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Ruination: Return Chapter V
Shadow Behind the Gilding Part IV
Riven moves before the others can even utter a cry of surprise.
All her rage.
All her pain.
All her fear coalesces into a tornado of whipping green wind as her blade slots back together, aiming at the smirking bandaged man behind the Ruined and her currently roaring comrade.
The one with bladed legs interposes, catching the blade on one of her lower limbs, but the force of the blow sends her staggering and sends a cascade of green energy lancing into the wall shattering it in a blast of wind.
Singed turns to the devastation beside him and back to her.
"Curious," he mutters, and she goes to strike at him again, only to get blocked by Olaf and the woman with massive fists.
"We need to leave!" Ezreal shouts, blasting several shots at the bladed-woman who turns to him with eerily mechanical precision.
She doesn't even flinch when Vayne plants a bolt directly into her forehead.
Gwen raises her scissors and spins up a shield of Mist around her compatriots, looking down in confusion as Vayne presses something into her hand.
And all the while, Riven continues her assault, slashing and battering her opponents, slamming them back as she tries to reach Singed.
Tormenter.
Haunter.
Murderer.
She wants nothing more than to drive her blade through his chest and carve upward, ending this monster so vile the Black Mist need not touch him to convince him to do its work.
Yet Olaf and the smaller Zuanite woman keep interposing, battering her blows aside, and she can feel cuts and bruises beginning to slow her down.
She would avenge her sisters.
She would avenge the fallen.
She would avenge herself!
"Riven, we can't fight here!" Vayne barks, but she can barely hear them. Ezreal and Vayne fire around her, but they are sliding backward, Gwen concentrating on keeping the Mist at bay.
The Mist it…it's so thick, she, she can't see. She…where is Singed. She needs to.
She feels something grasping at her mind and glances around.
The Black Mist fills the room.
Its whispers are in her ears.
She blinks. Olaf is no longer on her, replaced with the bladed-woman.
She turns, seeing her former ally battering against Gwen's barrier, veins pulsing with purple-black corruption.
"We have to le-" Ezreal shouts at her but is cut off as Olaf breaks through Gwen's defenses and catches him in the chest with the flat of his ax.
He slams into the wall and his head slumps. Blood begins to trickle out from amongst his hair.
Gwen parries the next blow but is pushed to her knees.
"Olaf, please," Gwen begs, reaching out a hand, Hallowed Mist dancing from her fingers, reaching out like a comforting hand.
He shakes his head, his eyes blinking, the purple fading for a moment, but a pulse seems to wrack his body, and he swings on her again.
Riven is there in a blink, parrying the blow, and bullrushes the giant into the wall.
She slams her blade into the ground, and a burst of wind erupts around her, knocking their other opponents back and briefly dissipating the Mist.
She scoops up Ezreal and throws him over one shoulder, "Let's move."
Olaf surges to his feet as the three begin to back further into the hallway.
"What about Olaf?!" Gwen demands.
"We can't help him now!" Vayne remarks, "Something else is coming, and we are standing in a kill box."
She slams a set of earplugs into Riven's hands.
"Put those in," Vayne demands, dropping to her knee and sending one of her snaring bolts down range, silver wire creating a burning net about the two Ruined as they attempt to rush them.
Riven quickly does so, and some of the anger fades, a clarity she didn't know had been slipping returning to her.
Olaf pushes the Ruined out of the way and bullrushes them with a bellow.
"Out now!" Riven cries, shattering the window next to them to splinters and leaping through it.
Vayne follows, but Gwen hesitates, reaching her hands out toward Olaf one more time.
"You are too stubborn to be overtaken like this!" she states.
Once more, the Hallowed Mist wraps around Olaf, and he falters. He blinks, his eyes returning to normal.
"I…that sniveling rat!" Olaf growls, turning, "I am no one's pup-argh!"
He cries out, clutching the side of his head as his veins pulse once more.
Singed appears amongst the Black Mist, untouched and unchanged, shaking his head as Riven desperately tries to pull Gwen after her.
"It whispers that you can counter its effects." he murmurs, reaching out to stroke the Mist like an owner dotting on their favored pet, "But my concoction…."
He nods to the Zaunite woman, whose veins pulse with the same mixture as Olaf's.
"Simply draws out one's true nature." Singed remarks, "The angrier the…more potent its staying power."
Olaf snarls, raising his axes, and turns to the others.
"Run!" he orders, taking a stand against the Ruined even as his own body attempts to rebel against him.
"You…you are stronger than this." Gwen returns.
He snarls at her, and she backs away, Riven setting Ezreal down to lift her out, Gwen still reaching for Olaf.
