[Fanfiction] Fracture - Chapter 12

PROLOGUE: http://boards.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/c/fancreations/fZAXxjHA-fanfiction-fracture PREVIOUS CHAPTER: http://boards.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/c/fancreations/WvTdnYHc-fanfiction-fracture-chapter-11

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.)

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KAIROS

This was the end.

He never knew Piltover could get so dark. It was a city of thousands of lights. It never flickered, never stuttered, never slept, ever. It was a hive of technology and progress, and he'd left it for a couple months to do work and now –

Cho'Gath had destroyed most of the power lines.

The Defender of Tomorrow cradled his Mercury Hammer close, leaned his head back against the wall, and breathed. He could feel the rumbling underneath his feet, further evidence of the Voidborns' presence in the city. In the chaos of Cho'Gath's rampage, another tear had opened somehow – more cultists? - and more voidlings started to pour into the streets. The police department was doing what it could, but...

Next to him, Vi shifted slightly. The Enforcer was crouched low and completely banged up. Whatever she'd been doing before the situation had blown up on them hadn't done much for her health. They hadn't had time to take her to a reputable doctor, but she refused to evacuate with the citizens. Typical Vi.

Jayce closed his eyes, and listened to the sound of Heimerdinger's turrets in the distance.

Someone was screaming.

"I thought the civilians were out," she muttered, and he opened his eyes to see her struggling to her feet.

"Whoa, you're not going out there, are you?" he asked, rushing to stand. She wobbled, and he reached out a hand to steady her. "You can hardly walk straight."

"Lantern-jaw," she forced out through gritted teeth, "you've known me long enough to know how many shits I don't give."

"I can check it out by myself. You need to stay here and rest a little," he insisted, pushing her back firmly.

She shrugged him off. "Like hell I'm just going to sit here and do nothing."

"Well you're sure as hell not going to walk out there and get killed," snapped Jayce, eyes narrowing. "You're gonna be more useful in the long run if you sit down. Let me handle it."

"Since when has this shit ever worked?" she growled, pushing past him.

"Vi!"

Sometimes, there really was no stopping her.

The Enforcer trudged out into the open street and he followed after, hammer held ready. It was a moonless sky; there was only light cast by fire, and magic, and blood. He ground a voidling under foot.

"Damn," she whispered underneath her breath, and when he looked around, Jayce could see the bodies that had piled up.

The screaming hadn't stopped.

"One of the residential sectors," he said, pointing down the street. They could see the huge silhouette of the Terror of the Void.

"Why haven't those idiots evacuated?" She started to run.

"It's a slum." Taking off after her, he tossed out an acceleration gate ahead. "Where are all our officers?"

"Better not be fucking dead!"

In the distance, they could see figures running towards them. Civilians, still here. Three days after the first attacks. Air traffic must have backed up so much that they couldn't make it out in time.

"This way!" he called to them, lighting up his Mercury Hammer so they could see. "Get to the academy!"

It was too tiny to house everyone, but the professor and Ziggs and Corki had turned it into a veritable fortress in no time at all. At the very least, they would be safe until extraction.

The ground shook and he stumbled, trying to keep his footing. There was still a scattered crowd of citizens running towards them – how many had been crammed into that slum?

"Please, help!" cried a woman, falling to her knees. He rushed to her, dragging his hammer along in one hand as he tried to haul her upwards with his other. The ground trembled again.

Jayce looked up.

"Fuck!" Vi staggered towards him, gauntlets charging. "How in the hell did he get so huge?"

"There's no way we can take him on," he breathed out, dragging the woman with him back the way they came. "Not just you and me."

His size rivaled a building's.

Cho'Gath leaned down close to peer at them, and by the light of his glowing eyes they could see the gleam of his teeth. The Defender of Tomorrow shoved the woman away.

"Go!" he whispered to her urgently, and she hobbled off, crying.

Standing in a deserted, dilapidated street, he lit up his lightning field. The yellow light flickered off the remains of steel and stone. Vi stood next to him, tensed.

There was a roaring in his ears. A kind of non-sound, a deafening silence. Blood rushing through his skull, adrenaline through his veins. He could feel his heart pumping, and he knew, for now, he was alive.

The Terror of the Void laughed – an almost shrieking, his voice pitching high.

"Who will be eaten first?" he rumbled, lips pulled back in a wide sneer. He lunged

Jayce breathed.

There was a great light.

Blinding, burning, piercing light – day by night, the sun rising in the midnight sky.

Instinctively a hand flew to his face, covering his eyes. Jayce stumbled backwards a few steps as the ground rocked beneath them. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could hear Cho'Gath screeching. He blinked once, twice, trying to clear the spots from his vision. Someone pulled him backwards.

"Are you two all right?"

He knew that voice – imperious and strong and kind all at once.

When he opened his eyes, he saw the sun.

"Leona...!" coughed Vi, next to him. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I will explain later. Retreat at once!" She lowered her shield, pulling out in front of them. "I will protect you."

"We can still fight!" he protested, lifting his hammer. "You can't take Cho'Gath on alone."

"I'm not alone," she replied calmly. The Terror of the Void roared. He whirled around to see the Artisan of War driving his spear into the Voidborn's gut.

"Pantheon!" he exclaimed, eyes widening.

"Sorry we came so late!" someone called from above. "Air traffic was really bad!"

He sucked in a sharp breath. Lux, and her brother Garen – the Crowngaurd siblings roping down into their city. How had they not heard the airship pulling in?

"Now is not the time for chatter!" warned Leona, flashing her zenith blade and blinking in towards Cho'Gath.

"Right!" cried Lux, staff charging with light as she grounded.

