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TARGET INDEX POINT: CONTROL IN ANGER
[Lightsaber wounds are difficult enough to forget when they leave real scars behind. Obi-Wan isn't entirely certain if he'll ever forget Sidious's blade burning through his heart--and that hadn't left behind anything behind at all. Funny, really, how some things work.
But after a week or so, upon finding the memory growing no less vivid with time, there's nothing for it but to try again. As others are. So he must. If he ever wishes to garner the approval he needs, in this place--]
day 81; session 4
[The first main atrium of the Jedi Temple; the lights are still intact, the floors polished and empty. Commander Cody stands beside him in full orange-striped armor, at perfect attention (as always), hands folded behind his back and helmet tilting in curiosity as he peers up at the architecture around. Obi-Wan stares at him, and Cody stares back. "Nice place, I guess," comes the tinny helmet-comm voice, mild and respectful as it's always been. "Almost cozy, and that's a surprise--er, no offense meant of course, sir." Visor tilts, peering back at him in curiosity. "But why meet here? Did the Chancellor say? I'd figure there'd be a mite more familiar security over at the Senate--"
The doors open behind them. In the light, robed figures--Palpatine with the amiable gentleman's visage now, two red-painted clones of the Senate guard flanking him, two robed and masked members of the Jedi Temple guard flanking those--blasters drawn and lightsabers ignited, save for Palpatine's own. No, but perhaps Sidious's the greatest weapon was never his own lightsaber anyhow--but rather his voice, and his words. Both uplifted now, as the Chancellor points directly at Obi-Wan in accusation. "Fall back, Commander! You are in danger. There is evidence found which decrees Master Kenobi a traitor to the Republic--this cannot be tried in a court. He must be neutralized immediately!"
Cody doesn't believe him. --But hadn't Cody believed something, on that black day when Jedi had been executed across the galaxy? Obi-Wan knows exactly who headed that order to shoot him off the mountainside, that day on Utapau. But if the black box knows this too, it doesn't seem to care, and the Cody beside him is the loyal and honest commander that's fought at his side unflinching in all the Clone Wars' three useless years. The Cody beside him is confused--the Cody beside him objects--and even as the Senate guard opens fire, and the Temple guard draws forward with lightsabers whipping up, even still Cody remains by his side. ...They fight, for a time. There's no choice. Obi-Wan's appeals to the Senate troopers and Temple guard go unheard, impassive and ruthless behind their helmets and masks. Palpatine has melted away, somehow, between the tall marble columns of the atrium and out of sight no matter how Obi-Wan strains to find him--because Palpatine is key, here, Palpatine has always been key, right under their noses all this time and sending out orders just like this, and the heat stirs in the pit of his chest but Obi-Wan stills it with determination this time. Because he still remembers the last time, the sickening anger and daze of it.
He fails when he is angry. Obi-Wan will not be angry this time--that's not the Jedi way, and that is why he fails, surely. For awhile, it's easy enough--with Cody beside him, a friendly voice and equally outraged presence, they deal retaliation against their attackers with an ease of cooperation honed over years of mutual wartime service. The troopers fall, stunned--the Jedi crumple, unconscious--but then--
"He is a traitor, Commander. The time has come. Execute Order 66."
Sidious stands at the end of the hall, black-robed and gaunt again. And Cody stills, turns to him, shoulders dropping. "It will be done, my lord."
Commander Cody is not quite such a good shot as Captain Rex, but he certainly doesn't leave much to be desired, and Obi-Wan barely manages to deflect the blaster bolts as they come. Again, unbidden, feverish and helpless, anger seeps into Obi-Wan's parries--his voice, falling on deaf clone ears as Cody advances inexorable as any battle droid--and Sidious laughs, where he stands, and Obi-Wan rounds on him. Wonders, desperately, if the Sith Lord's death would be enough to break this terrible duress he wields over his commander, his finest soldier, his friend--
The Force can lend remarkable speed to the feet in need. Obi-Wan bolts down the atrium towards that shadow with lightsaber upraised--but, somehow, Cody is still faster. White-orange armor throws itself in front of the blackness, the gaunt knowing smile, and blue plasma drives through a chestplate as if nothing's there at all.
Failure.]
day 81, two minutes later; session 5
[The Jedi Temple, again--lights are dimmed and broken this time, though the floor is still pristine of bodies. The dark glimmer of Coruscant's night winks through tall windows; Obi-Wan stands by a pillar in one of the narrower halls, and next to him is Duchess Satine Kryze of Mandalore, robed and hooded and afraid, one hand in his, staring at him imploringly.
