“Ahsoka, stop!” Zilla shrieked, her voice cracking with a terrifying, manic edge. “Anakin isn’t the evil you need to run from! Stop turning your back on your family!”

Ahsoka came to a sharp halt. She turned slowly, her face a mask of pale exhaustion. She looked like a trapped bird, shivering in the cold dampness of the woods.

“You know what, Zilla?” Ahsoka said, her voice dripping with a brittle, desperate arrogance. “Just because you’re my sister doesn’t mean you can stop me.”

Zilla let out a harrowing, high-pitched giggle that morphed into a snarl. She looked completely unhinged, her hair matted with dirt and her teeth bared. “Then what can? Anakin is looking out for you. He loves us! He will always look out for us! I made a solemn promise to snap your destiny in two, and I’m going to fulfill it. I’ll break every bone in your body to keep you safe!”

“I won’t allow it!” Ahsoka snapped.

She fumbled for her lightsaber. When she ignited it, the blade didn’t hum—it groaned. The plasma was sickly and dim, flickering with a rusty orange hue from years of neglect. It cast a ghostly, trembling light over her terrified eyes.

Zilla didn’t hesitate. She snapped her twin blades to life; they hissed like vipers in the dark. The two sisters stood frozen, locked in a stare-down of pure, jagged tension.

“Please, sister…” Zilla whimpered, though her eyes remained wide and predatory. “I don’t want to hurt you… I don’t want this to end in a fight… it would break my heart.” She clutched her chest, her fingers clawing at her own skin.

“Then lay your weapons aside,” Ahsoka pleaded, her voice trembling. “Let me go.”

“Never!” Zilla howled, the sound echoing like a death knell.

Suddenly, the air curdled. A thick, suffocating plume of blue smoke erupted between them, smelling of ozone and ancient rot. From the mist, a tall, imposing shadow solidified.

Anakin Skywalker stood there, his face a grim mask of absolute authority. He didn’t look like a hero; he looked like a jailer. He stretched his arms out to either side, his gloved hands twitching as if pulling invisible strings.

“I won’t let you two tear this family apart,” Anakin said. His voice was a low, abyssal growl that vibrated in their very marrow. He looked at them with a terrifying, possessive intensity. “I do this because I love you. I do this to keep you mine.”

Before they could even gasp, he unleashed a wave of dark, crushing energy—a Force-spell that tasted like iron and sleep.

“I love you both so much,” Anakin whispered to himself, a twisted smile touching his lips as he watched their eyes roll back. “And because I love you, you will never leave my sight again.”

Both sisters collapsed instantly, their bodies hitting the dirt like broken dolls. Anakin stood over them, a dark god reclaiming his property.

Miles away, in a tower draped in weeping shadows, Rumple leaned over a glowing crystal orb. His face was a map of twitching nerves and manic glee. He wrung his hands together, his long nails clicking like beetles.

“Yes… oh, yes!” he cackled, a hysterical, shivering sound that set the stones of the room vibrating. He stroked the glass as if he were petting a pet. “The jailer thinks he’s a savior, and the madwoman thinks she’s a saint!”

He let out a sharp, barking laugh and danced a little jig in the shadows.

“I have them right where I want them,” he whispered, his eyes gleaming with a terrifying, psychological hunger. “The game is only just beginning.”