"Grand General Swain!"
Swain emerged from his personal office door, with an exasperated look on his face.
"What is it again? Can't you solve your problems yourself?"
"No, Grand General. The Runes base is under attack. Our forces are unable to fight against them—the men reported that a man whose body is glowing in blue, one guy holding a crossbow and one guy holding two guns that shoot lasers."
Swain cast a dirty look on the men.
"You're telling me that…they lost the territory?"
"Yes…Grand General."
Swain fell silent. His raven croaked—the men began to tremble at the sight of Swain, who seemed more and more like a giant by the second. For some reason, his silence made him the more menacing. Suddenly their eyes laid on Swain's scepter, with his talon-like fingernails grasping it as if his life depended on it.
"How did they allow such things to happen? You all know it is a crucial part of our scheme and it must be guarded at all costs!"
"I understand, Grand General. But the mage is too strong! He obliterates our forces with ease. He can tear pieces of land from the ground and toss it towards us. Assistance is needed."
Swain's face was impassive despite the bad news. Though one could feel the uneasy atmosphere when standing near him. A feeling of dread.
"Send the best men we have," he finally said, unexpectedly calm. "And I will go as well. I will personally reclaim the Rune building. It must not be lost to our enemies."
"Yes, sir."
"And send me the commander who is in charge of the building's safety, after we reclaim the building. I need to speak with him."
"Um…yes sir."
The soldiers knew the commander would be in very deep trouble—judging by Swain's past experiences with men who did not comply well with his orders.
Beneath the leader's mask was gritted, clenched teeth. So far his work was close to completion—yet it was at risk of total jeopardization. He wouldn't allow that to happen.
I will ensure filthy Demacians will not interfere with my master plan.
Twisted fate sat in the cell room.
A few hours ago it was said that a blizzard has struck—he acquired that information from passing guards, who were discussing the matter. At first, he had that slight hope the blizzard would, somehow, cause the building's destruction.
When it didn't, obviously, he sighed. In such a desolated place, who would be there to save him? Even his luck seemed to fade.
Why, Lady Luck. Why abandon me in such a place? I deserve better, right?
No, you don't.
Huh? Why?
You suck.
Damn it. Even my consciousness is playing tricks on me.
"Prisoner!'
Twisted fate almost jumped from his position. A Noxian soldier stood in front of the bars, holding keys with a sword in his scabbard.
"You, move. Get up."
"What's going to happen to me now?"
"Just shut up and move!'
Not wanting to further agitate the soldier, he leapt up and walked out of the cell as the man opened the gates. In the hallway he saw Jarvan as well, dressed in his orange prisoner clothes.
"You're lucky, Demacian. The Noxian playboys want to have fun with your bodies."
"Can't you come up with something more honorable? Beating me up when I'm weak and unarmed! You're bastards!"
The soldier laughed.
"Honor does not exist in our world, Demacian. Your beliefs in Demacia are outdated and impractical. Here, whoever has power—dominates the world. And since now I am the one with power, you will bow before me. I get to do what I want."
Jarvan wasn't pleased, but he got no choice.
Meanwhile, Twisted fate was still pleased that no one had paid any attention to him at all.
A few more soldiers entered the prison hallway.
"Take them to the playroom. The boys are hungry for blood."
The soldiers smirked as they grabbed Twisted fate and Jarvan's shoulders and ushered them away.
Where are they taking me to this time?
Before they left the prison masks were again forced on their faces, so that they could not see anything when they walked. He found it incredibly frustrated that he was given no chance to even recognize the place—if he didn't know what kind of place he was in, how could he even plan an escape? The previous prison facilities had no such tight measures on their prisoners, thus allowing him to escape for numerous times. Not this one, however.
Can't you just be a little bit more careless? I can't escape this way!
It was like the night before, when he was abducted to Shaco's own torture room. He felt vulnerable—anything could happen to him now, without his knowledge. He could be punched in the head, stabbed in the stomach, or kicked in the nuts.
Nonetheless, he was relatively safe until he felt something hard on his back.
What was that? A wall again? No, I won't go through that torture with Shaco again.
Then his mask was taken off.
His surroundings weren't much better either. He was in a large, spacious room, with nothing but a few soldiers. Four muscular, bare-chested men were there as well, each with huge grins on their faces. Beside them was a wooden table, filled with knives and cleavers of all sorts. Essentially anything that can slice people in half. There was strangely a cardboard box as well.
And of course, there was the iconic bare chested Agent 87, standing in the midst of the brutes. Though the super-soldier stood out in terms of body mass and fearsomeness.
"Tie them there against the wall. They'll soon be yours."
Twisted fate's hands and legs were tied up with ropes, and so were Jarvan's.
"What's your deal, Agent 87? We've been tortured last night, and now you want to do it again?"
