The Maw Cluster – Outer Galactic Rim
The void here was different.
Not merely absence but pressure. A crushing presence that warped light and thought. Even hyperspace recoiled from the Maw Cluster, its gravitational fields chaotic, hyperspace lanes fractured and bleeding into black holes.
The Eclipse Voidspire, the flagship of Serion's Oblivion fleet, exited hyperspace under the protection of its null-gravity core, folding reality in reverse to resist the surrounding gravitational nightmare.
In the central chamber, Serion stood with arms crossed, his gaze fixed on an ancient holographic sphere etched with Rakatan glyphs and precursors even older.
"This is where the Ones sealed her," he murmured. "The place where the Force itself turned inward."
Behind him, his elite forces Spartans clad in voidsteel, Force adepts, even synthetic sentients watched in tense silence. They had survived the Forge Wars, hunted Jedi and Sith alike, and stared down death in every system.
But this this place was myth.
Serion raised a hand. The Seed within him pulsed violently, resisting.
"I do not serve you," he whispered.
And with a wave of his will, he silenced it once again.
"Prepare the descent. Activate the tethered graviton anchors. We're entering Abeloth's prison."
Yavin IV – Rebel Base
Across the stars, in humid jungles beneath crimson moons, the Rebellion stirred.
Jyn Erso, recently recruited by Cassian Andor, brought with her a name: Galen Erso. A weapon scientist working under duress for the Empire.
Mon Mothma, Bail Organa, and General Draven debated the next move.
"The Death Star isn't a rumor anymore," Bail said grimly. "The Empire's hiding something catastrophic."
A mission was proposed: steal the plans from an Imperial archive on Scarif.
Unknown to them, Serion's operatives—hidden within Rebel cells—passed along encrypted data of their own. He needed the Rebellion alive. For now. They were the perfect blade to bleed Palpatine while he prepared his final war.
In secret, he gifted them glimpses of the Death Star's weak points…just enough.
Exegol – The Emperor's Bastion
Palpatine watched from a throne of writhing shadows.
Construction of the Final Order accelerated. Sith engineers enslaved to arcane rituals and forced labor assembled planet-killers by the dozen.
In his sanctum, he spoke to no one—yet his voice echoed to Snoke, to future clones, and to the Sith Eternal:
"Let them steal the plans. Let them destroy the Death Star. The sacrifice is...acceptable. We evolve in destruction."
He raised a hand. A new fleet of dreadnoughts rose from the black soil.
"And in time, we will awaken the dark between galaxies."
His gaze turned outward, sensing a disturbance Serion's descent into the Maw.
"Ah… so you seek the Mother."
Inside the Maw – The Hollow Womb
Serion's ship navigated gravitational voids like a needle through a storm.
Torrents of raw Force energy lashed at the hull. Lights dimmed. AI screamed. Warriors saw visions—of burning stars, twisted timelines, of themselves unmade.
And at the heart of it all—the Prison.
A monolithic sphere of black stone floated between torn black holes, ringed by ancient anchors powered by celestial mechanics beyond even Rakatan technology.
It pulsed… alive.
"This is not a cage," Serion whispered. "It's a heartbeat."
He reached out with the Force.
And something reached back.
Coruscant – Vader's Tower
Anakin stood in shadow, watching his children meditate beneath twin red suns simulated in the chamber.
Leia rose gracefully, her thoughts controlled.
Luke burned like a forge, fire barely restrained.
"Father," Luke said suddenly, "someone's entering the Maw."
Anakin turned.
"Serion."
A long silence.
"Should we stop him?" Leia asked.
"No," Anakin said. "We must see what truth he awakens. And prepare to take it from him."