Maiden of Light
The battlefield was chaos, a cacophony of roars, clashing steel, and crackling magic. Warwick charged forward, his claws gleaming under the light of the moon. His growls echoed through the air, feral and unrelenting, as he lunged straight at Vi and Powder.
But just as Warwick’s claws nearly reached them, a massive, striped figure leaped into his path, intercepting him with a bone-rattling crash. It was Rengar, his gleaming blades drawn and his fanged maw curled into a fierce snarl. The impact sent a shockwave through the ground, shaking debris loose from the nearby ruins.
Rengar’s single eye burned with intensity as he bared his teeth at the hulking beast before him. “We meet again,” he growled, his voice low and filled with menace. His grip tightened on his blades as he crouched, ready to strike. “Let’s finish this.”
Warwick roared, swiping at Rengar with feral speed and strength. The hunter dodged and countered, his precision honed from years of tracking prey. The two beasts clashed, a savage dance of claws, teeth, and raw power. Warwick’s movements were primal, driven by instinct, while Rengar’s were calculated, every strike meant to exploit a weakness.
“Stay back!” Rengar roared at Vi and Powder, not taking his eyes off Warwick.
But Warwick was relentless. His shimmer-enhanced body healed almost instantly with every wound Rengar managed to inflict, and his speed and strength were unmatched. Slowly, Warwick began to overpower the hunter. Rengar’s breathing grew labored, his strikes slower, while Warwick’s relentless attacks became more feral, more savage. The hunter’s armor was dented, blood staining his fur as Warwick’s claws ripped through.
Seeing their ally faltering, Caitlyn and Garen rushed to his aid. Caitlyn fired precise shots from her rifle, the hex-infused rounds slowing Warwick down, while Garen charged with his massive blade, landing powerful, sweeping strikes against the beast. Together, they pushed Warwick back, giving Rengar a chance to recover.
But Warwick wouldn’t stop. His roars grew louder, his claws carving deep into the earth as he surged forward again. It was a battle of survival—feral instinct against desperate unity. Rengar, battered but unbroken, stood once again, his resolve burning in his lone eye. “You think you can defeat me, beast?” he growled, his voice thick with determination. “You’ve never hunted a lion.”
As the brutal fight raged on, Vi and Powder turned toward the center of the battlefield, their attention drawn to Swain’s towering figure as Jarvan IV, clad in his petricite-embedded armor, engaged the Noxian Grand General. Swain’s dark magic clashed against Jarvan’s strikes, the petricite infused armor glimmering with the power to counter his sorcery.
“Jarvan needs us!” Vi shouted, grabbing Powder by the arm and dragging her forward. But their path was blocked as Darius, his axe resting casually on his shoulder, stepped into view. His smirk was as sharp as the blade he carried.
“Going somewhere, little girls?” he taunted, the battlefield almost quieting as the tension in the air thickened. “You’ll have to get through me first.”
Without hesitation, Vi charged at Darius, her hex gauntlets crackling to life. Powder followed close behind, her hands gripping her weapon tightly. Darius met Vi’s punch with a crushing swing of his axe, the clash sending shockwaves through the air. Powder darted around, firing precise shots at Darius’s exposed angles, forcing him to divide his attention.
Darius was a juggernaut, his every strike meant to devastate. But Vi and Powder worked together, dodging his blows and countering with their own. For a moment, it seemed they might overwhelm him. Blood trickled from a cut on his brow, but his grin never wavered.
As the tide turned against the Noxians, Darius let out a low chuckle. “You fight well. Better than I expected,” he said, wiping the blood from his face. “But this battle isn’t over.”
Before Vi could respond, Darius reached into his belt, pulling out a flare gun. He fired it into the sky, the red light blazing above the battlefield like a second moon.
Darius grinned, his voice dripping with confidence. “You’ve done well to survive this long. But now, you face the might of Noxus.”
The defenders paused, their hearts pounding as the sky above the battlefield seemed to shift. From the towering Noxian ships docked at the harbor, thick, black smoke began to billow out from massive chimneys atop the vessels. The smoke rose like a living, malevolent force, curling and coiling against the faint light of the moon and stars.