"Obi-Wan--I'm sorry, I shouldn't have--your own home! I never should have come here, and brought this madman with me. You shouldn't be in danger like this, I..."
It takes every modicum of Obi-Wan's willpower not to pull away, even before the words, the moment he sees her face--here the simulation has barely begun, and already an indignation stirs in him, at the underhandedness of all this. Cody was one thing, bad enough, but raising and voicing those who ought be at peace, even in a sim such as this--
No. But it is a test. He must remember this. And so he keeps her hand in his, warm and alive and gripping back as if nothing had ever happened and he had never failed her--and a Jedi's composure can be a remarkable thing, and so he assures her as warmly as he ever would have before. He doesn't ask Satine who it is she's brought with her (indeed, he already has a sinking enough suspicion); but instead, decides to get her out of the Temple first and foremost--the sooner they could reach contact for assistance against this threat, the better, as such logic would have gone. Together they set out, down the hall, Obi-Wan sure of his steps even in the dark with the Temple's layout as familiar to him as the back of his hand. One door here, flights of steps there, with nary a soul to stop them friendly or otherwise, no presence to be found even in the Force--they move quietly, and speak to each other in whispers, and Satine won't let go of his hand and he can't bear to pry her away, not even when he knows he should.
He can already half-guess what lies ahead, after all, and he can't even bring himself to be surprised when they finally reach one of the Temple's main entrances--a laugh breaks through the quiet at last, as its source drops down in front of the great doorway to greet them. Darth Maul--same intact legs, same idle grin, same murder in his eyes. "Oh, Kenobi. This again? I thought you'd had enough the last time. And yet again you bring your beloved friend, here for the reaping. How touching."
Obi-Wan's lightsaber is in his hand before he even realizes it, this time. And he ought to concentrate on calming, and focusing, and emptying, but somehow--for the first time in a long while--such concerns get a bit lost in the muddle, between gently uncurling Satine's hand from his own and telling her to hide, be safe, he'll take care of this--
As he should have before--
--And he's not empty at all, when Maul lunges forward and red locks with blue. It's not good, and Obi-Wan knows it, but somehow disengaging the strange, grimly ice-cold drive between each strike is more effort than he can yet spare, against Maul's blows. This is anger, but not like before, not like the last time--perhaps because he half-expects to meet it, now, and finds there's something far more important to deal with at this moment--and so the anger lodges, instead, pressed flat by a reluctance of ingrained Jed training and yet still fueling power into each blow, narrowing awareness into a fine point, a sharp point, aimed directly at Maul. A parry violent enough to bend an opposing wrist, and for a moment Maul is staggering back, surprise flickering onto his features as Obi-Wan advances, ice burning in his heart--failing to notice as Maul's eyes move to a point over his shoulder until it's too late.
"Obi-Wan--!"
The cold focus breaks, opens back up to the world at large and sends a jolt of sickening surprise through him. At Satine's voice Obi-Wan whips around just in time to see her lunging in front of the towering frame of Savage Opress--another Sith, Maul's brother, lesser-trained and a beacon of dark presence in the Force for it...presence that Obi-Wan hadn't even noticed. A red saberstaff whips an arc through the air, and Satine's robed figure crumples around the form of it. More fire follows soon after, from behind, as Maul makes his lunge--but Obi-Wan hardly feels it anyhow, as a lightsaber cleaves through his shoulder.
Failure.
Breathing into the dark of the dissolving simulation for a long minute, all he feels instead is the phantom warmth of Satine's touch in his palm.]
day 82; session 6
[A Temple courtyard. Obi-Wan recognizes it immediately the moment he spots the old tree in its carefully tended square before him, gold spiraling leaves on its boughs--this was often the ideal spot for many masters to run their padawans through lightsaber forms in the outdoors. But it's empty, now, just as the Temple had always been in all these black box sessions so far. ...Well, almost. Just as before. Footsteps ring out into the silence, from behind, and the presence that follows it sends a chill through him even before he turns to look. Ahsoka Tano looks just as he remembers her--the young Togruta stands atop the steps leading down to the courtyard now, and her arms are folded in a way so reminiscent of Anakin that it brings a sudden pang. The least of his concerns now, however; her expression is hard, her voice just the same as she speaks up.
