Chapter 19 – Insanity in the Smog
Spinning out of control, disoriented and overcome with dizziness, Tyrian felt his life swirl around him in colours of orange, pink and purple. Dizziness and moving rapidly in circles was something he was used to, but not at this level. He wasn't sure how long he had been in this state. Was it a minute, an hour, a day, a week, a year? Tyrian could not tell. All he knew was that he wanted it to end…
Tyrian then fell out of the portal and landed flat on his chest. Now that he had come to a stop and was no longer moving, he let lose the vomit that had built up inside his mouth. For ten seconds straight he threw up until he had created a large puddle of sickly brown on the floor in front of him. 'I am sick…' he muttered. 'Very, very sick.'
Unable to get up off the ground for more than seven minutes, Tyrian lay where he was with his eyes closed.
Eventually he managed to pick himself up and was able to finally take a look at his surroundings. It was nowhere he recognised at all. He was in an alleyway at a dead-end. The ground was made of uneven stone and the walls around him were a murky grey. The sky above him was dark and barely any sunlight made its way through the black clouds. 'Where am I? Where am I?!' he said out loud. 'It doesn't look familiar at all, no it certainly doesn't.'
Tyrian felt uneasy for the first time in absolutely ages; this place gave him the creeps and that was saying a heck of a lot. He was cautious as he limped to the exit of the alleyway. He was slowly recovering from his trip through the portal. He still felt a bit queasy but no longer vulnerable to an ambush.
Voices came from the streets outside. Tyrian ducked behind a set of dustbins. A bunch of kids – four of them – entered the alleyway and made a beeline towards a dumpster below a ladder that was a few metres in front of the bins where Tyrian was hiding.
'They must've gone on top of the roofs again.' said a dark-skinned boy with a white mohawk and a strange rod in his hand. He seemed to be the one leading the group.
'But Ekko, why would they have come this way?' asked the boy immediately behind Ekko.
'Don't you remember Rix, they always go see Mama Elodie perform at Babette's Theatre whenever they get the chance.'
Rix pondered Ekko's answer for a few seconds. 'Oh yeah. I remember now.'
'Wait, Mama Elodie you say?' said another boy. 'As in, that lady who's in charge of Hope House?'
'That's the one.' Ekko confirmed.
'Why would they go and watch her?' the fourth boy commented. 'She's gone and they choose to spend them unsupervised time chasing after the person that usually supervises them?'
'I hear that she's a good singer.' said Ekko.
'I bet they have secretly like her.' Rix sniggered.
'Well she is kinda hot.' said the third boy, called Tark. 'Especially when she dresses up and puts on makeup for the performance.'
'Oh come off of it.' snorted the fourth boy. 'She's only good looking if you're into middle-aged women. There are plenty of girls our age who're hot.'
'And have you got your eye on anyone in particular, Nint?' Rix asked.
Nint stummered. 'Yeah… I guess…'
'Who is it? Tell us.' Tark urged.
'Sigh, K-Kez.'
'Kez! Oh my goodness Nint, Kez! Why didn't you tell us sooner?! We could've hooked you up!'
'I-it doesn't matter. It's not like I'm head-over-heels for her: she just pretty. Besides, she's with Wyn now.'
'Guys, focus.' said Ekko, bringing the conversation to an end. 'Think about your love lives some other time. We've got some rats to catch.'
'Why would they steal from us?' Rix asked. 'We're all part of the Lost Children of Zaun.'
'Probably because they want to buy refreshments if they manage to sneak in again.' Ekko sighed. 'As far as I'm concerned, the Lost Children of Zaun don't steal from each other. We're all in this together. They've broken a pact and I'm mad.'
'Which one of them stole from you?' Nint asked.
'It was Janke. It's always him of course. Now let's go and get them!' Ekko said and began to climb the ladder.
Tyrian's curiosity was growing and his confidence returning. He could no longer remain silent. 'Ahem, hello there boys!' he said with a forced, sophisticated tone and stood up.
