Armageddon had befallen Zuretta. It bore a thousand mouths and a thousand more teeth.

Bandits, mercenaries and countless former enemies had united against a common threat - barricading the gates and pushing back the endless tide of Voidborn. But the creatures were unrelenting in their assault, leaping onto the walls and clinging on for dear life even as they were pelted with spears and arrows. Ezreal blinked among them, doing his best to support the defense with powerful energy attacks from his gauntlet.

"Trueshot Barrage!"

The arcing wave vaporizes the line of Callers, but more appear to replace the fallen.

Ignoring how wasteful he was being with his limited energy, Ezreal fires another: not bothering to shout out the name. A few acidic explosions in the midst of the river indicated that Kog'Maw was putting in some work, but neither of them could defeat all of the Voidborn. Ezreal narrowly avoids getting his leg bitten off as a Xer'Sai drone shot up from directly beneath him, the blind beast scrambling back upright in an oddly disoriented fashion. With a quick Essence Flux, its exoskeleton is shattered: a second projectile searing its insides.

Why didn't they just burrow under?

His question is answered when the sand erupts with activity, golden weapons piercing the hides of the Xer'Sai with ease. Ezreal is left awestruck as a fully equipped war chariot bursts from the desert, golden wheels running through a dozen Callers.

Spears, shields and swords cut down the attackers in droves. The subterranean soldiers fought with no regard for their own well being, swinging wildly to pierce the exoskeletons of their alien opponents. It was something out of a myth - but in his area of work, the archeologist found that myths in Shurima were more history than fiction.

"What the-"

There was a woman, glowing with the brilliance of the desert Sun. Her Old Shuriman mantras are a soft breeze compared to the hurricane that was the Voidborn army, but that single breeze was single-handedly turning the tide of the battle. One desperate Voidling launches at her, but his Mystic Shot causes it to explode in the air.

"Hey, you're from the Palace aren't you?"

"Indeed."

"Oh, I knew I remembered you from -" Ezreal pauses to zap a Crawler. "somewhere. We should catch up sometime."

"Indeed, we have much to talk about." She said cryptically, before waving her staff forward. "Especially about that powerful gauntlet of yours."

Before Ezreal can even ask what that means, the mage dashes forward: spinning her staff to push aside their enemies with a wave of sand. The stranger hopped onto a moving chariot with ease, disappearing into the battle with furious gold and a cloud of sand.

"Ok. That was weird."

"REAK!"

He ducks under a leaping Caller, blasting its throat in the air with a Mystic Shot. Dozens more Voidborn rushed forward, but Ezreal was too quick: Arcane Shifting backwards to allow an artillery shell from Kog'Maw to destroy them all in one fell swoop.

"Right, right." The boy mutters to himself. "Focus up. I have a job to do."

His gauntlet hummed with energy as the explorer wove through the Voidborn tide, looking for one very specific enemy. Without Kai'Sa and her plasma cannons, Ezreal knew that he was the only one with the firepower to kill it.

There.

The Dunebreaker shrieks out another challenge, squashing sand soldiers beneath its gargantuan claws. It was a living siege weapon even while half-blind, and Ezreal was not eager to find out what that thing was planning to do to all the juicy people locked inside Zuretta's flimsy walls. Giant limbs cleave through entire battlements, spears bouncing off its powerful hide.

"Hey ugly! Remember me?!"

As soon as their eyes meet, the Dunebreaker flies into a rage; ignoring everything else to charge towards him. The boy raised his shaking fist, taking aim with the glowing gauntlet.

Ezreal was done running.

Whatever other enemies were in the area were dealt with swiftly by the Dunebreaker's disregard for collateral damage. Ezreal was left with the tall order of pulling the gargantuan beast away from Zuretta on his own, repeatedly keeping himself in the air with constant Arcane Shifts.

"Come on!" The boy encourages himself, panting for breath as he runs for the hills. "Just a little more."

The weapon was beginning to burn his skin, but Ezreal couldn't afford to slow down even for a second. Essence Flux into a Mystic Shot, then rinse and repeat. The Tear of the Goddess erupts into a blinding blue, unleashing a gout of magical energy as the explorer wheels around: glowing golden.

