Jin-Woo lifted his hand and pointed toward the distant figures. "Put this on your mind , Morgan. Jedi or not, Jacen Solo isn't a fool. He won the war against the Yuuzhan Vong—a race that not even the Force could touch. He might not be as wild as his Sith self, but make no mistake… he's still a future-era powerhouse. Fighting him is like facing someone who can use real magic in an age when it's considered myth."
Morgan took that in. The weight. The meaning Her smile returned—sharp, proud. She nodded once.
"I'll come back as the winner, Jin-Woo."
Her spear materialized in a snap of black petals. Her feet stepped forward.
And the path ahead responded.
Jin-Woo watched her go for just a moment, then turned—his own path humming with the promise of war.
Morgan stood at the end of the jagged, floating causeway, face-to-face with the two other selves of Jacen Solo. No one spoke.
She, the Queen of the Fae and Lostbelt England—was no stranger to gods or monsters. But these two? They weren't monsters. They weren't gods.
They were men. Men who had touched a system just as alien and divine as magic .
The Jedi Knight raised his hand without a word. [The Force Push]. A surge, unseen and impossible to gauge—slammed forward.
Morgan, instinct razor-sharp after watching Jin-Woo's earlier duel, reacted not with defense—but with substitution.
In a flick of black mist, her body shimmered and vanished—replaced instantly by one of her alter egos. A thoughtform forged from magic and fragments of her psyche. The construct was obliterated the moment it made contact with the Force push, sent flying into a crumbling pillar of thought-space.
Morgan reappeared a short distance to the side, unharmed. Her brows furrowed, but her focus remained absolute.
"You're fast," she murmured. "But let's see how you deal with this."
With a flick of her wrist and a chant that twisted the invisible leylines of the astral arena, she summoned Rhongomyniad—her version of the Lance of the End, a divine construct that once pinned reality to the World's fabric. A spiraling spear of light and law, woven from the metaphysical threads of Britain's soul.
She hurled it with a roar. The path behind her split. Time skipped.
The spear burned as it cut through dimensions, aimed directly at Jacen Solo's chest.
And then… It stopped. An inch before touching his outstretched palm.
Not because it lacked power. But because his Force halted it.
His arm trembled, the skin blistering instantly from the divine heat. But he held it there. The full brunt of her spear of reality—held back by nothing but raw control and will.
A second later, his Wanderer self stepped behind him, eyes glowing faintly, lips whispering ancient words.
Battle Meditation. She recognized it now. He wasn't alone. His focus, sharpened. His presence, bolstered.
"…You're kidding me," Morgan muttered, lips twisting in disbelief.
"My spear," she said louder now, her voice shaking slightly with rage and awe, "burned down a Fantasy Tree. And you… halted it with a hand?"
The spear dissolved in golden sparks, falling like stardust.
Morgan stood there, boots pressed against the fragmented causeway, golden stardust still trailing off her now-dissolved Rhongomyniad. The Force-wielding enemy had done something no mage, no god-beast, not even a Fantasy Tree had ever accomplished—halted the Spear of the End.
Her hands trembled not in fear—but in recalibration.
"The Force can destroy a planet's surface with one attack," Jin-Woo had said back in the crypter chamber.
She hadn't taken it seriously then. Not completely.
But now? . Now, standing here with two versions of Jacen Solo Appeared before her eyes now she believed.
For the first time in my life… I question myself, she thought, her eyes narrowing, heart steadying. What would I even be… in Jin-Woo's galaxy? Probably a side character. One of those forgotten queens who gets struck by a giant bolt of lightning and written out in the next chapter.
And yet—she smirked.Because even if that were true, she wasn't going down quietly.
A faint shimmer rippled through the air as both versions of Jacen Solo—his Jedi Knight self and his Wanderer self—vanished with Force Cloak. Not a sound. Not a trace. No magical signature for her to read. No leyline disruption. Just… gone.
Her eyes darted left. Then right.
