Katarina's eyes fluttered open. Holy hell. I haven't been fucked that thoroughly in - I don't know if I ever have been.

She stretched and yawned. "Hey, hot stuff. What say you and I go for a cup of -"

She rolled over and was surprised when the hotel bed was empty. The other half of it hadn't even been disturbed. Then she remembered - she'd broken up with Ryland, and Skylan was a universe or two away.

"Oh," she said softly.

"Kat, don't you ever just want to cuddle?" Ryland peered up at her through messy black bangs. She'd gotten actual handcuffs from Cait, and was slowly twirling the key around her finger.

"Cuddle?"

"Yeah. You know." Ryland blushed as she rested her cheek against his dick at looked up at him skeptically. "Hugs. Backrubs. Kisses."

"You mean healer bullshit?"

Just for a moment - there then gone - his face revealed his deep need for affection. There was a chasm there, a trench, a black hole in his heart Katarina knew she couldn't fill.

"Yeah, I guess it is pretty dumb."

"Ryland -"

"Shh. Just fuck me."

Katarina rubbed her tired eyes. "Always knew I was bad for you, kid."

She forced herself to get ready, taking extra time to comb her hair until it was smooth and silky. She touched up her nail polish, moisturized her lips. She was lining her eyes when she thought, How the fuck did I get put in charge of a bunch of leather-smelling dimwits who don't know their hatchets from their horses?

Kat. Gods, his voice. It was like he was right beside her. That's not a very nice way to think about the Freljordians.

She imagined him stroking her hair. He was always touching her, soothing her. Even after she turned his wrist into the bloody equivalent of a Demacian battlefield, he'd reached for her.

She saw him rubbing her feet, kissing her cheek. Always there with the exact food she was craving. He reached out while he was reading and scratched the precise place she itched.

So eager to please. Even when it hurt him.

"Kat. I don't want to hurt people. It's against my training. It's like the opposite of it."

She groaned. "Come on. Top me."

"But I don't want to hurt you." He was wavering.

"Don't you do whatever I say?"

"I don't take orders from a useless bitch like you." She flinched, then felt arousal flood her from the tips of her toes to the crown of her head.

"Holy fuck. You're Noxian. I almost forgot."

"On your knees."

"Oooh. I could get used to -"

She was surprised when he slapped her, and even more surprised when it actually stung. When she was covered with bruises, Ryland paused. There was a tiny drop of blood on his lower lip.

"Is this really what you want?"

She blew her ruby hair out of her eyes. "Hell yes."

"For you, then." He sank his teeth into the skin beneath her jaw. She shivered.

He was there to fulfill her every fantasy. Unfortunately, that fantasy was usually him being his shy, geeky self, so she could hurt him.

He just wanted to be loved.

When Soraka walked in, Katarina was sobbing in great, ugly gasps and clutching her hairbrush. Mascara was smeared across her cheeks in wet black wings.

She hadn't cried this hard since the first time she'd seen Cassiopeia walking arm-in-arm with Talon. And that was before she understood the ways of Noxus - how passion could belong to anyone.

She sniffled. "What is it now? Did bitchboy finally self-destruct? Finally?"

"No," Soraka said softly. "Ryland did."

Katarina's sobs stopped immediately. "Is he -"

"He's quite alive, but last night was - interesting." The healer looked away. Her silver hair was in a long, thick braid. A wooly shawl was drawn over her spring-green dress. "You were one of the last people with him last night. I'm looking for clues as to why he broke."

"He broke?" Katarina flushed. "Again? Was it bad?"

"He summoned all of the dead around here for the last five thousand years." The healer still wouldn't look at her. "So?"

"I broke his wrist."

Soraka closed her eyes, her face unspeakably weary. "After condemning Ezreal for the same thing?"

"Yep." Katarina tried to sound unapologetic. But though she'd taken the hearts and lives of thousands, she couldn't keep the remorse from her voice. "And I broke up with him, so I couldn't abuse him anymore. I really wish bitchboy would do the same."

