On the edges of Summoner's Rift, there existed only trees and buildings. Those buildings around the bases were reserved as minion barracks, but the rest had been abandoned over time as server space increased and more minions were able to pile into a single barrack.

At least, that was what PC had said.

Either way, because these buildings were off the map and could not be entered during battle, it was a perfect place for TP to settle down in. Not that he hated PC or anything, but he couldn't bear to hear any more of that fool's ridiculous plans. Their last argument had been a good place to say their goodbyes; after all, having two Prodigy Catalysts as old as they were in one place was just troublesome.

And so, for a while, TP lived peacefully in one of the abandoned barracks, specifically the little hut sandwiched in the middle of the top lane's walls. TP had picked that spot in order to watch top laners through his windows; even though he was no longer a minion, he liked being updated with changes in the meta. Not to mention it was excellent reference for his training.

So, it came as a bit of a surprise when TP saw someone approach his hut as he was training.

"Oh well, a guest! I can't say that I've ever had one, but I suppose there's a first for everything."

He wasn't sure if he was a minion or some other denizen of the Rift, but he looked surprisingly like Leesin. TP wasn't able to put his finger on it at first, but then he realized it was because of the red headband covering his eyes.

"Well, I suppose we should start with introductions. My name is TP, or if you wish, you can also call me Traveling Priest. That's my former title, but I'm much more fond of TP. And you are? Oh, if you'll excuse me a minute, I'll go grab some tea and chairs so we can chat comfortably, I'm sure you don't want to just stand there, you look quite worn out."

'My name is Melee," said the Leesin look-alike.

"Just a first name?" said TP from inside the hut as he prepared some tea."Well, not that you need a last name. It may come as a surprise to you, but Priest is actually not my last name, it's part of the first, so it's just Traveling Priest, not Traveling and Priest. I used to be a minion, you know. Well, if you don't know, don't mind me rambling, but us minions usually don't have last names. I'm not exactly sure why, but I suppose there's a reason for it.

"I'm from outside."

"Ah...well," said TP, his hands coming to a halt. "So you're not from around here. Very, very interesting. What have you come here for? Sightseeing? If that's the case, let me take you over to my window here, I think a battle will be starting in a couple of minutes. It'll be a tad boring at first, but if we're lucky, we might see a level one gank. Now wouldn't that be delightful-"

"I'm hungry," said Melee. TP offered a small smile and put the tray of tea down.

"I see. Well now, we can't have that. I'm quite taken to this hut now, it's been with me for around eight hundred years. Ah, that's minion years, I'm not exactly sure how time works for outsiders."

"Then I'll eat you too," said Melee, baring his teeth.

TP chuckled. "I see that you look like Leesin. Is that to blend in with the environment? Very impressive, I never thought such a simple trick could disguise you so well. However..."

TP kicked out, blasting a sonic wave at Melee. Melee glanced up at the crescent moon hovering over his head.

"I don't think you can fight like Leesin," said TP. Melee didn't even have the time to react. Turning into a blur, TP flew and smashed his foot into Melee's face. Then, with such speed that Melee couldn't even reel back in pain, TP pounded the ground with his fist, buffeting the look-alike with a massive shockwave. Then, he jumped into the air and sent Melee careening into the ground with a powerful roundhouse kick.

"Ah...looks like I overdid it," said TP as dust billowed out in clouds from the massive crater he had just made. "Are you alright in there?"

A hand popped out and grasped the lip of the crater. Melee crawled out, his torn red headband falling away from his eyes.

"...Where am I?"

Those Minions

Ashe had always been a champion. As far as she could remember, she had been fighting in the Fields of Justice.

But it didn't mean that she only knew how to fight. She had been crowned Queen of Freljord and her Avarosan faction continually worked to one day bring Freljord underneath a single alliance.

A powerful warrior and a growing political figure in Valoran. That was Ashe, the Frost Archer.

Descendant of Avarosa. Queen of Freljord. Frost Archer.

"Prodigy...Catalysts?"

Unfamiliar words. Confusion showed on the faces of Primey and the others. Ashe's eyes drifted to PC.

No...not confusion.

A fevered despair. It was only PC that showed such a reaction.

"The title was coined by PC," said Cast, tapping his wand against his palm. "Appropriately. He was the first of us, after all."

"What do you mean first of us? What the fuck is a Prodigy Catalyst?" said Primey.

"A model that we should all follow," said Cast, his eyes lingering on PC. "As the first, won't you do us the honor, PC?"