Where—? She snapped her fingers. Ten alter egos burst into being around her, spiraling in a formation—each a mirror of herself drawn from thoughtform and magecraft. They floated, walked, twirled, eyes gleaming—acting on her instincts without delay.
If either Jacen intended a stealth attack, they'd find themselves ambushed by a queen with ten bodies and only one rule: survive.
Should I use my Throne replica ...? Her hand hovered near her chest.
The Throne: Roadless Camelot was her ultimate field—a sealed, reconfigured version of Camelot's divine core. A nightmare made from her ideals, where she reigned absolutely.
But no... not yet. Not until she saw how they'd strike. Not until she knew where they were.
Despite the silence, she relaxed her stance just a little.
Lightning, she thought. From what I saw... Jedi don't use it. Only Sith do.
Morgan's boots shifted lightly against the ground, her senses narrowing as she caught a strange pull—something west of her, something subtle, almost imperceptible. Her eyes flicked toward it.
She didn't know why. Her body moved instinctively, but her mind questioned it.
That wasn't strategy. That was… impulse?
Did I just react to nothing?
Her brows furrowed.
No. That's not how I fight. That's not how I think.
She calmed her breath, forcing her pulse to steady. I've been ambushed before. I've lost before. But I've never second-guessed my own movements…
And yet her instincts flared—too late.
A sharp ripple tore through the air as the Force Cloak peeled away like layers of fog, and Jacen Solo—his Jedi self—was suddenly there.
One clean, brutal motion. His hand gripped her neck, slammed her against the wall of the Vergence, and pinned her in silence.
The impact stole her breath, but not her poise.
Morgan didn't scream. Her limbs didn't flail wildly. She looked him in the eyes—calm, sharp, and cold.
Her mind already moved. I don't know what technique you used. Some strange trick from another world… but I know this much—
You struck first. Not clean. Not final. Just first.
As his grip tightened, Morgan's magic circle pulsed faintly beneath her feet—quiet, precise, activated by pressure, not casting. She had already woven it earlier, layered beneath the battlefield dust with her backup alters.
A faint pulse glowed beneath her heels . Her own magecraft, built in layers, hidden in her footsteps. Activated by pressure—not hand signs, not incantations. Silent. Waiting.
Her left hand twitched. The signal was made.
Ten alter egos—her thoughtform constructs—ignited into being with spectral howls. They lunged toward Jacen Solo, blades and blasts coming from all directions—
But in a blink, red flashed.BLAM-BLAM-BLAM-BLAM.
Blaster bolts split the field. From the other side, Jacen's Wanderer self sniped each one mid-charge. They shattered like glass, fragments of magecraft vanishing in smoke and color.
Jacen—the Jedi version—smiled as his green saber ignited with a hiss, rising to slash down Morgan before she could move again.
And Morgan? She smiled too. The ground shifted.
A sheet of water surged upward beneath their feet like rising glass—mirror-smooth, blindingly bright. Both Jacen Solos—the Jedi and the Wanderer—were caught. The water curled, hardened, and wrapped into a vertical sphere, a mirrored dome that swallowed them whole.
The Jedi slashed against it. The Wanderer fired his blaster. Neither made a dent.
From the outside, Morgan stood tall, brushing off her cracked shoulder with casual disdain.
"That's the Water Mirror. Normally, it's meant to banish attacks threatening Camelot."
She rolled her neck with a satisfying pop.
"But I've modified it. Turned it into a cage."
She raised her chin, voice sharpened.
"Jin-Woo's AI—Offensive Bias—always says our world is primitive. Weak. That everything we do is beneath 'proper logic.'"
She took a step forward, eyes locked on the reflection of Jacen Solo as his mirrored form pressed against the inside of the cage, still trying to cut his way out.
"Now I'll ask you both," Morgan whispered, venom in her tone.
"How does it feel… to be beaten by a world more backward than yours?"
