Suddenly, the air shimmered. Mother Gothel—or Dora, as the princess knew her—materialized out of the gloom. She looked radiant, her beauty sharpened to a lethal edge, but Karinne met her gaze with cold fury.

«You have caused us enough trouble, Dora,» Karinne spat, her voice echoing off the damp walls. «Move these rocks. Now.»

Dora tilted her head with a chilling, bird-like curiosity. «Rocks? I don’t see any rocks.» She turned her back to the princess, her eyes scanning the empty shadows. «Do you see them?» she whispered to the void, as if consulting invisible ghosts. «Where? Show me.»

Karinne planted her hands on her hips, her blood boiling. «I’m right here, your creepiness!» she snapped, the insult sharp enough to cut through the eerie atmosphere.

Dora spun back slowly. In her hand, a silver blade glinted, catching a stray beam of light. A sinister, toothy smile spread across her face. «Will you help me take the advantage?»

Karinne recoiled, her heart hammering against her ribs. «What are you talking about?»

A sudden, panicked thundering of boots erupted from deep within the tunnels. Kylo burst into the light, his face pale and eyes wide with terror. «We have to get out of here!» he shrieked. «The cave is haunted!»

He skidded to a halt beside his sister, but Karinne was frozen like a statue. She was locked in a hypnotic stare with the figure before them. Dora’s smile grew wider, more monstrous.

«No one is more haunting than me!» the witch hissed.

Kylo grabbed Karinne’s hand, his grip desperate. «If she’s the threat, we need to move! Come on!»

But Karinne didn’t budge. Her shock began to melt into a hard, diamond-like resolve. She narrowed her eyes, staring straight into the abyss of Dora’s pupils. «You think I’m afraid of you? I am not!»

«Karinne!» Kylo yelled, tugging at her arm. «What are you doing? We need to run!»

«No!» Karinne reached down to her boot, her fingers closing around the hilt of a concealed weapon. She whipped it out in one fluid motion. «We are more powerful than you!»

Dora’s brow furrowed, her confidence flickering. «What?»

Inspired by his sister’s defiance, Kylo stepped forward, his sword singing as he unsheathed it. The fear in his voice was replaced by a roar. «Yeah! Because we outrank you!»

Dora’s eyes flashed like lightning, her sinister aura crackling and then—suddenly—withering away. The shadows that danced around her began to dissipate.

«You haven’t seen the last of me!» she shrieked, her voice warping as she began to fade into the mist. «I’ll be back!»

«No, you won’t,» Karinne vowed, her voice low and steady.

With a final, piercing hiss, Dora vanished, leaving the siblings alone in the sudden, ringing silence of the cave.

The sky over the Realm of the Storm didn’t just rain; it bled shadows. The ozone-heavy air hummed with the aftershocks of a battle that had defied the laws of their own universe.

Zilla’s knees hit the jagged stone as she watched the Mayor and the Witch recoil. The betrayal was absolute, but the cost was higher.

«Ventress!» Zilla’s scream was torn away by a sudden, violent gust of wind. She scrambled across the slick ground, reaching for the fallen assassin.

Nearby, the hiss of a lightsaber died out. Anakin Skywalker stood like a statue amidst the swirling mist, the blue glow fading as his hilt clicked onto his belt. He didn’t look back at the carnage.

«That’s what she gets,» he mumbled, his voice cold, a sharp contrast to the thunder rolling above. «For threatening my sister.»

Ahsoka—young, disoriented, and swaying on her feet—stumbled toward him. The haze of the Witch’s spell was still clearing from her mind.

«Skyguy?» she whispered, pressing a hand to her temple. «I’m… I’m awake now, too.»

Anakin’s expression softened for a fleeting second as he looked at her. «Good. It’s time for us to return to our own realm.»

«How?» Ahsoka asked, glancing at the darkening horizon where the storm seemed to be folding in on itself.

«It was all part of her plan.» Anakin lifted his gaze toward the wounded Ventress, a grim smirk touching his lips. «She knew all along how to get back. We just have to be ourselves. No more roles, no more spells. Just us.»

At the edge of the clearing, Zilla finally reached Ventress. As she extended a trembling hand, the assassin’s eyes snapped open, burning with yellow malice and redirected pain.

