The crimson blade hums softly in my gloved hand, casting a sinister glow upon my pale, almost grey, skin. The shadows of my hood deepen the hollows of my face, emphasizing the dark side corruption etched upon it. My green eyes, sharp and calculating, scan the space before me, anticipation swirling within. The Force thrums with potential, with power, with the possibility of moulding a certain young Padawan now chained to the floor.