( 3000 words ) , including preview
Jin-Woo pointed lightly toward the Strong Republic troops waiting outside.
"Right now, your position is miserable. If I step out of this temple, even for five minutes… you split. Tarkin will start his little campaign. He'll pick off your Order one by one. He'll take the younglings. He'll take the Padawans. And some of you will follow him because you believe unity with the Republic is the only chance for survival."
Silence hit the courtyard like a dropped stone. Several Jedi who had relaxed before now swallowed hard. They suddenly realized why Tarkin hadn't moved. Why the soldiers hadn't advanced.. It wasn't because the Jedi were respected. It was because Jin-Woo hadn't left.
Yoda exhaled, slow and steady. "Correct, he is. Dangerous the moment Jin-Woo departs, the situation becomes."
Windu closed his eyes briefly. He didn't like agreeing with Jin-Woo—but the truth was undeniable.
Tarkin stayed frozen in place, jaw tight, barely hiding the fear behind his stare. The presence of the Shadow Monarch made every soldier stand stiff. Even the reporters, looked between Jin-Woo and the army as if watching the galaxy balance on one thread.
Jin-Woo leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on his knees.
"You all think the Republic and Jedi are inseparable? Wrong. Today proved that the Republic will throw you under the speeder if it benefits them. You've been living on peace so long you forgot that politics doesn't love you. It uses you."
Jin-woo lifted his chin toward Yoda. "You're not at the bottom because of weakness. You're at the bottom because you trusted the wrong people."
The words landed hard. Qui-Gon felt them like a pressure on his sternum. "Then what must we do, Jin-Woo? You and I both know you don't like us. And none of us can keep you here for long."
Jin-Woo looked at him for a moment, unreadable. "You want my suggestion? You're serious? Like I said before — I'm not a hero. I don't save the day out of righteousness. Everything I carry is extreme. Change that will make you angrier. And darker. My affinity isn't the light or the dark side — it's the void. Black hole logic. More dangerous than your usual Sith."
His gaze swept the kneeling Jedi. "I don't want to throw meaningless words if you don't want to hear them."
Yoda stepped forward, leaning on his cane. His voice carried quiet authority. "I speak on behalf of the Jedi now. Options, we have none. If there is a path — even a harsh one — better to hear it than fall further. Your suggestion… may yet repair what is broken between the Jedi and the Republic."
Jin-Woo said nothing. He simply lowered his eyes, letting silence wrap around him while he sifted through the weight of his next words.
When he finally spoke, his tone was flat. Unyielding.
"This is what I would do if I stood in your position… which will never happen to me, because I'm very, very extreme. What would I choose? The most suitable option is this: leave Coruscant. Never come back to this forsaken steel sky that breeds disparity in every district."
The Jedi stiffened. Windu's jaw locked. Ki-Adi tilted forward as if he hadn't heard correctly.
Jin-Woo continued. "And if it were me? If someone stabbed me in the back the way the Republic stabbed you? My answer is simple. An eye for an eye. And for me… death would be the merciful version."
A cold ripple passed through the courtyard.
Palpatine—silent until now—stepped forward with his practiced gentleness.
"That is a dangerous suggestion, Jin-Woo , Ignoring your… most extreme definition of justice, even the first part is catastrophic. If the Jedi leave Coruscant—if they exile themselves—the galaxy will plunge into chaos. Space pirates, the Hutt clans, the Trade Federation… none of them will restrain themselves. Without the Jedi, the Republic cannot defend itself."
Jin-Woo didn't even turn toward him. "Then next time, you need to work harder to stop your co-chancellor Tarkin. At least make the outside look nice and rainbow with politics instead of forcing the Jedi's hand right here and now."
Palpatine inhaled slowly, eyes lowering, his benevolent mask undisturbed.
Jin-Woo's gaze shifted back to the Jedi. "But Palpatine has no right to answer for you,
" This isn't his decision. It's yours." Jin- woo lifted a hand and pointed , just directly—at the smallest figure in the room.
"Grand Master Yoda. Your decision will decide thousands of Jedi lives."
Every Knight, every Master, every youngling held their breath.
Windu glanced at Yoda.
