The Multiverse Hunter

"Hey… HEY!"

"What?" Ali's voice was muffled, his tone exuding mild irritation as he remained under the soft black and gold sheets.

"I need to go to the bathroom."

"And?" Ali responded lazily, not even bothering to look in her direction.

"What do you mean and? I'm chained to the bed!" the witch shouted, her voice rising with frustration. She tugged against the chain for emphasis, her anger flaring at his dismissive attitude.

CLACK.

The sound of the lock disengaging made her freeze mid-motion. She blinked in surprise before realising her wrist was suddenly free.

Tentatively, she pulled her hand away from the chain, rubbing her sore wrist as she glared at the motionless figure under the covers.

"Drogath is outside," Ali said, his voice calm but firm. "If he sees you wandering around, he might lose control and destroy this ship, killing us both in the process."

He shifted slightly and tugged the sheet over his head, as if to signal the end of the conversation. The witch stared at him for a long moment, torn between her instinct to escape and the pragmatic realisation of her current predicament.

After a few tense seconds, she let out a frustrated huff and made her way to the bathroom, closing the door behind her with a sharp click.

Half an hour passed before the bathroom door creaked open, and the witch emerged. She glanced cautiously at the Sith Warrior, who still lay under the sheets, unmoving and seemingly sleeping.

Deciding to test her luck, she padded softly toward the closet and opened it, peering inside. Her eyes landed on a pair of lightsabers resting on the top shelf alongside a set of sleek, polished desert eagle pistols.

Her gaze flickered back to Ali. He hadn't stirred. 'Is he really asleep? Or is he just pretending?' she wondered, her mind racing. Reaching out, she carefully picked up one of the pistols. Its weight surprised her—it was much heavier than she'd expected.

'How does he even use this?' she thought, marvelling at the weapon's solid craftsmanship. She tested its balance in her hand but soon sighed, realising the futility of her curiosity.

'What am I even doing?' With a resigned expression, she placed the gun back in its original position and quietly shut the closet.

Deciding to bide her time, she walked back to the bed and perched on its edge. Crossing her legs, she began channeling her energy. Deep green lights hovered around her hands, swirling and glowing softly as she focused on her magic.

The familiar exercise helped calm her turbulent emotions. She maintained this state for hours, her mind alternating between anger, frustration, and reluctant acceptance of her current situation.

Eventually, drowsiness crept in, and her resolve waned. She surrendered to exhaustion and laid down at the very edge of the bed, careful to face Ali's back.

Six hours later.

The witch stirred as she felt movement in the room. Her eyes snapped open, and she sat up quickly, her gaze darting to Ali. He was no longer lying down but standing by the mirror, dressing himself.

She observed him silently as he buttoned his uniform, the sharp lines of his tailored black attire accentuating his broad shoulders and muscular frame.

His hair, still damp, clung to his forehead as he combed it back smoothly. She watched with mild fascination as he reached behind his head and untied the strip of green silk covering his eyes. He opened them slowly, his fingers carefully pulling back his eyelids.

Ali studied his reflection for a moment, noting that the redness in his right eye had faded. 'It seems I'm recovering from using it faster with every use', he though. He adjusted his uniform collar and picked up his signature red mask from the nearby table.

Turning toward the bed, he noticed the witch staring at him, her deep green eyes filled with defiance despite her grogginess. "What's your name?" he asked abruptly.

She glared at him. "Why do you care?" she shot back, her tone dripping with disdain.

Ali shrugged, entirely unaffected by her hostility. "It's really up to you. I'll just call you Slave or Bald Witch," he said mockingly as he secured his mask over his face.

The witch bristled at his words but said nothing as Ali turned and left the room. Outside, he found Drogath sitting near the cockpit, a plate of food in hand.

The giant's attention, however, was fixed on the view outside the ship's windows. His expression was solemn as he stared at the approaching planet, his home-world of Vorrangar.

