A/N - As you might have guessed, this story has been inspired by the teaser for the new Teemo skin released by Riot. Personally, I liked Teemo's story, but, cared very little for his character, how he was always portrayed. His lore was always dark and twisted, really, but in game, and, in many stories and whatnot, his depiction is always lighter. It doesn't help that he also has a negative reception due to him being very annoying in game. But, with the new teaser...especially with the new teaser...it just got a whole lot darker...and I love it. I was inspired to write immediately, and so, this is what will become the first chapter in an Epic that is, well, The End. The teaser wasn't about how happy or cute he is, wasn't about laughter, but was creepy and somber, dark and heavy, and, that is what I hope to accomplish, that is what I am good at writing, I guess. I feel there is more story to it, and, well, I have written many pieces, such as with Veigar, about madness and breaking down, and, sadly, Teemo is exactly like that. Its just never seen. That is, until today. I hope you follow this story, since, I plan to make it a long one, and if you enjoyed it, reviews and favorites are always welcome and appreciated. They make me want to work harder. Lastly, before the story, I want to dedicate this story in its entirety, if not the first chapter, to my good friend Vercopa for just being an awesome guy. Love you, brother. I hope you enjoy, I guess you can say this is just a short introduction, so, expect much more in future chapters. Thank you. -TSA
War Changes a Yordle
They all held some discontent towards the Yordle, although, to be perfectly honest, it was not as if he wasn't already used to it. As a young recruit, everyone, fellow trainees and drill instructors alike, were always unsettled by him. He was all smiles and laughter, but, the moment combat began, his eyes darkened, his jovial attitude was replaced with a much more serious and somber demeanor, his skills highly efficient. It was almost as if something just…turned off within him. Whatever that was…it was meant to keep him sane…to keep the burden of his duties, the heaviness of his actions, from breaking him. Maybe that is why he smiled so much, why he laughed and giggled. Maybe that is why he wore that mask.
And yet, even with his efforts, it eventually happened. He broke.
He stood in the room, the only light source a hanging lamp, although the light it provided was not much to begin with, it did give him enough to stare at what once was his desk, now littered with trophies. No, not trophies. He found no pride or gratification from the objects. Mementoes? No…they were not things he wanted to remember…and yet, they were exactly that. They were reminders. Reminders of his nightmares, reminders of the job he had to do, a reminder of the job he still has to do.
He took his helmet in his hands, a gas mask on the front of it. Omega Squad…he gripped it tightly, his knuckles turning white beneath his fur. They all wore masks…all of them…
The Institute of War was made to preserve the realm of Valoran, to end the grand scale wars of the many city-states, to preserve the already scarred land, withered by magic, to offer resolution through a different sort of battle, to end conflict on a smaller, controlled scale, and to ultimately, preserve life, to allow everyone to move forward. It wasn't until after the League disbanded, however, that he found out what that all truly meant…
While the Institute of War was operational, war, across all of Valoran, was banned. Headed by some of the most powerful sorcerers, they proved their strength. Should war continue as it had been for hundreds of years, the earth would burn. It just so happened that they had the ability to accelerate the process. In a way, it was necessary, but, the way they presented it was one that many questioned. Should all you want is an end, we will provide one for you. Unsettled factions joined the League, Demacia and Noxus both swallowing their pride, and soon, many more followed suit. Where at first the League was questioned heavily by everyone, it was soon embraced not long after joining. This was the best solution to their problems, many declared.
War was no longer needed, it seemed. But, it was not that the many factions did not want to go to war, as evident by their ever present conflicts and battles upon Summoner's Rift, but rather, they were not ALLOWED to. They complied with the League, for the betterment of the realm, but in truth, the real war still ragged on behind the curtains, in the shadows, fought not by soldiers but by assassins. He was a scout, first and foremost. The Swift Scout, they called him, and oh was he deserving of the title. As a member of Bandle City's intelligence team, The Scouts of the Mothership, he answered only to the council that ran Bandle, and, was regarded as their top recon specialist. A scout, always and forever…but, he was more than just that.
Regarded as one of the most dangerous Yordles, Teemo was the most unwaveringly unrepentant assassin in all of Bandle. It wasn't that he was the strongest that made him so dangerous, but that he was so controlled, that beneath all of his fur that happy demeanor, he was little more than a true monster. If someone were to tell him that, he might have replied with a chuckle and his trademark smile. Well, the old Teemo would have. Who he was now…he was no one, really…a ghost…if one were to look at the state of his hideout, they would say he was a madman, but, in truth, he was the only one who was not blind…he was the one with his eyes opened…well…he wasn't the first, he thought, noticing Veigar's Shamrock cap on the floor.
His archenemy. In the end, he felt a sort of empathy to the Master of Evil. In a way, he felt as though he understood and respected the Yordle. Because, in the end, it turned out to be him to open Teemo's eyes, to break him down and show him the truth to this world.
His grip on the helmet lightened as he turned it in his hands, looking inside, at the darkness. He put it on, slowly, this mask feeling more comfortable than his own skin, the mask his new face, his new identity. It all ends with him, he thought.
He looked around the room, at all the items he collected, all of the sins he had committed, their voices and screams filling his ears. He breathed heavily, the guttural sound within the gasmask as he took in oxygen helped to drown out the voices. He always heard voices, admittedly…well…he always heard a voice…a single, voice…his own…not the voice of the always smiling Teemo, but, his other self. And now, no longer could he hear that voice. Probably because that other side of him, WAS him now. Probably because, right now, all he wanted was quiet, was peace.
He often went on missions alone, knowing what it was that he became out there. But always, when he came back, he would have friends that he could be around. And yet, as he looked on his desk at Tristana's firefighter helmet, he knew that there was no one left. Even with all of his medals, he was no hero. After all, a hero would not have done what he did. After all, he belonged to no faction now, the medals serving as another reminder, of, perhaps, the kill that cut the deepest to him. The kill of Teemo, of who he once was. The smiling Yordle gone, a mask all that was left.
The medals were to remind him of who he once was, of what he once was, of what he could never become again. The medals were to remind him he was no longer that person, that the person who had received those medals died long ago.
He was truly alone. And, it seemed, that it would all end with him.
The camera started rolling…
"I used to live by a code…I've done things I'm not proud of…turns out…I've got a proficiency in killing…"
The camera recorded noisily as he stood behind it, looking at all the objects in the room. One last trip down memory lane, one last moment of silence, one last night full of nightmares…
This was his punishment…to relive it all one last time…
He sat before the camera, looking blankly into it, his face obscured by a dark gasmask.
"It all started…before the war started again…before the Omega Squad…it all started with the formation of the League…"