Ryu''s head snaps toward August, his eyes wide, filled with a sudden intensity. "You sense it too?" he asks, his voice low but urgent.


    August, still puffing on his pipe, exhales slowly, a stream of smoke trailing up into the sky. He gives a single, slow nod, his calm demeanor unshaken, but there''s something in the set of his jaw—something that tells me he feels it just as strongly as Ryu does.


    I glance between them, my heart pounding in my chest. "What is it?" I whisper, but even as the words leave my lips, the sky begins to darken.


    It starts with a single shadow, cutting through the soft golden light of Alderaan''s sun. Then another. And another. My eyes widen as I see the shapes more clearly—massive, hulking forms that seem to blot out the sun itself. Ships, larger than anything I have ever seen. They''re like giants in the sky, their sleek, angular designs casting an ominous silhouette against the once peaceful horizon.


    "Smaller ships are coming out of them," Llamiryl says, her voice calm but laced with a tension I haven''t heard from her before. Her sharp eyes are fixed on the sky, her posture rigid. "This isn''t good."


    My breath catches in my throat as I follow her gaze. The smaller ships—hundreds of them—pour out from the massive dreadnoughts like a swarm of angry insects, scattering across the sky. Their black forms cut through the air with terrifying speed, and in an instant, the first blast hits the city.


    A thunderous boom shakes the ground beneath our feet, and the sky erupts in flashes of red. Heavy blaster fire rains down from the ships, their beams streaking through the air, striking buildings, streets, and anything unlucky enough to be caught in their path. The beautiful stonework of the city''s elegant buildings is obliterated in a heartbeat. Entire structures crumble under the force of the blasts, collapsing into clouds of dust and debris.


    The memory engulfs us, pulling us into the chaos of the city. Alderaan''s beauty and serenity have been replaced with terror and destruction. Everywhere I look, the world crumbles. The once peaceful streets are filled with screams, the air thick with dust and the acrid smell of burning stone. The elegant buildings that had once stretched proudly toward the sky are now reduced to rubble under the merciless assault.


    I glance upward, the dread filling my chest like a weight I can''t shake. Those ships—those massive, looming dreadnoughts casting dark shadows over the city—there''s something familiar about them. Then, my stomach tightens, and a chill runs down my spine as realization dawns.


    The Sith Empire.


    Nikko, clinging tightly to my side, stares up at the sky with wide, fearful eyes. "Talia..." she whispers, her voice trembling. "Those ships... they''re—"


    "Sith," Llamiryl says grimly, her sharp gaze locked onto the sky. "The Sith Empire."


    The words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of the destruction unfolding around us. I swallow hard, my heart racing as the realization settles in. These ships, these fighters tearing through the city—they''re not just an invading force. They''re the Sith, the enemy that Ryu fought against for so long. And now, here they are, laying waste to one of the most peaceful places I''ve ever seen.


    Another blast shakes the ground beneath us, sending debris flying into the air. I instinctively flinch, though I know none of this can touch us. Still, the raw force of it, the chaos... it''s all too real.


    My eyes snap back to Ryu and August. They''re moving swiftly through the streets, their dark robes billowing as they weave through the terrified crowds. August, ever calm, puffs on his pipe as though he''s merely out for a stroll. Ryu, though... I can see the tension in his every step. His hand twitches toward his lightsaber again, the same conflict I saw in him moments ago now flaring up with every explosion, every scream that fills the air.


    "They don''t know we''re here," August says firmly, his voice cutting through the chaos.


    "But Master!" Ryu''s voice is tight, almost desperate, as he watches the destruction unfold. His eyes are wide, filled with anger and helplessness. "We can''t just stand by and do nothing! These people—"


    "I know you want to help, Ryu," August interrupts, his tone steady but carrying the weight of experience. "But if we intervene, we''ll put them in greater danger."


    I can feel Ryu''s frustration as clearly as if it were my own. His hand clenches around the hilt of his lightsaber, and for a moment, I think he might defy August, that he''ll run into the flames and fight, no matter the cost. My heart aches, watching him struggle, and I feel a knot of helplessness tighten in my chest.


    Ryu glares at August for a long moment, his jaw clenched tight, but eventually, he relents. The fire in his eyes dims, replaced by a cold acceptance. He exhales sharply, his shoulders sagging as if all the weight of the world has settled on them.


    "The spaceport..." he mutters, his voice low, frustration dripping from every word. "It''s not far from here."


    August nods. "Then let''s move."


