This is a dream. It must be a dream, he thinks, swimming hazy in a pond of memories.

And then he surfaces, brutal and sharp and sudden, and Bo-Katan is there holding his face in her hands, her own face stricken in a way he didn't know it could be, her words like a memory still processing.

"You come back," he hears, and he hears it again and again and he starts to push himself up. The armor is the weapon. The body is how you use it.

"I'm here," he says, and it's distant too, but it's real.