The red liquid flowing at the bottom of the abyss wasn't especially hot. Once Logan and Vander got close, it just felt warm—and the sharp, choking stink of blood hit them hard.
"Logan," Vander said gravely, "let me go first."
Logan shook his head. He understood what Vander meant, but in terms of raw strength, Logan was already far beyond him. If something really went wrong, the only thing Vander had on Logan was that terrifying healing factor.
But if even Logan couldn't withstand the damage, Vander wouldn't be able to either. He'd drop in seconds—and until his wounds regenerated, he'd be no different from waiting to die.
And even if Logan were weaker, he still wouldn't let Vander stand in front of him and take risks for him.
Vander thought that if Logan got hurt, Jinx would be devastated—sure. But if Vander got hurt, Jinx would be devastated too.
Vander didn't want Jinx suffering.
Neither did Logan.
Logan gave Vander a quick hand signal, held his breath, and stepped into the blood pool first.
Vander stared at Logan's back, his fangs pressing against his lip—then he followed.
They sank into the blood pool and went down, down… until they emerged into an open space that felt like underground ruins.
"Zaun… has a place like this?!" Vander looked up first, eyes full of shock. About a dozen meters above them was the blood pool they'd descended through—yet down here was solid ground.
He had no idea how that was possible. But even more startling than a blood pool suspended overhead was what lay in front of him.
He scanned the surroundings. Beneath Highstone Mine was a wide, open area—nearly a thousand square meters of space.
Ahead were broken stone steps, corners missing and edges worn by time—dozens of steps leading up to a ruined temple. The temple stood about three meters tall and more than ten meters wide. The massive, shattered stone doors were scorched with burn marks.
And all around it were corpses.
Insects. Rats. Unknown animals reduced to half-devoured skeletons. Bones of every size were piled thickly around the temple like a graveyard that had been feeding something for years, making the whole place feel wrong in a way that crawled under the skin.
"That thing's in there?" Vander stared at the temple and swallowed.
"Probably," Logan said.
"Then… we go take a look?" Vander asked after a beat.
He figured that with the two of them together, they could tear through hundreds of Noxian soldiers. So whatever monster was inside… they should be able to handle it.
But Logan shook his head, voice low. "No. Vander—we go back. This is enough."
From here, once he reached Spirit Blossom and found Ahri, the distance was close enough for her to sense exactly what was inside that temple.
Logan hadn't come down here to fight. He'd come down to make contact, gather information, and bring it back to Ahri. Now he had what he needed.
If they went deeper—
Just imagining stepping into that temple made Logan's spine prickle cold.
Because this scene alone was already too unnatural.
Vander wasn't an idiot. Seeing how cautious Logan was, he nodded and agreed, turning with him to start climbing back up.
But the instant they turned, both of their minds were hit with the same whisper.
That voice was seductive—raspy, deep, unmistakably female. It echoed directly inside Logan's skull, freezing his body in place. His neck twisted backward, his eyes rolled up, and blood energy bled off him in a visible haze—
Then, in the next heartbeat, the white returned to his eyes. Logan snapped back into himself and roared, "Vander—run!"
Vander reacted instantly. He grabbed Logan by the back of the collar and threw him onto his back.
His speed wasn't much faster than Logan's on flat ground, but on this terrain? Vander had the advantage. Carrying Logan up the wall was faster than Logan climbing on his own.
With a sharp crack, Vander's claws drove into the rock face like it was wet cardboard. He sprinted on all fours up the sheer wall, Logan clinging to him and looking down.
"Don't leave…"
"My child… I'll grant you power. I'll give you everything you want…"
"Come back—come back, come back!"
The voice inside Logan's head grew louder and louder. It started as intimate murmurs, then became a frantic scream—furious that Logan was getting away.
A booming roar echoed.
The blood pool churned.
Logan watched in horror as the pool compressed and reshaped into blood-red tendrils that snapped upward, reaching for Vander.
"I've got it—keep moving!" Logan shouted. One hand locked hard into Vander's shoulder blade, making Vander grit through the pain without slowing. With his other hand, Logan struck the tendrils as they whipped up from below.
They weren't tough. When Logan hit them with force, they burst into spray—then instantly re-formed again, pulsing and gathering like living blood.
Vander climbed insanely fast, gaining dozens of meters every second.
"That thing is alive," Logan said, heart hammering. "It was watching us. It was trying to lure us inside!"
Vander felt ice crawl down the back of his skull.
He'd seen the temple sitting there quietly and had suggested going in.
Now he realized how stupid that was.
If Logan was right, then it had been deliberate.
It had played dead, waited for them to approach—like a predator lying still until prey stepped close.
