Short story for a character concept (Reinna, the Matter Puppeteer)

Link to character kit:

 Tirius Wrynn, fugitive of the law, stood on the outskirts of Zaun. He had been lucky to make it this far. Few cross the Noxian High Council and live to tell about it, much less those who manage to steal a relic of extreme power. He looked down in his hand. The bright blue orb, encased in gold lining, exuded a quiet glow. He put it back in the hidden pocket in his cloak, and took one look back. No doubt agents had been spread throughout the countryside by now. Trying to get to Demacia through the usual paths would be suicide. His only bet was to take a long, convoluted route to Piltover, where a contact had secured him an airship to Demacia. 

 After about an hour, as he entered deeper into the city, aged and dilapidated buildings rising around him, he came to a small crossing. There, under an iridescent street lantern, stood a small child. The first sign of human life so far. The bright greet of the lantern cast an odd glow on her white dress and her innocent, silver eyes. She was looking at him. She had such an odd, knowing smile. She ran up to him. “Hello sir! My name is Rienna! I am to be your guide through Zaun!” Tirius looked down at her. He had not expected a guide through Zaun. As a matter of fact, he had been informed it would be far too risky. And now a child is claiming to be his guide? It was far more likely this was a trick the girl played on newcomers, hoping for some coin as a reward. “I’m sorry child, but I don’t need your help. The sooner I get out of this place, the better.” He continued on, but the child persisted. “But sir! Zaun is extremely hard to get through without a guide! And I would really like to help, and and…” He turned, and put his hand on her head. “I’m sorry, but no.” She looked past him, her pupils growing, and looked down, tearing up, and touched her hand against his chest. Then turning, began to run into the depths of the city. A light blue glowed out of her hand. Trion felt his cloak, “how did she..” He yelled at her to stop, and rushed after her. The Chase lasted for what seemed like years. Zaun rushed past him. She led him from back alley to back alley. As he got into the center of the city, the chase continued up to an old, tall, ruined building. Story after story, until at last reaching the roof, the child ran to the edge of the building, and looked down. Tirius stomped up to her and put out his hand. She smiled, and handed him the orb. Looking down again, she pointed. There, in the square below, on either side of the main street, hidden in the shadows, stood four dark cloaked figures, with a signature red band around their shoulders. This was the road he had been walking down. The child had saved him. She signaled him to follow, and led him down into the alleys again. 

 After a good while, they reached another junction. The buildings around here were practically destroyed, with only a few ruins marking where there had once been buildings. In the distance, visible above the rest of Zaun, a clocktower chimed. They walked a few feet, and suddenly, There was a guttural *thunk* right next to Tirius’ head. Turning, there to his horror he saw a hextech round, still glowing green with its caustic contents, suspended about six inches from his head. It was impaled on a long, black, impossibly thin spike. The child turned, muttering “airship”. Sure enough, the very bottom of an airship, previously concealed by the deep green smog, crept into view. The child pushed him. “Run”. They ran, small impacts, followed by the hiss of dissolving steel and stone, struck around them. Several rounds would have found their mark, but all stopped short, Tirius didn’t look to find out how. Finally, they entered into a group of dense buildings. The child walked forward. “stay behind me” As they walked into the center of the square, a mob of men surrounded them, blocking off each road. A thickly built, disheveled man in a pompous overcoat walked out of the mob, “That’s as far as you’ll go. The BOTH of you.” He cast a toxic glance at the girl. Rienna simply gave an innocent smile. “why Dr. Busch, how nice to see you today!” He glared at her, but turned his gaze to Tirius. “Noxus offers large bounties on certain people, Tirius, and yours is easily double that of any other.” Rienna pooched her lips. “Dr. Busch! Mr. Tirius is under my protection! I need to get him out of Zaun!” In a show of childish bravado, she held both arms out to the sides “you’ll have to go through me!” A shimmer in a pompous sleeve. A yell, too late, from the mouth of a criminal. A shot. A bone-crunching thud, as the child’s head, now twisted at an unnatural angle, hit the ground. Blood pooled from the child, staining her once white dress a dreadful crimson. “Oh I plan on it. I have had quite enough of you. This would be the fifth quarry you have stolen from me. And as for you, Tirius, why don’t you just come nice and quiet.” There was no chance of that. Death at the hands of a bounty hunter would be a vast improvement over whatever the High Council had in store for him. He readied himself for one final, desperate conflict. Busch Smiled and shrugged “luckily you’re worth just as much dead…” He grinned “boys!  Have some fun.” They began to close in, one at a time, all wielding horrifying, hooked blades. Tirius pulled a rune-bound sword from its hidden sheath, closed his eyes, and breathed in. He didn’t plan on dying here. But if he was going to die, they weren’t going to leave unscathed. He took the orb out of his pocket. He began to slip it into the groove on the hilt. As he did, the weapon began to vibrate. He could feel the raw power. Soon, the sword would extend, its inside conductors sending out a binding blue light. Then, he would strike. A shot. Sharp pain. The orb spun away into the darkness, its blue light lost in the shadows. The vibrations ceased, and the sword returned to its normal, seemingly mundane state. “I was warned you might try pulling something like that” Busch sneered. So. This was it. The men were almost upon them. They were clearly enjoying themselves, savoring the strike which would end him. Tirius gripped the blade tightly, and after a moment, rushed them. He reached the first man within moments and made a mighty swing. The man dodged deftly, and two others rushed forward, swinging and knocking Tirius off balance. The first man grinned, and twisting the hooked blade, sent Tirius’ sword flying before delivering a mighty punch to his Jaw. Tirius sprawled to the ground. Through the haze, he could see the man over him, readying the final blow which would end him. Tirius’ gaze sharpened. He would meet his death head on. 

 The thugs drew back his hand, but stopped. Suddenly, he screamed in pain. Black spikes exploded out of his torso. The man began to rise into the air, screaming and flailing, held by a long, thin, black tendril. The other men turned to flee, but similar tentacles shot from the ground, dragging them into the air. The child shuddered. Her body began to rise, as a puppet is lifted by its strings. Unnatural, and contorted. Bursch, who up to this point had been dumbstruck by horror, cursed, and unleashed a volley into the child. Bone crunched and sinew tore under the assault, until a perfect hole a fist’s width wide was torn into her chest. The girl raised her head.  Her eyes glowed a pure, brilliant violet. “Vurio Bursch, you who would destroy innocence. You who would reap the helpless. This is your final warning. Turn from your path, or die. Black tendrils erupted from underneath the child. The child was lost to the swirling mass, but the violet eyes remained, visible through the violent maelstrom. The eyes shifted, merging together and expanding. They formed one large, perfectly Violet orb. The mass shifted, twisting and contorting, taking a vaguely human shape. Spikes grew, tendrils swarmed and formed sharp, Jagged limbs. Throughout Zaun, there was heard a piercing, droning, unearthly, screech.

Zaun awoke the next day to a startling sight. Fifty men, hanging from the Institute of Zaun. Very alive. Their clothing was torn to shreds, but they bore no visible injuries. However, each bore one large, dark grey scar, straight across their middles. To the onlooker it would seem as if they had been bisected, before being sewn back together perfectly by the world’s best surgeon, not one cell left out of place.