He was almost dizzy with relief, it was difficult to stand. It wasn't the end. It wasn't. They stood a chance. There were other champions here. He was so dazed, he barely noticed Garen leaping to the ground, dragging the rope with him. The Might of Demacia started to fasten it around his waist.

"W-wait, what are you...?"

He had already moved onto Vi – who was resisting, naturally.

"We are evacuating you two. You're both wounded, and in no condition to fight."

"I'm in total condition to fight!" he protested, hands flying to the makeshift harness.

Too late. The world tilted, and suddenly he was jerked into the air, Mercury Hammer slipping from his grasp.

"Bastard, let me - !" He could hear her struggling, and the Defender of Tomorrow clung tight to his line.

Piltover looked so strange from the sky – how come he had never noticed? Rings and rings of black, smoking sectors. Delineated walls broken and wrecked, debris spilling into one section from the next.

Maybe it was the air thinning; he didn't quite feel like himself anymore.

"What's happening...?" he mumbled, just barely noticing his hammer being drawn up above him.

He could see them fighting from where he was. They were little specks compared to Cho'Gath's murky form. Were they really going to be okay?

Jayce coughed, covering his face with a dirty sleeve. That was right. All the smoke in the air. It was so hard to breathe. Or maybe he was just tired? He didn't – he didn't know...?

By the time they hauled him onto the deck, Jayce had passed out.

.

.

.

Malzahar was not in Piltover.

This was what Kassadin had realized the moment Cho'Gath had been sighted. Someone as cunning as he would not have revealed his hand in one fell swoop by sending the most visible of his forces to take his objective. No, Piltover was, at best, a stepping stone – at worst, it was a distraction.

Three days ago, the Kinkou Order had received him by airship, when he was returning from Shurima through Mogron Pass. He had not found the Prophet of the Void in Icathia, long as it took him to reach the damnable place. Malzahar had not been there and that was terrifying.

The weakest barrier between Runeterra and the Void had to have been at Icathia; anywhere else was unthinkable. Yet, the Prophet was not there. In his brief search, he had found nothing. Malzahar sought to open the Void, that was not in question, but if not in Icathia, then where?

The Void Walker crossed his arms, closed his eyes, and listened.

The Prophet had been sighted by the sea.

His subordinates had relayed the information to him via messenger pigeon, scattered as they were across Valoran. He had been spotted traveling along the coast, in the direction of Piltover, or perhaps Zaun. There was no concrete data as yet.

Somehow, though, Kassadin knew.

The sounds of the ocean were dissonantly calming against the gleam of red tides in the rising sun. Their color was not of sun-rays, but blood. The rotting carcasses of fish littered the sand.

"What's happening?"

Behind him stood the Tidecaller. Her voice was shaky, fearful. It shouldn't have surprised him – she was still so young. The girl had been peering over the sea when he had arrived. Maybe she had been returning to her people – he didn't know. It was too late now.

He took a deep breath and turned around.

There stood the Prophet, instead.

"What you are witnessing," he rasped, "is the day of reckoning."

"Malzahar," he greeted impassively. After so long, he could no longer summon surprise.

"I'm impressed, Void Walker," the Prophet said, drifting around him. The tips of his shoes only just grazed the surface of the sand. "That you would anticipate my coming here is of seer-worthy foresight."

Kassadin open and closed his hand slowly, averting his gaze from Malzahar's bright eyes. He could feel the dark energy pulsating in his palm. "A lucky guess, as it were."

"Why are you here?" asked the Tidecaller, and he could see her over Malzahar's shoulder, hands wringing about her staff nervously.

The Prophet turned, very slightly, to glance at her.

"The day of reckoning," he repeated, and he returned his gaze to the sea. The waters were bubbling.

Kassadin wasted no time.

He lunged, nether blade in hand. One clean slash to the throat. Just one slash, and it would be done. Malzahar whirled around, smoothly sidestepping him.

"This is the true tear to the Void, isn't it?" demanded the Void Walker. He reared back, tensed for another attack. "Not Icathia."

"Never Icathia," laughed the Prophet, alighting on the sand. He stood with his arms open - beckoning Kassadin to try again.

The Void Walker took a deep breath - and lunged a second time.

Malzahar twisted around the blade, weaving past his every strike until he took to the air again and floated backwards.

It was damnable. The area was deficit of energy; there was nothing he could draw from to focus into a pulse that might slow him, and the Prophet knew this - had likely predicted it - and that realization was a slow-burning frustration that was turning rapidly into a roaring fire. Beneath his helmet, he gritted his teeth.

Just one slash, and it would be done.

There was a shift in self, sense, and time. They were nose to nose, shoulder to shoulder - he drew up his hand, a nether blade forming in his palm.

His throat was so exposed.

Malzahar leaned forward, eyes aflame.

Below him, Kassadin thought he could see the Void. Then, there was darkness.

In his mind's eye, he saw everything that he ever was, and would ever be.

A man before the Void Walker, a husband before a mage, a father, above all else. Death and decay and destruction. Obsession, all-consuming. The search. The hunt. Sleepless nights and soulless days. A fated encounter in an abandoned city – and so it was that he died. Dark energy, swirling, amassing. Screeching, roaring, deafening silence. The emptiness of an utter abyss. Someone dear, torn away. A scream.

"Papa!"

Did he want to die, or was he already dead?

Kassadin could feel his breath growing thick and heavy in his lungs – the air going cold and settling at the bottom of his chest. His life - draining away. His soul - fading.

The ocean roared. There was a sound like thunder. He was bowled over suddenly, drenched.

"Are you okay?" someone cried.

Once more, there was light.

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Next Chapter: http://boards.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/c/fancreations/vHu623va-fanfiction-fracture-chapter-13