Jin-Woo turned smoothly, his long strides carrying him deeper into the shrine's "XoXaan… I'm sure you're aware there was a Sith long before me. And I know the title of Sith'ari was claimed by Darth Bane."
XoXaan's ghostly form drifted beside him, her eyes shimmering faintly in the dim air.
"He died," she murmured quietly. "And in death, he crafted the Rule of Two — a foolish, narrow cycle of survival. Master and apprentice, … a chain that guarantees nothing. There's no certainty the next Sith will be stronger — most apprentices simply cheat, stab the master in the back, and claim the title through lies, not power."
She floated closer, her voice dipping with dark reverence.
"But you… are not part of that chain. You are the immortal god. The endless darkness itself."
Jin-Woo gave a knowing smile, his gaze sharp. "You're right about that."
Jin-Woo moved steadily to the uppermost chamber, where the ancient Malachor superweapon loomed — the cursed device said to turn all life to stone, a relic of unspeakable destruction.
His sharp eyes swept over the countless Sith chalices, urns, and artifacts scattered across the darkened chamber. But it was the object near the back that truly caught his attention — a Fermata Cage, a Sith artifact shaped like a sinister hourglass, .
Without hesitation, Jin-Woo reached out, slipping the Fermata Cage into his shadow inventory, the artifact vanishing smoothly into his boundless domain.
He stood still for a moment, thoughtful, before murmuring,
"If I go to Korriban… since within my soul I already hold the right of Korriban itself… will the other Sith, like you, recognize me as the Sith'ari?"
XoXaan floated near, her face hardening slightly.
"Naga Sadow… and Darth Bane himself… they would not recognize you," she admitted carefully. "Even as spirits, some of the sith would resist. And besides… I do not believe it is the right time to claim Korriban — not while the Jedi Order stands at its height."
Jin-Woo's lips curved slightly, his gaze turning sharper.
"Then let me change the question." He tilted his head faintly. "If I don't destroy the Jedi Order… what will all of you do?"
XoXaan floated closer, her ghostly form pulsing faintly as she answered in a low, measured tone.
"I… I don't know what the others would do," she admitted carefully. "But if you make your empire flourish — if you prove to the Jedi the limits of their naivety — that alone would be more than enough. Though…" Her voice darkened slightly, the other ancient Sith spirits flickering behind her.
"I will admit… no, we will admit… we want you to destroy them. To the core."
Jin-Woo gave a small, thoughtful hum.
"Some of them are the good guys," he said lightly. "I have a personal rule — you don't fuck with me, and we have no problem. Especially the good ones. But…" His smile sharpened further, a glint dancing in his eyes.
"I think all of you will enjoy it — the day the entire Republic learns… that the strongest being in the galaxy has been born."
XoXaan bowed her head slightly, her voice, reverent tones.
"Thank you… Sith'ari."
Jin-Woo stepped forward, his eyes narrowing slightly as he inspected the towering superweapon — the Malachor device's massive kyber crystal at its heart. He ran a sharp gaze over its surface. No deep cracks, only minor bruises — structurally, it was still intact.
Behind him, XoXaan floated closer, her voice dropping low, almost like a whisper carried on the wind.
"But… personal request, Sith'ari… please punish Sheev Palpatine. Kill him. He is not a Sith."
Jin-Woo gave a faint, dry chuckle, tilting his head slightly.
"Not going to call him Sidious?" he murmured. "He's a Sith."
XoXaan's spectral eyes hardened, her form pulsing faintly.
"No," she hissed, her voice sharp with disdain. "He's a sniveling noble from Naboo. We have watched him from afar — we tolerated Plagueis because he was a product of every living Sith before him. But Sidious? I Don't , He's a backstabber, nothing more. A foolish noble who was granted power — nothing more."
Jin-Woo let out a low, amused breath, a dark glint flashing in his eye.
"You'd better take turns with Morgan, then," he said smoothly. "Because if I give her the go… she's going to mutilate him like a roasted deer."
Offensive Bias's small drone slipped through a faint ripple of slipspace, its cold, clipped voice humming into Jin-Woo's mind.
"Report: Maul and your clone, Supreme Executor, are currently five hundred meters from the Sith shrine. It appears Sidious has given the order — Maul has been authorized to kill you."
Jin-Woo arched an eyebrow slightly, his expression calm, voice dry. "Did the clone suffer any damage?"