Ekko and his gang were startled as Tyrian revealed himself so suddenly. Ekko jumped down from the ladder onto the dumpster and held his rod in a defensive position. 'Who are you?!' he demanded.
The unmistakable grin of Tyrian's madness made its way onto his face. His eyes and mouth widened. 'Me?' he said, pointing to his chest. 'Who I am matters not to you.'
'Then what do you want?' said Rix, raising his fists.
'I only need an answer to a very simple question. You see, young boys, I am a grown man, yet I am embarrassed to admit that have somehow found myself lost with no idea of the whereabouts I may be. So then, what is the name of this place?'
Ekko's gang's looked at each other, wondering if this creepy stranger was just feigning ignorance. 'Umm, Zaun?' said Ekko. 'Is that the answer you're looking for?'
'It depends if you're telling me the truth or not.' Tyrian replied. He strutted his way closer to the boys.
'Back off!' Ekko warned. 'Come too close and you'll regret it.'
'Why, how rude of you.' said Tyrian. 'I am merely exchanging courtesies with you boys, and you're telling me to shoo? I mean no harm at all.'
'How can you possibly not know where you are?' asked Tark. 'There's no other entrance to this alleyway other than the one we just came through. Did you wind up here because you were drunk?'
'Absolutely, positively not!' Tyrian replied with exaggerated outrage. 'I can assure you that I am not lying. My story is one that you're not likely to believe, but you must at least take my word for it that I really do have no idea where I am. Tell me more about "Zaun" then.'
'It's a city, that's really dirty… and that's about it.' said Ekko.
'Hmm, Zaun. The name doesn't ring a bell.'
'Where are you from then? Piltover, Noxus or somewhere else?' asked Nint.
Tyrian stroked his chin and pivoted in a circle, observing the alleyway more closely. The only added detail he noticed was trash on the floor, which for some reason had not made it to the bins. 'I've heard of none of those places either. Are you sure that you're not just making up names?'
'I'm sure of it.' Nint replied.
Tyrian turned around and thought to himself. 'No, it can't be, can it? Did that brat transport me to the new world?!'
He returned his attention to Ekko's gang. 'Thank you very much boys! You have been ever so helpful to me and I wish you the best of luck with your search for those that wronged you so.'
Ekko glared. 'Were you listening to us this whole time?!'
'Maybe I did just a tad, but worry not, for your business is not any of mine. I have no reason to tell anyone else about it.'
Tyrian walked past them. 'Farewell boys!' he saluted before breaking into a scamper and left the alleyway, all the while giggled maniacally.
Ekko and his gangs' skin crawled as they hear his laughter reverberating off the walls.
The streets of Zaun were infested with grime and sludge. It was as though the city itself was a living and breathing mutant, composed of the residue of too much factory work and experiments gone wrong. This was true to a certain extent though. Zaun's industry went by nothing but technology and influences from Piltover, minus the safety checks. No matter where you went in Zaun, it was polluted with carbon dioxide and other gases. Rivers and streams were oversaturated with disposed chemicals and toxic substances. Life expectancy in Zaun was significantly lower than in other states in Runeterra. Falling ill to the smog was as commonplace as weapons in Noxus.
One of the most well-known and truly tragic cases of this happening was the daughter of Corin Reveck, one of the most respected inventors in Piltover. His daughter succumbed to Zaun's toxic grasp as she removed her filtration mask to help a suffocating child she found on a visit to the city. Orianna Reveck's body became terminally poisoned and her father resorted to extreme measures to keep her alive: by replacing all of her body parts with automated replicas and prosthetics as her lungs and flesh deteriorated. By the end of her human life, Orianna was nothing more than a machine of clockwork.
Whilst this is a rather extreme case, it is still testimony to Zaun's horrific environment. The oligarchy of Zaun and its chem-baron rulers cared little for the health and wellbeing of their citizens, just so long as they could line their own pockets with money from the black market and immoral industry practices.
