The Basilisk Heart sat on the table, its crimson surface glimmering faintly under the lab's lights. Golden veins traced intricate paths across it, pulsating in a slow, deliberate rhythm that reminded me of a beast's heartbeat, echoing from some forgotten era. It exuded a power that was both awe-inspiring and menacing—a living, breathing remnant of a mythic creature long since vanished from our mortal plane.
I steeled myself, hands poised over the Heart. This was the Source, the very Soul of my would-be Lich, and the apex of my research. The Skeleton had been a lesson in exhaustion, a puzzle of sinew and bone that tested my patience. The Skull was an ordeal of exactness, every rune etched with surgical precision. Yet here, confronting the Heart, I sensed something far more alive. Though separated from the Basilisk's body, the Heart was still defiant, its power roiling beneath the surface like a caged tempest.
