The Eternal Emperor

A.N: Listening to The Chosen One while writing this made it sad as fuck in my mind. Second part was written while listening to metal... so... yeah. 

The sun bathed the grand spires of the Jedi Temple in a golden light as Ahsoka Tano stood before its imposing façade. The wide steps leading down to Coruscant's bustling streets stretched out before her, yet she felt an overwhelming sense of disconnection. This place, once her sanctuary, now felt like a monument to disillusionment and betrayal. 

Weeks had passed since her trial, since the Jedi Order declared her free of suspicion and guilt. Her innocence had been proven, but not without cost. Anakin, her master, had fought tirelessly to unearth the truth, capturing the true traitor—Jedi Knight Barriss Offee. 

Barriss, a friend and confidant, had stood beside Ahsoka through much of their time as Padawans. To learn that Barriss was behind the attack on the Temple, framing her out of a belief that both the Republic and the Jedi Order had strayed from their true purpose, was a wound Ahsoka hadn't yet fully processed. Barriss's actions were born of conviction, but they had cost Ahsoka dearly—her faith in the Jedi Order was shattered, and the echoes of that betrayal lingered. 

Ahsoka had been offered a chance to rejoin the Order, but the gesture felt hollow. The Council's apologies, their regret for doubting her, came too late. She had seen too clearly how quickly their faith in her had crumbled, how easily they cast her aside when uncertainty clouded their judgment. 

As she climbed the Temple's steps one last time, she felt a pang of disappointment that Anakin hadn't been in the Council chambers when she made her decision. His absence was felt deeply, though she knew he would have understood her choice without needing to hear it. Still, she had hoped to see him, to feel the reassurance of his presence in this moment. 

The Force stirred gently as her boots reached the top of the staircase. It was a sensation both comforting and bittersweet, as though the Force itself mourned her departure while urging her forward. Then she saw him. 

Anakin stood at the edge of the Temple's great stairs, his figure framed against the Coruscant skyline. The light of the setting sun cast a warm glow around him, but his expression was somber, a melancholy smile on his face as his eyes met hers. 

"Snips." His voice was soft, almost reverent, carrying with it a depth of emotion he rarely allowed himself to show. 

"Master," she replied, her voice steady but tinged with sadness. For a moment, everything felt as it had been—the easy camaraderie, the trust that had always existed between them. 

Anakin's gaze softened, his lips curving into a sad smile as he spoke. "Be careful... Be safe." 

The simplicity of his words struck her like a blow. She had expected him to try to convince her to stay, to argue against her decision with the fervor she knew so well. But this...this quiet resignation was unexpected. 

"Is that it?" Ahsoka asked, tilting her head slightly. "You're not even going to try to convince me to stay?" 

Anakin's gaze became complicated, a myriad of emotions warring within him. He seemed to search for the right words, but when he finally spoke, his voice was tinged with weariness. "Would it make a difference?" 

Ahsoka hesitated before shaking her head. "No. It wouldn't." 

For a moment, Anakin smiled—an almost genuine expression that spoke of pride and understanding. But the smile faltered quickly, replaced by a shadow that darkened his features. He hesitated, looking at her as though trying to memorize every detail of her face. 

Then, with uncharacteristic vulnerability, he said, "Leave the Republic. Go as far as you can and never look back." 

Ahsoka blinked, caught off guard by his words. "Master?" 

Anakin's gaze drifted past her, toward the horizon, as though he could see the future itself unraveling before him. "The galaxy is a big place, Ahsoka... when I was but a boy that knew nothing, I promised myself to be the first one to visit all of the systems within it..." he said quietly. "You were never meant for the confines of a temple. " 

His words carried a weight she couldn't ignore. There was a finality in his tone, a recognition of truths they both felt but couldn't fully articulate. For all her disappointment in the Jedi Order, she had never imagined hearing such sentiments from Anakin—a man so entwined with the Jedi, yet so often at odds with its doctrine. 

He cast one last, lingering look at her, his expression a mix of pride, sadness, and something she couldn't quite place. Then, without another word, he turned and began walking back toward the Temple, his form retreating into the shadows cast by its towering pillars. 

Ahsoka stood there, watching him go, her chest tightening. She clenched her teeth, her fists balling at her sides as she fought back a swell of emotion. 

"Goodbye, Master," she whispered, though he was too far to hear her. 

With a deep breath, she turned away and began her descent down the Temple steps. Each step felt heavier than the last, as though the weight of her decision sought to pull her back. But she didn't stop. She couldn't. 

As she reached the base of the stairs and stepped into the bustling streets of Coruscant, she felt a strange mix of loss and liberation. She was no longer bound by the Jedi Order, but the void it left within her was undeniable. 

Even so, she knew her path lay elsewhere. Whatever the future held, she would face it on her own terms. And as she disappeared into the crowd, the last rays of sunlight glinting off her montrals, Ahsoka Tano embraced the uncertainty of what lay ahead. 

======================== 

Anakin Skywalker stood in his dimly lit chambers at the Jedi Temple, staring out at the endless Coruscant skyline. The city's lights, vibrant and alive, mirrored the restless energy within him. 