As Tyrian explored Zaun at its street level he noticed the amount of waste scattered all over the place: used plastic bags and wrappers, out-of-date food, failed machinery and metallic components. Green slime grew across it and reeked. Even for Tyrian, this was absolutely disgusting. 'It makes me want to vomit again!' he said out loud next to a tool shop. A few browsers and merchants gave him a funny look.
He pressed on until he found the backstreets. Stalls were set up, selling various goods and commodities. Tyrian however was interested in sustaining himself, so long as he was away from Salem, and turned his attention to the food stalls.
As he approached a merchant selling fruit, he eyed the apples and picked one up from a box in front of the counter to examine it. The specimen was on the verge of rotting. Its red shine was now dark with a hue of brown in it.
'Hey, no touching unless you're buying!' said the merchant angrily.
Tyrian gently put the apple down. 'I'm sorry.' he said. 'It has been too long since I've had anything to eat and I just wanted to inspect your *cough, cough*, lovely fruits.'
All of the apples were no longer ripe; the same was true of all other merchants selling fruit and vegetables, but this was the best you could get in such an inorganic setting.
'If you've got the payment for it, the grub's yours.' replied the merchant.
'How much do each of them cost?
'Four silver coins for each apple, three for oranges and seven for melons.'
Of course, Tyrian was not familiar with the currency at all, nor did he have any money to begin with. He chortled before he spoke again. 'Surely you have enough common-sense to realise that those numbers are highly outrageous for fruit that's so… poorly grown.'
The merchant slammed his fist onto the table. 'How dare you say such a thing about my stock!' he barked. 'I'm a hardworking man and you have the nerve to manhandle my food and then criticise me about its quality! Get out of my sight, now!'
All the other sellers of food stared in their direction, wondering what exchanges were going on between the two of them.
Tyrian smiled. 'Oh dear me, the peasant has sour spots. It would be a shame if someone were to ruin all the "fruits of your labours" so carelessly.' He picked up an apple and took a bit out of it.
The merchant exploded. 'You little rat!' he yelled and vaulted over the table in front of him. Tyrian jumped aside and threw the apple in the merchant's face, causing him to lose his balance and land in the box of apples.
Tyrian erupted in laughter and spat out his mouthful of apple onto the floor. All of the surrounding stalls fell quiet.
The apples were squashed under the merchant's weight, since they had gone soft.
'Hahaha! Ironic! The farmer undoes his own work! I suggest you be more careful next time!'
The merchant wiped the apple off of his face. 'You're gonna pay for this!' he screamed. 'Everyone, get him!'
In an instant, the other salesmen left their posts, brandishing sharp knives and electrical batons. The commotion became dishevelled and they all glared at the insolent man who stood before them. Meanwhile the customers had vanished and Tyrian was overcome with exhilaration. 'Oh, this is getting exciting!' he said, now showing off to his audience.
'You think you can just walk into this market and do whatever you want?!' shouted a salesman of imported fish.
'Yeah! Go back to the Sump where you belong!' yelled a merchant of alcohol.
There were fifteen of them in total, all shouting their disapproval.
'Well, I think we've had enough talk!' said Tyrian. 'Now let's dance!'
He brought out his wrist blades and in an instant went for the nearest salesman. The poor man had never seen someone as fast and volatile as Tyrian.
He pounced onto him and gashed his face. The man cried out in pain, squirming on the floor and clutching the cut through his cheek.
Tyrian turned around to confront the others. His eyes were wide again – the look of unfiltered instability that was synonymous with him. 'Alright, who's next?!'
'Don't just stand there! Rush him down!' said a merchant of cogs and parts for machinery. Although they hesitated at first, they charged at Tyrian, hoping to overwhelm him. They had no idea what they were dealing with…
Tyrian deflected the feeble strikes of the merchants with batons. He managed to disarm two of the merchants and then hit them with their own weapons. Every time their failed attempts at an assault was made, Tyrian became even more pumped with joy.
From the backend of the market, a thirteenth merchant had heard the noise and came to see what was going on. In an instant he noticed Tyrian and his fellow salesmen trying to take him down. Although clearly outnumbered, Tyrian most certainly was in control of this scrimmage.
