Wings of Freedom
Prologue:
LeBlanc walked slyly down the dark hall which the very walls themselves seemed to consume light and reflect only blackness. Her purple and gold embroidered cape dragged gracefully behind her, brushing against the bright red carpeting as she took her careful steps. The halls of the Noxian High Command buildings were always so grim and lifeless, as decreed by Swain who had detested the sun's light. Always so grim and dark, the Deceiver thought, perfect for a trick.
As she made several turns and descents, the hall became illuminated by this artificial eerie light with a sickening green taint. Her shadows melded with the lamps and became an amalgamation of the creeping darkness lurking down the corners and layers of the hallways. Soon, she encountered a doorway with two large wooden gates held up by a series of bolts and nails. They were slightly ajar, allowing a stream of flickering orange softly pour out onto the red flooring. Silently, she entered with a polite bow before even making any eye contact.
Within the tight chamber was a singular round table constructed of the rarest ivory and pine wood and upon it sat six figures with Leblanc herself making the seventh. A faint candle was lit in the middle, bathing the room with soft dim glow, becoming the only natural thing around these iron walls.
From left to right, the figures sat in various poses according to their liking; some stern, some laid back, some indifferent and some sinister. LeBlanc found her seat opposite of the main man at one end of the eternal circular table. His fists were held together upon a grand wooden cane and adorned a robe most luxurious of Noxian tastes and upon his left shoulder was an unnatural winged beasts whose six crimson eyes would stare into your soul.
The man began to talk, his raspy voice was slightly muffled by a wool mask, "The pride of Noxus now lay upon our hands lady and gentlemen. This is no longer the era in which we are constantly opposed, no, this is a new age. The Noxian age. We must show to the world our might, and we shall do that first by crushing the souls of those few who still stands bravely, albeit futilely and foolishly, in our path."
A seated man dressed in an extravagant red coat whose two pupil-less eyes deeply intrigued LeBlanc, cleared his throat and opened those reddened lips as though preparing for a grand feast.
"The Demacian grounds are now under our control, and Project Zealot is well underway I assure you. The endless power which we may extract from it will allow us to consume and devour our foes. There will be questions none, it shall be complete within a few month's time."
Several nods of approval came from the table.
"Then when do we get to put on a show? Come on, we've got all this damn land now, let's just round em' all up and let me give you guys the greatest, most fucking awesome show ever! The best execution is a fancy one! " a rowdy and mustached man spoke while fancily whirling about two deadly looking blades. He then took up his mug of ale and downed it within a second before releasing a belch followed by the brief stench of alcohol in the chamber.
A massive, burly man whose appearance told the story of a merciless warrior slammed his gauntlets on the table, causing even the floor to shudder.
"Marshal, when do we get to crush those rebels? I've been waiting for so long yet no orders have been given. I request you to allow me to have the honor to bring to your their heads!" he angrily roared while holding up a wicked axe which was capable of cleaning cutting a man in half.
Then, a woman whose upper body was that of a beautiful temptress and her lower that of a snake, seductively slithered to the man and began playfully teasing him, softly bring her finger down his plated chest.
"Oh, don't be such a grunt, we all need times to ease ourselves, come find me at my chambers and I will assure you a most memorable experience," her sly voice joked. The man, groaned and lightly pushed her aside before setting his axe back down.
Just as LeBlanc was about to speak, she was interrupted by a voice from the shadows. A most mysterious man, his face was concealed by the void which had consumed that particular corner of the room, leaving no light. She was not sure if a man was even there, just a shadow perhaps and no more still a lingering presence of that man chilled her skin.
"We try so hard, yet can never achieve what... what... what she achieved," the man began in a low voice, "you cannot call it jealousy, just a will to protect, is it now? Hmm..."
LeBlanc squinted her eyes to try and get a better view but suddenly the shadows from the man began spilling over the entire room. LeBlanc looked on in horror as the seated figures seemed to be unaware of it before getting devoured by the blackness, leaving nothing behind. She tried to run but found that the door had been replaced by a wall as the darkness crept ever closer towards her. With her back pressed against the wall, she tried to escape it but it was already too late. The shadows had all but consumed her feet, sending deathly chills all over her body, then it was her thighs, her body and neck and within seconds her eyes too had been devoured. She tried to scream out but no sound escaped those throats.
She screamed and her eyes opened. The darkness was gone, so was the chamber and the people. She got up from her bed and found that she was breathing heavily and her heart beating madly. She quickly glanced her weary eyes around and saw the moon's soft twilight bathing the room as a slight breeze rolled in through a window's cracks. Now, she realized the clock's slow ticking was the only sound in the deep silence of night along with her faint breathing.
3:59, it ticked. It has begun.
AN: Alright everyone this is my second fanfic, I've intended to make it dark, dramatic and filled with character deaths. It will take place in a dystopic alternative Valoran. For some who are wondering, it is NOT a sequel to my first story. There may be some allusions but overall this is a fresh new one starring Katarina. So, please read and review and enjoy!