(Cherry POV 3 months since Ember left)
I fidgeted with the face cover again, fingers absently tracing along the golden bands that framed the white material. The thing was beautiful, Vex had insisted on getting it for me months ago when we'd been shopping in the upper markets, but Id never actually worn it before now. The white fabric felt soft against my skin almost silky but the weight of the decorative metalwork around my forehead and the piece on my nose made it feel strange. Like I was pretending to be someone I wasn't.
"Stop messing with it." Sera's voice came from the pilot's seat, though her tone didn't sound annoyed. "you'll get it off alignment if you keep up."
As I lowered my hands I watched her own move across the hovercars controls almost like water, the vehicle's systems lighting up like a constellation of tiny stars. The engines hummed beneath us, their energy signature a steady pulse that pushed against Dromund Kaas's gravity. We were maybe three hundred meters up, joining the endless stream of traffic that flowed through the capital's airways nonstop and I relaxed hoping for the drive(flight?) to pass by faster.
_______________________________
The moment we stepped off the landing platform and approached the Sanctum's entrance, a chill ran through me that had nothing to do with miserable weather. I pulled my robes tighter around myself, but it didn't help. This cold came from inside, like ice forming in my bones. The dark side energy radiating from the building was so thick I could almost taste it, moving my tongue inside my mouth I in fact did taste it. Metallic and bitter like blood.
The entrance itself was massive, carved from black metal that seemed to drink in what little light filtered through the clouds. Ancient Sith runes were etched into the archway, pulsing faintly with a red glow that made my teeth ache. The doorway looked like a mouth a hungry, waiting mouth that wanted to swallow us whole.
A figure stood just inside the entrance, and as we approached, he stepped forward and bowed deeply. As he bowed I changed my view slightly and could see he was young, maybe only a few years older than Ember, with a Force signature that flickered nervously like a candle in the wind. An acolyte, not yet a full Sith, wearing simple black robes with red trim that marked his station.
"Welcome to the Sith Sanctum" he said, his voice carefully modulated to hide his nervousness. "I am Acolyte Gress. I've been assigned to escort you to the testing chambers. Please, come this way."
We followed him through the entrance, and immediately the sounds of the storm outside faded to nothing, replaced by an oppressive silence that seemed to press against my eardrums. As my view spread through the sanctum it seemed alive with energy, Hundreds of signatures moved through the building—some bright and focused, others dim and barely there. I could sense other young people like me scattered throughout, their fear and excitement mixing into a tangible cloud of emotion that hung in the air like fog. They were here for testing too, I realized. Other potentials waiting to learn their fate.
"The Sith Sanctum" Acolyte Gress began as we walked, falling into what seemed like a speech, "has stood for over a millennium, though the current structure is a reconstruction. The original Citadel was built when the Sith first reclaimed Dromund Kaas after our exile following the Great Hyperspace War. It was destroyed and rebuilt several times throughout our history, each iteration grander than the last."
We passed through a vast central hall, and I couldn't help but turn my head in every direction, trying to take it all in. Massive pillars rose from the floor like ancient trees, their surfaces carved with scenes of victories and conquests. Clashing between chains that hung between the pillars were arcs of green electricity the size of my torso, casting an eerie light that made everything look diseased. The floor beneath our feet was polished to a mirror shine, reflecting the crystal light in nauseating patterns.
"The Sanctum serves as the heart of the Sith Order on Dromund Kaas" Kress continued, leading us down a wide corridor lined with doorways that led to chambers I could only guess at. "The Council meets here when they're not on Korriban or out on a mission and many prominent Sith Lords maintain chambers within these walls. Competition for space in the Sanctum is fierce. A room here signifies one's ambitions toward the Dark Council itself."
We passed a group of other young people waiting in an antechamber, all dressed in robes like mine, all radiating the same mixture of fear and ambition. Their signatures varied wildly some burned hot and angry, others were cold and calculating, and a few flickered with uncertainty. One girl a human, looked at me as we passed, and I felt her Force sensitivity probe at mine, testing, evaluating. I instinctively pulled back, remembering Vex's warnings about keeping my abilities hidden.
"The lower levels" he gestured gesturing toward a staircase we were passing, "contain chambers dating back to the original construction. Darth Thanaton maintains his private library there, and it's said the Emperor himself has chambers in the deepest levels, though none but the Dark Council and Imperial Guard are permitted access there."