«Get lost!» Ventress snarled, her voice a jagged blade. She shoved Zilla back with a weak surge of the Force. «Don’t trick me into thinking you care!»

«But I do care!» Zilla shouted over a roar of thunder. She didn’t flinch. «I believe in you, Asajj. I know there’s still some good in your heart, even here in the dark.»

Ventress’s lip curled, but for the first time, her gaze wavered.

Anakin didn’t wait to see the outcome. He stepped to Ahsoka’s side, firmly placing an arm around his Padawan’s shoulder, anchoring her to the reality they belonged to.

«Let’s go,» he commanded.

The air began to shimmer—a rift of pure, white light cracking through the purple storm clouds. As they were pulled toward the breach, Ahsoka looked back one last time at the two figures huddled on the ground—the girl who refused to give up and the monster who didn’t know how to be saved.

«Will they be fine?» Ahsoka asked, her voice small.

Anakin watched the rift swallow the horizon, his eyes distant.

«Yes.»

With a deafening crack of lightning, the Realm of the Storm vanished, leaving nothing behind but the echo of a scream and the scent of ozone.

The sky over the Realm of the Storm was a bruised purple, torn apart by jagged streaks of lightning that never seemed to strike the ground. Zilla stood amidst the swirling dust, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

She turned slowly. There, standing a few paces away, was the man she knew as Lars.

But the air around him had changed. The gentle, wandering soul she had met weeks ago was gone. In his place stood someone with a piercing, icy gaze and a posture of iron. He was no longer Lars; the moment his fingers had brushed the cold metal of the lightsaber, the floodgates of his past had burst open. He was Anakin Skywalker once more.

Zilla didn’t know that. To her, he was just a man who had brought her nothing but pain. Her hand dropped to the weapon at her belt, her fingers tightening around the hilt.

“What are you doing here?” she shouted, her voice trembling with a mix of fury and fear. “Are you following me?”

“Zilla…” he started, his voice deeper, carrying the weight of a thousand battles.

“I know where this is going!” she cut him off, her eyes flashing grimly. “If you are here for an assault, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave. Now!”

“Zilla, listen to me!”

Ignoring him, she drew her weapon in one fluid motion, leveling it at his chest. The tip wavered slightly, but her gaze remained fixed. “You have hurt me enough! You don’t get to come any closer!”

Anakin’s brow furrowed. The confusion of his dual memories—the peaceful life of Lars and the violent destiny of Skywalker—clashed in his mind. He took a step forward, his jaw set.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” he shouted back, the roar of a distant thunderclap punctuating his words. “I’m not the villain here, Zilla—you are!”

The accusation hit her like a physical blow. She lowered the weapon an inch, her expression flickering from rage to genuine bewilderment. “What? How… how come you don’t know?”

Anakin let out a long, weary sigh. The intensity in his eyes softened into something like pity. “You never talk about your feelings,” he said, his voice dropping to a low growl. “How are we supposed to know what you feel if you keep it all locked away?”

Zilla looked away, her gaze drifting toward the dark horizon where the shadows of the past seemed to linger. A bitter smile touched her lips.

“I shared them with Ventress,” she whispered, the name hanging in the air like a curse. “She’d understand.”

Anakin froze. The name of the Sith assassin sent a jolt of shock through him. “Ventress?!”

But Zilla didn’t wait for his reaction. She didn’t want to see the judgment or the horror in his eyes.

“Goodbye… Lars,” she choked out.

Before he could reach out, before he could explain that Lars was gone and Anakin had returned, she bolted. She vanished into the swirling mist of the storm, leaving him standing alone in the gray light.

Anakin stood there for a long time, watching the spot where she had disappeared. He shook his head slowly, a heavy sense of dread settling in his chest.

“No…” he whispered to the wind. “Not her.”

The air in the cave grew thick with the smell of wet earth and ancient magic. As the echoes of Mother Gothel’s laughter bounced off the walls, a violent tremor shook the ground, sending a cascade of gold coins clattering like hailstones.

Dora—no, Mother Gothel—looked nothing like the girl they had traveled with. Her red dress seemed to pulse with a dark light, and her eyes held the predatory gleam of someone who had waited centuries for this moment.