Qui-Gon looked at him like waiting for a verdict.
Obi-Wan felt something coil tight in his stomach.
Yoda closed his eyes once, deeply. The grief of Dooku, the shame of the Temple breach, the weight of the Order's future… all of it pressed into the lines of his face.
"Jin-Woo," he said quietly, voice low and worn, "from your travels, it seems… seen everything, you have. To you, perhaps, the Republic's fragile fate… not such a great problem it is."
Jin-Woo answered. "This galaxy has had a peaceful era . That's what makes it precious. None of you have any idea what a real galactic war looks like. But we won't talk about that now. It seems you want to ask something else, right?"
Yoda nodded once, slow. "Jin-Woo… what the galaxy truly thinks of us, wish to know I'am . The Jedi—what are we, in their eyes?"
Jin-Woo's lips curled in a small, sharp smile. "That's a galaxy-worthy question. I've been waiting for at least one of you Inner Council members to ask that. And damn—the Grand Master himself finally asks me."
"Yeah, right," Obi-Wan muttered. "Calm yourself, Jin-Woo. And please don't mock us too much."
Jin-Woo said. "I won't mock you . Especially now, when you've been reduced to this state. I'll only deliver facts."
He pressed his thumb to the floor, drawing a rough circle into the flowery ground — a symbol of the Core Worlds.
"The Core Worlds," Jin-Woo continued, his tone flat, "especially the jewel worlds… everyone there looks up to you. To them, you're heroes. In my terms? Bootlickers and fake smiles. All the way until today, until an ancient Sith crawled out of the dead and proved how fragile everything is , The Core Worlds loved you because you were convenient. But that love dies the moment you stop fitting their perfect image."
Palpatine lifted a hand, trying to soften the blow. "That's very pessimistic. The Republic is not hating the Jedi the way you imagine, Jin-Woo."
Jin-Woo ignored him without even turning.
"I don't know about the Mid Rim," Jin-Woo said. "Probably neutral. They still believe in you, but not with the same respect the Core once had."
He shifted his hand, drawing a wider ring around the first.
"Now the Outer Rim," he said, tone sharpening. "Like Tatooine. Like the poor worlds you always ignore. Out there? It's simple. Most of them think the Jedi kidnap children. Which you don't. But they still brand you that way."
Yoda breathed out slowly, his voice low and heavy. "Hard to face, these truths are… yet see them, we must."
Windu stepped forward, jaw set. "No, Master Yoda. That's not true. We give the younglings a brighter future. We all do."
Ki-Adi-Mundi shook his head, stubborn as granite. "That's an exaggeration. The Outer Rim always spreads falsehoods about us. Nothing more."
Jocasta Nu lifted her chin, bristling. "Jin-Woo, our methods are not kidnapping. We—"
Jin-Woo cut her off with a small flick of his hand.
"I know your whole gig. And this troublesome method you're all so proud of. First thing you do is convince the parents. Maybe you use a mind trick, maybe you don't. Doesn't matter. You promise their infants a better life here, right? A life with opportunity. A life of service."
Several Jedi nodded—cautious, defensive.
Jin-Woo's tone hardened. "But in exchange—attachment is forbidden. Family is forbidden. Emotions are trimmed down like weeds. 'Only the Force.'"
His gaze swept across the courtyard. The younglings behind the Knights shrank back.
"That," Jin-Woo said, "is a very, very, VERY wrong way of thinking."
Windu's brow tightened, but he didn't speak.
Jin-Woo continued. "I know your rules were made by old fools who lived a thousand years ago. But those same fools also built your Temple"
—he pointed down toward the floor of Avalon's illusion, toward the buried darkness beneath it—
" right on top of a Sith shrine. Quite ironic, don't you think?"
Every Jedi fell silent. Even Yoda's ears lowered by a fraction. The pillars of the Order suddenly felt thinner, more brittle, under Jin-Woo's blunt truth.
Jin-Woo's voice cut through the hush like a blade dragged across glass. "I can't list all the fucking things you've done wrong. There's too many. But here's the underline, so pay attention. Even if you climb back up now , you're still chained. By the Senate. By politics. By people who don't like you acting on your own. Like freeing slaves in the Outer Rim. Since, you know… no taxes come from them."