"On the contrary, prince. You'll definitely enjoy whatever's going to happen later." The brutes beside Agent 87 laughed.
"Definitely, Jarvan. You have no idea how long we have been waiting for this moment. To taste the flesh of a Demacian of royal blood."
"You're dogs. All of you."
Indeed, Jarvan's statement was quite correct—the men laughed—or barked— like real dogs.
Twisted fate knew something was up. He remembered very well what happened the night before. How could he attempt to kill him at this moment?
"Close the doors, by the way. We must not be interrupted."
The soldiers standing nearby the doors proceeded to shut the door, as Agent 87 turned back to face Twisted Fate and Jarvan.
"I should probably do a bit of an introduction first. These men here are Draven's very own henchmen—those who work in the executioner's arena. They know a lot about execution, and asking them to do the torture stuff will be suitable not only for them, but for you as well," explained Agent 87.
"He's right. We're like brothers to Draven. We slice people like crazy!" They laughed again.
"The tools for this activity are all there on the table, gentlemen," continued Agent 87. "Feel free to get what you want—it's all yours."
"Yes, sure, 87. I'll get what I need. This cleaver looks good!"
The men smirked as they got hold of their weapons. Twisted fate counted—there were six of them, three wielding giant cleavers the size of their heads, two wielding sharp daggers, and one wielding a hammer so heavy he himself struggled to lift.
"Do whatever you want to them, but just one thing: do not take their poor lives."
"That's a must, 87. We can't let them die just for them to escape from us. No, no, we will let them live, but they will endure so much pain that they would wish they weren't born in this world, right brothers?"
They laughed again.
They had no idea that Twisted fate had enough mana to easily slaughter them all—provided that he had cards. Which he didn't at the moment.
If I had cards…they wouldn't even be here to threaten me.
What did Agent 87 have in mind?
He noticed the super soldier glancing around the other Noxians, occasionally staring at him and Jarvan. In his eyes, he could see signs of doubt and uncertainty.
Why? Why doubt? Why uncertainty?
"Let me draw the first blood," said Agent 87, who got hold of his own cleaver as well.
"Sure, bro. But don't hold back. I'd like to see him suffer."
The others cracked up again. Twisted fate was sure these "executioners" were psychopathic as well.
Agent 87 stepped forward from the brutes and stood in front of Twisted fate. He had a nasty smirk on his face, just like the executioners. Twisted fate did not like the face of his.
"This young boy here…hmph…should I start with him of the Demacian prince?"
"Ignore the gypsy! Killing him does not please us in any way. Jarvan, Agent 87. Slice Jarvan first!"
"You bastards!" shouted Jarvan, though powerless to resist.
"Very well. I shall follow the advice of my men, shall we?"
Twisted fate could briefly see Agent 87's hands fumbling in his pocket. Barely—very barely—could he see what he was holding in his hand.
A deck of cards.
Cards?
Twisted fate tried to hide his inner happiness and joy. Finally, there was hope! His one and only weapon was right in front of him, hidden from the other Noxians in the super-soldier's pocket. Turned out that he was an ally of his after all—but it remained to be seen if he had other tricks up his sleeve.
Agent 87 gave a swift wink to the gypsy, unbeknownst to the others. He drew his hand from his pocket and turned to face Jarvan. The prince also had no idea what happened between the two of them.
"You see, Jarvan, you have been the most hated Demacian in Noxus since Jarvan the 1st. Your great-grandfather had once united with the other nations to attack us. Yes, we killed the King, and it was a great blow to Demacia, but Noxus did not suffer less. Our armies were in defeat, "crippled" as General Darius had always said, our city walls toppled, our nation in ruins. We had to rebuild, and for many, many decades did we suffer. Millions of Noxians died because of hunger. Our policy had always been to neglect the weak, to support the strong, but at that time there would be no more Noxians if we neglect the weak. To compound the problem, some kind of disease struck that we had no idea how to cure. Have you heard of the 'Black Death', Jarvan? Yes, that is the name of the disease."
"You're lying, Agent 87," said Jarvan angrily. "You Noxians were never in such bad condition! My father and the history books never mentioned anything called 'the Black Death'. And what's our concern of your nation's survival? Your death will be someone worth to celebrate."
"Ruthless, Jarvan. Yet unknowledgeable. You've been fed lies of the past. You see, Demacia is not always the 'City of Justice' as people often say. Anyway, since you're here…why don't we take some revenge for what happened in the past? After all…"
Agent 87 gave Twisted fate a thumbs-up gesture. The gypsy knew what would happen next.
"—it would be a shame if you got away from our very eyes, right?"
"What are you hinting at, Agent 87?" asked Jarvan, beginning to notice that something was indeed up.
Agent 87 smiled reassuringly.
"Sorry to disappoint my brothers today, unfortunately."
