[Fanfiction] Fracture - Chapter 15

PROLOGUE: http://boards.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/c/fancreations/fZAXxjHA-fanfiction-fracture PREVIOUS CHAPTER: http://boards.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/c/fancreations/IjTAalEA-fanfiction-fracture-chapter-14

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.)

WARNING: This chapter is one of the primary reasons this story is listed as M on ff.net. Graphic violence below.

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DESOLATION

The sound the Machine Herald's communication device made when it severed the link between it and his so-called "CG01-PRIME" struck a strange chord of finality within her. She hoped that Nami would be all right.

"This map marks an area near the Zaunite region of the Ironspike," muttered the scientist, staring down at the scrap of paper stretched on the table before him.

Leona traced it lightly with one ungloved hand. "It's not marked either. Zaun, that is. This map must be very old."

Footsteps rattled down the hall leading to the cockpit. Akali leaned in the doorway, arms crossed. She must have purposely exaggerated her steps to notify them of her coming.

"The pilot says that hovering low enough to pick up the Tidecaller while still on the mountain range will be impossible," she told them simply.

"Then we can meet her at the location. My creation will escort her the rest of the way; it can even carry her there, if need be," replied the Machine Herald, with a wave of his hand.

"And she will be safe?" asked Leona, frowning.

She knew the mountain range well, even if she had spent the majority of her life within the village. Life there was harsh for a reason – vicious creatures, often starved, populated the area. Nami might have been strong, but she was young, lost, and more than likely fatigued.

"I assure you that my Battlecast series far exceeds any organic creature alive," he answered, voice only vaguely cross. The Radiant Dawn had the sneaking suspicion that he was a little affronted by her question. "Of this world or otherwise."

"Assuming that to be true, it concerns me as to why you created them..." muttered the Fist of Shadow. She eyed him warily, mask concealing all other emotion.

"We can concern ourselves with his motives later," broke in the Sheriff of Piltover from the other side of the table. In all honesty, Leona had forgotten she was there. "What's important is what we're going to do now."

She looked at the Machine Herald, and it seemed to her that the two of them had shared some kind of significant glance when Akali began to speak.

"A consensus has been reached that this 'moonstone' is of importance to our situation. Therefore, Shen has advised we rendezvous with the Tidecaller at the location marked by the map and send the Artisan of War and the Radiant Dawn with her to retrieve it – assuming it is there."

The chosen of the sun nodded as the sound of the Machine Herald's rapid typing filled the room. That made sense; she and Pantheon were the most familiar with mountains, and the Solari had had direct relevance to the Lunari at one point. They were the best suited to assist Nami in the search. There was one thing that did bother her, however.

"How will she know where to go?"

"I've transmitted the approximate coordinates to PRIME," said Viktor, tapping out his last orders on the communication device. "It will take her there." "So that's one thing taken care of," remarked the sheriff, crossing her arms. "But where does that leave the rest of us?"

"Well, the moonstone aside, there are two places we need to be: Piltover, and the bay nearby," supplied Akali.

"Three, in fact," interrupted the Machine Herald.

The Fist of Shadow glanced sharply at him. "The third being?"

"I need to be at the Institute," he replied plainly.

The Institute of War, last they had seen it, was a smoking ruin. What could he possibly want with it?

As if reading their minds, the scientist added, "There is something there I must do."

"You realize that the Institute is comparatively out of the way in regards to our other destinations?" asked Akali cuttingly. From her periphery, Leona could see her eyes narrow almost imperceptibly. "We cannot afford to waste time on a detour with Piltover – and perhaps all of Runeterra – at stake."

"Piltover is a lost cause," replied the Machine Herald matter-of-factly. Though she could not see it through his mask, the Radiant Dawn assumed the slight turn of his head was to glance at the sheriff, for he added curtly, "If you'll pardon my saying. The bay should be your focus, but even so, the Institute will not be that far from our first destination."

"But that doesn't explain why we should invest the time to take you there. How do we know you aren't simply pushing a Zaunite agenda by convincing us to abandon Piltover?" pressed the Fist of Shadow. "What do you hope to gain from the Institute?"

A moment of silence passed. All eyes were on the Machine Herald, unreadable as ever.

"From the Institute," he said at last, fingers lacing together on the tabletop such that the light glinted off his mechanical knuckles, "I hope to acquire..."

He paused, as if trying to find the right words to say.

"...the ultimate solution to the situation we find ourselves in."

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"What do you mean, 'inhuman?' " She took a step forward, a hand going to one of her many knives. "What's happening to my sister?"

The Chain Warden watched her wordlessly, his mouth stretched into that infuriatingly eternal smirk. She had always hated Thresh, in spite of his proclaimed desire to aid. His preference for supporting others in matches had always seemed more like a ruse than anything to her. Now Katarina knew she was correct.