"If…if it comes to it." he chokes out, the purple slowly refilling his eyes, "Make sure my death is a good one."
Vayne tosses another net, the silver wires biting into his flesh, burning the patches where the Black Mist chugged beneath the skin.
Olaf snarls and attempts to break free, and the three bolt away, Riven still carrying Ezreal, from the building and freeze as around the corner, arrayed before them is what had been missing from Piltover the entire time.
The people.
Their moving swiftly now, growing closer and closer to the surface.
His eyes briefly lock onto a blue bird that races before them, somehow able to outpace them.
Then he hears the music, and his expression hardens.
He signals for the others to put in their headphones.
This was going to be interesting.
Ezreal opens his eyes and looks around, blinking in the blinding sunlight, and rolls over, seeing three of his allies arrayed before him, weapons drawn.
He looks past them and freezes.
Standing before them, shoulder to shoulder, heads raised high, bronze plating covering various parts of their bodies are Piltovans.
Old, young, Wardens, Merchants, Clan Leaders, Academics, and Forgeworkers.
Armored in ticking bronze, eyes bleeding the Black Mist.
"On your feet." Vayne orders, seeing him awake.
He scrambles to do so and looks around. On the rooves of buildings, numerous golems crouch, perching like glinting birds or hunting cats, the Black Mist seeping from their steam vents and seams.
It was four against a hundred, no hundreds, as he could see more armored Piltovans approaching, walking in perfect rhythm.
All were armed: wrenches, guns, freshly crafted swords.
A Legion of Bronzework.
And stalking amongst them, he can see the two that attacked them before.
"What are we doing?" Riven demands, looking at him.
"What are we dealing with?" Vayne asks as the nearest Bronzeworks step forward in unison.
Ezreal looks back, and all he can see is a cliff leading deeper into the city. He glances up and sees the Conveyor beside the Academy…behind the army arrayed before them.
"We need a way out, but…pretty sure only one of us can fly." Ezreal notes bitterly, searching rapidly for an angle.
"As for what all of that is, I have no idea." Ezreal notes, activating his gauntlet as the army once again steps forward in lockstep.
"None at all?" Gwen remarks.
"Right, the two stalking around back there, swords for feet, is Camille. She's a bounty hunter, basically." Ezreal states.
"And the other one?" Vayne asks.
"Think her name is Vi, Warden, or Sump Revolutionary. It's kinda fuzzy, all I know is she helped kill a Chem Baron a while back, but those fists can shatter steel." Ezreal states, "They were made…they were made by…"
He stops, staring towards the steps of the Academy, where something was standing, no…two somethings.
Their forms glinted in the sun, more metal than flesh, but he could see the hints of humanity remaining.
The one holds what looks like a staff in one hand, and he couldn't be sure if it is wearing the remains of a Golem or…if those pieces had been grafted onto it.
The other is a woman, hovering, her body wrapped in a hex-tech shell, long pink hair cascading outwards, her head partially listing to the side. A hextech gem sits in the center of her chest, and she is….she is singing.
Singing and shifting her hands, and with each note, the altered Piltovans took a step forward.
"Viego turned the Glorious Revolution…" he gasps, "The whole city has been…."
"Get it together, Ezreal," Vayne states as they are forced to shift back once again.
"Right, we need…we need…we need a damn miracle," he mutters, attempting to think how they will get out of this one.
Gwen turns to look at him, giving a reassuring smile, which changes into a look of confusion and then joy.
Ezreal turns, and all he sees for a moment is a large blue bird racing swiftly into the sky.
And then a dozen air-boards and what looks like a small thropter racing into the air, with shouts, whoops, and challenges.
Ezreal blinks, recognizing the regalia, and then turns as Camille and Vi suddenly surge forward, Olaf emerging from around the corner, froth on his lips, veins bulging near to burst, and a roar on his lips.
"Firelights!" the lead bellows, his coat flapping in the wind, white owl-like mask glinting in the sun, "Havok Hour!"
Explosions rock the front lines, thick orange crystals growing into a wall as several of the Fireligthts let explosives fly.
One skids to a halt next to the Sentinels, green hair windblown and oddly sparking with electricity.
"You're Sentinals, ya?" she asks.
Riven and Vayne stay focused on the fight, the former battering away attacking Bronzeworks. At the same time, Vayne fires net after net toward the surging Camille and Vi, attempting to tie them down long enough for an actual plan to form out of the ensuing chaos.
"Yes," Gwen states.
"Then we're your ride out of here!" states cheerily.
She lets out a whistle, and what at first Ezreal thought was a very blocky chopper turned out to be a golem, wearing some odd "copter-pack."
