"I don't know why you're here, living this new life," Anakin said gently. "But I don't think you need to force a meaning onto it. You've been given a fresh start on an unknown world. Keep your memories as keepsakes, but don't let them be your shackles. Just... live."
"You've certainly gained perspective in your old age," I remarked. "That was almost profound."
Despite his advice, I couldn't just forget. I was a Jedi. That identity was not a suit of clothes I could discard. Even if the name Avtus was gone, the soul remained.
"You're as stubborn as ever," Anakin sighed. "Inflexible. Truly a Jedi to the core."
"Perhaps."
"It's no use, then. Alright, look at it from a different angle, Avtus. Your old home is gone, yes. But Kotoha has a home, doesn't she? This planet isn't dead yet. If you can't abandon the Jedi way, then protect the world you're in now. Be a Jedi for this place."
"A Jedi for this place... Yes. You're right. You're absolutely right!"
Of course! I had already resolved to do this once before. Even without the Force, even without the Republic, I had decided to live as a guardian. Now that my connection to the Force was restored, the path was even clearer. My duty hadn't changed; only the scenery had.
And more than that... if my Amplification Quirk can increase midi-chlorian counts, I can do more than just use the Force myself. Even if I risk starvation in the process, I can learn to control the output. I can find others. I can foster the gift in them.
In this world where the Force is thin, I can rebuild the Order from the ground up!
"Thank you, Anakin. I see it now. My purpose is clear."
"Good. I'm glad you didn't mope for too long. So? What's the grand plan?"
"I am going to restore the Jedi!"
"...Are you insane?"
Anakin stared at me, eyes wide. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised; he was the one who destroyed the Order, after all. He clearly had strong opinions on the institution.
"The Jedi of our time fell because they deserved to fall," he said bluntly. "Stagnant leadership, blind faith in their own 'justice,' the arrogance of trying to control the future instead of living in the present... the list of their failures is endless. If you want to build it again, you can't just discipline yourself. You have to constantly ask if you're actually helping the society you live in. A man standing in a blinding light is just as blind as one in total darkness."
I had no rebuttal.
I have only been "not a Jedi" for four and a half years, but my experiences in this world—and the faint doubts I had harbored even before—made it impossible to argue. Looking back at the Order through the lens of this chaotic Quirk society, I could see the cracks he was talking about.
"Do you still want to do it?" Anakin asked. "With no Republic to serve and no Empire to fight, do you really need the name 'Jedi'?"
I hesitated for only a second. "Yes. I do."
"Oh?"
I straightened my posture, facing him with the gravity of a Knight. I needed a moment to find the words. Language is a clumsy tool for the heart's convictions, but I didn't want to answer with a mere reflex.
"Anakin, do you know how dangerous this planet is? Public order is a fragile illusion. Because of these 'Quirks'—powers that rival the Force—thousands die or vanish every year. This country is considered 'safe,' yet even here, the list of tragedies is endless."
"And?"
"And that means this world needs the Jedi. It needs guardians who protect the freedom and justice of the innocent who just want to live in peace."
"That's your reason?"
I nodded firmly.
There are "Heroes," yes, but their system is flawed. Some are noble, but many are incomplete—shackled by fame, bureaucracy, or simple human ego.
"I see. I suppose if this world lacks the long peace the Republic once had, a proactive force for resolution is necessary. The Jedi were like that once, in the early days of the Old Republic."
"Exactly. I want to practice that 'Old Way.' I have no intention of building a massive, rigid bureaucracy like the one that failed us. I just want to lay the foundation in this lifetime."
"Hmph. Not a bad goal. It's a good 'Origin' for Kotoha, I suppose. Not Avtus, but Kotoha."
"Thank you, Anakin. Talking to you... it helps. Your perspective is invaluable."
"Well, I've been around the block. Being a Sith Lord teaches you a few things about the flaws of the Light. Plus, I have experience as a teacher. As Obi-Wan used to say, the master learns as much as the student."
I smiled, remembering that he did have a Padawan once. Ahsoka. They had been a remarkable duo, even if her departure from the Order had been a tragedy.
Then, a realization hit me. I want to restore the Jedi... but I was never a combat specialist. I was a researcher, a diplomat, an archivist. I hadn't mastered all seven forms of lightsaber combat. But the man standing in front of me was one of the greatest duelists in galactic history.
"...Wait. You're making that 'I have a terrible idea' face again."
"It's not a terrible idea," I said smoothly. "I was just wondering if you would be my Master."
Anakin's shoulders slumped with a heavy sigh. But when he looked up, his messy hair falling over his eyes, there was a glimmer of amusement in his smirk.
"Fine. For old times' sake. I haven't had anything interesting to do for a millennium anyway. I'll stick around and see how far you get."
"I knew I could count on you!"
Friends truly are a blessing.
I cleared my throat and bowed deeply, showing the proper respect. "I look forward to your tutelage, Master Skywalker."
"Ugh... hearing you say that gives me the creeps."
"How rude!"
We fell into a bickering rhythm that felt like coming home. For the first time in years, I felt like laughing.
...Though, out of the corner of my eye, I saw my parents whispering to each other. "I've never seen Koto-chan look so happy," they said, looking at me with a mix of relief and profound confusion.
And as Anakin started howling with laughter again at the absurdity of a ghost training a toddler, I could only hope the Force would eventually grant me a moment of dignity.