When Liam opened his eyes, he was no longer in the cavern. He stood on a familiar beach, the scent of salt and the sound of crashing waves filling the air. The sky above was a soft blue, dotted with clouds that drifted lazily on the breeze. He turned, his heart skipping a beat as he saw her.

Sarah stood a few feet away, her dark hair caught in the wind, her smile radiant. She looked at him with a warmth that made his chest ache.

“This is what we could’ve had,” she said, her voice soft and full of meaning. “What we still can have.”

Liam took a step forward, his hand reaching out instinctively. “Sarah, I…”

The scene shifted. Sarah was gone, replaced by the dim, cluttered interior of a fortune teller’s tent. The scent of incense filled the air, heavy and cloying, and the flickering light of candles cast dancing shadows on the walls. Liam’s stomach tightened as he recognized the woman sitting before him, her piercing eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and knowing.

“Madame Maev,” he said, his voice low.

The fortune teller tilted her head, her expression enigmatic. “Ah, Liam,” she said, her voice lilting. “It seems you’ve found yourself in quite the predicament.”

Her words carried a weight that made his skin crawl, a sense of layered meaning that he couldn’t fully grasp. He stepped closer, his fists clenching at his sides. “What’s happening? What is this?”

“This,” she said, gesturing to the space around them, “is the game you chose to play. You stepped outside the rules, Liam. You’ve become a player, no longer a pawn. But that choice comes with consequences.”

“As to what is happening. You are being consumed. Slowly. By an entity of great power.”

“What do you mean, consumed?” Liam asked in dismay.

“Simply that. You have stumbled into something quit dangerous, young Liam. It is a battle of wills. And should you fail, all will be lost.”

“How can I trust you? Is this even real?” Liam asked incredulously.

“In a manner of speaking...” Madame Maev trailed off, leaving Liam to ponder her meaning.

“Should you survive your present fight, I have a warning for you. And a bit of advice.” She leaned forward, her gaze locking onto his. “Trust no one, least of all the Jackal. He has his own game, his own plans, as do I.”

“Just who are you?” Liam asked.

“A queen without a champion.” She replied cryptically.

“What does that mean?” Liam was getting frustrated by the word play.

“When you fall from the path, seek out the Court. Only then will you find the answers you seek.” She commanded.

Her words echoed in his mind, and he felt a sharp pain in his temples, as though her voice carried some psychic weight. Before he could respond, she held out a bracelet made of obsidian, its surface polished to a mirror-like shine.

“Take this,” she said. “It will offer you some small protection, especially in your present fight.” And then she laughed, and her laugh contained a hint of something dark just beneath the surface.

Liam hesitated, then took the bracelet, slipping it onto his wrist. The moment it touched his skin, he felt a strange warmth, a sense of connection that both comforted and unnerved him. He opened his mouth to speak, but the scene dissolved before the words could form.

The sound of laughter continued to fill his ears, morphing into the sound of a child, and Liam blinked, finding himself in his kitchen. The room was bathed in morning light. Sarah stood at the stove, her hands covered in flour as she guided a small child through the process of making pancakes. The little girl giggled as she scattered batter across the counter, her dark curls bouncing with every movement.

“Daddy!” she called, turning to him with a wide grin. “Come help!”

Liam’s heart twisted at the sight. He stepped forward, his hands trembling. “This can’t be real,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “It can’t be…”

The vision faltered, the edges of the scene flickering like a faulty hologram. The little girl’s laughter turned hollow, the light dimming until he was left standing in the dark once more.

Liam clenched his fists, the obsidian bracelet on his arm flaring with a black light. “What’s happening?” he demanded through gritted teeth.

The illusion shattered, and the darkness around him twisted, reshaping into something new.

Liam was in a crystalline tomb, the stillness around him absolute, the air heavy with an almost sacred quiet. His breath caught as his eyes locked on the object hovering above his prone body. A Prismata Orb, its 100 facets glittering like starlight trapped in crystal, pulsed faintly with an energy that seemed both ancient and alive. Each facet glowed with a rhythm all its own, their collective light weaving a pattern too intricate for the mind to fully grasp.

