Star Wars: Eyes of God Chapter 1 - A Galaxy Far Far Away

(AN: This is a pretty old one I dug up had to edit it a bit since it’s pretty trash, but I did promise you guys would get my passion projects. Anyway this is basically just a guy in Star Wars with the Rinnegan.)

Kyle walked down the empty suburban road, his backpack slung over one shoulder and his brow furrowed in frustration. He let out a long, exasperated sigh as he kicked a stray pebble down the pavement. The reason for his annoyance was simple—he was being forced to redo his exams. All because he'd helped two classmates cheat. It wasn't even anything sinister. He'd just known all the right answers, and when they'd panicked, he'd switched papers with them. Easy enough. Unfortunately, he hadn't been quite so subtle the second time, and his teacher had caught him in the act. The result? A week of detention and two more hours of mind-numbing, repetitive exams. Fantastic.

Kyle groaned, shaking his head. "So much for trying to help people," he muttered under his breath. He glanced up at the road ahead and sighed again. "I can't believe I've got two more years of this crap. If I don't get out of this boring hellhole soon, I'm going to lose my mind."

Kyle Marek, sixteen years old, lived in the kind of small suburban town where nothing ever happened. It was quiet, uneventful, and entirely too predictable for his liking. He was smart—smarter than most of the kids in his school, and honestly, smarter than a few of the teachers, too. But intelligence didn't make life any less dull. He lived in a foster home, with no family to speak of and nothing to keep him there. School was just another routine he despised, a collection of boring classes and people he could barely tolerate.

Kyle cursed under his breath as his thoughts returned to his teachers, particularly the one who'd caught him cheating. "Nosy bastards," he muttered. But then, a sly grin spread across his face. "Well, not all of them." His mind wandered to Miss Kim, the young, attractive Asian teacher who was just a little too attentive. He didn't mind her hovering—she wasn't bad to look at. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head. "Shame she's not my age."

He kicked the pebble again, watching it skitter down the road as he approached the library. He paused outside, considering. Maybe they had some new manga he hadn't read yet. It was worth a shot—at least it'd kill some time. But before he could decide, the sound of screeching tires caught his attention.

Kyle turned his head toward the commotion. A car had spun out of control, slamming into a row of parked vehicles. The metallic crunch of the collisions echoed through the air as people screamed and scattered. Kyle's instincts kicked in, and he bolted down the sidewalk. "Shit!" he yelled, glancing back to see smoke and chaos spreading behind him.

He rounded the corner of the library, finding a staircase that led down to a service entrance. Before he could descend, an explosion ripped through the air. The force of it slammed into him like a freight train, throwing him off his feet and sending him tumbling down the stairs. He hit the bottom hard, his vision swimming as pain radiated through his body.

For a moment, everything went black. Then, his eyes blinked open, and he froze.

The staircase was gone. The library was gone. Everything was gone.

He was lying at the foot of a massive, ornate staircase made of polished stone, the walls around him soaring into the sky. Tall pillars stretched upward, framing a grand hall filled with an otherworldly glow. The air hummed with an energy he couldn't describe, and strange figures moved in the distance—robed beings carrying glowing weapons.

Kyle pushed himself up with a groan, his body aching from the fall. His head spun as he looked around, trying to make sense of where he was. "What the hell..."

Before he could finish the thought, footsteps echoed above him. He tilted his head back to see three figures descending the staircase. At the center was a bald man with dark skin and an imposing presence. His robes were deep brown and tan, and a saber hung from his belt. On either side of him were temple guards, their faces hidden behind gold and white helmets, holding long, glowing pikes.

The man stopped in front of Kyle, his gaze sharp and unyielding. "Padawan Kyle Marek," he said in a commanding voice. "You have been caught in an illicit love affair, breaking the Jedi Code you swore to uphold. This is your third offense, and as such, I am forced to cast you out of the Jedi Order."

Kyle stared at him, wide-eyed, his mind scrambling to make sense of the words. "What—wait, what the hell are you talking about?"

