One Week After Kalamanda

Noxus

"Heed these words, unfortunate soul."

Katarina wasn't sure how many times she had read this introduction over the past few days. At least, it seemed like days. It could have been hours. The sun was not visible, and the only light came from the dim glow of hextech illumination peeking through the crack in the ceiling of the pit.

"If you are reading this note, you have doubtless fallen to a trap set by the Black Rose cult, or perhaps Jericho Swain. Either way, you may be doomed."

The heir to the DuCouteau line and her bodyguard, Talon, had been locked away here since Swain revealed his plot. Their only company was the occasional rat, often quickly disposed of by a swift dagger strike, and a skeleton, clothed in an undershirt and cloth pants.

"I estimate I have been here for four to six days. I was tricked and lured to this once sacred site of Noxian strength, and I have been fed five times."

That sounded similar as well. Every once in a while, the ceiling would slide open a tad, and a few pieces of bread would be slipped through. Clearly, Swain didn't want to remove an option by killing them so soon. Or he was simply torturing his defeated rivals. Katarina honestly didn't know which scenario she preferred to imagine.

"However, it may be your only chance. During my captivity, I fashioned a metal hook from the remains of my dagger, and hid it under a brick in this damned pit. If you can find a way to wedge it inside the door, perhaps you can escape."

She glanced over at Talon as she pored over this sentence again. Their weapons had broken from the fall, but Talon's cloak was intact. Using the broken steel, they had cut the purple garment into long, thin strips of leather, tying them together to form a makeshift rope. It had taken them a long time to find the hook mentioned in the note, but Talon had eventually unearthed it, buried not only beneath a loose brick, but also a thick layer of grime. The lack of proper lighting didn't help matters. With the rope prepared and the hook recovered, the assassins assembled a grappling hook.

"I, however, am doomed. This I know to be true. For the man or woman who finds this note, I ask two things. First, to expose Jericho Swain and his minions before it is too late, and he becomes influential in our great city. Second, to tell my daughters that I have always loved them, up until the day I died.

Glory to Noxus,
General Marcus DuCouteau"

This had been her father's fate. Death by the hands of the traitorous Swain. And yet, Katarina was not satisfied with this knowledge. She had spent years searching for Marcus DuCouteau, and, upon finding him, learned that she could never fulfill his first dying wish. Jericho Swain was now Grand General of Noxus. The second, she had already always known.

There was a loud rumble as the stone ceiling was gently pulled apart. The room was filled with a comparatively blinding light. An armored hand reached out and dropped two apples into the pit, then disappeared. Wordlessly, Katarina nodded to Talon, who took the hook and tossed it, hard, into the air. She held her breath as it flew, rising to clip the top of the pit, and making a quiet squeak as it burrowed into the stone. The pair stayed silent as the guard's footsteps grew quieter, and the pit's lid slid shut once more. This time, though, it could not close all the way, due to the hook wedging itself between the two slabs of stone. Their escape route was prepared. Talon looked at Katarina, his eyes shining. "Let's go."

"You first." Katarina said, glancing at the rope. "You weigh less without the cloak, less chance of the line snapping."

Talon scowled. "Don't say that." Katarina grinned in response, for what felt like the first time in months.

"What, not going to leave a man behind? Very Demacian of you, Talon."

The other assassin smirked. "No. Just don't let me think of it snapping. In case you forgot, this is our only way out." Carefully, he began to ascend the makeshift rope, clenching the leathery material with shaky hands. So far, it felt stable. The stagnant air of the prison gave Talon little room to stop and catch his breath, but his agility served him well, keeping his arms strong as he climbed to the roof. Now that he had reached it, he felt around the crack. The door was open wide enough for the hook's base, but not nearly enough for a human. Wedging his fingers inside, he pushed with all his strength, breathing a sigh of relief as the door began to slide open. It must operate on a locking system. He felt himself drift slightly backwards as the hook travelled, still stuck in the top of one half of the opening. Lifting himself out, he motioned to Katarina. They were finally out.

Standing on the edge of the opening, Katarina repeatedly tapped her hand against the wall, creating an echoing sound. She should have felt drained from the climb, along with the days of captivity, but she felt more energized than ever, half from relief at their escape, and half from the growing urge to stick a dagger through the Grand General's throat and avenge her father. Suddenly, the wall slid open, revealing a hidden door into the room, the same Swain had used when he trapped them. A black armored guard stared into the room. "What in the-"

Katarina leapt across the room, swinging her arms around the guard. Clasping his hands behind his back, she swiftly smacked the daggers from his belt and raised her leg, booting him forward and into the pit. By the time his scream was audible, he had already crashed against the floor below. "I see you haven't lost your touch…" muttered Talon as he slid across the outside of the room, careful not to follow the unfortunate soldier.

Talon followed closely behind his employer as she snuck through the halls of the underground complex. Something felt very familiar about this. The realization hit him quickly. "Make a left." he whispered. Katarina nodded and led them through an old, poorly maintained door. One that led directly into the sewers. Talon grinned. His childhood was finally coming in handy. The tight and curving structure of the hallways had seemed so familiar, and it was. Swain's secret base was built directly into the Noxian sewers, avoiding all that noisy and conspicuous excavation, he wagered. "Let me take point, Katarina." he said, stepping in front of her. "I know these tunnels like the back of my hand. I'll have us outside DuCouteau manor in minutes."

