The corridors narrowed as Ace moved deeper beneath the observatory, old stone pressing close enough in places to make the ruins feel unearthed rather than built. Somewhere far overhead ancient mechanisms groaned through the rock in slow, arthritic motion. After Sibylla's departure, he expected the silence to return.
It didn't. Another set of footsteps had begun keeping pace with his own, measured and unhurried, so natural in rhythm he noticed them before he admitted to himself they were there.
He kept walking a few moments before muttering, almost to himself.
"Persistent."
Beside him came a familiar sound, little more than breath through the nose.
"Hmph."
Ace turned and found
Lorn Reingard
at his shoulder as though he had always been there, expression carrying that unreadable stillness he knew too well. There was no grand reveal to it, no theatrics from the Force. Somehow that made it more unsettling.
"This place likes to recycle people." Ace said dryly, looking ahead again.
"So do memory and consequence." Lorn replied.
They walked for a time without speaking. It might have felt almost ordinary, if not for the weight moving with them in the dark. Then Lorn said, almost absently.
"You've become difficult to sense."
Ace glanced toward him.
"What does that mean?"
Lorn's gaze stayed forward.
"It means parts of you are going dark."
Ace let out a faint breath that might have been amusement.
"That supposed to worry me?"
"No." Lorn said.
"It worries me."
The answer lingered longer than Ace liked. As they turned down another passage, Lorn continued in that same plain tone, as if simply noting something observed.
"I used to feel conflict in you. Now I mostly feel decision."
Ace's expression tightened.
"I know what I'm doing."
"That isn't what troubles me." Lorn said.
"You call emptiness discipline. You call compromise strategy. You call distance clarity. Names don't change what things are."
There was no accusation in it. That made it harder to push aside.
"Still taking inventory." Ace muttered.
"Observation."
A few more steps passed before Lorn spoke again.
"I keep seeing you in places you haven't gone yet."
That pulled Ace's attention back.
"What?"
Lorn was quiet long enough that it felt deliberate.
"I don't know. That's what worries me. There are futures where I can't reach you."
Ace frowned.
"Jedi mysticism at its finest."
Lorn ignored the jab.
"You think your danger is becoming a monster. It isn't. Your danger is becoming convinced you're necessary."
That one hit. Ace felt it and immediately resented that he did.
"Someone has to do it."
Lorn looked at him then, not sternly, not with judgment, but with something heavier.
"I'm not here to ask you to stop. I'm here because part of you already knows where this ends."
Silence stretched between them. Then, quieter still...
"I'm not warning you. I'm grieving ahead of time."
Ace stopped walking. Lorn took two more steps before stopping as well. For a long moment neither moved, then Ace looked away first.
"When the future you are trying not to see arrives." Lorn said, calm as ever.
"Remember you weren't unwarned."
Ace turned... and the corridor was empty. No Lorn. No second set of footsteps. Only dust moving in stale air, and for a long while Ace stood listening, uncertain when he had stopped hearing anything but himself.