Hoping to get the element of surprise, he approached Tyrian from behind with a knife.
The sixth sense in Tyrian triggered and he instinctively lashed out from behind with his stinger without even looking. It impaled the thirteenth merchant, straight into his guts. He retracted his stringer and waggled it around.
'He's a vastaya!' the fruit merchant yelled. 'Lynch him!'
The group's aggression now increased tremendously. They were now ready to kill and roared in anger.
'Kill the vastaya, then sell his animal parts for money!'
Their hostility had risen, but so did Tyrian's own insanity. They were no match for his sheer quickness and martial prowess. He knocked down one; threw two over his head into a stall of apparatus; successfully shot bullets from his wrist into the limbs of three, tripped over three more rest with his tail before stinging them.
Finally he was left with two who were standing on either side of him. Both of them were wielding sharp knives.
'Come and get me then!' Tyrian taunted.
With blind fury, they rushed towards him. It was exactly as he anticipated. Tyrian jumped backwards and watched in amusement as they stabbed each other in the shoulders.
As the last two men fell over, he laughed and laughed. 'Ahahah! AHAHAHA! Oh how entertaining irony can be!'
None of them were dead, but Tyrian had left them with cuts and wounds, which were likely to become infected. 'Oh, mere child's play! Is no one here going to offer me a challenge?!'
The merchant of fruit was lying on the floor, clutching his head. He had banged it as he had fallen.
Tyrian stood over him with a gleeful smile. 'You should you treat your customers with more respect next time.' he said smugly.
'Fine…' said the dazed merchant. 'Take it if you want. It's all yours. Just… get away from me…'
'Actually, I think I'll pass.' said Tyrian. 'From the sample I got to try, I was absolutely disgusted with the taste. Listen to your consumers and learn from their feedback. It'll get you much better results and money.'
He kicked the merchant in the head before leaving the market place.
Tyrian was having so much fun that almost forgot about the problematic helpless situation he was in. However, despite being so far away from home and with no idea of how to get back, Tyrian was more than capable of fending for himself.
As he jogged along the path that was signed towards Zaun's upper levels, he noticed that he was covered in blood from everyone he had fought and cut.
Tyrian believed that he had a sense of where he was going, but in reality he did not. It's very difficult to fool yourself into treating something with familiarity when you don't actually know it at all. Tyrian himself had felt unfulfilled without a true purpose: a master's will to uphold. It was Salem that gave him the reason to live his life on the edge of tomorrow.
If there was one thing Tyrian could relate to however, it was the sense craziness that Zaun gave off. Even though he had yet to run into any proper hooligans, Tyrian felt for sure that there could be people just as deranged as he was. It wasn't Tyrian's real objective though. The then and there required him to find a way back to his goddess, but he had no idea where to start. It was better to immerse himself in his new surroundings.
Zaun was a maze of networks, all going to and from different areas in the city. For someone who had never been there before, everything looked the same to him. Despite following the directions to "Upper Zaun", Tyrian wasn't sure of what to expect. He began to feel mildly agitated. 'I must find a way out of here. I must. I must!'
He was following a passageway that went underneath the middle levels of the city. He was essentially inside a tunnel. It was lit by lights which became dimmer as he went along and had two thick pipes running on both sides. He jogged his way through the tunnel for two minutes and found himself slowing down though; the air in his lungs was making him feel exhausted.
Eventually he made it to the end of the tunnel where he found a mouldy wooden door, which was held together only by beams nailed across it horizontally.
Tyrian kicked it open with some force and it flew off of its hinges. Immediately in front of him next to the doorway though, were several tipped up barrels. A hideous smelling, green liquid was on the floor. Tyrian jumped over it and examined the new area he was in. It riddled with metal contraptions; furnaces, steam pipes, gears and other gadgetry, which he had not a single clue as to what they did. He looked upwards and saw that there was no roof, but instead a rocky set of stalactites. He was in some sort of cavern.