That's when I felt it.
My Force sight had been expanding outward as we walked, mapping the building in my mind, curious about its layout and the beings within it. I'd pushed my awareness down, following the spiral of that staircase into the depths of the Sanctum, and there several levels below I sensed something that made my breath catch.
Four signatures, but not like any I'd felt before. They burned with power that made the other Sith in the building look like candles next to bonfires. They were arranged in a pattern a square, maybe, or a diamond and between them, in the center, was something else. Not a person, exactly, but... something. A void that somehow had presence, an absence that was more real than reality.
They were performing some kind of ceremony.
I pushed my sight closer, fascinated despite myself. The four Sith were chanting, though I couldn't hear the words but I could feel the rhythm of it, the way the energy pulsed and swirled around them, building toward something. Whatever was in the center of their formation was growing stronger, more defined, like smoke taking shape.
And then there was the fifth presence.
It had been standing outside the ceremonial circle, observing, but the moment my awareness brushed against the scene, it turned. Not physicaly but its attention shifted, its focus changing from the ceremony to..
The sensation was like being poked directly in the eye, if my eye was somehow my entire brain. Sharp, invasive, painful in a way that had nothing to do with my physical body. I gasped, stumbling slightly, and immediately severed the connection, pulling my Force sight back so fast it left me dizzy.
"Are you alright?" Vex's hand was on my elbow immediately, steadying me.
Acolyte Gress looked back at us, and I could feel his signature spike with interest. "You're Force sensitive already? How fascinating. Most don't develop their abilities until after initial training."
"She's special" Vex said flatly.
We continued walking, but I kept my Force sight pulled in tight now, only extending it enough to navigate and sense immediate threats. Whatever I'd sensed in those lower levels, whoever that fifth presence was, I didn't want to touch it again. It had felt old, ancient even, and utterly without mercy or compassion. Like looking into an abyss that looked back.
"The testing chambers are just ahead" Gress announced, stopping before a set of double doors marked with more Sith runes. "Your group will be called shortly. The test itself varies depending on the overseer, but generally includes evaluation of Force sensitivity, psychological profiling, and basic combat assessment."
I couldn't help myself. Even though I'd been keeping my Force sight pulled in tight since that awful poke from the presence in the lower levels, curiosity got the better of me. I let my awareness expand outward, trying to get a sense of what waited for us beyond those doors.
And I hit a wall.
This was something else entirely. Where the doors stood, there was simply... nothing. A void in my perception that wasn't empty but opaque, like trying to see through frosted glass with eyes that were already blind. I pushed harder, letting my awareness probe at the edges of whatever was blocking me, but it was like trying to grab smoke. The harder I focused, the more it seemed to slip away.
I'd never encountered anything like it before.
the doors swung open with a grinding sound of ancient stone on stone. An older acolyte emerged, this one bearing a lightsaber at his hip and a datapad in his hand. His Force signature was stronger, more defined though still nothing compared to the others I'd sensed elsewhere in the building.
"The next group" he announced, his voice carrying. He consulted his datapad. "Vex Korrath and ward."
My stomach twisted into knots. This was it.
"That's us" Vex said
Gress stepped back, bowing slightly. "This is where we part ways" he said, and there was something almost sad in his Force signature. "I'm not permitted beyond this point. Not until I complete my own trials." He paused, then added quietly, "Good luck, young one. May the Force serve you well."
"Thank you" I managed, my voice smaller than I'd intended.
Vex placed a hand on my shoulder, steady and reassuring.
I nodded, took a deep breath that did absolutely nothing to calm my nerves, and followed Vex through the doorway.
The moment I crossed the threshold, it was like stepping through a curtain of static. My Force sight didn't exactly return it was more like it suddenly had permission to exist again, but only within this specific space. The chamber beyond flooded into my awareness all at once, and I had to resist the urge to gasp.
It was vast, far larger than I'd expected. The ceiling rose at least three stories high, disappearing into shadows that my sight couldn't quite penetrate. The walls were lined with what looked like viewing galleries, though they were empty now or at least, seemed empty. There was something about the shadows up there that suggested presence without revealing it.
But what drew my attention, what made everything else fade into background noise, was the single figure standing in the center of the room.
