"Zaun? How interesting..."
A white-haired man studied the intelligence report in his hands, a calculating smile spreading across his weathered features. Grand General Swain had seen many reports cross his desk, but this one held particular promise.
Over the past few weeks, Noxus had received shipments of experimental potions from the undercity of Zaun. The results on their frontline soldiers had been nothing short of remarkable. During field tests, ordinary infantry who consumed these concoctions displayed combat prowess that rivaled their most seasoned veterans.
Of course, the enhancement came with a price. Once the chemical effects wore off, the soldiers collapsed from exhaustion, requiring days of recovery before they could return to active duty. But during those precious hours when the formula coursed through their veins, each warrior could easily take on ten enemies without breaking a sweat.
Such potency had captured Swain's attention completely. He'd heard whispers about Zaun's recent transformation, but the implications were only now becoming clear.
"No wonder Zaun has been in upheaval lately," he mused aloud, setting down the report. "The old garbage dump has reinvented itself as a technological powerhouse. Someone in Piltover is going to have quite the headache dealing with this development."
Swain felt no particular desire to interfere with Zaun's evolution. While he was always hungry for knowledge, he was selective about what deserved his attention. His interests lay in magical theory, demonology, and any wisdom that could strengthen Noxus's position in the world.
Technology, while useful for enhancing a warrior's capabilities, also created vulnerabilities. It made soldiers dependent on external tools rather than their own strength and cunning. The fallen Emperor Darkwill had been just such a fool—appearing to wield ultimate power while remaining nothing more than a puppet dancing to the Black Rose's strings.
"Double our orders from Zaun," Swain commanded, his voice carrying the weight of absolute authority. "I want access to everything they're producing."
The moment he finished speaking, a shadow detached itself from the darkness behind his chair—one of his many spies materialized without a sound.
"What about Piltover?" the agent asked in hushed tones. Their intelligence network had limited presence in Zaun itself, but they maintained several assets in the gleaming city above.
"Do your job and don't concern yourself with those pompous merchants," Swain replied dismissively. "Since Piltover has proven useless to our cause, we have no obligation to consider their feelings on the matter."
"Understood, Grand General."
The shadow vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Moments later, a raven took flight from the Immortal Bastion, its dark wings carrying it toward the industrial sprawl of Zaun.
In the grand meeting hall of Dawn Castle, the shining capital of Demacia, tension hung thick in the air like morning fog.
"The Noxian offensive grows more brutal by the day," General Garen reported grimly, his massive frame rigid with concern. "I'm not certain how much longer our defenses can hold."
Since his return from the frozen wastes of Freljord, Garen had thrown himself into commanding the front lines with characteristic determination. Initially, Demacia's forces had managed to repel Noxian advances through superior tactics and their legendary petricite weapons—magical stones that could nullify enemy spellcasters and silver steel that cut through even the strongest armor.
But something had changed. The Noxian soldiers had begun displaying inhuman ferocity and strength, as if they'd consumed some unholy substance that transformed them into berserkers. Where once a handful of Demacian defenders could hold an entire section of wall, now they needed three times as many troops to maintain the same positions.
And this was against Noxus's regular army—not even their elite legions. Garen shuddered to think what would happen if the Empire recalled their veteran forces from distant campaigns and focused their full attention on Demacia's borders.
This urgent concern had driven him to abandon his post temporarily, riding his faithful dragonbird back to the capital for this emergency council. The situation was deteriorating too rapidly for normal military channels.
"You've been wearing that expression since you walked through those doors," Prince Jarvan IV observed quietly, studying his childhood friend with worried eyes. "What exactly happened out there?"
Xin Zhao, the Seneschal, stood silently against a marble pillar with his three-talon spear cradled in his arms. The former gladiator's weathered face showed no emotion, but his dark eyes were alert and focused, waiting for Garen's explanation.
"The Noxian soldiers have been consuming some kind of enhancement potion," Garen explained, his voice heavy with implications. "The substance dramatically increases their physical capabilities. Apart from lacking combat experience, these chemically-enhanced troops perform almost identically to our most elite warriors."
Shocked murmurs rippled through the assembled nobles and military advisors. The idea that a simple potion could elevate common soldiers to match Demacia's finest was almost incomprehensible to them.
"Are you saying we can't stop them?" one of the council members asked, his voice cracking slightly.
"Not exactly," Garen shook his head, a puzzled expression crossing his stern features. "Here's the strange part—their enhanced state doesn't last long. After each assault, they retreat and remain inactive for extended periods, apparently recovering from the effects."
This revelation brought a collective sigh of relief to the room. While the potion clearly granted incredible power, it came with significant limitations that could potentially be exploited.
Still, even temporary enhancement posed a serious strategic threat. The psychological impact on Demacian troops was immense—knowing that any moment, ordinary enemy soldiers might transform into nearly unstoppable killing machines.
"Actually, that's why I've returned," Garen continued, his voice taking on a more determined tone. "I want to discuss sending an envoy to Zaun."
"Zaun?" Prince Jarvan frowned deeply, clearly confused. "Why would you want to send someone there instead of focusing on our defensive preparations?"
