"Woah!"
Twisted fate's eyes shot open. He was still in a terrified state, remembering well that he was just descending into a room full of Noxians. But it was no longer the case.
He was still wearing his outfit, but his hands were tied in handcuffs. He was sitting on a soft black bench in a dim room, with white light piercing in from windows. Various men sat beside him, dressed in black armor without their helmets, and other men sat in front of him (there was a bench opposite him). Jarvan sat at the end of the bench, still wearing his armor but tied in handcuffs as well. Fortunately, the room was warm, for Twisted fate remembered well the chilliness outside.
The room shook occasionally, and Twisted fate thought it was quite similar to sitting in a car. In fact, the room he was in might be a car compartment.
Twisted fate thus presumed that they were in one of the black Noxian trucks he'd seen before his capture. And yes, Twisted fate figured out that he ended up here because he was captured.
He inspected the men sitting around him. Oddly, there was no Vayne or Lucian. Where were they?
"You're awake."
The Noxian sitting opposite him yawned, stretched his arms and gazed at him. He was a bearded man with a big nose.
"The legend himself. Right before my eyes."
Twisted fate gave a sigh.
"I've heard your stories. You're very well-known all over Runeterra. You're far more famous that you'll ever imagine."
Twisted fate had no idea whether he was praising him or something else.
"But you're weak. Much weaker than I thought."
Should've expected that.
"You saw us coming, didn't you? You could see us miles away when we're driving towards your location."
The gypsy grunted. He wasn't in a mood to answer questions.
"I bet you've intentionally tried your best not to cross paths with Katarina. She and her team went all over the place and couldn't see you."
That's right.
"But you couldn't see Agent 87."
?
"He stood above you. He crashed down to your floor and tore all the way through to the large room below you. He even tore away an entire chunk of ground under your feet. You and the Demacian dropped to the ground where we awaited. Jarvan's back slammed on the ground, but you had the luxury of Agent 87 saving your ass. He grabbed you in mid-air and landed before you hit the ground like the prince. But by then you had already fainted."
Agent 87? Who is he? He can tear through stone, demolish the entire floor, leap to catch me mid-air and land unscathed? Those feats cannot be accomplished by any person.
"How can he do all of that at once?"
The man looked surprised. He did not expect an answer.
"For a while, I thought you were dumb. Well, even I don't have much of an idea about that. Agent 87 sits at the top of our ranks. He's an assassin with powers that we cannot imagine, mostly because he's a servant of the Master of Death. The Master of Death claims that he knows you well, so he might have found out a way to…bypass your abilities."
Hm. Explains why I can't see this so-called "Agent 87" in the temple.
"Tell me, Twisted fate. Why will you want to come here? Surely there aren't any banks here?"
"I never knew that the Frejlord has banks."
"The Frejlord?"
The man raised his eyebrows, seemingly bewildered by what he had just said. He dropped his mouth, then suddenly burst into continuous laughter, as if he had heard a funny joke.
"What is so funny?"
The gypsy was certain he did not mispronounce the name. The other men sitting beside him turned to look at the man (with their helmets on so he couldn't see their faces). The man, upon realizing that everyone had their sights on him, halted in order to prevent further embarrassment.
"No, no…what I mean is it's humorous that you think Noxians will choose to set a base in Avarosan land. No, no, that's too obvious. But if you have no idea where this place is…then keep it to yourself. You don't need to know."
The man then stopped speaking altogether, probably embarrassed by the men glaring at him, and closed his eyes. The truck was once again quiet except the noise created by the constant shaking.
The fear struck the gypsy again as he, too, stopped speaking. He was about to be sent to the Noxian's headquarters, along with Jarvan. But Jarvan's presence was of no use. What could the two of them do when put under Noxian surveillance? Escape was impossible, and any attempts would prove futile. Thus, rather than devising a plan, he pondered of the bad things that would happen to him soon.
What would happen to him later on? Beaten? Humiliated? Brainwashed? Tortured? Stabbed in the head? He had no idea.
He looked into his own brain. As expected, he couldn't feel any mana in his body. They were undoubtedly taken away from him. The gypsy was uncertain of his future, but he was certain that it wouldn't be pretty. There was the slightest of hope in him, however, that Destiny itself would interfere and get him out of this trouble.
