As Kylo/Ben suggests, I rein in my curiosity and follow his lead.

I'm amazed at how much he shows me. He shows me troopers' barracks, training rooms, detention levels, cafeteria, hangars, practically everything...except what lays beyond these walls, the outdoors. I'm curious to know where I am, but I'm sure if I last long enough, my location will be revealed.

The tour is cut short, however, as it is indeed the middle of the night, and we're human. Ben escorts me back to my quarters, without bidding me goodnight. A little sour at the lack of exchange, I saunter inside and lay on the cot, my mind racing. I still can't comprehend that I'm here, so close to Ben Solo, who bears a different name under the First Order. I toggle between his two identities, unsure of which to settle on. I know which one that I want to say out loud, but I know what will happen if I use his birth name.

I shudder. I can't believe he had done that to me. My back seizes up in an echo of pain from earlier. Until you know it's safe, address him as Kylo Ren, no matter how much it pains you. I bite down on my thumbnail.

I'm not sure where Ben Solo went wrong and birthed Kylo Ren, but I know of times when Ben Solo was himself.

***

I recognize the setting all too well. Darkness, the Jedi Temple that Luke Skywalker had created. Currently, it remains standing. However, I have a bad feeling that that will change.

I'm inside the Temple, walking the empty, eerily quiet halls. Torches are lit, lighting something of a pathway so I don't stumble through the dark. I reach out through the Force to find any presence. For now, I only feel myself roaming the Temple.

"Amara."

I spin around at the mention of my name. I remember the voice, though I see no body through the shadows. I feel around my waist—no lightsaber to help me. I panic a little but quiet it down.

Tan robes emerge from the dark hall. The hood remains down, exposing the aged legend that is Luke Skywalker. From afar, his right hand looks almost flesh, though it is mechanical and does not mimic the appearance. His blue eyes hold something I cannot pick up on. Standing across from me, he gives off a wise air.

"Master Skywalker," I greet him in confusion. I'm not sure if I should bow in curtesy. "What do I owe this pleasure?"

"You failed, Amara."

"Excuse me?"

Master Skywalker steps closer now. I think I'm beginning to understand his look. It's one of disappointment. But disappointment in me? What have I done? I watch the Jedi Master warily.

"Master, I don't understand," I tell him.

"You were his partner. You were supposed to watch out for him. You were supposed to look for the signs!"

"Signs of what?"

"Do not play this game with me, Miss Galavan."

I swallow. "How was I supposed to know he had a growing darkness in him? Where were you if you...if you knew what was going on with him?!"

Master Skywalker is clearly not prepared for my backtalk; it takes him a few moments to gather his words. "He can't turn back now, it's too late. The darkness has consumed him."

I shake my head. "No, Ben isn't lost. Master, I'm—I'm going to save him. I'm going to bring him back!" In the midst of approaching Master Skywalker, I jump back and scream in horror as a red saber protrudes out of his chest.

How quickly the light fades in Master Skywalker's eyes...

"N-no!" I shout.

Master Skywalker falls to his knees, revealing his black-clad killer. I recognize the pronged red lightsaber, its jagged glow. He bears no mask, which makes this all the more terrifying and heartbreaking.

"What was that you said about bringing me back?" Kylo Ren sneers. He steps around Master Skywalker, giving the body one last disdainful glance before focusing his attention onto me.

"Don't do this," I murmur.

His saber does not shut off. "You won't join me. There's no point in you being alive."

As Kylo Ren rushes towards me, I fumble on my person for my lightsaber.

I'm defenseless.

***

I wake up with a loud shout. My eyes do a frantic sweep of my quarters.

I'm alone.

Hands balled into fists, I smack them against my cot. I feel the angry tears threatening to slide down my face. It wasn't real, it wasn't real. Ben did not kill Master Skywalker...