Offensive Bias replied without pause. "Minor bruises. The clone crashed into a wall twice during the encounter."
Jin-Woo let out a soft, almost bored hum. "Uh huh."
Without wasting another moment, he focused inward, his mind sharpening like a blade. Reaching through the invisible threads, he activated [Force Essence Transfer], slipping part of his will directly into the clone.
At the same time, his voice flicked across to Offensive Bias.
"Prepare to sink the entire Sith shrine — coordinate with Morgan. Have her fire Rhongomyniad from Kamino through her gateway. The target is the underground structure. I want it driven so deep even Maul won't know what hit it… and when he reports back to Sidious, he'll be telling him something's gone wrong, something neither of them understands."
Offensive Bias answered crisply, without hesitation.
"Affirmative, Supreme Executor. Operation underway."
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Jin-Woo clone staggered slightly, panting, down on one knee — its breath ragged, body showing signs of exhaustion after dodging Maul's relentless strikes.
Maul smirked darkly, his double-bladed lightsaber spinning smoothly into position as he stepped forward, ready to deliver the final, killing blow.
But just as the blade arced downward —
WHAM! The clone's fist shot upward like a whip, slamming straight into Maul's face with brutal precision. Maul's eyes widened in shock as the punch connected, sending him flying backward with such force that he crashed into a giant boulder with a bone-jarring crack.
The clone straightened up slightly, grinning wide as it wiped imaginary sweat from its brow.
"Woo! Classic… fooling someone is very, very satisfying," the clone said with a playful, almost taunting laugh.
Maul lay silent for a moment, mind reeling, his face twisting with confusion.
His personality… it's different. Suddenly… he's too cheerful.
Maul's fingers tightened around his double-bladed lightsaber, his jaw clenching. Without a word, he tapped into the Force — a surge of speed ripping through his body — and in a blink, he was upon Jin-Woo, his crimson blades flashing in a perfect Niman pattern .
But Jin-Woo… Smiled.
He leaned back just slightly, letting the first strike miss his nose by a hair. He twisted smoothly as the second blade came, sidestepping with a lazy grace that made Maul's eyes narrow. Every precise slash, every spinning arc — Jin-Woo ducked, dodged, weaved, as if he were dancing through the air itself.
"Come on, red horns," Jin-Woo said with a teasing grin, hands tucked casually behind his back as he leaned out of another slash. "You're supposed to be faster than this. You're making me yawn."
Maul didn't speak — but the flicker of irritation in his eyes sharpened, his grip tightening as his swings grew faster, sharper.
Jin-Woo, still dodging effortlessly, gave a little sigh.
"Careful, … if you get too angry, you'll start slipping. I'm rooting for you, you know."
Maul's rage burned hotter and hotter, his strikes blurring as his double-bladed saber slashed through the air. But Jin-Woo, ever calm, ever grinning, simply swayed and slipped between each deadly arc, his voice light and mocking.
"Do your best, … come on, do your best, man."
That was when Maul felt it — a sharp, sudden crack of pain. He froze mid-motion, eyes darting down. Jin-Woo had slipped a blaster from his belt and shot him clean through the stomach.
Maul's breath hitched, his lips pulling back in a snarl, but Jin-Woo just kept smiling, stepping back with a teasing wave.
"Ah, there you go. Nice form… but too angry, too sloppy."
Suddenly, the ground beneath them rumbled — a deep, heavy vibration shaking through the ancient stone walls. Jin-Woo's eyes flicked upward slightly, his grin sharpening.
The clone's time is up, huh…
At that moment, Jin-Woo's clone exhaled softly, his eyes closing in still acceptance. Maul's fury exploded — he drove his saber forward with a snarl, stabbing it deep into the clone's chest and then cleaving clean through, slicing the body in two.
But— In the clone's limp hands, five thermal detonators gleamed faintly, the timers already ticking down.
Maul's eyes widened in alarm — too late.
The blast ripped through the shrine's lower chamber with devastating force, fire and shockwaves hurling Maul's body backward. He slammed into a crumbling wall, his flesh seared, deep cuts ripping across his limbs, the armor at his waist shattered, his skin blistered and scorched — but his organs, barely, stayed intact.
Gasping, Maul staggered to one knee, his saber shaking in his grip. His breath came ragged, his face twisted in a snarl of disbelief.
" That merchant… he wanted to take me down with him…"
With a grimace, Maul scanned the debris, his sharp eyes catching pieces of tattered dark fabric — fragments of Jin-Woo's clothing, charred and torn, fluttering faintly in the smoldering air.