"Time to get off the truck, folks."
The doors opened on his left. The men inside the car took their weapons and got off one by one. Twisted fate was elbowed by a man sitting beside him—he complied with the order and leapt off the truck.
The surroundings were completely different now. They were in a large warehouse with lights high up in the ceiling. Several black trucks were parked beside theirs, with men leaping off the compartment one by one. The gypsy could see the entrance of the warehouse behind them, closed. The majority of soldiers eyed him (he could tell by their helmets) which made him quite uncomfortable.
One particular truck caught his attention. Walking out of that truck were the assassins that supposedly took him down. He spotted the red-haired woman and the man with blades all over his body, called "Talon".
Then there was a person who caught his immediate attention.
Interestingly, this man not only did not wear a helmet but also had a bare chest. He wore a black scarf that covered his neck and mouth. His black hair was unusually long, extending to his back, yet tidy. A brown-looking garment surrounded his waist and anything below it.
The man's eyes glared right into his. Twisted fate instantly got nervous as he stared into the man's black eyeballs. There was something unnerving about the man's eyes which he could not explain. It was unexpectedly…scary. He had a feeling that this man was a force to be reckoned with.
Wait…is he the Agent 87?
Someone pushed him from behind. Twisted fate turned to see a soldier standing behind him, pointing at the direction of the exit.
"Move, Twisted fate. Or we'll bash your brains out!"
The gypsy took no chance and hurried forward without a word. He noticed that the man (or Agent 87, as he presumed) took a sneaky glance at him for a split second before looking away.
He stepped into another corridor along with the Noxians. This corridor occupied a lot of people—in fact, hundreds of soldiers were walking around, crowding the area. To compensate, the corridor was wide and tall enough to space the soldiers. The corridor had walls built of brownish wood—expensive wood, as observed by the gypsy.
There was a large rectangular entrance on the right of the corridor with a metal door, which Twisted fate recognized to be a Hextech door (he had seen similarities in Piltover). He wondered what was behind the door because it was humongous in size.
"Stop goofing around, Twisted fate. March forward!"
The Hextech door wasn't the only door, however—there were many others in the corridor. They weren't as large as the initial one, however. Twisted fate watched as the men placed small cards on sensors beside the Hextech doors and entered as the doors gave way.
The gypsy looked up and saw a glass pane high above the ground on the wall. It was clear that behind the glass pane was a room. A figure could be seen behind the glass, but he was not just any typical figure.
The figure—a man—held a scepter made of steel. He was near bald with some hair in the middle, and his nose was unusually big. Anything below his nose was covered by green garment, including his mouth. The most striking characteristic, however, was the black bird on the man's shoulder. The black bird was a hideous beast, significantly larger than its own kind. If the red eyes, giant wingspan, and monstrous beaks were any guide, a clash with the bird would be a terrifying prospect. But Twisted fate had seen these birds before—notably in the forest, which was shot down by Vayne.
The looming figure standing above them all was no other than Swain, the infamous Master Tactician. His look was already villainous and cunning—even an idiot could work that out.
His crimson eyes stared down at him, and they kept eye contact for a few seconds. It was Swain who eventually decided to turn away, But even with his mouth hidden the gypsy supposed that behind the mask was an evil grin.
As Swain disappeared from the window, he noticed that they had reached the end of the corridor. One of the soldiers held a card at the sensor. The door then proceeded to give way and reveal what was behind.
It was more than familiar to Twisted fate—a jail hallway. This one looked no different from others—metal bars and the usual stuff.
"Get in."
The number of soldiers had reduced to only a few. The others were gone without a trace, and the corridor was hollow except for them. Still, the men were armed with heavy weapons and gear—certainly not a good time for any rebellious acts. Especially when Swain was right above you.
"That cell is your, Twisted fate. Get in!"
One of the men took out a set of keys, unlocked the jail door and gestured them to enter.
"Stop," came a voice from behind. "Lord Swain is here."
All of them turned back to see a large figure standing behind a group of soldiers. Undoubtedly, it was the same figure he saw at the window.
The men kneeled and bowed at the sight of Swain.
"Swain," spat Jarvan with a hostile tone. "How dare you show yourself in front of me."
