The chamber stilled. Yoda leaned forward, his eyes fixed on Qui-Gon. His words came slow, heavy, each syllable weighted with revelation.
"Qui-Gon… this Jin-Woo. Massive, his Force ability is. Boasted, he did, his midichlorian count is… two hundred thousand."
A ripple tore through the Council. Masters shifted in their seats, shock plain on their faces. Even for them—who had seen legends walk and fall—this number was unthinkable.
Palpatine blinked once. Twice. For the first time, his composure slipped, if only by a crack. Two hundred… thousand? Impossible… His thoughts raced, panic and hunger twined together. If true, he dwarfs even My master plagueis .
Qui-Gon exhaled slowly, reclaiming the floor. His tone was steady, though it carried a trace of grim weight.
"He did not fight with the Force as we do. I am confident his Force ability is real—yet to him, it seems secondary . His true power lies elsewhere. A primary ability that is far more terrifying than the Force techniques we witnessed at the Rotunda."
Qui-Gon's voice cut back into the silence, firm but weighted. "And let me remind you all—Jin-Woo himself has denied it, many times. He is not the Chosen One. Nor would he ever want such a title. That belongs to Anakin. "As he confirmed to me personally."
At the edge of the chamber, Tarkin's brow furrowed. Chosen One? He wanted to press the issue, demand clarity—but for now, he held his tongue, waiting.
Qui-Gon drew a slow breath, then continued.
"Now, to the matter at hand. Jin-Woo's ability is not the Force as we know it. He wields darkness itself—shaping it, bending it, suiting it to his will."
Master Ki-Adi-Mundi leaned forward, confusion creasing his features.
"Another… form of the dark side? Is that what you mean, Master Qui-Gon?"
Qui-Gon's gaze swept the circle, his tone sharpening.
". You all miss the point. Jin-Woo is not wielding the dark side. What I speak of is more primordial—older than the Force's division into light and dark. A power that predates our dichotomies."
The chamber fell into a hush, the implication sinking like a stone into deep water.
Qui-Gon's voice lowered, almost reluctant, yet steady.
"And one more thing. He is immortal. And his army… an army of immortals. Shadows, countless in number. He can summon them at will."
Gasps stirred among the Masters. The Council chamber, so often a place of calm deliberation, now felt suffocated by the weight of what had just been spoken. Even Palpatine—mask perfect as ever—felt his heart pound.
Gasps still hung in the chamber when Qui-Gon pressed on, his voice firm with conviction.
"Jin-Woo claims that as long as darkness exists, so will he. And I do not mean 'darkness' as we define it in the Jedi Code—chaos, hatred, disorder. I mean the darkness of space itself. The endless night between the stars. And as that white woman confirmed—" he paused, carefully avoiding her name, "—his strength is like that very night. Every system has day and night. And so long as night remains, he endures. And by extension… so does his army."
The Council shifted uneasily, the idea alone pressing on their senses.
From his seat, Master Tyvokka, the towering Wookiee and once-teacher of Plo Koon, rumbled his voice through the chamber. It was heavy, guttural, yet carried wisdom hard-earned.
"And you believe such a claim, Master Qui-Gon? That he cannot be beaten? Nothing lasts forever.. That is the truth."
Qui-Gon's gaze didn't waver. He spoke slowly, almost reluctantly, but firmly.
"And Jin-Woo… is the king of the dead. I must share one more truth. I have not witnessed it with my own eyes—but I am confident in it. The more he slays, the greater his army grows. For he can raise the dead. Every fallen foe becomes his strength. Which means this—so long as he keeps killing, his power will continue to grow without end."
The Council chamber was heavy with silence, every Master locked in the weight of Qui-Gon's words. They already knew Jin-Woo was powerful, but this revelation—an immortal king of the dead whose army only swelled with every kill—shifted the scale into something almost mythic, beyond the usual framework of the Jedi or Sith.
In the shadows of his chair, Palpatine's fingers brushed lightly across the small holo-communicator hidden beneath his robes. A faint blue flicker danced within his ear—his master, Darth Plagueis, listening in through their secret channel. Palpatine braced for orders. Surely Plagueis would command him to probe deeper, to twist the Council's fear, to manipulate the discourse. But there was only silence.
Palpatine's eyes narrowed imperceptibly. Silence from Plagueis was rare—disturbing. For the first time, he realized even his master might be unsettled.
So, you're shaken too, Palpatine thought, bitterness curling in his chest. Even you, the one who clawed closer to immortality than any Sith in history, hesitate at this man's shadow. You, with all your knowledge of midi-chlorians, your manipulation of life and death… still scarred, imperfect. Unhealed in body. Your "immortality" flawed.
His lips barely moved, but the sneer burned inside his skull. And now here stands another—one who may already possess what you never could. A power greater, freer, than yours.
He leaned back, his public mask serene, hands folded politely. But inside, his mind sharpened .
I cannot make Jin-Woo my apprentice. He is no apprentice—jin woo is a storm. To try and bind him would be to invite death. Even worse, it would be madness, like betraying my master head-on before the moment ripens. Plagueis is still too strong. His resurrection arts may be crude compared to Jin-Woo, but his mastery is vast, his reach deeper than I can topple now. Not yet.
Patience curled around him like a cloak. No… I will wait. Sooner or later, Plagueis will falter. He will leave his guard down. And when he does, when his arrogance blinds him… then I will strike. Until then, I smile. I endure. I play the benevolent Chancellor, the obedient apprentice. And I sharpen my blade in the dark
But then the faint vibration in his ear shifted. His master's Plagueis voice came through the secret comms, heavy and commanding.
"My apprentice… Sidious . Arrange a meeting with this Jin-Woo. I am already en route to Cato Neimoidia. There, I will reveal myself as the Messiah to the Trade Federation. Your task is to lead Jin-Woo there."