    Without another word, they start moving again, their pace quickening as they race through the streets. I follow close behind, my heart pounding in my chest. The destruction is everywhere now. Blaster fire from the Sith ships rains down, turning the elegant stone buildings into piles of rubble. People scream, running blindly in every direction, their faces twisted in terror. The chaos is overwhelming.


    We weave through the crowds, following Ryu and August as they lead the way toward the spaceport. Every step feels like a battle just to keep going. Explosions rock the ground beneath us, sending dust and debris flying into the air. I can hardly see through the smoke and the flames, but we keep moving.


    Above us, the Sith fighters swarm like a plague, their blasters lighting up the sky with red streaks of death. I try to push the fear down, to focus on the path ahead, but it''s hard to ignore the destruction, the screams of the people around me.


    Nikko presses close, her small frame trembling against my side. "Talia... what are we going to do?" she asks, her voice barely a whisper, full of fear.


    I glance down at her, trying to keep my voice steady. "We stay with Ryu," I say, though I don''t know if it''s the right answer. I don''t know what else to say. "We stay together."


    As we turn another corner, I catch a glimpse of the spaceport in the distance. The sleek shapes of ships sit waiting on the landing pads, half-obscured by the smoke that fills the air. But the path there is anything but clear.


    We have to move faster.


    The spaceport is eerily silent compared to the chaos we''ve just left behind. The sound of destruction still echoes in the distance, mingling with the roar of the Sith fighters that swarm the skies like birds of prey. My breath comes in ragged gasps as we stop, the adrenaline still coursing through my veins. The ground is littered with debris, and the single destroyed ship sits motionless on one of the landing pads, its frame twisted and smoking.


    I glance around, my heart sinking. There''s nothing here—no ships, no people. Just silence and destruction. Panic begins to creep up my spine.


    "What do we do now, Master?" Ryu asks, his voice tight with frustration as he scans the empty spaceport.


    But before anyone can answer, a sound cuts through the stillness. A low, ominous hum. I look up just in time to see a shadow pass over us. My heart skips a beat as a massive ship descends from the sky, its dark, angular form casting a long shadow over the spaceport. The ship is unlike anything I''ve ever seen—menacing in every sense of the word. Its sleek lines and sharp edges make it look like a predator, a machine built for war and domination. The hull gleams in the dim light, and its wings extend like the arms of a beast preparing to strike.


    I can feel my stomach knotting as it approaches. There''s something about it—something wrong, something deeply unsettling. It''s not just the size or the power that radiates from it. It''s the darkness. I can feel it in the pit of my chest, like a cold weight pressing down on me, suffocating.


    Nikko steps closer to me, her wide eyes locked on the descending ship. "Talia... I don''t like this," she whispers, her voice trembling. Her small hand grips my sleeve tighter than ever, and I can feel her fear. It mirrors my own.


    "I know," I whisper back, unable to tear my gaze away from the ship. "I don''t like it either."


    Llamiryl stands beside us, her usual calm exterior faltering ever so slightly. I can see the unease in her eyes, though she tries to hide it. "That ship..." she murmurs, her voice quiet but tense. "There''s a darkness to it."The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    The ship touches down with a heavy thud, its landing pads grinding against the stone of the spaceport. The air hums with a low, mechanical growl as it settles, the silence almost more oppressive than the noise.


    Ryu steps forward, his body tense. I can see the familiar movement of his hand, reaching instinctively for the hilt of his lightsaber. His eyes are fixed on the ship, his jaw clenched. I can feel the conflict radiating from him—anger, frustration, fear, all mixing together in a chaotic swirl.


    August remains still, watching the ship with those sharp, blind eyes, his expression unreadable. He doesn''t move, but there''s a tension in the air now, thick and heavy.


    As the ship powers down, a hiss echoes across the spaceport, and the landing ramp begins to lower slowly, the metallic sound sending a shiver down my spine.


    We watch in silence, holding our breath.


    ?????


    As the landing ramp lowers, the air around us grows impossibly thick, the weight of what''s coming pressing down on me like a vice. I can feel it—an oppressive, suffocating presence. It wraps itself around my chest, making it hard to breathe. Nikko grips my arm even tighter, her little fingers digging into my sleeve. I can''t blame her. The feeling in the air, it''s not just dread—it''s something darker, something far more dangerous.


    And then, he steps forward.


    Ryu''s master.


    The moment I see him, a collective gasp escapes from all of us. He descends the ramp with an air of cold confidence, his dark robes billowing slightly in the wind. His face is sharp, cold, and the aura that surrounds him is darker than anything I''ve felt before. My heart pounds in my chest as I watch him approach, six figures following in perfect formation behind him—Sith Acolytes, their black hoods pulled low, their presence a looming shadow that feels like it''s swallowing the spaceport whole.


