Eyes awoke to a white room, yet felt too crusted and heavy to keep open. Sleep took him once again.

The second time waking was more energized. To the right was an IV directly hooked to his forearm. A heartrate monitor beeped to his left. There was a medical droid with a food tray.

"Starch carbs and fowl protein," it said leaving the tray and putting on its display screen across where a face would be a digitally pixelated pattern of a smile beneath two eyes. It then rolled away on a wheel where legs would normally go.

Creon tried to sit up but winced at the sudden jolt down his spine and across his back. He slumped back into the bed and felt out the rest of his body. The stiffness of his movements and hazyness of his mind suggested dehydration despite the IV. His limbs hurt as if they were sore and heavy when he tried to move them.

Thinking back, his memory which led to these circumstances were unclear. In fact, thinking back to anything recent brought a migraine. Instead he reoriented his focus to the current situation at hand, and where to go from here. Throughout his thinking the stillness of his recovering body and planning sleep took him once more.

A droid with a feminine toned voice spake and woke Creon, "CK-12097, your support has expired. I must ask that you leave the premises."

Creon groaned from the cut-off of his sleeping. *Do they not have the courtesy to value the delicate undisturbed length of sleep proportion to recovery rate?*

He tried to move, and his limbs still felt heavy. The IV and heart rate monitor was being removed.

"I have insurance," Creon said.

"We know. There is a policy in which the cause of your hospitalization is divided into specific credit limits, and it has been fully spent from your account," the protocol droid answered.

"So when they say 'Full Coverage' it's a bunch of bantha fodder," Creon cursed.

He was able to sit up again, but his lower back felt like it was made of caked soot. "Well, has there been any other untreated diagnosis apart from the covered injury."

"Quite... In fact you are in a terminal state with approximately a few days left to live."

Creon sunk back into the bed and stared up at the white ceiling. His whole life had sunk in.

"What's killing me?"

"Cancer"

"We have cures for that."

"Not for you. Your midichlorian count is too high, they reject the compound."

"Surgically?"

"You can't afford it."

"Seriously?!"

"Your insurance coverage policy for-"

"Oh can it, clanker! What's the number for the surgery?"

The droid said a cost amount that made Creon's jaw drop. It took ever asset he owned and help from clan mates to pay. The surgery took place and in the end he was cured, but a looming fury was seeded into Creon's mind. A dark temptation of vengeance beguiled the desire to strip the lives of those who denied the insurance he invested upon. He paid more into what never followed through with the promised deal. Someday, when he is at a higher place, perhaps the power of wrath will find its way to the company that betrayed him.

Spirits unbound, wisps of time, bleed through into our reality. I saw all what came before and what is to come. The wisdom of history was brought by the past, and a depth of understanding on our nature. It gave to me the voices of the dead in waves through a sea of pages. Phantoms of all who came before my birth since time immemorial innumerably immeasurable. They invite me to join a doom inevitable to come. Then they formed into one, a familiar friend I left behind.

That’s when tomorrow whispered, “It will always be.”

I jolted at the sudden chill that followed. Tomorrow looked like the one I feared. But I knew... Ever since the calendar we have had a linear perspective on the progression of time. It was based off motion; solely defined as a measure of displacement. Not some phenomenon or form of energy in nature. That would then explain how the Jedi learned to time travel. To go to the past, there would need to be an akashic record of information archiving observation and record of all motion that has ever transpired in order to perfectly reverse it to the intended destination. Night Omnipotence, as ever growing as freedom flies between the balance of order and chaos as present becomes past motioning into the future.

Was it the Force?

It’s mind-boggling enough to try and explain how organelles transfer energy from a separate dimension that twists reality to the will of one’s mere intent of applied attention, let alone see a new dimension where the past can be traveled to by taking the hall on the left. The World Between Worlds was home to these spirits, and they sensed in my heart qualities they tried to magnify and reflect. The bonds between good friends, romance, family, and something compassionately egalitarian in a more radical and existential sense. Those connections made during the course of one’s life. Yet the past distracts me from the now, which was where I prefer to maintain my focus.

It wasn’t looking to the future, though divination gave guidance on what to expect. This is always a useful tool, like a compass and a map, but never to distract from the environment you can sense. What tethers you to the present is something neither apparition could inflict Terror upon my mind in the Force. That’s when the illusion shattered, for it fell apart the more one thought about it.

They were vulnerable and afraid, offering me qualities in exchange for mercy. The past offered wisdom, but also propaganda with opinionated adjectives. The future just didn’t make sense to me at all. So I killed them both and kept walking.

“Stay steady,” the present said, which was the Sadowan that led me through the winding ways of the World Between Worlds.

“I almost lost you again,” I told him “I thought there was only one way in and one way out.

“That doesn’t mean you’re alone here. Not at all.” Which filled me with both wonder and terror.

“I want to belong here.” I said.

He then told me: “break my fall.”

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