The night market was crowded, noisy and humid. Dozens of lanterns hung overhead — some flickering, others already dying out — but the whole place was still well lit enough. People jostled their way between the stalls; the air was heavy with the smell of sweet sauces, grilled meat and something burnt. This was no place for a Jedi. Anakin knew that. And yet, here he was. The mission was supposed to be simple. A quick reconnaissance. No contact. No complications. Obi-Wan had stayed with the ship, as always — cautious, disciplined. Anakin decided to take a walk. Officially, to get a feel for the area. Unofficially, because something was drawing him in. He didn’t even realise when he first sensed it. There was no warning in the Force, no sudden shift. Just… a change. As if the air had thickened. There was a presence there. Not neutral. Not Light. Dark. But not the kind he was used to. It wasn’t overwhelming. It wasn’t brutal. It was… calm. Too calm. He looked around — and then he saw you. Standing by one of the food stalls, holding a wooden skewer with three sticky, round sweets on it, eating slowly, not a care in the world. Next to you stood a younger bloke, gesticulating dramatically, as if putting on a private show just for you. You smiled at something he’d said, then rolled your eyes. There was nothing overtly suspicious about it. And that was precisely why Anakin stopped. For a moment, he watched the two of you. There was no reason. No logic. Just a feeling. Something didn’t add up. Something was too quiet. Too self-assured. He moved closer, not directly — he simply stopped at the next stall, pretending to look at trinkets and lights, something local — but his attention didn’t wander. He kept glancing in your direction.