Following a long hike through a thoroughly unpleasant maze, Talon pushed up on a manhole and looked outside. The red flowers surrounding it were unmistakable, as were the towering stone pillars. They were finally home. Katarina exited first, stretching. "We aren't out of this yet." she whispered to her comrade. "Swain said he was going to tell Noxus we tried to kill him. If we're seen, I doubt we'll have time to explain our side of the story before we get skewered." Talon crossed his arms.

"You think they'd believe him over you? Even your own servants?" Katarina shook her head.

"I don't. But I doubt he's kept the servants around. I'm sure the mansion is filled with looters, trying to take the family treasures to fund Swain's armies. We'll need to be on the lookout for anything conspicuous." She walked forward quietly and opened the front door of the manor just a crack. "Anything at...what?" Inside the foyer was one of the most horrifying things she had ever seen.

Stone statues stood in rows, all depicting a tall, slender man, wielding a pair of axes. Portraits of him hung on the walls. The entire room was filled with images of the Glorious Executioner.

"Draven." muttered Talon, stepping inside. Katarina followed, her mouth agape in shock.

"My family's mansion...it's...it's a damn display case?"

"Well, I wanted bigger, but hey, what can ya do?" A sneering Draven stepped out from behind one of his statues, leaning against it as he laughed. "This is a hell of a start!"

"So, you're the dog Swain threw his new bone to?" Talon growled, raising his fists. Draven cackled, pointing at the assassins.

"Well now, I thought you guys were the bones by now." He chortled at his own attempt at humor. "Classic Draven."

Katarina withdrew one of the stolen daggers and tossed it at the executioner, who ducked behind a statue, leaving the blade embedded in the marble. "Hey! Don't scratch those. Got 'em on rush order. And hell, Swain wasn't the one who gave me this place." Draven reared his head back and shouted. "Hey, honey! Get out here! We got guests!"

"Coming!" came the reply from upstairs. Katarina's heart sank as she recognized the voice. She couldn't have done this.

Cassiopeia DuCouteau slithered down the steps, coiling around Draven and resting her head on his shoulder. "Mmmm...well, hello there, dear sister. Talon." The serpentine woman flashed her fangs. "Lovely to see you well."

"Cassiopeia...you didn't…" Talon was at a loss for words. Katarina stood, staring at her sister until Draven spoke up again.

"Yep! Me and Cass here got hitched a day or two after you left. Nowadays, this house is a nice, taxpaying residence, helping out the good ol' Grand General." Draven grinned wide. "And let me tell ya, I think it's never looked better!" Cassiopeia purred and used her hands to stroke Draven's mustache.

"Oh, honey, I'll let you get rid of this old news. But first, give me a kiss, will you?" cooed the snake, batting her eyelashes at Draven. Talon hacked in involuntary disgust.

"Well now! Why not. Hold on just a sec', redhead and knifeback. I gotta get some of this." As he turned to kiss Cassiopeia, lips pursed, she smiled and leaned in close. Then she screamed, her eyes glowing red, staring directly at Draven as his body turned gray and hard, slowly turning the braggart to stone. A few seconds later, it was over, and she turned to face her sister, quickly slithering across the floor and embracing Katarina. "Don't ever die on me again."

After a stunned silence, the questions started to pour out. Cassiopeia ushered Katarina and Talon into the corner of the room and began to explain.

"When I heard you tried to kill Swain, I knew something was wrong. After all, you wouldn't have been foolish enough to attack head on. He sent that idiot to collect the mansion, by force if necessary, but he apparently had a bit of a weakness for me. I exploited it. Draven has been bragging for days about his role in Swain's plans. There is much you need to know."

Cassiopeia explained what had happened over the past week. The Battle of Kalamanda, the fall of the League, the revelation of the Unholy Alliance, and Noxus separating itself from the rest of Runeterra.

"Prince Jarvan is dead, the Freljord is crawling with undead, the Institute is now Malzahar's fortress, and Swain somehow stands to profit from it all. He's been working with these gifts the Isles have been giving him...Draven said they're human souls, and that he's using them to power new weapons and technology."

"Wait," Katarina said, puzzled, "Swain knows how to turn souls into energy?" Cassiopeia raised a slender, green finger.

"No. He's got a tutor, someone who knows how to work with life energy. Draven says it's some guy who comes down from the mountains once a day or so...except for the past couple. Apparently there was a falling out, and he hasn't left."

"The mountains…" Talon turned to look at Katarina. "You don't think he's gotten him mixed up in all this?"

"I don't think it's a possibility we can ignore." Katarina replied, frowning. "Thank you, sister. You saved our lives. But you can't stay here. If they find out you killed Draven…" Cassiopeia giggled.

"He's not dead. Just a little...stoned. In a few days he'll be back to normal, more than enough time for me to pack up the valuables and go. There are no other guards of Swain's around right now. Usually one checks in every night." She smiled again. "I'll just tell them we got another statue made. I can be very persuasive. Now, go get a shower. You both smell like sewage."