Her skin registered in my perception as a deep, vibrant blue, like the twilight sky just after sunset. The color wasn't uniform either; there were subtle patterns across her face and visible skin, darker markings that created an almost tribal design.
What struck me most were her eyes. Through my Force sight, they blazed with an intense golden yellow, predatory and intelligent, missing nothing. Her hair—or what I perceived as hair was a deep burgundy red, pulled back in a practical style that kept it from her face while still allowing its length to flow down her back.
She wore form-fitting armor that seemed more ceremonial. The breastplate was dark with silver or white accents that created patterns across the chest. Various technological components were integrated into the outfit—I could sense the energy signatures of multiple devices, though I couldn't guess their purpose. The overall effect was someone who was equally prepared for a formal ceremony or a battlefield.
"Approach" her voice rang out and echoed through out the room
I started forward, and that's when I noticed the arrangement around her. She stood within a perfect circle carved into the floor, the stone ring about ten feet in diameter. The carving wasn't just decorativeit pulsed with energy, creating a boundary that was more than physical. Inside the circle with her were two objects that made my teeth ache just sensing them.
The first was a crystal, massive and multifaceted, floating about three feet off the ground. It was easily the size of my head, maybe larger, and it glowed with an inner light. Through my Force sight, it looked like a star burning, pulsing, alive in a way that mere minerals shouldn't be. Each pulse synched with a rhythm I couldn't quite identify.
The second was a box. Simple, unadorned, made of some metal I couldn't identify. It sat on a small pedestal, closed and latched, and yet... wrong. Where the crystal blazed with power, the box was an absence. Not empty, but containing something that seemed to exist outside normal Force perception. Looking at it through my sight was like staring at a hole in reality.
"Stop" the woman commanded when I was about five feet from the circle's edge. "No closer. Not yet."
I stopped immediately, my hands clenching and unclenching nervously at my sides. The face cover felt too tight suddenly, the golden ornament pressing against my nose bridge like it was trying to burrow into my skull.
"I am Lysra Croft" she said, those golden eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made me want to step backward. "Sith Inquisitor appointed examiner by the Dark Council itself. You are Cherry, ward of Vex, claimed to be of the Kissai bloodline."
It wasn't a question, but I nodded anyway. "Yes, ma'am."
"Ma'am" she repeated, and I heard dark amusement in her tone. "How polite. How... unusual for one claiming such a heritage." She began to move along the circle's edge, never quite turning her back to me, those golden eyes never leaving my face. "Tell me, child, what do you know of your bloodline?"
"I..." I swallowed hard. "Not much. Just that it's rare. That it makes me valuable somehow."
"Valuable" Lysra repeated, her hand moving to rest on what I now realized was a lightsaber at her hip from the length of the hilt. "Yes, I suppose that's one way to put it. The Kissai were the priest caste of the original Sith species. Sorcerers. Scholars. Keepers of the darkest secrets of the Force. Their blood is all but extinct now, diluted through millennia of interbreeding with humans and other species."
She stopped moving, facing me directly again. "And yet here you stand, claiming to carry their legacy. A blind child who sees through the Force itself." Her head tilted slightly, studying me with those burning golden eyes. "How convenient. How... suspicious."
"I didn't claim anything," I said, finding a spark of defiance despite my fear. "Other people told me what I am. I just... am."
"Indeed." She gestured to the crystal with one blue hand, and I noticed her fingers were longer than a human's, more elegant. "Do you know what this is?"
I shook my head.
"A testing crystal. One of only seven in existence. It resonates with Force-sensitive individuals, revealing not just their power but their potential, their nature, their... alignment, you might say." She moved to stand beside it, one hand hovering just above its surface. "When you enter this circle, the crystal will read you. Everything you are, everything you might become, will be laid bare."
My mouth went dry. "And the box?"
Her lips curved in what might have been a smile, though there was nothing warm about it. "That is for those who pass the first test. One thing at a time, young Kissai. If you truly are what you claim to be."
"I told you, I didn't claim—"
"Step into the circle," Lysra commanded, her golden eyes never leaving mine.
I took that final step forward, my foot crossing the carved boundary. The instant it did, the world exploded.
A storm erupted around the circle's edge lighting cracked out in a perfect cylinder around me, following the circle exactly. The bolts didn't strike randomly but danced in patterns, weaving between each other like living things, creating a cage of electricity that rose from floor to ceiling. The air itself seemed to scream with power.
