When Obi-Wan finally relaxes enough to fall into his meditative state and take a step into the Force, the Son is already expecting him on the obsidian cliff.

“Ah, Master Kenobi! What a pleasure!” he exclaims, the corners of his lips lifting in a strange, unnerving smile. “Truth be told, I expected you years ago, back when my Sister first approached you. But then again, it is a miracle you have finally found two solid minutes to yourself, with you being a glorified babysitter to the spoiled brat and all.”

The Son’s voice is smooth and as thick as honey, much like Obi-Wan’s own, and it makes him shiver.

He rolls his eyes in annoyance. “Being the Dark One doesn’t mean you have to be rude, you know.”

“Fair enough,” the Son laughs and raises his palms in mock-surrender. “I know you’ve come to discuss a pressing matter, and I know your time is very precious these…well, years. After all, how long is it going to be before your young apprentice bursts into your room, sobbing and hysterical, crying for his beloved Master, huh?”

Obi-Wan shakes his head with a sigh. “Are you quite done?”

“Not nearly,” the Son laughs again with cruel satisfaction. “Oh, I am having so much fun with you already, my little Jedi! Tell me, how did you manage to make the boy leave you alone long enough for you to meditate and come talk to me?”

“You know how,” Obi-Wan grits out through his clenched teeth. “I lulled him to sleep.”

He winces, already anticipating the outburst of laughter before it actually comes. Still, he startles when the Son guffaws like a madman.

“And how did you manage that, huh, Master Kenobi?” The Dark One claps his hands like an excited child. “Tell me! Tell me!”

“I–” Obi-Wan hangs his head and clenches his fists, awaiting another portion of mockery. “I sang to him.”

“What’s that?” The Son raises his eyebrows in fake surprise. “I didn’t quite hear you.”

“I sang to him!” Obi-Wan snaps, having suddenly lost his famed control. “I held him in my arms and sang to him!”

He is breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling dramatically with every intake, his cheeks flaming with rage and embarrassment, the blue of his eyes dark and stormy.

He doesn’t know why he is being so defensive and on edge out of nowhere but…

How dare this…this Sith poke his dirty fingers in his most private moments!

Attuned to its master’s mood, the ocean roars somewhere below, crashing into the cliff in foamy splashes. Thunder rumbles ominously in the distance.

“Now look at you!” the Son marvels. “Finally! The real Obi-Wan Kenobi in all his raging glory! Aren’t you magnificent like this, little Jedi?”

The Dark One reaches out to touch Obi-Wan’s cheek, but he catches his wrist and pushes his hand away.

“I’ve come to warn you, Dark One. Your Sister, the One of Light, is aware of your plan. She told me all those years ago that you would come for Anakin, and now I see the signs and I can sense you are finally planning to make your move. That is why I have come to speak with you,” he says sharply, his chin raised in defiance. A silent challenge. “I know that everyone who’s even a little Force-sensitive cowers before you and your terrifying might. Even darksiders, your own servants. But I am a completely different story. You have no power over me and don’t scare me.”

“Perhaps not yet.” The Dark One chuckles. “But then again, you don’t know me so well, little Jedi. The things I can do…”

“What can you do?” Obi-Wan’s eyebrow rises in both a taunt and a challenge. “You obviously have no power to fight, otherwise, you wouldn’t have come here to talk. You would have just taken your heir from me.”

“Maybe I just wanted to meet the illustrious Negotiator,” the Dark Son quips with a smirk.

“Well, I am here,” Obi-Wan smirks in return, spreading his arms. “And, as the Negotiator, I am asking you to abandon your evil plans. Repent before it’s too late. Reconcile with your Sister. Listen to the voice of the Force and ask for its forgiveness.”

“So you are but the voice of the Force? Nothing more? Just a messenger?” The Son raises an eyebrow. “No, Jedi, don’t play coy with me. I’ve known you ever since you were born and I can see you are able to accomplish great things in your righteous zeal. But maybe that’s the danger of it? Have you considered the fact that my dearest Sister’s ‘warning’ could be nothing more than a masterful, subtle manipulation?”

Well, not exactly very subtle. Obi-Wan presses his lips not to say that out loud and folds his arms in front of himself in an unconscious protective gesture, but doesn’t interrupt the Son.