To Tyrian's right was a walkway that led down to a shallow yellow river that seemed to lead into the sewers. The left on the other hand had an actual walkway. The stone wall that followed this pathway on the left had even more valves and pipes running across it, whereas the right was made up of mostly machines.
With the exception of the constant hiss of steam from above, it was surprisingly quiet down there. 'This is getting interesting. What do we have here?' Tyrian said out loud.
In the distance, from a direction he could not discern, he heard the sound of metal scratching against metal. It was ear-grating, but this was not all: the sound was also accompanied by a roar. Something was down there with Tyrian. His smiled deviously, thrilled at the anticipation of what he might encounter. Tyrian was craving for more excitement.
Without thinking about the consequences of it, Tyrian picked up a loose iron bar off the floor and swung it against the pipes on the stone wall.
Despite the area being incredibly open, the sound reverberated across the walls and the cavern ceiling.
The noise was reciprocated. First, the horrible sound of metal grinding against metal and another roar, this time much louder, was returned, followed by a howl and the sound of a something sprinting.
Tyrian cracked his knuckles and stretched his stinger before curling it around himself again. He stood with his knees bent and wrist blades ready.
He was expecting something, but did not anticipate where this thing would come from. It was only because of Tyrian's absurd amounts of adrenaline and quick reflexes that saved him as the beast dived onto him from above. He threw himself out of the way as the monster landed on the floor. Tyrian recovered and stood up as quickly as he could.
What stood before him was some sort of wolf-like animal, comparable to the size of a Beowolf. It had dark blue fur, teeth too big to fit in its mouth, metal claws and braces around its forearms, blood-red eyes and an apparatus lodged into its back, which seemed to be providing it with fluids of some sort.
They both stared at each other in the eyes for only a second before the wolf pounced again. Tyrian once again threw himself to the side as the wolf missed him twice. It spat in fury and ran its claws through the ground, ripping away the stone.
'Blood, all over you!' it said with difficulty.
Tyrian looked surprised. 'Oh, you can speak?' he said. 'I wonder who trained you to do that.'
'Blood spilled… Warwick smells blood… die!'
'You'll have to make me die.' said Tyrian energetically. 'Let's go!'
Warwick detonated with lust for blood. It was so powerful that Tyrian was physically knocked back by the roar. But it only disarmed him for a second. Tyrian was ready anything.
He rushed forward with his wrist blades at the ready – so did Warwick. They exchanged blows, all with the horrible sound of blade clashing against blade. Tyrian was quick with his strikes and unpredictable. His fighting style was indomitable against other Huntsmen and Huntresses who had had the misfortune to confront him in combat, but Warwick was nothing like a conventional Huntsmen and certainly not a regular old Grimm. He was immensely stronger, resilient and difficult to land a blow on.
Tyrian deflected all of Warwick's swipes, however he could feel that he was being overwhelmed. He tried to sneak in a hit from the side, but Warwick could easily block it, with how much range he had with his claws.
Realising that the up-close approach wasn't working, Tyrian backed off and fired from his wrist guns. The bullets hit Warwick directly but he was able to completely shrug them off.
'Those do nothing!' Warwick growled and he ran towards Tyrian.
The fight was not going in Tyrian's favour as he had expected it to. He could not let Warwick get on top of him, otherwise he would not be able to get him off.
Warwick set his eyes on Tyrian's face of madness and moved, this time only on two legs, towards him, so that he could use his claws to rip him apart. 'Bleed!'
Tyrian used Warwick's primitive form of attacking against him. He jumped against the wall to propel himself off of it, and landed on Warwick's back. He was about the lash at Warwick's device, but was instantly grabbed by his left paw and thrown to the ground instantly. Tyrian cried out in pain and tried to wrestle his arm free from Warwick's grasp, but couldn't.
Warwick held him down and drooled onto Tyrian's face as he glared at his prey. 'Hungry, for meat!' He opened his mouth and bit down.