"Master Kenobi? Hope you haven't forgotten me already." A stronger pang, this time--Obi-Wan stiffens, frowns, the expression pained. Of course he'd never forget her--he still--the Council decision back then, it wasn't--but Ahsoka presses forward before he can finish the words, starts down the steps stiff and angry. "Bit too late for all that, though, isn't it? To you the past shouldn't matter anyway--right? That's what all of you always taught me." Closer, now, hands moving to her belt and her lightsabers, and like a torch carried closer the presence of her anger seems to swell with every approaching step. "The Jedi taught me a lot of things. I tried my best to learn. Do you have a minute, Master? I need to know--have you ever been angry?"
Obi-Wan doesn't fall back, nor reach for his own belt. Despite the swift advance of the jarring persona so like and unlike his former padawan's apprentice, it's still Ahsoka--and Obi-Wan doesn't want this, even as he feels it impending. Ahsoka gives him no time to answer the question. "I think we all have, I mean--I think even the greatest Masters--we're people, after all, not droids, aren't we? You've gotta have been angry before. Master Skywalker has. And I have too. But I--" Ahsoka unhooks one lightsaber hilt form her belt, near the bottom of the steps, frowning at him. "--after I left the Temple, after what you guys did to me. I realized I have every right to be mad. And then I thought, what am I going to do with this? What do I do, Master?" Second lightsaber in other hand, as Ahsoka reaches the bottom of the steps. She ignites them both, wrists flicking them into that Shien reverse-grip Anakin used to lament to him about so much. And Obi-Wan stares at her, and the anger radiating from her, and he doesn't know what to say.]
Ahsoka, I won't fight you--
["I'm sorry, Master. But we have to, and you need to help me. What do I do, if I can't let go of my anger? When that's not a choice? The Order taught me how to put it away but not what to do if it's already there..." She sinks into a half-crouch, lip curling. "And now I need to--"
She always had been remarkably fast on her feet. Obi-Wan barely manages to ignite his lightsaber in time before she's all over him, Ataru acrobatics in full swing, twin green blades inches away from searing off his nose. He parries one blow, tries to bat her away, no offensive strikes--he doesn't want to fight her, he can't do this...but Ahsoka presses in, relentless. "Master, how do I control this?!"] You have to let go, Ahsoka! It's the only way. You must release your anger, it clouds-- [Plasma whips for his neck and Obi-Wan ducks, Force pushes her back, straightens breathless. Ahsoka staggers, skids, finds footing in the ground and crouches, teeth set. "What, like you did, those last few times? It doesn't work, Master! I can't let it go, and you haven't been able to let it go either! But in a fight, when I'm like this--" She springs into a leap, crashing into his block with all the weight and speed she can muster, sending him reeling. "--you could kill me right now, it'd be too easy--I was never trained for this and neither were you, and you could beat me. And they could beat you! Why won't you beat me, Master?!"
He can't. It's not his place. She rails at him for a bit longer, with angry words and half-tearful blows. Tells him Anakin might have needed to know this too, demands to know why the Order would never address this and failed to save him for it--and it'd be so easy to overpower her attacks with the simple patience of Soresu, but he doesn't. The Jedi tenants he speaks, implores, fall on deaf ears--he cannot help her, she insists, not like this, it's not enough--and a parry slips, and green drives into his chest.
Failure.
As the scene disintegrates into darkness yet again, Ahsoka's silhouette draws back from him with a trembling step, and the horror on her features dissolves into light and nothing.]
day 84; session 7
[It's night and he's outside again, standing before the arched main entrance to the Jedi Temple and looking out over the Processional Way's endless stairs. The four statues topping the way are lit like torches, and between them two figures approach, both darkly-robed, presences unmistakable, and--
Anakin strides up the steps beside Palpatine with his lightsaber in hand and--
Palpatine tells him to proceed and Anakin tells Obi-Wan to move out of the way and--
The anger is cold again, this time--Anakin's burns hotter, just as it had in Mustafar. Even like this, Obi-Wan could defeat him again, he thinks. But Sidious is there, and he tries to reach Sidious first, and that punctures the focus between them. Anakin wonders why Obi-Wan is even trying, if he doesn't really want to be angry, or use it--
But there's no balance in anger, surely. Only fear, and hate, and suffering, and that is the way of the Sith, he needs to let it go, he won't--
A lightsaber in his abdomen, plasma blue as a summer sky.
Failure.
He's almost glad. Breathes in the darkness of the black box on his knees; sniffs a bit, and scrubs at damp eyes with hands that don't stop shaking, and even despite everything he can't help but wonder if he ought to be glad--seeing a ghost of an old friend again for the first time in an eternity.
But the silence is lonely, and he draws himself to his feet and leaves.]