“You thought this was about a captain?” Gothel sneered, twirling her wand. “This cave isn’t a treasury. It’s a tomb. And it requires a royal sacrifice to stay sealed.”

“Run!” Kylo roared, grabbing Karinne’s arm just as a massive stalactite shattered the ground where they had stood a second before.

As they sprinted deeper into the collapsing cavern, the piles of gold became obstacles, shifting like treacherous sand beneath their boots. Karinne’s mind was a whirlwind—not of greed anymore, but of the impossible truth Kylo had dropped.

“If Hook is my father,” Karinne screamed over the roar of falling rock, “why did he leave me with a mother who didn’t want me?”

“He didn’t leave you!” Kylo shouted back, parrying a burst of magical energy from Gothel with his steel blade. “He was banished! This whole realm is a cage, Karinne, and Gothel is the jailer!”

They reached a dead end where the cave wall was etched with a giant, glowing anchor. Behind them, Gothel raised her wand, her face contorting into a mask of age and fury.

“You aren’t leaving this realm, little princess!” she screamed, unleashing a wave of dark fire.

“Trust me!” Kylo yelled. He didn’t point his sword at Gothel; he slammed the hilt into the center of the glowing anchor.

For a heartbeat, time stopped. The gold at their feet liquified into a swirling vortex of blue light—a portal disguised as treasure.

“Jump!”

Karinne looked at the fire coming from behind and the void beneath her. She grabbed Kylo’s hand, realizing that for the first time in her life, she wasn’t alone. Together, they plunged into the light just as the cave ceiling finally gave way, burying Mother Gothel’s screams under a mountain of stone.

They didn’t hit rock. They hit salt water.

Karinne surfaced, gasping for air, to see a massive wooden hull towering over them. High above, a flag with a skull and crossbones fluttered against a blood-red sky.

A heavy rope ladder splashed into the water beside them. And from the deck, a voice like gravel and velvet called out:

“Kylo? Did you find her?”

“That was terrifying!” Zilla gasped, her chest heaving as she reached the shadows of the bridge. Her sanctuary was a meager tent, cobbled together from the jagged, salt-crusted remains of a shipwreck’s canvas.

She collapsed onto the dirt, her eyes fixed on the black, swirling waters of the lake below. “I’ll never…” she whispered into the damp air, “I’ll never do that again.”

“Out here talking to yourself, Apprentice?”

The voice sliced through the sound of the wind—cold, familiar, and mocking. Zilla scrambled to her feet, her heart hammering against her ribs. Ventress stood there, draped in shadows, her presence as sharp as a blade.

“Uh… oh… what are you doing here?” Zilla stammered, backing toward the canvas walls of her home.

“Checking on a friend,” Ventress said, though her eyes remained predatory. “How are you holding up? Did the lightsaber work? Did the old man finally claw back his memories?”

Zilla’s breath hitched. The memory of the crackling energy and the look in his eyes flashed before her. “I don’t know… but… it was all just so scary…”

“Then it worked,” Ventress purred, a thin, cruel smile tugging at her lips. “If it hadn’t, nothing would have happened at all. Silence is the only true failure.”

Zilla felt a chill that had nothing to do with the storm. “What are you really doing here?” she demanded, her voice trembling but defiant. “I don’t want to talk to you. Leave.”

Ventress didn’t flinch. Instead, her gaze shifted past Zilla, locking onto a figure emerging from the mist. Lars was approaching, his silhouette heavy with purpose.

“There he comes,” Ventress hissed, her tone dripping with sudden malice. “Ta-ta, for now.”

In a blur of motion, she vanished into the dark, leaving Zilla alone to face whatever version of Lars had just returned from the void.

The Main Realm was a crossroads of existence—a place where souls simply appeared, untethered from their pasts.

Among its jagged landscapes stood an unlikely alliance: the gaunt, cadaverous Captain Hook and the cold, calculating Blackbeard. Rivals by nature, they were now bound by a singular purpose: to stop two children from wading into waters far deeper than they could survive.

Karinne and Kylo hurried toward the mountain that loomed on the frozen edge of Winterland. They were seeking a legend—an eponymous pirate king, the undisputed sovereign of the Seven Seas.