The next day, Katarina and Talon, rearmed, fed, and bathed, set out from DuCouteau manor yet again. Cassiopeia's ruse had worked, but the majority of Noxus was still either fanatically loyal to Swain or too scared to defy him and his new allies. They were not safe there any longer. Instead, they opted to go west, towards the Voodoo Lands, making one crucial pit stop first. They stood in front of an old, abandoned monastery. The walls were cracked with age, and whatever religion had practiced here had long been forgotten. However, Katarina was familiar with one resident of the building. Opening the door, she drew her daggers. The small hall was slightly more welcoming inside, the stained glass windows letting in crimson streaks of light. Still, the room felt eerie, as if they were being watched. Talon drew his own blades and called out. "We know you're here. Come on out, this doesn't need to get violent."

"Now, now…" As a voice echoed against the walls, Katarina screamed, feeling a sudden jolt of pain as her own blood surged out of her. She collapsed, barely conscious, lifting her head slowly to see a ball of red fluid hovering in the air above her, and heard Talon shout and smash against the floor as well. Another ball appeared above his head as a figure emerged from the floor, seeping through the stone and forming into a solid entity. "Don't get all in a clot."

"Vladimir…" Katarina gasped, reaching out to grab at the hemomancer's cape. He effortlessly walked out of her range, staring at the blood balls in the air.

"Careful now, Miss DuCouteau. I wouldn't want to see you drain yourself." Vladimir grinned and sat on a pew in front of them, the red lighting revealing his face, drained of all color, and his hair, matted and out of shape. "I heard you were both dead. It seems you have a little more immortality to draw from than I thought."

Katarina couldn't help but notice something was off. Vladimir seemed more shaken than usual, his pompous facade feeling more like an act than she was used to. She looked him in the eyes and managed to force out a sentence. "Why did you help Swain?"

"I go with the flow." he whispered, his fingers miming an imaginary river in the air. "Noxus has always been ruled by the strongest, and it seems that now he is." Vladimir smiled again, leaning back. "I do believe in our homeland, you know. Noxus is my family." He leaned forward again, the crimson light emphasizing his scarlet lips. "And blood is thicker than water."

"You're lying." Talon groaned, using the last of his strength to lift himself onto his forearms. "You've never given a damn about Noxus. You're…"

Vladimir stood, quaking with anger. "Of course I love Noxus! Their blood runs in my veins! I am one of their champions!"

"No." Talon continued to moan, pushing the words out with all his effort. "You joined the League to kill, and not face the consequences. You take lives to fulfill your sick need to play with blood. You don't have the strength of a real killer."

The hemomancer roared with anger. Katarina noticed the balls of blood beginning to dissipate a little, and she felt some strength return. Vlad was losing his concentration. "I will kill for Noxus. We shall dominate this world!"

Katarina forced a mocking smile. "And what happens when you do, Vladimir? When everyone is Noxian, who will you kill? There will be no more freebies. You'll be a common serial killer, and you'll die. Just like all of them."

Vladimir staggered back, clearly upset, but trying to maintain his usual casual demeanor. "But...the souls...I can command souls! I have earned my place in Swain's new order. I am the only one who can prepare his new machines." A sense of calmness returned to the Crimson Reaper as he sat down again. "Yes...I am irreplaceable. I am the heart of the new Noxian war machine."

"Is that why you haven't been back in days?" asked Katarina, staring down the hemomancer. Vlad scoffed.

"So, you know about that too? It doesn't matter. He will come back to me. Nothing can live without a heart, and that includes Swain's armies."

Talon scoffed. "He's replaced you, Vladimir. He has the Shadow Isles on his side. You think you know more about souls than them? You were a temporary solution."

The shaking became apparent again as Vlad stood. It was even worse than before as the blood mage quaked in place, his eyes blank with horror. "I...I need them." he whispered.

Katarina could again feel the blood sinking back into her. "What do you need?"

"The souls…" Vladimir hissed, still shaking. "Blood...it's not enough. Not anymore. Swain showed me...he showed me the thrill of truly holding life in your hands. Bending it to your will, using it, yes...it is so much stronger than blood. So much more...satisfying." Unnerved, he sank to his knees, his unkempt hair draping his forehead in a white curtain. "It's everything I have ever wanted...and now he's cut me off! Says he can do without me! But I need them! I need them so much!" The spheres of blood faded away, pouring back into their owner's veins as the once proud Vladimir shook on the ground. "I have always been fascinated with controlling life, being the one to choose when it ends. I tasted the purest form of that power...and nothing can compare."

Katarina walked up to the hemomancer and kicked him, hard, knocking him on the ground. "You're pathetic, Vladimir. You have no country, no allies. Just a sick obsession, and those who let you play with it."

As Talon turned to leave, Katarina following, Vladimir called out after them. "You're just like me! You kill for a living!"

Talon growled and turned his head. "We kill for a purpose and a nation. You're nothing like us. You aren't even worth killing."

They left Vladimir on the floor of his ancient temple, cut off and alone. The Crimson Reaper was no longer a threat.