Will of the Force - 29

Ugh, this one fought me, I'm not entirely contenti with it, but at some point I've got to move on.

Anyways, I apologize for taking so long and I hope you guys enjoy it.

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Anakin opened his eyes to utter darkness, neither light nor sound passing through his makeshift meditation chamber. With a thought, the metal walls cracked, parted, and slowly flew apart, revealing the near-empty room.

The light hit him first, then the sounds, moving vehicles and working civilians, even a few animals giving life to the city. Uncrossing his legs, he let himself fall to the ground, then stepped away from the metal chamber and took in a breath. 

As a Force user of his power and skill, Anakin shouldn’t have needed an isolated meditation chamber but, in all honesty, meditation had never been his forte. He could count on one hand the number of times he’d willingly done it as a Jedi and, as a Sith, regaining balance had never been his goal.

In his state, he required assistance, a way to truly focus.

So, he blocked out the world for several hours a day, he’d close himself between walls of metal and focus inwards, trying to regain what little peace he had acquired after reaching this planet. It hadn’t been easy.

The Force bond helped, if he focused, he could feel his young… apprentice was safe and happy, having made a full recovery in the hands of the local law enforcement despite their incompetence.

After eliminating the Travelers, he’d considered immediately taking her back but, by then, he’d calmed down enough to feel the Force guiding him away from that decision. The youngling would be safe there, including from himself.

That, more than anything else, had stopped him.

Taking another step, he didn’t make any gestures but used the Force to close the walls of his meditation chamber, then lifted it out of the floor and moved the entire metal container to the side, letting it rest against a corner.

Glancing down, he slowly lifted a hand, staring with indifferent eyes at the flesh and blood limb he’d thought he’d never recover. Slowly, he curled his fingers into a fist, tightening his hold until it was almost shaking. 

Turning his gaze away, Anakin released a long breath and let the tension go, arms crossing behind his back. 

In front of him, the geological compressor released steam, lights powering down to announce his new synthetic crystal was ready. Staring at the device, he didn’t take out the crystal but continued to think.

Once upon a time, long before becoming Darth Vader, Anakin had believed he’d never hurt someone he loved. 

Then he twisted the Force to his will, demanded its obedience, wielding it against Padme and everything had gone wrong. Years later, he realized it hadn’t directly resulted in her and his children’s deaths, but he couldn’t entirely fool himself; he had no doubt it contributed, if not heavily, then at least in some way, to her passing. 

He knew better now.

Out of balance and submerged in the Dark Side as he had been, even if he didn’t physically strike at his new apprentice, he could have done a lot of damage to her future, influencing her towards a much darker path than anything he wished for her.

So, he’d retreated back to the house, closed himself in layers of metal, and done his best to regain balance, using the Force bond to not only check on his apprentice but lend her some of his strength while she recovered.

At the same time, he’d used the chance to finally guide the creation of a new synthetic crystal, something he had been delaying for some time now, using the unstable, scarlet synthetic crystal to power his lightsaber for reasons he wasn’t entirely certain about.

Perhaps he had not thought himself worthy of a well-crafted crystal, or perhaps he knew holding a complete lightsaber in his hands would bring him memories, echoes that still hurt to remember.

Regardless, he’d left himself open, letting his past, not his goals, color his decisions and fall right back into… bad habits. 

He regretted losing control against the PRT, he knew he’d hurt innocents during his rage, civilians who had nothing to do with the conflict and, while he didn’t regret the battle, he regretted that he fought like a Sith, not a Jedi or even just a Force user.

His goal had been to reach Dinah, not defeat or eliminate the PRT, he could have easily avoided most of the deaths he caused and achieved his goal a few seconds earlier.  

…He somewhat regretted attacking the Travelers, not because he regretted killing them, but because lending the youngling his strength through their Force bond had been far more important at the time.

He should have just crushed the bunker, crumpled the entire building like a discarded sheet of paper, and focused on what was truly important, they had not been worth his time.

Blinking, he put aside any thoughts of the slain humans and shifted his focus. With a tug, his lightsaber rose from his side until it floated exactly in front of his face, then it simply came undone, all 137 pieces separating to reveal the defective red crystal inside.

It shook, then cracked and finally fell apart, pieces raining inert to the floor. Anakin wouldn’t be using a red lightsaber again, even a synthetic one with none of the history a true Sith blade had.

Lifting a hand, he used the Force to open the lid on the geological compressor and pull out his newest synthetic crystal, perfectly formed and attuned. He’d let his meditation guide the crystal formation without controlling it so, in a way, the color was a surprise, but it was also a relief.

With a movement of his hand, the lightsaber snapped back into place, hilt pointing up before igniting, revealing a bright blue blade, the same color as his first crystal. To a Jedi, it was the blade of someone focused more on physical aspects than the exoteric, a defender.

“Guardian the title is, not warrior. Remember this, all Jedi should.” Anakin could almost see the writing in front of him, a footnote that could only belong to the grandmaster, written on the copy of the Jedi path he had received during his education.

A pity they’d all forgotten that lesson during the Clone Wars.

