Will of The Force (Star Wars / Worm)

 

“Yes,” Anakin simply said, his voice carrying over the roar of the fire. 

With a quick hand movement, he thrust the lightsaber through Lung’s head, finishing off the gang leader without even leaning down and, with the other hand, he stopped two projectiles, the non-lethal munitions aimed straight at his hand in an attempt to stop him.

Taking a moment to consider both projectiles floating in the air under his power, Anakin didn’t know if he felt insulted or impressed. “Even now you continue to use non-lethal weapons. One would think the last display would change that stance.” Lowering his hand, he let the projectiles fall to the ground. 

Miss Militia didn’t answer. Anakin could see her heart beating hard in her chest, the hero getting ready for any retaliation while also struggling with her own adrenaline. She didn’t want to fight him, but she was struggling to stop herself from making the first attack. 

At her side, Velocity had briefly used his power to gain some distance when Anakin had executed Lung, but he fell out of his Breaker state soon after, glancing from Miss Militia to Anakin with jerky, anxious movements while paying attention to his own comms. 

For a second, Anakin just stared at the two heroes, attempting to sense their intentions. Despite his actions, both still felt hesitant to engage him, their minds filled with shock, apprehension, fear, and confusion, but also tinged with a sliver of relief.

He supposed he could understand them. They had orders to arrest any parahumans alive and, while they were doing their best to follow such orders, that didn’t mean they approved of said commands.

“I can confirm, Lung is dead,” Velocity said, his voice low as he spoke into his comms. “Unknown, I don’t see any signs of him. Console, please advise?”

With slow movements, Anakin straightened his posture, deactivating his blade and lifting his cloak before gently guiding the handle back to his waist with the Force. Both heroes tensed with his movement, but they seemed to relax slightly now that he didn’t have a weapon in hand.

Looking between Velocity and Miss Militia, Anakin pondered his next move, consciously trying to resist the pull of the Dark Side.. “Have you already dealt with Bakuda?” he asked.

His intention had been to fully eliminate the ABB’s parahuman support today, but he didn’t need to do everything himself; if they had at least managed to deal with the mad bomber by themselves it would show a modicum of competency.

Miss Militia didn’t answer but, from the shift in her feelings, the slight amount of both worry and confidence, he knew they were already dealing with the Tinker and that the woman was sure it would be a success.

“Polaris, you don’t need to be an enemy. If the girl is really in danger we can help. This will complicate things, but it’s still not too late,” Miss Militia broke the silence, tilting her weapon slightly dowards, convinced he’d not start attacking, but ready if he did. “You haven’t hurt any innocents yet and you’ve only stolen from criminals. After what he did today, no one will condemn you for killing Lung. Just surrender and the Protectorate will help you.”

 

Anakin simply looked from one side to the other, watching as the fires around him lost some of their power, but still burned through the entire block of buildings. At least he didn’t sense any lives in immediate danger.

“Your ineffective games do not interest me.” Anakin shook his head. He had no interest in joining their organization. “I have played them far too many times before.”

“Anakin, don’t do this,” the woman appealed, her hand squeezing her weapon and she struggled with herself, her mind conflicted between wanting to help and to fight him. “We both know the government isn’t perfect, but making it your enemy isn’t the answer.”

At her side, Velocity seemed content to let Miss Militia talk, his eyes glued to Anakin’s unmoving body even as his own foot tapped against the ground, muscles ready to start moving at the first signal of action.

“The fact your organization would still accept me after today does you no favors,” he shook his head. “Regardless, the Protectorate had the chance to improve this city. It chose to remain neutral, feeble; to maintain the situation instead of working to improve it.” 

“Then join us, help us set things right. The Protectorate isn’t perfect, but nothing really is; it still has things worth fighting for,” Miss Militia tried again. “Think about Dinah. After this, the Protectorate won’t be able to just leave you alone.”

Anakin actually thought about the option again. Not because Miss Militia was being convincing, but because he could actually feel both heroes were genuine, both truly believed they were doing good.