Tales spoke of an ancient saber and a monstrous, giant creature with a single, terrifying tooth. These were the hallmarks of the most fearsome being in the realms, known only as…

“I can’t remember his name,” Kylo admitted, his voice shivering in the mountain air.

“His name isn’t important,” Karinne reassured him, her eyes darting around. “In fact, I’m glad you forgot. We must not speak it.”

“Because he’ll come for us? Before we can reach him?”

“Exactly. And if he finds us first…” She trailed off, shaking her head.

“Toothycat! Toothycat!” a voice chirped from ahead. Dora was skipping along the path, seemingly oblivious to the tension. “Toothycat, where are you?”

“Toothycat?” the other two repeated in a shocked unison. “Who on earth is that?”

“My talking buddy from Wonderland,” Dora replied casually. “My sister used to live there.”

“And who is your sister?” Karinne asked, her suspicion growing.

Dora turned, her expression one of mild surprise. “Why, it’s Alice, of course. I thought you knew.”

“No… you never mentioned that. But then again, nothing here is what it seems.”

“Stop right there!”

A dark, gravelly voice boomed from the shadows of the road ahead. The children froze. Emerging from the mist were two pirate captains, their silhouettes tall and menacing, blocking the path like twin towers of iron.

In the blink of an eye, Dora vanished. One moment she was there; the next, she had evaporated into the thin mountain air as the pirates approached.

“You will go no further!” Captain Hook declared, his hook glinting in the pale light. “This path leads only to heartbreak and misery.”

“Who are you to stop us?” Karinne snapped, her jaw set. “We’re looking for the only one who knows how to bring people back from the Other Dimension.”

“And my father!” Kylo added defiantly. “I haven’t seen him since the Great Storm.”

“Then this is your lucky day,” Hook said, his gaze softening as he looked down at the boy.

Hook was a man of many masks. At the Academy, he had been Captain Youthful; to those who truly loved him, he was Killian Jones. He was Kylo’s father, and he had never been taken by the rift. But standing there in his grim disguise, he couldn’t let his son see the truth—not yet.

“Your lucky day,” he repeated.

Kylo narrowed his eyes, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Follow the trail to the mountain’s peak. The legends and the gold may be there, but beware of what lurks in the—”

“Thank you!” Karinne interrupted, grabbing Kylo’s arm. “We have to move. Now.”

“Wait!” Kylo called back, glancing over his shoulder. “Your voice… it sounds so familiar. What is your name?”

Hook remained silent, a pained shadow crossing his face. “I promise you, son: you will find your father. In due time. Farewell.”

The children pressed on. After they had covered a quarter-mile, Dora flickered back into existence beside them.

“What was that all about?” she asked. “The pirates, I mean?”

“How should we know?” Karinne muttered.

“A distraction,” Kylo stated firmly. “They wanted to lead us astray, but we won’t be fooled.”

Dora nodded slowly. “Right!”

Karinne looked at the boy, a seed of doubt planting itself in her mind. “Are you a hundred percent sure about that?”

“Trust me, Princess,” Kylo said. “I know these things.”

They reached the base of the mountain, where the jagged mouth of a cave yawned open, waiting for them. As the children stepped into the darkness, they didn’t see the change in their companion.

Dora lingered at the entrance, a slow, creepy smile spreading across her face. She stayed in the light as the others were swallowed by the gloom.

“It’s the end of the path,” she thought, her eyes glinting with a sudden, sharp malice. “This is where the real fun begins.”

In the realm of forgotten memories, the air felt heavy with unspoken truths. Zilla had been toiling at the grease-stained diner for days, her eyes constantly scanning for the promised reward: Ventress and the lightsaber.

The bell above the door chimed. Lars and Ahsla entered, their presence cutting through the mundane chatter of the guests. They settled at a table, snapping open their menus. Zilla watched them like a hawk, her movements clinical as she wiped down nearby tables, masking her scrutiny behind a veil of service.

When they finally closed the menus, Zilla pounced. She approached with a notepad and pen, her voice a practiced customer-service lilt.

“Hi. Can I take your order, please?”

Lars looked up, his brow furrowing into a deep scowl. “You again?” He crossed his arms, leaning back. “Don’t you have anything better to do than barge into people’s lives?”

