Location: Tython – Chamber of Echoes
Date: 24 BBY
The Chamber of Echoes sat beneath the first sanctuary stone carved by the early Jedi settlers on Tython. Inside, sound carried in strange ways. You didn't just hear your voice—you heard your truth.
Three crystal pools lay in perfect silence. The Force shimmered in the air like heat on metal. Here, the Trial of Spirit would unfold—not through confrontation, but internal crucible.
Cain, Anakin, and Seris knelt at their pools. No Masters guided them. No observers watched. The Force was their only witness.
And it pulled them inward.
Cain walked through a garden of ash. The ground was scorched. The sky—a hollow void. Before him stood… himself.
But not as he was now.
This Cain wore black and white robes woven with gold. His eyes glowed pure gold, his voice echoed even when silent. Lightsabers hovered around him like orbiting moons, and behind him floated shattered relics of Jedi and Sith alike.
"Who are you?" Cain asked.
The other Cain smiled.
"I am what you become if you try to fix everything alone."
Cain narrowed his eyes. "You wear peace like armor… but your hands drip with control."
"I brought order," the figure said. "No war. No Sith. No Jedi infighting. Just unity. Peace… enforced."
Cain saw visions—planets obeying, systems united, but freedom shattered.
"You rule," Cain said, horrified, "but no one trusts you."
The other Cain stepped closer. "Do you think love alone can change a galaxy? You will see what I saw: order is not built on hope—it's maintained by fear."
Cain clenched his fists.
"No," he whispered.
The other Cain smirked. "You're too soft."
Cain took a breath.
"I'd rather be soft and earn their hearts, than hard and rule their necks."
The gold light around him surged—not with dominance, but with warmth.
The false Cain dissolved into light.
And Cain stood alone—heart steady.
Anakin stood in a burning Jedi Temple. The sky wept fire.
His saber was red.
At his feet lay fallen Jedi—younglings, masters… friends.
He turned and saw himself—armored in black, mask breathing heavily.
Darth Vader.
"You know who I am," the figure said.
Anakin stepped back. "No…"
"You dreamed of power. You hated being looked down on. You feared being nothing. And you loved so much… you couldn't let go."
"I didn't mean—"
"You will," Vader said. "You'll kneel. You'll serve. You'll kill."
"No!" Anakin shouted. "I'm not you!"
Vader drew his saber. "Prove it."
They clashed—red against purple.
But every strike Anakin made, Vader anticipated. Every dodge—perfectly mirrored.
"You can't beat me," Vader snarled. "Because I am you."
Anakin dropped to one knee, exhausted. "I'm not you," he gasped.
"Then who are you?"
Anakin stood—trembling, but proud.
"I'm Anakin Skywalker. Son of a slave. Student of Qui-Gon. Brother to Cain. And free to choose."
Vader swung one last time—
—and shattered like glass.
Anakin opened his eyes, tears falling silently.
Seris stood in a hall of mirrors, all showing her crowned and armored, adored by thousands. Jedi, Nightsisters, Mandalorians—kneeling. Cain stood at her side, hand in hers.
"You brought balance," a voice echoed. "You saved them all. You were right."
A golden saber lay before her—twice the length of a normal blade. Its power pulsed with promise.
Seris reached for it.
Cain's voice echoed behind her.
"Power doesn't make you right."
She turned—and saw herself, clad in imperial white robes, eyes shimmering silver.
"They need you," the other Seris said. "They want to follow you. No more doubt. No more waiting."
"They'll follow me because I love them," Seris said.
"Then lead them," her reflection said. "Claim the crown. Take Cain's heart. Make the galaxy better—your way."
Seris hesitated.
Then stepped back.
"I don't need a crown. I don't want their obedience. I want to inspire them to choose a better way—with me, not beneath me."
Her reflection cracked, then vanished.
She walked away from the sword.
Reawakening
The vision faded.
All three emerged—staggered, sweating, eyes wide, but whole.
Fay and Plo stood waiting—silent, watchful.
Cain walked to his friends and stood with them, shoulder to shoulder.
"Done," Anakin whispered. "I saw him. Vader. I… I said no."
"I walked away from power," Seris said. "I chose to serve, not rule."
Cain looked at them both, eyes steady.
"I saw what I could become if I let go of empathy. And I refused."
The wind stirred gently through the open chamber doors.
Plo Koon stepped forward.
"You have passed the Trial of Spirit. The Force itself has witnessed your hearts—and did not turn away."
Fay smiled, soft but proud.
"You are stronger not because you faced darkness… but because you chose not to become it."
Codex Entry 033 – The Self I Might Be
The greatest enemy is not hatred, or power, or fear.
It is the version of ourselves we fear we could become.
Today, we met them.
And walked away unbroken.