I stumbled backward instinctively, but I was already inside. The lightning wall behind me sparked dangerously close, and I jerked forward again, ending up right in front of the crystal. My heart hammered so hard it felt like it might burst at any second.
The crystal before me began to pulse more intensely, its rhythm matching my racing heartbeat. Or maybe my heartbeat was matching it I couldn't tell anymore. I couldnt help but watch in amazement as the crystal began to change. A crack appeared down its center as the uniform dark energy that had radiated from it split into two distinct streams.
The left half blazed with brilliant blue light—pure, calm, ordered. It felt like looking at a perfectly still lake under moonlight, peaceful and serene. The Force energy it emanated was controlled, measured, words seem to come to me the more I stared of patience and wisdom along with planning. The right half burned with crimson fire—passionate, chaotic, powerful. It was a bonfire in a storm, wild and consuming. This energy was raw emotion given form, promising strength through passion, power through victory.
I found myself swaying slightly, entranced. The blue and red energies swirled faster, the boundary between them becoming less defined, more fluid. They reached out toward me, tendrils of light and shadow, offering themselves for my choosing.
I didn't think. I couldn't think. My right hand reached out toward the red side.
The moment my fingers approached it, the crimson energy surged forward like a living thing. It crashed over the blue like a wave, consuming it, devouring it, until the entire crystal blazed with nothing but dark red fire. An orchestra crescendoed, triumphant and terrible, and the crystal's energy slammed into me with the force of a bike collision.
Then everything went black.
Not dark..black. A void so complete that even my Force sight, which had never failed me before, showed nothing. I was nowhere. I was in nothing. I was nothing.
Panic clawed at my throat. I tried to scream, but I had no voice. I tried to run, but I had no body. I was just... awareness, floating in absolute emptiness.
Breathe, I told myself, though I had no lungs. Breathe.
Somehow, impossibly, it worked. I felt myself inhaling, exhaling, even though there was no air, no body, no anything. The panic receded, replaced by an eerie calm. This was just another test. Another challenge. I'd survived worse.
After a few moments or maybe hours, time had no meaning here I sensed movement in the void. A shadow approaching through the darkness, which should have been impossible since everything was already perfectly black. But there it was, getting closer, taking shape.
It was me.
As She stepped closer I could perceive her perfectly my height, my build, my face. But she was older, maybe by a few years, and she moved with a confidence I didn't possess. She wore elaborate robes that seemed to drink in the darkness around her, and in her hand...
In her hand was a lightsaber. Single-bladed, elegant, humming with barely contained power.
"Hello, Cherry" she said, and her voice was mine but different—deeper, more assured, tinged with authority. "Or should I say, hello, myself?"
Before I could respond, more shadows moved behind her. Four more figures stepped forward, arranged in a semicircle. Each one was me, but different. Each one was a path I could take, a future I could claim.
The first figure on the left carried a double-bladed lightsaber, the weapon spinning lazily in her hands. She was dressed in form-fitting armor that seemed designed for stealth and speed, with a hood that shadowed her face. No matter how I changed my perspective or where my sight was, darkness clung to her like a second skin.
"The Assassin" the first me said, gesturing to this version. "Master of stealth and deception. You could learn to become one with shadows, to strike from darkness before your enemies even know you're there beyond that the specializations of this path are numerous.
The second figure stood with an almost regal bearing, a single lightsaber in one hand while the other crackled with Force lightning. Her robes were elaborate, decorated with Sith symbols that seemed to glow with their own inner light.
"The Sorcerer" She continued. "Master of the Force itself. You could command lightning to destroy entire armies, corrupt the life force of your enemies to heal your allies, or drive your foes mad with the pure power of the dark side and beyond.
The third figure was perhaps the most intimidating. She held not one but two lightsabers, one in each hand, and even standing still she seemed to vibrate with barely contained violence. Her armor was practical, built for speed and aggression.
"The Marauder" the first me said, and I heard something like hunger in her voice. "Dual-wielding destroyer. You could become a whirlwind of blades, moving faster than the eye can follow, cutting down everything in your path.
The final figure stood like a mountain, unmovable and imposing. She carried a single lightsaber but held it with such confidence it might as well have been an army. Her armor was heavy, designed to absorb punishment that would kill lesser beings.
