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'dead?' he thought to himself as he was faced by a familiar darkness.

"This is..."

"It is not the same place", a familiar melodious voice cut him short.

The voice was as enthralling as the last time. The memory that had been lost up until now resurfaced, and with it, a feeling of longing and devotion that he tried and failed to suppress.

The taste of it made his stomach churn and his blood boil only slightly before he was completely taken by the soothing presence that the legacy invoked in him.

It invoked a warmth in his heart that promised to fix all that was broken, it injected such hope and optimism that, despite trying and failing to convince himself it was an illusion, he couldn't help be taken by this serene wave of emotions.

His eyes gleamed with worship as he sat up and swung his head to have his sight on the new presence.

The memory of their earlier interaction was there, although hazy as if layered by a dense fog.

However, the moment he locked eyes with the legacy, the fog was lifted.

The memory was like day; lain bare, reinforcing the devotion and longing that festered at the depths of his broken heart.

It was like the feeling of finally reuniting with a long lost loved one. It was sickening and warm, addictive and repulsive in equal parts.

His mouth dropped and his throat became dry. He lost all strength to move his body or call up his thoughts, staring blankly at the beautiful being, his body at the mercy of the legacy's whims.

The same chuckle from back then, that had entranced an already lost Michael,escaped the Legacy's lips, it was as soothing and warm as he remembered it; more even now he actually paid it attention.

Michael found himself smiling unable to hold back this involuntary action, joy and peace welled up inside. His whole body beamed with joy and humility as his posture reflected his sense of inferiority and devotion before this being of unimaginable power.

Whether this emotions were invoked deliberately or were merely a manifestation of it's strength Michael didn't care, he felt... whole again. He wanted to cry, to laugh, to run up at the being and drown himself in its embrace, yet he couldn't—transfixed by it's mesmerizing gaze.

The Legacy's body was of a radiant white, however unlike before, the glow was softer—however, still enough to hide most of it's features behind a brilliant radiance.

Surprisingly, the light didn't hurt Michael's eyes, even more intriguing was his obsidian skin that seemed to absorb the light nourishing it's luster, turning it many shades darker and giving it a brighter sheen.

Questions raged through Michael's mind but he was too entranced to bear them any heed.

As if aware of his chaos, the Legacy uttered, "This... is your incomplete domain. It's still embryonic but will grow in response to your strength. It is invaluable—when you have the strength to bring out it's full potential, for now... get used to this."

A short silence ensued, the Legacy seemingly lost in distant thought and Michael in the warmth and beauty of it's presence and the peace it promised.

Shaking itself of the moment of reminiscence it looked down at Michael, a soft smile plastered on it's face and spoke, "let's do something about your weakness, shall we?"

With those words, it stretched out its arm momentarily breaking Michael out of the trance. It was enough for him to take in it's appearance more clearly to notice that the Legacy possessed none of it's ribbon like extensions.

He wanted to study it further but that was made impossible when he felt a fever overcome him. The Legacy's hand held in to his and the other came closer to his forehead and with it, the intensity of the fever grew. Slowly he felt his head turn into a furnace.

Michael wanted to scream but he couldn't bring his vocal cords to manifest the voice, or his body the strength to tear himself off it's vice grip.

He was stuck in place.

He begun to panic.

A golden glow emanated from somewhere inside his head, illuminating it from the inside and turning his head into a tapestry of blood vessels.

Michael begun to convulse violently as the pain intensified and... he felt parts of himself slip away.

It was a harrowing experience for him. He felt himself loose the source of his pride, the sentiments that tired to the failures of his earlier life slowly got eroded leaving him empty.

He had defined his life around his failures, his fear and paranoia were all tailored from all the times he had stumbled, yet now... all that meaning was lost. It was like he remembered his failures but the emotions that overcame him then were distant.

A void took the olace of his heart and all that had shaped his identity melted away.

Even his greif over loosing marie....

"NOOOOO!" He yelled at the top of his lungs, he was loosing the little pieces that held him together. He saw her face flash in his mind, hut the emotions slipped away. He panicked even more, unable to do anything to maintain a hold of his tethers.

The image of Marie overlapped with every memory he associated her with, yet the emotions he would have felt; the regret from loosing her, the pain of being betrayed, the anger, the shame, the despair, the love... It was all slipping through his fingers.

The Legacy remained impassive, seemingly unbothered by Michael's cries to put an end to this, to give him back his pain.

It lifted it's left hand and threads of energy floated from Michael's head weaving themselves into the design of a necklace filled with intricate runic carvings on it's surface.

As the necklace weaved itself into reality, Michael slowly lost his drive to keep fighting. Whatever the Legacy was doing worked, his resistance lessened and so did his pleas. His face dropped and he appeared hollow, a husk of his fomer self.

As if shattered from the inside.

The process was short but to Michael it might as well have lasted an eternity.

"That should do it", the legacy spoke, a hint of fatigue in it's melodious voice.

With those final words, the void around Michael disappeared and Michael felt the same pull on his consciousness that brought him back into the Nether.

***

The body of a man laying on a bed strewn from vines and wood, groaned and tossed around in distress.

Pain ravaged Michael's body; his head throbbed in pain, his abdomen twisted in agony and his lungs ached with every breath he drew as a cold sweat covered his whole body.

At the foot of his bed, a man wearing hunters attire stared, a slightly terrified expression—although well hidden—etched on his face.

He appeared to be in his mid to late forties, he had raven hair contrasted by a white around his temples that gave him a timeless and wise bearing.

Hearing Michael groan, he lowered his guard slightly and stood from where he sat walking over to his bedside before conjuring a cup of water and bringing it to Michael's lips.

Feeling a cold soothing liquid flow into his mouth, Michael sat up and frienziedly grabbed the hand that offered him water gulping it down in eagerness, his grip tightening with every gulp.

"AAARGH, I still need my hands to cast you fuck!" the man exclaimed and Michael finally opened his eyes and loosened his grip.

A flood of white light momentarily blinded him forcing him to shut his eyes before they were singed shut.

...The constant change in scenery was becoming more and more annoying.

Once he adjusted to, what felt like a hundred suns, he took in his environment.

He found himself in a small modest looking cottage with most of it's decorations plant based, from wooden furniture that had traces of plant shoots, to drapes woven from vines giving the place a simple yet homely feel.

His eyes fell on the host, they locked eyes for more than a few seconds, Michael trying to make sense of things and the host wondering why Michael was starring for too long.

"Hey, if you swing that way I don't judge, I am off limits though." the man said regaining his composure and eliciting a glare from Michael.

He walked back to where he was seated muttering something under his breath that was lost to Michael.

"Am I still in the Nether?" Michael asked more to himself than his host.

"No you are in the timeless lakes," the man snorted "Of course you are in the Nether." he retorted and dropped into his chair tiredly, conjuring a cup of water for himself.

That was reassuring, he wasn't dead atleast.

"Who are you?"

****

Authors Note:

Constant updates from now on.