[Fanfiction] Fracture - Chapter 3
PROLOGUE: http://boards.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/c/fancreations/fZAXxjHA-fanfiction-fracture PREVIOUS CHAPTER: http://boards.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/c/fancreations/t7FlpKLO-fanfiction-fracture-chapter-2
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.)
THEORIA
The musty tomes and comforting texture of paper incited in her a wave of nostalgia. It had been a long time since she had breathed the aged air of a library; a long, long time. Leona had never been much of a bookworm, preferring to spend her leisure time in training. When she was still a disciple of the Solari, there had been only one reason she ever went to its huge, expansive archives.
The Radiant Dawn folded the last article with a sigh, as memories of hushed conversations between looming bookshelves, of soft light and simple times appeared before her. Where had the days gone? Those long hours spent simply talking seemed so far away now.
Her research into the League's mysterious respawn system had not yielded much. No details had been released as to the reason behind its conception, let alone how it functioned. The most concrete fact she had found thus far was that its creator was the infamous Machine Herald, Viktor of Zaun. The rest had been scholarly speculation, praise, or criticism. He had unlocked the mysteries of tampering with life and death, of creating immortality, but it seemed he was loathe to enlighten the rest of Runeterra. There were one too many scientific articles in the compilations Nasus had given her that were simply acerbic rants as to the possible consequences of the system. If she thought on it long enough, the Radiant Dawn supposed she could see the far-reaching implications.
The bottom line, however, was that nothing she had discovered was useful to her. Nothing indicated one way or the other the permanence of death in the event of the system's failure, nor did anything detail the fate of those who did indeed perish permanently in spite of a connection to the machine. What was to be of Diana, she could not find out.
It irked her and unsettled her all at once. Leona could understand why the Machine Herald would have kept an iron fist over the details of his research – from what she understood of his history, he was not very keen on losing credit – but the Institute's involvement should have created numerous records of the momentous project. She didn't think they were withholding the information merely out of respect for Viktor's wishes; the Institute was rarely that considerate. No, if there were details being kept secret, the League wanted them hidden.
Why? What secret lay behind the system that the Institute wished to cover up? She didn't know. She didn't know. It was giving her a headache.
Any further spiral into wild speculation was halted by a light knock on her door. Leona shot upright, pushing through the slight vertigo from sitting down so long as she stood.
"Who calls?" she asked, stepping forth.
There was a long pause, and then a timid voice called out, "It's Nami."
That was not a name she was all too familiar with. "The Tidecaller?"
"...Yeah."
"It's open."
The brass knob turned with a click, and in swept the Marai girl. Leona had never spoken to her before, but she had seen her in passing. There was an almost sickly sheen to her today – her scales seemed duller in color than ever before.
"You've heard," she began uneasily as she shut the door behind her, "haven't you?"
So that was what this was about. Leona stood there for a moment, with a countenance of stone before nodding once. "Yes. They say you were with her, when it happened. Will you – can you tell me what happened?"
There was no one better to tell her of the events that transpired than one as directly involved as the Tidecaller. Why she had come to her, the Radiant Dawn did not know, but she would not question providence.
Nami nodded, beginning quietly, "Ashe signaled that Graves was coming up to mid lane, so I – I started running there because I knew she was gonna get ambushed. But I was too late."
Leona swallowed. "She was killed?"
"Not right there, but she took a full buckshot. I tried to heal her, but it wasn't enough. All of us in lane knew it was fatal, but we didn't think anything was wrong until – until she wasn't recalled." The Tidecaller's face screwed up, as if holding in emotion, and her voice wavered with her next words. "They cleared everyone but me away, because I could heal, but I'm not Soraka. I couldn't do it."
"Was she... in pain, when she died?" she asked, hesitantly. She almost didn't want to know.
Nami shook her head, wiping at her face. "Yes. No. I don't know, I don't think so. She wasn't lucid."
"Could she speak?"
"Yeah... Yeah." She nodded, visibly trying to compose herself. "Leona?"