The instinct of dodging kicked in at the last second before Tyrian moved his head to the left, saving himself within an inch of his life. Warwick chomped hard, but bit down on nothing other than the filthy air.
With the split second of free time that Tyrian had when Warwick was more vulnerable, he lashed his stinger upwards, jabbing his foe straight into the stomach.
Warwick's body was tough and had withstood so much unbearable torture and needles from the infamous mad chemist of Zaun – Singed – but even he couldn't act unflinchingly towards the incredibly sharp pain and thrust behind the stab. He instinctively took his claws away from Tyrian and put his paws around the wound.
Pressing the advantage with every single moment was crucial for Tyrian to win. He punched upwards, really hard, hitting Warwick in the snout.
The beast reared back, now clutching its nose.
'Perfect!' said Tyrian, jumping to his feet and wiped his face. Warwick was exposed. Tyrian wailed on him with his wrist blades.
Warwick moaned and snarled. He was confused, his vision was blurry and his nose was in a frenzy with his own blood inside of it.
The blades were doing some damage, but not enough to truly subdue him. Warwick was beyond human and could not be taken down by conventional means. He took over twenty one slashes, yet in that time Tyrian had only inflicted mild cuts, and the poison's debilitating effects had already worn off. Warwick flailed his arm forward, pushing Tyrian back.
Tyrian was getting frustrated as he realised that this monster was not going down without some serious punishment. Tyrian was far from being a strategic fighter, but he knew how to use the environment to his advantage. It was the only choice he had, even if this was not his turf.
He began to run along the pathway. 'See you later, doggy!' Tyrian taunted.
'You cannot run!' Warwick growled, who began to chase on all fours. He was fast, exceptionally fast with the apparatus in his back and the pungent smell of blood in his nose. Tyrian didn't know the ins and outs of Zaun, but Warwick did.
Barrels, awkwardly positioned stairs and chemicals on the ground stood in Tyrian's way. He almost lost his balanced and tripped over three times, but he just managed to keep up the pace. There were a few stray objects along the run, and Tyrian tried throwing some of them in the direction he had come from, but Warwick either jumped over them, head-butted it out of the way, or just completely ignored it entirely – this included a handmade explosive in a jar that Tyrian found and tossed back at Warwick; he ran through the explosion as though it were nothing more than a smoke bomb.
Tyrian kept running. Never in his life had he felt so weak. 'Why won't that mutt die?!'
He turned the corner around a set of crates. The air was suddenly much colder. The walls of contraptions had ended and Tyrian found himself next to the edge of a cliff, with a wired fence at the edge of. The open space revealed a cable car system that ran from where a balcony stood, twenty metres in front of him, up to an entirely new area, high above the caverns. It went directly across the gorge. The drop below was like an abyss. There was so much smoke spewing out of it that you could not see where the fall ended.
There was nowhere else to run. Tyrian dashed towards the cable car, jumping up the small set of stairs that led onto the balcony. He scrambled inside and pulled the lever. The engine began to rev up, but it wouldn't begin moving immediately – it needed to warm up first. Warwick appeared from behind the crates – he had reached the cliffs. Tyrian saw that the cable car had a thick iron door. He reached for the handle, slammed it shut and then turned the giant circular lock. It was like being inside a pod.
'No hiding from me!' Warwick spat. The cable car had only just began to take off, but was slow moving and Warwick had more than enough time to catch up to it. He sprinted on his legs and leaped with tremendous power. The cable car shook violently as it absorbed Warwick's body weight.
Tyrian held onto the lever inside to stop himself from falling over.
It was not good enough though. Warwick held his paw firmly around the wire that carried the pod over the gorge and used his other one to punch his way through the roof. Tyrian could see the iron being caved inwards and stood well back from where Warwick was attempting to break in - however the pod itself was very small; there was nowhere to move or reposition himself.
The iron ruptured as Warwick successfully managed to use brute force to make a hole in the cable car. He stuck his nose inside, only to receive a face full of bullets. He retracted his head and growled. 'Give in! Become meat!'
