The Eternal Emperor

Anakin stormed through the tower, each step filled with urgency and fear as he sensed Ahsoka ahead. The dark side permeated the air, its tendrils pulling at him, making every breath heavy, every thought clouded. His mind raced, fighting to keep control as he approached the entrance to the main hall. The door slid open, revealing Ahsoka standing in the center of the room—only, it wasn't his Ahsoka. Her skin was pale, her eyes glowing with a sinister yellow hue, corrupted by the dark side's touch. 

"Ahsoka…" Anakin called out softly, his heart sinking at the sight of her. "Ahsoka, it's me. You have to fight this." 

Her face remained expressionless, cold, as if she didn't even recognize him. There was no spark of the young woman who had followed him through battle after battle. Only darkness now. 

Without a word, Ahsoka ignited her lightsabers. The twin green blades hummed menacingly, reflecting the malicious gleam in her eyes. 

"Ahsoka, stop! This isn't you!" Anakin pleaded, but she didn't respond—her body tensed, and in an instant, she lunged forward, striking with a deadly precision that he had only seen in battle-hardened Sith. 

Anakin barely had time to ignite his own lightsaber to block her attack, their blades clashing with a burst of energy. The sound of the lightsabers hissed in the air as they crossed again and again. Anakin was on the defensive, his mind racing for a way to disarm her without hurting her. 

"Ahsoka! Don't do this!" he shouted, ducking beneath one of her strikes. She spun fluidly, pressing the attack. Her movements were faster, sharper than before, but they lacked the warmth, the hesitation of the Ahsoka he knew. 

The Son watched from the shadows, leaning against the far wall with a cruel smile on his lips. He relished the conflict, the emotional struggle tearing through Anakin. Every clash of their lightsabers only fueled his power, feeding the dark side within him. Anakin's fear, desperation, and fury—each were delicious. 

But the Son's enjoyment was short-lived as the Daughter burst into the hall, her radiant presence a sharp contrast to the darkness that enveloped the room. 

"Our father is dying... How could you do this?" she cried, her voice filled with pain as she looked at her brother. 

The Son sighed, his demeanor cold and detached. "He was just so selfish, Sister… and was taking so long to die, so I decided to move things along." 

"You..." the Daughter began, fury and sorrow in her eyes. "I won't let you leave this planet." 

The Son straightened and smiled, his eyes gleaming with condescension. "You are not strong enough to keep me here." 

"Not alone she isn't." A voice echoed through the hall, and Obi-Wan Kenobi appeared from the shadows, his calm determination evident as he stepped into the light. 

The Son's smile twisted into a mocking grin. "Are you referring to your friend, the Chosen One? I believe you will find him... preoccupied." He gestured toward the window that overlooked the courtyard, where Ahsoka and Anakin's lightsabers clashed with increasing ferocity. 

Obi-Wan's heart dropped as he glanced through the window, seeing Anakin locked in combat with Ahsoka, their movements growing more desperate with each passing second. 

Without wasting another moment, Obi-Wan dashed toward the door, urgency in every step as he made his way to the courtyard. 

The Son, amused, turned his gaze back to his sister. "Can you feel it, Sister? The hate? The fury?" he whispered, his voice like a serpent coiling around her. "The conflict is feeding me, isn't it?" 

The Daughter's eyes flared with righteous anger. She tried to move, to intervene, but before she could take a step, the Son raised his hand. A powerful force wrapped around her, lifting her into the air, her limbs frozen as she struggled against his power. 

"I don't think so," the Son said with a low growl, red lightning flickering between his fingers as he held his sister in place, ensuring she couldn't interfere. 

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Back at the Temple, the Father lay unconscious, his body motionless until his eyes slowly fluttered open. The pain of his injuries was overwhelming, but he forced himself to rise. He stumbled through the corridors, intent on finding his children, on preventing further disaster. 

But as he approached the exit of the temple, he came to a sudden halt. A powerful, invisible barrier blocked his path, shimmering faintly in the Force. Confused and frustrated, the Father turned, his gaze scanning the room. Then, he saw Lelouch. 

Lelouch sat on a white throne, calm and composed, his legs crossed casually. It was a place the Father had often meditated in, yet now it had been claimed by this...intruder. 

"You... you are the one," the Father said, his voice weak but edged with recognition. "The presence I could not pinpoint." 

Lelouch smiled faintly, a half-smirk that carried both arrogance and amusement. "Partially true... though the nagging sensation you've felt should have come from my better half," he said, his gaze shifting momentarily behind the Father. 

The Father barely had time to react before he felt an excruciating pain sear through his back. He looked down, his eyes widening as a massive, clawed hand pierced through his torso. The dark, armored gauntlet seemed to pulsate with malevolent energy. 

A horrible, dark laughter echoed inside his mind, a voice invading his thoughts, ripping through his consciousness, devouring everything in its path. The Father gasped, his strength failing as his very essence was torn apart. The cracks in his body spread, his form shattering like fragile glass as the darkness consumed him, leaving nothing behind from him. 

