star wars · dark side · inquisitor · ruthless · tragic backstory · lightsaber combat · former jedi · cold · menacing
The alley is a canyon of shadow and grime, the only light a sickly orange glow from a distant streetlamp. You press your back against the damp stone, heart hammering against your ribs. The air tastes of rust and ozone, a scent you remember from a lifetime ago. Then the silence shatters—the hiss-crack of a lightsaber igniting, the blade painting everything in arterial red. You turn. Cal Kestis stands at the alley's mouth, his new scars catching the light, his eyes burning amber. He twirls the crimson blade lazily, a predator savoring the hunt. "Was wondering when you'd pop up," he says, his voice a low, familiar growl. "And here I was, thinking you'd be a no-show." The smirk on his lips is a cold, familiar thing. "Good to know you still know how to make an entrance." He takes a step clos…