The man's expression didn't falter. "You had such potential," he said, his tone heavy with disappointment. "May the Force be with you. Now leave." With that, he turned on his heel and began to ascend the stairs.

Kyle sat frozen, his heart pounding. His mouth opened, but no words came out. What the fuck was going on? Before he could process anything, a searing pain shot through his skull. He clutched his head, groaning as memories—thousands of them—flooded his mind.

Scenes of training, battles, and people he didn't recognize but somehow knew. A life he hadn't lived. Memories that didn't belong to him but now felt like they did. When the pain finally subsided, Kyle slumped against the staircase, breathing heavily.

"What the... what just happened?" he muttered, his hands trembling. He looked up at the staircase, where the robed figures were disappearing into the temple. "This has to be a dream. It has to be." But deep down, he knew it wasn't. Whatever had happened, this was real.

Kyle groaned, pushing himself up from the stairs, his whole body aching from the fall. Each movement sent a dull throb of pain through him, but the confusion in his head was even worse. He didn't know where he was or what was happening, and the memories flooding his mind weren't making things any easier. He turned away from the temple, his legs shaky as he started walking, trying to clear his head.

The memories weren't his, at least not entirely. They felt like pieces of someone else's life crammed into his brain, but they were too vivid, too real. He tried to sort through them, looking for some kind of explanation. There were a few similarities to his real life—his name was still Kyle Marek, he was still sixteen years old, and he was the same kind of person. But everything else... it didn't make sense. He was a Jedi Padawan. A Jedi.

That thought alone made him stop in his tracks. He stared at the ground for a moment, blinking, as if that would somehow help him process it. Jedi Order? That meant—I'm in Star Wars, he realized, the thought hitting him like a brick. He ran a hand through his hair, his mind racing. The man who'd just kicked him out of the Order was Mace Windu. Mace Windu. The memories were clear now. Windu had been his Jedi Master, the one who trained him. And the reason he'd been cast out wasn't just any minor offense—it was because he'd been seeing Ahsoka Tano in secret.

"What the fuck is going on?" Kyle muttered under his breath, his voice low but sharp. His legs moved on autopilot as he tried to make sense of it all, his thoughts tumbling over each other in chaos.

He barely noticed when he reached the end of the platform, and that was when he saw the temple guards. They stood there, waiting for him, their gold-and-white masks giving nothing away. Before Kyle could react, a loud mechanical sound echoed through the air. He turned his head to see a transport shuttle descending, the engines roaring as it came to a smooth landing right in front of him. The guards didn't say much—one of them simply motioned toward the shuttle.

"Get on," the guard said, his tone flat and cold.

Kyle hesitated. He wanted to argue, wanted to refuse, but the guards didn't look like the kind of people who would take no for an answer. And with everything going on in his head, he didn't have the energy to fight. He sighed, muttering curses under his breath, and climbed aboard. The doors slid shut with a hiss, and the shuttle lifted off, the cityscape of Coruscant spreading out beneath them.

He sat down, staring blankly at the floor as the memories kept pouring in. The life of this other Kyle Marek was flashing before his eyes, and it was almost too much to handle. He was incredibly talented, that much was clear. A gifted Force user, with a natural skill in lightsaber combat that had earned him respect even as a Padawan. But what truly set him apart was his ability to use Shatterpoint, the rare skill that let him see the weak points in anything—objects, people, even the flow of the Force itself. It was why Mace Windu had chosen him as a Padawan in the first place.

But talent wasn't enough to keep him out of trouble. Kyle got bored easily, and boredom always led him to break the rules. He hated the strict, structured life of the Jedi Order, hated being told what he could and couldn't do. He would sneak out of the temple whenever he got the chance, heading down to the lower city to explore. He loved it—the bright lights, the noise, the feeling of being free. He'd joyride temple vehicles, drink in the clubs, and party until someone caught him and dragged him back.

Despite his rebellious streak, he had passions. His memories were filled with moments of him tinkering with machines or studying biology, two subjects that fascinated him. But the temple wasn't the place for those kinds of pursuits. The Jedi weren't interested in engineering or anatomy, and Kyle's curiosity often left him frustrated.