'You're going to have to try a lot harder than that!' said Tyrian wildly, letting his proclivity for danger and hype take control of him again.
Every remark that Tyrian spewed made Warwick even angrier. He turned his attention to another spot on the roof and started to claw his way through it. This time it was even easier to break – it seemed to be a wrought part. Warwick learned not to poke his nose though the hole this time though. He leaned over the back. This was where the only window was. He snarled at Tyrian, upside down, to which Tyrian responded by pulling a funny face.
Enraged, Warwick punched through the glass effortlessly. His claws only just missed Tyrian's face, but the shattered glass didn't. Three shards scratched his cheeks, creating small cuts.
If Warwick managed to get inside the capsule, it was all over: Tyrian had to escape. 'Where can I go, though?!' he asked himself. They hadn't even made it to the upper level yet and there was no way he could jump off and survive the fall. Tyrian was mad, but not suicidal.
Warwick began to try and break open the back panel where the window had been. His raw strength was believable. Not even Hazel could rip iron apart with his bare hands.
He was coming in from the back, so Tyrian had to make his exit from the front. He twisted the lock open and let the door swing outwards. He held on to it with his hands and put his feet against the inner frame of the door to support himself. It kept rocking backwards and forwards because of the frantic movements of both Tyrian and Warwick.
The top of the back panel, just above the window, broke open and the scraps of metal flew outwards. Tyrian only just managed to climb around to the other side of the door to avoid being hit by the fragments of iron as they rocketed past him and plummeted into the pit below. It was his overdose of epinephrine that kept him on the move and alert. He saw Warwick stick his head inside the pod and seized the opportunity.
'Take this!' He lashed out behind him with his stinger to its fullest length. It jabbed Warwick in his face, just missing his right eyeball. Warwick let off a shriek and reflexively jerked away from the stinger, accidentally cutting the skin on his neck on the jagged hole he had made. 'You'll pay for that!' he gasped. Warwick was already ignoring the pain and making his next move. He climbed onto the top of the cable car again and crawled towards Tyrian, who was still holding onto the top of the door. 'You're mine!'
'I don't think so!' said Tyrian confidently. He quickly climbed to the bottom of the door, so that he was dangling precariously over the abyss, hanging onto the bottom with his fingers. If he accidentally let go now, it would be all over. He couldn't give up though, he just had to evade Warwick as long as he could before they made it to the top of the cavern. Now, they were just over halfway there.
He looked underneath the capsule and saw that there were a set of chains attached to it at each end. They were arranged a little bit like monkey ropes, forming arches. If they could support Tyrian's bodyweight, he could hold onto them. He couldn't be sure if they would, but it was worth a try.
Keeping his right hand firmly on the door, he used his left hand to grab the nearest chain. Once he was sure he'd got it, he moved his right hand and placed both of them around the chain. If his hands slipped now, he was a goner.
Warwick hadn't seen where Tyrian had gone, but his nose did all the searching for him. 'Try… hide!' he snarled. Warwick lowered himself to the inside of the pod and looked downwards.
Tyrian gave him a goofy smile. 'Think fast!' he yelled before thrusting his stinger straight into Warwick's left nostril.
Warwick howled in pain and pulled himself upwards. His eyesight became dark and his sense of smell weakened. 'I'll bite you tail off!'
Tyrian sniggered but continued to focus on the chains. His hands were covered in sweat and the chains didn't have the best grip. His upper arm strength was good, but he would have to come up eventually to stop too much lactic acid building up. Even in the most precarious situations like these though, Tyrian couldn't help but smile. He was a thrill seeker and always looked for ways to make his heart beat as much as it possibly could.
The capsule jolted and shook. Tyrian looked upwards to see a point in its underbelly expand. Warwick was ripping his way through the floor.
Fortunately for Tyrian, it was on the left right side of the capsule: the opposite end to where he was.
Warwick's claw burst through the floor. He waved his hand around to see if he could grab anything. When he had not found anything, he pulled his hand back and tried another part of the floor. This time he was directly above his target.
