Deathless
He could feel it.
He could feel it coursing through his body.
Screaming at him.
Years of torment, years of pain, years of suffering.
It all lead to this.
Shattering.
Electricity arced throughout his body, slamming into the ground around him. He had made it to Jedha. He had crashed, nearly, a ship trying to get back to the temple. But he was miles away now. And he couldn't hold it in any longer. He had kept it inside of him for years, suppressing what came naturally. Electricity- hate, anger, loss, manifesting itself in the force slammed into the ground. It was painful, in a way.
He screamed, trying to control it.
More of it coursed around his body, and he lashed out, scouring the ground around him with wide arcs of uncontrolled anger. He grit his teeth, looking to the sky, eyes alight with the raw power of the uncontrolled and untamed force- no tempering by training or by hope. Years of it all- a battered, beaten man.
A slave.
A fighter.
A gladiator.
A son.
An abandoned son.
An orphan.
A pariah.
Survivor.
Jedi?
He tried, he tried so hard- and failed. It was so easy, to let the anger get him. To let it resurface. He knew how he survived all those years in the red tower, now. The Force guided him. It was guiding him now, even. He fell to his knees, electricity arcing every so often from him. It tired him greatly, but he couldn't stop.
So he cried out, echoing in the force. Pain, rage, anger, suffering- a cry for help. For relief.