I find myself lying on my back, the ground cold and unyielding beneath me. Looking up, a red-skinned face comes into focus—sharp features, eyes burning with malice. It’s the Sith who’s been pursuing us, his expression twisted with anger. He looms over me, holding a crimson lightsaber poised above my chest.

“It didn’t have to be like this,” the Sith says, his voice dripping with condescension.

My lips move, and I hear my own voice, though I don’t know where the words come from. “You’re mistaken. It always did.”

He ignites the blade, and pain lances through my chest. I scream, the agony so intense that it sears every nerve. Darkness rushes in, swallowing everything. My senses fade, one by one...

“Gah!” I shout, jerking awake and tumbling out of my bed. I clutch at my chest, my heart pounding wildly, but find myself unharmed. I breathe hard, my mind reeling. What was that?!

“A vision of what’s to come,” the voice of the Murakami Orchid echoes in my mind.

Panting, I struggle to steady my breath. “Why did it feel so real?”

“Visions can come through all perspectives, including your own. You didn’t think the only sense that could have a vision was sight, did you?” the flower mocks.

“All I know about visions is myth... until now,” I mutter, wiping sweat from my brow.

“Roan!” Teya’s voice rings out as she bursts into the room, her eyes wide with concern.

“I’m fine, it was just a bad dream,” I lie, trying to keep the worry from my voice.

She frowns, clearly unconvinced. “I’ve never seen you react to a nightmare like that before.”

I offer a weak smile. “A lot has happened recently. Maybe it’s all catching up with me.”

Teya cups her chin thoughtfully, considering my words. “I guess that’s true...”

Before she can say more, Retra rushes into the room, her lightsaber ignited, scanning for danger. But she’s clearly unprepared for the scene she’s stumbled into—she’s completely topless, wearing only a white bikini brief. The contrast between her grey skin and the stark white of the fabric is striking.

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“Where’s the danger?!” she shouts, her stance ready for battle.

Teya’s green face instantly flushes to a deep shade of purple. “COVER YOURSELF, RETRA!” she yells, turning away in embarrassment.

Realizing there’s no immediate threat, Retra straightens up, her lips curling into a teasing smile. “Why? Don’t you know that the person who complains about something like this usually likes it the most?”

Teya covers her face with her hands, her voice muffled by mortification. “Why are you naked to begin with?”

“This is how I sleep. Are you saying I have to be fully dressed for bed?” Retra replies, her smirk widening.

“Well... no, but... couldn’t you wear something more substantial?” Teya stammers, her eyes firmly averted.

Retra shrugs casually, glancing at Teya’s back. “Chafing.”

“I hate to interrupt whatever this is,” I interject, my tone dry, “but could you both take it elsewhere? I need to meditate.”

Retra’s eyes gleam with mischief as she turns to me. “What, you don’t like having two scantily clad girls in your room? Are you trying to tell us something?”

Teya, realizing that she too is only wearing minimal clothing, suddenly looks panicked. “I’m going to go change!” she yelps, bolting from the room.

An awkward silence settles over the room as Retra and I lock eyes. I force myself to keep my gaze steady, making it clear that I’m not looking anywhere else. She clicks her tongue, clearly disappointed. “Che!”

“You’re no fun,” she pouts, striding out the door with a dramatic flip of her hair.

As soon as she’s gone, the flower’s voice echoes in my mind, its tone curious. “Why did you use the Force to suppress your... more base impulses just now?”

“Retra might want me to make a move, but if I do, Teya will be upset. I might even end up as her enemy for choosing a lover from the dark side,” I reply, my voice low and serious.

The Orchid’s tone shifts, becoming more somber. “I doubt that. But the girl should stop using that dangerous technique.”

“What technique?” I ask, frowning.

“The one she used to suppress her emotions when she saw the naked girl. It’s taught by Jedi Orders as a shortcut to control emotions—a shortcut instead of teaching a child how to properly process their feelings. It doesn’t lead to true control; it leads to emotions controlling them, once they encounter something too great to suppress,” the Orchid explains.

I feel a chill run down my spine. “I was a Padawan once. Why wasn’t I taught this, or even heard of it?”

A sense of contemplation flows through our bond. “Have you met yourself? You’re naturally rational, already adept at managing your emotions.”

“So I wasn’t taught it because I didn’t need it... but does that mean Teya is prone to emotional outbursts?”

The Orchid sends an image of a child crying in a crowded place. “All children are prone to outbursts. But once they learn this technique, they rarely stop using it—until it’s too late. Why do you think so many Jedi fall to the dark side?”

The Murakami Orchid’s words stir a deep sense of foreboding within me. The thought of Teya continuing to rely on such a technique fills me with dread. If she keeps using it, she could lose control... she could become someone I don’t recognize.

A new resolve hardens within me and the weight of my vision lingers in the back of my mind, a constant reminder of the dangers ahead. But whatever path we’re on, I’ll face it alongside them both, as long as I can.