A thin mist of morning light brushed against the Temple spires of Coruscant, casting long shadows across the durasteel corridors. The chill of twilight still lingered in the halls, but the sun had begun to rise.
And in the dormitory chamber, something had changed.
Master Tallis stood in silence, watching the boy who sat before her.
Eli Kaen—once again reset, once again alive—looked smaller than he ever had. But not physically. His shoulders, though slouched, seemed heavier. As though he bore not just his own weight, but the burden of entire lifetimes.
The air in the room was still. Tavi and Niyala had been ushered out with the other younglings. A soft murmur had passed between them—concerned glances, quiet whispers—but Master Vathen Rin had taken them with him. The disturbance Eli had caused would not go ignored.
But for now, it was just the two of them.
Master Tallis knelt in front of Eli, lowering herself to eye level. Her robes swayed gently as she moved, her presence calm and grounding.
"Eli," she said, voice a gentle chord in the quiet. "Come with me."
Eli blinked, his eyes still red from earlier. His lips trembled slightly, but he nodded.
The walk through the Temple was quiet. Eli followed her through side halls and up narrow staircases, away from the usual bustle of the younglings' wing. They passed no one. It felt intentional, as though Tallis had carved this time and space out just for him.
Eventually, they reached a rounded archway at the end of a corridor, simple and unadorned. Beyond it was a chamber unlike any other Eli had seen in the Temple. A high domed ceiling stretched above, soft light pouring in through latticed windows. Cushions and mats lined the floor in concentric circles. No technology. No distractions. Only stillness.
"This," Tallis said, stepping inside, "is where I come to remember. To listen. To be."
Eli hesitated in the doorway.
Tallis turned and offered him a small smile. "No one's judging you here. Sit."
He obeyed.
The cushion gave beneath him, and he settled into a cross-legged posture, mirroring Tallis who sat opposite. She adjusted her robes with practiced ease and folded her hands in her lap.
Silence stretched between them.
Then, her voice.
"What you felt earlier... it wasn't wrong."
Eli's head snapped up. He'd expected a lecture, a reprimand.
"The anger, the fear, the desperation," she continued, eyes closed, tone even. "These are feelings. Natural ones. Especially for someone your age. But the Jedi Code doesn't demand we feel nothing. It teaches us how to understand those feelings. How to choose our path in spite of them."
Eli looked down at his hands. They had stopped trembling, but the memory of that rage still lingered beneath his skin.
"I've tried," he said quietly. "I've tried to stay calm. I've tried to be a Jedi. But it never works. Everything I do just... fails."
Tallis opened her eyes.
"There is no try."
Eli blinked. "What?"
She smiled. "An old saying. One that came from a Jedi far wiser than I. There is no try."
Eli frowned. "That doesn't make any sense. I'm supposed to try, aren't I? Isn't that the point?"
Tallis took a breath, then nodded toward the center of the chamber.
"The Force is not a ladder to climb. Nor a prize to win. It is not a thing you chase. It is present, always. Around us. Within us. When you say, 'I will try,' you create a future in your mind—a future you're already attached to. And in doing so, you step away from the present."
She shifted slightly. "'Try' is a word of anticipation. Of hesitation. It means you are already preparing for failure or success, instead of simply doing."
Eli's brow furrowed. He had never thought of it that way.
"But... if I don't try, how do I change anything?"
Tallis leaned forward.
"By being present. By doing what is needed in this moment. Not because you want a specific outcome—but because it is the path before you."
She gestured toward him.
"Right now, you are angry. You grieve. You fear failing again. And in that fear, your actions are shaped by a desperation for control. For certainty. But the Force doesn't live in certainty. It flows."
Eli swallowed.
"I keep thinking about what comes next. About what I need to stop. How to escape this... this loop."
"And in doing so," Tallis said, "you lose this moment. You disconnect from the Force. The Force does not anticipate. It responds. It moves through living beings. It is not future-bound."
She paused, allowing the stillness to settle again.
"When you act without clinging to outcomes, you move in harmony with the Force. And that's when the impossible becomes possible."
Eli looked up at her, uncertain.
"But how do I know what's the right action in the moment?"
Tallis closed her eyes.
"You listen."
She inhaled deeply. Her presence became even calmer, her energy steady.
"You quiet the storm within. You let the feelings come—but you don't become them. You observe. Accept. And then you act, not from fear or desire, but from clarity."
She gestured toward him.
"Now. Sit with me. Just breathe."
Eli adjusted his posture. He closed his eyes.
Tallis's voice continued, low and even.
"Feel the breath. Feel the room. Do not push thoughts away. Let them pass, like clouds across a sky."
At first, Eli struggled.
Thoughts swirled. Faces. Deaths. Loops. Pain.
But Tallis didn't correct him. She simply breathed, a metronome of calm beside him. Her presence alone reminded him he was safe here. That there was no expectation. No test.
Time passed.
The noise within began to slow. His breathing steadied. He felt the weight in his limbs—not heavy, just... grounded. A presence beneath the chaos.
"The Force surrounds you, Eli," Tallis whispered. "It's not somewhere distant. It's not waiting in the future. It's here. Right now. Can you feel it?"
Eli wasn't sure.
But something had softened inside him.
Not the rage. Not the grief.
Something beneath it. A stillness. A knowing.
He opened his eyes.
Tallis met his gaze and smiled.
"You are not failing, Eli. You are learning. And every moment is a new chance to return to the path."
He nodded slowly.
And for the first time since the loop began—since his life fractured—he didn't feel lost.
The chamber was quiet once more.
And Eli Kaen began to listen.