I pulled free from my scale-flesh, fighting back a wave of revulsion strong enough to send me reeling. The scale of my betrayal was staggering, horrifying beyond belief. I had been too weak, my mind too brittle - my defenses feeble enough that I was forced to rely on Tiamat’s cursed reward to save me.

To save myself.

Only the thought that I was clearly at the start of another life, that the Great Core had graced me with another attempt despite my blasphemy, kept me going.

Still, I shuddered as the thought-light brought itself to the forefront of my mind, and I saw the forbidden reward appear yet again.

Scales of Devotion: The scales shift as your devotion is altered further; provides greatly increased protection from the mental control of any being not connected to your Chains, while greatly increasing the mental and physical effects of [Chains of the Creator]. (Provided by: Snake, [Chains of the Creator])

I never wanted to be forced to choose it again; though it did what I hoped, letting me cast aside the mental hold that the Lesser Core had over me, the power it gave Tiamat was too daunting. As I was, it was too much for me to resist.

I shuddered again, my scales trembling as I fought against the memory. Struggling to forget the way that [Scales of Devotion] had warped me, allowing Tiamat a level of control that even the Lesser Core failed to achieve. At least the Death Core, as disgusting as its control over me was to remember, had managed its control by beating back my real self. I had still been in there, hidden deep within my mind-nest, occasionally able to force my undead self to commit minor acts of rebellion. Not enough control to gather the life essence needed to end my life entirely, but enough to assure myself that I was still me - even if I was hidden away.

[Chains of the Creator] worked differently. Warped me. Changed me.

One was far worse than the other, even if both options were completely unforgivable.

But after all the horrors, I was finally free. I was myself. I was ready. I was the Great Core’s Champion again.

The thought-light flickered, the first of my two choices for this life already selected. As much as I hated what it had done to me, the Death Core had proven itself powerful. And I had a chance to learn and manipulate that same kind of power.

Death: You are a symbol of the eternal, just as you are of many other things. You are a symbol of death. You gain the ability to transform mana into the essence of death, using it to fuel deathly abilities. (Provided by: Ouroboros)

Reward Chosen: Death.

[Mana-Death Conversion] Acquired.

Gained the Lesser Core Skill: [Death Essence Manipulation I].

I had hopes that [Death Essence Manipulation] would do more than just allow me to create abilities like I had with life essence; with any luck, a high enough level in [Death Essence Manipulation] might let me fight against the Lesser Core’s aura in a different way than before, one that wasn’t so reliant on my ability to heal myself again and again.

But I wasn’t sure whether things would turn out that way in the end, and wanted nothing less than to fall back under the Lesser Core’s sway. With that in mind, my next choice was easy. It helped that choosing it would help me regardless.

Mana Restoration: You are a unique being, the embodiment of the cycle of renewal. Now, you have taken that even further. [The Snake That Eats Its Own Tail] gains the ability to heavily increase passive mana regeneration when activated. (Provided by: [The Snake That Eats Its Own Tail], [Minor Mana Core])

Reward Chosen: Mana Restoration.

[Mana Restoration] Acquired.

With [Mana Restoration] to help me, I would be able to use both life and death essence more easily. More reliably. And, with any luck, it would help prevent me from encountering the same fate as before, trapped inside the Lesser Core’s effect without enough mana to keep myself going. Whether it was [Life Essence Manipulation] or [Death Essence Manipulation] that I was forced to rely on, [Mana Restoration] was an ability that I could rely on.

With that, the thought-light flickered again, rewarding me with the same title as in my previous lives.

Gained Minor Title: [Ascended Seeker].

Description: After successfully devouring the Core of a fellow Ascended, your body has mutated to give you a keener sense for when Ascended are near.

Blooded Trait: [Ascended Sense] Acquired.

Knowing that I had little time left, I quickly pushed a request to the thought-light. The end of my false-life had brought my strength back to what it had been before, and I needed to remind myself of what that looked like.