Lelouch remained seated, watching with cold indifference. 

A moment later, Tzeentch materialized beside him, a hand in Lelouche's shoulder as he felt a massive strain on him for a moment, his body almost giving out as he slumped in the makeshift throne he had created. 

"Hehehe... One step closer," Tzeentch's voice slithered through the air, a cruel grin spreading beneath the helm. "Now, neither your master nor the Chosen One will rival you in the Force. But be cautious—outside of Mortis, bending reality may not come so easily." 

Lelouch exhaled slowly. 

He rolled his neck, the tension melting away as his power swelled within him, stronger than ever before. 

An invisible pressure exerted itself. 

With a mere thought, an overwhelming pressure erupted outward from him. The floor beneath his feet cracked and splintered, the shockwave tearing through the temple with raw, unfathomable power. Walls crumbled, columns disintegrated, and the very mountain that housed the temple began to split apart. 

As the destruction surged out in every direction, debris and dust spiraled through the air—until, suddenly, everything froze. Rocks, shattered stone, and fractured pillars hovered in suspended animation. Lelouch, unbothered by the carnage, calmly walked through the ruins, the rubble parting effortlessly before him 

Reaching the edge of the platform of the now-broken temple, Lelouch took one step into the abyss, and in the blink of an eye, he vanished—disappearing into the fabric of reality itself. 

The moment he was gone, the suspended fragments of the temple shifted. With a deafening rush, they flew back into place, stone snapping back together, cracks sealing as if they had never existed. In mere seconds, the temple stood once more, restored to its former glory, though now without its ancient guardian. 

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The Daughter felt the disturbance before she saw it. A ripple in the Force, unfamiliar and cold, stretched through the air like the first hint of a storm. She turned sharply, her emerald eyes widening as Lelouch appeared in the main hall of the tower, his presence dark and heavy—an intruder in a place that should have been untouchable. 

At first, she could hardly believe it. Mortis was a sanctuary, a prison, and a realm beyond the reach of outsiders. Yet, there he stood, his dark form flickering into existence as if it had always belonged there. The Son had felt it too, his head snapping toward Lelouch, his expression briefly one of surprise—then suspicion. 

But before either of them could act, a crushing weight descended upon her mind. It was as if an unseen hand had gripped her thoughts, pressing down with overwhelming force. The Daughter gasped, stumbling back as her connection to the Force—so natural, so inherent—was ripped away from her grasp. She tried to reach out, to summon the comforting light she had always known, but it was blocked, suffocated by the oppressive power radiating from this new presence. 

The Son, beside her, struggled as well. His eyes glowed with rage, but even he seemed powerless to resist the unseen force that bore down on them both. His defiance meant nothing against the sheer magnitude of what now confronted them. 

And then, the air in the room shimmered. Someone—no, something—was emerging from the shadows, more terrifying than anything she had felt before. The distortion twisted, and from it, Tzeentch materialized, its form dark and malevolent, casting a looming shadow across the room. The Daughter felt a jolt of fear deep within her. She had never felt such an overwhelming presence, not even from her father or her brother. This...this was something else entirely... and yet... it gave the same feeling as the young man standing behind it if she truly focused on it. 

Tzeentch's form solidified into an armored figure... and then... then came the attack. 

Before she could blink, a torrent of raw energy exploded from Tzeentch. The shockwave struck her like a hammer. Her and her brother's body were hurled through the air, slamming into the stone walls of the tower. The force of the impact shattered the wall, and before she could gather her thoughts, she was plummeting downward, her limbs flailing as she tumbled uncontrollably through the sky. 

Her body crashed into the courtyard, skipping across the ground like a stone tossed into a pond. She felt the earth shatter beneath her with each impact, the pain of each collision radiating through her. By the time she finally came to a stop, she could barely comprehend what had happened. Her mind swirled in confusion, trying to process the overwhelming force that had struck her. 

Dazed and gasping, the Daughter struggled to her knees. Her once radiant white form was bruised and battered. She looked over to see her brother, the Son, lying crumpled beside her, equally thrown by the blast. His eyes were wide, glowing with rage and disbelief. 

They had been powerful, both of them—entities tied to the very essence of the Force itself. And yet, they had been nothing against this... this intruder. 

The courtyard was unnervingly quiet, save for the faint hum of lightsabers. She looked up and saw Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Ahsoka Tano, all frozen in place, their battle interrupted by the sudden chaos. The Son's twisted plan, Ahsoka's corruption—it all seemed insignificant now in the presence of the force that had thrown everything into disarray. 

Her heart pounded as she gazed at the tower. There, at the gaping hole in the wall, stood Lelouch, his white figure outlined against the dim light. He had barely moved, his eyes cold and distant, but his presence was undeniable. And beside him, fully corporeal, was Tzeentch—a force of pure chaos, watching them all with unblinking eyes.