Chapter Text
This is the story of a Jedi named Anakin.
A long time ago, Anakin lived in the Jedi Temple, where he was one of ten thousand other Jedi in this galaxy far, far away.
He was a lot like most other Jedi: He was skilled in the force, a capable warrior, and had a lightsaber that was blue and not red. He fought in the Clone Wars (like most Jedi), had an up-and-down relationship with his Jedi Master (like most Jedi), had brushes with the Dark Side to which he teetered closer and closer to every day (like some Jedi), had a secret wife (unlike most Jedi), and a close personal relationship with the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic, who had also been grooming him to be his new evil Sith apprentice for the past decade (unlike most Jedi).
Overall, Anakin was doing well.
He liked being a Jedi. He liked winning his battles and sneaking into the Senate and using the Force to float pears around. He liked his cantina food and his training salles and being able to do neat backflips whenever he felt like it.
And Anakin was happy.
Until one day, something very peculiar happened.
Something that would change Anakin.
Something he would never quite forget.
You see, Anakin had been having these unfortunate visions of his wife dying in childbirth for the past month. This, understandably, was a source of distress for him. But from his good pal, the Chancellor, from whom he could usually rely on pleasant company to relieve his distress, he instead received even more distressing news:
His good friend the Chancellor was a Sith Lord.
How troubling!
What a twist!
Shocked, frozen solid, Anakin found himself unable to move for a long time. But then, coming to his senses and being the good little Jedi he was, Anakin requested kindly that the Chancellor please stay put and scuttled off to report him to the Jedi Council.
The Jedi Masters immediately leapt into action, leaving Anakin behind to ruminate in complete isolation.
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He ruminated.
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Ruminated some more.
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Ruminated again.
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Ruminated, but this time in italics.
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Anakin leapt up. No longer would he stay in these Council Chambers, waiting and waiting endlessly. He would be a part of his own story. He would make his choices. He couldn't let such a pivotal movement – an age-old conflict between light and dark, good and evil – play out in the background, offscreen. He had to be there.
Whether he would choose light or dark was a question for later.
He rushed towards the Council doors, grabbed the handles, and pulled them open.
Anakin stepped forwards.
He swept through long, winding hallways, down lifts and stairs, making straight for the grand exit of the Jedi Temple.
He passed by the wide open window by Archives, and carried on through the Archive hallways. He passed by the restricted Archive access button and veered around the hangar bay. Nothing, nothing, would distract him from his goal. He was going to put a stop to this madness.
Now exiting the temple, he grabbed a speeder and shot straight for the Senate Rotunda. He dismounted in his typical graceful fashion and entered the base of the building.
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