Then again, the Jedi too had believed they were doing good… and this city reminded him far too much of the Republic’s later reign. The old Order had held on to their false peace, working to keep the Republic in order for so long without realizing it had become only a shell of its former self.

If Anakin was being honest, the Republic hadn’t died with Sidious, it had died long before he was ever born. The Jedi had simply kept its corpse intact for a century or so, too preoccupied with protecting a name to notice that what they were truly fighting for was already dead.

The same thing was happening with this city. The PRT and Protectorate were so preoccupied with stopping a gang war, with keeping parahuman fights from escalating, that they were letting the situation slowly deteriorate. They were letting the city slowly rot from the inside instead of risking it dying in one single confrontation, stretching out the suffering in a vain attempt to diminish it. 

“Incorrect; after this, the Protectorate will leave me alone, the same way it has done with Lung and the ‘Empire’,” he finally said, turning his back to the woman. She truly did remind him far too much of the Jedi. “Your willingness to fight for what you believe is commendable. Pray you do not come to regret it.”

Stepping away from the heroes, Anakin believed there was a more than even chance they’d be ordered to engage him, probably in a superior’s mistaken belief that he was weakened after the battle; time to dissuade them of that.

Lifting a hand towards the still burning street, dense clouds of black smoke lifting up in the air, Anakin closed his eyes, trusting the Force to warn him of danger while he concentrated. 

Slowly, he spread his reach with the Force through the entire street, feeling every brick, every wall. What he was about to do required concentration, control. It was not something he could do while worrying about getting attacked.

Opening his hand, he released a Force push, the technique almost like a pulse that pushed away all the air in the street, dispersing the smoke without causing any further damage to the buildings. The fires only gently flickered, barely affected by his power.

Twisting his hand palm up, he slowly closed his fist, using the Force to slowly smother the flames, cutting off their supply of oxygen until they completely died. The street was still hot and there was still the danger that the fires would revive from the embers, but he had just smothered almost every fire Lung had started. 

There were still a few flames on the nearby streets, but none were as hot or strong and Anakin already sensed the city would be able to deal with it.

In a fight, he could never have gathered the concentration for such a feat, and it had been a risk with two heroes close by. But it was a show, not only of power but control, skill. A statement that wouldn’t be forgotten.

Moreover, he had also just saved several city blocks from burning before the flames could be fully controlled, indicating that he wasn’t here just to destroy. Lowering his hand, he prepared to leave.

“Yeah, I think we can safely say he’s still in fighting shape,” Anakin heard Velocity snort in his comms, the hero’s voice dry and without any inflections.

Without his direct control, the wind started blowing again, reigniting a few small spots of fire, but nothing bigger than a few centimeters, the flames lazily flickering while black ash rose in the air.

With a ‘crack’ the front of a building finished collapsing, the darkened bricks falling on top of each other and spreading through the street, the structure too weakened to support their weight. 

Stepping on the half-melted street, Anakin briefly stopped, slightly turning back. “I have seen what happens when compromises are made, when one lets the decay spread slowly for fear of disrupting current circumstances.” Lifting a hand, he let some of the ashes fall on his palm, the black and gray remains falling through his gloved fingers before he squeezed them into a fist. “I can feel it: Your organization would ask me to remain calm, to not interfere further. That is something I cannot do.”

Turning away, his cape trailing behind him, Anakin continued walking, his feet almost stomping the street as he used the Force to keep the heat away from him, the air distorting around his body.

The heroes didn’t pursue; whoever had been watching the confrontation had decided to let him leave without further problems, unwilling to risk a second engagement after the level of power he had just shown.

Empowering his legs, Anakin Force Jumped all the way to the top of a structurally intact building, stepping out of the heroes’ line of sight once and for all. 

Lifting his head up, he took a deep breath, doing his best to calm his emotions. He had channeled the Dark Side far too much in the fight. Worse, it hadn’t been by choice but simply his inability to keep his anger in check. It seems he still hadn’t made as much progress as he had hoped.

