Deep within the bowels of Coruscant—far below the glittering skyline and polished spires of the Republic's political machine—there lay a hidden sanctum untouched by light or time.
The chamber pulsed with dark energy. Ancient Sith glyphs glowed across obsidian walls, flickering with each beat of the Force. Crimson coils of lightning shimmered above an altar made of petrified bones, and the very air smelled of sulfur, blood, and old ambition.
Two shadows stood in the gloom.
Darth Plagueis, the Wise—tall, robed in black layered with maroon, his Muun features gaunt and skull-like. And beside him, cloaked and silent, Darth Sidious—still playing the part of the loyal apprentice, yet his eyes gleamed with hidden calculation.
Plagueis spoke first, voice dry and rasping with disdain.
"The Shadow Monarch... damn him. He's using my plan—exploiting the Jedi's weaknesses, destabilizing the balance. That massive gateway… did you see it above coruscant ? It opens to an unknown realm. Just like the prophecy said. Verdant realms. Impossible skies. A paradise made real."
His fingers twitched slightly, veins glowing faintly under his skin.
"And we're not the ones unlocking it."
Sidious smiled faintly, unbothered. "The Trade Federation invasion of Naboo is still underway. Chancellor Valorum will lose face, and I will rise in his place. That is what matters, Master. One step at a time."
But before either could speak further, they both froze.
A pulse in the Force struck them like a wave of glass shattering. Cold. Hollow. Wrong.
Plagueis staggered half a step back, clutching his temple as though struck by a migraine. His breath caught, and the runes on the wall dimmed slightly.
Sidious hissed and staggered to the side, gripping the stone altar to steady himself.
"...What was that?" Plagueis growled, his voice low with growing fury.
Neither of them could understand it—but both felt it. The absence. A great world had vanished, swallowed in silence.
Tython was no longer tethered to the Force in the same way. It wasn't destroyed. It was taken.
Plagueis turned, eyes burning. "Sidious… what mad plan have you unleashed without my approval?! Have you dared—dared—to succeed me already?!"
He raised his hand, lightning flaring, dancing wildly between his fingertips.
Sidious bowed quickly, words practiced, tone humble. "I would never dare, Master. You are the Sith Master. We will rule the galaxy together."
But inside…
When the time comes, Sidious thought coldly, I will be the Master. And no shadow… not even his… will stand in my way.
Plagueis turned slowly, his burning yellow eyes narrowing to slits as the air sizzled with the heat of Force lightning.
"I sense deception in you, Sidious," he hissed. The words were confirmation.
Sidious, still kneeling, felt a chill run down his spine despite years of feigned submission. He could feel Plagueis's will brushing against his own mind, searching, probing, testing for cracks.
He swallowed.Then, with the smoothness of a seasoned manipulator, Sidious lowered his head further and spoke with a quiet tone laced in conviction.
"…Yes, Master. I lied.My other plan… was to take Maul with me. To Malachor. To immerse him in its ancient dark power. To deepen his rage, strengthen his will… to make him a true weapon against the Jedi."
Then—amusement crept into Plagueis's expression, and the lightning in his hands fizzled out into harmless sparks. He folded his arms behind his back, chuckling low.
"Now that is a deception I can accept. Very well… Do it. Malachor's ashes will poison the weak—but Maul is no weakling. With that place… his bond to the dark side will be irreversible."
Sidious slowly rose, eyes gleaming with satisfaction hidden beneath obedience. "I will see to it, Master. Personally."
''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
Inside the ruined high-domed Jedi Council Chamber,
tension swirled like a silent current beneath the meditative calm. The once serene space now carried the scars of ruin from the First Sun: Xibalba—the Noble Phantasm that Tezcatlipoca had released. Although temporarily repaired, the roof still bore a gaping hole—ever since the events on Coruscant had begun to shake the very balance of the Force itself.
Mace Windu sat upright in his council seat, but his torso was wrapped tightly in white medicated bandages and supported by subtle repulsor healing braces along his ribs. His breathing was controlled, but there was weight behind every breath.
Depa Billaba stepped forward, eyes sharp with concern. "Master Windu… are you—?"
"I'm fine," Windu interrupted, though his voice was raspier than usual. "But this is the first time I've ever broken my ribs in combat." His brow furrowed. "That guy… Ashwatthama. He's fast. And brutal. One of the most savage Figther I've seen."
Across the chamber, Oppo Rancisis folded his arms, coiling his long tail beneath him as he spoke in his usual composed tone.
"My opponent… was the one they call Zeus. . He overpowered me in his own bet . however he strangely amused by my request , just as he was about to reveal the identity of the 'Shadow Monarch'... he was pulled away."
Depa blinked. "Pulled away? How?"
Oppo's fur twitched. "A strange… blue gateway. Formed in the sky of Coruscant. We had no record of it. Not even our seers sensed it coming."
That statement made the chamber quiet.
Master Yoda sat in silence, clutching something under the folds of his robe: an ancient Mayan staff, its surface pulsing faintly with residual shadow energy—left to him by the being known as Tezcatlipoca.
His brows were furrowed. Deep in thought.
Tell them, should I? Or not, hmmm…? Dangerous it is… but blind, they must not be. The Force… hollowed it has become, since Tython was taken. Since… he arrived.
Yoda's eyes lifted, scanning the chamber.
Shadow Monarch… dangerous, yes. But the name… Joerver Bideney… that is what he now answers to. Lies cloaked in titles, he does. And already, Tython belongs to them .
"Plo Koon…" Yoda said aloud, shifting the conversation, "his counterattack on Yinchorr… succeeded, did it?"
Yaddle, seated nearby with her arms folded into the wide sleeves of her robe, gave a gentle nod. "Yes. He pacified the Yinchorri. Swiftly and with precision. No deaths. A surgical strike."