"You haven't changed at all, Jarvan. Proud, confident, very Demacian-like…but you lack the intelligence and strength to be a threat."
Swain advanced towards them, step by step. The "tat-tat-tat" sound of his scepter made him the more menacing, and the bird beside him cawed in the creepiest way possible.
"What can you do now? You've fallen into my trap, your hands tied up, and now you choose to threaten me."
"Tell me, Swain. Who killed my father?"
"Technically, someone else conducted the killing. But your father's death…was ordered by me."
Jarvan roared and launched his fists forward, attempting to bash Swain's head with his fists, but was denied by his handcuffs. Two men standing beside the Demacian grabbed him instantly, dragging him back. Another man stood in front of Jarvan, drew out a small knife, held it right before his eyes for a few seconds before slashing the prince's cheeks.
A scar was formed on Jarvan's face, with trails of fresh blood running down his cheeks.
"Unfortunately, Jarvan, you are not in control here. You do it again, and I'll show you no mercy."
"You can kill me straight away now," said Jarvan. He was certainly bold.
"As much as I want to, there are more important affairs to attend to. Even with your death, Noxus still cannot conquer all of Runeterra. But when the Demon's portal is complete, all of you will suffer under my reign. My undead army will annihilate every nation. And yours, Jarvan, will be my prime target."
"You must have known what I'm talking about because you couldn't have reached here without that letter. The defeat of the High General was unexpected, but when news spread I knew you would track us down. But to reach the top of the Ironspike mountains there is only one way—to teleport from the College of Techmaturgy. I planned to strike you when you reached the portal, but you arrived far earlier than I expected. Still—escaping here is extremely difficult. I built a powerful radar here—it can detect anything within 20 miles. Your attempts in escaping have failed miserably, or else you won't be standing here."
Ironspike mountains? Damn, that was an unconventional location. But secretive enough.
"Still, I realize that you came in a group of four. Where are the other two?"
"They escaped," growled Jarvan. "And they will find a way to defeat you."
"Defeat me? I find it amusing that you think the four of you can beat the Noxian Empire. We have the best assassins of Runeterra standing right here. The Night Hunter might beat one or two, but can she defeat an entire army? I've never heard of the black guy, but he doesn't pose a threat to us. The radar will detect them and, soon, they will join you together in hell!"
"And before I actually put you to death, I want you to witness the destruction of your beloved family and nation. Your father's killed, and your mother's dead, but I know that there are those that you care about. When I unleash the wrath of my army on Demacia, I will let you witness the obliteration of your beloved nation. I will slaughter all but your loved ones. I will bring them personally to you—and tear them to shreds flesh by flesh. My birds will enjoy the snack of filthy Demacians. And then, when I confirm that every single Demacian is eliminated, I will send you to the Noxian Guillotine—performed by Darius himself. You will be humiliated and tortured greatly. By then, will you have my permission to die."
Jarvan's face was unmoved (still the angry look) but Twisted fate was obviously taken aback.
If Swain has planned such a gruesome death for Jarvan, what will become of me?
Nah, I'm no Demacian and I'm not as hated by Swain, unlike Jarvan.
"While we wait for Vayne's capture, perhaps I should take you to a tour at the spot where the Demon's portal is constructed. Soldiers, take them and follow me to the Construction room."
Then Swain continued his chat with Jarvan.
"You see, this building we're standing in doesn't appear out of nowhere. This is actually one of the Noxian military bases in our nation. But we teleported the entire facility to the peak of the mountains."
"How?" asked Jarvan.
"Have you heard of the 'World Runes'?"
Jarvan's mouth was frozen wide open upon hearing that.
"World Runes? The ancient magical artifacts of immense power discovered thousands of years ago?"
"You do have some knowledge of Runes, I suppose. Yes, you are correct. The World Runes possess powers out of our imaginations. But these artifacts were gone missing after the Great Rune War. They were either buried deep under our toes or in unreachable locations. As far as I know, these Runes have not been rediscovered anymore since the War. But things have changed."
