[Fanfiction] Fracture - Chapter 5
PROLOGUE: http://boards.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/c/fancreations/fZAXxjHA-fanfiction-fracture PREVIOUS CHAPTER: http://boards.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/c/fancreations/q02EB8UI-fracture-chapter-4
Fanfiction.net link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10770866/1/Fracture
Genres: Suspense/Drama/Mystery/a lot of others Characters: Leona, Caitlyn, Nasus, Kassadin, too many to list
Summary: The machine that sustains the lethal matches of the League fails. Events spiral outwards. (Character death.)
Note: I made a little flub in the thread title of the last chapter. Whoops.
PRAXIS
"I'd really appreciate it next time if you didn't show up drunk," she sighed, crossing her arms.
"Heh, think this is drunk? I'm just a little buzzed." The Outlaw kicked back, taking a swig out of the bottle. "If you're lookin' to see drunk, wait twenty minutes."
"I need you sober, Mr. Graves," she told him curtly. "Look, all details of your motivations in post aside, you shot her and that was it? It was all business as usual up until that point?"
"Just about, I reckon," he answered, suppressing a hiccup. "That all you wanted?"
"Well, if that's really all there is..." Caitlyn grumbled, more than irritated, "then I suppose that's it. You can leave."
"Great." He took another long chug, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he rose haphazardly from his chair. "So long, sheriff."
"Do try not to drink so much of that," she called after him as he staggered through the door. "We'll need you alive for testimony later, and your liver has to be in working order for that."
She thought she could hear him laughing off her advice as he went, and it took all her self-control to physically will her eye not to twitch. Bilgewater lot were so troublesome to deal with – and such raging alcoholics she wondered how most of them functioned.
The Sheriff of Piltover sighed, sinking in her seat just the slightest bit. It would be nine days now since the incident, and while they'd gotten a fair amount of information, they only had but a few slivers of a lead. There had been an attack in the Ionian quarter two days ago, and she had spent all day yesterday looking into that – but the destruction caused by the victim's rescuers was impossible to tell from the destruction caused by the attacker, so investigating the crime scene had been well nigh impossible. She had interviewed the first one on scene, the Eye of Twilight, but he had seen nothing to indicate who had committed the crime. They had already fled by the time his teleport finished channeling – likely, they saw the shield and thought it best to retreat. Of course she had considered the possibility that he had been lying, but the likelihood of that was so low it could hardly be considered.
The attack was exceedingly curious, and Caitlyn didn't doubt that it was connected to the incident. The question was how. The victim, the Nine-Tailed Fox, wasn't affiliated with the Scorn of the Moon in any conceivable way, so as to why she had been the target of what seemed to be a very premeditated assault escaped her. Beyond that, the method – draining life – was characteristic of only two champions that she knew of: Jericho Swain, and the nightmarish creature known as Fiddlesticks. Because Fiddlesticks was under heavy guard by the Institution, he could be ruled out automatically, but if Swain was the culprit by process of elimination, there were far too many questions opened up for her to comfortably arrest him.
There was, of course, the Du Couteau sisters and their strange behavior. If that, too, connected back to the incident, then it wouldn't be implausible for Swain to have been the culprit. Possibly, all these incidences could have been the product of some obscure Noxian plot, but she simply could not understand what Noxus stood to gain by an extended disabling of the system, nor how Ahri tied back to it.
Caitlyn stifled a groan, sinking further into her chair as more and more questions arose. Nine days' worth of investigation, and they were hardly any closer to the truth than they were at the start. The only thing that had made any real progress was the work on the system; Ezreal and Jayce had been tasked to seek out a replacement crystal while Viktor handled repairs. The paranoiac trusted no one else with the operation of the machine – as the sheriff had heard it, he had been so suspicious during its development that the team that had been charged with assembling the system had been divided and given separate parts so they wouldn't understand it unless they made it whole.
The thing that bothered her was that that was what almost all her knowledge of the system amounted to. For being at the heart of the mystery, she could find an alarmingly little amount on it. Her weary ruminations were interrupted by a knock on the door and she straightened up immediately, clearing her throat.
"Come in."
"Sheriff," greeted the Curator of the Sands. "I believe you wished to speak to me."
"Yes, thank you very much. Please take a seat." Caitlyn gestured to the chair on the other side of the table.
In all honesty, she had forgotten about her need to interview the librarian what with the chaos of the recent days. It was certainly imperative that she fact-check Katarina's statements, but the assault in the Ionian quarter had demanded more of her attention at the time. In hindsight, she was certainly glad Nasus had come on his own – she might not have remembered otherwise.
"Now, I'd like for you to tell me about your activities on the day of the incident, focusing around noon, if you will."
He nodded, folding his hands across the table with a characteristic serenity that she had always admired.
"The day progressed as per usual. I attended to my duties in the archives, and did not leave until I received word of the accident, late into the afternoon," he recited, syntax calm and deliberate. "During the midday when it was said to have happened, I took lunch in the archive's office and returned to my work."