At first, it was subtle, the edges of the battlefield dimming slightly, but soon the smoke spread at an alarming speed, blotting out the heavens entirely. The moon, once a grim sentinel over the chaos, vanished beneath the oppressive veil, plunging the world into an unnatural twilight.
The defenders exchanged uneasy glances, gripping their weapons tightly as the air grew heavier with each passing moment. The smoke was thick and acrid, stinging their eyes and filling their lungs with the choking taste of ash.
Then came the sound—the deep groaning of metal grinding against metal, as the massive doors of the Noxian ships began to creak open. The sound was slow and deliberate, each movement sending vibrations through the ground as if the ships themselves were awakening.
As the doors fully opened, an unnatural gust of wind roared out from within the ships, sweeping across the battlefield. It was freezing and violent, tearing through flames and extinguishing torches and fires alike. In an instant, the battlefield was plunged into pitch blackness.
For a moment, there was silence, the kind that made every defender feel the weight of their own heartbeat. And then, the darkness came alive.
Heavy, thunderous footsteps reverberated through the ground. They were deliberate, slow at first, but the sound of multiple creatures moving together sent chills through the defenders. The first beast emerged from the gaping maw of the ship—a hulking, elephant-sized silhouette, its armor gleaming faintly even in the near-total darkness.
The creature’s breath came in heavy snorts, the sound of air forced through metallic plates. Behind it, more followed, each step shaking the earth, their riders perched high on their backs, visible only by the faint glints of their weapons.
The battlefield had become a nightmare. The defenders could hear the beasts but not see them, their heavy footfalls growing closer, their riders' commands echoing in guttural Noxian. The defenders gripped their weapons tighter, their breaths shallow and panicked.
The Noxians had brought more than soldiers. They had unleashed the shadows of war themselves.
The battlefield was chaos, a swirling nightmare of shadows and confusion. The defenders were struggling, their formations crumbling as the Noxian beasts tore through their ranks with devastating force. The thick, oppressive darkness made it impossible to tell friend from foe, and panicked shouts filled the air as allies accidentally clashed with one another.
Vi, Powder, Caitlyn, Ekko, Jarvan, and Garen found themselves huddled close, desperately trying to protect one another. Vi’s gauntlets flared as she struck at the beasts blindly, her strikes sometimes hitting nothing but air.
“Where are they coming from?” Caitlyn shouted, her rifle useless in the darkness as she strained to make out anything beyond the chaos.
Ekko, his hoverboard hovering erratically, swung his pipe at a shadowy figure only to realize, to his horror, that it was one of their own soldiers. “We’re hitting each other! This isn’t working!”
Jarvan and Garen were no better off. Jarvan’s petricite blade glinted faintly in the dim light as he shouted orders, but his voice was drowned out by the cacophony. Garen swung his sword wildly, trying to fend off a charging beast, only to be thrown back, his armor dented and bloodied.
“This darkness… It’s suffocating!” Vi yelled, her voice strained with frustration as another one of the beasts charged toward them. She barely managed to pull Powder aside in time, the creature’s tusks narrowly missing them.
It felt hopeless. The defenders were being driven back, overwhelmed not just by the sheer might of the Noxians and their monstrous mounts, but by the suffocating despair that came with the impenetrable darkness.
Then, amidst the chaos, a faint silhouette appeared in the distance. It was slender and small, moving toward them with deliberate steps.
“Who—what is that?” Garen muttered, squinting into the void.
As the figure drew closer, the faint glint of metal caught the dim light. In her hand, the girl held a simple rod, unassuming yet precise in its design. The defenders froze, their confusion momentarily overriding their despair.
The girl’s steps were deliberate, her movements steady despite the chaos that surrounded her. She stopped a few feet away, her face obscured by shadow, but her presence commanding in its quiet resolve.
With a measured motion, she raised the rod. It extended smoothly, sections unfolding in a fluid motion until it elongated and reshaped itself into an elegant staff. The transformation was seamless, the staff now glowing faintly with a golden hue as if charged with latent power.
