Death had come quietly.
One moment, Aaron Bennett lay in a hospital bed surrounded by the steady hum of machines and the faint scent of antiseptic.
The next, everything was gone. No pain. No weight. No time. He opened his eyes—or rather, he became aware—and found himself floating in a space without stars.
It wasn't cold. It wasn't warm either. It was... nothing. Just the awareness of being, stretching out into eternity.
"So this is what comes next?" he muttered aloud, or thought he did. "Doesn't look like pearly gates."
A soft laughter answered him. Not mocking, not cruel—just amused.
"You're not far off. Though I'd say pearly gates are a bit outdated."
The presence was overwhelming, not because it loomed large, but because it felt complete. It didn't feel like a person. It felt like everything.
"Am I dead?"
"Yes. Your old life is done. Peacefully. That was the reward, Aaron."
"Reward?" he echoed.
"You lived with compassion. You searched for truth. You tried to be kind, even when the world wasn't. Few people can say the same. You don't remember every act of grace, but I do."
The presence pulsed with something like pride. Aaron had no words.
"So... what now?"
"That is the question, isn't it? Most souls rest. Some choose to return. Fewer still are offered a choice."
A pulse of light surrounded him. For the first time, Aaron felt shape—his awareness forming a vague sense of body. Not physical, but spiritual.
"You may begin again. With your memories intact. Your wisdom. Your self."
"Anywhere?" he asked.
"Anywhere. Any world. Any time. A story of your choosing."
Aaron didn't need long to decide. He smiled.
"I want to go to Star Wars."
Silence followed. Not rejection—more like contemplation.
"Interesting," the presence said slowly. "You seek challenge, then."
"Always loved the Force. The philosophy. The people. Even the tragedy of it all. It felt... real. More real than the real world sometimes."
"Very well."
The void rumbled as unseen forces shifted.
"You shall be reborn into that galaxy. As a five-year-old human male. A Jedi youngling. Six months before the purge."
Aaron's soul trembled. "Order 66... That means I'll—"
"You may die. Or not. That is for you to decide. But you will not be helpless."
The void swirled now, stars blooming in the blackness. A torrent of energy poured toward him.
"To honor your lifelong hunger to learn, you will be gifted a blessing: The Mastery Multiplier."
"Mastery Multiplier?"
"Whatever you train—be it blade, mind, Force, or tongue—you shall learn ten times faster than any other. One hour for you shall be ten for another. A year of growth in mere months."
Aaron gasped as light seared into his soul. Knowledge. Potential. The future. All cascading down upon him.
"Be warned," the presence said, voice grave now. "This power makes you capable, not immortal. You will still bleed. You will still suffer. Attachment, fear, love, loss—all remain. If anything, you will feel them more sharply."
"I understand," Aaron whispered.
"Do you? Power isolates. Especially when you wear it from childhood."
"I'll try. That's all I can promise."
The presence softened.
"That's all I ask."
Aaron felt himself falling now—no, descending. Pulled through dimensions, time, space. Through galaxies. Toward a distant world of sand and stone, of sabers and stars. He could hear echoes—laughing younglings, humming kyber crystals, and the distant scream of a clone blaster.
"Remember who you are," the voice said gently. "And may the Force be with you."
Then—
A blinding flash.