“Lars!” Ahsla snapped, her eyes wide with embarrassment. “You’re being rude on purpose!”

“Maybe,” Lars muttered, his gaze hardening. “But she needs to hear it.”

Zilla felt a surge of frustration. “I’m just trying to be nice. Now, are you going to order or not?”

With a heavy sigh, Lars gave in. “Two burgers. Please.”

“Noted,” Zilla clipped. She turned on her heel and strode to the kitchen. “Two burgers for table nine!” she shouted to the chef.

She spent the next few minutes prepping vegetables, her mind racing. Suddenly, the chef’s bell rang. “Order up! Table nine!”

Zilla grabbed the plates, the heat of the ceramic burning through her gloves. She set them down before Lars with a sharp clatter. “Here you go.”

Lars narrowed his eyes. “I hope you’re enjoying your day,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I didn’t realize you worked here now.”

Zilla straightened her back, her chin high. “I do. But you should be careful how you talk to a waitress. You might find your food is… extra hot today.”

“What?”

“Enjoy. Goodbye.” She left him gaping and retreated to the kitchen.

As the shift ended and the light began to fail, the door opened again. It wasn’t a customer. Asajj Ventress stood in the center of the diner, her presence commanding and cold.

Zilla’s heart hammered. She’s looking for me.

Ventress smiled, a thin, dangerous line. “Job done. Here is the lightsaber.”

Zilla took the hilt, its cold metal heavy in her hand. She mumbled a thank you and slid it up her sleeve.

“You can go home now,” Ventress said, her voice silk. “If you even have a home?”

“Of course I do,” Zilla lied, pride stinging. “Under the toll-bridge by the station.”

“Adieu, Zilla,” Ventress whispered. “Until we meet again.”

Night had fallen, and a biting frost gripped the air. Zilla hurried through the dark streets toward the house she had been watching. She clutched the lightsaber hilt, her knuckles white. Time to get your memory back, Skyguy.

She reached the door and pressed the bell. It rang with a haunting, melodic chime. The door swung open, and Lars stood there, silhouetted against the warm light of a life he didn’t belong to.

“What do you want?” he barked.

“I came to give you this,” Zilla said, her voice trembling. She held out the hilt. “It’s yours. It will help you remember.”

“Remember what?” He snatched the metal tube from her, his movements aggressive. “What, Zilla? What?”

Zilla watched his eyes, searching for a spark, a flicker of recognition. Nothing. Just the dull confusion of a man named Lars.

“I… I don’t understand,” she whispered, tears of frustration blurring her vision. “It was supposed to work.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Ventress… she tricked me…”

“What does the Mayor have to do with any of this?”

“I’m sorry,” Zilla sobbed. “I’m so sorry, Anakin…”

“That’s not my name, kid!”

Ahsla appeared in the doorway, her face pale. “What’s going on? Sister!”

“She was just leaving,” Lars growled, stepping forward. “I’m warning you: don’t come back here.”

“But Anakin, please! You have to remember!”

“That’s enough!” Lars shoved the lightsaber back into her chest. “This? This is just a piece of junk!”

“It is your life!” Zilla screamed.

“Stop!” Ahsla cried out, running toward them. “Zilla, stop. Please. Just leave us alone.”

Lars turned his back on her. “Come on, Ahsla. Let’s go.”

But halfway to the door, Lars stopped dead. His body seized. He collapsed to his knees, his head snapping back. His eyes rolled into his head until only the terrifying, stark white of the sclera remained.

“Lars!” Ahsla screamed. She spun on Zilla, her face twisted in a mask of fury. “What did you do to him?”

Terrified, Zilla backed away into the shadows. She turned and bolted into the night, the sound of Ahsla’s screams echoing behind her. “I promise you, Zilla! You will pay for this!”

On the porch, Ahsla grabbed her brother’s shoulders, shaking him. “Look at me, Lars! Please!”

Lars exhaled a long, shuddering breath. Slowly, his eyes rolled back down. They were no longer dull. A sharp, piercing blue light seemed to burn within them—a gaze that had seen a thousand wars.

He tilted his head, looking at the girl in front of him with a haunting familiarity.

“Ahsoka?” he whispered.

Ahsla’s breath hitched, her brow furrowing in confusion. “What?”

