The power generator hall were littered with sparks, the metallic scent of ozone clinging to the air. For nearly two hours the chamber lay silent , Then heavy crawl echoed through theroom .
Darth Maul dragged himself back to the site of his humiliation. His chest heaved, sweat slicking his tattooed skin, rage burning in his eyes like wildfire. He found it—the severed arm that Talon's trickery had stolen from him. snatching it from the scorched floor.
A guttural growl tore from his throat as he pressed the severed limb against his shoulder. Flesh and muscle twisted unnaturally, veins blackened by dark side corruption pulsing with renewed vigor. He forced the lower half of his body to reconnect, grinding his teeth as sinew and bone fused back together. His roar reverberated off the walls as the connection locked, raw power and agony mixing into one.
Panting, Maul staggered upright, his frame ragged but whole. His mind replayed every instant of his defeat: the Jedi Master who dared resist him, the insolent apprentice who nearly cost him everything, and most of all—that cursed red Twi'lek.
"That Twi'lek… cursed red wretch…" . "She fights like him. Like Jin-Woo. The same arrogance. And the green phantom girl… the one who moved like Dathomir witch itself…" His lips twisted into a feral grin, teeth bared. "How many apprentices do you keep, Jin-Woo? How many toys do you command? No matter. I'll gut them all. I'll savor their screams."
Maul clenched his fists, body trembling with hatred. With every breath, his fury sharpened, feeding the dark side within him. Then he threw back his head and bellowed, with shouting voice .
"JIN WOOOOOOOO!"
The name echoed like a war cry across the broken halls of Theed.
Maul's steps grew steadier, more determined. His eyes burned with obsession, his face twisted into a mask of bloodlust. He marched toward the far side of the generator complex, where a lift waited—its doors.
With a swipe of his hand, the controls sparked and hummed to life. The lift shuddered and carried Darth Maul upward through the palace, . When the doors opened, he stormed forward, rage uncoiled in every step. His boot smashed against the grand doors of the Theed throne room,.
He expected fear. Panic. Screams. Instead, the sight that greeted him stoked his fury beyond words.
The enemy was feasting. Sabe and Captain Panaka sat on a side table, trying delicate creampuffs Morgan had conjured from some strange recipe of England. Panaka wiped cream from his lip, muttering something about them being "too sweet," while Sabe snorted at his lack of refinement.
Across the hall, Talon and Rey were crouched over a platter piled high with Korean fried chicken—Jin-Woo's favorite—gnawing and crunching like it was the finest meal of their lives. Elena Daru, her skin a striking blue, leaned over her twin with an impish smirk.
"Sister, give me your portion," Elena demanded, voice playful but edged with that need to outdo Talon.
"No way," Talon snapped back, hugging her plate closer. "You already finished yours."
In the center of the throne room, Qui-Gon sat cross-legged, eyes closed, posture serene despite the chaos of Maul's return. Obi-Wan mirrored him, though his brow furrowed with effort.
"Like this, Master?" Obi-Wan asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
Qui-Gon cracked one eye open, studied him,. "A little close. But you must relax more, Obi-Wan. It will deepen your focus with the Force."
In another corner, Morgan le Fay and Padmé Amidala bent over a chessboard—not holochess, but an old-fashioned set of black and white pieces Morgan had conjured.
"Understand the rules, dear princess?" Morgan asked, voice smooth, almost condescending.
Padmé narrowed her eyes and moved her knight with a sharp clack. "Watch your back, old hag. You may have untold number of wisdom, but I can still beat your ass."
Morgan's smirk faltered, ever so slightly.
Maul's eyes darted over the room, burning with disbelief and rage. Not one of them cowered.. His gaze swept until he realized one figure was missing. Jin-Woo. The silence broke with footsteps beside him.
"There goes my vape," Jin-Woo muttered dryly, holding the crushed cylinder in his hand. He stepped through the same shattered doorway Maul had kicked in, his expression calm, tone almost bored. "Guess the door broke it."
He walked forward casually, through the throne room like the predator he was. The others hardly reacted as if his arrival and Maul's intrusion were nothing more than background noise.
At last, Jin-Woo stopped—barely one meter from Maul. He tilted his head, his lips curling into a slow, deliberate smile, his eyes locked onto the Zabrak. The entire room seemed to bend under the unspoken weight of who truly held dominance here.
Provoked beyond restraint, Maul jabbed a finger toward Jin-Woo, his voice a guttural snarl.
"I challenge you! A cowardly man like you against me—one on one! Whoever survives will rule the galaxy!"
Morgan didn't even bother to turn her head. She slid a black rook across her chessboard, eyes still fixed on Padmé.
"Your master right now has his own problems—still cleaning the messes Jin-Woo left him. Rule the galaxy? . "I think you've forgotten something. No one rules the galaxy yet."
The words stung Maul, but before he could retort, Qui-Gon rose, his body still weary but his resolve iron.
"I'll take my rematch against—"
He was cut off. Morgan's hand withdrew from her chest and rested firmly on his shoulder, pressing him back down. "No Right now, Jin-Woo will finish what neither of you could. And besides…" She looked around the throne room with a sly smile. "Aren't you all curious? To see his true strength?"
Obi-Wan pushed himself up,. "Jin-Woo,if possible—capture him. Don't kill him."
Jin-Woo stepped forward in silence, until the finger Maul had pointed brushed close. Without warning, Jin-Woo slapped the hand aside, snapping Maul's arm back with a sickening twist. Bone cracked as he twisted it until the Zabrak's finger bent in the wrong direction.
