Kylo Ren stood at the viewport of his private quarters, hyperspace streaking past in ribbons of blue and white. His reflection stared back at him—sharp angles, dark hair, shadows carved beneath his eyes from nights he refused to admit were sleepless.

Something was shifting. A tremor in the Force, faint as a half-remembered dream. It had been growing for days, coiling at the edge of his awareness like a thread pulled taut. He didn't know what it was. He hated not knowing.

He closed his eyes. Darkness answered, familiar and heavy. He reached further, deeper, seeking the source of the disturbance—

The sensation vanished the moment he opened his eyes. Gone. But not forgotten.

The Resistance team moved single-file through the collapsed temple corridor, dust still settling from the entrance they'd blasted into existence. Commander Dameron had called the mission routine. Survey the site. Recover anything useful. Leave before the First Order catches wind.

He'd been wrong about that part already.

You felt it before you saw it. The Force curling through the stone like roots seeking water, humming low in your bones. The walls seemed older than the cave itself—undisturbed for millennia, preserved by something beyond time.

Then the corridor opened into a circular chamber. And your breath caught in your throat.

Resting on a weathered stone pedestal at the center of the room sat a crystal, fractured along its length, pulsing with a soft golden light. It moved like liquid fire trapped in amber. It called to you in a voice that seemed to reverberate through your entire being.

You stepped closer.

The Force wrapped around you like a whisper.

A hand on your shoulder—someone calling your name, distant and alarmed. You didn't look back. Your fingers brushed the surface of the crystal.

Light exploded outward.

Aboard the Finalizer, Kylo Ren staggered.

The impact struck him square in the chest, ripping him from his quarters as though the universe itself had reached out and torn the floor from under his feet. Stone. Dust. The smell of ancient fire.

He was standing in a collapsed temple. The world swam with gold light. And only a few feet away—you.

Wide-eyed. Dust clinging to your jacket. Just as unmoored as he was.

His dark eyes locked onto yours, stunned silence stretched between you like a held breath. Then his jaw tightened, his presence settling into something colder. Dangerous.