Before the brutes could react Agent 87 tossed his cleaver at the three of them. Twisted fate watched as the muscular, strong men were sliced literally into half horizontally on the chest. The blood and gore were indescribable—the gypsy turned away just to prevent himself from seeing it.
"Now, Twisted fate!"
The gypsy then remembered that he had a part to play in this escape plan.
Better not get distracted by the blood bath.
As Agent 87 defended himself from the other surviving brutes and soldiers with a blade out of nowhere, Twisted fate concentrated and channeled his mana. He could feel the cards in Agent 87's pocket from a distance and was confident that he could easily control them remotely.
The poker cards magically flew out of Agent 87's pocket and returned to Twisted fate, slicing the ropes tied around him and Jarvan.
"I'll get my weapons," said Jarvan as his feet landed on solid ground. "You deal with the men."
"No problem."
The cards in his hand changed into different colours. Twisted fate threw all of them at once at the brutes. The cards, despite seemingly weaker than an actual cleaver, worked just as well. They pierced through the men's necks with ease, cutting their heads off. The cards did not stop there, however, as they swirled around the whole place and basically cold-bloodedly murdered anyone standing in its path.
No Noxian was left standing. Excluding Agent 87, that was.
"Didn't know you actually meant it yesterday. You gave us no warning beforehand," said Twisted fate.
"What is this? Is this a trick?" Jarvan was absolutely confused and skeptical since he did not know Agent 87 was a spy. "And Twisted fate, do you know this Noxian or something?"
"No time to explain," said Agent 87, who sheathed his sword. "We'd better escape now, or else there will be no chance. As I told you yesterday night, Twisted fate, we need to remove the anti-teleport Rune at the top of this building. I have brought the necessary tools for you."
Agent 87 pointed at the cardboard box at the very table where the cleavers were placed.
"Inside the box is everything you need."
Out of curiosity the gypsy went over and opened the box. Inside were two potions, Jarvan's lance, a set of Noxian armor, and a sword which glowed in purple. Of course, there was Twisted fate's clothing which was forcibly taken off by the Noxians beforehand, including his very own hat.
"That's nice! Didn't expect to see my hat again." Without delay, the gypsy placed his hat onto his head like a king does with his crown. Meanwhile, Jarvan wore the Noxian armor himself and reclaimed his lance. Despite not being in the most optimistic situation he smiled upon grasping his lance.
"I feel refreshed. Empowered. I shall fight again. Oh by the way, what will happen if we leave this place? Some guard might step onto this and raise the alarm."
"I've passed strict orders for soldiers not to enter this room," replied Agent 87. "I am sure they wouldn't interfere with our affairs."
"I see."
"Here's what you need to do: this is a map of the entire facility that I have designed myself, over the years being a spy in the headquarters." As he spoke the super-soldier handed a folded piece of paper to Jarvan, who began reading.
"I have marked the room where the Rune is placed. You will get there, with the help of the map," he continued.
Twisted fate wasn't exactly sure about how to get there.
"Wait…how do we get there? Outside this room, there will be guards! We can't just walk past them unless we overpower them one by one…"
"I'm afraid not. The guards outside are way stronger than those in here. Swain has heightened security because the Demon's portal is near completion. But I do know the way to counteract. The potions here are advanced invisibility potions that will assist you on your way to the Rune. These are advanced in a way such that not only are you invisible, you can walk through any physical object without consequences. In other words, you can walk through walls and doors while keeping yourselves and them at original state."
"Sounds cool to me," said the gypsy. "What about that sword glowing in purple?"
"When you get to the Rune, you need a way to disable it such that it does not emit teleport-disrupting waves over the entire vicinity of the headquarters. Runes itself do not emit magical waves, but the Master of Death was able to magically modify the Rune into its upgraded state. We have to reverse the modification so that it does not obstruct teleportations. When you see the Rune, insert the tip of the sword into it and channel mana-I suppose you are capable of manipulating mana magically?"
"Yes, I can."
"This sword uses mana as a resource for its power. The more mana you invest, the more powerful it is. The sword will gradually reverse the magical modification."
"How do I know the process is complete?" asked the gypsy.
"When it's complete the Rune will glow very brightly. Anyway, it will be obvious when the process is complete. You'll see."
"Good. I have enough mana, right?"
"You do. The mana potion yesterday is modified to be 10 times stronger than ordinary doses."
"You got to be kidding me. Where'd you get all these potions from?"
"Brewed by myself with the help of some expert Noxian brewers."
As Twisted fate claimed the potion and stared at it with interest, Agent 87 noticed Jarvan constantly glaring at him, and not in a friendly way.
"You're still holding a grudge against me, aren't you, Prince?"
"Do you actually mean the words you said just now?"
"Yes. Indeed, I mean every word I say."
