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Dusk was the easiest time for Rey to pretend that she felt nothing.

She would sit on top of a dune as the twin suns fell beneath the horizon. She would cross her legs, close her eyes, and imagine that with each exhale, she was emptying out to join the wind. She would welcome the night chill on her skin. Even the sand scorpions gave her a wide berth as she sat, sometimes all night, until her limbs were numb.

It didn’t make her feel at peace. She didn’t even enjoy it. But it was the easiest way to keep the shadows at bay, at least without blacking out on revnog. She did that sometimes too.

But she would have no quiet this evening. Footsteps scraped in the sand behind her.

“Rey?”

She turned. “Hi, Finn. Been a while.”

He crossed his arms. “It has. You’ve disappeared for a year. It wasn’t easy, tracking you down.”

“No, I don’t suppose it was.” If he was waiting for an explanation, one wasn’t coming.

He looked closer at her. “Are you alright?”

Rey mustered a smile as best as she could. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be? The war’s over.”

“Right.” Something about his tone gave her pause.

“Don’t tell me the First Order is somehow back.”

“No, nothing like that, thankfully. But we may have another problem on our hands.”

Rey frowned. “What kind of problem?”

“Maybe we’d better go inside and sit down.”

Finn swirled his blue milk around and stared into it as he explained. “We have little idea of what’s really going on, but the consequences are increasing every day. Radiation we’ve never seen before is shredding atmospheres. Whole stars engulfed in solar storms. Navigation systems are haywire. Hyperlanes millennia-old are fragmenting.”

His dark eyes were stormy as they met Rey’s. “Whatever it is, it’s picked up many names. The Anomaly. The Singularity. Our mathematicians like the Threshold.”

“The Threshold?”

“The point in a system when it tips from order to chaos, perhaps irreversibly.”

Rey took a deep breath. “Well, good luck to your scientists, then. Hope they figure something out.”

“They’re nowhere near even understanding the nature of this thing, Rey. No, I came to find you.”

“Me? What could I possibly do?”

“Haven’t you felt it?”

“Felt what?”

“Even I’ve felt it. There’s a…a crisis in the Force. It must be connected. You’re the only person left in the galaxy capable of dealing with something like that.” Finn shook his head. “How could you not feel it?”

Rey’s gaze was icy. “I feel nothing. I cut myself off from the Force.”

“You what?” But even as Finn stammered in disbelief, he could feel what she meant. He reached out, and there was nothing but a blank void where Rey was sitting. 

“Like I said,” Rey stood, “good luck to your scientists. Thank you for visiting me.”

“Rey, we need you,” Finn protested as she started to walk away. “The galaxy needs you.”

The galaxy. Rey squeezed her eyes shut and rested her hand on the door. The galaxy needed her. There was a time, not too long ago, when that thought would have filled her with excitement, a real sense of purpose. But what did the galaxy ever give her in return?

She looked out at the night sky, at the stars she once dreamed of touching. With a jolt of unease, she realized they were wrong. The constellations she had learned since moving here were jumbled and off-kilter, like a careless child had swept his hand through them. 

She glanced at Finn. “Where should I start?”

“The Deep Core,” Poe said. He looked utterly at home piloting the New Republic corvette.

“Are you sure?” Rey asked from the co-pilot’s seat. She tried to calm her nerves by busying herself with a panel of switches, trying to lose herself in the clicks and whirs of a well-maintained starship.

“That’s where all the radiation is coming from,” Poe said. “Plus, the Jedi here says his feelings agree.” He jabbed his thumb at Finn, who shot Poe a glare but nodded.

The corvette dropped back into realspace with a shudder that made Poe grit his teeth. Rey stared ahead at the bright, glittering swirl of stars and interstellar dust.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to go with you?” Rose asked one last time.

“No…I think this is something I have to do alone.”

Rose nodded and, after the hundredth check of Rey’s utility belt, hugged her tightly. “May the Force be with you.”

Rey didn’t have the heart to say that honestly, she wished it wasn’t.

The X-wing whined softly as it flew into the nebula. It wasn’t long before the instruments on her console began to flicker, their readings growing erratic. She had heard that the Deep Core did strange things to your ship from spacers before, and Finn’s Threshold probably wasn’t helping.

Sweat dripped down her nose as she fought to keep control of her starfighter. Plumes of fire washed over her viewport, and gravitational wells from unseen sources yanked her in every direction. Something knocked in the back of her mind, but she refused to let it in.

Her left engine was failing. An S-foil on the right twisted, threatening to rip itself off. She could see the nose of the ship starting to melt, and her shields swung from 15% to 50 and then to 5. She could fight it no longer. She closed her eyes and finally allowed the Force to claim her once more.

