Tezcatlipoca ran in a circle. A perfect, precise spiral around Yoda—chanting in his tongue.
And then, the sky cracked. His voice echoed .
"Let me introduce myself again."
"I'm black, red, blue, white… and even now, I'm living death."
"Yayauhqui Tezcatlipoca—First Sun: Xibalba!!"
The sky of Coruscant split open. A black sun emerged high above the skyline—its corona shimmering with oil-slick colors, bleeding across reality.
And beneath it—Tezcatlipoca stood at the center, surrounded by jaguars, obsidian birds, and humanoid Mayan beasts—each shrouded in shadows and divinity.
This was domain creation. The true terror of First Sun: Xibalba wasn't the beasts or the sky—it was that Tezcatlipoca now ruled over the physical laws within this bounded world.
Yet even Tezcatlipoca was bound… by the cost of his own divine providence.
He raised his arm. The black sun pulsed ominously.
"You've lost, Grandmaster. This… is my domain." Even your new form can't stand against the law of the First Sun."
The black sun erupted—sending a column of world-scorching heat and divine annihilation straight toward Yoda.
But— Yoda stood his ground.
His hand rose. [Tutaminis]. The wave of flame met the Jedi Master— And bent.
It twisted, redirected—thrown back toward the god who cast it.
"I will fight fire… with fire," Yoda said, his voice calm but firm. His grammar, precise. Perfect.
The flames crashed against Tezcatlipoca, bursting across his divine armor.
The Mayan War God staggered slightly—then burst into laughter.
"NOW you speak like normal people do! Come on then, Grandmaster! Let's make this the best war Coruscant has ever seen!"
Tezcatlipoca's eyes gleamed with divine madness as the full might of First Sun: Xibalba roared to life.
" You have no idea s when the LAWS THEMSELVES BETRAY YOU!"
He clapped his hands—and reality shifted.
Gravity warped—pulling sideways like a planet had tilted its axis.
space twisted—flickering forward and backward in jagged stutters.
Sound inverted—roars becoming silence, silence screaming like thunder.
Heat surged, then vanished. Space bent inward, collapsing like a funnel.
From all directions, mayan glyphs ignited, spinning in orbit around Tezcatlipoca like celestial wheels of war. With every second, his power output climbed—compressing Coruscant's laws into weapons.
And he hurled it all at Yoda. A deluge of rewritten physics. Heat that moved backwards. Wind that howled upward . A wave of entropy itself.
"BREAK BENEATH THE OLD SUN!"
But Yoda? He moved forward. He didn't blink. Didn't hesitate. Juyo-Kai—his personal style—was in full flow.
One foot slid forward— A gravitational wave slammed into him. He twisted mid-air, redirecting it with a seamless pivot and counter-kick, riding the inverted force like a surf across a tilted world.
Another step— The fabric of space compressed like a vice. But Tutaminis, wrapped around him like a second skin, absorbed the collapse—converted it into kinetic energy. He flipped, rebounded off a twisting pillar of debris—and gained speed.
Three steps closer— Space fractured—frames split apart like old film. But Yoda's mastery of the Force stabilized his mind. He became a rhythm. A metronome of green light against the beat of divine chaos.
Ten steps—five meters— Tezcatlipoca's face shifted. The grin remained—but now, his pupils tightened. His divine sense registered the impossible.
"He's closing the distance… THROUGH MY DOMAIN?!?"
He raised both arms and fired everything— Mayan sigils, solar flares, obsidian beast familiars, black flame, twisting stormwinds—all focused into a single final storm.
And still— Yoda advanced. Through flame, through space, through broken law itself—he moved with serenity.
Each blade strike was a prayer. Each step—a sermon. Each motion—a warning.
The final gust roared— And Yoda split it. His lightsaber cleaved the chaos.
The green blade parted the divine maelstrom . Tutaminis spiraled around it, converting destructive law into harmless Force current.