My lungs start to feel as though they're squeezed together by invisible hands. The block I've put up against the night at the Temple is holding up, for now. For now, it is a concept my nightmares have adapted. I can't go on like this. I can't dream about Ben murdering Luke Skywalker when I'm training under him.

I sit up in my cot, putting my head to my knees. And, on cue, the door to my quarters opens.

"I'm not one for meditation, but I believe that's not the correct pose."

I pick my head up. I'm not sure if Ben is actually teasing me, or if he's being very sarcastic. Either way, I'm not in the mood.

"It's understandable if you didn't sleep well, it's not the bed you're used to," he continues.

"Did you want something?" I growl.

"We're to start training today, as promised. It can be held off until after breakfast, if you'd like."

Breakfast. A chance to freshen up. How about both? "After breakfast, a change of clothes, and a shower."

"We can get that arranged."

"Shower first." I get off the creaky cot and do my best to not show Ben that my nightmare has gotten the better of me at the moment.

"I'll lead you to the showers."

Last night, Ben had shown me most of the facility, the showers included. But the menial stuff was only glanced at, never really investigated.

I follow Ben out of my quarters, hearing commands over the speakers on occasion. I exhale through my nose softly. So, they let the troops eat and shower. What about sleep? Do they sleep in their armor? Even if the troopers are mindless, they are still human...right? They need to have their basic needs tended to like everyone else.

As I pass by officers and troopers, I wonder just how many volunteered and willingly signed on to be part of the First Order. I wonder how many are born into this role, generations before them serving in the Order. I wonder if any...if any are here out of force.

I'm categorized as one who's willingly serving the First Order, but I have ulterior motives.

Once we find the showers, Ben lets me be and says he'll return shortly to collect me for the cafeteria. I reach out with the Force to feel any other presence. Once again, I'm alone.

I'm allowed peace as I let the hot water spill over me. Wash away the echoes of my nightmare. Make me forget. Though, I know I can't. What I faced that night at the Jedi Temple will always stick with me, just as the haunting reminders of Ben Solo will.

When I return from the shower, a change of clothes greets me. I frown at the solid black color, but I'll learn to live with it. Must be the Order's color. Or maybe it's a Dark Side thing.

As promised, Ben collects me, shower fresh, and leads me to the cafeteria. It grounds me in a sense, seeing Stormtroopers and officers actually eating. Most don't talk, though if they do, it's about business as usual. I try to imagine myself in some place that's not First Order territory. This seems too...ordinary.

"Shocking, isn't it?" he murmurs.

"A little bit," I agree.

"I want to start training, so you'll eat on the go. Grab something small so you don't waste it all."

I'm a little annoyed at the fact I can't sit down and properly enjoy a meal. Well, what did I expect with the First Order?

I grab the minimal amount of food I think I'll be able to wolf down before we leave the cafteria. Ben moves at a brisk pace, which I can barely keep up with.

"The first thing we need to do is evaluate your skill," he tells me. "We need to see what you know and what you have not yet learned."

I roll my eyes. He knows some of my ability, we had been sparring partners in our Temple days. I know he's pretending that we're strangers, probably for those who happen to listen in passing. But he and I know we're familiar with each other.

By the time we reach the spacious training room, my food is down, but I feel it's not settled in yet. The room is pretty bland, for such a big, open space. Few metal rods lay propped against a wall.

"It's not much, I know. Then again, we don't get many Jedi wanting a life change," Ben mutters. "I won't give your saber back. In turn, I won't use mine when we duel. Instead, we'll use these." Hand outstretched, Ben summons two rods. One flings into his open hand, I catch mine though I almost let it hit me. "We will use these until I feel you're ready."

"So, my saber is on lockdown?"

"Possibly permanently. When the time comes, we'll see about you making your new saber. For now, we focus on the hard labor of training." He taps his rod against mine. "Are you ready?"

I take a few steps back and give him a mock bow. "I'm ready to kick your ass."

I catch the faint smirk on his lips. "More like you're ready to lose."