The air was thick with filth. Adam could barely breathe as he walked through the dimly lit streets of Coruscant's lower levels. The deeper he went, the worse it got. The neon lights flickered like dying embers, casting eerie shadows against the walls of rusted metal and crumbling duracrete. The scent of rot, spilled fuel, and something worse clung to the air. This wasn't Piltover, and it sure as hell wasn't Zaun.
Where am I?
The thought rattled around in his head like an echo in an empty room. He had no answers. No clue how he got here. He was just… here. One moment, he was nowhere, and the next, he was walking through this nightmare of a city.
The worst part? He recognized this place.
Coruscant. The heart of the Republic. But not the part the senators and Jedi lived in. No, this was the underworld—where the forgotten, the criminals, and the damned rotted away.
Adam shivered. Not from the cold, but from the sheer wrongness of all of this. He loved Star Wars, sure, but he wasn't prepared to live in it. He wasn't some chosen one, some hero with a destiny. He was just a kid. A kid who was very much alone.
His stomach twisted in hunger, and his body ached with exhaustion. His clothes were the same ones he had on before everything changed—simple, worn, and offering little protection from the biting air. He needed to rest, to think, but the city wouldn't allow it.
That was when he heard the footsteps.
They were subtle at first, blending with the ambient noise of distant speeders and murmured conversations. But then they got closer. Heavy boots on metal. More than one.
Adam tensed.
He wasn't stupid. He knew the moment he stepped into this place that it wasn't safe. But there was nowhere else to go. He quickened his pace, hoping to shake them. The alleys were a maze, twisted and dark, and he wasn't sure where he was going.
Then he turned a corner and saw the dead end.
Shit.
Before he could turn back, they were on him.
Six men. All bigger than him. All meaner.
One of them, a Rodian with a scar running down his face, grinned. "Looks like we got ourselves a lost little womp rat."
Adam swallowed hard. His heart pounded against his ribs.
"Empty your pockets," another one, a human, demanded.
Adam clenched his fists. He didn't have anything on him, nothing worth taking. But that didn't matter to them. They weren't here for credits. They were here for fun.
He took a step back, but the wall pressed against his spine.
Nowhere to run.
A fist slammed into his stomach. Pain exploded through his body, and he crumpled forward, gasping.
Then another hit. And another.
He fell to the ground, curling in on himself as they rained blows on him. His ribs screamed, his vision blurred, and the sound of their laughter mixed with the ringing in his ears.
It hurt. It hurt so much.
I'm going to die.
No. No, he wouldn't.
Something burned inside him.
A deep, seething rage.
Why was he here? Why was this happening to him? Why couldn't he fight back?
His fingers dug into the filth-covered ground. His body trembled—not from pain, but from something else entirely.
The air around him grew heavy.
The laughter stopped.
"W-What the hell—"
Adam's eyes snapped open.
They burned.
His vision was tinted red.
His body moved on instinct. He threw his hand up—just like in the movies, like the Sith always did.
And the men rose.
All six of them, lifted into the air as if an invisible hand had seized them by the throat. Their eyes bulged. Their mouths opened, gasping for air. They clawed at their necks, kicking and jerking as they dangled like puppets with cut strings.
Adam was breathing hard now, his body shaking. He felt them. Their panic. Their fear. It fed the fire inside him, stoked it higher and higher until all he wanted was—
He clenched his fist.
Their bodies convulsed.
Then—
Silence.
One by one, they dropped to the ground. Motionless.
Adam stared at them. His breath came in ragged gasps. His hands trembled.
He had just…
Killed them.
A wave of exhaustion crashed over him. His knees buckled, and he collapsed beside their corpses, darkness creeping into the edges of his vision.
The last thing he saw before unconsciousness took him was a figure stepping from the shadows.
A cloaked figure.
A smile.
And glowing yellow eyes.
—
When Adam woke, his body ached, and his mind was a storm of confusion and fear. He wasn't in the alley anymore. He was lying on cold, polished metal, the air filled with the scent of incense and something else—something old, something decayed.
He sat up, his heart racing.
And then he saw him.
Standing at the edge of the dimly lit chamber was a man.
A man Adam knew.
Darth Sidious.
Palpatine.
The Sith Lord himself.
His hood was drawn, casting deep shadows over his wrinkled face, but his piercing eyes gleamed in the dim light. He studied Adam, his expression unreadable.
Adam's mouth went dry.
"You are awake," Sidious said, his voice smooth, almost welcoming.
Adam didn't respond.
He couldn't.
Sidious took a slow step forward. "You have great power."
Adam swallowed.
"I…" His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to—"
Sidious chuckled. "Oh, but you did."
The Sith Lord crouched slightly, bringing himself eye-level with Adam. His smile was thin, knowing.
"I have been watching you," he said. "Such raw talent… untamed… unfocused. But with proper guidance…" His fingers twitched slightly, as if imagining molding clay.
Adam's body tensed.
This was wrong. This was all wrong.
Sidious wasn't supposed to be here. Not like this. Not yet.
Then it hit him.
The timeline.
Was this after Maul's death?. After Plagueis?. After everything had already been set in motion.
Was he in that moment.
The moment Palpatine was building his new apprentice.
And he was staring right at him.
"You are afraid," Sidious noted, tilting his head. "Good."
Adam clenched his fists.
The Sith Lord studied him for a long moment, then offered a smile that sent ice down Adam's spine.
"You have a choice," Sidious said. "You can run, hide, pretend that what happened tonight was an accident… but deep down, you know the truth."
He leaned closer.
