I have been called many things. Once, I was Lorien. Now, I am Earth. Your friends called me the Entity.

So, this is what was hidden under the Sanctuary, what Setrákus Ra was after. Marina and the others must have talked to it before its hiding place got blown to hell. The Entity, though . . . that seems all formal, alien and cold. That’s not the feeling I’m getting now.

“I’m going to call you Legacy,” I decide.

As you wish, child.

Legacy seems so calm. It was only a few minutes ago that the Anubis was sucking it out of the ground through a big mechanical straw.

“Did my grandfather hurt you when he pulled you out of the Earth?” I ask.

He cannot hurt me, he can only change me. Once changed, I am no longer me, and so the pain is not mine to experience.

“Okay,” I reply, not following a bit of that. “Are you, like, trapped aboard the Anubis now?”

Only a small part of me, child. I exist in many places. Your grandfather has tried to harvest me before, but I am greater than he even knows. Come. I will show you.

Before I can even ask—go where?—a wave of Loric energy sweeps me away. I’m no longer floating along in the peaceful darkness. Instead, I’m inside Earth itself. It’s like one of those cross-sections where you can see the different layers of Earth’s crust—the tectonic plates, dinosaur bones, hot molten lava near the planet’s core. I can visualize it all. I feel tiny in comparison.

Running through every layer of the Earth, intertwined with the core itself, are glowing veins of Loralite. The energy is thin in some places, stronger in others, but there’s nowhere on the planet that isn’t close to its gentle glow.

“Whoa,” I say. “You really made yourself at home.”

Yes, Legacy replies. This is not all.

We rise up. Once again, the battlefield appears beneath me. My friends and Setrákus Ra are still moving like they’re stuck in molasses. Six is in the process of picking up a rock, hopefully to clobber my grandfather with.

In Six’s chest, right over her heart, there’s a glowing ember of Loric energy. Marina and Adam have it too. So do I, although my ember looks a little weaker than theirs, probably on account of the whole dying thing. Even Setrákus Ra has a spark of Lorien in him, although his looks partially molded over by some black substance. He’s corrupted himself in ways I don’t understand. The thought makes me glance up towards the Anubis. There, housed in the ship’s belly, is a throbbing glow of severed Loralite. It’s nothing compared to what I just saw underground, but still . . .

“What is he going to do with it?” I ask Legacy. “I mean, with you?”