When Logan and Vander didn't take the bait and started to leave, it tried to charm them with whispers. But Logan and Vander weren't really human anymore, and they resisted.
So now it was done pretending.
It simply attacked.
As Logan and Vander neared the top, the blood tendrils abruptly stopped—then fused together, condensing into an enormous blood sphere.
In the center of that sphere—nearly twenty meters across—several golden eyes opened, locking onto Logan's back with a hate-filled stare.
"No… don't go. Give me your body. Give it to me!"
Under that shriek, the sphere burst with a wet pop, blood raining down into the ruins.
Logan glanced downward and saw the spilled blood surge toward a single point—
The temple.
Then the temperature in the abyss spiked. The rot stench vanished in the heat, but the smell of blood slammed into the air even harder.
And in a blink—
A massive, skinless red rat appeared at the bottom of the abyss, its flesh exposed and dripping. A golden harp was embedded into its back. Several eyes blinked open along the instrument's body, staring straight up at Logan.
"Give me your body!"
"To merge with the great Styraatu is your honor, human!"
The blood-red rat spoke in a hoarse, low female voice—so hungry for Logan's flesh it sounded like desire and rage twisted together.
Styraatu had never seen a human like this: a body absurdly powerful, favored by Runeterra's elements.
If she could take him, she would become stronger.
Strong enough to aid her general—strong enough to open the Second Darkin War.
Great Aatrox would not fail.
Xolaani would pay in agony.
The Darkin traitor, Ta'anari, would pay as well.
And Aatrox would kill the Aspect of Twilight—avenging every Darkin.
Just imagining it made Styraatu tremble with manic excitement.
She never wanted to be stuck possessing a rat. If she had the choice, she would always choose a human host over something like this.
Because once a possession happened, even if she burned all her power to switch hosts later, her strength would still be affected.
For a Darkin, changing hosts too often was self-sabotage.
Every switch meant burning through the blood power she'd spent so long gathering.
That was why Styraatu had awakened early and spent years luring creatures down here—using their blood to practice blood magic while she waited for the right human body.
Everything that got too close—bugs, frogs, rats—anything that almost became a host—died in piles around the temple.
But now… she couldn't wait anymore.
Because even if it cost every last drop of blood she had—
If she could get that human body…
Any price was worth it.
Styraatu's golden eyes locked greedily onto Logan's back. The huge rat shrieked—and flames erupted around her. Her body swelled and expanded, growing larger and larger until she became a towering monster of fire, more than ten meters tall.
At the center was Styraatu's host—the rat.
The rest of her form was built from flame and blood, shaping into a brutal body. One hand held a harp of fire. The other reached upward, clawing toward the exit.
"How long are they going to take?" Jinx paced outside Highstone Mine, stomping her foot, irritation spilling out of her.
Silco stood beside her, and he and Vi were both physically keeping her from charging inside.
Singed looked calm, almost bored, like none of this concerned him.
They'd been waiting for more than half an hour. Besides the initial thunderous crash when Logan and Vander first went in, the mine had gone completely silent.
"We should send someone in," Jinx muttered to Silco. "We have to check."
Silco shook his head. "If there's something neither Logan nor Vander can handle, going in would only get in their way."
Jinx knew he was right.
But knowing it didn't make her accept it.
"Yeah, but just standing here—"
She didn't finish.
Boom!
A massive explosion detonated above Highstone Mine.
The top of the hill blew apart. The shockwave made everyone nearby dizzy, ears ringing. People clapped hands over their ears and instinctively opened their mouths to relieve the pressure. A few Undercity Enforcers who were closest were thrown off their feet by the blast.
Jinx winced, hands clamped over her ears, letting out a pained cry as she looked up—
Flames erupted from the summit. Red light washed the sky. And through the wind, two figures shot upward into open air.
"Logan—Vander!" Jinx recognized them instantly.
Logan's shirt had been burned away, leaving his chest bare. Vander's fur was scorched black, and one massive claw had been torn off—already regenerating as new tissue grew back.
A giant teal bird flew behind them, giving Logan and Vander brief flight—just enough to keep them airborne.
Logan didn't look at Jinx.
He opened his mouth and bellowed with everything he had:
"Everyone—evacuate! Now!"
The moment his voice fell, a colossal red monster forced its way out of the mine entrance. Flames spread in all directions, scorching the mountain. A huge hand—more than ten meters long—reached up toward Logan in the sky.
Styraatu would not let this chance slip.
She was taking that body, no matter what.
And once she had it…
She would destroy this place.
Then she would go north—to the icy ports of the Freljord.
Because her general was there.
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