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.
And then came Beru—the Shadow Ant King, Jin-Woo's right hand and most loyal servant. His body gleamed with unearthly menace as he marched forward, mandibles clacking with anticipation. His voice carried through the battlefield like a trumpet of war. ( img Here )
"For the glory of the King of the dead !" Beru roared.
The chorus rose from the millions—Shadow Knights clashing shields, Shadow Magicians weaving torrents of abyssal flame, High Orcs bellowing their war-cries, Shadow Ants clicking in unison. Together, their voices thundered as one, a war chant that shook the heavens.
"The King shall prevail!"
Then—the battlefield itself seemed to shudder. A streak of darkness split the air, faster than lightning,.
Bellion had arrived. The Grand Marshal of the Shadow Army descended upon the Trade Federation lines, the very first being forged in loyalty to Ashborn, and now eternally bound to Jin-Woo. ( img here )
Bellion raised the monstrous weapon, the ground cracking beneath the sheer pressure of his aura, and with a cruel smirk turned toward Beru. "You talk too much, Beru."
Beru's mandibles clicked in irritation, his posture rigid. He flared his wings wide, refusing to yield the spotlight before his Monarch.
"The Grand Marshal steals our kills?!" Beru's voice boomed, rallying the swarm around him.
"We must not lose!"
A chorus of Shadow Ants screamed in defiance. The air crackled as Beru surged forward with his legion, a tidal wave of claws, wings, and abyssal flame.
Bellion's centipede-blade carved through hundreds of droids with each swing, the weapon lashing like a whip to decimate entire lines of AATs in bursts of shredded durasteel. His wings propelled him into the densest formations, where he massacred with terrifying efficiency, leaving nothing but twisted wreckage.
Not to be overshadowed, Beru and his swarm tore into the ranks with pure savagery—Droidekas shattered under their claws, their shields crumpling like glass. Battle droids were shredded by mandibles and hurled skyward only to be ripped apart mid-air.
Together, Bellion and Beru turned the battlefield into slaughter.. The Trade Federation's hidden army, two hundred thousand strong, was being consumed by the tide of shadows, and the massacre was only beginning.
The slaughter outside raged like a storm, but inside the throne room the atmosphere was just as heavy—if not more. The main group stood frozen, watching through the shattered windows as Jin-Woo's shadow army devoured the Trade Federation's forces. The ground shook with every impact, the night sky alive with the cries of shadow beasts.
And then—all eyes turned toward Morgan. Whose sat on a cushioned chair near the side, perfectly composed, nibbling delicately on a piece of faury cake. She blinked at the stares, tilting her head in mock innocence.
"…What? I'm innocent." She licked a crumb from her finger, entirely unbothered.
Padmé's composure cracked. She rushed forward, her hands gripping Morgan's shoulders, shaking her with wide eyes. Her voice broke in disbelief.
"Morgan—you didn't tell me that Jin-Woo has that masssssiiiiiiveeee armyyyyyy on his own?!"
Her words tumbled out in awe and shock, like she could barely believe what she was seeing.
Morgan groaned, setting her cake down before glaring at the young queen.
"Stop shaking me, princess. You sound like a bratty girl who just won the lottery."
The jab only deepened the stunned silence. Obi-Wan's brow furrowed, his hand tightening around his saber hilt. His voice came low, conflicted.
"This power… is it the dark side? No… it feels different. To me, it's more like—"
Qui-Gon's voice cut in, calm but edged with gravity. His gaze never left the window, watching the tide of death sweeping across the battlefield. "Dead," he finished. "King of the dead. The Daughter of Mortis calls Jin-Woo that."
The air in the throne room grew heavier, because of the weight of words. Qui-Gon's quiet declaration still lingered in the air, but Captain Panaka cleared his throat, shifting uneasily. His voice came slow, deliberate—like every syllable was walking on eggshells.
"I… I am grateful for your assistance, Lady Morgan. And to Jin-Woo as well, for evacuating the citizens of Naboo—nearly four billion people , impossible by any standard, somehow done. But—"
He hesitated, searching Padmé's eyes, then glancing back at Morgan, "—if Jin-Woo commands this… this massive army, then why did he not simply fend off the Trade Federation from the very start? Forgive me, I mean no offense, but… isn't it a little awkward? We traveled all the way to Coruscant, gained nothing, and returned here again. Do you… have a knack for travelling,?"
The silence afterward was thick. Panaka's attempt at tact had only twisted his words into something far more awkward. He winced, realizing too late how it must have sounded.
Morgan set her cake aside and gave him a long, unreadable stare. Then, she smirked. "Captain Panaka of the Naboo Royal Guard,.You don't need to be so awkward. I won't chop your head off for offending me."
Panaka stiffened, sweat almost forming at his brow,
but Morgan leaned back casually, continuing without malice. "Now, to answer your question…"
Her eyes slid toward The young Queen sat, nervously fiddling with her fingers. "…ask your dearest Queen Amidala herself."
Padmé cheeks coloring as every eye turned to her. She groaned, throwing her hands up. "Don't roast me too much! Yes, I know! The Republic is failing, democracy is failing—yada, yada—people are retarded. Happy?"
Rey, unable to resist, leaned her head against Padmé's like an impish sister and whispered with a grin, "I'm glad you admitted it, my queen."
