Core World Border – Denon Defence Grid
The skies were on fire.
Republic cruisers orbited in low formation over Denon, launching wave after wave of clone squadrons. Anti-orbital platforms blazed back with improved Separatist targeting systems, cutting into hulls with scalpel precision. Entire sectors of the city-world burned below financial towers, Senate-backed industrial blocks, power stations wiped out in coordinated strikes.
On the ground, ARC troopers fought from shattered rooftops. Their armor was scorched. Their voices raw. They were holding but barely.
The war had changed.
These weren't just Separatist droids anymore. These were hybrids combat units built from forgotten blueprints, upgraded with Keshl's AI design, fast enough to read Jedi movements, armored enough to ignore E-Web fire.
And they were winning.
Republic Flagship Resolute En Route to Denon
Anakin Skywalker stood at the viewport in silence. His armor had been reforged since the Mandalore loss sleeker, darker, scarred by more than fire. He said nothing as the crew delivered updates. He had been silent since the briefing.
Ahsoka finally broke the tension.
"We're losing Denon. They want us to strike the orbital guns first, but"
"No," Anakin said. "We go straight for the foundry."
"But the foundry's inside the blast radius"
"Then we move fast."
She stepped closer.
"This isn't about Mandalore, Anakin."
"Everything's about Mandalore now."
Zereth Prime – Core Tactical Map
Serion stood at the command lattice, watching the Denon battle unfold through a fractured strategic lens.
"Phase-six droid variants are adapting," Keshl reported. "Clone formations crumbling in expected sectors."
"And Skywalker?"
"Returned. Aggression levels heightened. Tactical error probability lowered."
Serion nodded slightly.
"He's becoming who he needs to be."
"To destroy you?" Keshl asked.
He turned.
"No. To survive me."
Denon – Industrial Sector Delta
The Resolute slammed into the upper atmosphere, shedding escape pods that landed like meteorites. Anakin led the first wave, igniting his saber mid-air, deflecting flak as he dropped onto a landing pad surrounded by Serion's droids.
He didn't wait for support.
His blade was a storm. His mind a furnace. He moved faster than his men could follow cutting through the enemy like the battle itself feared him.
Behind him, Ahsoka and Captain Rex pushed the front forward, taking the foundry sector block by block.
"They're not retreating!" Rex shouted. "They're recalculating!"
"Then break their logic," Ahsoka replied, pushing forward.
Anakin reached the command core and tore open the doors not with explosives.
With the Force.
He found the central AI node a silver orb laced with black pulse-circuits.
It didn't resist.
It watched him.
And then it whispered:
"He's waiting."
Anakin crushed it.
Coruscant – Jedi Temple, Council Tower
Master Windu stood before the war map.
Plo Koon had just returned from the Felucia front, bloodied and weary.
"Skywalker is pushing harder," Plo said. "He's winning, but not... balanced."
Yoda nodded.
"The war ends not in victory. But in choice."
Shaak Ti leaned forward.
"We must reach Serion before Skywalker does."
Obi-Wan looked away.
"We may already be too late."
Zereth Prime – Seed Chamber 7
The seventh Seed pulsed beneath containment. Unlike the others, it had never been placed. Never sent. It was kept.
Hidden.
A final voice. One that Serion had never spoken to aloud.
Until now.
He placed his hand on the interface.
"They are ready to fall. What do you offer me?"
The Seed didn't respond in words.
It responded in visions.
Jedi burning.
Planets screaming.
Skywalker standing alone beneath a black sun.
Taliya entered the chamber, breath held.
"That's the seventh?"
Serion's voice was different now. Hollow.
"It is not a Seed."
He turned.
"It's a key."
Denon Outer Wall, Aftermath
The city still burned, but the Republic flag flew again.
Anakin stood among the bodies, not looking at them.
Ahsoka approached.
"You won."
"We lost more than we needed to."
"You disobeyed three orders."
"We have the city."
She paused.
"This... isn't peace."
"No," he said. "It's survival."
And he walked away.
Taliya stood alone in the lower vault, watching an old recording—Serion, from years ago, before the fifth Seed. Younger. Conflicted.
"I don't want to destroy," his past voice said. "But peace must be earned."
She turned it off.
And wondered—
What had he become?
And what would she do if it was too far