In the shadowed Realm of mystery, where the trees seemed to whisper old warnings, Kylo and Karinne were mid-scavenge when she appeared.

She stepped out from the rot, a vicious smile cutting across her face. Her black, curly hair spilled over her shoulders like tangled ink. Beside her stood a monkey with restless eyes, and strapped to her back was a purple pack that pulsed with an odd rhythm. Tucked into its side, a map with a drawn-out face blinked at the children.

“What are you children doing here?” she asked, her voice like grinding stones. “Don’t you realize you’re standing before the most dangerous woman in the realms?”

Kylo didn’t flinch. He slowly shook his head. “No. We don’t believe that. If you were truly dangerous, you wouldn’t feel the need to admit it.”

“Yeah!” Karinne chimed in, crossing her arms.

Dora’s smile didn’t falter; it grew sharper. “Well… you still haven’t told me what brings two snacks like you into these woods.”

“We’re finding out what happened to my father,” Kylo stated, his voice tight. “Whether the curse took him… and if it didn’t, where he’s hiding.”

Dora leaned in, her presence cold. “You’d better run along then. Because if you don’t, I will be the last thing you ever see.”

Karinne just waved a hand dismissively. “Nah. We aren’t scared. But maybe you can be useful—do you know anything about a pirate living nearby? We think he has answers.”

Dora’s expression turned predatory. “How dangerous is this pirate of yours?”

“The most dangerous one,” Karinne replied. “Skin as white as a ghost. Clad in black and gold.”

Dora froze for a heartbeat. “Are you talking about…” She stopped herself, a low chuckle vibrating in her chest. “Ah, I know him. But you won’t get anywhere near him. The very atmosphere around him is a death sentence.”

Karinne just scoffed. “We know how pirates are. They’re all talk and tall tales. He won’t be a threat to us; we are only going to ask for his help.”

“Then you aren’t traveling without me,” Dora said suddenly. The shift in her tone made the children gasp.

“I thought you said you would be the last thing we see,” Kylo reminded her, his eyes narrowing.

Dora straightened up, looming over them. “That’s right! That’s why I’m coming with you. Because at the end of this road, once you have what you want, I will simply turn on you.”

“Still not convinced,” Karinne said, though her voice wavered slightly. “That’s just a bad joke.”

“Carry on then,” Dora whispered, her eyes gleaming with an eerie light. “And you’ll see. You’ll see that I am everything I claim to be. I know the captain you’re seeking quite well, because he and I are a team.”

Karinne looked at Kylo, then back at the mysterious woman. “Very well. Let’s go.”

Zilla had always hated lists. Lists were designed to make people feel small—if your name wasn’t on it, you didn’t exist. She refused to let that drain her joy, but it was hard to stay positive when the world itself seemed to have erased her.

If her name wasn’t on the list of this life, then this life simply wasn’t hers.

The Realm of the Lost

“You’ll never catch me alive! Or…” Zilla froze as the cold bite of steel pressed against her shoulder blades. She looked up at the circle of guards, their spears gleaming under the harsh light. “…now that I think about it, I much prefer being alive.”

The Mayor’s Office

Moments later, Zilla found herself in a different kind of trap: the plush, suffocating office of the town’s Mayor.

Asajj Ventress leaned across the mahogany desk, her eyes tracking Zilla’s every breath. “Your pain is real, my child,” Ventress said, her voice like silk over gravel. “The ache you feel for your dearest ones… it is not a shadow.”

Zilla kept her head down, her voice trembling. “I’m just glad it’s not all in my head. I couldn’t bear holding it all inside anymore.”

Ventress reached out, sliding her hand over Zilla’s. “You can trust me. I am your friend.”

Zilla sighed, finally meeting the Mayor’s gaze. “I’m just… I’m glad someone finally sees me. I went to their door, and they pushed me away like a stranger. My own sister looked right through me. She didn’t even know who I was.”

“It is a heavy burden, these new identities,” Ventress said solemnly. “But this is the world now. You must understand that.”

Zilla snatched her hand back, her eyes flashing. “I don’t understand! I don’t understand how you could rip everything away! I’m not some stray cat you can just leave on the street. I want you to fix this. Make it right again!”

