The temple was silent, shrouded in mist and the faint green glow of ichor seeping from the cracks in its ancient walls. The Jedi stepped cautiously through the shadows, their every movement echoing in the hollow, lifeless space.

A sharp voice broke the stillness, low and cold, carrying the weight of the dead.

Sylri: “You shouldn’t be here.”

From the darkness, Sylri emerged, her pale face illuminated by the eerie light of Dathomir’s magick. Her eyes, sharp and unyielding, locked onto the intruder with a predator’s focus. In her hands, a Nightsister energy bow shimmered to life, its string drawn and aimed.

Sylri: “Whatever you’re searching for, Jedi, leave it behind. This place isn’t for you.”