The Multiverse Hunter

"Stop."

Malvok's voice thundered across the arena, his words laced with anger and desperation. He extended his hand, his Force energy surging forth in a visible ripple, halting Ali's movement and sliding him back several meters.

"What are you doing, Malvok?" Sivara's sharp voice rang out as she rose from her seat, her eyes blazing red with fury. Her posture was regal, but her aura radiated authority and danger.

Beside her, Drogath growled menacingly, his massive frame towering over the Sith Master. His golden eyes narrowed as he glared at Malvok, the intent to kill emanating from him like a smouldering inferno.

"You are breaking ancient rules, Malvok," Sivara continued, her tone sharp and commanding.

Malvok remained firm, his fists clenched, his aura swelling. "She's in no shape to fight anymore. This is enough! End the fight and let her live," he said, his voice trembling but resolute, even as his yellow eyes flickered with barely restrained emotion.

Sivara's grip tightened on the lightsaber she had drawn from beneath her robes. "You're out of line, Malvok. Do you intend to insult our traditions in front of everyone here?"

Ali, standing at the centre of the arena, straightened his posture and turned to face Malvok. His voice was calm, emotionless, and colder than the desert night. "She can live—only if she surrenders."

The entire arena held its breath as Ali stepped forward and grabbed Derma's bloodied, broken body, forcing her to kneel before him. Her limbs hung limply, and her once-pristine uniform was soaked with her own blood. Ali's black and red mask slid from his face into his hand, revealing his strikingly handsome features. He knelt, his face closer to hers, and spoke with icy detachment.

"You lost. Say the words. Give… up."

Derma's face was barely recognisable, her right eye swollen shut and her mouth dripping crimson. She managed to open her left eye and gazed weakly at Ali. She didn't see just him—she saw the shadow of her past. Her father's killer, bloodstained and triumphant, staring down at her with the same cold indifference.

For a moment, her lips parted as if to speak. But instead of surrendering, Derma gave a bloody, defiant grin. Her teeth, slick with blood, glinted in the pale lights of the arena.

Ali's face didn't shift. He didn't blink. With a swift motion, he raised his hand.

PLACK.

The crowd recoiled as Derma's head burst like a crimson firework, spraying blood and fragments across the sand. Her lifeless body collapsed into a heap at Ali's feet, blood pooling around her.

"NOOOOO!"

Malvok's anguished roar echoed through the cavernous arena, his entire body trembling with fury. His fists clenched tighter as he glared at Ali, his golden eyes blazing with murderous intent.

"Malvok… Don't," Sivara said, her voice cutting through his rage like a blade. Her crimson lightsaber ignited with a hiss as she stepped forward, the glow casting a menacing shadow across her face. She held the blade loosely, but her stance left no question: she was ready to strike him down.

But Malvok ignored her. He hovered into the arena, landing softly in front of Derma's mutilated corpse. His trembling small hands cradling what remained of her headless body. The blood continued to drip.

The arena was silent.

Malvok stood and turned toward Ali, his face a mask of grief and rage. Ali stared back, his mask once again concealing his expression. Without a word, Ali turned on his heel and began walking toward the edge of the arena.

"The winner is A—"

CRUSH!

The announcing droid didn't finish its sentence. Malvok, with a flick of his wrist, crushed the droid into a twisted heap of metal. He lifted Derma's body with the Force, her bloodied remains floating limply behind him as he walked toward the exit of the arena. The lifeless corpse trailed streaks of red behind him as the Sith Master disappeared from view.

Once Malvok had left, murmurs erupted from the audience. Sith acolytes whispered nervously, their voices filled with awe and disbelief. To see a Sith Master lose composure over a single acolyte was unprecedented.

Sivara remained standing, her gaze locked on Malvok's retreating form. She sighed heavily, shaking her head before turning her attention to Drogath. The towering apprentice was already moving toward the exit, his hulking frame intimidating everyone in his path.

"Make sure Ali doesn't go after him, no matter what! Do you understand?" Sivara said, her voice low but sharp.

Drogath stopped, turning slightly to look down at the Sith Master. His deep growl reverberated through the air. "If Ali wants Malvok dead… then Malvok dies."

Sivara frowned as Drogath walked away. 'These two are too much for me…'

Outside the arena, Ali and Drogath rode their speeders out into the desert. The sun was dipping below the horizon, casting the red sands in deep shadows.

"Are we going after him?" Drogath asked casually, his voice calm as if discussing the weather.

"No," Ali replied, his tone colder than usual. "He'll come to me."

Ali drove straight to their usual sparring grounds, the familiar landscape offering a strange sense of normalcy. Drogath parked his speeder beside Ali's and dismounted.

"Why are we here?" Drogath asked, tilting his head in confusion.

Ali swung his leg over his speeder and walked toward the centre of the training area. "Everyone knows this is where we train. If Malvok wants revenge, he'll come here. Killing a Sith Master isn't in my best interest right now, Drogath. But if I must, I will."

Drogath grunted in acknowledgment. "So, what do we do in the meantime?"

"We train."

Hours passed as they pushed their limits, honing their abilities with relentless focus. Ali sparred with Drogath, throwing everything at him—rocks, telekinetic blasts, even attacks mimicking Malvok's technique. Drogath's newfound skill in using the Force to create a circle of increased gravity around him proved invaluable, but Ali's relentless assaults kept him on edge.

Ali's comm device buzzed, drawing his attention. Sivara's projection appeared, sitting elegantly at her desk, sipping from her favourite cup.

"Come to my office," Sivara said curtly. "I have something for you—both of you."

Ali nodded and ended the call, signalling to Drogath that the session was over. Together, they rode back to the academy, the night sky stretching above them like a vast, silent shroud.

They stood before Sivara's office, the heavy doors sliding open to reveal the Sith Master seated at her desk. Two black cases rested on the floor in front of her.

"What's this?" Ali asked, his eyes narrowing.

"You're both apprentices now. It's time you received your lightsabers," Sivara said, her tone nonchalant.

She gestured toward the cases. "Usually, this would be presented to you in a proper ritual by your Sith Master. But since Malgrith is too obsessed with his tomb to care, we're doing this the non-traditional way. Now, open them."

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