"Trueshot Barrage!"

As the Dunebreaker looked poised to swallow him in its gargantuan jaws, Ezreal pulled on the gauntlet's golden string: spinning in the air. Three violet eyes widened in realization too late.

Its own velocity ensured that the Dunebreaker's limbs were cut off at the ankles, sending the titan stumbling onto the ground. As fast as the first one came, Ezreal reloaded the gauntlet in record time: cheek marks burning a blue as a second Trueshot Barrage followed the first.

"Trueshot Barrage Requiem!"

The Dunebreaker unleashed one last defiant screech as its head was caved by the projectile, the body collapsing to the sand. Ezreal's first reaction is to pry at the gauntlet of Ne'Zuk, glowing a brilliant gold from the heat. Wincing at the stinging touch, he managed to loosen it from his arm: tossing it into the ground. Even then, the damage was done: in the form of a light patch of red in the shape of his weapon.

"Damn. That was tough."

Ezreal knew that the fight was far from over, but he didn't have any energy left inside the tank. The boy fell forward onto one knee, breathing heavily with his hair clinging onto his scalp from the sweat. His heart lodged in his throat, the explorer pushed himself to stand: vision swimming from the sudden motion.

"Ok. Ok." Ezreal wheezed. "I-I'm here. I'm back."

Something plops onto the sand behind him with a shrill chirp. His migraine began to clear, a round blob coming into clearer focus as it approached.

"H-huh?"

Kog'Maw rubbed against his side in greeting, before gesturing towards the horizon. Suddenly, Ezreal didn't feel tired anymore: revitalized by a second wind billowing from the dregs of his soul. His conviction returns to him, bravery pushing aside the fatigue.

Kai'Sa was here.

While the Dunebreaker was too far for her to reach, the huntress was more than eager to rain hell upon its lesser minions.

Plasma missiles explode outwards from their muzzles, blanketing the sands in violet fire. Even with her attempts, the Voidborn replace their numbers as fast as they are culled. Switching tactics, Kai'Sa dove downwards: carving a swath through the horde and breaking up their uniform formation.

Frustrated with her flight, one of them leaped upwards.

The bloodied Xer'Sai rushed forward even as Kai'Sa reduced its skin to a bloodied mosaic. It bites down on her arm, but the armor does not yield a second time; the beast's teeth cracking as the huntress forces its jaws apart. With a grunt of exertion, she fires both cannons into its throat; ending the Drone in a burst of purple goop and chitin.

Landing on the ground, Kai'Sa flexed her claws: tearing into Voidborn by the dozen as they surged ahead. Her cannons worked overtime to keep their enemies at bay, firing swarms of missiles that spun and twisted mid-air. A kick found the jaw of yet another Drone, while her claw tore out a Caller's throat. Kai'Sa was powerful, but she knew that she could not keep this up forever.

Suddenly, a glob of acid vaporizes a good chunk of her enemies.

Countless more rain from the sky, clearing out the horde of Voidlings swarming beneath her feet. The onslaught gave her a bit of time to recharge her weapons, plasma refueling her cannons and her claws. Kai'Sa prepares to dodge any that may come from her, but her unknown benefactor had precision to match its power. Her mind briefly wanders to the only creature that could unleash such an attack.

Kog'Maw.

But any relief she had at this revelation is quickly replaced with dread as the horde parts: revealing an eerily human shadow at the center of the swarm. To her disgust, the Voidborn bowed in reverence: stopping their attack. Kai'Sa had seen something similar in stray dogs, allowing their leader to eat before they did.

"What a pleasant surprise, seeing you here."

A pair of spectral claws appeared at either side of her. Kai'Sa darts out of the attack as they collide; the cloud parting to reveal the mad prophet Malzahar. He removes his ever-present headdress, revealing a hairless scalp covered in a variety of runic markings: Icathian markings. They twisted and turned like disgusting worms just beneath the skin.

"You know, Zuretta is quite a ways away from your home. Then again, it is not like there's anything left of Narijah for you to go home to after what I did to it - is there?"

