Karn opened his eyes.
Black sclera surrounded his glowing amber irises. Inky markings streamed down his cheeks like eternal tears, the blackened lids trailing seamlessly into the transformation etched by the dark side. He slowly rose to his feet, exhaling a plume of hot vapor that steamed in the volcanic air of the Well of the Dark Side. His body felt denser, more defined. Power surged within him like never before.
He could feel it.
His midichlorian count had risen—from 21,500 to an incredible 26,000. A gift... no, a reward. His permanent connection to the dark side had deepened to the point of transcendence.
Around him, pieces of stone and debris floated silently—remnants of his subconscious command of the Force while meditating. Now fully awakened, Karn leapt upward, bounding from one levitating rock to the next, scaling the chasm as the Well began to tremble.
At the edge of the crater, he turned and looked down.
"Thank you," he murmured to the void, a farewell to the Son who had gifted him this power. Then, as if acknowledging his part in this closing chapter, the Well collapsed entirely, sealing itself away. The roar echoed across the ethereal landscape of Mortis.
Karn didn't flinch.
He turned and walked in the direction he had seen in his vision. Hours passed—if time even had meaning here—as he trekked through dreamlike terrain. Finally, he arrived.
The bodies of the Son and the Father lay near each other in a solemn embrace of death. Pristine. Untouched by time or decay.
He had known this would be the place. What he had felt back in the material galaxy was no illusion. A dark side tremor had reached across the veil of existence to him alone—him, the last remaining being in the galaxy with pure Sith blood.
He knelt and took his time.
With care and reverence, he buried the Father and the Son near the Daughter's grave, forming a silent triad that once maintained balance in the Force.
As he stepped back and observed the three mounds, a tremor rolled across Mortis. A signal.
This plane of existence was unraveling. Or transforming.
Karn turned without fear. Behind him, a gateway shimmered into being.
He bowed to the graves.
"Rest now. I will make sure the dark side never fades, but only grows stronger."
He stepped through the gateway and reemerged into the familiar quiet of his chamber on Serenno. He checked his datapad: only a few hours had passed. Time truly moved differently in Mortis. He also saw a message from Sidious. With a glance, he memorised the contents and placed the pad back down.
Clenching his fist, Karn felt his power respond. Red force lightning crackled at his fingertips—wild, potent, and searing. It wasn't the blue lightning of lesser Sith, nor the yellow-tinted lightning of Darth Momin. This was stronger. Rarer. Unchained.
He closed his fist, and the lightning faded.
A dry chuckle escaped his lips.
He suddenly paused. A ripple in the Force drew his attention—a familiar presence.
Ventress.
She had returned. And nearby... Count Dooku and Savage Opress. But their presences were in conflict—locked in battle.
How interesting.
Willing victims to test his new strength.
Without hesitation, Karn walked to his door and stepped out. He wore only his pants and his mask, his upper body exposed, the black tribal markings glowing faintly in the dim light. His saber hung at his hip, ready but untouched.
As he walked, a thin fog coiled around his feet, crawling forward with each step and casting an unnatural cold through the halls. His posture was composed, with his hands behind his back, and every movement deliberate.
----
Savage Opress stormed into Count Dooku's observation chamber, the corpse of King Katuunko slung over his shoulder like discarded meat. Dooku's expression soured—not at the dead monarch, but at the failure. With a sneer, the Count extended his hand, and tendrils of searing Force lightning erupted from his fingertips, crashing into Savage's body. The Nightbrother howled in agony, writhing as the raw power coursed through him. Dooku did not relent.
But then, the unthinkable happened.
A blur of movement—a ghost from Dooku's past—interrupted the punishment. Asajj Ventress stepped from the shadows, her twin red sabers igniting with a hiss. Dooku's eyes widened as she commanded Opress to rise, to fight. To obey her.
And he did.
The chamber erupted into chaos. Blades clashed, lightning snapped, and the sound of raw fury filled the air as Opress and Ventress fought in tandem. Dooku was skilled—very skilled—but he was also aging, and two Dathomirian warriors driven by rage and betrayal were more than even he had prepared for. Disarmed, scorched, and retreating step by step, he summoned waves of lightning to keep the brutish Savage at bay.
Ventress screamed at Opress, berating his sluggish strikes and brutish style, her anger boiling over. Dooku's cruelty. Ventress's disdain. The weight of both pressed on the Nightbrother until, in a moment of pure defiance, he turned on them both.
The battle devolved into a savage, uncontrolled three-way storm of crimson blades and dark fury—until suddenly…
The room dropped ten degrees in an instant.
A cold, unnatural, and suffocating spread across the floor like black fog. The walls creaked. Lights dimmed. Every spark of chaos froze, as if the Force itself were holding its breath.
Then, with a violent crash, Opress was lifted from the ground and slammed into the durasteel wall by an unseen hand. He screamed, his massive body crushed under an invisible pressure, his armor groaning until it buckled, denting inwards.
Ventress and Dooku turned in unison.
He had arrived.
Karn stood at the entrance, one arm outstretched, pinning Opress to the wall with the Force, the other calmly behind his back. His torso was bare, the new black tribal markings and Sith tattoos glowing faintly like smoldering ink on crimson skin. His amber eyes, shrouded behind his mask, burned with unnatural intensity. The air around him shimmered, not with heat—but with power.
He didn't need to raise his voice. "Count," Karn said, tone calm and commanding, "head to the Citadel. Lord Sidious requires your presence immediately. I will join you once I've finished… cleaning up."
Dooku hesitated, his ego bristling—but something in Karn's voice struck the old Sith like a bell in his chest. Wordlessly, he extinguished his saber and walked past Karn, casting one last look at Opress—crushed, wheezing, helpless—and left without a word.
The chamber fell silent save for Opress's gasps and the low hum of crackling tension.
Karn turned his gaze slowly toward Ventress.
She flinched. Just a half-step. But it was enough.
The dread that radiated from him was no illusion. She could feel the change—he wasn't just stronger… he was something else now. The cold, the power, the darkness—it was alive in him. She shook off the fear, replacing it with rage.
"You're protecting Dooku?" she hissed, incredulous, sabers twitching in her hands.
Karn didn't even look at her when he replied. His fist clenched slightly.
Opress screamed again as his chestplate shattered, the broken pieces embedding into his skin.
Karn spoke evenly, his tone like coals sliding across stone. "He's still useful. Just as you… could be."
Ventress froze.
"That potential," Karn continued, finally meeting her eyes. "That fire. So wasted in revenge… but properly guided…" he trailed off, letting the silence finish the sentence.
Her breath caught for just a moment. Her eyes flicked to Opress—crushed, defeated—and back to Karn.
She snarled. "I'll show you wasted."
Both sabers ignited with a scream of plasma.
Karn chuckled. "The hard way, then."
He raised his hand. His lightsaber flew into his palm from his belt and ignited. A roar—deep, primal, and ancient—like a krayt dragon—echoed throughout the chamber. The blood-red blade crackled to life with a hunger all its own, casting his markings in a hellish glow.
Ventress tightened her grip. That blade… wasn't natural.
She screamed and charged.
Karn stepped forward, calm as ever, a fog rolling out around his feet as he advanced.
The clash began.