[Urgent] Mount Targon Is Lost!

Last night, under the cloak of darkness, The Coward led an attack on Mount Targon. Under normal circumstances an assault on the mountain would be suicide, but most of my fellow Targons were asleep and no one expected an attack. The Coward's terrible machinations blazed a trail of agony and destruction, only stopping briefly to brush off any defenders who tried to impede their progress. Still, Targons are not cowards. After the initial attack the champions of the mountain rallied their followers to defend our home. Truly, as a soldier, I can only describe the champions' battle prowess as a beautiful masterpiece, captivating the very essence of war.

The Sun, bathing her enemies in glorious, revealing, yet searing beams of light. The Moon, fighting alone, effortlessly guiding the foul minions of our oppressor to their last sleep. The Spear, a demon. The few glimpses I had of the man were but flashes quickly followed by the death rattle of yet another victim.

Victory was assured, I thought, despite the presence of the Mech-Lords that were participating in the battle. Battlecast Sting and Hunger had taken what would have been lethal blows from the Spear and Moon if they had actually been living creatures. The Sun was defending the temple of light from Battlecast Prime itself, managing to keep it at bay while her comrades did what they could to attempt to fell the monstrosity. Despite all of this, everything changed when a new Mech-Lord appeared. 

I have never seen anything like it. A great eye, appearing from what seemed to be a portal from nowhere, simply erasing the foes that gathered before it. None could escape, whatever The Eye set its gaze upon was swiftly turned to ash. I am ashamed to say that witnessing this new evil frightened me. I knew that our home would be lost and that I needed to seek aid from, or at least warn, our allies. The last thing I saw before I ran to deliver this message was the champions being captured, a feat requiring the powers of all the Mech-Lords and the vast numbers of the lesser machines.


It has been 2 days since the fall of Targon. I have been hearing a strange noise, oddly, it sounds like something I heard during the battle. I will stay vigilant. I must reach Demacia.

Another 2 days since my last entry. My destination is close, but out of my reach I'm afraid. I remembered where I heard that odd noise. It was the sound that terrible eye made when it exited its portal to begin executing its terrible design. 

The Eye must be following me. I don't know why it would let me live this long. It must have some ulterior motive. I am sure I will not see the end of my journey though, so I'm leaving my writings here. Hopefully someone will find them soon.

-1 Day Later-

“Who's there?!”

“…”

“You've been following me for days, just show yourself! Why have you let me live this long when you could have killed me at any time?!”

“…”

“Answer me, Mech Lord!”

“...There were still things to learn.”

“What do you mean? There isn't anything I could show you that your master couldn't just share with you himself!”

“It matters not. I have learned all I can from you.”

“...What do you me-”

“Thank you for your contribution”

---

Hope you guys enjoyed! In case you're wondering, this story takes place in an alternate (or possible) universe where Viktor, along with his terrible battlecast army, have declared war on the living (resistance and defender skin lines apply). Only Noxus and Demacia have held the mechanical armies at bay, while the smaller city-states were ravaged by battle. Targon had, until this point, been a strategic foothold and bastion of hope for the armies of the non-mechanized. Viktor had failed to have an answer for the champions that resided there, until now. Anyway, I had fun writing this. Enjoy the rest of your evenings everyone!