He stared at the Orb, and his chest tightened with a strange mix of awe, familiarity, and apprehension. It felt as though it recognized him -as though it was waiting for him to act. The longer he stood there, the more he felt its energy reaching out to him, probing at the edges of his consciousness.

“This is the moment of my death,” Liam whispered, his voice trembling. “But that’s impossible.” The thought was chilling, yet there was an undeniable certainty to it. He could feel the weight of it in his bones, in the mark on his arm that flared faintly in response.

Compelled, he stepped forward, his hand stretching out toward the hovering Orb. The moment his fingertips brushed its surface, a surge of energy shot through him, and the world tilted.

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A kaleidoscope of images surged into his mind, vivid and unrelenting. He saw himself in different bodies and scenarios.

In one, he was standing atop a spire of crystalline rock that jutted out over an endless abyss, facing off against an encroaching darkness. The air was charged with power, crackling like a summer storm.

Next, he was not just a man but a master of the elements, and one who could weave the raw forces of the world into tangible forms. He saw himself calling down bolts of lightning, each strike splitting the ground with devastating precision.

In another, he shaped water into towering waves that crashed down upon armies, extinguishing life as easily as they cleansed the earth.

In still others, he summoned walls of fire that roared like living creatures, consuming all in their path.

But it wasn’t just destruction he wielded. He saw himself using his powers to mend the broken, to heal wounds and purify tainted lands. With a flick of his wrist, he could coax plants to grow, vines twisting and blooming under his command. He was a creator as much as a destroyer, a force of balance in a chaotic world.

In each, he held the Prismata Orb, its facets glowing brighter than the twin suns over the skies of Pangaea. The energy radiating from it was so intense that the very air around him seemed to ripple and distort.

The vision shifted, and he was no longer standing. He was lying back in the crystalline tomb, his body broken and battered. The Orb hovered above him once more, its light flickering weakly. He could feel the life draining from him, the weight of countless battles pressing down on his soul. Yet even in this moment, he did not despair. Instead, he channeled everything he had left into the Orb -his knowledge, his memories, his very essence.

The act was one of defiance, a final stand against the forces that sought to erase him from history. He poured his soul into the Prismata Orb, each facet absorbing a fragment of who he was. When the last of his strength left him, he smiled, knowing that he had left behind something eternal.

The visions ended as abruptly as they began, and Liam stumbled back, his chest heaving as he tried to process what he had just seen. His hand flew to the mark -its length now extending from his wrist to his collar- which burned with a heat that was almost unbearable.

“That’s who I was - each one, another facet of my existence,” he murmured, his voice shaky. “That’s who I’m meant to be.” A steel rod of determination now filling his words.

The realization was overwhelming, but it was also empowering. It was impossible. And yet the connection he felt to the Orb wasn’t just in his mind -it was in his blood, in his very being. He knew he had just unlocked a part of himself that had been buried for eons, a fragment of his past.

The obsidian bracelet pulsed with light again, and the scene shattered.

Liam gasped as the dark pool erupted around him, leaving him lying at the bottom of the depression that was once filled with what he had mistakenly taken for water. The thick, viscous substance clinging to his skin felt like tar as it proved his assumptions wrong.

“What the hell was that?” He wondered aloud, panting as he struggled to reclaim his breath.

He collapsed onto the cavern floor, his chest heaving, the taste of the slime bitter and metallic on his tongue. The mark on his arm burned brighter than ever, its light cutting through the oppressive darkness.

In his hand he held the source of light that he had first touched after he dove into the pool. An orb, not unlike the one from his visions. And on his wrist was the obsidian bracelet that the gypsy queen had given him.

He climbed his way out of the empty pool, as the viscous liquid slowly began to refill it, returning to rest at the bottom of the depression. Where it remained, still and lifeless.

He hurried as quickly as his strength allowed. And barely avoided having to swim his way out of the slimy water.

The pool, now newly reformed, rippled violently, its surface rising to form a towering, amorphous shape. The liquid blob loomed over him, its oily mass shifting and undulating as though alive. It was alive! Liam thought in amazement, and it was trying to eat me.

