What if Anakin Skywalker Trained Ahsoka AND Starkiller

What if Anakin Skywalker Trained Ahsoka AND Starkiller? Let’s explore the depths of it in the video.

Firelight flickers off the jagged remains of ruined buildings, casting long, shifting shadows. Smoke coils through the air, thick and suffocating. The boy runs.

His breath burns in his throat, his heart pounding an erratic rhythm against his ribs. His legs ache, but he forces himself forward. Behind him, something hunts.

He doesn’t know what it is. He doesn’t want to know. He only knows what it has done.

The memory burns as vividly as the flames consuming the settlement. His mother, reaching for him, her lips forming words she never gets to say. His father, stepping between them and the monster, only to be cast aside like he was nothing. The light leaving their eyes. The cold finality of it.

They had fought. He didn’t understand how, but they had wielded power beyond anything he had ever seen—before they fell to the glowing blades.

And then, the sound—the awful, scraping clatter of metal limbs against stone. The predator’s voice, guttural and mocking, calling to him through the ruined streets.

He runs.

The settlement is a maze of shattered homes and collapsed bridges, a skeleton of what was once whole. He stumbles over a broken walkway, his palms scraping against the debris-strewn ground. A shadow looms—he rolls, barely avoiding the creatures gaze.

He doesn’t stop to look. He forces himself up, lungs burning, and sprints into the remains of a hollowed-out building. It barely stands, held together by fractured walls and beams too warped to support their weight. A dead end.

The thing behind him knows this. It steps forward, slow, deliberate, letting him hear every precise movement of its body. He presses himself against the far wall, panting, searching desperately for escape. There is none.

A voice, low and filled with cruel amusement rattles the fragile structure.

Grievous: “There is nowhere left to run, child.”

Terror surges through him, sharp and cold. His hands clench into fists. Something stirs inside him, deep, overwhelming. A force unlike anything he has ever felt. It coils in his chest, waiting. Building.

The monster steps closer, raising a clawed hand for the kill.

The boy screams.

The air around him explodes outward. The towering figure freezes, as if trapped in invisible binds. Its mechanical limbs twitch, struggling, but it cannot move. The boy’s hands tremble, his breath ragged, but something inside him has awakened.

The pressure builds. The monster crumples inward, metal shrieking as it collapses in on itself, crushed by an unseen force. Its body folds, sparks erupting as joints snap and metal plating implodes.

It lets out a final, metallic shriek—but the boy does not stop.

The walls tremble. The ceiling collapses.

A thunderous roar fills the air as the building comes down.

Darkness.

Then—

Galen wakes, gasping, the hum of a starship’s engines grounding him in reality. Sweat clings to his skin, his fingers twitching as if still trapped beneath the rubble. His breath slows, his mind catching up with where he is. Safe. Just a dream… a nightmare… a memory half forgotten, but never willing to let him rest.

The Jedi Temple’s sparring arena hums with the sound of lightsabers clashing, the blue and green blades a blur of movement as they meet in rapid succession.
From a balcony above, three Jedi Masters observe in silence. Obi-Wan Kenobi stands with his arms crossed, expression unreadable. Beside him, Mace Windu remains still, hands clasped behind his back, his gaze sharp. Yoda, sitting on his hoverchair, watches with half-lidded eyes, but there is no mistaking the intent in his observation.
Obi: “He is improving,”
Obi-Wan says after a long pause, nodding toward Anakin, who stands between his two Padawans, correcting their stances as they reset for another round.
Mace: “But will he learn? That is the question.”
Yoda taps a clawed finger against his gimer stick.
Yoda: “Patience, he must have. Control, he must teach. Two apprentices, different they are. Balance, Anakin must find, within himself and in training them both.”
His ears twitch as he watches the younger apprentice—Galen—step back, his body tensed like a coiled spring. After time and many trials, the boy was clearly more receptive to Anakin than other more experienced knights.
Yoda: “Much like Skywalker, this boy is.”
Mace: “Dangerous, you mean”
Mace adds.
Mace: “You saw what he did when he was found. The raw power he unleashed.”
Obi-Wan exhales. “That’s why he needs a Master. Leaving him untrained isn’t an option. He’s had a… difficult time… his age has created convictions, a lack of companions, the death of his parents, he barely sleeps, he has trouble with impulsivity. ”
Mace’s expression hardens.
Mace: “And yet we assign him to the one Jedi least capable of restraint.”
He pauses, his gaze ice cold.
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