Deactivating the blade, Anakin let the lightsaber fall into the palm of his hand, then clasped the tool to his waist and left the room. He’d delayed things for long enough, it was time to see his guest.

Stepping out of the room, he glanced at the closed door to his left, the empty bedroom that briefly belonged to Dinah, then his gaze shifted away and he moved, walking down the stairs to the basement.

Marissa lay on a bed, wounds almost completely healed but, while Anakin had gotten better as he used Force healing, the acid burns on her body still left ugly scars on her skin and she was missing several fingers on both her hands and feet.

Initially, he had allowed her to awaken, but the young woman had been in tremendous pain and confusion, unable to accept the result of her own decisions, so he’d forced her mind back to sleep, giving her time to recover.

He would like to say he’d done it entirely out of empathy, but she had attacked Dinah twice, keeping her quiet was mostly to prevent her from drawing his attention. Even now, as he looked down at her, there was still a part of him that wanted to snap her neck.

In a way, she reminded him of his own situation so long ago. Abandoned, crippled, having gone too far, made one too many mistakes, he could even feel someone’s influence on her mind, a subtle touch meant to twist her… The only reason he hadn’t killed her was their differences.

Unlike him, she had turned back. Her crimes may not have been as terrible as his own, but the fact she had been able to turn away from her actions instead of doubling down earned her some respite.

Releasing the hold on her mind, Anakin spoke. “Awaken.”

Marissa snapped awake, her body jumping up in the bed while her heart started pounding, disheveled blonde hair falling like a curtain around her head as she hyperventilated, trying to regain a semblance of control.

“I-I’m alive… Oh God, I’m alive.”

Anakin didn’t say anything, focusing instead on what he could feel from the growth on her head or, more importantly, what he couldn’t feel. With Dinah, and later as he clashed with Vista, the connection seemed alive, aware and capable of exercising influence.

Marissa’s connection was muted, not entirely dead but perhaps dying. As if the mind had broken but the body continued to move independently.

A minute later, when she finally recovered enough, Marissa attempted to comb her hair away from her face and adjusted her position, but her lack of fingers made that nearly impossible and she turned away, swallowing hard. “Why didn’t you kill me?”

“I had killed enough. My temper is a failing I’m attempting to correct.”

Laying her head against the wall, she looked towards the ceiling, gave a bitter laugh and mumbled, “Fucking Krouse,” putting an arm over her eyes, she asked. “Did you kill all the others?”

“No,” Anakin said and decided to speak while he probed the connection while she was awake. “I did not pursue the one who manifested creatures. I also sensed from Trickster that you had another companion, but I did not recognize him.”

“... Oliver, he wouldn’t have even tried to fight and his power isn’t that useful.”

“Then he likely survived,” it was possible he’d killed the man while going through the underground bunker, but unlikely if he wasn’t a fighter. All of the mercenaries he faced were dressed for battle and aggressive.

“What do you want from me? I-I’ve had enough, I’m not working for another maniac, everyone’s gone anyway, I may as well die here if that’s the case.”

“Do not fool yourself. You are weak. I have no need for your powers,” Anakin shook his head, pulling away from the connection, having noticed little change from when she was being kept asleep.

Unlike with the youngling or Vista, it did not seem to be influencing her mind at the moment.

“Then why? Why save me?”

“I’m not certain,” Anakin confessed. “I thought it a whim at the time, but now I’m certain the Force has guided my decision.”

Marissa gave him an incredulous look, one that he’d seen in the faces of many a skeptic when talking about the Force, but perhaps not as foolish here, where none had heard of it before his arrival.

“You are a criminal, one that attacked something I value, as such, I will not release you, but I will give you a choice,” he said, getting up from his chair. “You may choose to be handled to law enforcement, the ones in this city have proven themselves incompetent, but reaching another urban area is not difficult and their punishment, when it’s applied, is acceptable.

“Or you may choose to remain here. For convenience’s sake, I will remedy your disability and will not require the use of your power, but I will study it. You do not use the Force and I have long wondered about the source of your abilities.”  

Marissa snorted, then laughed, a dry sound without any happiness. “God, we really fucked up, didn’t we? How many people did we kill? And Noelle, she just… I never thought she’d… how many more people would we kill if she had left the shelter or had time to make more clones? Should have just died at Madison, or at least stayed in the quarantine zone like everyone else.”

Lowering her arm, Marissa finally looked at him, slow tears running down her face. “We were always afraid of this, you know? We read about it on the internet, how her bombs could stay dormant for years before just going crazy, but we were just making compromises… slowly becoming worse and Luke thought it meant that was normal in our situation, not some manipulation from Ziz.”

“He was correct,” Anakin told her. “The creature’s influence in your mind is obvious, as it was in Trickster, but it merely imparts a need to stay together as a team. The actions you took are your own.”

Marissa just stared at him uncomprehendingly, almost as if she couldn’t understand, or couldn’t believe his words. Then she started crying harder, tears streaming down her face as she pulled her legs to her chest and hugged her knees.

For a second, Anakin was reminded of his own daughter. Did she feel like this when he froze her layabout lover in carbonite? They were almost the same age, Leia being only 2 years older.