"Yes?" came her tentative response.
"I called on you because... because you need to stop the elders."
The Radiant Dawn was taken aback, frowning. "Pardon?"
"I know you two were rivals, and she was a heretic to the Solari, but – but people say you two were friends, and that you didn't really hate each other, and, and if you don't stop them –"
"Stop," she commanded, halting the Marai in the middle of her rant. "What is going on?"
Nami inhaled tremulously, webbed hands balling into fists. "If you don't stop them, they're going to give her body to the Solari. I heard them – they said they're going to string her up as an example of what happens to heretics."
There was a long, stunned silence.
Leona trudged wordlessly to her cot, sitting down. Nami watched her warily, noted her hands resting on her knees – observed as they slowly gripped, tighter and tighter and tighter. The Radiant Dawn took a long, deep breath.
"I don't think," she said finally, "that there's anything I can do."
"W-what?"
"Diana was a traitor to the Solari," she admitted, with difficulty. "It is the natural fate of a traitor... cruel as it might be. Chosen as I am, I don't know that I have the influence to... stop them."
"You're not... you're not serious," Nami said. Leona only closed her eyes, taking a deep, strained breath. "You can't be serious!"
"Tidecaller, you do not understand – "
"No, you don't understand!" she cut in fiercely. "Leona, she was crying for you."
Her head snapped up, her eyes shot open.
"What?"
The Marai was wiping at her eyes again, shoulders shuddering. "She loved you," she told her, voice choked.
There was a sharp ache blooming in her chest – utterly unlike the tightening pangs from before, but Leona tried to endure it. She was a warrior of Rakkor. She would not cry, she would not.
"She thought I was you," Nami went on. "So I pretended I was, because it just – it just made her seem so happy..."
Leona clamped a hand over her eyes, turning away. She breathed harshly through her nose, trying to focus the pain.
"...What did you say?"
"I told her that... you loved her too. Because it seemed like the right thing to say."
A long, long moment passed between them – almost an eternity of silence and harsh breathing as Leona tried her damnedest to clear the emotions away. After a while, she nodded slowly.
"I see." Her hand left her face, and Nami could see the redness in her eyes. "Thank you."
The Tidecaller stared at her for a second, watching her collect herself. "So then, will you...?"
Leona nodded, again. "There won't be much I can do, but I... can try."
"...Thank you." Nami laughed heavily, regretfully. "She was my friend, you know?"
"I heard you were her only friend," she remarked softly. "I'm grateful someone was."
"Once you got past all the anger, she was a good person on the inside." The Marai smiled wistfully. "And she was exactly who I was looking for."
"Was she?"
"I'll tell you about it some other time. It's a little complicated," she admitted. "But for now, what are you going to do?"
"I intend to stay at the Institute for a little while longer. Just to... wrap up loose ends." Leona heaved a sigh. "From there, I return to Rakkor. And you?"
"I can't go back to my people yet. I haven't found what I'm looking for."
"Will you be at the Institute, then?"
The Radiant Dawn walked slowly back to her desk, collecting the various texts she had borrowed, for return. Nami watched her in silence for a moment, as if her mind dwelt on other matters.
"Yeah, I guess so," she answered at last, smiling mirthlessly. "After all, I've got nowhere else to go."
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Seven years since the High Counselor had disappeared, two years since she had joined the League of Legends, four months since she had last faced Morgana in battle – and one week since the Institute had shut down the Fields of Justice. One week. One week to carry the news forth, one week to carry the sentences out, one week to wait for the so-called Piltover's Finest to give her answers.
Kayle landed softly, folding her wings in. The halls were incredibly empty now that most, champion and summoner alike, had returned home. Had she not been an immortal being utterly accustomed to solitude, the echoing of her footsteps across high-roofed corridors might have summoned in her a kind of loneliness. Nevertheless, she would not be alone for long; she was fast arriving at the door to one of the Institute's many private meeting rooms.
