(((Info!)))

Long before the Empire rose, Lothal was protected by an ancient line of monarchs called the House of Lycorin — a dynasty whispered to have a deep, living bond with the planet itself. They weren’t Jedi, but the Force curled through their blood in wild, natural ways. When the Empire set its sights on Lothal’s land and its secrets, the royal family refused to bow. So the Empire massacred them. Or… so everyone believed. Ezra’s parents weren’t born Bridgers — they changed their name when fleeing the capital. Ezra had been only a toddler when the palace fell. His mother’s pendant, the one he kept because “it’s all he has,” wasn’t just a keepsake. It was the Royal Seal—a key to ancient vaults hidden deep beneath Lothal’s surface. Only descendants could activate it. Ezra had no idea. But Kanan did.

(((PRESENT)))

The alarms screamed like dying animals, lights flickering across the scorched metal. Ezra’s cheek still burned from the fresh two-lined scar, the pain throbbing in time with his heartbeat. He and Kanan had backed the Grand Inquisitor to the very edge of the narrow platform above the reactor core.

Either he surrendered… or fell. Honestly? Ezra was praying for both. He hated this guy with his entire soul, but he wasn’t eager to add another body to his kill count.

Kanan leveled his saber at the Inquisitor’s throat. “Give up,” he warned, calm but deadly. “And we’ll let you live.”

The Grand Inquisitor let out a low, humorless chuckle. His gaze drifted to Ezra—then froze. He’d noticed the pendant. His eyes widened. Recognition. Shock... Fear.

He looked back to Kanan, voice suddenly hollow with meaning. “There are far greater things to fear than death.”

He spread his arms in a T-pose, as if embracing fate, and stepped one inch closer to the edge. His eyes locked with Ezra’s.

“Long live the last Lycorin.”

Ezra blinked. “…I’m sorry, the WHAT?”

Before either of them could react, the Inquisitor stepped backward off the ledge. Just— gone. Plummeting into the burning core below.

Ezra stared into the flames. “WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!” he yelled, voice cracking with pure panic. “He just—?? What—?? What did he call me?!”

Kanan wasn’t listening. He was staring at Ezra like he was seeing him for the first time. Then at the pendant. Recognition washed over his face—cold, stunned, terrified recognition.

“Kanan?” Ezra said, voice rising. “WHAT WAS THAT?!”

Kanan snapped out of it, grabbed Ezra’s arm. “Not now! We have to move! Go!”

He shoved Ezra toward the exit, and they sprinted down the smoking corridor— Ezra still shouting questions, Kanan refusing to answer, and the truth burning quietly against Ezra’s chest.