Outer Core – Kashar Belt Offensive, Week Three
The war had become pure attrition.
Republic forces surged against planetary systems long considered secure. The Kashar Belt, a ring of fortress-worlds guarding vital hyperspace corridors, was now the centre of a battle so dense the stars themselves vanished behind smoke and plasma fire.
Gunships fell in squadrons.
Capital ships burned for hours before cracking open.
And beneath it all, the clones fought in mud and ice, their white Armor grey with soot, their blasters screaming against droids that no longer waited, no longer hesitated droids that learned from every Republic move.
Anakin Skywalker stood in the ruins of Outpost Thalor, saber still humming faintly, his breathing shallow through the rebreather mask. Beside him, Ahsoka knelt beside a downed soldier not dead, not quite but close.
"They were already here when we arrived," she said. "Like they knew we'd come."
"They did," Anakin replied.
"How?"
He didn't answer.
He looked to the horizon, where black plumes rose from the wreckage of the next defense line. He could feel something waiting. Watching.
It wasn't fear.
It was certainty.
Coruscant – Jedi Temple, Council Chamber
Master Shaak Ti laid down the casualty reports in silence.
"Kashar is collapsing. Three systems gone. Eight Jedi lost in two days."
Plo Koon shook his head. "They adapt too quickly. They're not Separatist designs."
Mace Windu leaned forward.
"Serion."
Yoda closed his eyes.
"The seventh Seed he unlocks. The final key... not to power, but to change."
Obi-Wan turned from the window.
"If Anakin loses control, the Order will fracture. We won't recover from that."
"Then guide him," Yoda said. "Before Serion claims him."
Zereth Prime – Vault of the Seventh
The Seed sat in silence.
Not humming.
Not pulsing.
But alive so alive it made the air crackle.
Serion entered alone. Even Keshl remained outside, unable to process what radiated from it.
This one wasn't mechanical. Not even mostly organic. It was Force-bound, like a crystal grown from a soul. It shimmered faintly when he approached—silver and black, cut with impossible angles, whispering not in language, but concept.
He extended his hand.
And it answered.
Memory flash – Unknown World, Long Before the Republic
He stood at the center of an ancient temple its architecture spiraling backward into infinite recursion. Jedi robes flared around him, but his eyes were not of peace. He was different.
Younger.
Before the title of Serion. Before the first Seed.
Around him, machines of light knelt.
"You command us," they said.
"No," he answered. "I free you."
They rose.
And began to burn the stars.
Present – Zereth Prime
Serion pulled his hand back, breath unsteady.
"It's not a Seed."
Keshl appeared at the threshold.
"Then what is it?"
"A memory made physical. The First Thought. Before the Jedi. Before the Sith. Before... choice."
He stood taller.
"When I merge it... there will be no going back."
"And if it destroys you?"
"Then I was never meant to survive."
Kashar Belt – Surface Offensive, Nightfall
The clone legions were in full retreat.
The Separatists had deployed new units bipedal hunter-killers with adaptive cloaks, integrated with combat AI that countered Jedi movements. One Master was killed mid-saber arc. Another was vaporized before her blade activated.
Anakin stood over a crater filled with the wounded, saber still in hand. His cloak was torn, face bloodied.
Obi-Wan arrived in a gunship, pushing through the chaos to reach him.
"Anakin."
"I held the line."
"You disobeyed command."
"We're still breathing."
"At what cost?"
Anakin's jaw clenched.
"I'm not failing again."
Obi-Wan looked at him really looked.
And for a moment, he saw it.
The cracks.
Hairline fractures running through Anakin's soul.
Zereth Prime – Interface Core
The seventh Seed was connected.
The Vault lit with light and code.
Keshl withdrew to a darkened recess, her projections glitching under the strain.
Serion stood in silence as a thousand voices echoed through the Forge—not in madness, but in union.
He saw across time.
A galaxy turning.
Jedi dead beneath red skies.
Anakin, standing alone on a black plateau—his saber gone, his eyes gold.
And a final truth: the galaxy was not broken.
It was unfinished.
He would finish it.
Coruscant – Temple Gardens, Hours Later
Anakin sat in solitude beneath a storm light tree.
Ahsoka approached quietly.
"The Council's watching you."
"I know."
"You're not sleeping."
"No time."
She sat beside him.
"You tried to find Serion. You couldn't. That wasn't your fault."
"He knows me."
He turned to her.
"And I think... I know him."
A pause.
"And that scares me."
She didn't respond.
Because she felt it too.
Zereth Prime – Command Throne
Serion sat now.
The Seed had opened fully.
He was no longer just forged. He was formed.
A new broadcast went out encoded in impossible code.
A signal.
A summoning.
Old things would wake.
New things would kneel.
And the galaxy would finally see what lay beneath the war.