    Ryu''s grip tightens on his lightsaber hilt, his eyes locked on the man who once controlled him, who molded him into the person he fought so hard to escape from. I can feel the tension rolling off him in waves, his body taut as though every muscle is ready to spring into action.


    August, usually so calm, so composed, subtly shifts his stance. His fingers curl tighter around his staff. The air between them and Ryu''s master crackles with unspoken history, with the weight of a confrontation that''s been brewing for years.


    "I thought I sensed someone familiar," Ryu''s master says, his voice smooth but laced with cold malice. He stops at the base of the ramp, the Sith Acolytes halting behind him like shadows, their presence menacing in the flickering lights of the destroyed spaceport.


    I feel the hairs on the back of my neck rise. There''s something so wrong about this man, about the way he stands there, completely unbothered by the destruction around him. His gaze shifts, scanning over us briefly before settling on Ryu, then August. A sinister smile curls on his lips, as if he''s savoring the moment.


    "But to find not one, but two of my Acolytes here," he continues, his eyes narrowing as they land on August.


    For a heartbeat, I''m confused. Acolytes? August? I glance over at August, whose grip on his staff tightens just a fraction. But then, as if shaking off a mask, August smirks. With a slow, deliberate movement, he releases his staff, letting it fall to the ground with a soft clatter. The transformation that follows is almost instant.


    August, the frail old man, suddenly stands taller—his back straight, his posture strong. His cloak drops to the ground, revealing a much more formidable figure than I''d ever imagined. His presence changes, becoming sharp, focused, filled with a power I hadn''t seen before. I can only watch, my heart racing, as he reaches behind him and pulls out a lightsaber hilt—a sleek, extended weapon that gleams in the dim light of the spaceport.


    The hilt itself is long, far longer than any lightsaber I''ve seen Ryu use, and as August grips it, both ends extend, the metal glinting. My breath catches in my throat. The man I thought I knew is gone, replaced by a warrior standing on equal footing with Ryu''s master.


    "I knew someday our paths would cross again, Master," August says, a sly grin curling at the edges of his lips.


    I feel my stomach churn at the word. "Master." The same word Ryu uses for the man standing before us. The realization sends a shiver down my spine. August... he was once like Ryu. He was once under this man''s control, just like Ryu had been. The history between them runs deeper than I ever realized.


    Ryu, too, seems surprised by the revelation. He glances at August, his brow furrowed, as though he''s trying to piece together a puzzle that doesn''t quite fit. But the confusion is short-lived, and his gaze quickly snaps back to his former master.


    The Sith Lord chuckles, the sound low and menacing. "The Force guides us, right, August?" he says, almost mockingly, as his hand moves to his belt, unhooking the hilt of his lightsaber with a casual, deliberate motion. "The years have been kind to you. But this time, neither of you will escape."


    The click of the lightsaber igniting sends a chill through me. The red blade hums to life, casting a sinister glow over the spaceport. Behind him, the six Sith Acolytes do the same, their red blades igniting one after another, the sound filling the space with an ominous buzz that reverberates in my chest.


    Nikko whimpers beside me, and I instinctively pull her closer. My heart races, my mind flashing back to Ryu''s memories of his last confrontation with this man—how it ended so badly. How Ryu was left broken. Fear grips me, tightening like a vice around my chest.


    "This time, you will not get another chance," Ryu''s master says coldly, his eyes locking onto Ryu with a look that chills me to my core. His voice is filled with a terrifying certainty, as though he''s already decided the outcome.


    Ryu''s face hardens, his eyes narrowing as he pulls his lightsaber from his belt. The familiar snap-hiss of the yellow blade igniting fills the air, and I can see the tension in him as he holds it steady, the bright glow reflecting off his face. He takes a deep breath, his eyes closing for just a moment, centering himself.


    Beside him, August does the same. His lightsaber, longer and more intricate than Ryu''s, ignites with a blinding, pure white light. The blade extends from both ends of the hilt, and August twirls it effortlessly in his hands, the motion smooth and practiced. It''s almost beautiful, but the threat of what''s to come lingers in the air like a thick fog.


    The tension between the two sides is palpable, the air so thick it''s almost suffocating. The hum of the lightsabers, the distant sounds of the city''s destruction, the weight of what''s about to happen—it all presses down on me, making it hard to breathe. My heart pounds in my chest as I watch Ryu and August prepare to fight.


    Beside me, Nikko grips my hand even tighter, her small fingers trembling. I squeeze back, trying to reassure her, but the truth is, I''m just as terrified. I remember how this went last time. I remember the pain in Ryu''s eyes when he relived it. And now, here we are again, facing the same enemy.


