"I'll be back earlier than I usually do."
His newlywed smiles a knowing grin. Both of them are quite aware that his statement consists mostly of a lie.
"Of course you will hun. Of course you will."
The blond-headed explorer gives his wife a kiss, then turns and leaves her standing in the doorway, his body disappearing into the white light of the outside world.
Darkness. Nothing but darkness. Then comes a sensation of nothingness, the feeling of nothing touching against his skin. Suddenly, a beat. Then another, and another, resonating within the hollow husk of his head.
The beat continues to proceed, faster, faster, resonating now throughout every corner of his body. Now he hears, hears the idle talk of unseen men and women. Finally he begins to think, only one name grabbing his intellect;
Caitlyn, Caitlyn, Caitlyn….
His body decides it is time, and with huge intake of air, he jumps upright, eyes flying open.
Ezreal pants, sitting inside a metallic capsule, sweat dripping from every pore. In his eyes, all he can see is light; too much light. He shuts his eyes tight, hands gripping his rough hair. The idle chatter that had greeted his ears before had now ceased, and all he can hear is breathing.
His head suddenly whips about, eyes eager to take in his surroundings; All around, he sees nothing but metallic walls lit up by flickering lights. Directly in front of him, people wearing bluish jumpsuits stare at him, pieces of glass spouting out images and numbers in their hands. A row of more people sit behind bigger glass panes, colorful images dancing across them. Ezreal's eyes don't believe what they see.
His hands frantically grope his body, as if this would help in giving him answers. But of course, none are given, for the man is wearing nothing except his own skin.
He gives up any attempt to decipher his situation and simply sits in silence, head touching upon his chest, hands limp at his sides.
Finally, the Prodigal Explorer musters up whatever strength he has, and speaks.
"Where…where am I?"
A silence ensues for a brief period of time, then a man, one with the air of a leader, finally speaks from within the small crowd of researchers gathered before him.
"The better question, is when are you?"
Ezreal slowly lifts his head, his eyes screaming in bewilderment.
The man merely smiles a smug smile, and continues.
"Ezreal…you are in the company of Aperture Industries, one-hundred and twenty years from the time you entered cryogenic sleep. Now I'll pause for a second, since I know that even this tidbit of information is a bit…hard to swallow."
And hard it was.
He couldn't believe his ears. His hands find their way to his hair, gripping it tightly as his chest heaves with the constant intake of air that had begun to find its way through his mouth.
A hundred twenty years?
He swallowed hard.
"N-no…that can't be true. Cait…C-Cait….No…"
His eyes shut violently, tears bursting forth and splattering on his thighs. A searing pain can be felt on his head, caused by the tight grip his hands created. But this was unfelt, the anguish he is feeling overcoming any other feeling that enters his system.
He tries to remember, remember anything from before his rude awakening, But nothing comes, only his memories of his beloved; Her scent, the soft touch of her skin, her melodious voice that greeted him every time he came home from a hard day's journey.
Eyes flying open once more, he faces the man who had spoke, voice filled with desperation. He knows that this is the only way he can know what truly happen.
Even though this small hope was impossible, it was still a hope nonetheless.
"I-Is my wife alive? Was she alive when I started sleeping?"
His head buzzes as it continues to try to remember something, anything, that would aid him during this moment. Ezreal cannot stop the small streams of tears that begin to flow from his eyes, as the question he asked echoes within the confined space.
The man sighs, and looks back at Ezreal with eyes of pity.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Ezreal. But everyone you know, including your spouse…is dead."
Is dead.
Is dead.
Is dead.
The two words reverberate throughout the explorer's mind with a vicious potency. All of them, his friends, family…gone. And he couldn't even remember what happened before he had slept.
His mind still rejects this notion, and as a last-ditch attempt, he throws out another inquiry, his voice laden with defiance; this could all just be a lie, a cheap trick.
But his heart knew that this could not be so.
"Then can you prove it to me? Can you prove that all you've said is true?"
The man sighs, and furrows his brow. Ezreal glares at him.
Finally, with a wave of his hand the man replies,
"As you wish."
Suddenly, glowing square screens materialize in front of Ezreal's face, taking him completely by surprise. His hand tentatively tries to touch one, but it swipes through with a soft hum. Then his eyes begin to look at what is displayed on them, his deepest fears proven to be true.
On each screen is displayed what he had asked for seconds before; proof.
Various newspaper articles, moving pictures, still images, anything and everything that could bring back his memory is shown all at once. Ezreal's eyes move at a terrifying speed as the information takes hold of his mind.
Unsteady Peace: Will the Institute Hold Up?
Aperture Industries hires Prodigal Explorer for Biggest Endeavor Yet
Demacia Conquers Freljord: Will This New Attitude of Demacia Shatter Valoran's Peace?
WAR: Battle for the Institute of War, Champions and Summoners Alike Fight to the Death!
Tragedy: Caitlyn, Sherriff of Piltover, First Casualty of League War
Suddenly, Ezreal remembers. Everything.
His hands grab his face as he curls up into a fetal position; the memories taking ahold of his entire being.