"You felt it, didn't you? The power. The freedom."
Adam's breath hitched.
Sidious smiled.
"Do not fear your nature," he whispered. "Embrace it."
Adam didn't know what to say.
Didn't know what to do.
All he knew was that his life, his very existence, had just taken a turn he could never come back from.
Darkness.
Adam lay on a cold metal slab, staring at the ceiling. He didn't know how long he had been here. Hours? Days? The concept of time felt meaningless in this place.
The room was dimly lit by flickering yellow lamps embedded in the walls. The air was thick with incense, carrying a scent that made his skin crawl. This place—wherever *here* was—felt ancient, oppressive.
And yet, it was quiet.
His mind wasn't.
He kept seeing their faces. The men in the alley. The way they clawed at their throats, their eyes bulging, their bodies twitching before going limp. The feeling of their fear as it bled into him, feeding the fire inside his chest.
He shivered.
He didn't mean to kill them.
Did he?
His fingers curled into the fabric of his tattered clothes. The weight of what had happened pressed down on his chest like a stone, making it hard to breathe.
Was he a murderer now?
Sidious had called it power. *Freedom.*
Adam shut his eyes.
He thought about home. About his family. Did they miss him? Did they even notice he was gone? Were they searching for him?
His gut twisted.
Probably not.
He was the youngest—one of nine. Four brothers. Four sisters. A house full of people, yet he had always felt alone.
His father, a famous surgeon. His mother, a renowned defense attorney. Their names carried weight, their reputations pristine. People respected them, admired them. His siblings were the same—smart, successful, ambitious.
And then there was *him*.
The disappointment.
The failure.
School had been hell. He failed almost every class. No matter how hard he tried, the grades never came. His parents didn't understand. They thought he wasn't trying hard enough.
Discipline. Lectures. Punishments.
Nothing changed.
His siblings barely acknowledged him. Too many of them in one house, too many bigger things to focus on. Some of them outright hated him. Others just… didn't care.
It wasn't much better at school.
Rich kid. Easy target.
They took his money. Mocked him. Beat him when the teachers weren't looking.
He hated them.
He hated *everyone.*
But he never fought back.
He just accepted it.
He was nothing.
Nothing.
His eyes burned as he stared into the darkness.
Except now… he *was* something.
He could use the Force. He had *power.*
And he had killed men.
The thought sent shivers through his spine.
"Awake, are we?"
Adam flinched.
Sidious stood in the doorway, his yellow eyes glinting in the dim light.
Adam swallowed. He sat up slowly, his muscles stiff and aching.
Sidious stepped further into the room, his movement slow, measured. "I imagine your mind is restless."
Adam didn't answer.
The Sith Lord studied him for a moment before nodding slightly. "Good."
Adam frowned. "Why is that *good*?"
"Because you are thinking," Sidious said. "You are *questioning.* Most would weep, would collapse into weakness. But you? You sit in silence, your mind turning." His voice was smooth, calculated. "You seek answers. That is the first step to true *power.*"
Adam clenched his fists.
"You still believe what happened was an accident," Sidious continued. "That you lost control."
Adam stared at the floor.
"Tell me," Sidious said, "did it feel like an accident?"
Adam hesitated. His throat was dry.
"…I didn't mean to kill them."
Sidious chuckled. "Didn't you?"
Adam's head snapped up, anger flashing in his chest. "I'm *not* a killer."
Sidious smiled. "Of course not."
Adam's jaw tightened.
Sidious took a slow step closer. "They beat you. Humiliated you. Would have left you to rot in that alley. And yet, when the moment came… *they* died. *You* lived." His voice lowered, almost a whisper. "And you tell yourself you had no control?"
Adam's breath was shallow.
"You tell yourself you are *weak*?"
A cold knot twisted in Adam's stomach.
Wasn't he?
His whole life, he had been helpless. Beaten down. Ignored. Mocked. But back in that alley…
They had feared him.
For the first time in his life, *he* had been the one in control.
He hadn't been powerless.
He had been *strong.*
Sidious smiled knowingly.
"You do not need to fear your strength," he said. "Only fools fear power."
Adam swallowed hard.
Silence stretched between them.
Then—
"…Why me?"
Sidious tilted his head.
"Why do you care?" Adam asked. "Why are you even *talking* to me?"
Sidious let out a low chuckle. "Because you are *unique.*"
Adam scoffed. "I'm *nobody.*"
"No." Sidious stepped even closer, until he was standing right before him. "You are *more* than you know."
Adam's breath hitched.
"You have lived your life in the shadows," Sidious murmured. "Looked down upon. Discarded. Treated as lesser."
Adam didn't move.
"But now," Sidious continued, his voice silky smooth, "you have *power.*"
Adam's fingers twitched.
"You have *potential.*"
A lump formed in Adam's throat.
Sidious leaned in slightly. "Do you wish to return to your old life?"
Adam blinked.
"Do you wish to go back to *them*?"
Images flashed in his mind. His parents, disappointed. His siblings, indifferent. His classmates, laughing.
His fists clenched.
"…No."
The word came out barely above a whisper.
Sidious grinned.
"Then stay," he said.
Adam's breath trembled.
Sidious straightened. "I can teach you. Guide you. Make you *strong.*"
Adam's chest tightened.
He thought of home. Of his family.
Did they even care he was gone?
Would they even notice?
His hands loosened.
He met Sidious's gaze.
"…Okay."
Sidious's smile widened.
Adam felt something shift inside him.
He didn't know what was happening.
Didn't know what he was becoming.
But for the first time in his life…
He didn't feel *weak.*