Her breath hitches in her throat. Every part of her human self was screaming for blood, but Kai'Sa knew better than to let her emotions get the best of her. He was toying with her, knowing full well that one flick of a finger was enough to shut down her second skin. She would have to tread carefully.

"If it is any solace, your father spent days looking for you: screaming at the desert to give his beloved family back."

"You do not get to mention my father."

"Ah? Did I hit a sore spot?" The prophet smirks. "The Void whispers to me when I sleep, girl, and it tells me - it tells me he's still out there somewhere. A half-mad shell of what he once was, yes, but he's out there."

"..."

"I warn you however, he's not the same as he was. Mad. Alone. Filled with nothing but sorrow and misery at how the Void took his family. It's quite pathetic if you ask me, though you are not much better."

Her vision turns red as Kai'Sa blitzed forward, a human-sized bullet of fury and fire. The roar of her cannons tore through the desert air, scorching any Voidborn who dared rush forward in defense of their master. She did not care what Malzahar could do to her armor, Kai'Sa was going to make this man drown in his own blood even if it killed her.

"It seems foolishness must run in the family."

With a frustratingly relaxed air to him, Malzahar flicked a finger: and a pair of gargantuan Xer'Sai drones erupt from the sand. Kai'Sa quickly shot upwards to avoid their reckless charges, before planting her claws onto their skulls and decimating their minuscule brains. She readjusts her course mid-air and shoots forth with renewed determination. For all his power, the prophet was only human: with limitations of a human mind. If Kai'Sa could just reach him before he could blink, it would not matter what sway he had over her second skin.

Her claws are almost at his throat - but then Malzahar acts.

"Too slow."

With a sickening crunch, the long-dead parasite was enveloped in a bright violet light, fighting against all of its instincts and straining to remove itself from her body. Kai'Sa bit down on her lips to muffle her cries, held up in the air by an ethereal claw of magic-infused plasma. His grip was deathly powerful: aided by her traitorous second skin weighing down on her body.

"Down we go."

With a frustratingly relaxed air to him, Malzahar flicks his hand to one side: tossing the huntress as if she weighs nothing. Kai'Sa pushed off from the ground, but a thousand needles dug into her skin with every motion. The bastard was forcing her armor to remove itself - their forced symbiosis torn apart at the seams. A harsh kick sent her to the side, the huntress grabbing on her abdomen in an attempt to force her second skin's armor plates back into place.

"I-I will- kill you."

"Still talking? How lively. The Sons of the Void will certainly enjoy your flesh."

He closes his hand; pulling back. The armor obeyed as if pulled by invisible strings, but Kai'Sa was not going to give this sick bastard the satisfaction of hearing her pain. A large chunk of the Void-flesh around her arm peeled off with a crack: exposing her human skin to the frigid elements of Shruima's night. More follow in rhythmic fashion, the pain coming in harsh sharp waves that sent Kai'Sa back down to the ground.

"Oblivion awaits."

With the last dregs of her strength, Kai'Sa removed her mask by force: revealing a splattering of red trickling from her lips and nose. Her expression was one of pure hatred and malice - yet the prophet remained impassive as her second skin continued to obey his will. It was a herculean task for her to even stand, but the girl forced herself regardless.

"Kai'Sa!"

No.

Ezreal stumbles as the two Voidborn turn to him, one with curiosity and the other in horror. Dozens of Voidlings rush forward in defense of their master, but a Trueshot Barrage clears the field.

"Let her go." The boy growled, filled with uncharacteristic rage. "I won't ask again."

"Or what?"

Without hesitation, a Mystic Shot is fired; fizzling against the prophet's violet shield. Ezreal looked on in shock as Malzahar brushed the dust from his shoulder, a dark smile sneaking onto his face. Despite the prophet's sinister influence, Kai'Sa's instincts flared in an attempt at warning her of danger.

Not for herself, but for her supposed rescuer.

"Kill him."

Every movement was slow, but the 'Protean' did not give Ezreal the luxury of holding back. Even with Kai'Sa straining against it, her second skin staggered towards him with an unrelenting killing intent. Claws unsheathed, coated in violent plasma. While the parasite had been through its own pain, it was far better off than its unwilling host: and a Voidborn was still a Voidborn no matter how much Kai'Sa had tried to suppress it.