"Years ago, a man came to Noxus and requested to see me. I declined at first, but he was much determined. I am impressed, so I have no choice but to see what this man is up to. I was surprised, however, when he showed me a World Rune. I asked for my men to inspect, and yes, it was genuine. I asked what he had retrieved it from, and he told me he had a large stockpile of it. I asked what I could do in exchange for those Runes, and he struck me a deal—he would give us all of the Runes, we use it to open the gates for monsters to enter our realm, we take over Runeterra, and in return I will allow him to rule a portion of Valoran. I was skeptical at first, but then he showed me that he wasn't bluffing at all—the World Runes were fabulous sources of power, able to do anything we want—including transferring this very building from Noxus to this mountain. We needed a secret location to conceal our plans from your prying eyes, and the World Runes helped us do just that. I was reluctant to share the land with this...Master of Death, but the World Runes might as well fulfill our long-time desires to rule Runeterra."
Twisted fate was still trying to comprehend the information. It was a lot to take in.
"Why did you kill my father then? If you didn't kill my father, we would have never known that you were up to such a scheme. You could have finished constructing the portal without our knowledge. Now, you are foolish enough that you reveal all of your plans to me. Believe me, I will put an end to all of this, Swain."
Swain chuckled. Twisted fate noticed that Swain's chuckle was very weird. Like his ravens.
"I will ensure that you won't get out of that cell. You can keep bluffing about your fantasies of yourself saving the world."
"One thing I really hate about your father is that he was the one who united all nations against Noxus. He was the one who assembled all the ambassadors of every major nation and signed the "Treaty of Justice" that is intended to isolate Noxus. Yes, even Zaun, our ally, was in that treaty. Even if Zaun still provides support to our nations, it can't do anything significant without the interruption of other nations. This is one of the reasons I decided to cooperate with the Master of Death to wipe out every single nation on this land."
"Including Zaun. How inhumane you are. Wiping out your allies as well as your enemies."
"You know we don't work that way, Jarvan. Noxus might be cruel, but we welcome anyone who joins our mighty empire with open arms. Just think about it—our military is diverse—we have Noxians, Piltoverians, Zaunites, Frejlordians, Yordles, Shurimans…heck, we even have Demacians in our ranks. These people are wise in the way that they know their own nations have no saving, but Noxus is the one that will defeat and rule all of Runeterra eventually. They gain the respect of Noxus, and they live happily here, enjoying the luxuries and wealth of our nation."
"Bullshit. I will never fall for your lies."
"This is why I said you're unintelligent. You're blind to the reality right in front of you and instead, you just see the dreams and imaginations of a peaceful world under the rule of Demacia."
"Demacia does not rule Runeterra. Runeterra belongs to everyone and every nation!"
"Really? You think that none of us will be the ultimate conqueror? Demacia and Noxus have the strongest military among all nations. If it isn't me, it's you that will gain control of the land. Too bad I'm gaining the upper hand to wipe you out first."
"You're wrong, Swain. You just take it for granted that every nation wants Runeterra to be their own, whereas the reality is that Noxus is the only one with an expansionist policy. You are the blind one, Swain, even with your bird-like big eyes."
Swain then ceased talking. Twisted fate watched as they reached the large Hextech door the gypsy had seen right as he stepped into the corridor. One man placed his card on a sensor beside the door, and the door slid upwards.
"You always say Demacia is an international police. You uphold the values of justice and you interfere with disputes between nations. But I don't see much justice when our men infiltrated your ranks. When we bribed them with wealth and power, they succumbed easily. We thought that asking Demacians to switch sides will be difficult, but in only a night we have already convinced one percent of your army to join us in secret. I'm severely disappointed in the fact that a nation that believes 'Justice above all' has such a corrupted military. What is your say on that, Jarvan?"
This time, Jarvan did not say anything. He just stared at Swain with fiery eyes and grinding teeth, but no words came out of his mouth.
"I guess you have to concede the fact that you're disappointed as well. Or else why would such a large-scale incident happen in Demacia, right? I suppose you have put a considerable amount of trust on the High General. And look what he turned out to be."
They stepped into the door. Behind the Hextech door was another giant room, where many soldiers dwelled. A massive structure stood in the center.
The structure was quite high, with its height nearing the ceiling of the room and was a hemisphere in shape like a gate. It was like an arch as well because a smaller hemisphere was cut in the center. It was made of gold, with five circles on it that made the portal look symmetric. There were ladders and stages everywhere around the structure, with men climbing on them to reach the top of the portal. There were many workers–more than 50, at first glance.
