I never imagined I would see Anakin again. I have a complicated tangle of feelings regarding him, yet looking at him now, the murderous edge he carried in my final moments has vanished. Instead, he radiates the presence of the hero he once was—the "ideal Jedi" people used to whisper about. He possesses a dignified calm so absolute it makes me wonder if his betrayal was merely a fever dream.
He tells me that the past is an unchangeable reality, but until that final second, I truly considered him a friend. Beyond his actions toward me, I did not witness his other atrocities. He has offered a sincere apology, and I will leave it at that. For now, I choose to simply be grateful for the return of a friend.
...Though, it did cause a bit of a domestic stir. Mostly because I appeared to be having a very intense conversation with an "imaginary friend."
I managed to smooth things over by using my Amplification Quirk to temporarily boost my parents' midi-chlorian counts. It allowed them to see a faint, shimmering outline of Anakin, though it nearly caused a different kind of panic when they realized their daughter could apparently see ghosts. I'll have to address the "medium" aspect of my Quirk later.
And so, the reunion began. Even with my parents present—despite the language barrier between them and Anakin—we finally talked. I told him everything that had happened in the four and a half years since my rebirth, speaking in Galactic Basic and leaving out as little as possible.
"...I can hardly believe it," Anakin mused. "To be reborn as a new life on a different world... even for someone called a 'Child of the Force,' this is beyond my understanding."
"Even you don't know the cause?" I asked.
"I'm not omnipotent, Avtus. But if this truly happened, it explains why your Force signature remained identical to your old self. I felt a familiar presence from across the stars—even in a place where the Force is so thin—and decided to drop by. I didn't expect... this."
"You say 'drop by' as if it's a casual stroll," I countered. "I didn't realize the distance was something you could just ignore."
"I'm a Force Spirit now. A ghost, if you prefer. Distance means nothing when you're one with the Force. For context, Coruscant is roughly 87 million light-years from this planet."
"Eighty-seven million?! You can cross that much space just by thinking about it? What have you become?"
"I told you: a ghost. There's no other way to put it. Obi-Wan can do it, too. Even Master Yoda. Though in this era, most aren't interested in reaching out to the living."
"I see... I suppose that's a technique reserved for the true Masters."
I took his words in stride, but the implications were staggering. To think he stood on the same level as Master Yoda was a testament to his unique connection to the Force.
I finished recounting my current situation, then looked him in the eye.
"And you? How did you end up as a ghost? It's your turn, Anakin."
Anakin hesitated. The silence stretched, and I prepared myself for a difficult truth. But even my wildest guesses fell short. Whether the tale was "good" or "bad" is a matter of perspective, but the life he lived after my death was nothing short of an epic.
He began with his descent into the Dark Side and his rise as a Dark Lord of the Sith. He spoke of his duel with Master Kenobi and his defeat; the death of his wife caused by his own desperation; the rise of the Empire under Darth Sidious and the total destruction of the Republic. He spoke of the reign of terror he enforced across the stars.
It was the life of a monster. The number of lives he took likely numbered in the tens of thousands.
But then, he told me how his son had reached into the darkness and pulled his heart back to the light. He spoke of his return as a Jedi, his sacrifice to destroy Sidious, and how he had finally brought balance to the Force.
I had so many questions. (Mainly: You were secretly married?!)
But more than anything, I felt like I was listening to a grand saga—the tragedy and triumph of the Skywalker bloodline. I may have been a minor character who exited the stage early, but I felt a strange pride in having been a part of such a momentous life.
"And so, I died," he finished, his expression peaceful. "But even in joining the Force, I retained my sense of self."
He looked calm, as if the storms of his life had finally settled. When I asked if he felt at peace, he gave a hollow laugh.
"It's been twelve hundred years since those days, Avtus. The Jedi, the Republic... even their successors are long gone. It's over. Everything is gone."
I was struck dumb. Twelve hundred years?
I had suspected that the war was over, but I had harbored a small hope that I might one day return to Coruscant and find a home. To realize that everything I knew had turned to dust... it was a crushing weight.
"By the Force..." I whispered.
I felt like a man cast out of an escape pod in the middle of a void, with no engine and no destination. Every person who knew the name Avtus Ida was dead. Every stone of the Temple was likely crumbled.