But Garen's expression remained resolute as he met each council member's gaze in turn.
"Do you remember the news I brought back from Freljord?" he asked deliberately.
"You mean about finding the person who defeated the Void?" Xin Zhao straightened slightly, recognition dawning in his eyes.
The Seneschal recalled Garen's incredible report from his northern expedition. Even the dreaded Void Watcher—a cosmic horror that had required the combined efforts of three Freljordian demigods to contain—had apparently been handled like a domesticated pet by someone wielding mysterious frost powers.
Honestly, Xin Zhao remained deeply skeptical of such claims. While the Void incursion in Freljord had indeed been resolved with unusual speed, the idea that anyone could casually defeat a Void Watcher seemed beyond belief.
However, Prince Jarvan's eyes lit up with sudden hope and understanding.
The mysterious warrior had mentioned that he could be found using a special badge as identification. That meant he was currently residing in Zaun, making contact theoretically possible.
While they didn't possess the badge the stranger had offered, Jarvan was confident that Demacia's legendary treasures could serve as adequate compensation. After all, their forbidden magic stones and silver steel weapons were renowned throughout Runeterra. Surely such valuable resources would convince this powerful individual to aid their cause.
"Very well," the Prince decided after a moment of consideration. "Who do you propose we send on this mission?"
"Lux," Garen answered without hesitation. "My sister."
The choice was far from random. Garen had deeply personal reasons for suggesting Luxanna, though he couldn't voice them publicly in the current political climate.
Demacia's stance against magic had hardened considerably since the recent assassination of King Jarvan III by a mage infiltrator. In such an environment, anyone displaying magical abilities was automatically viewed with suspicion and hostility.
His younger sister possessed remarkable talent for light magic—a secret the Crownguard family had desperately tried to conceal. If her abilities were ever discovered, she would be branded a heretic and face severe persecution, possibly even execution.
The only way to protect Lux was to get her far away from Demacia's increasingly paranoid atmosphere. Zaun, with its reputation for accepting outcasts and technological innovation, seemed like the perfect refuge.
Moreover, if this legendary warrior truly resided in the undercity, Lux would be under the protection of someone capable of defeating Void Watchers. And if she could somehow secure his assistance, it might solve both their family crisis and Demacia's military problems simultaneously.
Prince Jarvan studied Garen's face intently for several long moments, reading between the lines of his friend's request. Finally, he nodded slowly.
"Agreed. My father is gone, and I must establish my authority through decisive action. Demacia needs victories to restore faith in the crown."
With Jarvan's approval secured, Garen felt a wave of relief wash over him. The hardest part of his plan was complete.
Now he just had to convince his notoriously stubborn and independent sister to cooperate—which might prove even more challenging than facing Noxian armies.
"I just hope Lux doesn't refuse," he muttered under his breath. "Everything I'm doing is for her protection."
After the council meeting concluded, Prince Jarvan immediately made his way to the royal treasury. Since they had no clear idea what this mysterious warrior might value, he decided to gather a diverse collection of Demacia's most precious artifacts.
Garen had mentioned that the stranger had demonstrated knowledge of advanced magic during his encounter with a great wizard in Freljord. While Demacia officially banned magical practices, they possessed numerous enchanted items confiscated from defeated mages over the centuries—treasures that could rival anything found in magical kingdoms.
Meanwhile, Garen steeled himself for the most difficult conversation of his plan. He walked through the family estate's familiar corridors until he reached his sister's private quarters.
"Lux, I need to speak with you about something important," he called out, knocking firmly on her door.
After several minutes of suspicious shuffling sounds from within, the door finally opened to reveal Luxanna Crownguard—her golden hair disheveled and her expression carefully neutral.
"Hello, brother," she said with forced casualness. "What brings you here so late?"
Looking at his sister's obviously practiced innocent act, Garen couldn't help but massage his temples. The girl truly believed she'd kept her magical abilities secret from their family, when in reality everyone had simply chosen not to confront her about it directly.
Until now.
"May I come in?" he asked gently. "This conversation requires privacy."
Garen stepped into his sister's room and settled his considerable bulk into a chair that creaked ominously under his weight. He glanced around, noting the hastily concealed spellbooks and magical research materials scattered about.
"You can use magic," he stated matter-of-factly, deciding direct confrontation was the most efficient approach.
Without asking permission, he reached across her desk and picked up what appeared to be an innocent journal—only to reveal a leather-bound tome on elementary light magic hidden beneath.
"No! That's not... I mean, I'm just studying it to better understand how to combat magical threats," Lux stammered, her face flushing red. "It's purely academic research for defensive purposes!"
Even caught red-handed with evidence, she continued denying the obvious truth. Her fear of Demacia's anti-magic laws ran so deep that she couldn't bring herself to admit her abilities, even to her own brother.
"Stop pretending," Garen said with a mixture of exasperation and affection. "You're the only person in this family who thinks you're successfully hiding anything." Despite his words, there was clear pride in his voice. "But once you leave the capital, you must be extremely careful about concealing your powers. Never use magic unless your life depends on it."