A few Jedi shifted, shame tightening their shoulders.
"And the bureaucracy," Jin-Woo continued, "is so fucked up that the Hutt Clan is still legally allowed to have slaves. That alone should tell you how useless your rules are. So your best option? Leave Coruscant. Forget this stupid marathon you've been running for centuries."
His gaze shifted to the younglings in the distance, some clinging to one another, some confused. "And if possible, let your younglings meet their families again. If they still have attachment."
Jocasta Nu stepped forward, shoulders tense behind her robes. "I still must press this, Jin-Woo. Attachment—if they lose their loved ones—it makes them weak to the influence of the dark side."
Jin-Woo raised a brow. "If they touch the dark side, then train them. Teach them how to use it. Control it. Think simple."
"Your records may be forgotten or deleted now, but there was once a man called Darth Revan. He used both dark side and light side. He reached a balance that every single one of you has lost ."
Jocasta Nu drew herself up, robes rustling as she stepped forward. "I am the librarian of this Order for a long time," she said sharply. "And I can assure you, there is no one called Revan. Our archives record everything that has ever occurred. If it does not appear, then it simply never existed in the first place."
Jin-Woo stared at her as if she had claimed the sky was green.
"It looks like this," he said, voice dry. "A dying strength trying to prove itself against an immovable object. Which is me."
He stood up . Several Jedi instinctively straightened; even the younglings quieted, sensing something decisive.
"I've already said what I needed to say. And I'm a bit surprised," Jin-Woo added, eyes flicking toward Yoda, "that the Grand Master of the Jedi himself asked for my suggestion."
Yoda inclined his head in silence, accepting the point.
"But the others?" Jin-Woo's tone sharpened. "You haven't changed one bit."
His gaze shifted briefly to a cluster of younglings. One of them tried to meet his eyes, then looked down again. Yaddle watched him too, hope flickering in her expression as if silently begging him not to disappear.
Jin-Woo exhaled once, low and steady. "I'll stay, Maximum seven days in this Temple. Minimum, three. I've got things to do, and I'm not your guardian angel."
Jin woo lifted his chin toward the room filled with Jedi, chancellors, and uneasy peace. "Beyond that, your fate is your own."
Yoda's eyes lowered, the ancient lines on his face tightening with the weight of a decision that spanned centuries. "Think, we must… more deeply. Wrong, you are not, Jin-Woo. But heavy, this choice will be. Heaviest we have faced. Stay longer, I hope you can. Not only three days."
Jin-Woo answered calmly. "Take your time, Grandmaster. Besides, I don't want this Avalon I created to become a public park. One day, I'll disperse it. Enjoy the peace while it lasts."
Windu spoke next, his voice firm but edged with uncertainty. "Jin-Woo… even if you are right that we need to leave—where would we go? Coruscant is our home. Our symbol. This is where we brought peace, order, light to the galaxy. It is strategically placed. And most importantly, it sits on a strong vergence in the Force."
Jin-Woo only smiled, the kind that didn't reach the eyes. "Yeah. Finished talking? If yes, then huddle up with your groups as soon as you can. Because the days ahead might be your last days as peacekeepers."
His gaze sharpened on Windu. "After that, you're either free… or you're slaves. Like you've always been. Make it count, Master of the Order."
He stepped away, walking in a slow circle through the section of the hall still blooming with Avalon's flowers. His steps were relaxed. His expression calm. But deep below the floor—far beneath the illusioned meadow—his shadow soldiers and Forerunner sentinels carved through stone in perfect silence. Under Despondent Pyre's direction, the excavation stripped the Sith shrine layer by layer. This time Jin-Woo wasn't robbing it—he was emptying it down to the bones. Everything would be taken. Everything would be moved. And Zeta Halo would receive it all.
Despondent Pyre's voice echoed in his mind like a vibrating chime. Supreme Executor, we already placed Malachor Temple on Zeta Halo. Do you need more Sith temples, sir?
Jin-Woo answered with a casual flick of thought. Yeah, I need more. Also bargaining power with my fellow Hadou Gods should I need it.