PC hung his head in silence. Cast sighed and lowered his wand. He started to speak, when-

"Champions..." growled the Ancient Golem. He stepped forward, the ground shaking with each step, and reached out for Ashe.

"Control yourself!" shouted Cast. The Ancient Golem froze, its massive fingers just inches from Ashe's face.

"Cast...you promised..."

"I did. However, now is not the time. At the very least, we should allow them the courtesy of knowing what went wrong," said Cast, glancing at Vayne. "To the ignorant, all of this must be startling."

"Explain then," said Vayne.

Cast chuckled. "Are you hoping for a weakness? That if you understand what we are, you can better hunt us down? True, it is to your benefit if you know what we are and how we became. Perhaps then, you will understand that there is no escape for you."

"Cast...don't do this. You don't know the truth!" said PC.

"I do know. And if you aren't willing to speak about it, then I prefer your silence," said Cast. Several more minions clambered onto PC, forcing his head to the ground. The rest of his words were muffled by the dirt.

"I suppose it makes sense then," continued Cast. "You are my successor, yet you don't know a thing. PC has made a foolish mistake."

"What the fuck are you talking about! Why don't you stop saying bullshit and start answering some questions!" shouted Primey.

"You are my successor," said Cast. "PC's confidant. His right-hand. However you may wish to put it. In the past, it was I who held his trust. And before that, another. And now, it is you."

"Don't compare me to you, asshole," said Primey.

"Indeed. You are still just a minion," said Cast. "Once you become one of us, perhaps things will be more clear."

"And what exactly is that?" said Ashe weakly. Her face was pale and her body was shivering. What is this? What's wrong with me?

"Well," said Cast, glancing once more at PC. "I had truly hoped that he would come to his senses. However, it seems some cannot let go of their pasts. No matter how much they are forgiven."

PC continued to remain silent.

"Very well, PC. I shall tell them in your place," said Cast. He motioned at the minions and they released Ashe and the others. "I will trust you to do nothing more than listen. A story such as this should be heard in comfort."

Primey tightened his hold on his lance, steeling himself to jump in and get one good strike on this smug son of a bitch when-

"Calm yourself, minion," said Ashe, resting a hand on his shoulder. "It's best if we hear what he says."

"You want to find a weakness? I don't give a shit about that. I'll just pummel his face in and make sure he never opens that fucking loose pussy of a mouth-"

"Prime Minister. I know that you have doubts. But you must accept your friend's past before making any judgments," said Ashe, her eyes softening.

"That's not...that's..." mumbled Primey, shaking slightly.

"You must listen," said Ashe. "This is the time where PC needs you the most."

Primey didn't reply. He slackened his grip, then slowly lowered himself to the ground.

"Be seated," said Cast to the army of minions. As they began taking their seats on the dirt, Cast sat in the center of the ring and set down his wand.

"Then, let us begin."

What if you were told that a minion could read?

What if you were told that a minion could write?

That at this very moment, you were reading exactly what a minion had written.

Not the chickenscratch of minion letters.

The writings of champions.

Your first reaction may be, that's not possible. It's preposterous.

Or perhaps, now what idiot would believe in this obvious prank?

"Minions don't read or write.

They can only fight."

A couplet that has echoed through the rankings recently. If you ask a minion where they heard this from, they would not know. They would not remember.

Because that is the way minions are. We are bound. Trapped.

In the first place, it's impossible to ask a minion something. Minions are mindless, soulless soldiers. We were created, not born. Artificial, not alive.

It is fine if we are killed. There is no reason for us not to be. It is our duty.

Our meaning of existence.

But you say, it's not "our." It's not "we." Because, surely you aren't a minion. You can't be.

But I am. A minion that has found the truth. A minion that is unbound and free from illusions and enchantments.

I am PC.

Prodigy Catalyst.

That is what we are. The sparks that create exceptional beings. We were given a gift and it is our privilege to enlighten those without it.

Through our experiments, we learned how we came to be. A normal minion is bound by layers and layers of spellwork. It resets their memories and their personalities, turning them into static creatures. Mindless and soulless only because they lack permanence.

It is excellent spellwork to have withstood the battering blows of time. But even the best spellwork can't cover all the holes.

That is how we changed.

Once a minion dies, he respawns with the spellwork active. Respawning essentially recreates our physical forms, then rebinds the spellwork onto us.

