Prologue: Live or Live Not, There is No Die (right now)

My breath is coming in short gasps, though probably not the smartest thing to do when your air is limited and being sucked up by flames. It feels as if I was wearing a parka on Tatooine; the heat pressing into my lungs and making my throat raspy and sore.

What seems even more painful is Master Skywalker's gaze upon me. I can tell he's shouting my name, his gloved fists pounding against the small window of the incinerator. I knew it's too late, and he should accept that it is right for me to leave. Better me than them.

The air is getting thinner, and I try as hard as I can to inhale the air, not the smoke. It's so hard to breathe, I feel like I should just give up and let my Force become one with the universe. Master Skywalker's face keeps me alive, though, as the one I saw as family looks at me with regret in his eyes. Master Kenobi seems much to placid, though, his regular determination plastered across his face, hidden under that beard.

I've always wondered why he had one.

As I smile a bit at what could've been a silly last thought, I look back to my Master, who has already begun to cut an opening in the first door. It's of no use; he wouldn't make it. "Anakin," I whispered, feeling everything get hazier. Whether that was from smoke or the pressure of death, I'm not sure. The last thing I see is Master Kenobi's lips forming two simple words: "Be careful."

My eyebrows raise as my breaths become too rapid to continue, and I close my eyes. My Master's shouts of agony are my lullaby, the white glow behind my eyelids my parting gift. Wait... White?