It was subtle at first, like a faint whisper in the Force, but it grew louder, insistent, unrelenting. Trusting his instincts, as always, Anakin surrendered to it. With a single, deliberate tug on the Force, the familiar walls of his chamber seemed to dissolve. 

When his eyes opened again, he was no longer in the Jedi Temple. 

He stood on Mortis—or what Mortis had become. Gone were the landscapes of harmony, the symbolic interplay of light and dark. Instead, the ground stretched out as an infinite expanse of shifting, ever-changing fragments—shards of stone, metal, and something unrecognizable, all swirling together in an intricate, chaotic dance. Above, a towering black spire loomed, jagged and pulsating with veins of red light, a sinister monument where the Father's temple had once stood. 

Anakin's gaze fell to the churning expanse below him. It teemed with movement, countless forms shifting and colliding, yet their nature remained a mystery. Try as he might, Anakin could not discern their purpose or composition. They remained shrouded, blurred, as if existing just beyond the reach of his understanding. 

Temptation whispered in his mind, urging him to look deeper, to uncover what lay hidden. But Anakin resisted. He knew instinctively that whatever answers the chaos below held, they would not serve him—might even break him. 

Instead, his focus shifted to the tower. It beckoned him, each step drawing him closer to its base. The air grew heavier, pressing against him as if Mortis itself sought to test his resolve. The ground beneath his feet seemed to shift and yield, a reflection of the strange, mutable reality of this place. 

For all its strangeness, this journey was not unfamiliar to him. It was from Lelouch that he had learned how to surpass the limits of his own mind. The Jedi Order had taught him discipline, focus, and power within defined boundaries—but those boundaries were imposed, by the limits of those lesser than him, by traditions of those weaker than him. The Force, as the Jedi wielded it, was restrained, limited by their teachings, dogma and their own potential in it. Lelouch had shown him otherwise, that they were different, that they outclassed the Jedi so far they might as well be on another world within the Force as compared to them. 

Through Lelouch, Anakin had come to understand that his true potential was far greater, unbound by the constraints the Jedi had instilled. Observing Lelouch's mastery of the Force—how he bent reality itself with a thought—had revealed the shackles Anakin had unknowingly placed upon himself. Now, those limits were gone, and Anakin moved with a confidence born of this newfound understanding. 

As he approached the tower, he found himself before a pair of immense doors, their surface alive with shifting patterns, the carvings writhing as if infused with life. They were incomprehensible, depicting not a story but the raw, chaotic essence of the Force itself. 

Anakin raised his hands to push them open but hesitated. Physical motion felt redundant here. Instead, he willed the doors to part, and they obeyed, groaning as they swung open with an eerie resonance. 

The chamber within was vast, its dimensions undefined, as though it existed both inside the tower and beyond it. A golden light suffused the air, warping and shimmering, and waves of power rolled outward in every direction, distorting the very fabric of the space. 

At the center sat Lelouch, the All-Father of Mortis, on a throne that seemed to defy reality. It was not merely a physical object but an embodiment of the Force itself, its jagged edges and pulsating light reflecting the chaos and power that surrounded it. 

Lelouch's presence was overwhelming, a beacon of power and will that dwarfed anything Anakin had ever encountered. His white robes gleamed faintly in the distorted light, and his black hair framed his face, his piercing purple eyes alight with a sharp, otherworldly intelligence. 

The energy radiating from Lelouch was intoxicating, a raw manifestation of the Force that seemed to warp reality around him. It was power beyond imagination, yet Anakin knew it was still but a fragment of the Force's true essence. Even this unparalleled might was insignificant compared to the whole. 

Anakin dropped to one knee, bowing his head under the weight of Lelouch's presence. For all his power, for all his defiance, Anakin felt humbled here. He understood now how Lelouch moved through life with such detachment. Lelouch did not view existence as others did. To Lelouch, even his own life was but a tool, a piece on a far larger board, to be sacrificed if necessary. 

"Welcome... to what one day will become the Forge of Souls," Lelouch's voice resonated, not as sound but as thought, a clarity that filled Anakin's mind and left no room for misinterpretation. 

Anakin raised his head, meeting Lelouch's gaze. Those amethyst eyes burned with a focus that seemed to pierce through him, to see not only his intentions but the very core of his being. Around them, the Force continued to twist and coil, alive with purpose yet unknowable in its scope. 

"You warned her." It was a statement. 

Anakin merely lowered his head. 

"Anakin... I do not mind." That surprised him somewhat. 

"You... don't?" 

Lelouch crossed his hands in his throne with a helpless smile. 

"I understand why you did it, Ahsoka would feel prompted to go against us if she remains within the Republic, it is how she was raised. But if she realizes your warning, if she investigates... odds are she will come face to face with you long before she faces me. Balance will be restored, one way or another... and the force will see to it she is not an obstacle." 

Anakin contemplated the words for a moment and then understood. 

"For one reason or another... In some semblance of rage... Vader... will kill her." 

A.N: Don't know how much I'm gonna update in the coming week, maybe I'll write one up tomorrow maybe after vacations... we'll see. In the meantime, Hope you all enjoy. And just in case i don't update before new year again... HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!