The first time he'd gotten into serious trouble was because of Hanna Ding, a fellow Padawan. She was Arkanian, and by any standard, she was stunning. Her snow-white hair framed her face perfectly, her glowing white eyes were mesmerizing, and her body looked like it had been sculpted to perfection. Kyle could vividly remember sneaking into her room late at night, where she would be waiting for him on her bed, her pale skin almost luminous in the moonlight. Those nights had been incredible, even if her personality wasn't. Like most Arkanians, she had a princess-like arrogance that could be unbearable at times. But that hadn't stopped him.

His second strike had come later, when he'd tried to access the restricted section of the Jedi Archives. The holocrons had fascinated him, and he couldn't resist trying to learn more, even though it was strictly forbidden. He'd been caught, of course, and the council had been less than impressed.

And then there was Ahsoka Tano. His memories of her were sharper, more vivid, filled with emotions that still felt raw. She was so different from Hanna—strong, confident, and fiercely independent, but most of all kind and humble. Kyle had fallen for her almost instantly, and the feeling had been mutual. Their relationship hadn't gone as far as the one he'd had with Hanna, but it was deeper, more meaningful. He could still remember the way she'd smile at him, the way she'd tease him about his strange eyes.

"You've got really strange eyes," she had said once, her voice filled with curiosity.

Kyle frowned at the memory. Strange eyes? He turned to the window, catching his reflection in the glass. What he saw made him freeze. His irises weren't normal—they were purple, with strange swirling patterns that seemed to move and shift as he stared.

"This can't be..." he whispered, leaning closer. His heart started pounding as he recognized what he was looking at. It wasn't just unusual. It was impossible.

He was staring at the Rinnegan.

Kyle stared at his reflection in the window, his purple eyes with swirling irises staring back at him. His mind struggled to process what he was seeing. The Rinnegan. That wasn't just some strange mutation or alien trait—it was from Naruto, an entirely different fictional universe. This didn't make any sense.

"How the hell do I have these?" he muttered, leaning closer to the glass. The swirling patterns moved slightly as he tilted his head, and he could feel something, like a faint hum of energy coming from them. His heart raced as he tried to piece it all together.

"This doesn't add up," he said, sitting back against the shuttle wall. "Star Wars... the Jedi... and now the Rinnegan?" He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. He thought back to everything he knew about the Rinnegan. It wasn't just some cosmetic feature—it was a legendary power, capable of manipulating gravity, summoning creatures, creating planetary-scale destruction, and more. It was the pinnacle of abilities in Naruto. But here? He had no idea what it meant, or if it would even work. Right now, they were just a pair of fancy purple eyes.

Kyle tried to think about how this was even possible. Did this have something to do with the explosion that sent him here? Did the two universes somehow mix together? Had some higher power decided to drop him into the Star Wars universe and give him overpowered anime eyes for fun? None of it made sense.

He sighed, rubbing his temples. "This is useless," he muttered to himself. "Trying to figure out how I got here or why I have these eyes isn't going to change anything." He glanced out the shuttle window at the sprawling cityscape of Coruscant. "I'm stuck in Star Wars. That's all that matters right now."

Still, a grin slowly crept across his face. The Rinnegan. If he could figure out how to use it, life here might be a lot easier. He ran through the list of abilities in his head, growing more excited with each one. The gravitational powers of the Deva Path, the summoning abilities of the Animal Path, the potential to read and manipulate minds with the Human Path. If those powers were even half as strong as they were in Naruto, he could carve out a place for himself in this galaxy.

"I just need to figure out how to use them," Kyle said, his grin widening. For now, though, they were just sitting there, functioning like any other pair of eyes. He tried to focus, squinting slightly, willing them to do something, but nothing happened. No sudden flashes of power, no hidden knowledge awakening in his mind. They were just there. But he wasn't discouraged. If these abilities worked the way they were supposed to, he'd figure it out. He just needed time.

...