"This is the Demon's portal, Jarvan. It is a machine fueled by the power of World Runes. They will connect the two realms and bring about the terrors of the Void and Shadow Isles to this world."
Twisted fate gasped. After all this time they've searched for the portal, it now stands right before his eyes. He couldn't believe his luck.
A beautiful and spectacular portal, in fact. If it isn't used for such devilish purposes.
"Why build a golden gate?" asked Jarvan.
"In order to teleport between dimensions, the magical energy must form a ring to surround the entrance. That is why it looks like an arch. But the raw magic of the Runes can easily shatter the material used to contain it. However, we used a special type of gold that is very much indestructible, so it wouldn't break apart when the portal activates."
Twisted fate liked the fact that Swain was totally oblivious to Twisted fate's presence. He was glad, though, that he need not take Swain's insults.
"Now that you've seen enough, it's time that I send you back into your cell so that you can realize how foolish you are to come here. Maybe I can even convince you to switch sides. It will be a miracle to see Prince Jarvan the Fourth become a Noxian."
"When I step out of this cell, Swain, I will find you, rip your ravens into pieces and stab you repeatedly to the point that you become unrecognizable as a dead body. I will dump you to a volcano and watch as you burn in eternal hell. Mark my words, Swain. The only thing that is keeping you alive is the handcuffs on my fists," Jarvan threatened.
One soldier tried to punch Jarvan at the face but was stopped by Swain.
"Let him make the hollow threats, soldier. He can keep talking but in the end, he'll just end up being a loser."
Swain stood in the distance as Jarvan and Twisted fate were forcefully taken to jail by the soldiers. Up till now, Swain had not removed his mask.
"Wait in your cell as we continue to search for your comrades."
What's that noise?
It was the first question that popped out of Twisted fate's mind. Mainly because he awoke abruptly during his sleep and the first thing he heard were strange noises.
For some reason, he felt extraordinarily tired that day. Swain's little tour itself was not exhausting, but sitting in an isolated cell with no entertainment at all was an issue. It was nowhere comfortable sitting in such a small area without anything smooth to lean against, plus the fact that the temperature was unbearable. Spending a day here in the cell (he had no idea how long his stay was) made his back ache and his legs worn out. He was treated very harshly without any food or water supply until now. His lips were chapped and his throat was drier than a desert. He'd heard that dehydration could kill in less than three days, and he wasn't sure if he could get access to any more of the precious liquid.
The cell was pitch black. It was near silent, except for a distant sound of snoring which he had no idea who it belonged to.
He found it difficult to sleep though. Of the innumerous locations he had slept in the past, he found this cell to be the most uninhabitable—he had zero sense of security. Sooner or later a pest might emerge and bite him in the darkness, or a soldier might intrude and kill him mid-sleep. Either way, these threats induced him to keep himself awake by any means.
Twisted fate had tried his best to be conscious but must have accidentally dozed off. The gypsy just sat there, wondering what he could do. He wouldn't do anything simply because he couldn't. He had remained in the same position for hours, and decided to continue until the next day when the worse was to come.
Perhaps I should just go back to my dreams.
But his plans were thwarted as suddenly his pupils detected bright light.
The steel bars were pushed aside as Noxian soldiers intruded into his small cell. Their flashlights shone onto Twisted fate's face, blinding him.
"Hey, get the lights off me—mmph!"
The gypsy could feel his head wrapped up by something. His sight became dark instantly, and judging by the sound he could deduce what was happening—the soldiers was covering his head with a bag. He felt hands on his arms and was forcefully lifted off the ground, inducing him to stand by himself.
Though he wasn't quite pleased with the disruption the men created during his sleeping hours. But he wasn't the one in control. Worse still, why was he taken away?
"Wait…why take me now?"
"Swain has authorized you to a therapy session."
"Therapy? What's wrong with me?"
"You misunderstood, Twisted fate."
The gypsy heard a sinister chuckle.
"It's another term for 'torture'."
Author's note:
A villainous Swain pulling the strings! Anyway, Twisted fate is next in line for an agonizing, unnerving torture! What will lie in store for him?