The truth ringing out brings the universe to a stand still. Obi-Wan freezes, staring down at Ezra in the kind of shock that wipes the expression of all feeling. It's Palpatine. Palpatine, the Sith Lord. The man that ruled the Senate, the Republic. The man who has always been outspoken about ending the war, who asked for the Jedi's services as personal protection. The man that Anakin considers his good friend. The shroud behind Dooku and the Separatists — there would never be an end to the war, unless it ended the way Palpatine wanted it to.

And he'd been right in front of them the whole time. Not a single one of them on the Council could notice. Dooku was right, he thinks, bewildered.

"That..." can't be, he thinks, still not quite seeing Ezra as his mind scrambles to put the pieces together. But even as he says it, some intrinsic part of him knows Ezra to be telling the truth. Electing for emergency powers, interfering with the Jedi Council. Obi-Wan takes a sharp breath, sounding like he's been punched in the gut.

"How could we not notice?"