Legion blinks his eyes and stares at his surroundings, confused. He’s standing on a large mote of cracked and broken rock, and the mote itself seems to float in a star filled sea of blackness. The vastness of it all is disorienting to the shade, and he reaches out to steady himself, only to feel his hand grasped by another. Looking over, he spies the all too familiar form of a cloaked and hooded ally.
“Impossible.” The shade says aloud, “You are dead.”
“Death is but a gate to another world,” laughs Blackcross, “I would have expected better from someone who has walked through many domains and even across worlds now.” Legion tries to keep his unrest hidden. There is something dreamlike about all this. Almost like a vision.
As he makes the connection in his mind, the form of Blackcross shifts to a young shadar-kai woman. Another face he remembers all too well. The supporting grasp of his former mentor turns to a clawing grasp of anger as Shareen sneers at Legion. The shade panics, and scrambles to pull his arm free.
“You can’t be here,” Legion shouts, “It’s impossible.”
“I am here!” Shareen shrieks at him, her nails digging deep into his skin, “I am nowhere!” Legion finally manages to break free, falling onto his back staring up in horror at the twisted visage of Morpheus‘ sister. “I am everywhere!” Shareen screeches, her voice splitting the shades’ ears as he closes his eyes and clutches his hands over his ears. The shadar-kai’s laughter mocks him, as she fades from existence, but not before he hears her taunting whisper in his ears.
“My brother will kill you…”
Opening his eyes, Legion is alone. He rises to his feet and shakes his head. The shade is just beginning to relax when he hears the wet sound of dripping behind him. Ever so slowly, Legion turns to face whatever it is behind him, expecting the worst.
At first the shade thinks it’s a nude eladrin male, but then he realizes it’s a drow. The confusion is understandable, as every inch of the drow’s naked skin is covered in dripping blood. Dark rich blood flows endlessly over its entire body. It holds forth a large black sword, a black so deep that Legion is almost lost in its finality.
“You are not real.” The shade says, more to convince itself, than anyone else. The drow laughs, the sound long and sinister before it speaks.
“My master – Orcus – Lord of the Undead, will feast on your wretched soul, and I will be the one to deliver you to him!” It laughs again, opening its mouth wide, and the shade spies deep within the drow’s maw, the glimmering shard of a purple gem. A piece of the phylactery!
“THIS IS NOT HAPPENING!” Legion shouts, his voice angry and loud. The drow suddenly explodes, spraying an endless amount of blood everywhere, and the shade finds himself falling backwards only to land in an ocean of blood. The liquid rises around him as Legion gains his feet, with no sign of the drow or anyone anywhere, just red sticky blood extending to every horizon.
Legion stares at his hands, full of blood, as the level of dark red liquid rises rapidly up his body. Staring into the endless ocean of blood, Legion begins to laugh maniacally as he feels it pour down his throat and rise over his head.
Then the vision ends.