“Your soul is shining in the Force like the brightest star. And although it actually hurts my eyes to even look at you, I can still see that you are wise and cunning, Obi-Wan Kenobi. But are you sure you interpret those signs the Force is giving you correctly? Are you sure you have chosen the right Side? Isn’t it possible that you are meant to help me in my quest and not my Sister?”

“To help you?!” Obi-Wan almost chokes with indignation. Is the Dark One completely mad?

“Hard as it may be to believe, I am not actually your enemy here, Obi-Wan. And I can prove it,” the Son suggests in the sweetest of voices. “Will you hear me out, Jedi? Will you allow me to expound my views on the Force?”

“By all means, Dark One.” Obi-Wan, in turn, bows a little and gestures with derisive courtesy. “I’m all ears.”

Does he really think he can seduce him, the Negotiator, with sweet words and promises?

“Surely, you cannot deny that the Force is what created this world and what holds it together?” the Son starts, ignoring Obi-Wan’s mockery.

Obi-Wan nods curtly. He can’t argue with that.

“And if the Force has the Dark Side, is it not evident that it wants to be that way? Dual in its very nature?”

Obi-Wan nods again, frowning now. But he can’t help being curious as to where this is all going, so he doesn’t interrupt the Dark Son.

“And as a Jedi, you cannot believe that the Force is unable to defeat the Dark within itself, can you?”

“The Force is all-powerful,” Obi-Wan acknowledges, his voice careful and thoughtful. “Nothing is impossible for it.”

The Son smirks with satisfaction as he continues:

“The Dark and the Light are like two hyperdrives of a spaceship carrying our reality through the vastness of space and time. And the Dark Side is not a manifestation of evil – it exists to maintain the balance in the Force. A new sprout reaches for the light, but it is born in the darkness of soil. A new star lights up the horizon, but its spark is ignited in the darkness of space. Is it not so, Jedi?”

“I suppose…” Obi-Wan slowly inclines his head to the side in confusion. He is so engrossed in his thoughts now that he doesn’t immediately realize that the Dark One has come closer again, resting his hand on Obi-Wan’s upper arm.

His enchanting voice keeps whispering, now close to Obi-Wan’s ear:

“A Sith is not someone inherently evil. It is someone who uses the Dark Side as a means to an end. And who is to say that the purpose cannot be noble? A Sith is merely someone who can wield the weapons of the Dark–”

“A soldier in the army of death!” Obi-Wan finally interrupts, coming to his senses, having recognized his momentary lapse of control and batting the Son’s hand away.

“A soldier, yes,” the Son admits lightly, taking a step back under Obi-Wan’s wrathful gaze. “But isn’t that what you raised your Padawan to be? Didn’t you beguile him into following you with your alluring words? Doesn’t he belong at your feet? On his knees? Is he not your soldier? Your weapon? An instrument in your hands?”

Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow, skeptical. “Perhaps. But I’ve brought him up a Jedi – a warrior of the Light, just as your Sister ordered me. What makes you think that I will let him fight for the opposite Side?”

The Son smirks as though he has been waiting for Obi-Wan to ask that question.

“Do you know that after the Ones are gone, the only person who can bring balance to the Force again is the Chosen One?”

“It has been foretold.” Obi-Wan lowers his head in agreement.

“And haven’t you ever wondered how it is possible that one person is supposed to do a two-man job?” the Dark One prompts.

“I…” It doesn’t usually happen to Obi-Wan, but this once he is forced to admit: he is at a loss for words. He has never actually given it too much thought. “Well, come to think of it, it indeed takes two – you and your Sister – to maintain the balance…”

The Son laughs in delight.

“Finally! And here I thought it would take decades before someone among the Jedi realizes the obvious – it takes one from each Side of the Force. And curiously enough, the Chosen One your oh-so-holy Temple has, is not even from your Side.”

“Anakin is–” Obi-Wan gasps in helpless indignation.

“A Sith,” the Son interrupts, finishing for him. “Or he will be. And soon. He is my heir after all. That’s why my Sister sent you to turn him against me. She thinks he can tip the scales in her favor in our final showdown. She’s never been one for balance.”

“No! Anakin won’t fall. I will not let it happen!” Obi-Wan’s hand unconsciously reaches to his belt, to where his lightsaber should be. But here, in the Force, he doesn’t have it. He lets his hand fall back to his side, battling his anger back under control.