"The Juggernaut" the first me concluded. "The immovable object and unstoppable force combined. You could become invincible, absorbing damage that would destroy others while crushing your enemies with overwhelming power.
All five versions of me stood there, waiting. The void around us seemed to pulse with anticipation.
"Choose" they said in unison, their voices my voice echoing through the nothingness. "Choose who you will become. Choose your destiny."
____________________________________
(Lysra Croft's POV)
The Force around me flowed with anticipation as the blind child approached the circle. I kept my expression carefully neutral, but inside, my thoughts still burnt with barely contained irritation.
Another Sith pureblood getting special treatment. Another supposedly "precious" bloodline being given access to one of our most sacred artifacts. And here we were, wasting it on a child who probably didn't even understand what she was.
My arms crossed tighter over my chest as I watched her hesitate at the circle's edge. The Kissai bloodline. As if that made her special. As if carrying the diluted genetics of ancient priests somehow made her more worthy than those of us who had clawed our way up from nothing.
My fingers clenched involuntarily into a fist, hidden beneath my crossed arms, as I thought of Veyrak. That smug, red-skinned bastard with his bone ridges and facial tendrils, always lording his "pure" heritage over everyone else. He'd been born into privilege, into power, while I'd had to fight for every scrap of recognition. And yet here in the Empire, his bloodline meant he started ten steps ahead of me in every maneuver.
"The ancient blood flows strong in my veins" he'd said at the last gathering I'd attended, those yellow eyes of his gleaming with superiority. "Unlike some who must... compensate for their inferior genetics with excessive displays of power."
The insult had been aimed at me, of course. The blue-skinned outsider. The one whose home planet wasn't even properly identified in Imperial records. I'd wanted to tear his throat out with my bare hands, but that would have only proven his point.
And now here was another pureblood or close enough getting handed opportunities that others would kill for. The irony that she was blind didn't escape me. Even broken, they were considered more valuable than the rest of us.
"Step into the circle" I commanded, keeping my voice level despite my internal rage.
The girl took that final step, and everything changed.
The moment her foot crossed the carved boundary, the air itself seemed to ignite. Lightning erupted from the circle's edge in a perfect cylinder of electricity that shot from floor to ceiling. Not the chaotic, wild lightning of a Force storm, but something controlled, deliberate, ancient. The bolts wove between each other in intricate patterns, creating a cage of pure energy that hummed with power.
A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth despite myself. Well. This was certainly more interesting than I'd expected. Perhaps the little Kissai brat would provide some entertainment after all.
I began walking toward the lightning barrier, my boots clicking against the stone floor. The energy crackled and danced, beautiful in its lethality. Behind me, I heard movement the girl's guardian, stepping forward with concern written across her features.
"Is this normal?" A females voice carried a note of barely controlled alarm. "The lightning—"
I glanced back at her, waving a dismissive hand. Ah yes, Vex Korrath. Cipher Seven. One of Imperial Intelligence's most decorated operatives, now playing nursemaid to a child. I'd read her file, of course everyone in my position had. The things she'd done for the Empire, the secrets she'd uncovered, the enemies she'd eliminated... and now she was here, watching over this girl the irony couldnt be sweeter.
That alone made the child worth watching. Cipher Seven didn't waste her time on meaningless pursuits. If she'd claimed this child, trained her, protected her... there was more here than met the eye. Perhaps I'd keep tabs on them after this was over. It never hurt to have leverage over Imperial Intelligence, even indirectly.
I reached the lightning storm and stopped, studying its patterns. The electricity moved in precise cycles, weaving and interweaving, never quite touching the same space twice. It was hypnotic, beautiful, and absolutely deadly.
Without hesitation, I thrust my right hand into it.
The pain was immediate and exquisite. The lightning didn't just burn it shredded. I felt it tearing through skin, muscle, even scraping against bone. Each bolt that struck my hand sent agony shooting up my arm and into my shoulder. My nervous system screamed in protest, every instinct demanding I pull back, retreat, escape.
Instead, I smiled wider.
This was real power. This was what the dark side was meant to be not the tepid political games of the Sanctum, not the careful maneuvering for position and influence, but raw, undiluted pain transformed into strength.
I pulled my hand back after a few seconds, examining the damage with clinical interest. The skin was charred black in places, split open in others, revealing the red meat beneath. Blood welled from dozens of tiny lacerations where the electricity had literally carved through my flesh. My fingers twitched involuntarily, the damaged nerves firing randomly.