Ventress rose slowly, the air in the room turning cold. She walked around the desk with predatory grace. “There was a reason I cast the curse, Zilla. I wanted power. Absolute power. And now,” she smiled thinly, “I have it.”

“You monster!” Zilla stood up, her chair screeching against the floor. “I’m alone because of you! My whole life has been a struggle, and you just made it a nightmare!”

Ventress began to clap. Slow. Rhythmic. Mocking.

“And yet, you seem to have turned out quite well despite it,” Ventress purred.

Zilla forced herself to breathe, looking toward the ceiling to hide her tears. “Maybe. But I want Anakin back. I want my sister. Please… just give them their memories. Let them remember who they are.”

Ventress clicked her tongue. “It’s not that simple, dearie. They aren’t who they were. They are Lars and Ashla now. And besides,” she lied smoothly, “I have no magic left in this town. My hands are tied.”

“Then I’m wasting my time!” Zilla snapped, turning on her heel to leave.

“Wait.” Ventress’s laughter stopped her cold. “I might have something that could help. After all, you’re like a sister to me. I care for you, in my way.”

The Mayor reached for a heavy box on a high shelf and flipped the lid. Zilla’s eyes widened, her heart skipping a beat. Lying in the velvet lining was Anakin’s lightsaber.

“Where did you get that?” Zilla whispered.

“If ‘Lars’ touches this,” Ventress chuckled, “perhaps—only perhaps—the spark will return. His memories might resurface.”

Zilla reached for it, breathless. “And you’re just… giving it to me?”

“Oh, my sweet girl,” Ventress laughed, pulling the box back. “Of course not. You have to earn it.”

“Anything. Name it.”

Ventress placed the box back on the shelf, out of reach. “Ah, the things they say when they are desperate. I have a job for you. If you succeed, the saber is yours. If you fail… we are done.”

“What do I have to do?”

Ventress pointed out the window toward a greasy, bustling diner across the street. “See that diner? You will be working there by noon. Mention that you have the ‘favor of the Mayor,’ and give them this.”

She handed Zilla a folded piece of parchment. Zilla frowned, glancing at the strange script. “Is this some kind of contract?”

“Go now,” Ventress said, ushering her toward the door with a chilling smile. “And don’t mess it up. Anakin’s soul is waiting.”

Skal jeg fortsette historien og skrive hva som skjer når Zilla kommer til dineren?

Ventress began to clap. Slow. Rhythmic. Mocking.

“And yet, you seem to have turned out quite well despite it,” Ventress purred.

Zilla forced herself to breathe, looking toward the ceiling to hide her tears. “Maybe. But I want Anakin back. I want my sister. Please… just give them their memories. Let them remember who they are.”

Ventress clicked her tongue. “It’s not that simple, dearie. They aren’t who they were. They are Lars and Ashla now. And besides,” she lied smoothly, “I have no magic left in this town. My hands are tied.”

“Then I’m wasting my time!” Zilla snapped, turning on her heel to leave.

“Wait.” Ventress’s laughter stopped her cold. “I might have something that could help. After all, you’re like a sister to me. I care for you, in my way.”

The Mayor reached for a heavy box on a high shelf and flipped the lid. Zilla’s eyes widened, her heart skipping a beat. Lying in the velvet lining was Anakin’s lightsaber.

“Where did you get that?” Zilla whispered.

“If ‘Lars’ touches this,” Ventress chuckled, “perhaps—only perhaps—the spark will return. His memories might resurface.”

Zilla reached for it, breathless. “And you’re just… giving it to me?”

“Oh, my sweet girl,” Ventress laughed, pulling the box back. “Of course not. You have to earn it.”

“Anything. Name it.”

Ventress placed the box back on the shelf, out of reach. “Ah, the things they say when they are desperate. I have a job for you. If you succeed, the saber is yours. If you fail… we are done.”

“What do I have to do?”

Ventress pointed out the window toward a greasy, bustling diner across the street. “See that diner? You will be working there by noon. Mention that you have the ‘favor of the Mayor,’ and give them this.”

She handed Zilla a folded piece of parchment. Zilla frowned, glancing at the strange script. “Is this some kind of contract?”

“Go now,” Ventress said, ushering her toward the door with a chilling smile. “