“Oh, but you will,” the Son assures him with a nasty smirk. “And not just that – you will actually be the one to push him, make him fall into my Dark waters.”

“I will do no such thing!” Obi-Wan exclaims in terror, helpless to do anything more than to stand there and listen to the Dark One’s awful, ugly words.

“Then how will you get him to balance you?” The Son raises an inquisitive brow, and Obi-Wan’s witty reply gets stuck in his throat.

“What– What do you mean, balance me? As in–”

“You being the second half of the prophesied balance?” the Son laughs cruelly. “Yes. Of course, the boy is already dimming your unbearable blinding Light as it is, but if his Darkness doesn’t get thick enough soon, your fire will just burn down first him, and then the entire universe.”

“Lies!” Obi-Wan flares up. “That doesn’t make any sense. If what you’re saying were true, the Daughter would have told me. Surely, she would have warned–”

“Open your eyes, Negotiator!” the Son exclaims, losing his patience. “You’ve seen enough liars and hypocrites – they sit in your Senate, they sit on your Council… You know better than anyone what they look like when they think they can manipulate their way through anything. Can’t you see the vile smirk of a tyrant under the Daughter’s mask of assumed holiness?”

“Are you seriously telling me your Sister is evil? That she is not averse to the Dark Side?” Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow in amused disbelief. The sheer audacity…

“Oh, she hates the Dark Side all right. And she will stop at nothing to destroy it.” The Son chuckles mirthlessly. “So that planets do not cast dark shadows over the light of stars, she will blast them all to pieces. For the sake of the greater good, of course.”

“Right,” Obi-Wan drawls. He doesn’t seem convinced in the slightest.

“It is not a trick, my dear Obi-Wan.” The Son’s voice suddenly sounds tired. “I swear to you, if Anakin’s Darkness doesn’t contain your Light, my Sister will use you. You will become her ultimate weapon. You will end the world.”

“I don’t believe you,” Obi-Wan whispers with only his lips, his voice cracked and barely audible.

How can it be? How has he turned out to be the one who needs to be contained? How can it be that his Light is, in fact, a catastrophic nuclear reaction which needs a confinement sarcophagus only Anakin’s Darkness can create?

Unthinkable...

“Oh, my sweet little Jedi…” The Son shakes his head as if in regret. “Soon you’ll see that not only Darkness can destroy galaxies. We are not so different after all, my Sister and I. In any case, you can choose to believe me or not, but the time is near when you and your apprentice should stand together as one and–”

The Son suddenly bends in half in a fit of violent coughing.

“Dark One–” Following a sudden pang of compassion, Obi-Wan rushes to his aid. “Are you all right?”

“Not nearly.” The Son raises his palm in a forbidding gesture, stopping Obi-Wan from coming any closer. “I feel my doom closing in, so let us continue while I still have time.”

“Allow me at least to ease your pain,” Obi-Wan insists. “I’m good at Force healing.”

“If it is not too much to ask…” the Son relents and lets Obi-Wan press his palm to his chest, sending a healing wave through the Force.

“Thank you, Jedi. I can see that your famous compassion and your sense of duty is stronger than any prejudice, even against your enemies.”

“You should continue your treatment at the Temple,” Obi-Wan urges. “We have great healers there, and if you are willing to manifest yourself to them–”

“No, it would be of no use to me now.” The Son shakes his head and pushes Obi-Wan’s hand away. “Anyway, I’ve done everything I can to warn you that Anakin’s fall is imminent, but the free will is still yours: you can choose to stop him – or help him when the time comes. Think about it, and goodbye, the Righteous One.”

He suddenly leans forward and presses a quick kiss to Obi-Wan’s forehead. And then throws himself off the cliff.

Still in shock, Obi-Wan looks at the horizon.

The storm is gathering there.

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

“Master!”

Obi-Wan hears Anakin’s distant voice calling his name. Calling him out of his meditative state. Needy as always.

And then another voice, immediately supplying:

Doesn’t he belong at your feet?

Obi-Wan opens his eyes.

“Come here, dear one.” He beckons to his young apprentice to come closer to his armchair. “Come sit at my feet.”

And Anakin Skywalker falls to his knees.