Beautiful.
I could feel eyes watching me with a mixture of disgust and fascination. Good. Let her see what true Sith were capable of. Let her report back to her Intelligence masters that Lysra Croft was not someone to underestimate.
I focused on the pain, drawing it into myself rather than trying to push it away. The dark side responded eagerly. I felt it flowing through me, drawn by my anger, shaped by my will. The charred flesh began to lighten, dead cells sloughing off as new skin grew beneath. The lacerations sealed themselves, the blood flow stopping as vessels reconnected. Within moments, my hand was whole again, though the fur was a lighter shade than before.
I turned my attention back to the storm, trying to peer through the crackling cage of electricity to see what was happening to the girl inside. The lightning was too dense, too bright. It wove and danced in patterns that hurt to track, creating a wall of pure energy that was virtually opaque. All I could make out were vague shadows, suggestions of movement within. Unacceptable. I needed to see what was happening, to understand what the crystal was showing her.
"What are you doing?" Vex's voice carried a note of alarm as I began walking toward the barrier with purpose.
"My job" I replied curtly, not bothering to look back at her.
The lightning grew louder as I approached, the crackling becoming a roar that filled my ears. The hair on my arms stood on end, and I could feel the electricity in the air making my skin prickle. The dark side swirled around the barrier like a hungry beast, feeding on the energy, growing stronger with each passing moment.
I stopped just inches from the wall of lightning, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from it. This close, I could see the individual bolts more clearly thousands of them, each one potentially lethal, weaving together in an intricate dance of destruction. It was beautiful and terrible, ancient and immediate.
Without hesitation, I stepped into it.
The pain was instantaneous and overwhelming. Not just in one spot like when I'd tested it with my hand, but everywhere at once. Lightning struck my shoulders, my arms, my legs anywhere my skin was exposed. Each bolt carved its own path of agony across my body, leaving trails of charred flesh in their wake. My armor protected some areas, but the electricity found every gap, every exposed inch of skin, and attacked with vicious precision.
I channeled the Force as I moved forward, not to protect myself but to heal. Each wound that opened was sealed moments later. Each burn that formed was replaced with new skin before it could do permanent damage. I wasn't avoiding the pain I was experiencing fully, letting it flow through me, using it as fuel for my power.
A particularly vicious arc of lightning struck across my face, and I felt it carve a line from my left temple down to my jaw. The pain was exquisite sharp and burning and electric all at once. My vision in that eye went white for a moment as the electricity interfered with the optic nerve. But I kept moving forward, kept channeling, and felt the wound seal itself even as the lightning moved on to find new flesh to savage.
Step by agonizing step, I pushed through the lightning storm. My clothes were smoking in places where the electricity had found purchase. My skin was a constant cycle of destruction and regeneration. But I was moving forward, and that was all that mattered.
The storm seemed to recognize my determination and redoubled its efforts. The lightning came faster, harder, more precisely aimed. It found the soft spot behind my knees, the sensitive skin at my wrists, the vulnerable flesh of my throat. Each strike was perfectly placed to cause maximum pain, as if the barrier itself was testing me, seeing if I was worthy to pass through.
I embraced it all. Every bolt, every burn, every moment of agony. This was the crucible that would prove my superiority over those soft, privileged purebloods who had never truly suffered for their power. They were given everything by virtue of their blood. I took everything by virtue of my will.
Finally, after what felt like hours but was probably only seconds, I broke through the inner edge of the barrier. The lightning continued to rage behind me, but ahead was relative calm the eye of the storm where the girl stood frozen in her vision.
But she wasn't alone.
Five figures. Five versions of the same girl, each one distinct yet unmistakably her.
The first stood with the bearing of a trained assassin, her form draped in darkness that seemed to cling to her like a living thing. A double-bladed lightsaber spun lazily in her hands, the weapon's hilt catching the crimson light from the crystal. Every movement was precise, economical the mark of someone who had learned that wasted motion meant death. The shadows around her weren't just absence of light; they were something tangible, something that moved with purpose and intent.
The second radiated raw power that made the air around her shimmer with heat distortion. Her elaborate robes bore Sith markings that glowed with their own inner fire, ancient symbols that hurt to look at directly. Electricity danced between her fingers in lazy arcs, not the violent lightning of combat but something more controlled, more deliberate. A sorcerer, I realized. One who had delved deep into the mysteries of the dark side and emerged transformed.