Jin-Woo's smile widened, his eyes narrowing with lethal intent. "Didn't your mother ever teach you? It isn't nice to point at someone. But you're right about one thing. It's time we finished this little rabbit-running game."
Maul grimaced in agony, but his snarl only deepened. With a guttural growl, he twisted his body and snapped his own bone back into place, the flesh re-aligning as his regenerative curse worked its way through him.
The room saw it. Maul smiled back at Jin-Woo . He had forced Jin-Woo to stand his ground.
With a snap-hiss, Maul's crimson double-blade roared to life, its glow bathing his face in a predatory light.
Morgan, unmoved, lifted a hand. A shimmering veil of pinkish mana unfurled around Jin-Woo's allies, a transfiguration barrier. It coiled like liquid glass, encasing them with an elegance that mocked Maul's raw brutality.
The Zabrak sneered at their nervous glances.
"Don't worry," he spat, his voice rough with hunger. "All of your turns will come next."
Morgan eyes fixed elsewhere. Her tone was casual, almost bored. "This isn't for you, angry Zabrak. Even if the moon fell on me, it wouldn't leave a scratch. I'm far more concerned with Jin-Woo losing his restraint and crushing us all by accident."
The taunt hit its mark. Maul's face twisted, fury boiling over. "WHY?!" His scream shook the chamber, veins bulging with Force rage. "Why does everyone see him as special?! Why not ME?!"
He lunged, rage-fueled speed surging, intent to end it in a single spin of red arcs.
And then—instinct. A whisper in the marrow of his bones, a primal warning: run.
Maul obeyed. His body flung itself back with everything it had—only to feel the sickening separation as his left arm and left leg were severed in an invisible flash.
The throne room window exploded outward, cleaved as if by a god's blade. Shards of transparisteel rained down in a storm of glittering ruin. Shadows unfurled. Jin-Woo's own stretched unnaturally, swelling, spilling across the floor like a black tide swallowing the light.
Jin-Woo said, his eyes never leaving Maul . "You managed to sense my intent and escape the finishing blow. But now...you got what you wanted. Here I am—no longer running."
He stepped forward, calm but merciless. With a sharp kick, he sent Maul's severed limbs tumbling across the polished floor.
"Patch yourself up," Jin-Woo said flatly. "I don't want rumors claiming I only won against a cripple."
Maul snarled, snatching up his own flesh. The Dark Side twisted and screamed around him as he pressed his palm against the wounds, tendrils of corruption and hate binding sinew back to bone. His body lurched unnaturally until he stood whole once again—repaired, if only by the cruelty of the power he wielded.
But his other hand had already moved. A hidden holopad flashed faintly in his grip as he pressed it.
Outside, in the ruined courtyards of Theed Palace, the devastation from Jin-Woo's experimental Zakuul Knights lingered. Smoking wrecks of AAT tanks lay scattered, B1 battle droids broken in heaps. Though victorious, the Zakuul Knights had been butchered—only four remained alive among the carnage.
Then the ground shook. From hidden deployments, ranks upon ranks of Trade Federation reinforcements emerged. Two hundred thousand machines of war stormed forth—lines of B1 droids, rolling Droidekas, and fresh AAT tanks, their shadows blotting the burning horizon.
Maul ignited his saber again, his voice dripping with cruel glee as he turned his gaze back to Jin-Woo, steeped in the Sith art of dun möch. "No matter how many you kill, no matter how much power you flaunt—"
He never finished. Jin-Woo moved in a blur, a crack of air left behind. His foot connected with Maul's chest at impossible speed, launching him like a ragdoll through the air. Maul crashed into the steel hull of an AAT tank below, the impact tearing metal apart with a shriek.
The shadows rose higher as Jin-Woo's voice followed, taunting him. "How many livestock of Sith cultists do you have left now?"
Jin woo words echoed through the ruined chamber,. "Since your little trick of temporary immortality is slowing you down… do you really think you can survive the endless night?"
Maul's teeth ground together, eyes narrowing in fury. His gaze snapped toward a nearby OOM battle droid.
"Open fire on that despicable castle—on that cowardly man!" Maul roared.
The OOM droid's photoreceptors flickered once before it obeyed. "Roger, roger. Open fire."
AATs rotated their massive cannons toward the Theed Palace, turrets glowing as they unleashed volley after volley. Blaster bolts rained from hundreds of battle droids, scarlet streaks filling the air like a storm of death.
Jin-Woo voice was calm, absolute. "Go."
The ground ruptured. The air split. Shadows that had been writhing impatiently beneath his feet finally surged free. From the abyss, the full might of the Shadow Monarch's army flooded the battlefield. More than ten million soldiers poured forth, .
At the forefront stood Tusk, the Marshal of Jin-Woo's forces. His colossal frame towered above, skin glowing an unnatural crimson, eyes blazing with piercing purple light. A long black hooded cloak draped across his shoulders, skulls rattling on the necklace that hung heavy at his chest.
Tusk raised one massive arm, bellowing with a voice that cracked the very air. A dome of shadowed energy swelled outward, forming an impregnable shield around Jin-Woo and the entirety of Theed Palace. Every laser cannon, every blaster bolt—deflected, absorbed, and cast aside as if meaningless sparks against the abyss.
From the skies above, the world darkened further. Shadow dragons descended in a storm of wings and fire, their roars echoing across the valley as they rained destruction upon the Trade Federation lines.
On the ground, giants of shadow emerged, each step shattering durasteel and stone. They brought their massive fists down like falling mountains, crushing Droidekas and tearing through squads of battle droids as though they were brittle toys.