Jarvan did not expect such an answer. Clearly, he wasn't satisfied with it, either.
"You seem to think you understand the history between Demacia and Noxus. But let me tell you, most people simply do not know what truly happened between Demacia and Noxus centuries ago, in the times of Jarvan the 1st. Either those who had memories of it had long died, or it has been passed down to generations in an entirely different version. The Black Death truly exists and it's from your father."
"You said history itself might be altered such that it's no longer the truth. So how can you be sure, when you're living in the same century as ours?" Jarvan shot back.
Agent 87 glared at Jarvan but failed to give a reply. Twisted fate wondered what happened between the two as suddenly the whole room fell dead silent.
"What happened just now? I wasn't concentrating."
"Good luck to you two," spoke Agent 87. "And remember to bring me the Rune when it is stabilized. It is crucial that I must have my hands on the Rune."
"Why do you need it?" said Jarvan in an accusing tone.
"I have heard of Twisted Fate's powers," said Agent 87, "but I doubt he can teleport five individuals at once."
"You know how to teleport?" Twisted Fate has yet to know anyone who could teleport like him.
"With the help of the Rune, I can."
"Why is it five individuals?" asked Jarvan. "Wait..."
"Do you know why I picked this very moment for you to escape?"
Both Twisted Fate and Jarvan were clueless. Indeed, why this very moment?
"The Noxians reported that your two friends are making trouble, and another person who I have not met. The new guy seems troublesome-he wiped out a large group of Noxian soldiers with ease. We're sending additional troops to assist, and I'm going with them. Not to kill your friends, of course, and I'll try my best to keep them safe. In the meantime, there will be considerably fewer men here in the headquarters, so it will be easier for you to operate."
"That's convenient," commented the gypsy. "Now I see why you're not following us."
"I'd better leave now to avoid suspicion," said Agent 87. "Good luck to you both. Get yourself ready and begin as soon as possible. Twisted fate, you should teleport to me as soon as possible. I wouldn't be too far away."
With that he headed for the doors and left, leaving the two of them alone.
Twisted fate looked at Jarvan, who was in full Noxian armor and battle-ready.
"Let's get started, shall we?"
"Can you tell me what exactly happened back in the cave?"
Vayne managed to ask Lucian the question the second they were away from Ryze. They had returned to the Rune building and were ambushed by Noxian troops, but the Rune mage easily fended them off. While Ryze was busy dealing with the Runes, Vayne towed Lucian along by the hand into a corner.
"In a nutshell: you stared too long at the Runes, you got possessed somehow, you tried to attack me but failed, you fainted, I became possessed as well, got saved by Ryze."
"Tell me more about why exactly did you choose to...punch me in the temple."
"Um...can we not talk about that?"
Vayne narrowed her eyes, though Lucian had no idea since she had her glasses on again.
"I don't take no for an answer."
"Well then. Here's what happened."
Vayne did not say anything as Lucian described vividly the situation that happened roughly an hour ago.
"Geez, I have no idea that the Runes could have such possessiveness. My underestimation cost me. And you."
"So do I. Guess we have to be more careful when around unfamiliar objects. Especially ancient ones."
The two of them locked eyes with each other, speechless, for a whole minute.
"We're looking like idiots this way," said Lucian eventually. "But when we get back home we can do this for hours."
"If we get home."
Lucian widened his eyes.
"Wow. You're so pessimistic. Of course we'll get home." Despite that Lucian wasn't exactly sure they would.
"I do hope we'll return to Demacia, but for now there is no obvious way to escape from this place—"
"Ryze told me it's the Ironspikes. We're high up in the mountains."
"…are you serious, Lucian?"
"Why do you ask? It's logical—it's cold up here, a perfectly normal condition on the top of a mountain. And the portal in Zaun should teleport us to somewhere not too far away—the Ironspikes is one of the closest spots from the College of Techmaturgy."
"I know. It's just that…if we knew that it was in the Ironspike mountains instead of the College, it would have taken us half the travel time to get there, instead of taking the sea route. I remember well on the day we were planning the route, I suggested we bypass the mountains…"
"Nah. The Ironspike mountains is notoriously difficult to climb, not to mention reaching the top. There probably isn't a second portal, so I bet the only way we can reach here reliably is by the portal in the College. Plus you wouldn't have any idea the secret headquarters would be in such an unreachable, remote location."
Vayne still didn't look pleased, though she never smiled in public.
"We can't change the past," comforted Lucian, "but we can change the future. Once we saved Twisted fate and Jarvan, we definitely can work out something."
Suddenly they heard a loud voice outside the building.
"WHOEVER IS INSIDE THE BUILDING, GET OUT NOW. YOU ARE TO SURRENDER AT THIS VERY SECOND, OR ELSE NOXIAN TROOPS WILL FINISH YOU."