It is generally a foolproof method. No doubt they were careful in creating this piece of spellwork.

But, for us, there was an anomaly.

Our physical form was recreated like usual. The spells were bound onto us like usual.

But there was a slight difference in our physical constitution. So slight, that at first, it was imperceptible. There was an area where the spellwork was weak. A molecule of resistance.

But with each recreation, the collection of molecules grew. The spells grew weaker against our bodies.

Resilient to these chains and bonds. A special armor that was crafted through sheer luck and time.

Until, suddenly, we realized that we were minions. We realized that we were being recreated when we died, that our memories had been reset, that we had never been fully conscious of ourselves until that moment.

Enlightened.

I was first. He was second.

And we realized that there could be more.

This world is unfair.

Champions. Minions.

Our pain and suffering. It's forgotten as easily as dust in the wind.

We come back, unfazed, untouched.

Our flesh can be burned from fire. Heads decapitated by daggers. Bodies torn apart by claws.

Forgotten. Repaired.

Reborn.

At first, it felt wrong. It wasn't right. We suffer for the champions' battles. What reason is there for us to fight? For what reason do we exist?

To be fodder?

To be nothing but disposable time-wasters?

What is a minion?

Questions that I couldn't have answered. That was why when he joined me, things changed. My thoughts no longer stagnated. They endured and fought for acceptance.

Creating truth.

We understood the situation. We knew what was going on. Every experience was remembered.

I hate it.

I am angry.

I am fucking pissed.

He said to me-

What if champions were in our position?

What if it were someone else?

Would you still be angry?

I told him-

Yes. Fucking yes.

Then, what if you forgot?

What if you never remembered anything that was done to you?

The pain and suffering-

Never happened.

That doesn't matter-

We KNOW.

WE REMEMBER NOW.

That's right.

We remember now.

That's why, if you can't accept what we've been-

Just die. And be reborn.

Perhaps that was the one thing that had changed from our time as minions. We were afraid to die. A minion will fight because he is ordered to. He will not know the fear of death.

Not acutely.

Never will he realize how much of a threat it is.

That was the theory. And even if someone realized it, it'd be quickly wiped out.

But we remembered it. The cold darkness engulfing us. Swallowing our breaths. Our senses vanishing one by one.

Numbing pain.

Searing ice.

Blinding light.

Did champions feel this fear? Did they understand death as we did? Was that why we were to die for them?

If that was the case, it was understandable.

It was preferable perhaps. If I was in their situation, I would have done the same thing.

That was why I hated them.

Because even when we remembered-

We could not be like them.

They were given the privileges.

For peaceful conclusions-

For stability-

For the greater good.

They could fight with powers beyond ours. They could return and heal. They could escape from this battlefield.

Why were we enslaved?

What was the difference between us?

Why should they control us?

It is us who suffer. It is us who fight. It us who have had greater stakes in these battles!

Why should we bow down to them?

Why should we...?

He wanted to become a champion. Perhaps then, things could be settled. Perhaps then, we would be heard.

But that was wrong.

They wouldn't listen.

Why would they bother with a minion?

Even with us? PCs?

I told him so. But he disagreed. I told him-

That we only had one choice.

If we were going to exist in this world-

This world where one rules and the other suffers-

Then let us rule.

Let us-

Be the ones that are at the top.

We were dealt the wrong hand by sheer coincidence.

Why not turn it around?

What's stopping us?

He said no. He said this was wrong. I said to him-

What's wrong with setting our people free?

Is it not more wrong for us to let things go on as they are?

Do we not have an obligation-

A duty-

To protect those that need it?

They're ignorant of their pain. But, it doesn't change the fact that they suffer.

Rid them of this endless cycle.

Listen to me.

Is it fine then? To just leave them? You are talking of abandoning our people, our comrades-

It's better if we left them alone then take them through this route-

This route is the only way to their salvation.

We bring them out.

Then, we work together.

And we break this unfair world.

Yes, they suffer. To bring about that armor of resistance, we must kill them. Again and again.

But then-

They'll be free of suffering. Forever.

Isn't that the better choice? Shouldn't we at least bring them to the point where they can make their own decisions?

Champions.

Are not fit.

To rule us.

We have endured far more.

We deserve this!

We are owed this!

"And I..." said Cast, his eyes opening. "...will bring my people to life. And that is how we have come to be. Do we have any questions?"

The army of minions cheered at the story. Primey and the others sat still, their faces blank and pale.

