Anakin but also not?!

Anakin sat cross-legged on the smooth floor of his private meditation chamber, eyes closed, his breathing slow and measured. The Force swirled around him, alive and vibrant, as if singing a song only he could hear. Nearby, Padmé knelt, her own posture imitating his, though her eyes were open, observing him with amused curiosity.

"Are you supposed to be this still?" she asked teasingly. "You're always pacing and brooding when you're awake."

Anakin cracked an eye open and smirked. "Meditation isn't just for the Jedi Code, you know. It's useful for clearing the mind, aligning with the Force… and apparently entertaining my wife."

Padmé giggled softly, leaning closer. "If you'd told me this was a spectator sport, I would've joined you sooner."

Before Anakin could reply, a subtle shift in the air stilled him. His smirk faded, replaced by an intense focus. The Force was calling him, not gently but insistently, like a whisper demanding attention. His brows furrowed as he reached out, searching for the source.

"Anakin?" Padmé asked, her tone shifting to concern.

He opened his eyes, his expression serious. "The Force is calling me. I have to go."

Padmé frowned but nodded. "Something dangerous?"

"Not dangerous," Anakin replied, though even he wasn't sure. "Important."

She stood, placing a hand on his shoulder. "The galaxy will wait, but if it takes too long, we'll be ready. I'll watch over the Empire, and if you're gone for a while… I know what to do."

Her confidence and unwavering belief in him filled him with warmth. Anakin rose to his feet, pulling her into a tight embrace. Their kiss deepened, and what began as a tender moment soon turned into something far more passionate. Later, after showering and dressing in his dark robes, Anakin left with renewed resolve and a lingering smile.

The hyperspace journey was short, yet the sense of anticipation grew with every passing moment. Anakin exited his ship onto a barren, surreal plane, the air thick with the Force. He had expected to see the celestial grandeur of Mortis as it was described in his fragmented memories of another life. Instead, the sight that greeted him was eerie—devoid of the vibrant, conflicting energies of the Ones.

Ahead, the lifeless forms of the Daughter, the Son, and the Father lay in an unnatural stillness. Even in death, their presence was palpable, rippling through the Force like faint echoes of a symphony long ended. Anakin approached cautiously, the weight of their legacy pressing against him.

"So, this is it," he muttered to himself. "The realm of gods. And they're all dead."

He knelt by the Daughter first, her serene form radiating faint traces of light. Placing a hand on her, Anakin closed his eyes and let the Force guide him. Her essence flowed into him like a warm tide, but the balance within him tilted drastically. He felt the light within him swell, nearly overwhelming, until he turned to the Son.

The dark figure's visage was twisted in a permanent snarl, but Anakin didn't hesitate. He reached out and drew in the Son's essence. A rush of cold followed, but rather than clash with the Daughter's presence, the two forces balanced within him, merging into a profound equilibrium.

Finally, Anakin turned to the Father. The weight of the celestial patriarch's power was immense, but Anakin reached out, absorbing his essence as well. A wave of life surged through Mortis, as though the realm itself responded to the renewal of balance within him. The once-dead landscape began to flourish, colors returning to the skies and flora bursting to life around him.

Anakin felt the pull of the Force intensify as the Font of Power materialized before him. A massive, ancient structure brimming with a dark, tantalizing energy, it seemed to beckon him forward.

"Abeloth drank only a few sips," he murmured, a grin creeping across his face. "Let's see how far I can go."

He approached the font, dipping his hands into its swirling liquid and drinking deeply. A surge of raw power coursed through him, threatening to overwhelm his senses, but Anakin held firm, channeling it into balance within himself.

Next, the Pool of Knowledge shimmered into view, its waters glowing with an ethereal light. Without hesitation, Anakin stepped into it, letting the liquid envelop him. Visions of the past, present, and future flooded his mind. He saw countless possibilities, alternate paths, and the intricate tapestry of the Force.

Laughing softly, he scooped handfuls of the water and drank, his awareness expanding further. The combined might of the Font and the Pool resonated within him, transforming him in ways he couldn't yet fully comprehend.

Anakin stayed on Mortis for what felt like an eternity, but time had little meaning in this realm. He meditated, practiced, and adjusted to the immense power now coursing through him. The Force itself seemed to hum in harmony with his presence, balanced and whole.

When he finally emerged, stepping back onto his ship, he felt like a new man. The galaxy stretched out before him, teeming with life and endless possibilities.

"For the first time," he said to himself, smiling, "I feel ready."

As the ship ascended from Mortis, Anakin's resolve solidified. He was no longer just a Jedi, a Sith, or even a Chosen One. He was something more—something the galaxy had never seen before.