The Council chamber had been filled with tension before.
But this was different.
This time, it wasn't just a debate.
It was a reckoning.
You stood at the center of the room. Blood still fresh on your robes from Dathomir. The air pulsed with disapproval from the Masters surrounding you, especially Mace Windu, who now stood—arms crossed, judgment burning in his eyes.
"You've gone too far, Vorran," Mace said. "Dathomirian magic. Combat without lightsabers. Earth philosophies. You're not training the Chosen One… you're corrupting him."
You said nothing at first. Your eyes were on Yoda, seated in his high chair—still, calm, ancient.
Your former master.
"Master Yoda," you began, "you brought me from Earth when I was still a boy. You said the Force guided you to me because I saw the universe through a lens no one else in the Order did. I still do."
Yoda said nothing, but your voice didn't falter.
"The Force lives in all things. That's what you taught me. But somewhere along the way… the Jedi forgot what that meant."
The Challenge
Mace stepped forward. "You think you know better than the entire Jedi Order?"
You turned to face him. Calm. Focused.
"I think it's time we stopped talking about whose method is better… and proved it."
The Council leaned in.
"I challenge you," you said, "to a match. Not to disrespect you—but to defend my path. You can use your lightsaber. Your legendary Vaapad style. I'll use only my body."
Whispers stirred around the room. Even Ki-Adi-Mundi and Saesee Tiin exchanged looks of unease.
"If your way is stronger," you continued, "then strike me down and end the debate. But if I show you that the Force can live within the body—not just through a blade—then you will listen."
Mace's jaw clenched.
"Very well."
The Arena
The match moved to the open training arena. The balconies above were soon lined with Jedi Masters and Padawans, all murmuring as the two of you took your places.
Mace ignited his purple blade. The hum was deep and controlled, a weapon of discipline and destruction.
You removed your robe, barefoot, breath steady. No saber. No weapon.
"Still time to reconsider," Mace said.
"This is me, not reconsidering."
The First Clash
Mace struck first.
His saber came down like a thunderbolt—fast, calculated, unrelenting. Vaapad was movement, rage converted into precision. You dodged, narrowly avoiding a blow to your shoulder, then backflipped away.
Another slash grazed your forearm.
Blood dripped to the arena floor.
You exhaled slowly.
"You fight like your saber is your soul," you said. "I fight like I am the saber."
He lunged again.
You side-stepped, landed a quick open-palm strike to his ribs, but he spun and caught you with a shallow slice across the side.
You stumbled.
He stood over you, ready to finish it.
"This ends now," he said.
"No," you whispered. "This begins now."
The Transformation
You rose slowly.
Palms pressed together. Breath deep and rhythmic.
You closed your eyes.
And then—ignition.
Your body began to glow. Not in a blinding flare—but in a deep, radiant purple. Your eyes snapped open, shining like twin kyber crystals. Your skin pulsed with light—Force-infused chi flowing through every muscle, every nerve, every breath.
Mace hesitated.
"What… are you doing?"
"Channeling," you said, stepping forward, the ground quaking beneath your bare feet.
"On Earth, we call it Chi. It's the energy that flows through all things. It's life. It's power. It's balance. Jedi teach the Force is external. I was taught to let it live inside me."
Mace narrowed his eyes, confused.
"The Force isn't chi."
"No," you corrected. "Chi is the Force—just seen through different eyes."
The Shift
Mace struck again—but this time, your movements were different.
Not defensive.
Not aggressive.
Flowing.
You weaved through his strikes like smoke around fire.
Your hand connected with his wrist—his saber flared and was knocked aside. He recovered, only to take a kick charged with Force-chi straight to his shoulder, sending him sprawling.
Gasps rang out.
"What you fear…" you said, "isn't the Dark Side. It's not having control."
Mace rose again, slower this time.
You could see the doubt creeping into his stance.
You struck again, this time a sweeping palm to the chest. The impact carried the weight of a falling star, but you held it just enough to send him tumbling—not broken, just humbled.
The Lesson
You stood over him, glowing violet like a living hypercrystal.
"I don't teach rebellion. I teach awareness."
You extended a hand—not to fight, but to lift him.
He didn't take it.
But he didn't swing again either.
Above, the Council watched in stunned silence.
"You're afraid of me," you said quietly. "Because I've become what the Jedi forgot how to be."
You looked to Yoda.
"A being of the Force, not just a wielder of it."
Yoda met your eyes, and for the first time… there was no disappointment. Only contemplation.
The Walk Away
As the violet glow faded from your skin and your eyes dimmed back to blue, you turned.
Anakin stood just outside the arena, his face stunned, his hands trembling—not with fear, but with awe.
"Teach me that," he said.
You smiled.
"I already am."
The two of you walked off together, leaving behind the Council… and a silence that would echo for days.