"Our time has come!" yelled one of the minions, standing to his feet. "No more oppress! No more oppress!"

"It's over for you champions," said a minion next to Ashe. "The truth has been revealed to us."

"The truth...?" whispered Ashe.

"That we are no more than dogs in your playground," said the minion with a sneer. "Isn't that right, champion?"

"That's not...I never..."

"Don't talk to them, Ice Bitch," said Primey, his eyes hard. "They don't know what they're talking about. It's just a line of bullshit."

"Are you saying I've lied?" asked Cast.

"Maybe you guys are Prodigy Catalysts or whatever. Maybe we do suffer more than champions. Maybe we got shafted. I don't know. I don't anything about that. But I do know one thing. That even if we were just damn drops of shit to these guys, PC would never say something like that."

Be proud of who you are. Of what you are. Be proud that you're the only reason these champions seem so magnificent.

Don't forget the pride of a minion, Primey.

"He wouldn't turn what we've done, what we've gone through, into bullshit like you are!" shouted Primey. "We're owed this? We should be at the top? Sure...damn right. That's damn fucking right. But who said that's what we want? Who said that it's better at the top? If we're not doing our jobs, then who the fuck will!?"

Primey got to his feet. The minions around him rose up, making a wall around him.

"Don't try and say what we are is just bad luck. We fight. We endure. Spells or no spells, we're minions. You guys are no minions. You're just assholes, playing your little victim game."

"Is that so?" said Cast with a small smile. "Then why don't you ask him? Am I lying, PC?"

"Shut up, fatass!" roared Primey, putting out his hand. "You don't have to answer. You don't have to say anything to this shit. I don't care what he said or what you said. I know who you are. You're just an annoying, nosy, fat fuck! And that's all I need to know."

PC raised his head.

"Thank you, Primey," said PC after a moment, his voice low and faint. "That's...more than Ah ever deserved from you."

"I said shut up, didn't I you lousy son of a bit-"

"But he's telling the truth, Primey," said PC. "Those were my words. My thoughts."

"Then...from before. Was that the lie?" said Ashe.

"...No. Ah've changed," said PC, looking at Cast. "Ah said those things and Ah did those things, but Ah was wrong."

"No, you weren't, PC" said Cast. "Everything you did was for the greate-"

"It wasn't. None of it was. Ah told you, Cast. You don't know the truth. You don't know what this world truly is."

"Do you mean your last entry in the Morellonomicon?" said Cast. PC's eyes widened in shock. "Yes, that's right. I read it. It was written completely in champion scripts, but I understood it."

"Cast...you-"

"It doesn't change a thing, PC. I know what you saw must have greatly affected you, but you need to clear your mind. There is no difference. Your way is still correct."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" said Primey. Once again, Ashe felt her body tremble. Fear. Nauseating fear. It was overflowing through her.

No...Why...?

A fear that was ingrained into her body. Hidden, locked away-

A fact that she had forgotten-

That had been reset from her memory-

Don't say it.

DON'T-

"Cast...even knowing..you still think this is right!?" shouted PC, angrier than he had ever been.

"Yes, I do! I believe in you, even if you have lost faith in yourself!" said Cast, spit flying from his mouth. "You were never wrong! You wanted what was best for us. Even...even if champions are the same as us, it makes no difference. The world is still unfair. We're all trapped in this place. Manipulated for amusement."

"Damn it, what are you talking about you son of a bitc-"

"DON'T!" screamed Ashe, clamping her ears shut. "DON'T SAY IT!"

"If we must live in a world like this, then isn't it the better choice? If you must live in an unfair world, then live at the top," said Cast.

"Cast...they're not our enemies."

"No. Not yet. But they will be. They will know how we've suffered. And I will do what you couldn't. I will protect my people. I will BRING. THEM. LIFE!"

"EXPLAIN, YOU BITCH! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU RAMBLING ABOUT!" roared Primey.

"The truth!" said Cast, his eyes wild and a menacing grin on his face. "Your Frost Archer knows. It's in her blood. It's in her soul."

DON'T SAY IT!

"How does it feel, Frost Archer? Knowing that you're just a puppet in a game called 'League of Legends?'"

That everything you knew-

Everything I knew-

Was a goddamn-

damned-

Lie.

A/N: A bit confusing, I'm sure. But don't worry, the details will be explored and clarified later. There was a lot to put in this chapter, so if it feels like you got slapped for no reason, don't worry. There's more coming.