Tyrian moved his arms and himself across until he was hanging from the chain at the back of the capsule. He watched in shock as Warwick's hand broke through the floor again. 'I can't stay here, I have to move.'
He moved his head backwards so that he could look at the back of the cable car. There was only one thing he could use to climb up again: a rusty pole that run along the back-left corner of the cable car. It did not look sturdy at all, but Tyrian was running out of options. Warwick was adapting to his strategies and destroying the vessel piece by piece as it was.
He reached upwards to the pole with his left hand and used his remaining strength to pull himself back up.
Tyrian made it to the top, but as he put his arms on top of the cable car, the pole snapped and Tyrian jumped to ensure that he'd made it safely onto the roof.
Warwick heard where the noise had come from and knew to head to the roof again.
Tyrian waited, ready to fire the bullets from his wrist. There were not many left, so he had to make every shot count.
Warwick emerged from the capsule and was pelted with a load of bullets. Like the last time Tyrian had tried shooting him though, it was completely impotent. Warwick shook off the bullets and climbed onto the roof.
The two of them were face to face. One was filled with delirium, the other was drenched in wrath.
'You're finished, prey!' Warwick bellowed.
Tyrian looked over his shoulder. They were almost there – less than twenty metres to go. With no other possibility of escaping this heart-pumping game of cat-and-mouse alive, Tyrian jumped to the wire that was carrying the cable car.
'No escape up there!' Warwick growled
'Come and get me then!' Tyrian jeered.
Warwick placed his paws around the wire and followed Tyrian up, snapping his teeth. Yet in spite of how well he thought he knew his prey, no one could truthfully say they could outwit someone as unstable and capricious as Tyrian. He thrust his stinger down again. This time, it went straight through Warwick's right eyeball.
Warwick let go of the wire and howled in pain. He landed on his front and entered an even wilder frenzy than he was already in. 'DIE!' He picked himself up, crouched and used as much power in his legs and possible to launch himself upwards.
Tyrian was still climbing, trying to get as high as he could. He saw Warwick rocketing up towards him. He swung his body upwards at the last second, only just escaping Warwick's claws. They missed but his swipe was still strong enough to cut through the wire…
They both caught each other's' eye one last time before Warwick hurtled downwards. The cable capsule hovered in the air for less than a second before plunging into the abyss below. Warwick roared with a mixture of fear and undiluted anger. 'I'll get YOU!'
To which, Tyrian only smiled.
Six seconds passed before the deafening sound of the capsule crashing into the pit below bounced off the cavern walls, succeeded by the howls and squeals of a beast in agony.
Tyrian swung himself over to the balcony, where the cable car was supposed to dock. He had made it, alive and in one piece.
He collapsed from exhaustion and began to laugh. He laughed, and laughed, and laughed. 'Ahahaha! Hehahahaha! Wahahahahaha!' He laughed for three minutes straight before finally getting up and moving towards a wooden door behind him. He pushed it open to find himself at the exit of the cavern.
He could see a gorgeous sunset: it was so bright. Of course, it was accentuated by how long Tyrian had been in the darkness underground, but the sight of it made his eyes water. Regardless though, he was extremely pleased it see it.
Tyrian was now back at street level. Here, the roads and pavements were much cleaner and the air smelled much fresher. 'Oh, how pleasant.' said Tyrian.
He continued walking, ignoring the various people who gave him ugly stares of confusion, until he got to a sign which read: "Now entering Piltover".
'Piltover? That's the place those scruffy boys mentioned.' Tyrian said to himself. He strolled onwards, whistling as he went.
As he came closer to the city's borders, he suddenly heard the sound of sirens blaring in the distance. It was mixed with the sounds of guns blazing and explosives. Tyrian entered a run, keen to find out what was going on.
Then he heard a very distinct sound, which he had only ever heard before in himself: an incredibly loud, hysterical laugh, albeit more high pitched than his was.
Tyrian grinned. More pandemonium: this was exactly what he wanted.