Soraka was silent for a long time. Kat could hear the hotel bustling around her. It was early, but she had awoken far later than anyone else.

"It still doesn't seem quite right. I - I know he loves you, but - all the dead?"

Katarina's eyes flashed. "I know, right?" Her voice oozed sarcasm. "Now, if it'd been Ezreal - he would've summoned the dead through all of Valoran. Good thing it wasn't."

Soraka stroked her braid, expressionless. "There are days where I believe the greatest evil in this world is envy. It only hurts good things." She paused. "Good day, Kat."

The healer left Kat alone with memories of Ryland's voice and her own salty tears.


Being a twelve-year-old girl was intense.

Erinae's emotions poured through their new mental link. Jayce saw her daydreams of Ryland, mixed with some deeper, shakier affection for himself.

Ah. She's fixating on the gay one because she's still afraid I'm going to leave her.

Erinae looked over her shoulder with a scowl. Thanks, doctor Jayce! I can hear you too, stupid.

"I'm not going to leave you," he said again as they walked to the High Conference Room. He felt Erinae's burst of delight when she caught a fluffy snowflake on the tip of her dainty tongue. It was a bit like a Noxian symphony - there were background sensations, like the low voices of oboes and horns, then bright sparkly bits of happiness, like the trills of a flute.

He saw her sigh. I had no idea this was all you thought about.

"What'd you think I thought about?" He wasn't sure he wanted to know. She shrugged, and a puff of snow fell from her shoulder. The flakes were coming down faster than Jayce had ever seen. They were going to be buried.

"Dude stuff. You know. Food. Gadgets. Bikini models."

He had a brief, unwilling image of Erinae in a gold bikini skipping through the snow and shoved it away.

Um. We're waiting on the sex stuff, Erinae.

"What?" Her eyes flashed indignantly. "For how long?"

"At least until you get -" He saw a few academics glance at him. - your period.

That's stupid. She scowled even more deeply.

Why is that stupid?

She didn't answer, but Jayce saw why. Apparently Riveria was fond of renting Erinae out to his best customers. She'd actually fallen in love with one.

Jayce breathed a tiny sigh of relief when the guy looked nothing like him. The Defender wasn't one of those guys. Nope.

Erinae lying belly to belly with him as a full summer moon shone through the window of his luxurious penthouse. The stubble on his chin tickled her forehead. His rough hands were wrapped around her tiny waist.

"Wish I could keep you."

"Then buy me, dummy." Erinae hated how high pitched her voice was. She wanted to smoke cigarettes to give her that deep, sultry, smoky voice Victoria had. But the first time Riveria caught her with them, he beat her so badly she couldn't work.

Walk? Jayce thought numbly.

No. Work. And girls who didn't work were liabilities. The long word scared Erinae. She had no idea what it meant, but the way Riveria pursed his baggy lips at the end of the word spooked her.

The man - some nondescript Ionian guy - kissed her forehead tenderly. "I'd go to the moon and back for you."

"Alright. So?" She shivered.

"Riveria's asking the sun." He rolled over and went to sleep, and turned her back over the next day.

Jayce put a hand on her shoulder, brushing the snow to the ground. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright. You're wayyyy cooler." She patted the winged statue of Aven at the opening of the High Conference Room for good luck. She was very superstitious. Can I ask you something stupid?

Always.

She stuck her tiny pink tongue out at his romantic tone.

Why don't you believe in gods?

Why do you? He thought immediately. He couldn't hide anything. Neither one of them knew how the blasted link worked.

"Isn't it a cool idea, that there are random dudes watching us?"

"Dudes? No goddesses?"

"Goddesses?" One of her patented 'just how stupid are you' looks. "Why? They wouldn't be able to do anything."

"Why not?" Jayce blinked at Erinae's sudden look of innocence. Fuck. I've really got to stop pushing her so hard. He didn't care if she heard him or not.

