In the dead of night, Zilla jolted awake. The shadows of Anakin’s office pressed in on her, cold and suffocating. A glance at the window offered no comfort; the sky was a bruised purple, either midnight or a very early, omen-filled morning.

She scrambled toward the door, but the handle wouldn’t budge. It was locked. As she sank to the floor in confusion, a cold weight on her wrist caught her eye. A silver bracelet—etched with runes that hummed with a dampening frequency clamped onto her skin. Her fairy magic felt like a distant, muffled echo.

“Some tower you’re locked in, dearie.”

The voice slithered out of the darkness. Familiar. Poisonous. Asajj Ventress stepped into the sliver of moonlight.

“Just like Rapunzel,” the witch continued, a sharp, jagged smile cutting across her face.

“I know that story,” Zilla snapped, pushing herself up. “But what does it have to do with me? Why am I locked in here?”

“Let’s just say I’m here to help you.” Ventress flicked a wand from her sleeve. “The children of your master made quite a mess of my palace yesterday. I believe you understand the sting of being overlooked.”

“He isn’t my master,” Zilla spat, her voice trembling with buried resentment. “All he cares about is Ahsoka.”

“Is that so?” Ventress’s eyes glowed with a predatory light.

“Yes. From where I stand, it’s the only truth there is.”

“Well, that settles it. I need your cooperation for what comes next, but I must know—are you willing to stand with me?”

Zilla hesitated, her gaze flickering to the locked door. “Will it get me what I want?”

“You will never live in anyone’s shadow again,” Ventress promised.

“Then it sounds fair to me.”

“Good.” Ventress glided closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Your family will be safe. In fact, they won’t even remember who they are.”

Zilla’s brow furrowed. “How does that help me?”

Ventress grabbed Zilla’s arm, leading her toward the center of the room. There, a black cauldron sat, its contents bubbling with a viscous, oily potion. “I have gathered the ingredients for a curse—one that will sweep away this entire forest and everyone in it.”

“To where?”

“To a place without magic. A place where we shall rule.” Ventress’s grip tightened. “But I am missing one final, vital ingredient. Will you help me finish it?”

“What do you need?”

Ventress reached down and snapped the silver bracelet off Zilla’s wrist. As the fairy magic rushed back into Zilla’s veins like a tidal wave of heat, the witch leaned in close, her breath cold against Zilla’s ear.

“Just a fairy’s heart.”

Zilla’s eyes widened. “What—?”

Before she could scream, Ventress’s hand moved like a lightning strike. Her fingers plunged into Zilla’s chest as if the flesh were mere water. With a sickening, wet sound and a delighted laugh, the Queen ripped the heart out.

Zilla collapsed, clutching her empty chest, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She watched in horror as her own heart—glowing with a rhythmic, ethereal light—pulsed in Ventress’s hand.

“I thought… we had an understanding!” Zilla moaned.

“We did,” Ventress muttered, mesmerized by the glow. “But no magic is as potent as a fairy’s, and you are the only one left.”

“I don’t understand…”

“You don’t need to.” Ventress held the heart over the steaming cauldron.

“STOP!”

The door exploded inward. Ahsoka Tano charged into the room, her lightsabers ignited, the white blades casting harsh light against the stone walls. “Stay away from my sister!”

Ventress didn’t flinch. She simply tilted the heart over the brew. “You’re too late, dearie. If I drop this, she dies.”

“Put it back!” Ahsoka screamed, her voice cracking. “Now!”

“Oops,” Ventress whispered. She let go.

“NO!”

Time seemed to fracture. Ahsoka lunged, her fingers inches away from the falling heart, but the potion roared as the organ hit the liquid. A geyser of black smoke erupted, and the heart was gone. In a fit of grief-stricken rage, Ahsoka kicked the cauldron over, sending the cursed brew splashing across the floor in a steaming mess.

She collapsed beside Zilla, taking her sister’s cold hand. “Zilla… talk to me… please…”

But Zilla was gone. Her eyes were vacant, her spirit extinguished.

Ventress stood amidst the ruins of her potion, her eyes narrowed with cold vengeance. “My curse is still coming,” she hissed. “And there is nothing you can do to stop it. Ta-ta.”

With a swirl of her cloak, she vanished into a cloud of acrid purple fog.

Anakin Skywalker burst into the room, followed closely by the fairy Abigail. He skidded to a halt, taking in the scene—the overturned cauldron, the smoke, and Ahsoka cradling Zilla’s lifeless body.

“What happened?” Anakin asked, his voice hushed with dread. Ahsoka didn’t answer. She couldn’t.

Abigail knelt by them, her wings drooping in sorrow. “I am so sorry…”

Ahsoka looked up, her eyes burning with a desperate, terrifying hope. “There has to be something. I won’t live in a world without her.”

Abigail paced, her hands trembling. “I don’t know if it would work… it’s forbidden… it would require another heart.”

“Take mine,” Ahsoka blurted out.

“No!” Anakin stepped forward. “Ahsoka, you’ll die!”

“Maybe I won’t.” She looked at Abigail with fierce determination. “Take my heart. Split it in two. Give us each a half.”

“I’ve never tried such a thing,” Abigail whispered, horrified. “If it fails, you both…”

Anakin put a heavy hand on Ahsoka’s shoulder. “Snips, you have to let her go.”

“Never! Do it, Abigail. Now!”

The light fairy sighed and closed her eyes. “Close your eyes, Ahsoka.”

As the room fell silent, Abigail reached into Ahsoka’s chest. She pulled out the vibrant, pulsing heart of the Jedi. Anakin watched, his hand on his lightsaber hilt, his face a mask of grim warning. “If you fail… you will answer to me.”

Abigail nodded gravely. With a surge of her own magic, she carefully tore the heart into two equal halves. She sang a low, ancient melody, mending the jagged edges of each piece with golden light. Then, she placed one half back into Ahsoka and the other into the hollow space in Zilla’s chest.

She waited. Seconds stretched into an eternity.

“Nothing is happening!” Anakin roared, drawing his blade. “You killed them both!”

“Give it time!” Abigail begged, cowering as the blue light of his saber illuminated the room. “Please!”

A sharp gasp broke the tension.

Anakin dropped to his knees as Ahsoka’s eyes flew open. He pulled her into a fierce embrace. “I thought I lost you.”

Beside them, Zilla stirred. She blinked, her hand flying to her chest. “What’s going on?” Memory flooded back—the betrayal, the witch. “The curse! Oh no… it’s all my fault!”

“Oh, my dear,” a mocking voice echoed. Ventress reappeared behind the wreckage of the cauldron, her laughter cold and sharp. “Do you really think so? My curse is coming. I must thank you, Zilla—I couldn’t have done it without your help.”

Ahsoka stood up, her strength returning, her eyes narrowed at the witch. “You’re going to regret this. We will find you. We will take you down.”

Ventress only smiled, a chilling, final expression. “I believe you would… if only you could remember who you are. Which you won’t.”

They all turned toward the window. Creeping over the horizon, a thick, unnatural white fog was rolling in, swallowing the trees, the stars, and the world they knew.