This city reminded him far too much of his time as a Jedi, always working to keep things functioning even as they deteriorated around him, dealing with the symptoms without ever engaging with the real problem, in the vain hope the Senate would eventually do the right thing. It had always been infuriating.

He didn’t know if the leaders of this particular city were even aware of what was happening. 

Did the ones in charge actually believe they were doing their jobs or were they simply biding their time, maintaining the city as best as they could while waiting for the chance to strike without taking too many risks? Perhaps they simply wanted to keep the city from complete collapse for as long as possible, hoping someone else would deal with the problem.

As a Jedi, he had been a bandage, simply keeping wounds from bleeding out and hoping the Republic could heal by itself. But, as Darth Vader, he had been that someone else, the one who dealt with the problems once and for all — often in ways that left nobody happy, even himself.

It was unexpected: even now, as he wished with every piece of his being to forsake his time as Darth Vader and undo most of what he had done at his master’s bidding, he couldn’t lie to himself.

Between being a bandage, trusting others to solve the issue, or dealing with the problem himself, he knew which one he’d choose. It was strange to realize he didn’t regret destroying what the Republic had become. 

He regretted supporting Sidious, he regretted hunting down the Jedi, he regretted not finding the strength to overthrow his master earlier, but he did not regret destroying that disgraceful pit of corruption.

Closing his eyes, he could see everything happening again, his body stumbling as the Force almost overwhelmed him with visions of the past.

.

.

Padme holds his hand, she’s pregnant, pleading with him to turn back, too late. “Come away with me, help me raise our child. Leave everything else behind while we still can!”

In a fit of rage, he chokes her — perhaps causing her death, the very reason he turned to the Dark Side; to this day he does not know.

.

.

Obi-Wan stands above his body, the pain evident on his face, Anakin can only feel rage. “You were my brother, Anakin; I loved you!”

His body catches fire, the heat consuming his flesh but, even under the pain, all he feels is hate, the feeling overcoming everything else, allowing him to survive not by making him stronger, but by blinding him to the reality of his own actions and situation.

.

.

A youngling approaches him, the boy’s fear reverberating in the Force, but also his trust. It does not matter. “Master Skywalker, there are too many of them; what are we going to do?”

He ignites his lightsaber, his new master’s orders echoing in his mind, the Dark Side guiding his hand, giving more power than he had ever held, or at least he thinks it does.

.

.

He extends a hand to Padme, his soul taking an old, familiar shape, one he had lost decades ago. He had come to take her back, but his actions are not Anakin’s, his path paved only by slaughter. She doesn’t recognize him. “Why? I don’t know you. Anakin Skywalker is dead.”

His wife falls from the balcony, a bolt of crimson lightning smashes through her soul, leaving her forever beyond his grasp no matter how powerful he is in the Force. The facade of Anakin he wore falls away, revealing only Vader.

.

.

Anakin opens his eyes again, a single tear falling down his face under his mask. It seems the Force had seen fit to give him a warning, not entirely disagreeing with the path he wanted to take, but reminding him of the dangers it represented.

Every vision was a different lesson on the mistakes he had made and what he risked now, the price he paid for his hubris. A reminder of the reasons he had turned to the Dark Side and what it had once cost him.

Squeezing both hands into fists, he slowly opened them again, letting out a long, slow breath through his mouth, releasing his feelings into the Force and attempting to calm himself.

Out there in the Galaxy, both Luke and Leia were still alive. He had no wish to lose himself again, letting the Dark Side blind him so much he’d strike against them in rage like he did Obi-Wan and Padme.

Even here on this planet, Dinah was waiting for his return. If he fell to the Dark Side again, he knew he’d probably take the girl with him. She was already filled with anger and fear… it would be easy to twist her feelings into hate.

Truly, he could think of no worse fate than to condemn her into a life like his had been, wallowing in anger, hate, and self-loathing. He would not fail her like that.    

