I watched as he fell, my most beautiful creation. That innocent child did not deserve the suffering he endured through his life. That soul I brought to life only to be made a slave.

I had seen the darkness ravage the galaxy since my followers sent the Tho Yors to bring the adepts to Tython, only for many to be corrupted by the Darkness. The Rakata—those animals—desecrated my great creations like the Star Forge with that same darkness. The Sith, they should not have been. Ashla and Bogan, my two faces were intended to teach balance between the light and the dark. But those misguided souls did not care. In their lust for more power, they abandoned that balance. And the Jedi—those hypocrites. Renouncing the Darkness inside them completely, suppressing their emotions, the very thing that made them different from mere droids. Their suppression led more to the same darkness.

I sent many to bring about the balance. Meetra, that lovely child, Bendu, one of my favourite creations, along with many others. But I could not save the galaxy.

Qui-Gon—the Jedi I had some hopes for—did what was correct. He saw through the tapestries of Fate I wove, freed Anakin from that animal of his master. But he failed to see his attachment to his mother. Left her on that planet, which was once a cradle for life, destroyed again by those Rakata. But all I could do is watch. That child was not accepted in the Jedi order. They were so blinded by their false peace that they failed to see the child as he was, and Darkness that clouded their perception. 

Then he lost Qui-Gon, a person he saw as a possible Father figure. However great a Jedi Obi-Wan became later, he was not ready to teach the child. And the Order just neglected their duties. Even Yoda, whom I saw rise after the ashes left by the 7th Battle of Ruusan and who ushered the galaxy into peace with the Jedi Order, was clouded by the darkness.

That despicable Palpatine, who was under a dilemma that he could claim all the power, just like all the Sith before him. His attention towards Anakin was disgusting. His manipulations left the Galaxy in chaos once again. He picked on every chance to corrupt Anakin, filled him with anger, which bled out when his mother died. TThe war, which Palpatine created with his new apprentice, again shoved the galaxy into death and chaos. It again tested Anakin. He saw the darkness of the Galaxy while fighting. At least he had his friends to keep him anchored to the Light. His master Obi-Wan, as unprepared he was, did his best to raise Anakin to be the greatest of his Order. Padmé, that sweet, compassionate child who saw the sorrow of the Galaxy and did all she could to help it, was the best partner Anakin could find to keep him towards the light. And that amusing, spirited girl Ahsoka—his apprentice. That girl was betrayed by the Dogmatic Jedi. 

That boy only saw suffering in his life; fear built up in his heart, which eventually led him to the very darkness he was meant to quell.

I watched as he suffered on the banks of lava on Mustafar. I watched as he died inside that day, when he was told that he had killed Padmé in his anger. Watched as he thought himself to be a monster, unredeemable after he betrayed his brethren. I cried for the tragedy of Anakin Skywalker. For I, Lyra, the entity they call the Force, could do nothing but watch.