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Zaun
Viktor stood atop a towering structure encased in a sleek, pitch-black mechanical frame that radiated an ominous presence. The same spot where Silco once stood is now occupied by the calculating scientist.
Beside him, however, it wasn't Silco this time—it was Camille, her piercing Hextech-augmented eyes glowing faintly in the dim Zaunite light.
The precision of her movements and her calm demeanor added a sharp tension to the scene.
Her indifferent gaze fixated on a tall, hulking figure below—a grotesque combination of flesh and steel. The target was unmistakable.
"He's the one we're after today," Camille remarked coldly.
"A soldier who refused to stop fighting even after losing his hands. He grafted scythes onto his arms and kept going. Admirable, yet tragic."
"Urgot," Viktor's monotone voice echoed, distorted slightly by the steel encasing him.
"Once the executioner of the Noxian Empire. Now, a tool is sent to eliminate us. A desperate move by Noxus to reclaim control over Zaun."
The scientist's words carried no emotion, only analysis.
Darkwill, their shared adversary, sought to tighten their grip on Zaun by suppressing the rebellion by sending Urgot. It was a clever strategy—on paper.
But…
"The strength of the one below does not seem adequate for his mission," Viktor added, his tone dismissive.
Camille took a step forward, preparing to strike, but Viktor raised a hand to stop her.
"I require a test subject," he stated matter-of-factly.
"And he will do perfectly."
"Interesting," Camille replied, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.
She halted, her sapphire eyes glinting with intrigue as she watched the scene unfold below.
"Blitzcrank," Viktor said softly, "release it."
"Understood... Command... received!" Blitzcrank's metallic voice responded, its speech staggered yet purposeful.
Moments later, a low whistle of wind filled the alleyway.
Urgot, standing below, stiffened. He raised his grotesque scythe arms, scanning his surroundings with a predator's instincts.
Then it came.
A deep, guttural growl echoed from the shadows.
Two glowing green eyes pierced the darkness. The creature that emerged was monstrous—a dark-gray dragon-like entity, its body glistening with alchemical fluids that dripped onto the ground, sizzling faintly.
Mechanical components adorned its form, their craftsmanship eerily precise, but its construction bore the marks of urgency.
The beast exhaled, releasing a blast of searing heat. The air in the narrow alley grew heavy and oppressive.
"Dragon?" Urgot sneered, narrowing his eyes. He adjusted his stance, raising his scythes defensively.
The creature bore a faint resemblance to the legendary dragons he had heard of in tales, but it was smaller, barely a dozen meters long.
It was no mythical beast—it was a creation of man, a mockery of true dragons.
Urgot grinned, his voice thick with disdain.
"Hah! Just another alchemical experiment. Weak skin hiding weaker steel. Another corpse for the pile."
He had heard of dragons—behemoths whose sheer size was a testament to their strength. This thing, in his mind, was an imitation.
Fueled by overconfidence, Urgot charged forward, scythes swinging wildly. His bloodthirsty laughter echoed in the alley as he leaped into the air, forcing his blades down.
Screech!
The clash of metal and alchemical scales rang out, a futile display of power against something far beyond Urgot's understanding.
From above, Camille observed with quiet amusement.
"He may lack the strength to win, but at least he has the resolve to die."
She turned away, losing interest in the spectacle.
"Pathetic."
Viktor remained motionless, watching as the alchemical dragon toyed with Urgot.
The Noxian's strikes grew weaker with each swing, his grotesque form slowly succumbing.
"The Noxians were not as formidable as I thought," Viktor murmured, almost disappointed.
"This test was of little value."
Yet, he considered the hulking man's potential—a pawn, perhaps, in a larger game.
"Blitzcrank," Viktor instructed, "retrieve him. He'll make an intriguing subject—a gift, perhaps."
"Understood... Retrieval... in progress."
As Blitzcrank prepared to descend, Viktor turned and began to leave, his mechanical frame humming softly.
Camille followed suit, her indifference unshaken.
Below, Urgot's battered body hung limply from the horn of the Chemtech Drake, his scythe-arms dangling uselessly. The once-proud executioner of Noxus was now reduced to silence, his fate sealed in Zaun's shadows.
...
On the Plain
The water and fire dragons continued their aerial dance, weaving through the battlefield below. On the ground, soldiers clashed fiercely against leopard wolves and towering giants.
Every passing moment claimed lives—human and beast alike.
Snap!
The chessboard had shifted subtly without notice. The side closest to Ryan was now flooded with water, while LeBlanc's half burned with fire.
Yet, despite the changing elements, the chess pieces remained unmoving in their positions.
Only one piece had vanished—a soldier piece near Ryan's rear line.
"It seems your ghostly flames can't evaporate my flowing water," Ryan said calmly, his voice steady as he moved a white chess piece forward.
The water on the board surged forward, pressing against the black pieces with unrelenting force.
"But you can't catch me either," LeBlanc replied, a smirk curling her lips.
"The Black Rose... is everywhere."
She took a slow sip from her teacup, her demeanor as composed as ever.
Though the chessboard showed signs of her army faltering, the Black Queen herself seemed untouched by the looming threat.
Ryan's eyes narrowed slightly, his tone growing colder.
"But I have no intention of prolonging this any further. The end of the game isn't the queen's demise... it's the king's."
With a flick of his wrist, the ring on his finger transformed into a shimmering blue queen chess piece.
He placed it on the board with decisive force, the move cutting off all escape routes for the black king. The impact reverberated through the board like thunder.
For the first time, LeBlanc's expression shifted. Her confident mask slipped, revealing a flicker of surprise.
She looked up at Ryan, her eyes wide with astonishment.
"The power of that dark magic..." she murmured, her voice tinged with disbelief.
"It's... incredible!"
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Hundreds of Kilometers Away – The Immortal Bastion
Crows scattered into the air, their dark wings cutting through the ominous skies. But even with their departure, no light broke through the oppressive darkness overhead.
"Brother Draven, look at the sky!" a young soldier stammered, pointing upwards.
Draven, the showman and executioner of Noxus, had just pulled his spinning axes from the body of an unfortunate foe.
His face glowed with bloodthirsty excitement until his younger brother's words interrupted his revelry. (T/N: Not blood brother, more like brothers in combat)
He spun around, irritation flaring.
"What now? This is a battlefield, not a sightseeing tour! You should be learning from me, your big brother! Watch how a real legend handles—"
He stopped mid-sentence as his gaze followed the soldier's outstretched hand. His expression twisted into disbelief.
"What the hell is that?" he muttered, stunned.
Above them, a dark, gothic castle floated silently in the sky. Its massive walls were fortified and covered in intricate magical patterns that glowed with pulsating black energy.
The castle's central tower loomed like a colossal mage's spire, radiating an otherworldly black light that swallowed the sky.
The eerie glow seemed to drain the color from the world below, casting the battlefield in shadows.
Draven's little brother spoke in awe, "It's… a castle? But how—"
"Shut it!"
Draven snapped, more out of frustration than anger. His bravado returned quickly, though his eyes remained glued to the imposing sight.
"That skinny mage Ryan... he's behind this, right? Damn it, why does he get all the cool stuff?"
The sudden appearance of the floating castle sent shockwaves of fear through the ranks.
Even the elite forces of Darkwill, hardened warriors who had seen countless battles, faltered as unease gripped their hearts.
But not the Trifarix Legion. The sight of the castle only ignited their fervor.
The open book emblem etched into the castle walls glowed ominously, and the soldiers of the Trifarix Army erupted into cheers.
Their strikes became faster, more precise, and more relentless as they pushed the advantage.
Draven scratched the back of his head, his characteristic grin faltering.