“No” whispered Charaan, “you...”-“You have no power to keep me old man.” The voice reverberated once more, the air shifting, cold, dark and full of fear. The Jedi watched as his brother glowered at his father. “You must realize by now this planet is not my destiny!” “What you will do will destroy all that is good,” the Father pleaded, “I beg you. Restrain yourself. And stay!” Charaan quivered his body wedged in between the rocks, shivering. His eyes cold, staring at the gruesome scene. “I cannot,” whispered his brother. “And then, it shall be, I love you my son,” whimpered the Father. His brother scowled. “Do you?”'' There it came again. The familiar hum, the flash of blue light. A lightsaber, aimed at his brothers heart. The young jedi struck. He slashed wildly with his lightsaber. But the son was to quick. He blocked the blade with his wrist, and knocked the lightsaber from the Jedi’s Hand. Charaan’s heart was racing, pounding in the veins in his neck. The faint energies of the force trickling through him. His brother grabbed the Jedi’s throat, and the other two lightsabers ignited. One green, one blue. The two other jedi raced in. The son through the young Jedi over his shoulder. The others charged. The son pulled their sabers. He struck out with his hand, releasing a massive energy surge. The jedi flew backward and landed ten metres back. Charaan flinched, and tried not to be seen. “Why can’t I be strong? Why am I weak?” he whimpered to himself. Then suddenly he saw his father pull the familiar metal dagger from his son’s belt. “What,” laughed his brother, “You’re going to kill me now?” “I held hope you could resist the dark side,” spoke the Father, “But I see now, there is no going back.” The old man put the dagger to his chest. The son stared. And the father, plunged the dagger through his heart. Charaan felt a spark of power go through his heart. Mixed and powerful emotions cursed like poisonous rivers of blood through his veins. But he could not notice them, for now, he felt something else. Power. Unlimited inconceivable power charged his body. His eyes lit up a stony blue. He stood up from his hiding place. His held his father. Whined and whimpered like a child. The Jedi came too. From behind, and drove his saber through the son’s back. At that moment, his brother saw him. His eyes lit up one last time. A final hatred for his younger brother. The destructive energies. And then he died. And Charaan’s vision blurred. He saw it again. The older brother, laughing, tossing the jedi. The father dying. The jedi advancing, stabbing his brother in the back. The loathing eyes lit up again. Charaan saw everything. Pictured of his brother, his father, his sister, the jedi. The hatred in the eyes of his brother, the eyes of that pathetic little jedi, the Father in pain...
Charaan jerked awake. But all he could feel now were his own heart pounding mindlessly inside his body. He clenched his fist. And drove them away. Those horrid, horrid memories were the worst he had ever known, but also the best. He wanted to know nothing now. He wanted no knowledge of his past on Mortis. That was history now. Here, in the core of the Multiverse, there was no meaning in feeling like that. He had been weak, yes. A coward in many eyes. His father knew what he had done, and he had done it. He had killed his own mother, but that was right. Like his brother, his mother had followed the dark side. Sorcery. Evil. Or was it wrong to kill somebody who had murdered so many living being across that galaxy, far, far away. That tiny spark in an endless universe. A speck of dust. A grain of sand on tatooine, an atom inside a star. But before coming here, that bright spiral had meant everything to him. He destroyed his mother before she tore the fabric of the universe. But the father had not been so rational. The reason why he was here now, was that the father had never believed him. He had taken all his force power, and was going to keep him locked up. But he, Charaan, was to smart. He had escaped in his Gargoyle form. His older brother and sister had been sent after him, but never found him. He had hidden. Powerless and miserable. Yet he had sworn that he would serve the light side and the people of the galaxy should he ever regain his strength. He sympathised with the people in the galaxy. Until they invaded mortis. Then his attitude changed. Thanks to them, his father, brother and sister were dead. And although he felt no sympathy for the people who had shut him out of his own family, he still hated the Jedi. The republic. In fact, he hated every speck of dust in that evil universe. That corrupted place.
When the father had stabbed himself, Charaan’s brother was left defenceless. Charaan himself, however, took it all as advantage. In a fraction of a second, he gained the total power of his whole family. His naive father. Evil mother, brother. Selfless sister. And then, he had slipped out. Gone deep into the mortis nebula. He dug hole in the fabric of space. A black hole, a dimensional gate. Then he had slipped out of the universe, and into this place. For here, he could play the Multiverse how he chose, pulling the strings of all those tiny balls of light, those little universes in the big bubble. It was fascinating to play universe.
Charaan rose from the sarcophagus he slept in. And someday, he would eventually find out again, find that universe where he had come from. Find the bubble in his collection; find the door leading to it. And then, he would take it, and grind it beneath his heel. Charaan smirked. At last, he was truly the master of the universe. For he had learned the true meaning of power.