"R-run!"

Her warnings are silenced with a flick of the prophet's fingers, mask muffling her pleas. Malzahar's sick grin twisted wider at her helplessness. This time, Kai'Sa could not hold her panic back behind a mask of calm: screaming into the mask even as Ezreal flailed uselessly in confusion. Her stolen arm swings forward, blocked in the nick of time. Ezreal flinched from the strength behind the blow: clutching at his arm in pain.

"What are you doing? Fight back!"

The Protean lunged the both of them forward: screeching in rage. Ezreal just barely dodged, his gauntlet ready to fire.

"Do it!" Kai'Sa shouted, even as no one heard her. "Finish it!"

Instead, the explorer teleported backwards - unable to fire even as his gauntlet remained pointed at his chest. Her 'Protean' lunged after without mercy; sending the unaware explorer sprawling onto the sand. Ezreal was able to shove her off: but not before her claws raked across his chest to draw blood. Both of them stared at the wound, Kai'Sa's breathing ramping up at the sight of his blood on her hands.

"Did you not hear me?" The prophet hissed impatiently. "Kill him."

A sudden heat turns her vision into a haze. The Protean's cannons gradually hum to life - crackling with enough plasma to vaporize even a modestly sized Voidborn. Ezreal was pale, shivering and barely scrambling back from the ground. He was frustratingly vacant as her armor took aim, plasma building with every second.

"I warned you, didn't I? It was - inevitable."

Kai'Sa grit her teeth and pushed against the suit with all her might. Slowly but surely, her fingers flexed in and out: her human limbs barely able to move the second skin wrapped around it. The foolish prophet paid her no heed as Kai'Sa regained control over her arms, with just enough strength to move them even beneath the weight of the Protean. The huntress knew what was coming, but if it was her life or Ezreal's: there was only one choice Kai'Sa would ever make.

As the cannon's roar reached a crescendo, she shot her hands upwards to block their muzzles.

Plasma met plasma, detonating as soon as it reached its critical mass. Two voices yell at once.

"No!"

Any satisfaction she had at running his plan was drowned out by the pain of her wounds. Bits and pieces of her tattered armor had scattered into the sand, the frigid desert winds taking every chance to bite and itch at her exposed human skin.

"You foolish girl!" Malzahar raised both of his arms, plasma lancing between his fingertips. "What have you-"

A yellow blur crashes into the prophet with a howl of rage, the two tumbling towards the sand.

"BASTARD!"

With a sickening crack, Ezreal slammed a rock into the man's face; breathing heavily. His fists trembled as he staggered upward, gripping at his chest. The explorer nearly trips on his way to her side, sliding onto his knees and desperately trying to stem the bleeding from her variety of wounds with a cloth. In seconds, it turned from white to a deep violet-red: a result of human blood mixed with the corrupted plasma that pumped through her veins. Without Malzahar's influence, her second skin had begun to heal itself: but it was from enough.

"S-stop. Save Zuretta."

Despite this, he continued to try.

"E-Ezreal." Kai'Sa said more firmly, coughing. "Please."

A potion was uncorked, and the bitter taste entered through her parted lips. Try as she might to push it aside, Kai'Sa felt its healing touch wasted on her wounds.

"P-please. Stop."

"No, no! I am not leaving you!" He choked. "Please, please just let me do something right for once in my life!"

"Enough. I-it is over."

"It can't be!"

Exhausting his options, the poor explorer looked at her body dumbfoundedly: gaunt and skeletal under the moonlight. Kai'Sa managed the briefest of smiles as she reached up, touching his cheek to push him away. Her wounds were too much, but the huntress could pass knowing that she had fought a good fight.

"You have done - enough."

"I-I-"

"T-thank you."

Her last words come out weaker than she intends, a listless breeze rather than a gale. Kai'Sa allowed herself to rest in his arms, her eyes wandering over to the distant horizon. At least Shurima looked beautiful, a blanket of darkness with glittering stars spread across it. A pair of figures crest a dune, it is only thanks to her Voidborn eyes that Kai'Sa recognizes them.

A wolf and a lamb.