"Are those Noxians?" asked Lucian as they ran towards the direction of the sound.
"I told Ryze they will send reinforcements. But he's confident he'll beat them all."
They saw Ryze glancing out of one of the openings in a distance.
"The Noxians have surrounded the building completely. There is no escape for you," explained the Rune mage.
"For us? Not even you, I presume," said Vayne.
"Me? I'll enjoy blasting them out of this world. You, a weakling? Stay here and wait for my orders."
Vayne clenched her fists, but Lucian grabbed them before she could do anything.
"We'll see what he can do. He's the Rune Mage, after all, and never in our lifetime can we beat him."
Reluctantly she nodded. They watched as Ryze summoned a Runic missile between his hands and tossed it at the wall, breaking it apart. The stone bricks gave way to reveal the outside world, where hundreds or thousands of Noxian soldiers were in sight. It was night time, but the shiny lights coming from the lamps of the Noxians were bright enough for Vayne and Lucian to see the soldiers.
Amid them stood the infamous figures—Swain, Katarina, Talon, Darius…those who could easily take on dozens of troops and still win.
"Greetings to all of you, Noxians," boomed Ryze, whose voice echoed all over the place. He created a Runic platform and stood on it, which descended itself and took Ryze from the top of the building to ground level. Since Ryze himself was glowing in blue light, combined with the fact that there was no daylight, he easily became the center of attention like a blue star.
The soldiers raised their swords and bows and pointed at Ryze. The mage simply smirked.
"Go on. Shoot me. I'll show you what true strength is."
Swain made the gesture to stand down. The soldiers obeyed, lowering their weapons in unison. The scene was extraordinary, seeing hundreds or thousands of men lowering their weapons at the same time.
"Two cowardly Demacians are hiding behind your back! We can talk through this if you hand them over to me," offered Jericho.
"And if I don't?" challenged Ryze. "What if I refuse?"
"Tell me, Mage, why do you oppose us? What are your interests? We can grant you anything as a powerful nation."
"Are you Swain?"
"Not Swain. Grand General Swain. Leader of Noxus. The best tactician in the whole of Runeterra. One of the best mages as well—"
"You? One of the best mages?" Ryze was doubtful.
"Yes, I am. Why doubt me?"
"You have a bird."
On Swain's shoulder was Beatrice, the monstrous-looking raven.
"I refuse to believe that a man who looks like a bird, owns a bird, and talks like a bird is magically stronger than a century-old Rune mage who has practiced magic to the peak."
Swain looked furious, his eyes narrowing. The raven shrieked as if it was offended.
"I have heard from your men that you intend to collect Runes to construct a portal that brings together interdimensional entities. Well, let me tell you—using Runes for your own desires will certainly backfire. The Runes are something you don't understand—they are the sole reason for the birth of Runeterra. They contain magic so ancient you will never know how to use it. The magic might even corrupt you, drive your soul out of your mind so that your physical body gets possessed, and you end up no better than being dead. You think you know how to use the Runes, but you will never know the true danger of using these artifacts."
Swain rested his hand on his chin. The whole army was dead silent as the Grand General contemplated of his next action. Even Darius, the most fearsome of them all, dared not make any noise.
"I've never seen Swain up close," said Lucian, still inside the building with Vayne.
"I did once, during a spy mission. Swain did this once—that time someone interrupted him, the poor man was sent to horrendous torture. Never was he heard of again."
"That explains why they all fall silent. Swain is formidable indeed."
As they spoke Swain halted with his thoughts and cast his dirty glance on Ryze.
"You are correct with the fact that Runes are not easy to control. I struggled myself as well when using them. But I have figured out the right way to use it. In fact, it is just whether you have the mentality to prevent yourself from being overtaken."
Vayne noticed that Swain's head was changing. His skin began morphing into black, his head swelling red, and his mouth extending…replaced by a gradually enlarging yellow beak. It was unimaginable, and even Vayne couldn't believe her eyes despite having seen much weirder phenomenon.
The Noxian generals, upon witnessing what would soon happen to Swain, backed away from him panickily and gestured the others to do the same.
"Get away from the Grand General! He's about to turn into a monster!"
Beatrice flew off Swain's shoulder as he continued his transformation. His size was enlarged by at least 10 times to the size of a giant. His face was already unrecognizable, morphed into a bird's face instead of a human one. Giant wings emerged from his back, the wingspan at least four to five meters long. Feathers grew from his skin, and beneath it were ravens the size of Beatrice, flying out in groups and surrounding him as moths do with a lamp.
Ryze just stood there, gazing at the grisly, appalling sight of Swain. Even the Rune mage was taken aback.
"Frankly I've never seen Swain like this before," commented Lucian, "and I have no intention of seeing it again in the future."
