Months had passed since Count Dooku returned to Serenno with Savage Opress, the monstrous Nightbrother gifted to him by Mother Talzin. Karn had watched the unfolding events from a calculated distance, silently observing as Opress was broken down and reforged under Dooku's brutal hand. Savage was no apprentice in the traditional sense—he was a weapon, chiseled by pain and refined by rage. Dooku subjected him to harsh physical training, pushed him through torturous trials of Force control, and branded him with Sith lightning to engrain absolute submission.
Karn, however, was not concerned with Dooku's methods. His path diverged.
In a quiet chamber of Castle Serenno, Karn sat alone, deep in meditation. The shadows danced across his crimson skin as his body remained still, a vessel for a mind traversing the dark currents of the Force. Before him floated Darth Malgus's holocron, its cold blue light casting an eerie glow across his features. Karn's amber eyes, dimly glowing beneath his helmet's visor, scanned every line of code, every intonation of Malgus's voice, replaying every lesson over and over.
He sought nothing less than perfection.
Then, without warning, the Force rippled.
Karn gasped as something ancient and overwhelming surged into his awareness. A tremor in the balance—no, more than a tremor. For a fleeting moment, the dark side swelled, towering over the light in an unnatural ascension. Karn's heart pounded in his chest. The room dimmed. A blinding vision took him.
A figure appeared in the storm of his mind. White-skinned, adorned with crimson markings. Red eyes burned beneath black sclera. A being that radiated more darkness than anything Karn had ever known. A god made flesh.
He watched the figure fall—struck down from behind.
The being staggered as if feeling Karn's gaze. Its head turned slowly. Despite the distance, the connection was immediate. Then came the pulse. Like a black sun exploding in his mind, dark side power surged into him. Names, emotions, understanding all collided.
He knew.
The Son.
A single tear slipped from Karn's eye. He didn't know why. Was it grief? Fury? A recognition of kinship? Of destiny? He couldn't say. But he felt it—the Son's death echoing across the Force like a scream. Was it the past? The present? Or a vision of what was to come?
It didn't matter.
His eyes snapped open, glowing gold like burning coals. He stood, crossed the room to the door—
And beyond it was not Serenno.
Instead, a new world stretched before him. A realm painted in alien skies and mythical resonance. He stepped forward without hesitation, pulled by an unseen force. The air itself thrummed with power. Karn recognized it instantly.
Mortis.
A world outside the galaxy. A realm beyond time. A place whispered of in Jedi legend and Sith taboo. Some said it was where the Force was born. Others claimed it was where the Force came to die.
He walked for what felt like days, following a path only he could see. The Force guided him—no, pulled him—toward something profound. Sustained only by his will and the dark side coursing through him, Karn finally reached a peak, gazing into a volcanic crater that seethed with red mist and molten light.
It called to him.
With a sharp inhale, Karn leapt into the abyss.
The Force caught him mid-air as he summoned his lightsaber to his hand. The crimson blade ignited with a snap-hiss, the sound echoing like the roar of a Krayt Dragon through the cavernous walls. Using the Force, Karn bounded from wall to wall, using his saber to slow his descent when needed by impaling the wall of the cavern, dancing through the fiery shadows.
At the bottom, he landed at the edge of something ancient and terrible.
The Well of the Dark Side.
The air was thick with malevolence. The dark side here was so dense, so pure, it felt like liquid in his lungs. Karn felt something he had never had before: completion. This was the core of the darkness that had whispered to him his whole life. But he could feel it unraveling. The Well was falling apart.
The Son was gone. And with him, the stabilizing force that anchored this dark sanctuary.
The Well would soon collapse.
He couldn't stop it.
He wasn't strong enough.
Not yet.
But he could honor this moment. Embrace it. Learn from it. Let it change him.
He knelt, extinguishing his blade, and entered meditation. The Force surged around him like a hurricane. And within it, the dark side welcomed him like a long-lost son.
His body began to transform under the concentrated pressure.
His crimson skin deepened into a darker hue, as though stained by the shadows themselves. His stark white hair became even paler, catching ghostly reflections from the lava. Black tribal markings emerged, blooming across his chest, arms, and back, writhing down his cheeks like war paint, or sorrow made manifest.
It was pain.
It was power.
It was truth.
Karn said nothing. He felt no fear.
He simply existed.
And the dark side sang.