Without even looking at him, the specter finally tore the hook from Renekton's shoulder. The Butcher groaned, collapsing to the ground. A huge hole had been torn in the stretch between his shoulder and neck – the flesh was shredded and the blood ran rivers down his scales. It made her almost want to flinch. Poor beast. Nasus ran immediately to him, and for a moment Katarina thought he would spring right back up to try and kill him, but Renekton only gasped at the ground. He seemed in incredible agony.

"Thresh." It was Sivir, boomerang-blade in hand. Her face was stern – if the Sinister Blade remembered correctly, she had been on the Chain Warden's team more than enough times to have a little history. "Answer the question."

He laughed softly – harshly - with that derisive, acerbic edge to it that he so often had. The one that told people he was laughing at them, rather than with them.

"Why don't you wait," he whispered, "and see?"

Cassiopeia was slithering further into the room now. The keen way the specter watched her made Katarina's blood run cold. Whatever he saw... If it piqued Thresh's interest, it couldn't be good. For a moment, she thought Cass was coming to her – but then she slipped right past her, coiling herself at Renekton's knees. There was a strange tang on her tongue – it tasted of bitterness.

Something sharp whistled past.

Katarina whirled around to see the Battle Mistress's boomerang-blade hurling right for Thresh. The Chain Warden didn't even flinch – simply letting it clip the back of his collar as it passed through the empty space where his neck should've been, swinging back around into Sivir's hands.

"Thresh, if you don't give us answers right now," she growled, catching the blade handily, "the next one won't miss."

"Ah, but it is not I who has the answers," he replied, slowly beginning to back into the shadows of the room he had come from.

"Then who does?" the mercenary snapped.

There was a metallic clank. The chamber lit up with green light.

"I can take you to them," came Thresh's voice, sounding eerily like an echo from the depths of the room beyond as he disappeared from view. "But only if you grab the lantern..."

"Oh shit," groaned Sivir, a hand covering her eyes. From the faintest reverberations, they could hear the sound of the specter's mocking laughter. "Not this."

"Do we take it?" she asked, glancing between Nasus fussing over Renekton, and the Battle Mistress.

Thresh being in Shurima was suspicious already – but being able to bring them to someone who had all the answers? It was probably too good to be true. The risky factor was taking the lantern. She hadn't had as much experience as Sivir had in working with him, but Katarina knew how it worked. Being reeled into the Chain Warden, though it had been a saving grace before, seemed more like a death sentence at the moment. Who knew whether or not the lantern wasn't pulling them into certain doom? "It's not like we have many other options..." muttered the mercenary, visibly gritting her teeth. This was the first time she'd ever looked so conflicted. "Everything else up to this point has been a dead end, otherwise."

"Then the question now is," she realized aloud, "who grabs it."

It was a one-way ticket for one person. So who would bite the bullet and go?

"There is something strange about Renekton," came Nasus's voice, breaking in on their conversation. He sounded troubled. "He has been weakened."

The Sinister Blade glanced over, to where the Butcher knelt panting at the ground. His brother had fixed a bandage around the gash cut open by the Chain Warden's hook, though it was sloppy. Probably because Renekton seemed to refuse to move and he'd had an awkward angle to work with. Renekton himself looked incredibly pale – drained for someone who usually had enough rage to shrug off a sword through his stomach. The cut was deep, but it was still only a flesh wound. This wasn't like him at all.

"Bastard must've done something to him," muttered Katarina, grimacing. "He was never able to keep people on his chain like that during matches." "Poison?" suggested Nasus warily, beginning to stand.

The Noxian assassin could see the blood trickling down his side and almost winced. As if he noticed, the Curator pressed a hand to his wound like it was an after-thought, though she could've sworn she saw the Battle Mistress glaring at him out of the corner of her eye. In lighter circumstances she might've been amused. They were a strange pair.

"I doubt it," answered Sivir at length, with a scowl. "With Thresh, nothing is ever that simple." "Well, we're not going to figure anything out just standing here," sighed Katarina. "The question still stands. Who's grabbing it? If we don't hurry, he might just pull it back."

Silence fell over them at that – only the sound of Renekton's heavy breathing echoed in the chamber.

Nasus started, "It might be best if I – "

"I'll go," broke in the Battle Mistress. Her expression was stern, as if she didn't want any argument about it. "I'm not wounded and I don't have a sibling I need to look after. So I'll go."

"Are you being... selfless?" asked Katarina, a little disbelievingly. This was not the money-hoarding, cut-throat, me-myself-and-I mercenary she recalled from before.

"Maybe," was the nonchalant reply. She glanced away.

The Noxian assassin crossed her arms, rearing back on one foot. "I thought this was all business. Didn't know you cared."

The mercenary had already started walking when she turned back to look at them.

"Hey," said Sivir, smiling a little wryly, "we all gotta try it sometime."

She seized the lantern.

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Perhaps she was dead.

Kayle had always thought that there would be something better waiting for her at the end of her long, long life – should it ever come. Maybe she was wrong; maybe this was all there was to the afterlife. An eon's lifetime of crusading for order and justice, and this was how she ended up.