He kept walking, hands in his pockets, gaze drifting across flowers only he had ever seen bloom in this galaxy. The younglings watched him from behind Jocasta's robes, whispering to each other. One older initiate tugged her sleeve and whispered, "Master Nu… is Jin-Woo fine? He's smiling at empty places."
Jocasta Nu stiffened but kept her voice calm. "Better stay clear from him. He is unorthodox. Younglings, go to the other training grounds. We must prepare a briefing."
But one didn't move. A small set of steps padded quickly across the Avalon grass. Ahsoka.
Plo Koon inhaled, already taking a step. "Ahsoka… what's your intention?"
But the young Togruta didn't stop. She planted herself right in front of Jin-Woo, small hands balled at her sides, chin lifted in a courage that didn't match her size. Jin-Woo stopped walking. His eyes—dark purple, unreadable—lowered toward her.
Ahsoka swallowed, but didn't move back. She bowed once, deep, both montrals dipping.
"Thank you, sir Jin-Woo," she said. "For at least relieving my comrades' worries."
Announcement – Slight Delay
Hey everyone, just a quick heads-up! The next fight scene is shaping up to be what might be my best masterpiece yet, so I'm taking a little extra time to polish it properly. Because of that, Wednesday's post may be delayed to Friday instead.
This fight will feature the final battle between Naga Sadow and Morgan, Queen of the Lostbelt, which I've been planning for weeks. I'll also do my best to at least finish the Phantom Menace arc this December, and move into the next arc before the Clone Wars in January.
I really want this one to be perfect. As a bonus, there will also be a preview for the next chapter included.
Preview for next chapter :
Jin-Woo stared down at her for a heartbeat that stretched. The Jedi around the room tensed, every hand half-ready to move, though none dared approach. Jin-Woo shifted his stance, voice low and even. "Go to the grandma over there. Right now I'm just a guest."
Ahsoka blinked, confused—but she nodded, a small smile slipping through before she turned and hurried back toward Jocasta Nu and the cluster of younglings. Jocasta herded them away with a relieved exhale.
Plo Koon stepped closer, careful but sincere. "You're surprisingly good with kids. I thought you would hate everything that happened in the Jedi Order."
Jin-Woo didn't look at him. He kept walking, hands in his pockets, gaze drifting across the glowing flowers of Avalon. "I hate your mindset," he said. "And the stupid rules that were made. As for the others… well. That depends on what happens in the future."
The ground trembled. Another quake.
Mace Windu shifted into stance. "Jedi, prepare yourselves. The Sith who attacked us before—who possessed Dooku—may be ready to strike again. Ready yourselves."
Dozens of lightsaber hilts clicked under tightening fingers. Boots spread. Breaths steadied.
Yoda approached Jin-Woo, his small face drawn tight. "Jin-Woo… hire you as a mercenary for the Jedi Order and Republic, I would. Much we lack, now. Much we—"
Jin-Woo cut him off with a raised hand. "The Sith isn't coming here. You're all overreacting."
Before Windu could argue, one of Tarkin's aides sprinted up the stairs, pale.
"Chancellor Tarkin—sir—the quake… it came from outer space!"
Palpatine's eyes narrowed with crafted concern. "A quake… from space?"
Jin-Woo already knew. something pushed that fight into dragon ball territory.
A faint exhale left him. Morgan, it seems Naga Sadow is a bit too much for you. This might be your first loss since you followed me into this galaxy. But don't worry. true peace begins only after a fight equal to the Ones themselves.
Then Jin-Woo let his presence slip sideways—into the past. Flow Walking bent the air around him, time folding like cloth. His voice drifted backward one hour, threading through the Force like a blade dragged across the surface of a dream.
"Isn't that right… Naga Sadow?"
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Timetable: One hour earlier
Naga Sadow's eyes snapped open.
He lay half-buried in the blistering sand of Tatooine's wasteland, heat shimmering off cracked dunes. His breath rasped through a throat that no longer matched his body.
His form was mutilated—half his original shape missing, his perfect Sith transformation broken . What was left had stabilized into a shape eerily close to Dooku's.
Naga Sadow pushed himself upright. I should be on Korriban … he thought. Why am I on this barren wasteland? What planet… is this?