"You saw nothing suspicious or unusual that day?"
Nasus shook his head. "Nothing whatsoever."
The sheriff frowned, tapping at her chin. Something was amiss here.
"Did you receive any visitors? Did anyone come to the archives that day?"
"Visitors?" he repeated. The Curator of the Sands seemed to stop and think for a moment before looking up again – and then he said the magic words:
"None but the Battle Mistress."
.
.
.
Her footsteps rang loudly in the empty halls, but she could hardly hear them – there was only the sound of the blood rushing in her ears, the loud beating of her heart on an adrenaline high. Vi vaulted down the corridor, speeding through the mostly deserted Noxian quarter.
They got her – they got her.
"Cassiopeia!" she yelled at the top of her lungs, grinding to a halt before the woman's door. "I know you're in there!"
The Enforcer breathed harshly, gauntlet'ed hands balled into fists. Oh, she was so ready to get this on. Caitlyn had been running herself ragged trying to find some answers, and they'd finally found something concrete. Katarina hadn't been in her room – but there was someone they knew who'd be in their room no matter what.
"Get out here!" she shouted, after several seconds of silence.
Nothing.
Taking a deep breath, Vi pulled back one fist.
The door practically shattered, splinters flying everywhere as she rushed in. The Enforcer raised her hands, stance readied for resistance – but there was no one in sight. She paused, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
There was a hissing. Vi turned.
"Oh fuck!"
She threw herself backwards, gauntlets coming up to grab the huge, lunging serpent by its upper jaw. The force hurtled her to the floor and she coughed, trying to keep a firm grip on its gaping maw. It thrashed wildly, knocking her into the table, and then the bedframe.
"Ugh!"
Her head hit the wall. Vi gritted her teeth, struggling to rise as the serpent coiled around the table, circling back towards her. Was her vision getting grainy? Fuck, now was not the time. The huge snake reared its head back, readying for another strike and shakily, she got to her feet, back braced against the dented wall for support. The Enforcer pulled back one fist, charging the gauntlet.
It lunged.
She caught it by the mouth with one hand, yanking it over her shoulder and slamming it into the wall. The serpent hissed again, body flailing as it struggled to escape her hold. Her gauntlet was still charging. By now it had enough force to flatten a skull.
"Don't!" someone cried.
Vi drew back her fist.
And suddenly, there was a knife in her shoulder.
She gasped, releasing the snake as all the energy she had charged to her gauntlet dissipated. It sunk to the floor and slithered past her. Vi stumbled backwards, scrabbling at the wall for support.
"You f-fucking..." She turned her head, trying to look over her shoulder. "What the hell is going on here...?"
The Sinister Blade stood in the doorway, expression dead as stone. The serpent coiled around her feet.
"I'm sorry," said the Noxian assassin – and for one moment, Vi thought she was being honest. "I couldn't let you kill her."
"Kill who?" she snapped, leaning against the wall. Blood dribbled to the floor.
Katarina knelt down, and drew the serpent's head close.
"My sister."
.
.
.
Melting eyes. Dreaming fish. A swirling sea of blackness. Somewhere in the past – the present, or future – a slug gurgling death rose from the depths of the ocean. Rows of barren houses stood in moonlight. A rat dying of decay gasped its last.
There came a familiar voice carried on the draft, its siren song soothing, seductive. He focused, closing his eyes. In nothing, he saw everything.
A huge, lumbering creature in darkness. Glowing eyes piercing shadows. An insatiable hunger. A broken chain. Anger. Resentment. Impatience. Anticipation of a feast. Friend, foe, freedom. An opening door.
The voice paused for an infinitesimal moment of a second.
Come, it whispered to him. Malzahar stood.
It was time.
.
.
.
"Now you're going to sit here, and you're going to explain what the hell is going on here," snapped the sheriff, gesturing with an impatient hand at the seat across from her. "I don't give a damn about your 'Noxian confidentiality.' I want answers."
Katarina begrudgingly did as she was told, expression still set in a poker face even so. Nasus had stood and vacated his previous position, choosing to stand in the corner of the office and spectate the curious scene before him. The serpent that was allegedly Cassiopeia curled in the corner opposite, watched like a hawk by Vi, who had taken the time to wrap up her shoulder.
"It started about a year ago," began the Sinister Blade. "A few months after she joined the League. She became... different."
Caitlyn raised a single, unamused eyebrow. Katarina scowled at her.
"I mean, even more different." She sighed, leaning back in her chair. "She started getting more vain. Exceptionally vain about how much she'd changed. At the time, I thought it was just trauma, but..."
"But?" prompted the sheriff.
"But then things got worse. As the months went on, she started changing – physically," she explained. "The scales got higher and higher up her waist. It was slow, so it was hard to notice, but when I stopped and looked..."
"So she was already turning into a snake, then," Caitlyn reasoned, crossing her arms.
The Noxian assassin nodded. "And everyday, she got a little closer to acting like one, too. Her speech changed. She started dragging out her s's, subtle at first. I guess it wasn't as severe as then." She shrugged, looking away. "And then for some reason, she became involved with – with him."