The third vibrated with barely contained violence, dual lightsabers held with casual confidence. Her armor was practical, built for speed and aggression, with reinforced joints that would allow for explosive movements without restriction. Even standing still she seemed ready to explode into motion, her muscles coiled like springs waiting to be released. A marauder the kind of warrior who turned combat into art and death into poetry.
The fourth stood like a mountain made flesh, immovable and imposing. Heavy armor adorned her frame, each plate inscribed with protective runes that pulsed with dark energy. The single lightsaber at her hip might as well have been a declaration of invincibility. A juggernaut, designed to absorb punishment that would destroy lesser beings while crushing everything in their path.
But it was the fifth figure that drew my attention most forcefully.
She stood apart from the others, observing the scene with an air of authority that the others lacked. Older than the girl by several years, she moved with a confidence that spoke of battles won and power earned. The way she held herself, the subtle positioning of her feet, the relaxed grip on her lightsaber everything about her screamed danger. In her hand, a single-bladed lightsaber hummed with barely contained energy, the blade itself seeming to flicker between states of existence.
This wasn't just another possibility this was the conductor of this strange orchestra, the one guiding the girl through whatever vision the crystal had triggered.
As I watched, the older version turned her head slightly, and for a moment, I could have sworn she was looking directly at me. Through the vision, through the barrier between reality and whatever plane this existed on. Those eyes the same unseeing orbs as the girl's, yet somehow infinitely more aware seemed to pierce right through me.
A smile curved her lips. Not warm, not friendly, but knowing. Anticipatory. The kind of smile a predator wore when it knew the prey had already lost but hadn't realized it yet.
"You want to see what she could become?" the older version asked, her voice carrying despite the lightning storm raging around us. There was something in her tone, a challenge wrapped in silk. "Then come. Test yourself against possibility itself."
I should have ignored her. She was just a projection, a vision created by the crystal to guide the girl through her awakening. A phantom with no real substance, no true power. But something about that challenge, that knowing smile, that absolute confidence it ignited something in me. The same fury that burned whenever Veyrak and his ilk looked down on me for my 'inferior' bloodline. The same rage that had driven me to claw my way up from nothing to stand among the Sith elite.
"You're not even real" I said, stepping forward anyway. My boots clicked against the stone floor with deliberate precision.
"Real enough" she replied, igniting her lightsaber. The crimson blade cast strange shadows across her face, making her look older, more dangerous. The light seemed to bend around the blade, as if reality itself was uncertain about its existence. "Real enough to show you what you're dealing with. What she could become, given the right... motivation."
I glanced at the girl who was still frozen, caught between choosing her path. Her face was a mask of indecision, fear warring with ambition, uncertainty with desire. Then back at her older self, who stood waiting with that infuriating smile, patient as stone.
My hand moved to my own lightsaber almost without conscious thought. The weapon felt familiar in my grip, a trusted companion through countless battles. The weight of it, the perfect balance, the way it fit my hand all of it was as natural as breathing. "You're nothing but a phantom. A possibility that may never come to pass."
"Every phantom was once a possibility" the older Cherry said, beginning to circle me. Her movements were fluid, predatory, each step placed with deliberate care. "And every possibility begins with a single choice. She's about to make hers. The question is are you ready for what she might choose?"
The lightning storm around us seemed to pulse in response to our building tension, the bolts becoming more frequent, more violent. The other four versions of Cherry had stopped their attempts to convince the girl and were now watching us with interest. Even the frozen girl herself seemed to be turning her attention our way, though her body remained locked in place by the vision's hold.
"Lysara Croft" the older Cherry said, and I felt a chill run down my spine at hearing my name from this projection's lips. She shouldn't know that. A vision shouldn't have access to that information. "Sith Inquisitor. Appointed examiner. So concerned with bloodlines and superiority. So angry at those born to privilege while you had to claw your way up from nothing."
My jaw clenched hard enough that I heard my teeth grind. How did this projection know that? It shouldn't have access to my thoughts, my history, my carefully hidden resentments. Unless...
"The crystal" I breathed, understanding dawning like a cold sunrise. "It's not just reading her. It's reading everyone in the circle."