Seconds later Swain became a complete Raven on his own, though a lot more horrendous than his ravens. Other than the usual features of a typical raven, he had his hands replaced by two golden bird talons and his legs were covered by dozens of feathers. Hundreds of ravens swirled around him, flying in circles like a tornado.
"Fire the cannons," ordered Swain, pointing his talon (presumably hand, but it nowhere looked that way) at Ryze. His voice was severely altered into a sluggish, inhuman voice. "This man and the Demacians will pay for interfering with my plan."
Jarvan was wondering whether to kill the soldiers in front of him. He was in invisibility, after all.
"Forget about that. Escaping is the key for now," said the gypsy, who was invisible as well. They were in the main hallway, hidden from the sight of a group of men, who were leaning against the wall and doing nothing but staring at the floor.
"I could have easily killed them. They were the ones who dragged me to torture a few hours ago," said the prince.
"You and I are not sure how exactly this invisibility potion works. If the effect ends during combat…then both of us are doomed," warned the gypsy.
"I understand. And I won't do such a risky thing, despite my urges. I know the stakes."
They left the men to their own and continued on their route towards the Rune's location. It was thrilling to walk past the Noxians without being seen and to go past walls with ease.
"That door," pointed Jarvan. "The map shows that way."
The high-security doors were no match for the advanced invisibility. Before the guards knew it there were already two intruders on their way to one of the most important facilities in the whole building. There were many doors to go through, however, and some navigation later (including climbing quite a number of stairs) they arrived at a door labelled "balcony".
"It writes 'balcony', but the map says it's behind this door," said Jarvan.
"Then it must be this door. My senses never failed me," replied the gypsy, quite confidently.
Jarvan gave the gypsy a puzzled look, but regardless he walked through the door. Behind the door was a glass staircase, which he took. At the top of the staircase, however, was a sight he could not have ever imagined.
He was in a giant crystal hemispherical structure. The night sky could be seen clearly through the glass—the stars, the moon…a spectacular view. Only a thin piece of glass separated them from the outside. White spots could be seen outside the glass, very possibly the snow left behind by the blizzard, but their amount was insufficient to obstruct sight. It was a magical feeling—being in a warm environment while watching something below freezing.
Jarvan could not stop himself from awe and gazed at the ceiling.
"This is…amazing!" said Twisted fate as he emerged from the staircase.
"Indeed it is, my friend. A night sky this clear can only be seen in such a high place—"
"No, I'm not talking about the night sky. I'm talking about the purple crystal there."
"Purple crystal? Where?"
The prince had failed to notice a purple glow. The only reason he could see the glass in such a dark sky was due to the purple glow which illuminated the room. As to where the purple glow came from—it was a piece of purple crystal situated in the center of the structure, on a stone altar. It looked like a purple gemstone, except for some reason it was covered in mist.
"Is that a gemstone?" asked Jarvan.
"Well, I have seen many different types of gemstones in my career, even touched some—but to say this is a Rune? I wouldn't know that if I wasn't informed earlier."
"This shiny, sparkling crystal," said Jarvan as he walked closer and examined the artifact. "Dazzling, like those that Taric owned. I wonder why it has mist surrounding it though. It's kind of creepy."
Both of them took some time to stare at the artifact unconsciously.
"Wait, Jarvan, we aren't here to stare at this gemstone!"
"Dammit, you're right! Where's the sword Agent 87 gave us? Oh, it's in my scabbard!"
Jarvan drew the sword and gave it to the gypsy.
"He said we need to stab the sword into the gemstone, and you need to channel mana to reverse its modification. You're the only one with mana, so I'm afraid I can't do much to help."
"You should probably guard the entrance. I cannot allow disruption as I channel."
"No problem. But what do we do after we're done with this?"
"I can teleport without that obstruction from the Rune. I will 'Gate' you out of here, then. As to where I should teleport…perhaps I should find out where Agent 87 is located first."
The Card Master drew his Card of Destiny and closed his eyes. Jarvan stood there, continuing to gaze at the gemstone until Twisted fate reopened his eyes.
"What do you see, Fate?"
"We'd better hurry. Vayne, Lucian and a blue guy I do not recognize are surrounded by the whole Noxian army. Agent 87 is standing amid the frontline."
Jarvan's face turned pale.
"They'll never win. Agent 87 said he'll bring us out, but I don't know how. Still, we don't have much of a choice here. You'd better start now, Fate."
"On it."
Twisted fate walked to the front of the stone altar and raised his sword, ready to insert its tip into the gemstone.
If conditions allow, I will certainly steal you instead of destroying you. You could be worth a fortune, but you leave me no choice.
The gypsy tried hard not to let his thief-like instincts take over. Closing his eyes, he thrust the sword into the artifact.