"Because they'd just do what the gods wanted them to," she said over her shoulder.

Jayce winced. Touché. I really need to get in touch with a therapist. Maybe some cognitive specialists.

She leaned against his chest, gold eyes wide. "Stop."

"Stop what?"

"Thinking about me. You were just acting. Now you're going all - all Egghead on me."

"I just want to help," he said quietly.

"You want to fix me? Make me different? Am I - you know - broken?" He saw her eyes glow softly.

"No. Just to understand you. To love you even more. It's easier for us Piltovers to love what we understand."

Her lips quivered. Jayce waited.

Then she punched him. "Hurry up. You're slow as fuck."

Despite the spontaneous evolution of a mental link and learning his lover was less than half his age, Jayce was still surprised to see Ryland and Ezreal embracing in the High Conference Room. Ezreal's face was buried against the Healer's collarbone. The flames surrounding them flickered weird colors - ocean blue with red sparks, gold and silver. Green .

Oh, Jayce thought.

He felt a gush of some sweet, sugary emotion he had no name for come from Erinae.

"Aww. They're so cute," she whispered loudly.

Ezreal was on the other side of the room in a flash, golden sparks fluttering to the ground like the snow outside. He regarded Jayce and Erinae with distrustful blue eyes. Those eyes - the expression in them wasn't from Piltover. It hadn't come from anywhere civilized.

Jayce cleared his throat. "Hi, hometown hero."

"Hi." Ezreal's eyes seemed to darken even farther. "Why are you two here?"

"The meeting," Ryland reminded him gently. The Healer turned to Erinae, and Jayce got to see him through Erinae's eyes. He almost blacked out from the feeling's intensity.

So that's what worship feels like. Holy fuck.

"You look nice today." Ryland cocked his head, regarding Erinae calmly.

"Who, me? Psht." Erinae looked away, cheekbones glowing hot pink.

"Mhm. That shade of gold is very becoming on you. One of my favorites."

Jayce felt a moment of envy. Easy. He's not hitting on my girlfriend. She's just a twelve-year-old fangirl to him.

"You can hug me if you want to." Ryland half-smiled. "My powers don't burn. Unlike a certain someone I know."

"Fuck you," Ezreal grumbled.

"Can I really?" Erinae stood on her tiptoes, surveying him cautiously. "Are you sure?"

He nodded, palms widespread. A subconscious signal that he meant no harm. "I'm a Healer. I love hugs."

She approached him hesitantly, then leaned against him and flung her arms around him. She only came up to the middle of his ribcage.

Jayce saw the Healer's eyes widen and belatedly remembered Ryland was an Empath. Beside him, Ezreal's face wrinkled in disgust.

His irritation surged. Alright, pyromaniac. I took it from Cait. I took it from Graves. But I don't want to hear shit from you. You set the prince on fire.

He was startled when a glaring Ezreal shot back, At least I haven't fucked a fucking twelve-year-old. You're an animal.

She wanted to do me, kid. I don't think Jarvan wanted to be burned up. Fucking isn't as bad as killing.

Ryland winced. Erinae gasped. Her eyes immediately welled with tears.

Shit, Jayce thought numbly. She can hear Ezreal. And me. And Ryland.

"I'm sorry for being bad!" Her voice rang through the room with as much conviction as any barbarian war cry. The enormous chandelier shone serenely, oblivious.

The mortification Jayce felt was so deep it seemed to come from somewhere outside himself. He had no idea what to do.

She looked up at Ryland, sobbing. Her tears glittered as they caught his aura's silver light. Jayce saw her fangs lengthen, destroying the civilized impression her pretty clothes created. "I - I - I didn't want him to leave. Please. I'm sorry."

"Erinae. It's alright." Ryland held her tighter.

"No!" She struggled from his grasp. "You have to accept my apology!"

The three of them looked at her quizzically until Jayce realized why she was apologizing. "She thinks you two are actually gods."