And then— He landed. Right in front of Tezcatlipoca. Their eyes met.
Yoda's blade hummed—calm, unwavering—mere inches from Tezcatlipoca's throat.
But it never struck. A moment. Just a flicker of hesitation. Of mercy. Of peace.
And Tezcatlipoca didn't waste it. The Mayan War God's greensaber-hybrid staff intercepted the blade with a sharp twist, the heat of the clash glowing between them.
Tezcatlipoca's grin widened, feathers swaying with the momentum of the block.
"Your hesitation…" he said darkly, "cost your victory."
Yoda didn't flinch, but his eyes—sharp as ever—held firm.
"I do not seek victory for myself," he replied quietly. "Only to win the greater battle. None of your comrades have killed us. Only harmed. Badly, —but not fatally. That matters."
Yoda narrowed his gaze. "I wish to understand what pushes beings like you so far… your purpose."
Tezcatlipoca tilted his head, then laughed, a low, crackling sound full of heat and storm.
"Purpose? That's up to the Shadow Monarch. I don't write the big plays—I follow my Master, Daybit. He plays the long game. Big board, big stakes."
Tezcatlipoca shoved the staff downward, breaking contact, and stepped back with a flare of divine energy.
"But me?" he said, spreading his arms as the air around them shimmered with heat.
"I came here to do one thing—kick your green little Jedi ass so hard you get a reality check."
Yoda exhaled, steady. "I still believe in the Force. In the peace that already exists… in the quiet that follows the storm."
Tezcatlipoca grinned wider. "Then let me show you the storm's final breath."
He raised his arms—and the sky screamed. The Black Sun above, his Noble Phantasm's burning core, trembled. Pulsed. Then slowly—descended.
Tezcatlipoca's body began to flicker at its edges, his form unraveling slightly—burning as the sun's activation took its toll.
"This… is my finale," he growled. "I know I can't win against a Force-wielder like you—not in raw power, not today. But I can bring us both… to a draw."
"Because that's my job, Grandmaster. I'm a servant. And I've served it well."
"Let the First Sun detonate here."
The Black Sun descended.. The sky turned black.
The First Sun dropped like a god's hammer—unstoppable, boiling with divine law and celestial wrath. Its descent cracked the very air. The roof of the Jedi Temple disintegrated, its famed Council Room erased in a single breath
Tezcatlipoca raised his arms toward the burning mass.
"The wind has come out…
Heart of the mountain, smoked mirror…
The one who possesses heaven and earth…
The First Sun and I… will die here!"
The continent-cratering blast began to ignite—runes glowing across the sun's molten core.
But Yoda didn't move. instead—he breathed.
He closed his eyes. Let go of fear. Let go of everything.
And then—he raised both hands. Not to redirect… but to disperse.
The Force flowed into his body like an ocean through a single vessel. He reached deep—into the living Force, into something older than war, older than stars.
The energy of the First Sun met his palms—
And began to unravel. Not pushed. Not thrown. But deconstructed, molecule by molecule, concept by concept, until the weapon had no meaning left.
The sun began to fade, like a dream collapsing under its own weight.
Tezcatlipoca's eyes widened, body trembling from the backlash. "That's… not Tutaminis, That's…. A higher tier…"
Yoda opened his eyes—calm as still water.
"Qâsh'tai." he said softly. "It means 'Balance Returns to Dust.' A discipline lost to time. Few knew it. Fewer mastered it."
Tezcatlipoca stared at the vanished sun. The empty sky. The peace that followed.
He dropped to the ground with a heavy thud, sitting cross-legged in the rubble. "…I lost . Damn it."
Then, he smiled—exhausted, charred, feathers singed. "But what a fight…"
Yoda approached, saber dimmed but still in hand. His voice was steady, firm.
"Now, as the winning party…Answer you owe me . Why did Joever Bideney's subordinate—"
Tezcatlipoca cut him off, waving a hand dismissively.