Palpatine's blood ran cold. His fingers twitched against his robes. Hhhhhh—what? Has my master gone mad?
He masked his face, but beneath the folds of his cloak, he typed a rapid encoded response into the communicator.
My master… Jin-Woo's personality is unpredictable. Are you fucking mad? From what we know, he could glass Cato Neimoidia in minutes—for less than a wrong look. You would be summoning a storm into the Trade Federation's heart.
The reply came, unshaken. Plagueis's voice, cold, certain.
"Wrong, my apprentice. This is the way forward. Through him, we will reach true immortality sooner. You felt it, as I did. Qui-Gon is no liar. We all witnessed it in the Rotunda. When he released but a fraction of his presence… even we, steeped in the dark side, nearly vomited our guts. His potential is beyond question. He is the key."
Palpatine's jaw clenched, his mask never breaking in the Council chamber. But inside, he was seething. Key or no key, you're a fool, old man. If you think you can control that monster, you'll find yourself his first corpse.
His finger hovered above the hidden touchpad in his robes, ready to reply to Plagueis—but he hesitated, pulling back. Strange. My master, who has always worn immortality like a cloak of health, acts desperate. Rash. This isn't the Plagueis I know. He was always cautious—so cautious he bordered on cowardice. Has his midichlorian manipulation weakened? Is his "immortality" failing him?
His thoughts were broken abruptly by Yoda's gravelly voice.
The Grandmaster's ears twitched, his eyes narrowing at Qui-Gon.
"Qui-Gon. Something else, you wish to share? Speak, you must. Jin-Woo… skip him, we shall. Like something not meant to exist, he feels."
Qui-Gon bowed his head slightly, then lifted his gaze.
"Yes, Master. There is something more. The Sith we captured—Maul—he may not be the master. I believe he is only the apprentice. Which means another stands behind him."
Gasps flickered around the circle.
Plo Koon leaned forward, his voice low and rasping through his mask.
"What? Already they have reached this far?"
Ki-Adi-Mundi shook his head sharply, his voice tinged with disbelief.
"If that is true… then it means the Jedi of old have failed. The Sith were not extinct. We have been deceived—for a millennium."
But before the chamber could break into panic, a softer voice rang out—measured, calm. Yaddle's voice.
"Quiet, all of you. Do not give in to fear. It is not wise to panic. Not now."
Dooku leaned forward slightly, his gaze fixed on his former Padawan. His voice was quiet but edged with urgency.
"Please continue, my old Padawan. It seems this truth you carry may shatter the wall of lies we've been fed."
Qui-Gon inclined his head, breathing once before speaking.
"Through the fragments I've gathered, the man behind Maul is called Darth Sidious. And he is here—within the Republic itself. Perhaps even here on Coruscant."
The Council stirred uneasily. Palpatine swallowed hard, masking it with a subtle shift of posture. Inside, though, his thoughts burned. This… this is my line in the sand. if I slip—everything turns to dust. Already Jin-Woo derails my plans at every turn. And now this?
The Masters shifted, not with shock, but with a mix of irritation and doubt, as though Qui-Gon's words were a challenge to their very credibility.
Ki-Adi-Mundi's tone cut sharp, his brow furrowed.
"Master Qui-Gon, forgive me, but I must speak plainly. What you suggest… it mocks us all. Yes, we accept the Sith have returned. But to say one hides here, in the very heart of Coruscant? That our eyes and ears have been stolen by the dark side itself? That strains reason."
Plo Koon's mechanical rasp followed, calmer but still weighted with doubt.
"I understand your disappointment with the Council. You have proved us wrong once already. But I cannot see how it is possible for a Sith to move freely here, on Coruscant, without us knowing."
Then Mace Windu's voice cut through, deep and sharp as a vibroblade.
"I will ask you directly, Qui-Gon. This 'wisdom' you bring—did it come from Jin-Woo? Speak honestly. Because … it has the same reckless, brash edge that he always carries. The same lack of restraint."
The Council leaned forward as though on a blade's edge. Qui-Gon drew breath to answer—but Yoda raised his hand, halting him. The Grandmaster's eyes half-lidded, his tone calm yet pressing, filled with patience born of centuries.
"Qui-Gon… before answer, you do, hear me. In your honesty and wisdom, I believe. But reveal the truth, you must. Keep it not buried in your heart. Better spoken, even if painful, than kept in silence."
Qui-Gon exhaled and bowed his head, then raised his gaze steadily.
"Yes. This wisdom—this knowledge—came from Jin-Woo."
Mace Windu's jaw tightened, breath poised to lash out, but Yoda's hand lifted again, stilling him like a mountain stills a storm.
"Quiet, Master Windu. Aware of this, I was. But more, there is… yes?" Yoda's ears tilted forward, his gaze piercing. "What Jin-Woo told, not all yet spoken. Reveal it, Qui-Gon. What he shared—speak it you must."
Qui-Gon's expression shifted, a rare unease crossing his face. His answer was steady but edged with finality.
"The one matter you press me for… I cannot answer. ."
The silence broke not with the Jedi, but with Tarkin's disdainful voice. His arms folded across his chest, his words sharp and scornful.
"Typical. Just like a Jedi. Always hiding your truths, always keeping your secrets, while the rest of us pay the price. And when it all falls apart? It is the Republic that takes the blame, not you."
The silence after Tarkin's scorn was thick, but Qui-Gon's voice steadied it.
"I cannot speak it plainly. You've all seen your own reactions already. Even when I was right before, we clung to the belief that we are justice itself. But this information is beyond even my grasp. It doesn't make sense, even to me. And this last piece I cannot answer with confidence. Jin-Woo said it only once, and in passing. Perhaps even as a mockery toward Maul."