[Lightsaber wounds are difficult enough to forget when they leave real scars behind. Obi-Wan isn't entirely certain if he'll ever forget Sidious's blade burning through his heart--and that hadn't left behind anything behind at all. Funny, really, how some things work.
But after a week or so, upon finding the memory growing no less vivid with time, there's nothing for it but to try again. As others are. So he must. If he ever wishes to garner the approval he needs, in this place--]
day 81; session 4
[The first main atrium of the Jedi Temple; the lights are still intact, the floors polished and empty. Commander Cody stands beside him in full orange-striped armor, at perfect attention (as always), hands folded behind his back and helmet tilting in curiosity as he peers up at the architecture around. Obi-Wan stares at him, and Cody stares back. "Nice place, I guess," comes the tinny helmet-comm voice, mild and respectful as it's always been. "Almost cozy, and that's a surprise--er, no offense meant of course, sir." Visor tilts, peering back at him in curiosity. "But why meet here? Did the Chancellor say? I'd figure there'd be a mite more familiar security over at the Senate--"
The doors open behind them. In the light, robed figures--Palpatine with the amiable gentleman's visage now, two red-painted clones of the Senate guard flanking him, two robed and masked members of the Jedi Temple guard flanking those--blasters drawn and lightsabers ignited, save for Palpatine's own. No, but perhaps Sidious's the greatest weapon was never his own lightsaber anyhow--but rather his voice, and his words. Both uplifted now, as the Chancellor points directly at Obi-Wan in accusation. "Fall back, Commander! You are in danger. There is evidence found which decrees Master Kenobi a traitor to the Republic--this cannot be tried in a court. He must be neutralized immediately!"
Cody doesn't believe him. --But hadn't Cody believed something, on that black day when Jedi had been executed across the galaxy? Obi-Wan knows exactly who headed that order to shoot him off the mountainside, that day on Utapau. But if the black box knows this too, it doesn't seem to care, and the Cody beside him is the loyal and honest commander that's fought at his side unflinching in all the Clone Wars' three useless years. The Cody beside him is confused--the Cody beside him objects--and even as the Senate guard opens fire, and the Temple guard draws forward with lightsabers whipping up, even still Cody remains by his side. ...They fight, for a time. There's no choice. Obi-Wan's appeals to the Senate troopers and Temple guard go unheard, impassive and ruthless behind their helmets and masks. Palpatine has melted away, somehow, between the tall marble columns of the atrium and out of sight no matter how Obi-Wan strains to find him--because Palpatine is key, here, Palpatine has always been key, right under their noses all this time and sending out orders just like this, and the heat stirs in the pit of his chest but Obi-Wan stills it with determination this time. Because he still remembers the last time, the sickening anger and daze of it.
He fails when he is angry. Obi-Wan will not be angry this time--that's not the Jedi way, and that is why he fails, surely. For awhile, it's easy enough--with Cody beside him, a friendly voice and equally outraged presence, they deal retaliation against their attackers with an ease of cooperation honed over years of mutual wartime service. The troopers fall, stunned--the Jedi crumple, unconscious--but then--
"He is a traitor, Commander. The time has come. Execute Order 66."
Sidious stands at the end of the hall, black-robed and gaunt again. And Cody stills, turns to him, shoulders dropping. "It will be done, my lord."
Commander Cody is not quite such a good shot as Captain Rex, but he certainly doesn't leave much to be desired, and Obi-Wan barely manages to deflect the blaster bolts as they come. Again, unbidden, feverish and helpless, anger seeps into Obi-Wan's parries--his voice, falling on deaf clone ears as Cody advances inexorable as any battle droid--and Sidious laughs, where he stands, and Obi-Wan rounds on him. Wonders, desperately, if the Sith Lord's death would be enough to break this terrible duress he wields over his commander, his finest soldier, his friend--
The Force can lend remarkable speed to the feet in need. Obi-Wan bolts down the atrium towards that shadow with lightsaber upraised--but, somehow, Cody is still faster. White-orange armor throws itself in front of the blackness, the gaunt knowing smile, and blue plasma drives through a chestplate as if nothing's there at all.
Failure.]
day 81, two minutes later; session 5
[The Jedi Temple, again--lights are dimmed and broken this time, though the floor is still pristine of bodies. The dark glimmer of Coruscant's night winks through tall windows; Obi-Wan stands by a pillar in one of the narrower halls, and next to him is Duchess Satine Kryze of Mandalore, robed and hooded and afraid, one hand in his, staring at him imploringly.