Before the moment could lighten further, the entire throne chamber shook. One of the Shadow Knights was hurled through the wall—its upper half torn away by a AAT tanks laser cannon. The creature's torso crumbled into a heap of smoke and ash. Yet, before the horrified onlookers could even register the loss, shadowy mana swirled violently. The knight's missing half reformed in an instant, its body whole again, and without hesitation, it leapt back to the battlefield as if nothing had happened.
Qui-Gon's voice cut through it, calm but troubled, his gaze fixed on Morgan.
"…Is this what you meant, Morgan? When you said you hoped I could do what Jin-Woo did?"
Morgan let out a long, disappointed sigh, her attention still on the chaos outside. "Hahhh… what a disappointment. The Zakuul Knights are not what I expected. Even with Jin-Woo providing them Zakuul DNA, they lack the Instant Regenerative and armor I was hoping for."."Yes, I am aware of the Shadow Army's regenerative capabilities— It's not the level I envisioned. They can fight Tiredlesslly , but they're still flawed. Not yet at the point of true, infinite battle."
Obi-Wan's brow furrowed as her words sank in. He thought harder, piecing together the fragments in his memory. Then—something clicked. Ten years ago, on Mandalore. He had met Jaster Mereel and a young Jango Fett. They were the ones who spoke of the Armored Man, the mysterious figure behind the mask. They described him as a towering figure from myth, astride a black steed, cloaked in an aura like death itself.
Obi-Wan's chest tightened. he is not A towering figure … and no steed follows him . But that aura… He swallowed. The aura of death. It's the same.
He leaned closer to his master, whispering low, careful not to let the others hear.
"Master… I am confident. Jin-Woo is the Armored Man."
Qui-Gon's voice came back in a whisper, quiet yet steady.
"Good work, my young Padawan."
Obi-Wan froze for an instant, his breath catching. A realization dawned in him—his master had known. Qui-Gon had known all along. He wasn't guiding Obi-Wan to discover Jin-Woo's identity—he was testing him. Slowly, Obi-Wan whispered back.
"Master Qui-Gon… are you testing me? Helping me expand my knowledge? Was this something I needed to uncover myself?"
Qui-Gon turned his eyes to him then, expression unreadable, voice calm as the Force itself.
"Actually, no. I am glad you recognized it… but listen carefully, Obi-Wan. Keep this knowledge between us. If the galaxy were to learn that Jin-Woo and the Armored Man are one and the same, chaos would follow. The legendary hero—the Armored Man—who once accomplished the impossible, feats that neither the Republic nor the Jedi could achieve… who settled the Mandalorian Civil War, who ended the Stark-Tarkin Hyperspace War—revealed to be the very man standing here now? The Republic would tear itself apart."
Qui-Gon's eyes shifted then, lingering on Morgan. His voice dropped lower, carrying weight. He studied the barrier of shimmering pink that she had conjured with nothing but a gesture of her hand.
"Morgan,",what is your real purpose? You and Jin-Woo… as my apprentice observed, you lack nothing. You could bend the galaxy by yourselves. So tell me—what is your true intent? Is it conquest? To rule this galaxy?"
The room tightened with unease. The truth was undeniable: the Zakuul Knights, an army of cloned Force warriors, and Jin-Woo's endless tide of shadows—this was not the strength of simple allies, but empires within empires. Even the Jedi in the chamber felt the weight of what that meant.
Morgan did not flinch under his scrutiny. Instead, she exhaled , her eyes still on the battlefield beyond.
"Jin-Woo is… puzzling to you all,". "He has indeed lost something in this galaxy, and he intends to recover it. His method, however, cannot be comprehended by any being. Not even the Daughter of Mortis herself can predict his next move. But I will tell you this—"
Morgan tone sharpened slightly , "—right now, you are all being controlled by a mastermind. And you do not even realize it. You are blinded. Blinded by something that clings to Coruscant."
"I do not blame you, nor anyone else here. If I must assign blame, I'll cast it upon those who built the Jedi Temple on Coruscant six millennia ago. They planted the seed of blindness you live with now."
Her gaze shifted slightly, the pink barrier still humming at her fingertips. "Also—we should continue this dialogue later. I know you all have many questions for Jin-Woo. But as you can see, events outside have begun to heat up."
The ruined courtyard trembled with the echo of cannon fire. Darth Maul, half-buried atop a smoldering AAT tank, staggered to his feet. Around him lay the twisted remains of his droid army—burnt durasteel, sparking wires, crushed scrap metal. His yellowed eyes blazed as he snarled.
"You cheat!" Maul spat, pointing his red saber toward Jin-woo . "You didn't answer my challenge for single combat! One on one—that was our fight!"
From the darkened arches, a shadow stirred. Igris—the first knight ever converted by Jin-Woo, now one of the Marshals of the Shadow Army—emerged like a living nightmare. His armored fist shot forward, smashing across Maul's face with a brutal Punch that echoed over the courtyard. Maul crumpled back, spitting blood and shattered teeth onto the stone. ( img here )
Igris's voice rang like steel . "You dare disrespect my liege, pitiful Sith? You speak of honor while it was you who dragged an army to this place, turning it into all-out war. Hypocrite. I suggest you silence your wretched tongue before I hunt down every scrap of livestock you own… and sever your head myself."