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The Force was a difficult thing to understand.
Many had tried over the years, Bendu and Jedi and Sith, wanderers, scholars, warriors, and nobodies alike. Very few had even come close to comprehending the Force in its entirety. Even fewer, why some people felt it, connected with it, manipulated it better than others.
Recent science suggested that the number of midichlorians might have something to do with it. Philosophy, that commitment and dedication to the study of it was the true path to understanding. The simple fact of the matter was, the Force was a vast field of energy created by all living things, so by that logic, it was a part of all living things. Some were more sensitive to it than others, and became even more so through training.
Mysterious it might be, but it was, at the most basic level, a form of energy. Ahsoka Tano had explained as much on Corvus.
One of the primary laws of the universe was that energy cannot be created or destroyed, it can only change its form. This Din knew.
Still, he wasn’t expecting anything to happen when he tried, again and again, in desperation, to reach Grogu at the ancient temple on Tython. The forcefield, barrier, whatever it was that had sprung up around his kid seemed to be unbreachable, but that didn’t stop him from trying. He was a Mandalorian, and now a father. There was no more stubborn and determined combination in the galaxy when it came to the protection of children.
It hurt, pushing against the Force. The first time it caught him off guard. He felt the resistance of it in his bones, a vibration and a pressure unlike any other. The further he pressed, the more the ringing in his ears grew, a headache blossomed and spiked. Every step was a trial, like wading through mud.
Din kept going anyway, his son needed him. K'atini as his trainers would say. It was only pain. He kept going until he could go no more. Until the energy wrapping around him overwhelmed his will and sent him stumbling and flying into darkness.
The irony of it was that Imperial remnants had been trying for years to artificially create sensitivity to the Force, to create that energy. To turn the ordinary into the extraordinary, in the hopes of gaining even a fraction of the power once wielded by those at the top. It was why they wanted Grogu, wanted to study and replicate the cells in his blood that they believed gave him his power. They forgot, or perhaps merely didn’t care that the universe had rules when it came to this kind of thing.
There was enough Force energy on Tython to change even the least sensitive of people, under the right circumstances.
Din Djarin didn’t stand a chance.
As he fought against the Force, trying to reach Grogu once more, with every step of ground gained, the wall of energy he breached did not break or dissipate. It couldn’t. Instead, it adapted. Piece by piece, it shifted and seeped into armour and flesh until the speed of the transformational process was outstripped by the power of the field and Din was thrown back once more.
He did not recognise the new energy reverberating under his skin, he had no frame of reference for sensing the Force. All he knew was that after Tython he felt - strange, off-balance. At the time he put it down to the cascade of traumas and losses that his body and mind had been put through. When it got in the way, he pushed it down and ignored it as best he could. Nothing would be allowed to come between him and his new quest to rescue Grogu.
Which worked right up until he leaned down to collect the darksaber from the floor of the light cruiser and felt the crystals inside screaming as the twisted intentions of the weapon’s previous owner jarred against the purity of the Force now inside him.
The hilt clattered to the floor, falling from nerveless fingers as Din staggered back, gasping, afterimages of centuries of history flashing before his eyes.
“What the kriff was that?” he said, voice sharp and loud.
Tucked safely in the crook of his other arm, Grogu whined, confused by his father’s response and the wave of Force energy he had sensed from him both. Whilst, unseen behind him, cuffed and defeated, Gideon frowned, because this was a variable he hadn’t accounted for.
Din Djarin was not Force sensitive, the records on Mandalore and from the Jedi temple on Coruscant were clear on that. He was not listed on the Holocron. Something between his adoption into the fighting corps and his arrival on the cruiser had changed that - had done what the full might of the Empire could not. It was a puzzle that would haunt Gideon for the rest of his limited days.
Din Djarin was not Force sensitive, right up until the moment that he was.