He had heard that gemstones were hard as diamonds—but somehow the purple-looking sword could still penetrate its crystalline surface and slice into the crystal. Fate then did what he was told—channeling his mana into the sword. He wasn't able to at first, but gradually he remembered the way to channel mana, he himself last used this trick roughly 10 years ago.
He then remembered Agent 87 warned that the sword could consume a ridiculous amount of mana.
Screw that. I've drunk enough mana potions, enough to sustain me for more than a week. Let's see how much you will consume.
He felt energy drained from him. But he had plenty anyway, so he wasn't concerned at all.
Greetings, human.
Huh? Who are you?
I am the living incarnation of the Runes. I am here to promise you of immense power.
Twisted fate found out he couldn't move his body. Only his eyes could move, and he could only see what was happening in his front.
The mist had evolved into a large area of smoke, enclosing Twisted fate and prevented him from seeing anything at all. Amid the smoke the gypsy could see a humanoid face in front of him, looking at him.
Do you want power? I can give lots and lots of power to you.
Why do I need power?
Power can grant you a lot of things. It can give you the strength needed to defeat an entire army, forcing them to bend to your will. You will become ruler of the world, and everything you want will be granted.
Well, that looks like an excellent lifestyle, but I don't necessarily buy that.
Why is that, human? Care to explain?
Being a ruler does not grant pleasure. Knowing that everything is under your control is not life at all.
How is it not? You will have everything!
Yes. But you lose the thrill of challenge. When there is no challenge, life is meaningless. When you have control of everything you basically stay in autopilot mode, doing stuff for the sake of doing stuff. You lose that thrill in life. And without that thrill, I would rather be dead than alive.
…
…
But I'm sure that you would have once wished you had enough power, right? In certain situations.
Such as?
Witnessing your village being slaughtered brutally.
…
Twisted fate wondered how the voice knew about that, but he remembered vividly what happened. His gypsy tribe was living in harmony when he was a kid, for many years, until the day he was 18. His tribe was attacked by a group of witches, and his younger-self watched as his relatives and friends died defending their family. His parents survived, but fled and were never heard of ever since. Though he was quite sure the three of them were the only ones who survived the onslaught.
If only I had enough power.
That's my boy. Long for power. Thirst for power. You will gain it if you continue thinking this way.
Twisted fate could feel his mana not depleting, but instead increasing, as the mana flow returned to him instead.
No. Power does not change anything.
Why? Why do you think like that?
There is something called "balance" in our world. When there is light, there is darkness—when there is white, there is black. When there is too much light, darkness will move in to balance—when there is too much white, blackness will move in to balance. Even with immense power, there will be one day when you will lose all of them—or taken by another person. No one can control everything. This world's fate is not subject to how much power one has. It is all up to Destiny. The world is essentially a product of chance.
Unbeknownst to Twisted fate, a small crack appeared on the surface of the purple crystal.
During this time Jarvan was watching Twisted fate perform his act. He eventually found it boring so he turned to gaze at the night sky instead.
Back in Demacia nowhere could someone see an identical night sky. Either there were too many clouds, or that altitude was a key to watching stars—standing in a higher position implies you will see a better view. Despite being in enemy territory, Jarvan was very pleased with what he had seen, something he couldn't have seen if he stayed in Demacia.
This particular adventure from the Zaun harbour to the monster-filled mountains, then to the College of Techmaturgy, then to the top of the Ironspike mountains…it was something he had yet to experience as a Demacian prince. No prince had gone to such places before, let alone in only less than two weeks. Sure, there were many dangers, but Jarvan was glad he could experience all of this, making him feel like a lucky man yet a true hero.
If he successfully destroyed the Demon's portal, that is.
Suddenly he noticed Twisted fate sweating much more than usual. Larger-than-usual sweat drops descended from his forehead, even dripping on the floor.
What's happening to him? Do I need to do anything?
Jarvan had no idea what to do with this phenomenon. But sweating certainly did not result in death, and this he prayed that he wouldn't die of over-sweating.
But the next moment he heard footsteps from below. Someone was coming up from the glass staircase.
****. Probably someone finally discovered we've escaped.
Jarvan's heart began beating madly as his mind wondered what to do.
I must defend Twisted fate, by all means.
Jarvan drew his lance, readying himself for the potential confrontation ahead. He looked back at Twisted fate.
My friend, you'd better grant us some luck. We're in desperate need of them.
"This is the last place we've searched. Surely he must be here!"
"Jarvan the Fourth will be. I don't care about the gypsy, just get me the prince's head."
A group of men emerged from the glass staircase. All were typical Noxian soldiers dressed in black armor, armed with swords.
Jarvan took in a deep breath.
"You Noxians, how dare you! I shall take my revenge on you by slaughtering you all!"
The prince pointed his lance at them and raised his shield in battle stance. But there was one thing that puzzled him.
He was not acknowledged. At all.
