When Anakin stepped into the flickering light, his presence didn’t bring comfort—it brought a suffocating pressure that made the very oxygen feel thin. He didn’t just want her there; he wanted to own her.

“So, you’ve come to hurt me now, haven’t you?” she spat, her voice trembling despite the venom. “If you think pain will make me crawl back… you’re wrong. I’ll die first!”

Anakin stopped. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t get angry. Instead, he tilted his head with a porcelain-smooth, terrifyingly calm concern. His eyes, normally bright, were now two hollow pits of predatory obsession.

“Ahsoka…” he whispered, the sound vibrating in her marrow. “You must have hit your head harder than I thought. The delirium is making you say such… ugly things.” He took a slow, measured step toward her, his shadow stretching out like a shroud. “I am your protector. Your only anchor. I would never harm you—I am only keeping you safe from yourself.”

“Master… I’m done running,” Ahsoka said, her spine hitting the freezing wall. “I have to live. My own life. And it doesn’t include you. Not anymore”.

Anakin’s face didn’t just darken; it contorted into a mask of manic grief. “Is it because you’re scared? You weren’t always this broken, Snips. You were brave”. He leaned down, his face inches from hers, his breath smelling of ozone and something sweet and rotting. “Someone poisoned you. Someone crawled into that beautiful head of yours and turned you against the only person who truly loves you.”

His voice dropped to a low, jagged growl. “Tell me who broke my plaything. I’ll find them. I’ll peel the screams from their throat until there is nothing left but the silence I provide.”

Ahsoka let out a sharp, hysterical laugh. “Master… no. Look in a mirror. I’m just surprised you’re too insane to see it.”

“Tell me,” Anakin commanded. The Force in the room surged, a heavy, oily weight that made the floor groan and the lights hum with a dying whine.

“It. Was. You!”

The silence that followed was a physical blow. Anakin recoiled as if she had dumped acid on his skin. The “Hero with No Fear” facade shattered, replaced by a flickering, twitching desperation. “What? No… Ahsoka, I only ever saved you…”

“The truth hurts, doesn’t it?” she hissed, fueled by the pure adrenaline of terror.

“Ahsoka… please…” Anakin’s voice broke into a pathetic, high-pitched whine. He looked small, a monster pretending to be a victim. “How can I fix this? How can I make you love me again?”

Ahsoka raised her left arm. The heavy metallic shackle clinked—a rhythmic, mocking sound of her slavery. “Actions, Anakin. Unlock this. I am not your pet.”

Anakin stared at the cuff. For a heartbeat, his eyes flashed a sickly, molten gold. Then, with a sharp, effortless snap of his fingers, the lock hissed. The metal hit the floor with a thud that sounded like a coffin lid closing.

“Done,” he whimpered.

Ahsoka stood, her legs like water. She stumbled toward the exit, her voice a ghost of its former self. “And whatever dark shadow you’ve cast over Zilla… whatever you did to her mind… undo it. Now.”

Anakin didn’t hesitate. He snapped his fingers again, his expression blank and hollow. “It is done. She is… quiet now. Obedient. Just like she should be.”

Ahsoka didn’t wait. she bolted for the door, but before she could pass, his hand shot out. It wasn’t a hit—it was a clamp of cold iron, the grip of a man who would rather snap her bones than let her go.

“Ahsoka… please! I’m begging you!” His eyes were blown wide, leaking tears of pure madness. “If you’re really leaving… tell me. Is there anything—anything—I can do to make you stay? I’ll build you a palace. I’ll burn the Jedi Temple to the ground if you just stay in this room with me”.

Ahsoka stood perfectly still. She looked at his hand—the hand that had killed thousands “for her.” She looked into the abyss of his eyes and saw that there was no “Anakin” left, only a starving ghost.

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice a chilling, hollow melody. “There is one thing.”

Anakin leaned in, his face lit with a ghastly, frantic hope.

“Keep your heart pure,” she breathed, the lie tasting like poison. “Do good. Choose the light. If you do that… I will always be around.”

She wrenched her arm from his grip. He let her go, mesmerized by her words like a man under a spell. She turned and sprinted down the corridor, her footsteps fading into the dark, clinical belly of the facility.

Anakin stood alone in the center of the med-bay, staring at the empty doorway with a terrifying, wide-eyed grin.

“Spoken like a true angel,” he croaked, his voice thick with a twisted, religious reverence.

Then, he turned and walked in the opposite direction, disappearing into the shadows, his soft, jagged laughter echoing through the vents.