"Obi-Wan--I'm sorry, I shouldn't have--your own home! I never should have come here, and brought this madman with me. You shouldn't be in danger like this, I..."
It takes every modicum of Obi-Wan's willpower not to pull away, even before the words, the moment he sees her face--here the simulation has barely begun, and already an indignation stirs in him, at the underhandedness of all this. Cody was one thing, bad enough, but raising and voicing those who ought be at peace, even in a sim such as this--
No. But it is a test. He must remember this. And so he keeps her hand in his, warm and alive and gripping back as if nothing had ever happened and he had never failed her--and a Jedi's composure can be a remarkable thing, and so he assures her as warmly as he ever would have before. He doesn't ask Satine who it is she's brought with her (indeed, he already has a sinking enough suspicion); but instead, decides to get her out of the Temple first and foremost--the sooner they could reach contact for assistance against this threat, the better, as such logic would have gone. Together they set out, down the hall, Obi-Wan sure of his steps even in the dark with the Temple's layout as familiar to him as the back of his hand. One door here, flights of steps there, with nary a soul to stop them friendly or otherwise, no presence to be found even in the Force--they move quietly, and speak to each other in whispers, and Satine won't let go of his hand and he can't bear to pry her away, not even when he knows he should.
He can already half-guess what lies ahead, after all, and he can't even bring himself to be surprised when they finally reach one of the Temple's main entrances--a laugh breaks through the quiet at last, as its source drops down in front of the great doorway to greet them. Darth Maul--same intact legs, same idle grin, same murder in his eyes. "Oh, Kenobi. This again? I thought you'd had enough the last time. And yet again you bring your beloved friend, here for the reaping. How touching."
Obi-Wan's lightsaber is in his hand before he even realizes it, this time. And he ought to concentrate on calming, and focusing, and emptying, but somehow--for the first time in a long while--such concerns get a bit lost in the muddle, between gently uncurling Satine's hand from his own and telling her to hide, be safe, he'll take care of this--
As he should have before--
--And he's not empty at all, when Maul lunges forward and red locks with blue. It's not good, and Obi-Wan knows it, but somehow disengaging the strange, grimly ice-cold drive between each strike is more effort than he can yet spare, against Maul's blows. This is anger, but not like before, not like the last time--perhaps because he half-expects to meet it, now, and finds there's something far more important to deal with at this moment--and so the anger lodges, instead, pressed flat by a reluctance of ingrained Jed training and yet still fueling power into each blow, narrowing awareness into a fine point, a sharp point, aimed directly at Maul. A parry violent enough to bend an opposing wrist, and for a moment Maul is staggering back, surprise flickering onto his features as Obi-Wan advances, ice burning in his heart--failing to notice as Maul's eyes move to a point over his shoulder until it's too late.
"Obi-Wan--!"
The cold focus breaks, opens back up to the world at large and sends a jolt of sickening surprise through him. At Satine's voice Obi-Wan whips around just in time to see her lunging in front of the towering frame of Savage Opress--another Sith, Maul's brother, lesser-trained and a beacon of dark presence in the Force for it...presence that Obi-Wan hadn't even noticed. A red saberstaff whips an arc through the air, and Satine's robed figure crumples around the form of it. More fire follows soon after, from behind, as Maul makes his lunge--but Obi-Wan hardly feels it anyhow, as a lightsaber cleaves through his shoulder.
Failure.
Breathing into the dark of the dissolving simulation for a long minute, all he feels instead is the phantom warmth of Satine's touch in his palm.]
day 82; session 6
[A Temple courtyard. Obi-Wan recognizes it immediately the moment he spots the old tree in its carefully tended square before him, gold spiraling leaves on its boughs--this was often the ideal spot for many masters to run their padawans through lightsaber forms in the outdoors. But it's empty, now, just as the Temple had always been in all these black box sessions so far. ...Well, almost. Just as before. Footsteps ring out into the silence, from behind, and the presence that follows it sends a chill through him even before he turns to look. Ahsoka Tano looks just as he remembers her--the young Togruta stands atop the steps leading down to the courtyard now, and her arms are folded in a way so reminiscent of Anakin that it brings a sudden pang. The least of his concerns now, however; her expression is hard, her voice just the same as she speaks up.