"Wait... leave?" Lux's eyes widened as she caught the key word. "Where am I going?"
Normally, her family's travel plans wouldn't specifically concern her. But her brother's serious tone suggested this was no ordinary journey—and that she would be personally involved.
"The council has decided to send you as Demacia's secret envoy to Zaun," Garen explained carefully. "Your mission is to locate and negotiate with the mysterious warrior I encountered in Freljord."
Lux had heard stories about this legendary figure through palace gossip—the person who had supposedly defeated cosmic horrors with ease and commanded powers beyond imagination.
"You want me to find him?" she asked incredulously. "But I've never even left Mithral City, let alone traveled outside Demacian borders!"
"Yes, and I'll provide you with experienced guards for protection," Garen assured her. "You'll travel disguised as part of a merchant caravan to avoid suspicion. It's the safest way to cross through potentially hostile territory."
This was their only viable option for leaving Demacia undetected. With Noxian forces controlling most land routes, any official diplomatic mission would likely be intercepted or destroyed.
A few days later, a modest merchant caravan departed from Mithral City's gates and began the long journey toward Zaun.
"I still can't believe we're actually doing this," Lux whispered to herself, gazing out at the unfamiliar countryside rolling past her carriage window. "I wonder if this mysterious person will even be willing to help us."
The caravan was legitimate in every respect except for its true purpose. The royal family had commissioned actual merchants to make the journey, with the only unusual element being the quality of guards assigned to protect the convoy—all elite soldiers handpicked by Prince Jarvan himself.
However, these guards remained ignorant of their passenger's true identity and mission. They simply knew they were escorting someone important to Zaun for unspecified diplomatic reasons.
"How long before we reach our destination?" Lux called out to the driver after watching the scenery for several hours.
"About ten days to reach the coastal ports, my lady," came the reply. "From there we'll take ship passage to Shurima, then make our way overland to Zaun from the south."
This circuitous route was necessary because the direct path to Zaun lay through Noxian-controlled territory—clearly impossible given current hostilities. While sea travel posed its own risks, land routes offered more reliable security for their small group.
"Ten days just to reach the ships," Lux mused, suddenly grasping the true scale of Demacia's vast territory. "I had no idea we'd be traveling for so long."
The delay didn't particularly concern her, though. With the carriage to herself and no family members watching her every move, she finally had the freedom to pursue her magical studies without fear of discovery.
Smiling to herself, Lux retrieved a thick tome on advanced light manipulation from her carefully packed supplies. This journey might turn out to be the perfect opportunity to finally master some of the techniques she'd been struggling with for months.
Meanwhile, in distant Zaun, someone else was experiencing a moment of satisfaction.
"Ahhhh~"
Marcus stretched his arms above his head until his joints popped with satisfying cracks. The sound of relief that escaped his lips echoed through his workshop as tension flowed out of his body.
He hadn't felt this relaxed in weeks.
During his recent research period, he'd been working tirelessly to understand the promotion mechanics for various Warframe armors. Some frames with more focused power sets were relatively straightforward to analyze—their clear thematic elements made it obvious which dimensional planes would provide suitable enhancement materials.
But others presented frustrating complications that gave him persistent headaches.
Take his Chroma armor, for instance. This particular setup incorporated four distinct elemental powers, but finding a single dimensional plane that contained all four matching energies in the proper proportions seemed nearly impossible.
Fortunately, his research hadn't been entirely fruitless. While working through these theoretical problems, he'd accidentally discovered methods for upgrading his existing equipment to unprecedented levels of effectiveness.
"Speaking of unexpected discoveries," Marcus mused, examining the device in his hand, "using Aya essence to enhance equipment and push them to Prime has exceeded all my expectations."
The object he held appeared to be nothing more than a palm-sized metallic disc—his trusty war blade in its compact storage form. This weapon had served him faithfully across countless battles and dimensional travels.
Marcus applied slight pressure to specific points on the disc's surface. Instantly, the innocuous-looking object underwent a dramatic transformation. Three curved sheaths extended outward from the central hub, each deploying a wickedly sharp blade that gleamed with otherworldly energy.
The blades cut through the air itself as they emerged, creating a high-pitched whistle that spoke to their incredible sharpness and the speed of their deployment.
"Now I could face dimensional demons using equipment alone," he said with satisfaction, "without even needing to activate my armor systems."
With another precise touch, the blades retracted smoothly back into their sheaths, and the entire weapon collapsed back into its unassuming disc form within seconds.
"After all this time, this old war blade is still finding ways to surprise me," Marcus chuckled, pocketing the device.
With these newly upgraded tools at his disposal, enhancing his armor frames would become significantly easier. And this enhanced war blade would serve as a powerful artifact in its own right—a fitting reward for his patient research and experimentation.
As he settled back into his work, Marcus had no idea that a young noblewoman from Demacia was currently traveling across the continent, hoping to find and enlist his aid in her kingdom's desperate struggle against Noxian expansion.
The wheels of fate were turning, bringing together individuals whose meeting would reshape the political landscape of Runeterra in ways none of them could yet imagine.