Oppo Rancisis, ever the watchful one, gave a slight glance toward her. His voice held the faintest edge of disapproval. " Master Yaddle… is it wise to aid your enemy?" He leaned forward, his serpentine tail coiling beneath him. "The one in the purple dress. The frost-wielder. She fought with the Shadow Monarch. Against us. Against the Republic ."
Yaddle's face remained calm, but her voice was firm. "None of them tried to kill us, Master Oppo. Not one. They overwhelmed us . They imposed their strength… but they did not strike to kill. Not even Her ." She tilted her head slightly. "I must admit, the damage was… extensive. But our Order stands intact. No Jedi masters perished. Well—" she glanced at Windu, "—except for the condition of Master Windu's ribs."
Windu scoffed under his breath, arms crossed over the bandages. "Your pacifist nature is appreciated, Master Yaddle. But if you can't act, I will"
The air in the chamber grew thick.
Then Yoda's eyes closed again. "…Does everyone feel the same it is ?"
Yoda opened his eyes. "When you meditate. When you commune with the Force… do you feel it?". "The hollow. A migraine, like distant thunder in the mind. … since he arrived."
No one answered it . But the grim expressions in the chamber said it all.
'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
On the scorched surface of Malachor, where the very air reeked of ash and ruin, Darth Maul knelt near the shattered remains of long-dead Sith warriors. Their bones were blackened, their spirits lingering still. He had inhaled the dust—ritualistic, ancient—and visions had seized his mind. Flames. Betrayal. Light overwhelmed by shadow.
And Maul had endured. He had passed.
Palpatine—Darth Sidious—stood behind him, clapping slowly. The sound echoed through the crumbled canyons.
"Well done, my apprentice,. "Now… tell me. What have you learned?"
Maul rose, his yellow-red eyes burning, his breath still heavy from the ordeal.
"I have seen it. While rage is the fire that fuels us… it is not enough." His lips curled into a sneer. "The Jedi—they win by numbers. They're tangled in webs of allies, armies, planets. Connections. The Republic protects them."
Sidious smiled, pleased. "Yes. And therein lies their weakness. Patience," he hissed. "That is the true strength of the Sith . While the Jedi tie themselves to a rotting Republic, we need only wait. Let their trust in a corrupt system become their undoing."
"One day… the tide will turn. The odds will shift. And we—Maul—we will be the ones holding the blade."
Maul's voice was cut off, frozen mid-sentence.
"I understand, my Mas—"
The sky above Malachor twisted. A pressure, ancient and unbearable, dropped onto the land like the fist of a god. The already-ashen wind ceased. Even the dying embers within the Sith ruins went still.
From the darkened clouds above, he descended.
Jin-Woo, in his Ashborn form.
A towering figure bathed in darkness and flame. His jet-black armor radiated with heatless power. Purple, flame-like hair surged upward like a living inferno. His glowing eyes—deep, ancient, emotionless . Two great horns curled from his shadow-crowned head. A long smoky cloak dragged like a veil of death behind him.
And beneath him a shadow horse whose hooves never touched the ground, wreathed in war-born darkness.
He was five times the size of Darth Sidious. Larger than Maul could comprehend. He was a walking cataclysm.
Sidious took an involuntary step back, his throat dry, his eyes wide.
That form… That monstrous pressure… No, no… I saw him before—during the Coruscant breach. When the sky opened.
He was rising through the gateway… He and that man, Daybit. They hijacked my Yinchorri plan.. This… like the dark side incarnate itself .
Maul roared, blind with fury and delusion. "Today is the day the Sith return!"
With a snap-hiss, his double-bladed lightsaber ignited—crimson blades humming in defiance. He leapt into the air with all the speed and rage taught to him by centuries of Sith tradition—
—and was immediately swatted.
A demonic arm, clawed and monstrous, surged from a swirling pinkish-purple portal and smashed Maul out of the air like a child flicking a fly. He hit the obsidian stone floor of Malachor hard, his saber rolling from his grip.
Floating down from the same portal came Morgan , in her Monarch of Transfiguration form.
She was terrifying. Wreathed in ancient shadow and clad in a tattered blackish-purple hooded cloak. Her face was partially hidden beneath a pale, bone-like mask that only heightened her presence.
She didn't look at Maul again. Her eyes were already on Sidious.
"Shadow Monarch," she said calmly, her voice reverberating with layered echoes as she floated inches above the ground. "What shall we do with these pests?"
Sidious clenched his fists, his face pale, sweat forming behind his brow.
Jin-Woo, towering in his Ashborn form, didn't even look her way.
"My goal is what lies inside that Sith Shrine ," he said coldly, gesturing toward the ominous black pyramid behind them. "Do as you please, Yogumunt ."
Morgan's eyes lit up behind the mask. "I understand, Shadow Monarch."
Without hesitation, she turned to Sidious.
And knocked out Maul with a flick of her fingers—his unconscious body yanked into the air and slammed headfirst into a stone . He slumped down in a heap, twitching.
Now only Sidious remained standing.
Jin-Woo dismounted his steed, its obsidian hooves dissolving into smoke as he strode forward with slow, thunderous steps. Each footfall echoed through the grave-like silence of Malachor. His towering Ashborn form radiated dominance—unbothered, absolute. His eyes locked on the ancient Sith Temple ahead, ignoring the Sith behind him .
Sidious, however, wasn't a man who surrendered easily. Still shaken, but far too clever to show fear outright, he composed himself—quickly glancing at the figure beside him. Not Jin-Woo, but her.
Morgan. Hovering like a phantom, her Monarch form unnerved him.
And yet… something in her movements, the shape of her frame… That's no man, Sidious thought.