughter, quietly observed the scene. "I see. I'm… unneeded."
Feathers and radiant light surged upward from her feet. And in that swirl of luminous white, she vanished.
Ranulph Tarkin jolted upright, shouting, voice strained and raw. "Hey—you! Lady— I order you to sto—!"
But he never finished. The last of the light disappeared. She was gone.
Valorum stood Slowly. The once dignified Chancellor now moved like a ghost of the man who had first walked into office—wrung out and crumbling, but still clinging to the last threads of order.
Valorum spoke,. "I speak now… in what may be my last official act as Supreme Chancellor of this Republic."
The words stung, but he didn't flinch. "Before I am replaced—and it will happen—I offer a final condition. One that may spare this body from ever experiencing such disaster again. I propose the Republic shift to a dual leadership system. Two Chancellors—equal in power, bound in duty. A single figurehead… is no longer enough. Look at me. I held the office… and I held no power. Just a title."
Bail Antilles immediately raised a hand, voice incredulous. "Two Chancellors? There cannot be two heads for a single body. If one of them disagree, it'll paralyze the Senate—or worse, start a civil war."
Valorum turned toward him slowly. "And with one head, look at what we've become. We were nearly crushed under a single man's pressure… not because we failed to act, but because no one could."
He let the weight of it linger. "One head … is no longer enough to steer this Republic. We need balance. We need someone who cannot be bought, and someone who cannot be silenced."
He exhaled, steadying himself on the railing of his congressional box. "The second condition," Valorum continued, voice rising to reach all corners of the chamber, "is this: whoever can resolve this crisis—bring Naboo and the Trade Federation into peaceful terms—will be the foremost candidate to replace me."
"If that person can go even further—if they can convince Jin-Woo, and Naboo, to rejoin the Republic willingly… then I say, let that individual become the next only . Supreme Chancellor immediately."
A sharp voice cut in—San Hill of the InterGalactic Banking Clan, scoffing. "You can't just decide that, Chancellor Valorum . You're treating the Republic as if it belongs to you."
Valorum turned slowly to glare at him, eyes sunken but burning. "Are you an idiot?"
San Hill flinched at the bluntness.
Valorum's voice was ragged but fierce now. "Look around. Right now, the greatest military and political power in this galaxy isn't in this chamber. It's Naboo… or more precisely, the one standing with them—Jin-Woo. Anyone who can convince him to stand down… is the true winner of this crisis."
The chamber buzzed again, louder now, uncertainty clashing with desperate realism.
"And now, the final condition," Valorum said grimly.
"The hero known as the Armored Man the Republic must find him. Track him. Convince him to join our side. If Jin-Woo becomes a threat again… we'll need someone capable of enforcing our laws. Even against him."
There was silence, until a voice rose from one of the few still-occupied congressional boxes.
From the Naboo sector—where all others had departed—only one figure remained:
Palpatine. He stood slowly, hands folded behind his back. His tone, calm and composed.
"Before anyone retaliates," he said evenly, "I still believe the Republic has hope. That's why I remain here—in the empty seats of my delegation."
A slight pause.
"However… may I ask? This final condition—does it not strike you as impractical? No one knows where the Armored Man is. He disappears at will. Leaves no trace. How can we possibly hope to convince such a figure?"
Valorum met Palpatine's eyes. His voice was weary, but firm.
"The final condition… is optional. A surefire task, but one not required now. It's for the future of the Republic. For stability, if things spiral again."He looked around the chamber.
" The first two conditions—the ones I announced earlier—those are non-negotiable. Those will decide the direction this Republic takes. Everything else… comes second."