The defenders exchanged uncertain glances, their breaths caught in their throats.
Then, without a word, the girl lifted the staff high and slammed its base into the ground.
A pulse of light erupted from the impact, surging outward in a blinding wave. The oppressive darkness that had consumed the battlefield was obliterated in an instant, retreating like smoke caught in a strong wind. The light was brilliant, warm, and overwhelming, flooding the battlefield as though the sun itself had descended.
The monstrous beasts that had thrived in the shadows recoiled, their hulking forms fully exposed under the harsh illumination. The defenders, shielding their eyes against the sudden brightness, gasped as the chaos was replaced with clarity. The once-confusing melee was now starkly visible.
As the light stabilized, the girl stepped forward, her features finally revealed. Her golden hair glimmered in the glow, her face a mix of resolve and vulnerability.
It was Lux.
The shock was palpable.
“Lux?” Jarvan’s voice cracked as he stared at her, his grip tightening on his sword.
Garen, wide-eyed, muttered, “A mage... She’s a mage?” His tone was filled with disbelief, tinged with a hint of betrayal.
Powder, already privy to the truth, remained silent, her gaze shifting between Lux and the others. Ekko simply nodded, his expression calm but his eyes full of understanding.
Lux stood motionless, her chest heaving as she held the staff tightly. The light that had saved them now felt heavy on her shoulders, its brilliance exposing not just the battlefield but her deepest secret. She glanced at Jarvan, then at Garen, her lips trembling as unshed tears glistened in her eyes.
From the other side of the battlefield, Swain’s deep, mocking laugh cut through the stunned silence.
“Oh, how deliciously ironic,” he said, stepping forward, his crimson eyes glowing with cruel amusement. “Demacia, the bastion of purity, the righteous hammer against the evils of magic... and here stands your little savior, bathing you in the light of her forbidden gifts.”
Lux flinched, the weight of his words pressing down on her.
Swain smirked, his voice dripping with venom. “Tell me, Prince of Demacia,” he said, his crimson gaze locking onto Jarvan with mocking intensity. “Is she an exception to your noble crusade? Or has your precious kingdom finally decided to embrace the hypocrisy it so fervently denies?”
He turned his attention to Garen, his words slicing through the stunned silence like a blade. “And you, Garen Crownguard—the paragon of Demacian virtue. What do you say? Will you stand by your sister, the mage, or does your so-called duty demand her condemnation?”
Lux flinched at the words, her grip tightening on the staff as her knuckles whitened. Her glowing eyes flicked between Jarvan and Garen, her heart pounding as though each beat might shatter her resolve.
Jarvan took a step forward, his petricite-embedded armor gleaming in the radiant light Lux had conjured. His expression was carved from stone, his voice steady despite the turmoil within. “She is not an exception,” he declared, his tone sharp and unyielding. “She is Demacia. She is our strength, our hope, and our light. And she stands with us.”
Garen hesitated for the briefest of moments, the weight of the revelation visible in his conflicted expression. But when he met Lux’s tearful, pleading eyes, something within him shifted. With a sharp exhale, he stepped to her side, raising his sword defensively. “She is my sister,” he said, his voice low but firm. “And I will protect her.”
Swain’s smirk deepened, his wings unfurling ominously as he chuckled, the sound reverberating through the battlefield like a dark omen. “Touching. Truly,” he said mockingly, spreading his arms as if welcoming their defiance. “But light fades, even the brightest. And when it does, the shadows will consume all.”
Lux steadied her staff, the radiant glow intensifying as her resolve strengthened. The weight of her secret, now exposed, pressed heavily on her shoulders, but she refused to falter. Tears streamed silently down her face, but her eyes burned with determination.
Jarvan and Garen stood firm at her side, their weapons raised, their loyalty unwavering. Powder and Ekko, standing nearby, exchanged a knowing glance. Despite the grim stakes, they knew that Lux’s light had already turned the tide of the battle—and perhaps something greater.
Swain’s wings flared out fully, his crimson eyes alight with power as he prepared to strike. “Then let’s see how far your light can reach before the darkness devours you all.”