Ezreal looked nauseous, but Ryland nodded calmly and placed a large hand on top of Erinae's head. He looked just as mystical and holy as the stained glass windows - the silver-wreathed angel comforting the weeping youngling.

"Look at me, child." Still sobbing, Erinae did. Her breaths slowed when she met his gray-green eyes. "Know this. What you did was conceived in the name of love, and anything arising from love can never be fully wrong."

"But it's still wrong," she whispered.

Wow. She even argues with god. Jayce put his hands over his face. He felt ill. Very ill.

"That's not for you to decide, child." Ryland stroked her hair. "If nothing else, your heart is pure. And nothing will ever change that."

"Really?" Her golden eyes widened and darkened.

Ryland nodded firmly. "Be at peace, Erinae. You've done no evil."

"Thank you." Her voice was barely audible. She climbed into Jayce's lap and hid her face in his gold shirt. The Defender raised his head and looked at Ryland. The Healer's half-smile was melancholy.

Jayce said the first thing he thought. "Don't judge me. I don't believe in you."

"Me judge you?" Ryland laughed. "You're looking at the guy who spent ninety-nine percent of his sex life tied to the bed. I have no room to talk. Not at all."

"That's hardly equivalent," Ezreal muttered.

"Thanks, kid." Jayce glared at him, frustrated by the lack of loyalty. "A lot of thanks I get for teaching you to tie your shoes. You remember? You lived at my place for a long time. I taught you everything you know about techmaturgy."

"The past doesn't excuse the present." Ezreal's eyes narrowed. "It was evil."

Ryland looked over at them. "Is it? Who are you to decide, Ezreal Lightbringer?"

Jayce and Erinae both flinched when Ezreal's aura burned brighter with an audible whoosh. The stained glass windows glittered - the Aurora window flickered to life and began to dance, almost urgently as the red light washed over it.

Ryland sat beside him and began stroking his hair. The flames and scowl slowly subsided, and Ezreal rested his cheek against the cool marble table. The keepers of the temple had scrubbed Ryland's blood from this very spot.

After a few awkward minutes, Jayce sighed. "Well, this is off to a great start."

"Ezreal's been having a hard time lately," Ryland said quietly. "I apologize in advance."

"Why?" Erinae's eyes were dry now, and curious. "You two having relationship problems?"

Ezreal groaned without moving. Ryland's grin became rueful. "I guess you could say that."

"We're not dating."

"Well, duh." Erinae blew a strand of hair out of her face. "But you two are obviously -"

Jayce saw Ezreal's fists clench and coughed loudly. "Hey, was that the door? Let's go check it out."

He dragged a protesting Erinae back to the foyer.

Ezreal looked up at Ryland. "See what I mean?"

"She uses us to explore her own sexuality because she's only ever seen women abused." Ryland lifted one shoulder in a shrug and moved his hand to the back of Ezreal's neck. "I'm cool with it. Don't worry - she thinks I'm the bottom."

The Destroyer was silent. "How do you deal with everything? What the fuck do they teach you in healer school?"

"Oh, you know. This and that." He smiled. Eventually, Ezreal smiled back, then looked away.

"I never thought Jayce would do something like that. I looked up to him. He was sort of like my brother - my actual brother."

"He thinks the same of you. The wilderness brings things out in people."

Ezreal closed his eyes, trying to fight the whispers. The soothing rhythm of Ryland's hand was helping, even if it was embarrassing. "When's the world going to be normal again?"

When was it ever? "Soon."

"What are we going to do about Quinn?" Ez asked even more softly.

"Not sure. Maybe we can save her."

"We can't." Ezreal's aura whirled with ruby sparks. Multiple shades of red - fresh blood and dried, wine and smoky campfires.

Ryland fought his panic. "We're definitely going to see Soraka after this. For sure."

"If you can't do anything, what makes you think she can? You're the strongest healer in Valoran."

Ryland luckily didn't have to answer. Quinn, Graves and an Aitah he didn't recognize came through the door, shaking snow off their boots and hair.