“As I understand, the creature is a skilled precognitive mastermind,” he said, voice slightly softer. “Do not downplay your own choices, but such beings are insidious, they do not need more than a few suggestions to ruin you. Simply know that it no longer influences you.”

Anakin, more than anyone, could understand how such small touches could build up, destroying someone from the inside given enough time. Sidious had been a master of the art, capable of using a single word to start entire wars.

Often, when the Emperor had felt like disciplining him, the Sith would taunt him with how he was turned. Sometimes, he’d claim to have been the one to send dreams of his mother’s death and arrange for her capture by Tusken raiders, laughing when he learned of how Anakin had reacted.

Other times, he’d say it had been the Force sending him warnings, but Sidious had clouded his vision and delayed him enough that he couldn’t save her. Yet other times, he’d claim to have done nothing, simply playing on Anakin’s rage and fear after the fact.

To this day, Anakin didn’t know what was the truth, all of the claims were believable and equally likely given Sidious personality.

“Can you sense her power?” She asked with disbelief, then it turned into anger. “No, you’re lying, she’s an Endbringer, the PRT can barely fight her off.”

“You overestimate the creature’s power,” Anakin said, releasing the control he kept on his power and letting her sense some of his aura, still in turmoil despite days of meditation. “Now, choose, I have better things to do than answer your questions.”

“If-If you can stop her, I don’t care what kind of experiments you want to do, I’ll stay with you.”

“Very well. Now go wash yourself, it’s been 4 days since I forced you to sleep and we’ll be leaving in an hour.” Turning his back, Anakin climbed the stairs then sat down in front of a window, staring out into the city.

While he waited, Anakin felt the intruder, a nearly imperceptible wave of power that washed through his home, taking control of every insect inside the house and imbuing them with intent as it had done for the last three days.

He could sense her, crouching behind a house three blocks away and doing her best to remain hidden, attempting to investigate him while avoiding the attention from the PRT hidden in several houses in the neighborhood.

He ignored her, just as he ignored the PRT and every other faction that now knew his location. Without Dinah, he no longer cared to hide after all.

Despite her disability, Marissa didn’t ask for help taking a shower or putting on clothes, but she did take the entire hour to finish, only coming up the stairs when there were less than five minutes to her deadline, hair still wet.

Sparing a single glance towards a fly attempting to land on his shoulder, he led Marissa into his vehicle and drove toward ABB territory. Anakin had never cared too much about the gang, but he’d need a new workshop, and perhaps it was time that changed.

Jun Watanabe received him, the young Japanese bowed at his waist, then helped Marisa out of the transport, doing his best to avoid staring at her hands when he saw them.

Inside, Tae-Soo Park, the Korean currently in charge of the ABB’s organization greeted him. He wore a black suit, shoulder-length black hair, and had quite a few rings on his fingers, having just put out a cigarette. “Susanoo-gun, may I help you with anything?”

Anakin stared at the man, using the Force to probe him, but there was no fear, only confidence. “I want a report on the ABB’s current situation, I also require a new workshop.”

“I can have a complete report sent to you in two hours,” Tae-Soo said. “As for the workshop, we managed to recover some of the Tinkertech and I put Inugane in charge of building a new one as soon as we learned about the PRT attack. It is ready for your use.”

Anakin focused on the man, surprised at having someone competent in a gang. “How many are left in the ABB?”

“As you ordered, we’ve stopped recruitment and didn’t prevent anyone from leaving,” Tae-Soo said, pulling another cigarette and briefly waiting to see if Anakin would complain, when he didn’t, the Korean man ignited it. “Still, we’ve managed to retain most of our people, 258 members, most of which are the street soldiers.”

It appears that despite their differences, the ABB had grown far too used to having a powerful figure as its leader. For his purpose, it would serve.

He had tried to distance himself, to stand aside as the world moved on, but he’d failed from the very beginning, unable to ignore the youngling when she appeared in front of him. Still, he had insisted, holding back and, when that hadn’t worked, slaying Lung as a show of force to intimidate those who’d meddle.

Unfortunately, that had only brought him more attention, this planet’s culture of “capes” making parahumans overconfident, too accustomed to battles with low stakes, where neither their lives nor even their identities were in danger. Even had he left the city, Anakin was certain other parahumans would test him wherever he went.

Very well, if they wouldn’t leave him alone and law enforcement was both incompetent and corrupt, perhaps it was time he took matters into his own hands.

“You may begin recruitment again,” Anakin told Tae-Soo. “Avoid any confrontation with law enforcement, but do not restrict recruitment to the ‘Asian’ population, then start expanding the ABB territory.”

Tae-Soo Park smiled, inhaling deeply from his cigarette. “Very well, and if the remaining Empire or Merchants try to interfere?”

“Inform me of their presence immediately, but do not hold back, most parahumans are not bulletproof. Now, bring me to the workshop.”

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https://docs.google.com/document/d/1s-H1T9yDlKL0cHiLkHPep-6GwF1m3IeV8_7RSkwzA7I/edit?usp=sharing