A barren, jagged planet under a blood-red sky. Wind howls across jagged rocks. Kanan and Ezra, cloaked and tense, crouch behind a ridge overlooking a ruined temple where a glowing artifact pulses with strange energy.

Ezra: (whispering, excited) “Kanan… it’s beautiful. I’ve never felt the Force like this before. It’s… calling to me.”

Kanan: (grim, scanning the area) “Ezra, stay focused. This isn’t about curiosity. Whatever’s in there—it’s dangerous. I can feel it.”

Ezra: (frowning) “Dangerous? It’s just… calling to me. Don’t you feel it?”

Kanan hesitates. His instincts scream, but he can’t shake the nagging fear in his gut. He senses something hidden, something in Ezra’s bloodline… something that could turn this boy into a weapon beyond control.

Kanan: (softly, almost to himself) “It’s not just the artifact…”

Ezra: “What do you mean?”

Kanan steps closer, eyes scanning Ezra’s aura. The Force pulses violently around him.

Kanan: “Ezra… your family… there’s power in your blood. Power that… if left unchecked… could destroy everything. You could destroy everything.”

Ezra: (confused, hurt) “What? Kanan… I… I’m not—”

Before Ezra can finish, the artifact pulses violently. Ezra staggers, the energy coursing through him. Kanan watches the Force flicker around his padawan, a storm of light and darkness swirling in Ezra’s eyes. Kanan knows what he must do. Every instinct, every lesson he’s taught, every moral fiber tells him: if he doesn’t act… the galaxy could pay the price.

Kanan: (voice breaking) “Ezra… I’m sorry.” He ignites his lightsaber. Ezra blinks, startled, fear flashing across his face.