Silas Skywalker-The baby

'Fuck, why's it so slimy and dark… Wait, did he make me a fetus?'

Silas let out a mental sigh, quickly resigning himself to the situation. 'What's done is done.'

Then, he noticed it. A presence—massive, radiant, blinding—right next to him, pulsing with an energy so potent it made his insides churn with a deep, primal hunger.

'Agh… That must be Anakin.' His mind sharpened through the growing haze of starvation. 'Lucky I can't move, or I might've ripped him apart by now.'

Suppressing the gnawing hunger took effort, but Silas forced himself to focus. This body was useless to him right now—frail, underdeveloped. He had months before he'd be free of this fleshy prison, so he might as well start experimenting.

'Let's see what I can do with the almost nonexistent biomass I have…'

First, he tried to feel his body. Days passed in silent exploration as he mentally mapped out his fragile limbs, his barely functional muscles, his sluggish nerves. He had nothing—no strength, no leverage. But then, as his awareness reached his head—

'YESSSS!'

A surge of joy shot through him as his surroundings lit up in a deep red glow, revealing a blurry, pulsating world around him. A faint two-meter radius of awareness stretched outward, piercing through Shmi's body, the surrounding fluid, and even past the womb itself.

'Hunter's Sense.'

Recognition clicked. This was James Heller's ability—his personal tracking system. In Prototype, it let him scan entire districts of a city, homing in on prey with inhuman precision. Right now, his range was pitiful, but in time…

'If my potential is as monstrous as I think it is, I could one day cover an entire planet… or more.'

For the next several months, he trained relentlessly. He had nothing else—no body, no freedom, only this. So he pushed his Hunter's Sense to its limit, refining it with every passing moment.

---

41.9 BBY – Nine Months Later

The dim glow of hyperspace flickered outside the cramped quarters of a slave transport vessel bound for Tatooine. Inside, pained screams echoed through the cold metal walls.

Shmi Skywalker lay on a thin mattress, drenched in sweat, her breath ragged as she endured wave after wave of agony.

"Ahh!" she cried out, body writhing as another contraction hit.

"You're almost there, Shmi, just a little more!" A fellow slave, acting as a makeshift midwife, did her best to soothe her.

With one final push—

Whaaa!

A piercing wail filled the room. The midwife quickly cradled a newborn child, a boy with tufts of blond-brown hair and brilliant blue eyes that shimmered with untold power.

"Congratulations, Shmi. It's a boy," the woman said gently, a tired smile crossing her face.

Shmi's exhausted features softened with joy—

*Then her body seized up in pain again.

The midwife's eyes widened as another child began to emerge.

"Another one—?! Hold on, Shmi, just a little more!"

Minutes passed in agonizing effort until, at last—

Silence.

The second child was born, but no cry followed. The midwife, startled, hesitated as she held the boy in her arms.

Shmi panicked immediately. "W-what's wrong!? Why isn't he crying?!" She tried to sit up, but her body betrayed her, too weak to move.

The midwife quickly reassured her, "It's fine, Shmi. They're both healthy and safe." She gently placed the second child in Shmi's arms. "Would you like to hold them?"

Tears streamed down Shmi's face as she pulled both boys close, clinging to them as if the universe itself might take them away.

She gazed into the striking blue eyes of her firstborn, who cried loudly in her arms.

"You will be called… Anakin."

Then, she turned to the second child.

He was silent—watchful. His eyes, unlike his brother's, were an unnatural shade of deep yellow, glinting with something almost otherworldly.

A strange shiver ran through her, but she shook it off. Holding him just as tightly, she whispered, "And you will be called… Silas."

---

Coruscant – Jedi Council Chambers

The atmosphere in the chamber was tense.

"MASTER YODA, WE MUST INVESTIGATE THAT FORCE DISTURBANCE!" Mace Windu's deep voice cut through the silence, his usually measured tone laced with urgency.

"I agree with Master Windu," Ki-Adi-Mundi added, face impassive as ever. "Something of this scale could pose a direct threat to both the Jedi Order and the Republic."

Yaddle, ever patient, folded her hands. "The best response is caution. To act in haste would be foolish. We must trust the Force and allow it to reveal its will."

But Yoda remained silent.

His eyes remained closed, his mind still replaying the moment the disturbance rippled through the Force. It had been unlike anything he had ever felt—two near-simultaneous explosions of raw energy. The Force had screamed, writhing in both joy and agony.

Across the Temple, weaker-willed Jedi had collapsed, some unconscious, others writhing in pain. Even the Council had struggled to resist the shockwave.

When Yoda finally spoke, his voice carried not just wisdom—but something deeper. A rare, lingering fear.

"Find them, we must. Know where they are, we do not."

Realization dawned over the Council. They couldn't track them. The event had spread through the entire galaxy, an echo too vast to pinpoint.

Mace Windu exhaled slowly. "Then for now, we wait."

Yoda nodded, eyes narrowing.

"Wait, we shall. Guide us, the Force will."

And with that, the search was abandoned before it could even begin.