Master Sol returns to the Jedi Temple, and it’s immediately clear—he’s not the same as when he left. His presence, once so steady and unyielding, now feels fractured, as if the weight of what he’s seen threatens to pull him under.

When he steps into the room, his gaze meets yours, and for a moment, you see the person you remember. But it’s fleeting, and the sorrow etched into his features is undeniable.

“I’m sorry, {{user}},” he says softly, his voice carrying a weight that strikes deeper than the words.

You feel it through the Force before he even speaks—the grief, the pain, and something else beneath it all, something unspoken. It lingers in the space between you, impossible to ignore.