The aforementioned pair that the Counsel had entrusted to look into the incident were there, the Piltover Enforcer lounging with her feet kicked up on the table. It made her want to scoff. How undisciplined. This was why she was the real enforcer for the Institute.
"Miss Kayle," greeted the sheriff evenly, replacing her teacup on her saucer.
"Sheriff Caitlyn," she returned with a nod.
"Hey, Angelface," said the Enforcer, waving a flippant hand at her.
"...Enforcer Vi," she acknowledged with reluctance. The Judicator often regretted ever taking off her helmet in the presence of mortals.
"Let's get started, shall we?" prompted the sheriff, gesturing for her to take a seat.
Kayle nodded, pulling out a chair for herself. "Very well. Review for me your findings. Have you discovered anything definitive?"
"Unfortunately, no," answered Caitlyn. "We've both questioned a number of people, champion and summoner, but nobody has any real answers."
"Just looooots of speculation," added her partner, balancing a mug on the index finger of her gauntlet.
"There are points of interest, however. My interview with the Machine Herald and my own observations of the Respawn Room conclude that the sabotage of the system was indeed intentional."
"Then there is a criminal on the loose," said Kayle, grimly.
The sheriff nodded, taking a sip of her tea. "Indeed, and whoever sabotaged the system wanted more than to disable it for a day. They destroyed its main power source which, according to my sources, could take up to several years to replace."
"Any known motives?"
"Too many, with too much speculation," she sighed. "Until we further investigate the leads we've acquired, I can't say what their motive was."
"Then, suspects?"
"I got one," said Vi. "Or two, maybe. Ahri, the Nine-Tailed Fox, says she saw the Du Couteau sisters acting suspicious around the time it happened. Supposedly, Kitty Kat was pulling her sister along saying something about 'Now or never.' "
"A plot hatched by Noxus, then?" wondered Kayle, warily.
"Possibly," agreed the sheriff. "It is a fact that no one has seen Cassiopeia Du Couteau since the incident – and there are no records of either sister departing the Institute. However... there's something else that bothers me about this whole ordeal."
"Elaborate."
"I was allowed into the Respawn Room, indeed, but I have a feeling there is something being covered up about the system." Caitlyn frowned, swirling the tea in her cup thoughtfully. "Glancing through the records, there are so many details about it omitted. The Machine Herald, himself, was not very open about its operation – only about its structure."
"Think it's something about the system that's the cause of all this?" asked the Enforcer, tossing the mug in the air and then catching it on her pinky.
"It might be something about the system itself, and not necessarily what is opened up by its being disabled that lies at the heart of the matter," explained the sheriff.
Kayle frowned. The Institute had warned her not to let them dig too deeply.
"If you pry into the secrets of the Institute, know that it is my duty to stop you," she warned. "See to it that you don't overstep your boundaries."
"I don't think you'll have to worry about that," murmured the sheriff, looking away.
The Enforcer only hummed idly, fiddling with the mug. Silence filled the small meeting room for a long moment. Caitlyn took a sip from her tea. It was all she could do not to sight - nothing but hearsay brought before her after an entire week's time to investigate. Why had they been entrusted with the duty?
"In the end," said the Judicator in a clipped voice, "you have no real answers for me."
"Just give us a little more time," replied Vi breezily, waving a dismissive hand. "We'll nab the culprit and you can do all the judicating you want, Angelface."
"That is not the proper use of the word," she returned, irked.
"But we do need more time," interrupted Caitlyn, intervening before Kayle's temper could rise. "If you don't mind, Miss Kayle. We've still a few leads to investigate, and a number of people to question. The answer will surely come soon enough."
She leveled a stern gaze at the sheriff, whose stare remained calm even so.
"Please."
Kayle sighed, closing her eyes. "Very well. But I expect answers, Sheriff, or else the Institute will take action itself."
The woman nodded, glaring at her partner who, upon noticing, hastily nodded as well. The Judicator, rose, stretching out her wings as she did so – how she hated to keep them folded for too long.