It felt like waking up. No, more than that. It felt like coming alive. Every vein in her body was electrified as the energy of the universe surged through her once more.

When she finally came back to herself, the X-wing was drifting in orbit around a planet. Space around her was not dark, but suffused with golden light, like she was floating in pure sunshine. The planet below was pale rock, its surface crisscrossed with fractures. Where fractures met, geysers threw luminous energy into space, strands branching out into the atmosphere like great trees.

She had never been here before, but she knew this world. Late nights poring over the ancient Jedi texts returned to her memory. This was what they had called the Wellspring of Life, the birthplace of the Living Force itself.

What was in none of those old books, though, was the chasm that ringed the planet, wider and deeper and darker than the other fractures. An ugly scar. It was not just the planet: clouds of dark gases spewed from the chasm and streaked through the nebula. It looked like some great blade had slashed through the fabric of the galaxy. Now that she had opened back up to the Force, she could feel what Finn was talking about. The aura emanating from this scar simply felt wrong, the way she had felt when the constellations on Tatooine looked off. Down to the very core of her being, she knew that this was not how it should be.

Rey flew down planetside, steering clear of the chasm. Even so, she felt like the molecules in her body were starting to unravel. She descended through one of the geysers of light and found a lush jungle, full of creatures unlike anything she had ever seen before. Massive ferns freckled with pulsating bulbous growths leaned out of her way, and a distant howl echoed through the trees. She landed and emerged from the cockpit, feeling the soft earth beneath her boots. She looked closer at a leaf, and before her eyes, it withered and crumbled into dust.

“Rey.” A voice echoed around her.

She glanced up to see an orb of light floating towards her. With a flash, it materialized into a floating female figure. She was dressed simply in a black robe, a pale mask covering her face so that only two glowing eyes stared out. The mouth was twisted into an uneasy expression. 

“Who are you?” Rey asked, her hand drifting towards her lightsaber hilt.

“Who are you, Rey?” the figure retorted. She sounded almost…desperate.

“You just said my name.”

“Name? What use is a name?” She floated closer, even panicked now. “Tell me who you are!”

“I…” Who was Rey? A Jedi? A war hero? Or, as much as she tried to deceive herself, she was and always would be just nobody? A girl, waiting forever for someone to finally come back?

Rey tried to shake the thought from her head. “I don’t have time for riddles. I’ve come to–”

“You do not know who you are. You do not know where you come from. You do not know where you are going, and you do not know what you want. I cannot help you.” The being turned and started to leave.

“Hey, wait! Come back!” As much as Rey shouted, the being did not listen. Losing her patience, she ignited her lightsaber and lunged. Her blade cut through the body like it was nothing, and an empty robe fluttered to the ground.

Something slammed into her, sending her tumbling. Another being, wheeling around for another blow, identical except her mask was contorted with fury. “You failed!” she shrieked. “When it mattered most, you failed!”

“What are you talking about?” Rey growled, swinging her lightsaber wildly.

“You know,” the being hissed. “It is your fault. You could not save him.”

Unbidden, images flashed through Rey’s mind. Images she had fought to suppress for so long. A dark cavern, a jagged throne, a body suddenly cold in her arms.

Rey screamed, and the being was violently hurled backwards. She dissolved into shadows.

Rey’s heart was pounding. She could barely breathe. Someone was sobbing softly behind her.

She turned to find yet another being, curled up on the ground. When she lifted her face, her mask was drawn in despair. “Lost,” she wailed. “It is all lost. Corruption rots the galaxy from its heart.”

The Threshold. Finally, some answers. “Did it start here, in the Deep Core, then?” Rey demanded. “What do you know?”

“The heart of the galaxy is torn,” the being wept. “Your heart is torn.”

“What?”

The being’s glowing eyes met Rey’s, and suddenly she was painfully aware once more of the heaviness that settled on her constantly, like an old coat. A yawning pit of emptiness opened in her stomach, and she knew she could fall through it forever.

“Stop it,” Rey gasped. “You’re…you’re doing this to me. I’m fine.”

“Of course you are!” A peal of laughter rang out. Rey looked up to see another figure, her mask bearing a too-large grin. “You won. Your enemies are dead. You should be overjoyed!”

“Right,” Rey said numbly. “My enemy is dead.”

The being threw back her head in laughter, and it sounded like Rose, like Poe, like Finn. Rey remembered standing in the midst of celebration on Ajan Kloss, exhausted and stained with blood, both her blood and his. She had never felt more alone.