"Him?"
Katarina shot an almost spiteful glance at Nasus. "His brother."
The Curator of the Sands straightened, ears turning upwards. "She... and my brother?"
"I don't know why – maybe it had something to do with the curse – but it was almost like she was drawn to him." The Sinister Blade scowled again. "Even when I told her to be careful, and keep out of sight, she'd sneak out to see him. I think she was leaving him things."
"Then the blanket from the previous day..." muttered Nasus, in shock. The sheriff's eyes darted briefly in his direction.
"If she was still leaving him things up until yesterday, she must have still been human then," Caitlyn remarked. "If it was so slow before, how come it's progressed so quickly now?"
"Hell if I know," answered the assassin. "Over the last week, it just started to get worse and worse. She's still Cass, even if she's a full snake now, but... I don't know how long that'll last."
The sheriff frowned, pausing a moment to think. "This is all very enlightening, but none of it makes sense in context. Why did you claim to visit the Curator? What were you talking about when you said 'Now or never?' Why is Cassiopeia drawn to Renekton?"
Katarina glared at her. "There was no 'claim,' okay? I told you that I took Cass to see him, and I did. We just never got there."
"Why not?"
"Because I stopped them."
All occupants of the room looked up at the newcomer in surprise. The Battle Mistress stood in the doorway, arms crossed.
"Sivir," greeted the Sinister Blade, eyes narrowing.
"Katarina," she replied with equal chill.
"Why did you stop them?" inquired the sheriff, curiously.
The mercenary entered the office, eyeing the serpent Cassiopeia with wariness as she went to stand next to Nasus.
"I know better than anyone the interest Noxus has in Shurima," she told them, shooting a pointed look at the assassin. "Like hell I was gonna let them poke around with him."
"That's cute," laughed Katarina, acidly. "Jealous?"
"Watching out for what's mine," she shot back coolly, and if Caitlyn hadn't known that it was Sivir who was speaking, she might've thought that the opening line to a cat-fight. "If I'd known it'd end up turning Cassiopeia into a snake, I'd have brought wine to the archives that day."
The librarian in dispute shifted his weight from one foot to the other, frowning.
"Figures that the one time you watched out for anything but yourself," snapped the Sinister Blade, "it'd end up screwing over my sister."
"Better than letting you screw with my new business partner," she retorted with a glare.
"That was not yours to decide," said Nasus in a low voice, interrupting their argument. Sivir's head snapped up, looking at him in disbelief before her expression turned to irritation.
"I was looking out for you," she protested. "Better for them to handle their own problems than risk you getting carted off to a laboratory."
"That was not yours to decide," he said again. His voice didn't betray any sort of anger, but there was an icy quality to its placidity. The Curator of the Sands seemed to look down on her with a vague air of disappointment.
The Battle Mistress seemed shocked into silence.
Someone threw open the door.
"Sheriff!" yelled a summoner, bursting in. "There's trouble!"
"What happened?" she demanded, rising immediately.
The summoner seemed to tremble, gesturing shakily backwards in the direction of the hall. "Cho'gath is loose in the summoner's quarter!"
"The Terror of the Void?" exclaimed Katarina in alarm, rising as well.
"He's on a rampage!"
That stirred them from their previous silence. The sheriff went to work immediately.
"Summoner, evacuate the rest of the Institute," she ordered, pointing at him.
"Y-yes!"
"Nasus and Sivir, take those two and get somewhere safe, I'm not done with them yet." The Curator of the Sands nodded once, gesturing for the group in question to leave. She turned to her partner, putting on her hat. "Vi, I need you to run a message to Jayce."
The Enforcer pushed herself up off the wall, frowning. "Wait, where are you going?"
Caitlyn knelt down, retrieving her rifle from beneath the table and slinging it over her shoulder. "To the summoner's quarter, to contain him."
"No way," said Vi, taking a few steps toward her. "You can't take him on by yourself."
"There's bound to be other champions there already, whoever's left," she replied, waving her off. "It's imperative that you get the word to Jayce, tell him that things have gotten bad here."
"I'm coming with you," her partner insisted, moving closer.
"Absolutely not," she snapped. "You're injured, and Soraka's not on-hand to fix that up for you. You'll only be a liability."
Piltover's Enforcer scowled, reaching out to grab the sheriff by the shoulder.
"Like hell I'll be a liability. Cait, come on."
"No," she answered firmly, shrugging her off as she headed for the door. "Go. Now."
"Cupcake - !" she called out after her, hand extended.
Caitlyn stopped halfway through, turning to shoot her an incredibly exasperated look. Vi faltered, as if wanting to say something and then not.
"...Be careful," she finally said after a moment, shoulders sagging in defeat. Her partner shot her a knowing look, resuming her stride.
"You too."
.
.
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Next Chapter: http://boards.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/c/fancreations/chAsUUTG-fanfiction-fracture-chapter-6