Perhaps it was fitting – what kind of paradise could there be for her if she was already an "angel?"

Everything felt humid. Festering. It was dark, and there was something foul in the air. She could see grains in her vision in the shadows. The only light was the soft purple glow of something above, and she turned her head stiffly to look.

A bright slit, a wide eye – its intensity blinded her the same way it entranced her - giant and grotesque and otherworldly all the same. There was a low hum. Something cold lifted her arm and she gasped, feeling the skin behind her shoulder stretch sore and sharp.

"Specimen is damaged," droned the voice, machine-like and dispassionate. Her arm was lifted further and Kayle thought she could feel something around her shoulder blade begin to tear as she was turned on her side. "Endoskeleton appears unique. Previously unseen bone structure protruding from back."

"Monster," she growled, through clenched teeth, "cease and desist...!"

There was a beat of silence. Slowly, her arm was put down.

"Hm... Extraordinary." The light swung around and left her in darkness. Though her senses were still dulled by pain, she could hear the faint sounds of clattering, a shuffling of tools. "To date, none have survived preliminary testing. Perhaps you will be different."

A flash of light – and then, pain.

The Judicator stuffed down a cry as something jolted through the exposed bone where her wings once were. It prickled painfully, and she bit her own tongue in an effort not to gag as the smell of burning flesh filled the air on top of whatever putrid odor already existed.

"You...! I am going to end you...!" she gasped, clawing at the smooth surface of whatever she was lying on.

Her nails sunk in and raked across, some running ragged as they split and her fingers became slippery as the tips began to bleed. Something long and cold encircled the bone stubs and Kayle shuddered, fighting the urge to retch.

It yanked.

Her vision flashed white. She bit into her tongue so hard she could feel her teeth sinking in, the metallic tang starting to fill her mouth as a shrill shriek died in her throat. The Judicator convulsed, curling into herself in an effort not to thrash and exacerbate the creature's hold. Kayle shut her eyes tight, and tried to focus on her breathing. On the very edges of her consciousness, she could hear its low hum.

"Fascinating. High pain threshold in comparison to previous subjects." There was a pause, filled only by the sound of her harsh breaths. "Highly symmetrical bone structure... perhaps if bisected, this subject will grow back?"

"Touch me again and you will burn," she hissed, embracing herself with throbbing hands and stinging fingers as she tried desperately to make herself smaller. The warning was empty, but she would rather make vain threats than throw away her dignity and beg for mercy. The creature hummed again.

"Intriguing reaction to pain," it remarked, before coiling its appendages around her shoulders.

The Judicator cried out as it pulled her off her side and onto her back, the exposed bones clicking against the hard surface nauseatingly. She tried to open her eyes through the pain, squinting up at the bright, violet shine of its monstrous eye as it stared indifferently down at her.

"I do not expect you to survive," it told her. The pupil began to glow brightly and she sucked in a sharp breath. "We shall see."

Her heart began to beat – painfully, palpitating as if it would leap out of her chest – and Kayle began to struggle. The appendages shot out, grasping and pinning her arms down roughly. She thrashed, ignoring the spine-wrenching pain blooming in her back.

"I shall say this preemptively, just in case." The slitted pupil was blindingly bright now. The Judicator pulled one arm free as her hand burned with reckoning. "Thank you for your contribution."

Kayle lunged.

There was a blinding light.

Was that the sound of her screaming?

She had gone straight for the eye with her free hand, and it felt like her fingers had been blasted apart, her bones disintegrated, her skin aflame. The only thing she could feel was a great fire in the palm of her hand and there was a terrible, gargled sound that pitched high into a kind of gurgling shriek. She couldn't feel her finger tips – only the fleshy, sticky sensation at the base of her fingers as they sunk into something that fell away like a wet sheathe.

The light stopped.

There was the sound of something crashing to the ground. The stench of burnt flesh assaulted her senses again, and this time the Judicator did retch. Somewhere in the distance, something creaked – like a door, opening – and a sliver of light passed into the room and she could just barely see the counter she'd been set upon.

She caught a glimpse of her hand. The fingers were mangled – some, missing – and her palm was nearly separated into two sections. There was no blood – everything was perfectly cauterized. Kayle cradled it close, and shuddered.

Someone entered the room. Quiet steps, slowly approaching.

She tried to turn and look, but she could only manage a few stuttering movements of her head, collapsing back against the table with a groan. Her vision was fast fading, fingers twitching as she tried desperately to regain her strength.

"Have you felt it?" someone asked. Their voice was soft, low – almost a whisper – and it reminded her of something long, long ago. "My pain?"

She moved her lips, tried to form words, but she could summon no sound. Cool fingers brushed her hair from her eyes.

Her world turned to darkness.

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Next Chapter: http://boards.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/c/fancreations/nMqzdOu2-fanfiction-fracture-chapter-16