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. “