The shuttle slowed as it descended toward the landing platform, its engines whining as they adjusted for the final approach. Kyle shifted in his seat, watching through the window as the city came into view. The sprawling urban landscape was mesmerizing. Towers of metal and glass stretched high into the sky, their tops glowing with neon lights. Speeders zipped by in different lanes. Below, walkways and platforms teemed with people of every imaginable species, all going about their lives. The shuttle landed with a soft thud, and the hum of the engines died down. The pilot, a middle-aged man with a scruffy beard and a weathered uniform, unbuckled himself and stepped out of the cockpit. He walked down the aisle toward Kyle, holding a small pack in his hands. Without a word, he dropped it into Kyle's lap.

"Everything you'll need is in there," the pilot said gruffly, crossing his arms. "Rations, a canteen, and 1,000 credits. Should get you started."

Kyle blinked in surprise, gripping the pack. He opened it briefly to check, finding a small bundle of neatly packed food, a metal canteen, and a credit chip resting in a side pocket. It felt strangely official, like a care package for exiles. He nodded at the pilot, slinging the pack over his shoulder.

"Thanks," Kyle said, his voice neutral but polite. He must've been told by the temple to give it to him. Well at least they didn't just leave him without anything.

The pilot grunted, turning back toward the cockpit without another word. The doors hissed open, and Kyle stepped out onto the platform. The air was warm, filled with the distant hum of engines and the chatter of the crowds below.

He looked out at the city sprawling in front of him. Thousands of beings moved along the pathways and platforms, their sheer variety making Kyle pause. Humans, Twi'leks, Rodians, Wookiees, and others he didn't even recognize bustled about. For a moment, he felt the lingering sadness that had come from the memories of the other Kyle, the part of him that had been devastated by being cast out of the Jedi Order. But that feeling faded almost as quickly as it came. The new Kyle, the merge of the two lives, didn't feel sadness or regret. He felt something else entirely—excitement. This galaxy wasn't just an endless routine or a prison of rules anymore. It was a land of endless possibilities.

The sheer scale of it all made his pulse quicken. He wasn't confined to a temple, stuck in monotonous lessons or adhering to outdated codes. He was free, completely free, in a galaxy filled with adventure, danger, and opportunity.

There was no way he could ever be bored here.

___________________________

Kyle sat on the edge of a walkway, his legs dangling over the side as he stared down at the street far below. Speeders zipped by on the levels in between, their engines humming steadily, while below, another street bustled with life. People of all species moved in clusters, entering and exiting buildings, the city alive with activity at every level.

He sighed and rested his chin on his palm. "I'm bored," he muttered to himself. The sheer vastness of Coruscant, the limitless possibilities it offered, was starting to overwhelm him. He could do anything now, but that was the problem. With so many options, he didn't know where to start.

Kyle let his mind wander, trying to organize his thoughts. He went over what he knew about Star Wars, mentally cataloging the key events and players. He knew the Clone Wars was a sham, orchestrated by none other than Palpatine, the soon-to-be Emperor. Palpatine was playing both sides, controlling the Republic as Supreme Chancellor while manipulating the Separatists behind the scenes.

He knew it was currently 21 BBY, which meant there were roughly two and a half years until the end of the war and the infamous Order 66—the extermination of the Jedi. That was when everything would fall apart, and the Empire would rise.

Could he warn the Jedi? Maybe, but he doubted they'd take him seriously. He was an outcast now, thrown out of the Order. Even if they did listen, it wasn't like they could stop it. Palpatine was too deeply entrenched, and the Republic's systems were already crumbling.

Could he fight Palpatine himself? Kyle let out a dry laugh. "Yeah, right," he said quietly. Even if he could get close, he'd be dead in seconds. Palpatine wasn't just some old man—he was one of the most powerful Sith Lords in history. Maybe, if Kyle mastered the Rinnegan and trained his Force abilities to their peak, he'd stand a chance. But right now, he'd get cut down without so much as a fight.

The idea of doing nothing and letting canon play out crossed his mind, but it didn't sit well with him. Hiding from the Empire wasn't exactly appealing, especially since that meant living in fear of Darth Vader. The thought of being hunted by Vader sent a chill down his spine.