He staggered forward, kneeling down painfully to snatch up the scraps, his fingers curling tight around them. His eye caught something else — a single, pale, glassy piece, shaped like an eye. He grabbed it.
Limping, his muscles screaming, Maul forced himself upright and began dragging himself toward his scimitar ship, the battered remains clutched tightly in his hand. But before he reached it—
The ground beneath his feet shuddered violently.
A deep, thunderous rumble echoed across the surface of Malachor. Cracks spiderwebbed through the ancient stone, the earth groaning as the massive Sith shrine — the very heart of the world — began to sink, crumbling downward into the cavernous underground, pulled into the abyss below.
Maul's eyes widened in startled realization, his sharp mind snapping to attention even through the haze of pain.
Did… did this cursed merchant's death… actually destabilize Malachor itself?! No matter. No matter.One thing is certain — I will bring his remains to my master.
Inside the rumbling, collapsing Sith shrine, the real Jin-Woo stood calmly, his arms folded, eyes gleaming faintly in the flickering shadows.
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Around him, XoXaan's ghostly form hovered anxiously, her voice tight with disbelief.
"Sith'ari… I still don't understand. What is your plan? Are you trying to—suicide?"
Jin-Woo's lips curled into a faint, knowing smile.
"Just wait."
Without warning, a colossal slipspace distortion erupted beneath the shrine — a shimmering, swirling vortex of space-time, swallowing the entire structure whole in a pulse of blinding light. The temple's sinking, crumbling mass vanished in an instant, ripped clean from Malachor's surface and pulled away into the void.
The next heartbeat, they were no longer on Malachor.
The entire shrine — stone, artifacts, altars, every slab and pillar — materialized deep within the vast, endless darkness of Shadow Tython, Jin-Woo's boundless autonomous domain.
XoXaan, hovering near Jin-Woo, spun slowly, her ghostly eyes wide in stunned disbelief.
"…Your main target…" she whispered, her voice almost trembling, "…was to heist the shrine itself."
The other ancient Sith ghosts turned to look at each other, silent, awestruck, their dead minds reeling.
This man… this Sith'ari… He stole the entire shrine.He stole the whole damn thing.
They could only stare at their chosen, their prophesied one — realizing, with mounting awe and an edge of fear, just how insane, how unfathomably daring, their Sith'ari truly was.
Jin-Woo turned smoothly, stepping toward the edge of the dark platform, his voice calm but edged with warning.
"You bunch of ghosts — stay here or go back to Korriban if you want. I'll travel there myself when I'm ready. In the meantime, don't wander too far across Shadow Tython."
he added with a quiet smirk, "My entire shadow army… has very little patience for your kind. Be careful."
XoXaan swallowed hard, her ghostly form stiffening.
Did he just say… Tython?No… I heard him right… Shadow Tython.
The home of the Je'daii — the progenitors of the Jedi…And he's converted it… into his domain.
Outside, Jin-Woo stepped onto the soil of Shadow Tython, the vast blackened landscape stretching out beneath an endless, swirling sky of darkness and starlight.
From a glowing pinkish-purple portal, Morgan emerged gracefully, her eyes glinting with sly curiosity.
Another weapon, she purred,.
Jin-Woo gave a casual, lopsided grin. "Yeah… I need one."
Suddenly, Offensive Bias's calm, crystalline voice chimed into his mind.
"Supreme Executor — permission requested to pose a personal inquiry regarding your ultimate goal."
Jin-Woo gave a light nod. "Granted."
Offensive Bias continued smoothly, its tone precise, analytical.
"Supreme Executor, by all measurable metrics, you are currently the most powerful individual in the galaxy — comparable even to Abeloth herself at her prime. Presently, Abeloth is locked in conflict, battling the Flood inside her own nervous system. Why, then, does Supreme Executor not simply conclude this game… rather than prolong it?"
Jin-Woo's eyes glinted faintly, his voice lowering with quiet weight.
"My original goal… was never just about being the Shadow Monarch," he murmured. "It was to restore my original power — the true me. Not Jin-Woo, or even the Monarch… but me, as the Remorseless."
Offensive Bias fell silent for a beat, then intoned evenly,
"I have seen a glimpse, Supreme Executor. When you unleashed the Blackflame Alastor — the one that can erase the Endless themselves, make them vanish from existence as if they never were."