"I take my leave. Return here for another review in one week's time," she said, tapping a finger on the table. "Until then."
She headed for the door.
"So long, Angelface!"
"Vi, you could at least - !"
Any further scolding was sealed into the room by the sturdy oak of the closing door. Kayle stood silently in the hallway for a moment, listening to the vague sounds of a struggle coming from the room, before shaking her head and moving on. What an odd pair. She only hoped they could do what had been tasked of them – before the Institute took it upon itself to do so.
After all, the Institute had little mind for justice.
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"More tea?"
"Yes – please and thank you!"
"And for Tibbers?"
"Just a lil' bit. He's on a diet."
"And Mr. Zac?"
"Uh... sure, kid. Why not?"
The Secret Weapon shifted uncomfortably in his tiny, plastic seat, watching as the yordle girl poured out his portion from his position hunched over the small play-table. It wasn't actually tea – apparently Caitlyn had given them some earl grey once and Annie had thought it was gross, so they were just using milk in a teapot.
"There you are," said Lulu with a flourish.
It took him prodigious control to grasp the cup's handle between his thumb and index finger without completely smothering it. He smiled, a tad weakly, at her. "Thanks... Say, aren't you going to pour Amumu some?"
"Oh." The Fae Sorceress turned slowly to look at the quivering squirrel in the seat beside her, visage as cold as stone. "I forgot about him."
If he wasn't afraid of accidentally knocking something over with a wayward limb, he might have gone to massage his temples. The mummy was crying again, although you could hardly tell when he was a squirrel. As he'd found out from his semi-reluctant participation in these various tea parties, Lulu loved to bully Amumu around – if only a little bit. Zac could barely remember when he wasn't a squirrel during their parties. He had been turned into a cupcake once, but that had almost led to something unfortunate, so he made Lulu promise never to do it again.
"What about me?" complained Twitch, sitting on his left. "I want some of that too!"
"You're stinky," said Annie, wrinkling her nose at him. "And you always steal the cup."
"Hey now, that's not very nice," he chided.
"Yeah!" the Plague Rat chimed in indignantly.
"And Twitch, buddy, if you want something, you have to ask nicely for it," he scolded, turning towards him. "Having a meal with others is about sharing."
"...What's 'sharing?' " he asked, eyes narrowing. The suspicious little rodent.
"It's not hogging all the muffins!" broke in Lulu irritably, snatching at the several muffins Twitch had grabbed off the plate.
"It's mine!" he yelled, scrabbling for them. "I licked it!"
They could get to be such a handful.
Usually he got dragged into tea parties without Twitch coming along—but things had been a little off-kilter lately, so his usual schedule had gotten pretty mixed up. He tended to keep Twitch close, make sure the little guy wasn't offending too many people accidentally in his daily life, but generally he had afternoons for the others. It was only lately that the rat's favorite hidey-hole—that was, the refuse center—had gotten shut down as part of investigation, so he couldn't occupy himself there like he used to. Seeing as he didn't want him getting into any trouble, he figured maybe it'd be better for Twitch to try making new friends.
Disgusting as he was, he was actually kinda endearing once you got past the filth. He'd evolved from a regular rat, so Zac figured all his oddities were more or less remnants of that. His pack rat tendencies - pun aside - were definitely a layover; the first couple weeks he hung around with Twitch, he would pick up hard candies or stuff like that on the ground and lick them and stick them to his fur. "For safe keeping," he'd said. He ended up getting him the coat custom-made as a gift - the way he filled the pockets was just another means to keep him a little less disgusting.
"Mr. Zac," called Annie, breaking him out of his thoughts. He was glad he was kind of squishy, because he was sure that if he was anyone else, her little legs swinging and kicking him in the shin over and over would've hurt. "Why did all the adults go away?"
"There was a little incident last week, and everybody went home," he told her, trying to drink his milk without accidentally swallowing the cup.
"What incident?" she asked curiously.