Its surface shimmered with fragments of his memories, distorted and twisted into grotesque reflections, parodies of the truth.

Liam staggered to his feet, his fists clenching as he stared up at the apparition. The slime creature lashed out, not physically but psychically, its assault slamming into his mind like a tidal wave. Images surged forward -visions of failure, of regret, of everything he feared most.

He saw Sarah, her face pale and tear-streaked, her voice filled with anguish as she screamed, “You abandoned us!”

He saw a battlefield littered with the bodies of those he had failed to save, their lifeless eyes accusing him. He saw himself standing alone in the ruins of worlds that he could have protected but didn’t.

“No,” Liam growled, his voice low and defiant. Clutching the core that he had claimed from the pool. “You’re not taking me.” And without knowing exactly what he was doing, but feeling it was right -some of his knowledge from the past lives providing him guidance- he squeezed.

It was not a wholly physical thing, it was also mental and spiritual in nature. He clenched his hands around the orb and poured everything he had into the pressure he exerted against it. Logically, he shouldn’t be able to harm the stone, but his intentions didn’t care about logic as the orb began to crack.

The slime screeched, its form writhing as it redoubled its efforts. This time, the visions were not of failure but of temptation. He saw himself standing triumphant, a hero adored by all. He saw Sarah by his side, their child in her arms, their laughter echoing like a melody. It was everything he had ever wanted, laid out before him like a gift.

The light that surrounded him expanded in a burst of energy, cutting through the illusion like a blade. And, as he instinctively knew that he was only moments from shattering the orb for good - he felt from the creature a sudden penitence, a deep remorse. And a begging of forgiveness.

His power was radiating out of the Prismata Orb that he had seen in the vision of his past self -now hovering in front of him in the present, like a will-o-the-wisp with the brightness of a star. He knew that he could take the orb he held, and claim its power. Adding its strength to his own. And he was tempted.

Sensing this, the slime shrieked, its form collapsing inward as the visions shattered around him once and for all.

Legacy Ability Regained:

Iron Mind: Bastion of Resolve (Upgradable)

* An innate trait tied to your immortal bloodline, this ability reflects the unyielding mental discipline of Immortal’s legacy. The Iron Mind stands as an unwavering fortress against psychic and emotional assaults, shielding the wielder from manipulation and fear.

He stepped forward cautiously, his eyes locked on the creature. As he approached, the slime collapsed entirely, its massive form shrinking until it was no more than a quivering puddle. Liam held its Core in his hand, its warmth seeping into his skin. He could feel its power, its connection to the creature was undeniable.

For a moment, he considered keeping it, using its energy to bolster his own strength. But something deep within him rebelled at the thought. The memory of his pasts resurfaced, and he knew -this wasn’t his to take. It belonged to the creature that had fought so desperately to protect it. It was the slime creature’s soul, in a manner of speaking.

With a deep breath, he stepped back to the edge of the pool and tossed the Core into its depths. It sank quickly, disappearing into the darkness.

Liam stood at the edge of the pool, his body trembling with exhaustion. His mind no longer clouded by the slime. He looked around the chamber he found himself in and realized that everything he’d seen when he first arrived was an illusion. A trap crafted by the creature. Some sort of Psychic Slime.

He glanced down at the partially dissolved remains of the Burrowers scattered around him, their twisted forms a grim reminder of how close he had come to sharing their fate. A chill ran through him, and he shivered, a mixture of revulsion and relief coursing through his veins.

“I’m still here,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “But why? How?”

He thought of Warden’s Endurance, and wondered if it was connected. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t join them. Except that he thought it might have something to do with his Legacy of the Immortal heritage. A notification appeared.

Legacy Ability Regained:

Eternal Aegis: Toxic Resilience

* A manifestation of your immortal heritage, this ability reflects the ancient durability passed down through the bloodline of Gilgamesh. The Eternal Aegis shields you against corrosive and toxic threats with an almost supernatural fortitude.

Well that explains it, he thought.