By the eleventh loop, Eli Kaen no longer feared death.
What haunted him now was failure.
Every time he reset, he remembered more — more pain, more faces he couldn't save, more warning signs he hadn't understood until it was too late. Training his body had helped. He was stronger, sharper, more decisive.
But strength wasn't enough.
He had to understand.
And that meant answers the Masters wouldn't give.
It was late when Eli slipped out of his dorm, barefoot, robe tucked tightly against his body. The Temple was hushed, alive only with the distant murmurs of wind against stone and the soft whir of droids maintaining the gardens.
No one noticed a youngling on the move — not this late.
No one questioned those who knew where to walk, and how to stay in shadow.
He reached the outer ring of the Temple's upper spire — the restricted archive vault. It was rarely spoken of in lessons, and never used in day-to-day study. Only Masters had access.
But Eli had found an entry point two loops ago.
A ventilation shaft behind the Hall of Contemplation.
He slipped into the gap, wedged himself through its narrow curve, and emerged into the dim, echoing space of the Vault of the Unspoken.
The room was round, ancient, and silent — not like the bright, holo-lined halls of the main Archives. This one pulsed with age. Its walls bore etchings in High Galactic and even older tongues. Dozens of holocrons floated in magnetic stasis around a central pedestal.
He stepped carefully.
One holocron sparked as he neared, emitting a soft hum. Then another. Their crystals shimmered in response to his presence, glowing faintly — almost like they were listening.
"Eli Kaen," a voice said from behind him.
He froze.
His heart jumped.
Slowly, he turned.
A figure stepped from the shadows — not a Jedi, not a clone.
A droid.
Thin, ancient, and draped in ceremonial red and gold. Its photoreceptors blinked slowly.
"You should not be here," it said, voice calm, but firm.
"I had to come," Eli said. "I'm looking for something. Something about the future. Or the past."
The droid tilted its head. "You seek prophecy."
Eli's pulse quickened. "Yes. How did you know?"
"Because all those who enter this place seeking what you seek… do not ask about the present."
The droid hovered toward the central pedestal, gesturing for him to follow. "I am T-9K. Archivist of Forbidden Lore. Guardian of the Inner Vault."
"Then why are you showing me this?"
T-9K's photoreceptors dimmed. "Because you are already unmoored from the natural flow of time."
Eli flinched. "You… know?"
"I do not understand how. Only that you are not as fixed as you appear. Your presence leaves echoes."
He felt cold all of a sudden.
"I need to stop something terrible," Eli whispered. "The Temple — it's going to fall. We'll all be slaughtered. I've seen it. I've lived it. And I think… I think I'm supposed to do something about it."
The droid said nothing for a long moment.
Then it reached into a side compartment and withdrew a data key — crystal-bound, jagged at the edges. Ancient.
"Insert this into the pedestal."
Eli did.
The pedestal's surface rippled like water. Holograms rose — not of battles or Jedi, but stars.
Then fractures.
Then a figure shrouded in both light and shadow.
A voice echoed — deep, uncertain.
"A shadow rises beneath the Order's roots. One who walks both paths — chosen not by prophecy, but by paradox."
"He will stand at the gates of ruin, carrying lives not his own."
"And should he awaken too soon, the galaxy will burn brighter… and faster."
The image shuddered. Fragmented.
Eli stepped back, heart pounding. "Who is that? Who—"
Before he could finish, a klaxon blared through the Vault.
Security alert.
"Run," T-9K said calmly.
"What?"
"They will not believe what you saw. The Council cannot know this vault has been breached."
"But why?!"
"Because they sealed this prophecy themselves."
Eli's breath caught. "The Jedi hid this?"
The droid nodded once. "To protect the Order. And perhaps, in doing so, doomed it."
Heavy footsteps echoed in the corridor above.
Clone security. Or temple guards.
Eli turned and bolted toward the maintenance shaft, heart pounding in his chest.
Behind him, T-9K's voice echoed softly: "Remember this, Kaen. The Force does not bind you as it binds others. That is your curse — and your weapon."
He made it back to the dorms just as the first rays of morning light crept into the sky.
Niyala stirred in her bunk, but didn't wake. Tavi snored softly, turned to the wall.
Eli lay down on his mat, eyes wide.
He'd found a prophecy sealed by the Jedi themselves.
He was living it.
And someone — or something — had started all of this long before the clones set foot in the Temple.
What am I?
He didn't sleep that morning.
He had too much to think about.