Arriving 11th November, Master of Evil arrives from author Adam Christopher, diving deep into the psyche of Anakin Skywalker, now enveloped in the armour of Darth Vader. Here in the latest excerpt we see Vader construct his red bladed lightsaber and ignite it for the first time as memories of the past flood through his mind.
On the surface of Mustafar, Vader pours his hatred into a kyber crystal, bleeding the gem to create his signature red blade.
The dark side is strong here, a current that sweeps around the apprentice, urging him, propelling him. Guiding him, a light that shines on the true path. In front of him, the altar stone is dark, but the shadow it casts behind it is too long, is too deep, is darker still, a voidlike absence, a darkness that seems to move, the power stirring, the power waiting, but not watching.
Yes, this is the place.
The lightsaber of Kirak Infil’a is a simple thing, almost childishly so as all lightsabers are, nothing but a mess of electronics inside a hilt. Yet it is not the mechanism that matters but what that mechanism holds. The true heart of the weapon, the thing that gives it life.
The kyber crystal.
The apprentice dismantles the hilt almost by instinct and slips the crystal from within. The shard is pale green and small enough to hold between his finger and thumb, which the apprentice does, gazing at it until a green light flares in his red-tinged optics.
Almost like the crystal knows.
Then he sets it down on the black altar stone, keeping his distance, guiding the crystal home with the Force.
But the crystal will not stay. Even as he reaches out in concentration, the crystal rises to hover over the altar, almost like it is fighting back.#
With a final effort, the apprentice focuses his will on the thing, but the crystal merely takes that power and pushes it back at him. With a sizzle of unknown energy, the apprentice finds himself thrown across the cave, smashing into the rune-etched wall. His mask is damaged in the fall, one red-tinged eyepiece popped from the frame. With one wide, naked eye, he stares at the crystal.
“What . . . what have I done?”
He reassembles the lightsaber. He leaves, but . . . time moves in a blur, his actions guided not by the dark but by something else . . .
He sees his master. He sees a flash of green, the blade of lies, the blade of a Jedi.
Ah, so you have made your decision?
He sees a flash of red, the blade of truth, the blade of the Sith.
So be it, my friend. You have chosen weakness.
He sees his master fall.
Then he sees a planet, not the lava fields of Mustafar, not the cityscape of Coruscant, but fields of green, moons of blue dancing in the sky.
He sees a man sitting. A man he knew, once, a long time ago, but when he approaches, the Jedi’s blue blade is already alive and ready to strike.
“No.”
In the cave on Mustafar, the apprentice reaches out.
“I refuse.”
