Legends of Runeterra

When I landed in the ruins of Nerimaj, it wasn't the sensation of flying. The magic of the stars burned the sky along my path - it was the sensation of falling.

After all, I am only human.

On the swirling dunes around me, a group of Rahoraks fought. These Solari warriors had come a long way from the temple on Mount Targon. They had fifty spears, and had marched three weeks deep into the desert—a distance I could cover in a moment. They had come to investigate a power that was overflowing—even as their own was waning. Here, the sun they worshiped was always bright, and the shadows of history seemed to be imprinted in the desert, outlining the remnants of lost empires in ancient times. The dunes now buried the great buildings. The sun that once lifted mortals to heaven has long since sunk into the earth.

Shurima was born here, and it will die here. It was in Nerimaj that the first Ascended were created. They were supposed to defend Shurima from any threat. However, they were not killed, and their country was destroyed. The Ascended went crazy during the centuries of strife, becoming darkin, trampling and ravaging the world, and were eventually imprisoned.

Yet it is clear to me that something abomination born of Shurima's hubris is still alive...

The sound of metal chiming rang in my ears, and a spear swept past my helmet. Spears came one after another. The sound gradually formed a high-pitched war cry, and the Rahorak released their power. However, just as the sky was filled with metal, a magical explosion swept the spear's forward trajectory, leaving a mark of destruction in the ruins.

When the dust settled, I saw it. The object of my quest. A creature stood there, scorched and broken, just like the empire it was to rule. It was unlike any Ascended I had ever seen, a shattered god, come to claim this fallen city and intend to raise it again.

But once upon a time...it was just an ordinary person.

I will remind it of what it once was - I will breathe life into destruction. I will remind them all.

"It's a god warrior!" one of the Lahoraks exclaimed, "We can't defeat it!"

"I will show you the death of a god!" I roared, raising my spear and charging. The spears gleamed with their power, the power of the gods, the power of the stars. My muscles struggled to bear the weight of the alien magic as the creature released another blast through its broken body. My spear did not burn up like Rahorak's, but instead shone with its own light. It rushed towards the Ascendant like a comet, knocking him to the ground, and the power of the magic explosion was deflected into the sky.

In front of me, a few feet away from the gully created by the creature, a Rahorak held the body of another warrior in her arms, her own arm burned by the magic as she tried to protect her comrade.

"You... you are a Protoss," she said, but I could see desperation in her eyes. She was begging, pleading for a yes, something that would save her. Only that would save her friends. All around me, the Rahorak's lines were crumbling, their will to fight broken.

I didn't answer. My spear had been summoned back into my hand, the magical power she so desperately desired. The spear returned with a bit of the force it had thrown. The Ascended One left no blood on the tip of the spear, only sand and dust - its body was made entirely of magic and rock.

I want to tell her my name, that I am Atreus, a Rahorak who once looked to the stars for the power to save himself... but that man is dead. He died atop Mount Targon, alongside his brother Pylas. Pantheon killed him, and his own failures killed him. Try as I might, I cannot bring back Atreus or Pylas. Even if that god is gone, even if its constellation has been torn from the heavens, it will not help.

I said nothing, but turned around to face the creature again.

"You must fight," I told the Rahorak dryly. "You all must fight." All around us, the ruins of the city burned, as if the magic of the Ascended refused to die.

The sand melted and solidified into glass as I raced across it. The magical blasts kept coming, each one shaking the world until it felt like the earth itself was falling apart and only the heavens remained. But I refused to give up. I saw ballistas lying abandoned where they had been. Rahoraks hid behind the rubble, shields raised, swallowed by the dust.

"Fight! You must fight!" I shouted even louder. There was still a weight of godly authority in my voice, and it disgusted me. Then I rushed in front of it, my spear cutting through the stone it used to pretend to be a face. At such a close distance, his magic blast hit my shield directly, forcing me back. My spear swept again, leaving a trail of magic. Once again, I raised my shield, just in time to block the Ascendant's wrath.

I used all my strength, digging my feet into the dirt, and stopped the monster in its tracks. The Ascended One's will controlled the magic, and it attacked me more and more fiercely in a ruthless fury. I fought back, roaring through my teeth, and stabbed my spear wildly in all directions from behind my shield - piercing the ruins, piercing the sky, and the still-hidden Rahorak in the middle. My hands began to tremble, and this time I roared not to the group of warriors, but to myself, with a suffocating roar.

"fighting……"

The creature's eyes gleamed with ferocity. It knew. The ground beneath my feet was crumbling. My body was crumbling. I fell on my back. The magic on my spear died, and my helmet clanged as I choked.

I spat blood into the dust and struggled to raise my head. When I looked toward Nerimaj, I could only see a Rahorak warrior, surrounded by smoke and chaos. She looked back at me and saw my eyes that had just appeared... This time, she didn't see a Protoss. The man was holding Pylas, watching his dying breath freeze into snow.

I wonder if she recognizes the tattoo on my chest. It's the constellation in the night sky, my destiny. A scar runs through it. Her eyes no longer plead, I see a glow on her face, and the creature begins to gather strength, preparing to release another magical blast. Although her arm is broken and her friend is frozen, she still picks up the shield and stumbles towards me, as if she is destined to die, her steps are firm.

"What...is your name?!" I asked intermittently, gasping for breath, and her light became more and more dazzling.

"Athosser," she said firmly, standing beside me, and then facing the direction of the magic explosion with her shield.