Name: Paradox

Species: Snake, Ouroboros

Major Title: [The Snake That Eats Its Own Tail] [Little Guardian]

Minor Titles: [Minor Mana Core] [Venomous Retribution] [Touched By Fire] [Ascended Seeker]

Innate Traits: [Venomous II]

Blooded Traits: [Paralyzing Venom IV] [Poisonous Blood III] [Illusion Spark IV] [Clinging Grasp III] [Sound Shaping VII] [Chains Of The Creator I] [Anticoagulant IV] [Constriction I] [Spore Puppeteer VI] [Ascended Sense I]

Resistances: [Piercing Resistance - Intermediate I] [Venom Resistance - Intermediate II]

Level: 55

Trait Points: 23

Core Skills: [The Endless Cycle] [Chrono Fire] [Verdure Parasite] [The Golem’s Fading Heart]

Lesser Core Skills: [Mana Manipulation XI] [Mana Venom XI] [Mana Fire VII] [Little Guardian’s Totem MAX] [Life Essence Manipulation VI] [Life - Invigorating Bite XI] [Life - Vitality X] [Life - Vigor III] [Life - Vigorous Spores IV] [Little Guardian’s Focus XI] [Death Essence Manipulation I]

Level Rewards: [Traveler] [Mana-Life Conversion] [Mana-Death Conversion] [Mana Restoration]

Description: A growing Ouroboros, symbol of the eternal.

It was a depressing sight. Level 55. A full 16 levels lower than I was before. Five of the Blooded Traits that I had gained were gone as well. I wouldn’t be able to get all of them, but there were at least a few that I knew I wanted.

[Ambusher’s Vision] was at the top of the list; the ability to see well in darkness just wasn’t something that I was able to pass up. Not even if, at my much smaller size, just getting it was going to be a pain. I couldn’t just swallow Darkweavers whole anymore. Not all at once.

I’d figure something out. Later. For the moment, I had something more important to think about. Something that I needed to figure out before the Darkweavers arrived.

[Mana-Death Conversion], and how to actually use it.

It took me longer than I expected; in the end, my familiarity with life essence was to blame. Using [Mana-Life Conversion] required a gentle touch. A sense of peace, of warmth, of calm. The mana couldn’t be forced into the shape that I needed, but had to be coaxed and cajoled. Encouraged. Done right, and the mana would change itself; it would twist upon itself in incomprehensible whirls that I could never manage to handle myself, and a drop of life essence would take its place.

I tried to do the same for death. Tried to hiss encouragement and peace, waiting for the change to take place. And that change never came - or, rather, it did.

It just formed life essence instead, [Mana-Life Conversion] allowing the droplets to twist in place, shifting shades of blue into gold. I pushed them back in frustration, untangling the twisted knots that shifted mana into life essence. That wasn’t what I needed at the moment.

A soft click cut through the quiet, the first sign that my time was running out. That the ambush was about to begin. I pushed away the thought, focusing on my mana again.

On the image of brilliant blue mana turning a deadly black. I calmed myself again, and tried to let [Mana-Death Conversion] act naturally. Tried to let the mana shift as it willed.

It turned gold.

With growing frustration, I slammed my will against the entirety of my mana. If it had been a placid lake before, it quickly became a tempest. A raging, frothing thing. A far cry from the calm that I had enforced.

And still, the mana didn’t shift as I willed. The way it needed to. The Lesser Core had clearly been able to do it. It had created and used death essence so effectively that I was forced to turn to [Scales of Devotion], a reward that I had promised myself that I would never choose, in order to escape its grasp.

I refused to be the lesser of that thing.

I was the Great Core’s Champion, even if I had let myself fall.

With a will fueled by rage and indignation, my mind grasped at the storm. Reached into the raging, whirling mana and took what I needed. Twisted it mercilessly.

Broke it under my resolve.

The mana started to warp, the warm blue of mana shifting into the bitterly cold obsidian of death. Frozen over.

Because death was not life, I realized. It didn’t respond to calm, or encouragement, or peace. It knew only battle, and rage, and loss.

With that new understanding, I grasped all of the mana available to me, and shattered it with the force of my will.

A wave of frigid cold started to emanate from my head-scales, and a black-haired leg stepped into the light.

I lunged forward.