Quinn's breathless pleasure at seeing Ryland set Ezreal's teeth on edge. She crossed to him, dark blue dress swirling, and embraced him, covering his face with kisses. Ryland returned them without moving his hand from Ezreal's neck.

Erinae, emboldened by Quinn, joined her, curling up on Ryland's lap.

Malcolm Graves, clad in all black, surveyed Ryland dispassionately. There were a few snowflakes in his beard. "You have to do this shit all the time, Healer?"

Ryland looked down. His left hand was on Ezreal's neck, his right on Quinn's shoulder. Erinae had taken up residence in the crook of his arm.

He blushed. "Yes."

"Alrighty then. We all here?"

"I think so." Quinn rested her cold nose on Ryland's cheek. He heard the faint roar of dark machinery. Preparing to glut their inhuman appetite on her blood.

I want to take time to mourn her, but oh, gods. I've got to keep Ezreal from Storming, keep Jayce from freaking, not think of Quinn's impending death, and act as god to Erinae. Ryland swallowed hard. I can do this. I hope.

"Then let's get this shit over with. I'm tired of freezing m'feet off." Malcolm took a seat next to Jayce. The Defender's face was still flushed.

The Aitah bowed from her waist. Ezreal recognized her - she was the tall, shapely woman who'd suggested Erinae join the scouting party. Her rose-hued eyes were framed by delicate strawberry-blonde hair.

"Greetings. I am Ravin Grace, High Shaman of the Avarosan. The city council has entrusted me with these, which I give to you, with my blessing." She offered a pack of papers and a small black box to Ezreal. When he didn't move, Ryland pulled the gifts closer to him, then put his hands back on Ez and Quinn.

"You have our gratitude. Ta - aikah."

Ravin hesitated. "Are you sure you do not wish me to stay?"

"We should be fine," Ryland said, flashing his sunniest smile. He felt Pulsefire II thrumming through Ezreal's body. He saw Quinn's blood gushing from hers. Red light, black snow.

The Shaman sniffed haughtily. "I'd prefer to hear it from Aven. My denomination of the Avarosan does not believe you're a god."

Ryland's eyebrows rose politely. "Well, then. Ezreal?"

"He is a god, Shaman. You'd do well to start praying to him." Ezreal's eyes were dark and dull, sapphires lying in a muddy pool. "You are dismissed. Ta - aikah."

"Ta - aikah tante," the shaman murmured, looking lightly flustered. She slipped through the door. It almost caught her long white fur cape.

"Did you have to be such a dick?" Jayce blurted.

Ezreal's face darkened. "I know what I'm doing."

"Yeah, but - "

"Hush. Both y'all. Godboy and Egghead." Graves frowned as he examined the black metal box. "Been awake for barely two hours and already got to deal with some magic mumbo jumbo bullshit." He looked at Quinn and Erinae. "M'apologies if my language gets outta hand. Been a while since I travelled with a missus."

"That's really the least of my worries," Quinn said with a little laugh and quick glance at Ezreal. She was tugging anxiously and continuously on her hair.

Jayce took the box in his hands. He was desperate to redeem himself. "It's a tape player. An official one. The town probably recorded radio broadcasts on it."

"Meaning what now?" Graves sipped his thermos. He'd taken a detour before the meeting to get fresh brew.

"You can hear what people said in the past." Ezreal leaned forward intently. There was his old Piltover curiosity. For some reason, it didn't comfort Ryland. Not at all. "Is it empty?"

Jayce's eyes flicked to Ezreal. "Nope. There's a tape in here."

"Play it."

"Yes, master," Jayce muttered.

The six of them lapsed into profound silence as the tape began to hiss and pop. The machine looked out of place among the ancient glass and stone.

Ryland studied Ezreal. His aura was too bright again - Ryland had to siphon more of the energy. He couldn't worry about the power killing him. If he left Ezreal with it, they would both surely die.

