"Awoo!!"
Across the endless desert, waves of golden sand stretched to the horizon. A long, resonant howl of a wolf tore through the still air—at the same moment, a vehicle drawn by a massive three-headed hound surged forward across the dunes.
Loose sand should never have been able to bear the weight of a carriage, nor were its wheels designed for desert travel—yet under the creature's power, it glided across the sand as smoothly as if on silk.
Behind it, a gold-and-crimson motorcycle followed close, its twin wheels churning up clouds of dust like a rolling dragon.
On the side of the bike hung an ominous halberd, its heart-shaped core still faintly beating where the blade fused with the shaft.
"Where to next?"
Duke opened the partition between the front and rear compartments, glancing at the little sparrow in the back. Taliyah, who had removed her robe to reveal the short desert garb beneath, awkwardly pushed open the window and peered out at the winding, dried-up riverbed ahead.
"Follow the river south, Mr. Duke!"
"Alright!" Duke nodded with satisfaction and barked a command. Rage—the three-headed hound—snapped to attention and turned sharply, charging toward the riverbed.
It leapt down a nearly vertical slope, the entire carriage suspended briefly in midair before landing with the lightness of a feather, as if an unseen hand had steadied it.
"This river," Taliyah said, gazing wistfully at the desolate banks flashing by, "was said to have originated from ancient Shurima's capital. They called it the Mother of Life. But now… it's just a dead river."
Duke barely looked up from his notes. "Don't worry. It won't be long before water flows here again."
"Really?"
"That day isn't far off."
"Mr. Duke, it feels like you know everything!" Taliyah leaned over the partition, curious eyes peeking at what he was doing.
"There are many things buried by history," Duke replied, scribbling rapidly. "But some of us remember."
He was recording his observations and hypotheses about Darkin weapons, each thought meticulously noted for future use in developing his biological armor project.
"And I just happen to be one of those few who remember."
"That's amazing!" Taliyah said, eyes bright with admiration.
Duke shook his head. "Not amazing—just experienced. The more you see, the more you know."
"I have deep knowledge of certain people and certain things."
"Certain people and things?" she asked, puzzled. "Like what?"
"Like…" Duke looked up with a sly smile. "A clumsy girl who tried to hunt rabbits, only to trigger an avalanche that buried her future teacher alive?"
Taliyah froze, eyes widening in shock. That incident—only she and Yasuo knew about it. It was the very moment their fates intertwined.
"I told you, little sparrow," Duke said, retrieving a popsicle from the mini freezer and passing it through the partition window, "I know quite a lot about certain people and things."
"You're one of them. And your self-exiled teacher is another."
Taliyah stared at the popsicle in her hand, momentarily forgetting to eat. How could he know so much?
"Are you… a prophet?"
"I'm just a scientist."
Duke shook his head. The truth was simpler—he knew all of this because, in his previous life, he'd read the League of Legends lore by heart.
As for prophecy? No one could truly foresee the future.
Prophecy was nothing more than observation—and interference.
Like Schrödinger's cat: before observation, both outcomes existed in superposition. But the moment you observed, you collapsed the possibilities into one—an outcome shaped by interference.
Foreseeing the future was the same. A so-called "prophet" merely observed one thread of time, causing it to collapse into certainty—and by doing so, ensured events would unfold toward that future.
But what if the prophet had looked at a different thread?
Would the outcome not change entirely?
That was the essence of the multiverse hypothesis—every choice, every observation, branching reality into countless possibilities.
Duke's quantum research aimed to do more than observe. He sought to control the quantum field—to become omniscient and omnipotent through science itself.
"So scientists can know everything?" Taliyah asked, her curiosity unending.
"No," Duke corrected her, smiling faintly. "Scientists learn what others don't know—through study and exploration."
"Can they know everything?"
"Everything," Duke replied. "Even the path to godhood."
He turned slightly, his smile sharp. "Would you like to know it?"
Taliyah shivered. In Duke's eyes, she saw no trace of warmth—only the cold detachment of someone who had dissected all of existence and found it wanting.
"I just want to return to my tribe," she said firmly, "and protect my people."
"What a pity," Duke murmured, jotting another note. "You've just turned down the chance to become a god."
"Then I'll leave godhood to you, Mr. Duke," Taliyah replied softly.