“Stop it!” Rey shouted, sinking to her knees. “Can’t you see that the galaxy is falling apart? Why are you torturing me with this?”

Silence answered her, broken only by her hitched, rapid breathing.

Then, a final being appeared in front of her, her mask placid, neutral. “You come to seek a solution to the galaxy’s sickness.”

“Yes.” Rey took a shuddering breath. “So stop…stop bringing up the past. It’s irrelevant.”

“Irrelevant?” the being asked. “There is nothing more relevant. All things are bound together in the Force.”

“Tell me how.”

The being raised her arms, and her four cousins appeared once more by her side in flashes of light. Rey realized now that she had read about them, too. Master Yoda had written about a strange, otherworldly experience when he encountered five priestesses of the Force. Confusion, Anger, Sadness, Joy, and Serenity.

“The Whills keep the story,” Serenity declared. “The story has gone awry. The emperor overstepped the bounds of life and death.”

“He’s dead now,” Rey said. “I did it myself.”

“Yes, and the last Skywalker with him. The bloodline of the Chosen One is dead.”

“He did it to save me,” Rey whispered.

“You blame yourself,” Serenity said. “You should not. But the dark has slain the light. Reality groans in response. Things are not right. Things must be set right.”

“All of this…is because he died?”

“Heal your soul. Heal the galaxy.”

Rey shook her head. She felt like throwing up. “It’s impossible. The Jedi unlocked the secrets of life beyond death, but no one has ever crossed back over.”

“He has not entered the Cosmic Force. Not yet. He is lost. Adrift.”

“How do I find him, then?”

“The same way you find anyone. Call his name.”

“Ben.” The name had not crossed her lips in a year. It was barely more than a breath now.

“Anyone can say a syllable. But call him truly, at the site of the wound, and he will hear.”

“At the site of the…” Rey shivered. “I can’t go back there.”

“You must.”

Rey didn’t want to. She was filled with a sudden urge to just run and never look back. She wanted to sink back into numbness. She was afraid the darkness would consume her if she faced it again. “Someone else. Please.”

“There is no one else.”

The ground started to crumble away beneath her. Soon, all would be lost.

“You have come to the Threshold,” Serenity said gently. “They are meant to be crossed.”

Rey lifted her eyes to see the scar marring the landscape stretching towards her. As it opened up, she could see the barren lands of Exegol beyond.

The amphitheater was exactly as she had left it, an undisturbed memorial. Her footsteps echoed in the dark. Even his clothes were still there, rumpled on the ground. She sank down next to them and pressed her face to them. His scent still clung to the fabric.

“Come back,” she whispered hoarsely. “Please, Ben. Just come back.”

Nothing happened. Utter silence, except for her tears dripping onto the stone.

She pressed her hand to the ground, as if she could claw it open and force it to give back what it had taken from her. The Dark Side still flooded the cavern, and she felt its cold currents around her now.

She allowed herself to sink into its depths. The fear, anger, and grief she had kept at bay for a year crashed over her now, like a dam had broken. She was drowning.

Even as she was buffeted by the billows of that dark sea, a faint light glimmered in the distance. She thrashed toward it desperately, fighting with all her strength. As she reached out, fingertips brushed against her own.

But something else, something stronger than her, was pulling too. A spiderweb of choking tendrils, decades of painstakingly woven schemes by Palpatine. They wrapped around him, binding him, claiming him.

Rey refused to allow them to have him. She was the only one who knew his soul, and she refused to let it belong to any other.

She could see now why no one else would have been able to call him. She called him, not just his name, but everything he was. She called a boy who had never been allowed to live, tormented from birth by ghosts in his mind. She called on fingers gently touching over a fire, across the stars and never closer. She called the one companion her soul had ever found, the only person who had truly understood. She called on a battle in the bowels of the earth, facing impossible odds but facing them with him. She called on finding him at last, and then losing him again.

She called on them. A power like life itself. The ground split open under the force of her will and new growth pushed through.

The shirt grew warm under her fingers. A heartbeat, weak but steady. A first breath, as nothing became something again.

“Hi,” Ben murmured.

Rey couldn’t respond. She threw her arms around his neck and sobbed into his chest. He was solid, and he was real, and he was with her.

“You came back,” she finally managed.

“Of course,” he whispered. “You came back for me.”

He held her as the stones of Exegol cracked open and a forest unfurled, death giving way to life. The perpetual storm above the planet dissipated, and starlight kissed the ground for the first time in millennia. Rey felt the wound in the Force close like a note struck in perfect harmony against her sternum.

They were together again, and nothing would ever tear them apart again. Two halves of one. All things set right at last.