Portrait of the Destroyer. Ezreal's long, blonde eyelashes framing his blue eyes shone in the golden light. His pale pink scars were a darker rose than usual. They occasionally winked a cheerful aquamarine - out of place among the furnace of gold and red. The azure Voxstone glittered against his black shirt like the eye of some ancient sky god. And who knew? Maybe it was, or a tear fallen from one.

Come, sun child. Burn.

Ryland rubbed his temples. Shouldn't I be looking at Quinn? She's the one going to die soon.

The one? The Skelgarn laughed over the chorus of hissing whispers. Oh, Healer. Son of the Moon. You have no idea.

Ryland shivered. Ezreal turned his dark gaze to him. Beneath the whirling, burning blood and gold, his face was still innocent and afraid. Perhaps that was the most terrifying thing of all.

Ryland, are we going to die?

I still can't see it. You're still a key. Something between the universes. Or outside them.

Ezreal nodded as the first crackly voice began to speak.

"This is Zig Taur from Ionia, stationed up north. I'm calling to report an incident on the outskirts of our, uh, research base. According to three or four eyewitness reports, a black mechanical lion - no, I know it sounds stupid." Zig Taur laughed shakily with a co-worker for a moment. "A black mechanical lion tore Tomsa Scottin to pieces. Like, pieces. Shreds. And no, we've never seen an animal like that. Nothing like that up north. Not all black and metal."

The silence at the end of the account spun out for a few moments before it switched to the next one. The fear in this voice made everyone sit up straighter.

"This is Katherine Carna from - from - Piltover." Her teeth chattered. "Oh, gods. Oh, gods. It's huge. A black - it's all black - a dog. A wolf, I think. Oh gods there's nowhere I can g - no! N -"

Her account was cut off by a blood-strangled cry. Then the next account.

"This is - or was - Zartek Claren of Zaun. Ha. I suppose one must meet the end of their life in any way they can. Well, at least I was prepared. My months of meditation in the north have given me peace. I stand now looking at a black metal cougar. I know not from whence it came. But it is here, to end my life, I supp-"

Silence. Ezreal's heart began to beat faster. Quinn's fingers were clenched over her mouth. Erinae was whimpering quietly.

"This is Tarn. I hail from Kaladown. The other professors have been slaughtered. I saw it. A wave of shadows. Metal shadows. They leave footprints. Paw prints. Dog and cat. They left me alive. I know not - wait. Wait." Silence. "Oh. Oh gods. Oh gods." A rising shriek that seemed to last forever and ever.

Ezreal's fingers were grasping the table so hard they were turning white. He knew these people. They'd come to listen to his lectures.

" - Taryane Carter. I'm from Demacia. Starlight Division. I retired two years ago to come up north. I wanted to explore, live out my days in the open air, the mountains, the stars." He laughed. The quiet insanity running through the sound chilled Ezreal's heart. "I'm saying this because I know it's all over. They're here. There are around fifty of them, and one of them could take me out. Please - if you're getting this - make sure this gets to my family. Tell them I love them. Father, mother. Lily, be a good girl. I'll see you on the other side." A clank as the radio headpiece was set down. Quieter now, they heard Taryane shout, "Come to me, you metal bastards! I'll take you down with me! May you choke on the blood of Demacia!"

"This is Carla Wright." Ryland became very still. My professor from Brightbridge that introduced me to Ezreal's books. Oh. "I'm going to make it out, but no one else is." Ryland breathed a sigh of relief, then gasped when the mechanical whirring started up. It rose to a hellish cry - saws grinding through bone. Underpinning this was Carla Wright's hurried footfalls, crunching through the snow. "I'm still going to make it! I'm here!" The radio was pushed away from her mouth. "Run! Run! They're coming!"

Click. Pause.

"If you listen to them, you can hear them talk," someone whispered into the microphone. "Listen. Listen really hard."

The six of them leaned in intently. And Ryland heard it first. A soft, clicking, mocking voice. The voice of the machines and of the north.