The battle reignited, the defenders now fighting with renewed vigor, Lux’s radiant magic a beacon of hope against the oppressive shadow of Swain’s power. Yet the weight of her revelation loomed, its consequences waiting just beyond the battlefield.
Despite the light Lux had summoned, the defenders still struggled against the overwhelming power of the armored beasts. Their sheer size and ferocity made each clash a desperate gamble for survival.
Powder and Lux stood side by side, fighting to hold their ground. Powder hurled grenades with precision, and Lux’s radiant spells carved through the darkness, but the relentless charge of a massive beast sent dread surging through their veins. It barreled toward them, tusks gleaming, its roar deafening.
Before they could react, a sharp whistling pierced the air. A rocket firework streaked down from above, bursting just in front of the creature’s face in a dazzling explosion of light and sound. The beast reared back, startled, its momentum broken as it turned sharply and crashed into a pile of debris.
Powder spun toward the direction of the firework. Her eyes landed on a group of children perched on a nearby rooftop, laughing and cheering. Tali stood at their center, grinning smugly, a lit firework in her hand. She met Powder’s gaze and gave her a confident smirk.
Powder’s jaw dropped in disbelief. “Dammit, kids!” she shouted, her voice echoing across the battlefield. But suddenly, a Noxian soldier lunged from the shadows, blade aimed at her back.
"Powder, move!" Ekko’s shout rang out as he intercepted the attack, his bat colliding with the soldier’s weapon in a loud clang. He swiftly swung again, knocking the soldier off balance before delivering a precise strike to take him down.
"Stay sharp, Powder," Ekko said, flashing a grin as he turned to cover Lux, who was still focused on holding off the dark forces. "We’ve got this together."
Meanwhile, emboldened by their small victory, the children began lighting more rocket fireworks. The bright trails streaked through the air, their explosions creating brief moments of chaos that sent the beasts stumbling and disoriented. For a moment, it seemed like the tide might shift.
But then Powder saw him.
Swain.
Hovering above the battlefield, his dark wings spread wide, his piercing crimson eyes locked onto the rooftop where the children stood. His expression, cold and calculating, shifted into something far darker—a predatory focus that sent a chill through Powder’s veins.
“No…” Powder whispered, her voice trembling. Panic surged through her as she screamed at the children, “Run! Tali, get them out of there!”
The children froze as Swain began descending toward them, his form casting a shadow that seemed to grow with every passing second. Tali’s smirk faltered as fear flickered in her eyes. But instead of fleeing, she set her jaw and turned to her bag, pulling out the largest firework she had—a towering rocket with intricate designs along its casing.
In a swift motion, Tali pulled out the purple gem—the very gem Powder had kept hidden away—and placed it carefully inside the rocket's chamber. Powder’s heart raced in her chest as she recognized the gem. Her breath caught, panic rising within her as she watched Tali complete the ritual.
“Tali, stop! That’s not a firework anymore! You don’t know what it’ll do!” Powder screamed, her voice breaking with desperation. But it was too late. Tali lit the fuse, and with a hiss, the rocket launched into the sky, a burst of fiery brilliance trailing behind it.
Swain's wings twitched, his instincts telling him something catastrophic was about to unfold. Instead of charging straight for the children, he veered away, his form cutting through the smoke-filled air. His destination was clear—Darius.
The surge of power emanating from the rocket was dangerous, and Swain knew that if it detonated in the heart of the battle, the consequences could be dire. The Noxian forces needed to be ready for whatever came next, and Darius—still locked in combat—would be the key to ensuring they maintained control.
Swain’s wings snapped sharply, propelling him toward the battlefield’s edge, where Darius was locked in brutal combat. His mind raced as he sensed the potential for greater devastation if the rocket struck its target. But while he was just a few feet away from his destination, the rocket reached its target.
The rocket collided with a beast, and for a split second, everything seemed to freeze. A faint crackle of dark magic spread through the air, followed by an ominous silence. The air was thick with tension, as if the world itself was holding its breath, waiting for something terrible to unfold.