Inside the mirrored prison,
Jacen Solo—the Jedi self—finally spoke. His voice reverberated oddly through the water-like barrier.
"For a queen of Britain… or rather, this Lostbelt version of it," he said evenly, "you keep fighting… even though you know you'll lose in the end."
Morgan's expression faltered for half a second. She stepped back, eyes narrowing.
How does he know that…? she thought. The only one who's ever said anything close to that—was Jin-Woo. Even then… I never spoke it aloud.
Her gaze darkened.
Jacen raised his hand within the barrier. The Force rippled from his palm—not with aggression, but with immense precision. The Water Mirror began to shiver, light bending unnaturally before it shattered like a cracked pane collapsing under pressure. Steam hissed out from the edges. The cage was undone with frightening ease.
"I'm impressed," Jacen said as he stepped forward, his Jedi robes billowing. "Queen Morgan… you've taken cautious steps. You've grown layers. You've resisted better than most."
He tilted his head slightly. "Even my Flow Walking didn't work perfectly on you. That puts you in… rare company."
Morgan steadied her breath, eyes locked with his. Her voice was sharp.
"So that's how the Force works? Probing someone's identity and mind? Is that your justice? It's no different than a thief rifling through memories they don't own."
Jacen didn't flinch. His voice remained calm—clinical.
"I only manipulate the past to a certain extent.[ Flow Walking] lets me plant suggestions, shape their meaning. It's not mind-reading. It's not prophecy. I don't steal your mind… I nudge the path it walks."
He took a single, deliberate step forward. His lightsaber remained unignited—but the Force around him stirred with quiet authority.
"I usually see the future as well. That's how I win. But here?"
"This world is different. There's something in this system… or someone… that interferes. I can't see beyond certain threads."
He turned his gaze upward. "That person name Jin-Woo."
"I can't see his past. I can't see his future. Not even a flicker," Jacen continued. "I don't know what he is. But the Force doesn't recognize him."
"And that... that terrifies me more than any Sith I've ever faced."
Morgan's eyes narrowed as her voice dropped coldly. "And your Sith self… is here. That's your main self now, isn't it? That's what you became. The very thing you were sworn to fight."
"You became something you were supposed to protect others from."
Suddenly, without warning, Jacen Solo's wanderer self—watching silently up until now—closed his eyes… and dispersed into threads of luminous Force energy . His essence spiraled inwards, drawn like particles into the Jedi version of Jacen, who staggered slightly as the power flowed into him.
The shift was instant.
The Jedi Jacen Solo now had the old wanderer's long-range blaster weapon grafted to his left forearm—a seamless fusion. His stance widened, and his eyes flared with purpose as he now held both his lightsaber and blaster.
"I don't know what happens in the future," he said quietly. "I only carry the fragments of who I used to be… Jedi. Seeker. Wanderer. But I do know one thing."
He raised both weapons. "I have a request, Queen Morgan."
"Please die—so I can reunite with my true self."
Without hesitation, Morgan growled and raised both arms, summoning two glowing spears—Rhongomyniad, the spears of the end. The sky trembled under their appearance, golden-white energy flaring violently from their tips.
She hurled them. The spears spun like divine javelins, toward Jacen Solo with Anti lostbelt -breaking force. But Jacen didn't falter. He didn't even dodge.
His left hand glowed, and with practiced calm, he caught both blasts in the palm of his hand using Tutaminis—the Force technique of absorption and redirection. The Rhongomyniad energy surged violently against his control, but he clenched harder, bending the golden light, forcing it to obey—and with a final twist— He threw them back.
Morgan's eyes widened, but her body moved before thought could finish. She twisted through the air with a dancer's grace, vaulting over the returned lances. They detonated behind her with a thunderous shockwave, fire and divine light consuming the battlefield in golden bloom.
Flames roared in the background,
but Morgan never looked back. Her hair swept wildly as she landed with a spin, eyes locked on Jacen's.
"I refuse, I will not die." "Because I still want to reunite with Jin-Woo."