"Come sun child. Come destroyer. Come Son of the Sun. Come to us. Come to us."

Ezreal covered his ears, his eyes shut tight with pain. Red unfurled in his aura like the flags of Noxus, joined shortly by the glittering banner-blue of Demacia. Both types of Pulsefire. "No!"

"Come to us. Burn. Burn all of it."

His aura kissed the chandelier. The candle flames merged with his fire. Quinn, Erinae and Jayce had all staggered backwards and were pressed to the stained glass windows, shielding their eyes.

Graves sipped his coffee as Ryland pulled Ezreal closer to him. The Healer hissed in pain. Ezreal wasn't burning. Not yet. But hugging him was like touching a piece of metal that had been lying in the sun for three days.

"Burn it. All of it. Destroy. Come, Destroyer. Come to us. Come north. North."

The tape ended with a tiny click.

Ryland held Ezreal's glowing face between his palms. "Ezreal, listen to me."

His teeth were chattering, even though the air around the two of them was thick, humid with heat. "I don't want to be the Destroyer, Ryland."

"I know, and in order for that not to happen, you have to remain calm."

"I don't want to hurt people." His eyes were wide and scared.

"I know. You're a good person."

Graves watched them expressionlessly. "He gonna be like this the whole trip?"

Ryland's glance was almost irritated. "Probably."

"Nice." Graves sighed. "Ez, you know it don't matter what they say, right? Guarantee you could blow them sky high in a heartbeat."

Ezreal's eyes almost made Graves flinch. Almost. The irises were swimming with gold, blue and red. The colors chased one another. It somehow reminded the Outlaw of watching koi fish swim in a pond. Melena had always wanted a koi pond.

"You - you think so?"

"Think so? Ha. I know so. So does your little buddy here." Malcolm pointed at Ryland with his pinky. "Don't let no fuckin' robots tell you what to do."

The flames dimmed slightly. The extent to which the boy was unstable was awe-inspiring, in the same way a summer thunderstorm was. Or a blizzard, like the one happening outside. The Tides of Spring had gone out, but the Pulsefire had other ideas about the weather.

"Yes, sir." Ezreal bowed his head. Ryland breathed a shaky sigh of relief and mouthed thank you to Graves, who nodded.

"Ain't that right, Jayce?"

Jayce's mouth was hanging slackly. "Um. Wait. Wait a minute."

His eyes widened in horror. Erinae and Quinn looked at each other, then took a step back from him, too.

"Is Viktor still at the League?" the Defender asked softly. "Did anyone think to ask?"

"I - no." Ezreal blushed. His eyes, his aura - normal, now, save for the errant blue or red spark. "I'm stupid. I'm sorry for not checking."

"It's - it's alright." Jayce looked deeply disturbed. The soft-spoken boy was virtually unrecognizable - entirely different from the earlier conflagration. "But I was thinking. Do you guys really think Lissandra knows how to build a mechanical army? I thought she'd be more of a troll commander."

"So you're thinking Viktor?" Quinn brushed her hair from her eyes. It was slightly damp with sweat. She, too, was struggling to act normal. "Why's that?"

"I've fought him before. It sounds like something he'd do. The Glorious Evolution."

"More techy shit." Graves sighed again and looked to Ezreal. "Thank the gods we got Piltovers on our side. I'd already be lost."

Jayce saw the boy's shy answering smile and felt a wave of dizziness assail him. Aloud he said, "Viktor wants to replace everyone with machines because he thinks emotions are weakness."

"He'd hate Ryland, then," Erinae murmured.

"He hates everyone. Especially me." Jayce kneaded his temples. "I think the stakes just got a lot higher."

"Higher than spiritual corruption?" Ryland looked down, face carefully neutral. If he was afraid, he hid it entirely. "So it's a two-fold assault. Body and soul."

"What do you mean?" Jayce scratched his head. His mind was running through all the memories he had of raiding Viktor's laboratory. Hadn't he seen them - the blueprints for the animals? Or was he just imagining things?