"My lord, we are ready to land. I've already alerted them of our arrival," the pilot reported from the cockpit, his voice steady and professional.

"Take your time with the landing," Ali ordered, his tone calm. He headed toward a small storage room at the back of the ship. Inside, he retrieved a black luggage bag and carried it back to his quarters.

The witch looked up as Ali reentered the room, her eyes narrowing in suspicion as he threw the luggage bag onto the bed beside her. "Get dressed. You're coming with me," he ordered curtly.

She hesitated, her expression softening slightly. "Let me go," she said quietly, her voice lacking the sharpness of her earlier demands.

Ali's response was cold and dismissive. "No. Just be grateful you're my slave."

Her anger flared instantly. "WHO would be grateful to be owned by someone?" she shouted, her voice rising enough to reach the cockpit. Drogath and the pilot exchanged puzzled glances, unsure of what was happening behind the closed doors.

Ali let out a quiet, almost mocking chuckle before stepping closer to her. "I had three options," he muttered. "Kill you…"

He took another step forward, his voice lowering as his gaze bored into hers. "Send you to Korriban, where the Sith would tear you apart in their experiments…"

She shrank slightly under his piercing stare as he closed the remaining distance between them. His next words were almost a whisper. "Or make you a weapon against the Jedi, as I promised my superiors. The last option was the only way to keep you from ending up on Korriban."

He stepped back, giving her space. "So, get dressed and stop asking me to release you. You won't like the alternative."

The witch remained silent for a long moment, her thoughts racing. Finally, she spoke, her voice subdued. "My name's Renella."

Ali paused at the door, his hand on the control panel. Without turning back, he replied, "Noted." He left the room and headed toward the dining area.

On Vorrangar, in the tallest white tower of the Empire's dominion, a blond man stood in the highest chamber. His red eyes burned with anger as he stared out of a glass wall, surveying the impoverished homes of the giant, purple-skinned aliens he ruled over.

"Fuck this fucking planet," he muttered under his breath, his fists clenching so tightly that the furniture in the room began to shake under the influence of his Force aura.

Behind him, a naked woman stirred on the bed. She propped herself up lazily and addressed him in a sultry voice. "Darling… What's wrong?"

The man turned sharply, his expression twisting into one of fury. "Darling? Who the fuck do you think you're talking to, you whore?" he snarled. With a flick of his hand, the Force gripped her neck and twisted it violently. The sickening crack of bone echoed through the room as her lifeless body collapsed.

"I am a noble. A Sith Warrior. And they throw me into this shithole for resources?" His voice was venomous as the Force around him grew increasingly chaotic. "They will pay for this humiliation…"

A beep from his comms device interrupted his tirade. "My lord, a ship is landing in the imperial hangar," came a voice from the other end.

"Who is it?" he asked, his curiosity piqued. Few visited Vorrangar.

"It belongs to Sith Warrior Ali."

The blond Sith frowned. 'Ali? Who is that? I've never heard of a Sith Warrior by that name'. His expression shifted as a new thought crossed his mind. 'Maybe he's here to replace me…' The idea filled him with a mix of hope and dread.

In the hangar, Ali's black spaceship landed smoothly, its ramp extending to the ground. Drogath was the first to emerge, his black uniform fitting snugly over his massive frame. His axe rested on his back, and he took a deep breath, savouring the air of his home-world.

Ali followed closely behind, with Renella trailing reluctantly. The black uniform she now wore struggled to conceal her voluptuous curves, drawing glances from the hangar staff.

"Why are we here?" Renella asked in a hushed voice, leaning toward Ali.

"This is Drogath's home," Ali replied, his tone clipped. "It'll help him regain control of the Force. And I need a quiet place to work." Without waiting for a response, he strode forward.

Author here, I have already started the final battle and I am very close to finishing this arc in a couple chapters. Hope u enjoy the finale amd as always…..

Please donate some of your power stones, it would help my ff massively.

Five chapters ahead of webnovel on patreon.com/Rondo312