"Master Kenobi? Hope you haven't forgotten me already." A stronger pang, this time--Obi-Wan stiffens, frowns, the expression pained. Of course he'd never forget her--he still--the Council decision back then, it wasn't--but Ahsoka presses forward before he can finish the words, starts down the steps stiff and angry. "Bit too late for all that, though, isn't it? To you the past shouldn't matter anyway--right? That's what all of you always taught me." Closer, now, hands moving to her belt and her lightsabers, and like a torch carried closer the presence of her anger seems to swell with every approaching step. "The Jedi taught me a lot of things. I tried my best to learn. Do you have a minute, Master? I need to know--have you ever been angry?"
Obi-Wan doesn't fall back, nor reach for his own belt. Despite the swift advance of the jarring persona so like and unlike his former padawan's apprentice, it's still Ahsoka--and Obi-Wan doesn't want this, even as he feels it impending. Ahsoka gives him no time to answer the question. "I think we all have, I mean--I think even the greatest Masters--we're people, after all, not droids, aren't we? You've gotta have been angry before. Master Skywalker has. And I have too. But I--" Ahsoka unhooks one lightsaber hilt form her belt, near the bottom of the steps, frowning at him. "--after I left the Temple, after what you guys did to me. I realized I have every right to be mad. And then I thought, what am I going to do with this? What do I do, Master?" Second lightsaber in other hand, as Ahsoka reaches the bottom of the steps. She ignites them both, wrists flicking them into that Shien reverse-grip Anakin used to lament to him about so much. And Obi-Wan stares at her, and the anger radiating from her, and he doesn't know what to say.]
Ahsoka, I won't fight you--
["I'm sorry, Master. But we have to, and you need to help me. What do I do, if I can't let go of my anger? When that's not a choice? The Order taught me how to put it away but not what to do if it's already there..." She sinks into a half-crouch, lip curling. "And now I need to--"
She always had been remarkably fast on her feet. Obi-Wan barely manages to ignite his lightsaber in time before she's all over him, Ataru acrobatics in full swing, twin green blades inches away from searing off his nose. He parries one blow, tries to bat her away, no offensive strikes--he doesn't want to fight her, he can't do this...but Ahsoka presses in, relentless. "Master, how do I control this?!"] You have to let go, Ahsoka! It's the only way. You must release your anger, it clouds-- [Plasma whips for his neck and Obi-Wan ducks, Force pushes her back, straightens breathless. Ahsoka staggers, skids, finds footing in the ground and crouches, teeth set. "What, like you did, those last few times? It doesn't work, Master! I can't let it go, and you haven't been able to let it go either! But in a fight, when I'm like this--" She springs into a leap, crashing into his block with all the weight and speed she can muster, sending him reeling. "--you could kill me right now, it'd be too easy--I was never trained for this and neither were you, and you could beat me. And they could beat you! Why won't you beat me, Master?!"
He can't. It's not his place. She rails at him for a bit longer, with angry words and half-tearful blows. Tells him Anakin might have needed to know this too, demands to know why the Order would never address this and failed to save him for it--and it'd be so easy to overpower her attacks with the simple patience of Soresu, but he doesn't. The Jedi tenants he speaks, implores, fall on deaf ears--he cannot help her, she insists, not like this, it's not enough--and a parry slips, and green drives into his chest.
Failure.
As the scene disintegrates into darkness yet again, Ahsoka's silhouette draws back from him with a trembling step, and the horror on her features dissolves into light and nothing.]
day 84; session 7
[It's night and he's outside again, standing before the arched main entrance to the Jedi Temple and looking out over the Processional Way's endless stairs. The four statues topping the way are lit like torches, and between them two figures approach, both darkly-robed, presences unmistakable, and--
Anakin strides up the steps beside Palpatine with his lightsaber in hand and--
Palpatine tells him to proceed and Anakin tells Obi-Wan to move out of the way and--
The anger is cold again, this time--Anakin's burns hotter, just as it had in Mustafar. Even like this, Obi-Wan could defeat him again, he thinks. But Sidious is there, and he tries to reach Sidious first, and that punctures the focus between them. Anakin wonders why Obi-Wan is even trying, if he doesn't really want to be angry, or use it--
But there's no balance in anger, surely. Only fear, and hate, and suffering, and that is the way of the Sith, he needs to let it go, he won't--
A lightsaber in his abdomen, plasma blue as a summer sky.
Failure.
He's almost glad. Breathes in the darkness of the black box on his knees; sniffs a bit, and scrubs at damp eyes with hands that don't stop shaking, and even despite everything he can't help but wonder if he ought to be glad--seeing a ghost of an old friend again for the first time in an eternity.
But the silence is lonely, and he draws himself to his feet and leaves.]
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