Anakin almost relaxed. When you knew what kind of weird you were dealing with, at least you had direction.
But then his face, shoulders, all of him practically crumpled in defeat. New Republic tech?
Because she wasn’t just from the network- “We’re from the same universe,” he said. If he had a lightsaber to throw over his shoulders he’d do it with Skywalker dramatic flare.
“Nope,” he said, turning away, and into a feeling of great resistance despite encountering just air. “You should stay away from me.”
Why did it just feel wrong to turn away? Okay, fine. “Weird” wanted this, here, right now, in a motorcycle parts shop? Fine.
He turned back with great ease. He finally took off his sunglasses. “I am your Antichrist- or whatever you call it when there is no Jesus. Your- your- your anti-savior, I guess, or just Space Satan,” he pleaded. “I didn’t want to be that. And I’m sorry. I can’t change it. I just want to be left alone. I stay away from you, you stay away from me. Deal?”
Oddly enough, even after saying all this, he felt no peace.