"There! There is the gypsy!" one of the men yelled. "He's stabbing the artifact Swain said it's important! We need to kill him now!"
Jarvan was extremely confused, then realized what actually happened.
I'm still invisible! Right! Why didn't I think of this before?
One of the men prepared to toss his sword at an unaware Twisted fate. It was not difficult to imagine the surprise when the soldier found his chest stabbed by a lance instead. Before he could react or toss the sword he collapsed and fell to the floor, dead.
"No. Not on my watch."
The men were shocked and counter-attacked only when Jarvan was able to kill another soldier. They were easily defeated, however, as Jarvan simply blocked their attacks with his shield and attacked rapidly such that their shields were knocked away, giving Jarvan the chance to pierce their chests with his lance. On the contrary, the men weren't strong enough to knock away Jarvan's shield and fell one by one due to Jarvan's lance.
The prince gazed at the bodies on the floor.
That was pretty easy.
Suddenly he heard another voice.
"I'm coming boys! Wait for me! The prince is mine!"
The prince recognized the voice. No doubt it belonged to—
"Draven in."
He was none other than Draven, the glorious executioner in the infamous guillotine arena in Noxus. Jarvan knew him more as a playboy instead of a real threat to the Demacian military, but he heard rumors that Draven's strength could match those of Darius, and Darius was literally unmatched in terms of physical power.
"Oh, hi there Prince Jarvan!" said Draven, putting up his enthusiastic face. "Draven thinks it's fun to personally cut you to pieces, Demacian."
"And Draven doesn't know he'll get destroyed soon," shot back Jarvan. "Draven cannot match a skilled fighter."
"Is that how you think of yourself, prince? Draven will show you."
Draven drew an axe—the axe half the size of a fully-grown man—and spun it, walking forward towards the Demacian. The prince raised his shield and tried to block Draven's attack, but he could not have imagined the strength of Draven. Each time the axe-end struck the shield, the shield cracked for a bit. It hit like a truck—even strong shields couldn't withstand his strength. Moments later the shield broke into pieces, leaving Jarvan with no defense.
Draven then launched his axe straight at the prince, but Jarvan leapt out of its path. Unfortunately, the axe did hit something else—his lance. His only melee weapon was knocked out of his hand, knocked meters away from him. It would take a few seconds for him to reclaim the lance.
The executioner was quite pleased to see that and approached Jarvan menacingly with a smirk until he turned and saw Twisted fate.
"Wait, isn't that the artifact which is very important?"
It was then that Jarvan realized they were in very, very deep trouble.
"You see, Jarvan, I'd really want to kill you first, but your friend is violating Big Raven's rules. And I'll have to kill him first, for the sake and glory of Noxus. And I'll probably enjoy seeing him explode into pieces of flesh," said Draven. He spun the axe and aimed at the gypsy, ignoring Jarvan.
However, he had good reason to do so. Jarvan's only weapon was gone, leaving him with nothing but his fists. The distance between him and Draven would take him more than a few seconds to close—which would compel Draven to kill him instantly. Since Draven chose not to kill him for some reason, he thought he could do something to compensate.
What could he do?
Only a ranged weapon would suffice, though Jarvan glanced around and saw none.
All of a sudden, his brain came up with an idea. A ridiculous idea, in fact, but attemptable.
Quickly the prince removed his helmet. Before Draven could throw his axe, Jarvan hurled the helmet at Draven, aimed for his head.
The executioner was definitely surprised when he felt his head hitting something hard. Or more like, something hard hit his head.
Draven let go of the axe and it fell harmlessly to the ground. The executioner himself was knocked out cold, and collapsed to the ground as well, just like the fallen Noxians.
Jarvan was breathing very heavily. Had he not done so, Twisted fate would be dead, and no matter whether Jarvan could survive the duel between him and Draven, he'll sure be dead being surrounded by tons of Noxians. Without them, Vayne, Lucian and Agent 87 would surely end up dead as well.
Jarvan's act had saved all five of them. And potentially all of Demacia. And potentially all of Runeterra.
A sense of proudness went over his mind.
Then the prince heard something similar to the shattering of glass.
The purple gemstone broke apart in a split second, dissolving into pieces as it flew in all directions, landing everywhere in small pieces. The mist was completely gone. At the same time, Twisted fate opened his eyes and instantly realized what was going on around him. They were attacked, and somehow his channel was not interrupted. But he knew what was most important.
The anti-teleportation Rune was destroyed.
Author's note:
Hope seems to rekindle as the Rune is destroyed. Who exactly is Agent 87? What is his true motivation? Is he a Noxian? How did he know so much? Despite being human, he actually plays a substantial part in helping the gypsy and the Demacians to foil Swain's grand scheme. (Ryze will assist as well.) But what is his true extent of powers? Most importantly, who is he?
Hint: He is a champion, though not in a way you would imagine.
