The sky above Exegol was never still.
Black clouds folded into one another in endless spirals, torn apart by violet lightning that clawed down from the heavens and struck the planet's surface with thunder that shook the bones of the world. Ancient stone spires rose from the obsidian plains like the ribs of a dead god, carved with runes older than the Republic, older than memory itself.
At the heart of it all, deep within a cathedral hollowed directly into the bedrock, Palpus knelt.
He did not breathe.
He did not move.
The air around him trembled as the dark side bent inward, drawn to him like gravity. Sith runes pulsed faintly along the chamber walls, responding to his presence, feeding the currents of power that wrapped around his mind.
He was looking forward.
Not guessing.Not imagining.
Seeing.
Worlds burned and survived in branching possibilities. Fleets clashed in patterns too vast for mortal comprehension. Names rose and fell, empires formed and collapsed, and through it all, a single truth remained unchanged.
Compared to two years ago, his strength had multiplied beyond measure.
The Force no longer resisted him.
It answered.
A disturbance rippled through the chamber not hostile, not sudden, but unmistakable. The shadows lengthened, folding into a familiar shape as lightning froze in the air, suspended like veins of light trapped in crystal.
A projection formed before him.
Tall. Hooded. Ancient.
Yellow eyes ignited within the darkness.
"My son," came the voice of Darth Sidious, resonant and intimate, echoing both in the chamber and within Palpus's mind. "It has been two years. Tell me what you have accomplished."
Palpus opened his eyes.
They burned gold.
He rose smoothly to his feet, hands folding behind his back as the storm outside howled louder, as if the planet itself leaned closer to listen.
"Yes, Father," he said calmly. "Much has been completed."
The shadows behind him parted.
The chamber expanded revealing a vast hololithic projection that dwarfed the space itself. Stars appeared, then vanished, replaced by an armada so immense it stole breath from reality.
Rows upon rows of star destroyers filled the void.
Not hundreds.
Not thousands.
Tens of thousands.
"We have finished construction of the Eternal Fleet," Palpus continued. "Fifty thousand Xyston Omega-class Star Destroyers, fully operational."
Sidious's projection stilled.
"Fifty thousand," he repeated softly.
Palpus gestured, and the image shifted layers of schematics unfolding in precise, elegant motion.
"Each vessel incorporates a layered adaptive shield matrix," he said, voice measured, surgical. "Energy. Kinetic. Plasma. Exotic. The shields retune in real time, preventing cascade failure and rendering conventional countermeasures obsolete."
Destroyers flickered as simulated weapons struck them beams, missiles, mass drivers—each attack dispersing harmlessly.
"They are not merely warships," Palpus went on. "They are environmental dominators. Capable of sweeping all enemies here, beyond, and in realities adjacent should such threats arise."
For the first time, Sidious smiled openly.
"Excellent," he said, delight creeping into his tone. "Truly excellent."
Then his eyes narrowed.
"And the Death Star," Sidious asked. "You have not mentioned it."
Palpus inclined his head slightly.
"I did not continue the original design."
The hololith collapsed inward then expanded again.
What emerged was no longer a station.
It was a construct.
Vast beyond comprehension, its structure layered upon itself in impossible geometries, shielded, segmented, reinforced at every conceivable point. There was no exposed surface, no visible weakness only controlled annihilation given form.
"I dismantled it," Palpus said plainly. "And rebuilt it."
Sidious leaned closer.
"Explain."
"The original concept relied on singularity," Palpus replied. "One reactor. One fatal flaw. I removed both."
He gestured, and systems unfolded one by one.
"A fully sealed, distributed reactor network. No central core. Power is routed through multiple redundant spines with automatic load balancing. Internal energy dampening prevents chain reactions entirely."
Shield layers rotated, locking into place.
"Adaptive shielding. Directional and full-sphere coverage. No exposed poles. A reality-stabilized defensive field prevents faster-than-light insertion, exotic incursions, or non-local attack vectors."
The structure shimmered as simulated assaults simply failed to register.
"The superstructure itself is neutron-dense and energy-dispersive," Palpus continued. "Self-healing megastructure armor. Segmented internal compartments with total blast isolation. Even internal sabotage cannot propagate."
Sidious's smile widened, slow and predatory.
"And the weapon?"
Palpus's eyes gleamed.
"Modular superlaser emitters. Independently powered. Variable output—planetary annihilation, fleet erasure, precision strike. Continuous fire capability without full recharge cycles."
The hologram demonstrated it.
A planet ceased to exist.
A fleet vanished in a cone of light.
A city disappeared without touching the world beneath it.
"Thousands of heavy energy lances," Palpus added. "Phase-penetrating turbolasers. Graviton immobilization projectors. Relativistic mass-driver cannons. Planetary-scale point defense. Autonomous drone swarms."
More systems bloomed into view.
"FTL interdiction. Sensor suppression. False-structure projection to disguise readiness. Distributed command nodes no bridge vulnerability. Virtualized command environments."
He paused.
"Absolute immunity to hacking, infiltration, and sabotage."
Silence fell.
Even the storm outside seemed to hesitate.
Sidious laughed.
Low.Rich.Exultant.
"It has become," he said, savoring every word, "a weapon of pure destruction."
Palpus inclined his head once more.
"These are the plans," he said. "The galaxy will never see it coming."
Sidious's projection stepped closer, eyes burning brighter.
"Magnificent," he whispered. "You have surpassed even my expectations."
Then his tone shifted subtle, dangerous.
"And the other thing?"
Palpus's smile did not fade.
But something colder entered his gaze.
"That," he said softly, as lightning split the sky above Exegol, "is progressing exactly as foretold."