"Smart" the older Cherry acknowledged, still circling. Her path was bringing her closer with each revolution, tightening like a noose. "The testing crystal doesn't just reveal potential it reveals truth. And the truth is, you're curious. You want to know if this child with her precious bloodline is worth the special treatment. You want to test her, push her, maybe even break her a little. Just to prove that blood means nothing compared to will."
I ignited my lightsaber, blade springing to life with a distinctive snap-hiss that echoed through the chamber. The red energy cast my blue skin in purple shadows, and I saw my reflection in the older Cherry's unseeing eyes a warrior ready for battle, fury given form.
"You talk too much" I said, and attacked.
I threw my lightsaber in a spinning arc, the blade creating a deadly disc of energy as it carved through the air toward her. The weapon howled as it spun, the saber leaving trails of superheated air in their wake. It was a move that had ended more than one overconfident opponent the spinning blades were nearly impossible to block completely, and even attempting to deflect them often left openings I could exploit.
But the older Cherry didn't try to block. She simply ducked, bending backward with a flexibility that seemed almost unnatural, her spine curving at an angle that should have been impossible. While simultaneously batting the weapon to the side with her single blade, the contact sending sparks cascading through the air like falling stars. The move was so casual, so effortless, that it felt like an insult but even still my weapon curved back toward me.
The air behind me displaced with a subtle whoosh the only warning I had. I'd seen Phantom Stride before in the ancient texts and experiences, more than one assasin has wanted my head when the price was right. But experiencing each time brought a rush that couldnt be beaten. One moment she was in front of me, the next she simply... wasn't. There was no transition, no movement through the intervening space. She had simply ceased to exist in one location and begun existing in another.
I felt the heat of her blade coming for my back, aimed at my spine with surgical precision. There was no time to turn, no time to bring my weapon around to block. In that split second I knew she could connect so I screamed with the force itself.
The sound that tore from my throat was rage and frustration given form, a wave of pure dark side energy that exploded outward in all directions. The Force Scream slammed into everything around me with the power of a thermal detonator, creating a sphere of destructive power that would have shattered lesser minds and sent bodies flying. The very air rippled with the force of it, visible distortions spreading outward like ripples in a pond.
The older Cherry was forced backward, her lightsaber swing interrupted as she had to brace against the sonic assault. Her feet slid across the stone floor, leaving grooves in the ancient rock. The other versions of Cherry flickered and wavered like flames in a strong wind, their forms becoming translucent for a moment. Even the lightning storm around us seemed to bend away from the force of my scream, the bolts curving outward as if repelled by an invisible barrier.
I used the space I'd created to spin around, calling my lightsaber back to my hand as I faced my opponent properly. The weapon settled into my grip with practiced ease. She'd slid back perhaps ten feet, her boots leaving marks on the stone floor, but she was still standing. Still smiling.
"Force Scream" she said, sounding almost approving, like a teacher pleased with a student's progress. "A classic. Unrefined, but effective. You've got good instincts."
I attacked again, this time keeping my weapon in hand. Both blades whirled in a complex pattern—high, low, thrust, sweep—each movement flowing into the next in a deadly dance I'd perfected over years of training. The air sang with each movement, leaving afterimages burned into the air.
The older Cherry met each strike with her single blade, not with the desperate parries of someone overwhelmed, but with an economy of motion that spoke of absolute mastery. Her blade was always exactly where it needed to be, never a millimeter more or less. She wasn't just blocking she was redirecting, using my own momentum against me, making me work harder for each attack while she seemed to barely exert herself.
She chuckled actually chuckled as she slid backward, creating even more space between us. The sound was rich with genuine amusement, as if she was enjoying herself immensely. Then, with a theatrical flourish that would have done a Nar Shaddaa street performer proud, she deactivated her lightsaber and offered me a slight bow.
"My job is done" she said, straightening. "She's made her choice."
I wanted to press the attack, to wipe that knowing smile off her face, to prove that no phantom could best me. But something made me turn to look at the girl the real Cherry, not these projections.
She was moving.
Her hand was extended toward one of the versions the Sorcerer, I realized with a start. As I watched, she stepped forward and the Sorcerer version stepped forward to meet her. They clasped hands, and for a moment, both figures seemed to glow with the same crimson light as the crystal. The light pulsed, grew brighter, and became almost blinding until the light was all I could see.