The room was simplistic. Three chairs surrounded a table. A map of Runeterra sat upon the table. Three doors, three churning violet portals, sat along the walls. One of them whirred and ejected its passenger. His usually pristine cloak had been tattered, and the hood was slightly ripped. It was the closest Malzahar had come to showing his face in over 10 years. At his side was his faithful companion, Kog'Maw, who was excitedly chewing on a large flank of meat ripped from some unfortunate forest creature.
"They are late." Malzahar muttered. But this did not bother him. Malzahar was never alone. In his mind, he could clearly hear the voice of the Void, speaking in a serene tone.
But they are coming.
"I know...but, my lady...how much longer must we cooperate with them? Clinging to corpses and playing along with the Grand General's ambitions is...tiresome."
The General is wise. The Plaguemaster is brutal. You need not sully your hands or cloud your mind while they do it for you. Be at peace, my son. We shall end this world soon enough...and them with it.
A look of joy crossed Malzahar's face. Reaching down to call Kog'Maw to his side, he whispered into the air. "For you, my lady. You are the Void. Your reach unending. Your wisdom unlimited. Your power unmatched."
A few seconds later, another portal began to glow. From its depths stepped Mordekaiser, his heavy metal boots making clanging sounds as he got his footing in the room. Sitting at the chair across from Malzahar, he nodded his head in acknowledgement.
"Prophet. It is...interesting to see you survived your skirmish at Zaun. It seems a battalion of rats and a few human fools is enough to send you into retreat."
Rage welled up inside of Malzahar. He prepared a retort, when he heard the voice again.
He means to rile you. To shake your belief in my power. Do not let him.
The prophet of the Void simply looked away. Mordekaiser gave a half-hearted chuckle, and the final portal was activated. From it stepped Jericho Swain, Beatrice perched on his shoulder. Taking the remaining seat, he looked at his allies and frowned. "Am I missing something, my friends?"
Mordekaiser scoffed. "Do not presume to speak with me as a "friend", Swain. Your plans have wrought nothing for us as of late. Look!" He slammed a metallic fist on the map, scaring Beatrice into a squawk. "The Freljord was to be my land of death, and the accursed Queen has reclaimed it! Our assault on the city of Zaun was thwarted! Piltover has been wrenched from our grasp! And our forces in Ionia have been dismantled by the Kinkou and that damned pirate!"
"That last bit is news to me." Swain muttered, glancing upwards and stroking his pet raven. "Though I suppose news travels fast in the land of the dead. It matters not, however."
"It matters not?" This time Malzahar was livid, staring at the Grand General with glowing eyes. "Our territories taken, our forces dismantled, and you claim it matters not?"
Swain grinned. "You do not win a game of chess with only pawns, Malzahar. You may recall Kalamanda...truly I once regarded it as land to be ruled, but when I saw the chance to kill the Demacian royal pup...well, I made sacrifices. But I digress… our fleet in the Shadow Isles...is it complete?"
"Of course." Mordekaiser replied. "Each ship is stocked from stem to stern with my undead minions. When they reach the mainland, it will be our greatest victory yet. Death will be the order of the day."
Ensure he has the loyalty of the others, Malzahar. You should not trust that specter.
"And what of the other Shadow Islanders, Mordekaiser?" hissed Malzahar, his questions compelled by the voices of the Void. "What of the Deathsinger? Does he not command the loyalties of your people?"
Swain arched an eyebrow. "Yes, Mordekaiser. Tell us of what is happening on the Isles."
"The living have no business on our lands." muttered the armored undead, turning to face both of his compatriots. "You get your souls, you get our armies, and that is all that matters." He gave a low, gravelly cackle. "As for Karthus, the whelp is as deluded as ever. Still believes he is delivering these dead to their new lives. He knows nothing of our operations to use those lost souls for a more...practical purpose."
"And what of Thresh, or Yorick?" inquired Malzahar.
"Thresh simply knows that if he continues to deliver souls to us, he will be putting them in a most exquisite pain. That is enough to satisfy him. As for the Gravedigger, he is of no importance. The Moris were a powerful family once, but their scion is a fool."
Swain leaned back in his chair, causing Beatrice to emit a soft coo at her master. He lazily pet the raven's beak as he began speaking. "It sounds like things are in order. As for Noxus, the people have recognized my strength. The Black Rose follows me now...a shame LeBlanc had to be sacrificed to fulfill our ambitions." He sighed. "An intelligent woman...would have made for an excellent Grand General herself, really."
You can trust him, Malzahar. The General tells many lies, but this is the truth.
"And what of the DuCouteaus and their manservant?" Mordekaiser interrupted. "My scouts whisper to me that they have joined with our opposition...I thought two of them dead, and one under your thumb, Swain? Or did one of your infallible plots meet its end...prematurely?"
Beatrice gave an angry glare with her strange, red eyes. The Grand General leaned forward again, reaching over to calm his pet. Malzahar heard the whispers of the Void again, and they seemed to agree with the raven.
The Plaguemaster is a threat. He will not make it easy to take control.
"As I was saying…" Swain mumbled, shooting the Master of Metal a dirty look, "Katarina and Talon are crafty. I will admit, I did not expect they would escape. But they are but two birds who have strayed from the nest." He smiled wickedly under the wrappings. "And neither have their wings. They will crash soon enough. As for Cassiopeia, her betrayal is of little consequence. She fled the city, but left the riches and weapons of House DuCouteau behind. She has little but the skin on her back...which I would rather like to make into a pair of boots."
A rare genuine laugh came from Mordekaiser. He had a rather dark sense of humor. "Very well. My plan is this. We shall sail south, to Bilgewater as planned, and dismantle the city, board by rotten board."
Swain straightened in his chair. "And I shall rally our troops and increase production of the Soulforged. Noxus will be prepared to help you flank them, Mordekaiser. And what of you, Malzahar?"
You have done well, my son, my prophet. Return to my place of power, and continue the rituals. I will be with you soon.
Malzahar stood and floated from his seat. The sleeping Kog'maw woke with a start and began to run in circles around his master's legs.
"I have business at the League of Legends."
As he exited the portal, Malzahar found himself in the seats high above Summoner's Rift, where he had prepared his portal. As he gazed down at the former Field of Justice, he felt a smile creep across his face yet again. In one of the fountains was a small group of champions. Even after all these weeks, the fools continued to think they could fight.
Malzahar was no fool. When he captured the Institute, he did not simply intend to waste the many champions that dwelled within. In time, they would learn the strength of the Void, and come to serve him. In the meantime, they would fight unceasingly against the hordes of summoned beasts he had let loose in the Rift. They would die repeatedly, forcibly reconstructed by the Nexus...not a pleasant process. And eventually, tired, weakened, and utterly broken, they would surrender their lives to the Void.
Joy swelled in his heart as the Prophet watched the Gem Knight, Taric, crouching over Kayle, healing her wounds, only for them both to be ambushed by hordes of lurking wolves. The angel screamed at Taric to flee, which he did, reluctantly, and continued screaming, now in pain as the beasts tore into her armor.
Such strife was nonexistent in the Void. They would learn soon, as he had. The sweet voice filled his head again, as it once had in the dunes of Shurima.
I am proud of you. Rest assured, we will be victorious. Soon, all will belong to the Void.
All will belong to me.
AN: None of the Act 3 chapters are finished yet, but I figured it would be nice to add a little teaser update here. I'll try and have these come out a bit faster than the glacial pace of Act 2, but no promises, sorry.