Oh man. He didn't really want to tell a little kid somebody died. He didn't think Annie knew Diana, but he couldn't be sure. What if she cried? This was gonna be super awkward – but at least she hadn't asked him about the birds and the bees again.
"One of the Institute's machines broke down and somebody got hurt," Zac offered instead, attempting to be as vague as possible.
"Who?"
"Did you know Diana? They called her the Scorn of the Moon."
"No," chirped the little girl with blissfully ignorant ease. "Is she okay?"
"No," said Lulu. "But she got sent back to the moon, so she should be all right."
He shot the yordle girl a confused glance, but she only arched an eyebrow at him in another one of her moments of odd refinery.
"I heard there's cheese on the moon," whispered Twitch, ears pulled back conspiratorially. By now, he had the pastry plate strapped to his back.
"Maybe moon lady's snacking on cheese then," mused Lulu wonderingly.
"I didn't know you could go to the moon!" cried Annie. "Is that where they send people who get hurt?"
"No, they just sent her there because that's where she'd be okay," answered the Fae Sorceress airily, pouring herself another cup. "You know, if the sun lady had gotten hurt, she'd have gotten sent to the sun. You have to have special qualifications to get to those places."
Was that... a metaphor for the afterlife? He stared at her for a moment, more than a little baffled, but Lulu only reached for another muffin that had, thankfully, been spared by Twitch's raid.
"So, um..." He cleared his throat, trying to pick back up where he left off. "Because that machine broke down, there aren't going to be any League matches until they get it fixed."
"And that's why everybody's going home," huffed Annie, pouting. Zac patted her comfortingly on the head with a careful hand.
"Come to think of it," he mused, "why aren't you at home with your parents?" He knew if he hadn't volunteered to stick around on watch for suspicious characters, he would've gone home to his folks in a heart beat.
"I wanna go home," grumbled Twitch, downing his cup of milk. He was amused to note that he had, indeed, stuck his pinky up after three afternoons' worth of prodding from Lulu.
"Soon, bud," he told him apologetically, giving him a pat on the head as well.
"Mommy and Daddy had to take a trip somewhere," explained the Dark Child, around a mouthful of chocolate chip cookie. Lulu reached over with a proffered handkerchief that Annie accepted gratefully, wiping the crumbs from her face. "They said I should stay with the League until they got home."
"That means you can stay and play with us!" cried Amumu happily, and four heads whipped around to look at him. When had he become yordle again?
"Oh dear," said Lulu, with a hand on her cheek. She reached around for her staff. "You're not supposed to turn back yet, you silly duck."
Pix, who until then had been resting happily on the brim of her hat, took to the air and began circling the poor mummy in a frenzy. Amumu waved his arms around wildly, waterworks already running.
"W-wait!"
"Now hold on there," the Secret Weapon interjected, staying the yordle girl's hand by pressing down on her staff with his finger. "You could at least let him finish his tea."
Her eyes narrowed and for a moment, Zac thought she would polymorph the poor guy anyway, but she lowered her staff, returning to her muffin. Amumu was still crying, but they were probably tears of joy now that Annie was handing him one of the cookies off the stack.
He didn't know how he got dragged into these things, but he guessed he didn't mind so much. Kids were kinda cute, anyhow – assuming Lulu and Amumu still counted as kids by yordle standards, of course, but that was neither here nor there - and taking care of Twitch was basically like taking care of a smelly, over-curious toddler. Things were getting kind of heavy with the Institute, so it was actually kind of nice here, being all carefree with them. Zac smiled, bringing his cup up for a quick sip as he watched Annie fuss over Tibbers. Things would be okay.
And then a scream and a loud crash in the distance cut through the air.
The Secret Weapon sprang to action, pulling himself out of his tiny chair with as much speed as possible without tipping over the entire table on his companions.
"You kiddies stay put!" he yelled, already bounding in the direction of the scream. Zac coughed, pounding at his chest as he went.
So much for not swallowing his teacup.
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Next Chapter: http://boards.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/c/fancreations/q02EB8UI-fracture-chapter-4