Suddenly, his head snapped to the side, his arm flashing up, hand making a grasping motion as he used Force Telekinesis to crush a small, floating device. The golden sphere exploded into a thousand small pieces, all of them held in the air by his power.

Drawing the device close, Anakin frowned. So Coil and the Travelers hadn’t just been content to prime Lung for the fight, they had also arranged for the confrontation to be filmed. 

Anakin doubted this had been the only recording device present, or that he had managed to prevent the information from getting to Coil’s hand by destroying it. So he could assume his Enemy now knew far more about his capabilities.

For a second, he wanted to dismiss Coil as unthreatening, but then he remembered his own confrontation against Tarkin. The Grand Moff hadn’t even been Force sensitive, but he had driven Anakin to the brink, reminding him of just how important planning and knowledge could be.

Anakin doubted a single villain in a small city would be a match for one of the greatest strategic minds of the Empire, but it wouldn’t do to underestimate the man too much.

Drawing the pieces closer, he looked at the golden casing and the delicate electronics floating freely in the air. He didn’t recognize all of the device’s functions at a glance, but he’d have time to study it later.

With a gesture, he put the pieces inside a pouch at his waist, right beside his lightsaber. He then spread his senses again, attempting to find any more recording devices or observers.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t find anything else, any watcher having long retreated or died during the fighting.

With one last look around, he started walking again and then broke into a run, using the Force to enhance his speed and leap between buildings, drawing a straight line towards Faultline’s location.

The mercenary wasn’t at her club; she had chosen to wait at an empty building at the Boat Graveyard: a location the mercenary had surveilled before, but that didn’t have any actual connection to her. It was far enough away from where the ABB was concentrating their efforts and as far away from Coil’s own territory as possible, increasing the difficulty of any attack he prepared. The location also had few residents, making for fewer victims in case there was a real fight.

Dinah had taken her droid with her, as well as some of the more mobile automatic defenses, mostly the laser turrets that could fit inside a van. Checking his own cell phone, he saw the droid was still active and in the same location, but its charge had almost run out.

Frowning, he increased his speed, his cape trailing behind him as he ran towards the location, his feet barely touching the ground as he moved.

Then he stopped, his eyes narrowing through the visor as he stared at the street where the empty house should have been — there was a giant wall there. 

Nearly five meters tall and topped with barbed wire, the construction cut through the buildings without actually causing damage to any of them, as if it had been simply built that way, Anakin’s senses telling him that the wall both was and wasn’t there.

Feeling the material with the Force, he knew that he could physically touch the wall, but it was actually weaker than it should be, as if it was simply a Force projection made solid, an echo of the bricks. Far more fragile than the real thing, but still tangible. 

Leaping on top, he used the Force to flatten the wire, looking down at the city block where they were supposed to be located. There was a lot of rubble, the small house having turned into an utter mess, at least three different buildings seeming to just… protrude from its location, each one made with a different material.

The entire place appeared as if it had been conjured by a madman's fever dream. A wooden tower sprouted from the middle of the house, at least four stories tall, reminding him of a primitive guardhouse.

A bronze statue, its head and one of its limbs broken, lay on top of the building. Some force had thrown it there, its half-melted metal features distorted and welded to the structure.

A brick wall seemed to have been hit with a car moving faster than Anakin thought they could achieve, but it only left a dent on the black metal structure hiding behind it. At the side, an actual fountain made from white marble spilled water down on the street, having extinguished several fires, though quite a few were still burning outside the reaches of the water.

Concentrating on the Force, Anakin felt Dinah’s mind inside the mixture of buildings. His eyes widened as he watched Newter actually poke his head through a nearby wall as if it wasn’t there, his face filled with tension.

“Huh, so that’s why they left early,” the lizard-like parahuman commented. His expression relaxed a little. “Come on, you’re gonna have to find your way inside. Labyrinth was on a good day, but I had to use my power to help her along so we could keep the girl safe and I doubt she’s gonna be able to just let you in. The kid said you can heal, too?”