"Ryland and I were originally called up here to fight the Skelgarn. The Land-Seizer. But lately things have gotten - weird." Ezreal averted his gaze. "My powers seem to have become slightly unstable, and Ryland's suffered a few mental breakdowns."

Jayce huffed. Slightly? Kid, I've got some bad news for you. There was nothing slightly about that.

Graves set his thermos down and eyed them earnestly. "You two sure you can handle this? Be honest, now. I don't like to put youngins in danger."

Ezreal looked wistfully at the Aurora window. "Even if we aren't, are you sure you could face them by yourselves?"

"No." Quinn smoothed her dress. Her hands were still shaking slightly. "I don't know what we're supposed to do."

"Well, listen for a minute. We're just the survey force. We get in, we get out, we don't fight. Right, fellas? And ladies?" Graves shifted his eyes from person to person until they nodded. "Right. So we come back with that info, gather up the barbs, go to fight them. Ain't our job to fight them ourselves."

"It - I hate to be negative but -" Jayce swallowed hard. "It doesn't sound like we have much of a chance."

Graves spared him a glance. "No offense, Egghead, but one or two profs against a metal lion don't stand a chance. Bit different with an army."

"Hopefully," Ezreal muttered. "So what's the plan?"

"Well, we already fucked up once." Graves popped his back. "Everyone and their mother knows when we're leavin'. And the question is never if there's spies. It's how much they know."

"So we should change our departure date. To what?" The Healer was still looking at Ezreal. His soothing auras were dashed as soon as they touched Ezreal's flames, like waves against a cliff. Still, he kept trying.

Graves took a long, deep breath. "How y'all feel about tomorrow mornin'? Can you be ready?"

"Tomorrow? That's - that's so soon." Quinn bit her lip.

It doesn't matter, Ryland thought with sudden bitterness. You're dead in four days regardless. He saw Erinae lift her head curiously. She wasn't quite strong enough to hear him. Thankfully.

"Yar. But based on what we just heard, I don't think we should wait another minute. Sooner we get there, sooner we come back. Sooner we come back, sooner we fix this godsdamned mess and go home."

Ryland nodded. "What else do we need?"

"A drop-dead date." Graves' eyes glittered. "If we don't make it back and they ain't heard from us, tell the barbarians to head out five days after tomorrow. We gotta move. I'll get a hold of maps and such. Jayce and Quinn get supplies. Food, water, jackets, blankets."

"What about Ryland and Ezreal?" Erinae tugged lightly at the Outlaw's hands.

"I think the two of them need to go sit someplace quiet for a little while and rest."

Malcolm surveyed them. Ezreal was holding Ryland's hand over his heart. Dunno how I feel sorry for them when they're so godsdamned strange. Ah well. Guess it's how I'd feel watchin' a moth fly into a lantern. Poor things can't help it.

"You'll be fine for tomorrow, right?"

"As fine as I can be." Ezreal nodded slowly.

Ryland nodded, too. "I won't sleep tonight. Wasn't going to anyways."

A brief picture of the springtide meadow, empty. The starry night hummed with the calls of crickets, frogs and whippoorwills. A meadow waiting on Ryland and Aven, neither of whom would visit.

"Aight. We good now?" Graves sought the Defender. "Jayce?"

"Yeah." He sighed. "I'll be fine."

"Let's go get ready. I'm ready to go home." Graves got to his feet, grimacing as his knees popped. "And don't tell no one but 'Raka that we're leavin'. Got it?"

They all nodded.

As they shuffled out the door, he heard her speak. You think this is your last rodeo, Malcolm?

The voice in his ear was Melena's. He still remembered what she sounded like, even after all these years.

With this bunch? Might be. Ain't worried about it.

Why's that? She murmured.

Been missin' you, love. I've seen the ninth and tenth wonders of the world - human thunderstorms - and I don't give a damn 'cause you aren't by my side.

We'll meet again.

I know. He took another swallow of his black coffee. I know.