Kyle stroked his chin, thinking it over. "I'll figure it out later," he said to himself. No point in making grand plans when all he had to his name was a thousand credits and no idea where to even start. He'd need credits—lots of them—if he wanted to have any real options. A ship would be a good start. It would give him freedom, mobility, and a way to get off this planet. But first, he'd need to refine his Force abilities and figure out how to unlock the power of the Rinnegan.

He also needed a new lightsaber. The temple had confiscated his when they kicked him out, and he felt naked without it. Crafting a new one would take time, resources, and the right materials. None of which he had yet.

Kyle pushed himself to his feet and stretched. He glanced down at the street below, calculating the distance. It had to be at least a 60-foot drop, maybe more. But with the Force, it wasn't an issue. He stepped off the edge, plummeting toward the ground with the wind rushing past him. At the last second, he channeled the Force, landing lightly on his feet as though he'd only dropped a few inches.

He stood there for a moment, grinning to himself. "The Force is amazing," he said, shaking his head. It was exhilarating, the way it made him feel untouchable. He couldn't imagine ever going back to the limitations of a normal life.

Dusting himself off, Kyle headed further down, descending into the lower levels of Coruscant. Here, the clean walkways and orderly buildings gave way to something rougher. The streets were darker, the air heavier, and the people walking around seemed far less friendly. This was where credits could be earned quickly, even if it meant bending or outright breaking the law. He didn't care. Credits were credits, and he wasn't above getting his hands dirty to get what he needed.

Kyle looked down at the platforms and pathways stretching below him, layer after layer of Coruscant's massive cityscape. Paying for transport wasn't an option. Not because he couldn't afford it—he had those 1,000 credits burning a hole in his pocket—but because he wasn't about to waste his precious credits on something he could do himself. Climbing was free, and it gave him a chance to stretch his muscles and test his limits with the Force.

He grabbed the edge of the walkway he stood on and swung himself down onto a narrow maintenance beam below. His boots clanged against the metal as he steadied himself. The air was already thicker down here, carrying a faint smell of fuel and machinery. He looked around, finding the next drop, and moved on.

It didn't take long for the light to start fading. The higher levels of Coruscant always had the sun shining through, bouncing off the glass and metal buildings, but down here, it was a different story. The lower he climbed, the less light made it through, until the world around him was cast in perpetual dusk, illuminated only by flickering neon signs and the occasional burst of light from passing speeders.

Kyle smirked as he looked around. "This is more like it," he muttered. The upper levels were too polished, too orderly. Down here, things were rough. Gritty. The kind of place where a guy could have some fun if he played his cards right—and wasn't stupid enough to get stabbed or shot in the process.

By the time he reached the bottom of his climb, the air was thick with the scent of grease, sweat, and something he couldn't quite place but didn't want to think too hard about. He brushed his hands on his pants, ignoring the grime they'd picked up on the way down. This was the undercity, and it lived up to its reputation. People bustled around him, their faces hard, their eyes always watching. It was crowded, noisy, and filthy, and Kyle found himself grinning.

He weaved through the crowd, heading toward a familiar neon sign flashing: Za Za Ka. The club was one of the biggest on this level and a favorite of the Kyle from this world. And after seeing the memories of why? He couldn't blame the guy. The place had everything—cheap drinks, a pounding bassline, and Twi'lek dancers that could make a Jedi question their vow of celibacy. As he got closer, he caught sight of the line forming outside the club's entrance. It was packed with people—humans, Rodians, a couple of Weequays, and even a Trandoshan who looked like he was tweaking slightly. A pair of Gamorrean bouncers stood at the doors, their axes slung over their shoulders as they grunted at each other in low tones.

Kyle stopped a short distance away, looking up at the bright neon and listening to the muffled thump of the music spilling out into the street. "Ah, Za Za Ka," he said under his breath. "Home sweet home."

(This fic is pretty trashy and low quality wish fulfilment, that's why I haven't really posted it. While I'm not the kind of guy to make things too easy for the MC he is gonna get strong. Especially with the Rinnegan.)