"Blitz! Let's get them out." the girl calls.
"Gwen first." Vayne orders.
Gwen shakes her head, "I do not need assistance."
"Fine, Riven, melee isn't going to work in this scenario." Vayne states, "Ezreal, firing line, Gwen go with her."
Ezreal falls into line with Vayne, picking off charging Piltovans. All around, the Firelights flit about like kicked hornets, dropping explosives, buzzing formations, firing off shots from pistols and rifles. There are only a dozen, but they wreak havoc.
The golem lowers a hand attached to a long cable, with Riven stepping onto it like a platform and wrapping her hands around it.
The Firelight leader buzzes them, "We don't have much time!"
He points with his weapon, a bat crafted from a clock hand, towards the golems on the rooves, hopping down and charging them. The Hextech Siren is also on the move, twitching erratically as she slowly hovers toward them.
"Ezreal, get on." Vayne orders, nodding to the other lowered hand.
The crystalline structure shatters and through it surge Vi, Camille, and Olaf.
"About that." Ezreal remarks, pushing Vayne, who looks at him aghast.
She stumbles onto the hand, and the golem looks down at him.
"Get them out!" Ezreal orders, turning to Gwen, "You too."
"But," she mutters, and he gives her a reassuring smile.
"I'm right behind you," he states.
"I've got him." the Firelight Girl reassures.
Vayne goes to step off, but the golem draws her upwards, forcing her to hold on, and dives over the edge, several Firelights taking that as a hint to disengage as well.
Gwen hesitantly hops onto her scissors and lifts into the air, but Ezreal waves her on.
He plants a knee, drawing all his energy into his gauntlet. He ignores the frantic lightning beginning to crackle across the Firelight beside him as the others dart by, filling their air with whirring motors.
He fires, the crescent slamming into Vi and Camille and sending them rolling across the ground, but Olaf dodges and keeps coming, a roar on his lips.
The girl points a finger toward the onrushing Olaf.
"You missed one," she states with just a little too much confidence, "I got him."
A bolt of green electricity lances out of her finger and crashes into Olaf's chest.
The Freljordian skids to a halt as the electricity racks through his body.
"Let's go!" the girl states, hopping on her board and hovering in the air.
Ezreal glances back and sees Olaf's body beginning to glow blue as the lightning changes color and a bellow leaves his lips.
He throws his axe aiming for the girl.
And Ezreal moves, teleporting directly in the path, and the next thing he knows, he is falling.
The girl lets out a cry and darts after him, and he reaches out for her.
And then another hand grabs him.
Looking up, he sees the owl-like mask of the Firelight Leader looking down at him.
"A pretty brave move for a Piltie," he states.
"That…that's me," Ezreal mutters as he sees Gwen swiftly approaching, worry on her face, "The pretty brave Piltie."
"Yeah, well, let's get you and the others somewhere safe, yeah?" the Leader asks.
"Sure, but can you pull me up?" Ezreal asks.
Atop the cliff, Olaf rages inside his mind, fighting for control of his body even as he feels the repugnant concoction pulsing in his blood.
He turns with a snarl as the Ruined goes to attention. This warped metal thing is approaching, walking in time with the corrosive vermin that had done this to him.
"The Firelights continue to be a problem." the metal thing states. Four metallic arms protrude from its shoulders. Its body was wreathed in a mixture of bronze mist and Black Mist with the appearance of wiring. A bronze cog sat in the center of its chest like an emblem wreathed in green fire.
"They do, but they will fall in line in time." Singed remarks, "After all, if brutes such as this can be tamed…."
And gestures to Olaf and the woman with mechanical fists.
"Then surely so too can their rebellious sparks." Singed finishes.
Olaf fights to plant his axe in Singed's chest. He cannot.
"We have to keep Piltover safe." the metal-thing states, "You and the Siren will make sure the Barrier holds."
"Of course." Singed returns, bowing his head, "Of course, with this new guard dog, it will be all the easier."
Olaf snarls the only thing he can manage in this state of forced servitude.
The Machine thing turned to Vi and Camille, "That safety can only be assured if we return the King's property. Find it."
The two bow and race away.
"This City will not fall as long as I am here." the machine-thing states, though who it speaks to Olaf can't be sure.
It hefts its hammer and leaves, and Olaf is left thinking about all the ways he could bury his ax in the face of the bandaged man before him.
And scene.
So…been a hot second, but hey, look at that, look at all that fuckery, ain't that nice?
Ain't that Cool?
Next time, answers, plans, and the Sentinels finally come face to face with the source of their goose chase.
As always, any comments, questions, or critiques are appreciated. This has been VerBeeker, signing off!