Unbothered, Duke continued writing, while Taliyah unwrapped her popsicle and savored its rare sweetness amidst the desert heat. Her other hand played idly with a few smooth stones.
Rage pulled the vehicle swiftly along the riverbed. Thanks to its magnetic suspension, the carriage's weight barely burdened the beast. Pride followed behind on his crimson motorcycle, serving as escort.
As for Gluttony… Duke had left her behind—he didn't want her devouring half the riverbed on the way.
The further they went south, the closer they drew to Veikaura.
Once, Veikaura had been little more than a settlement built atop ancient ruins—a resting place for travelers and mages. But now, with Azir resurrected and the Sun Disc once again ascending, the ancient city had begun its own rebirth.
Taliyah gazed out the window at the faint skyline ahead, sighing softly. "I feel useless… I'm supposed to be your guide, but I can hardly do anything."
Her words trailed off as something glittered in the distance. She squinted—sunlight reflecting off metal.
Armor.
Someone was out there.
And definitely not bandits—no sane thief would let the sun reflect off their armor to announce their presence to passing travelers.
"Mr. Duke!" she called urgently. "There's someone injured up ahead. Can we check on them? Please?"
Duke stopped writing and tapped the keyboard beside him. A blue holographic screen appeared, projecting the image Taliyah described.
A woman with long black hair and bronze skin lay half-buried in the sand. Blood stained the dunes around her pale face.
"Oh?"
Duke's brows lifted. He gave Taliyah a curious glance. Was this coincidence—or fate correcting the timeline?
Even after altering Taliyah's path, fate had still led her back to Sivir.
"Fate really is fascinating," he muttered.
He instructed Rage to approach and opened his inventory. If he remembered correctly, even though Azir had once revived Sivir with the Waters of Life, she hadn't stayed safe for long.
Distrustful of Azir, she'd fled the moment she woke—and considering Cassiopeia's poisoned dagger, her survival odds had been low.
Now it seemed she'd been washed downstream and stranded here—barely clinging to life.
Rage halted beside the fallen woman. The famed Battle Mistress of Shurima was half-buried, her body broken, her breath faint.
If no one intervened, the last thread of Shurima's golden bloodline would soon be severed.
Taliyah leapt from the carriage before Duke had even opened his door. She crouched beside Sivir, feeling for breath.
"She's still alive, Mr. Duke!" she exclaimed joyfully.
Duke raised an eyebrow as he stepped closer. "It really doesn't matter where I go—my customers always find me."
Sivir was clad in a heavily damaged D-series exosuit—an older model exported from Piltover, now cracked and sparking.
"Why is it that everyone I meet treats my creations so roughly?" Duke sighed. He grabbed Sivir by the arm and pulled her from the sand—not gently. The movement reopened a wound across her back, blood spilling into the golden dunes.
"Mr. Duke! Be careful—you're making it worse!" Taliyah protested.
"Relax. I can save her."
"You can heal people?"
"Of course. So put away that sewing kit," Duke said, glancing at the gold-thread needles Taliyah had pulled out. "Stitching wounds with that will only cause infection and death."
He reached into his inventory and withdrew a sleek, luminous pod—a Regeneration Cradle.
"Are you… burying her on the spot?" Taliyah asked hesitantly.
"This isn't a coffin," Duke said, placing the pod on the ground. "It's a regeneration chamber. It can repair any injury—as long as the brain's intact. Even a pierced heart can be restored."
"Really?"
"Really."
He removed the remnants of Sivir's armor and placed her inside the cradle, setting the sequence. "Half an hour," he said. "Then she'll be up and running again."
Taliyah exhaled with relief. Duke shook his head lightly—such a kind-hearted little sparrow.
"If you've got time to sigh, Taliyah," he said, "help me find a cross-shaped blade nearby. It should be close."
He was referring to Sivir's Chalicar—the divine weapon once wielded by the Ascended warrior Setaka. It contained the power to slay even the godlike Ascended themselves.
It was with that very weapon that Maesha, the former Aspect of Twilight, had murdered her fellow Ascended.
"Right!"
Taliyah began searching the sands while Duke retrieved the Darkin halberd from Pride and drove its blade into the blood-stained sand beside Sivir.
"Tayanari," he said quietly, "our deal—I've kept my part. Here lies the blood of Shurima's last child of the Sun. Savor it well."
End of chapter....
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