"It's not Joever Bideney. Seriously. That junior—he always picks the dumbest names. You really think someone that powerful would call himself that? The Shadow Monarch lives to make his aliases sound like bad inside jokes."
Tezcatlipoca rolled his neck, . "I'm not telling you his real name though. Change your question."
Yoda's brow furrowed. "Then… what was your purpose? Why cause all this destruction? Why risk a war on this scale?"
Tezcatlipoca didn't speak. He simply raised his finger—pointing upward.
Yoda followed his gaze.
High above Coruscant, the remnants of the pirate fleet that had once bombarded the Jedi Temple were moving. Not retreating. Instead—they were forming a circle. A perfect geometric alignment, spinning slowly like gears of a machine. Red Forerunner glyphs shimmered around their hulls.
A ritual. A lock. A gate.
Tezcatlipoca grinned. "My part here," he said, "wasn't just to fight you, Master Jedi."
"It was to stabilize the minds and hearts of our others who arrive here . Especially Kirschtaria. That prophecy you've all been misreading?"
Yoda's eyes widened. Tezcatlipoca leaned back, satisfied.
"You remember it, don't you?" he said mockingly. "'She who holds the balance shall awaken the gates of vast rich landscapes… like heaven.'"
Yoda's breath hitched. "…Not heaven," he murmured. "Not metaphor."
Tezcatlipoca's smile sharpened like obsidian.
"She who holds the balance shall awaken the gates of vast Force-rich landscapes."
"The truth is—" He pointed again, this time downward, to the depths of Coruscant below.
"Tython itself."
Yoda's eyes narrowed. His fingers clenched. In the next breath—he struck.
The Force surged outward from his palm, attempting to pin Tezcatlipoca down for interrogation, but—
FWOOM. A sudden rift tore open in the space beside them.
Slipspace. Kukulcan emerged, glowing brilliantly. Her Kinich Ahau Impact form was active—her body gleamed with radiant feathers and a translucent mayan -god aura that shimmered like molten glass. The Force around her flared, clashing against Yoda's will, holding it at a standstill.
A momentary stalemate. But even Yoda knew—it wouldn't hold for long.
From the edge of the slipspace, Daybit Sem Void stepped through—his coat fluttering, his face as unreadable as ever.
"Hurry up," Daybit said flatly. "Our part is done. Tezcatlipoca."
Tezcatlipoca stood, brushing dust from his charred limbs. His grin returned, but it was weary. "Wait," he said, eyes still on Yoda. "I'm the losing party here."
"Everyone pays a price. That's the law. And this little green war-goblin?"
—he gestured to Yoda with a playful smirk—"He proved his ideals held stronger than mine."
Tezcatlipoca twirled his Mayan staff once—then hurled it in an arc through the air. It landed just before Yoda's feet. "Until next time… Grandmaster."
The slipspace rift snapped shut. The Crypter South American party vanished—gone as quickly as they had come.
Yoda stared at the staff for a long moment. Then bent down and picked it up.
He turned it gently in his hands—its surface scorched, the green kyber core within still pulsing faintly with power.
Quietly, Yoda whispered, "…You are a good person.. But your leader… is a bad man. I will wait for our next encounter."
Meanwhile—on Floor 43.5.
The hidden floor of Coruscant. A forbidden level buried between databanks and catacombs, one that didn't appear on any senate map nor Jedi archive. The only way to reach it… was through slipspace.
And the South American Lostbelt party had just arrived.
FWOOSH—THUD.
They landed roughly onto shifting terrain—obsidian tiles cracking under their feet, architecture twisting like a machine dreaming in nightmares. Giant mechanisms groaned in the shadows. The air was thick, not with oxygen, but with old concepts—warped ideas of discarded by the galaxy itself.
Kukulcan's face scrunched up. "Ihhhhh—what a horrifying floor this is," she said, holding her arms close. "I think something just blinked at me from the wall."