    Llamiryl''s normally calm demeanor falters, her eyes darting between the Sith and Ryu, her jaw clenched in quiet tension. Even she seems unsettled, and that only makes the knot in my stomach tighten.


    And then, with a sudden burst of motion, Ryu and August lunge forward, their lightsabers flashing through the air as they charge toward the Sith Lord and his Acolytes.


    ?????


    The fight erupts in an instant, and the air around us hums with the intense, crackling energy of clashing lightsabers. Ryu and his master collide with a force that sends ripples through the spaceport. The hiss of blades fills the air, their yellow and red sabers crashing together in a storm of light and sound, each strike reverberating through my chest. I can feel the heat of the battle, even though I stand helplessly on the sidelines.


    Ryu moves with precision, his strikes measured, controlled. His yellow blade hums as it slices through the air, each movement fluid but filled with purpose. His master, however, matches him at every turn, their sabers clashing in a symphony of violence. The Sith Lord''s movements are sharp and brutal, each swing of his crimson blade filled with power, as if he''s trying to overwhelm Ryu with sheer force. But Ryu doesn''t falter. His jaw is set, his focus unwavering.


    Yet, I can see it—the tension in Ryu''s eyes, the strain as he fights not just against his master, but against the torrent of emotions threatening to surface. His master''s presence is like a black cloud, pressing down on him, taunting him with every clash of their sabers.


    "You''ve grown, Ryu," his master sneers between strikes, his voice dripping with malice. "But you can''t escape what you are. You''re still my Acolyte, no matter how hard you fight."


    Ryu doesn''t respond, but I see the flicker in his eyes, the slight twitch in his jaw. The words are getting to him, whether he wants to admit it or not. I can feel it too—a dark shadow hanging over him, trying to pull him back into its grasp.


    I glance over at August, who''s locked in battle with the Sith Acolytes. His white-bladed lightsaber moves with an elegance I hadn''t expected from someone who had once seemed so frail. He moves with a grace that defies his age, every strike fluid, calculated, lethal. One of the Acolytes rushes at him, and with a simple turn of his body, August slices through the attacker''s defenses, cutting them down in a single, smooth motion.


    He doesn''t hesitate. As another Acolyte charges him, August spins, deflecting the red blade with ease before cutting the Sith down with a quick, efficient strike. His movements are precise—almost too precise for an old man, and yet, there he is, dismantling the Sith with an effortless skill that leaves me both surprised and impressed.


    But I don''t have time to marvel at August''s abilities. My gaze snaps back to Ryu just as his master drives him back with a powerful overhead strike. Ryu grits his teeth, parrying the blow and sliding back to regain his footing. His master presses forward, relentless, his red blade flashing through the air like a serpent striking its prey.


    "You can feel it, can''t you?" the Sith Lord taunts, his voice low and dangerous. "You''re still mine, Ryu. No matter how strong you think you''ve become, you''ll never escape me."


    Ryu''s face tightens, his breathing growing heavier. His lightsaber hums in his hand, but there''s a tension in his stance now, a flicker of doubt. The words are hitting their mark, and I can feel his struggle—the battle not just with his master, but with himself.


    "No," Ryu growls, his voice thick with determination. "I''m not yours."


    But even as he says the words, I can see the strain in his eyes. He''s trying to hold on to his composure, to the lessons he''s learned, but his master''s presence is like a poison, seeping into his mind, trying to pull him back into the darkness.


    Again, I glance at August. He''s dispatched four of the Sith Acolytes now, their bodies crumpled to the ground and is locked in combat with the remaining two. His white blade moves with the same deadly precision, each strike cutting through the air with a sharp hiss. He moves faster than he should, far more fluidly than I ever imagined possible. There''s a quiet grace in his movements, as if every step, every strike, is part of a dance he''s perfected over decades.


    But my attention snaps back to Ryu as I hear the crack of lightsabers clashing once more. His master is pressing harder now, trying to force Ryu into submission, trying to break his will. The red blade comes down in a powerful arc, but Ryu sidesteps, spinning to bring his yellow blade up and over in a counterstrike. The two clash again, locked in a deadly duel that leaves no room for hesitation.


    Then, with a sudden burst of speed, Ryu sidesteps his master''s next strike, his yellow lightsaber flashing through the air. In one swift motion, Ryu brings his blade down hard, severing his master''s hand—the one holding the crimson lightsaber.


    The Sith Lord stumbles, his hand dropping to the ground along with his lightsaber, the red blade flickering out as it falls. But what chills me to my core is his reaction.