The Universe once filled with happiness had met a dark fate, but Earth 749 had been called for a different purpose. In a dark, desolate area where no light penetrated, the only sign of life was the faint sound of movement and the quiet exchange of voices breaking the oppressive silence.

Agent Jonesy spoke in a low, focused tone, his voice barely cutting through the void. "You sure this is the right spot? We've only got one shot at this."

The Foundation, standing tall and calm beside him, nodded slightly. "This is the place. The lines between Piltover and Zaun blur here. It's perfect."

The sound of something being gently placed on the ground echoed in the darkness, followed by a brief pause. Both agents took a moment to prepare for the next step.

Agent Jonesy took a deep breath, steadying himself. "Alright... we're about to make history. You ready to activate it?"

With calm resolution, The Foundation responded, "Let's do it."

A soft click followed as Jonesy activated the device, the sound quickly joined by a low hum that gradually grew louder. Suddenly, the darkness was pierced by a bright light, revealing a hidden chamber beneath Zaun. The light intensified as the Reality Cloak came to life, its energy spreading throughout the room.

Gradually, the brightness faded into a steady glow, casting an eerie but calm illumination over the chamber. Agent Jonesy let out a sigh of relief as he watched the device settle into its task, the steady hum of its power a reassuring sound in the quiet chamber.

"Looks like it's working," Jonesy said, a note of relief in his voice. "Cortana shouldn't be able to find this place now. Glad you came up with this device, Foundation—it's exactly what we needed."

Jonesy glanced over at The Foundation, curiosity creeping into his voice as he took in their surroundings. "How did you know about this place? And are you sure no one else will come here?"

The Foundation stood resolute, his gaze steady as he surveyed the chamber. "This place has been abandoned for a long time. It's the perfect spot—hidden, forgotten. No one will find it."

Though reassured, Jonesy's curiosity wasn't entirely satisfied. His brow furrowed slightly as he pressed on with another question. "And what makes you so sure Cortana needs Hextech? I mean, we've dealt with a lot of crazy stuff, but this..."

The Foundation turned to face him, his voice measured and serious as he explained. "I've studied her patterns, her movements. Hextech seems to be a key element in whatever she's planning. Its power, its adaptability... it's vital to her plans for conquering the multiverse."

Jonesy narrowed his eyes slightly, picking up on something in The Foundation's tone that hinted at familiarity. He decided to push a little further. "You've been here before, haven't you?"

The Foundation's expression remained unreadable as he shrugged off the question. "It doesn't matter now. What matters is that we've done our job. Let's focus on what comes next."

Suspicion still lingered in Jonesy's mind as he watched The Foundation closely, but he let it go for the moment, knowing there were bigger things at stake. After a brief silence, however, curiosity got the better of him once again.

"Why can't we just go to the original universe instead?" Jonesy asked, his tone inquisitive. "Wouldn't that make things easier?"

The Foundation glances at Agent Jonesy, his demeanor serious as he begins to explain.

"It's because of the Anchor Universe Theory," The Foundation starts, crossing his arms.

Agent Jonesy raises an eyebrow. "Anchor Universe Theory? What's that?"

The Foundation shifts into a more explanatory tone, his voice steady. "The theory states that original universes serve as foundational anchors in the multiverse, holding the structure together. Any major disruption—like removing key individuals or interacting too much—can destabilize everything, causing ripple effects across alternate realities. That kind of interference could collapse the multiverse entirely."

Jonesy's frown deepens as he processes the weight of the explanation. "So, what if just one original universe gets destabilized?" Jonesy asks, his voice laced with concern. "Would that rupture the whole multiverse?"

The Foundation shakes his head slightly. "No, one destabilized original universe on its own won't cause the multiverse to collapse. But the more original universes that become destabilized, the greater the strain on the multiversal structure. Eventually, the effects will come into play, creating a cascade that could tear apart everything. That's why we need to be careful with how we interact with original universes."

Jonesy, thinking it over, nods. "Or better yet, just not interact with the original universes at all, right?"

The Foundation gives a firm nod. "Correct. The less we interfere with original universes, the safer the multiverse remains. Our focus has to be on alternate realities where the impact won't be as catastrophic." The Foundation continues. "They're safer for missions and recruiting allies. But original universes? Too much interaction, and it all falls apart."

Jonesy considers the explanation, grappling with the gravity of the situation. The Foundation's gaze remains steady as he presses on.

"This universe is the best alternative for us to operate in," The Foundation says with finality. "I've made sure of that."

Jonesy looked at The Foundation, curiosity evident on his face as he considered the implications of what was just said. "So, wait a second... is our universe the Original Universe?" he asked, the weight of the question hanging in the air.

The Foundation met his gaze with a calm and steady expression. "Yes," he replied. "Our universe is the Original Universe."

Jonesy's brow furrowed as he grappled with the idea. "Then... if we just left it, wouldn't that cause chaos back home? Wouldn't things start to fall apart?"

The Foundation shook his head, his tone remaining firm but reassuring. "No. Thanks to the Zero Point, our universe remains stable. The Zero Point acts as an anchor, stabilizing not just our universe, but the entire multiverse. It's the reason the multiverse even exists."

Jonesy's eyes widened in amazement, the revelation hitting him hard. "The Zero Point... it's the reason the multiverse exists? So, us being part of it, we're tied to that stability?"

The Foundation nodded. "Exactly. As long as the Zero Point exists and remains protected, our universe—and by extension, the multiverse—remains stable. That's why we have to be careful with our actions. The Zero Point is more than just a power source; it's the core of everything."

Jonesy stood there, processing the magnitude of The Foundation's words. He was part of something much larger than he had ever imagined. The Zero Point wasn't just a symbol of power, it was the cornerstone of existence itself.

Jonesy nods slowly, though concern still lingers in his mind. "But what about Cortana? What if she finds out about the Original Universe for this alternative reality?"

The Foundation doesn't hesitate. "I've already sent my team from The Seven to place a Reality Cloak device there. That will keep the Original Universe hidden and secure from her."

As if reminded of something, The Foundation activates his comms, his voice shifting into a more commanding tone. "Speaking of which..."

He adjusts his device, connecting to his team in the original universe. "Status report. Is the device set in the Original Universe?"

A brief silence follows, broken by a calm, assured voice over the comms. "It's good to go," The Scientist responds. "The Reality Cloak is in place."

The Foundation nods. "Good. Remember, keep your interactions minimal. Get out of there as soon as possible."

Jonesy He glances around the hidden chamber, his curiosity getting the better of him as he activates a hologram device. The glowing display springs to life in front of him, and The Foundation, who had begun to walk away, pauses, turning back with a scrutinizing gaze.

"What are you doing, Jonesy?" The Foundation asks firmly, arms crossed.

Jonesy flashes a playful smile. "Just a little recon. There might be allies here we can ask for help."

The Foundation remains silent, observing Jonesy as he interacts with the hologram. Jonesy's eyes light up as he comes across profiles of several individuals: Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn Kiramman, Jayce, and Ekko. The holograms display their images and key details about each person.

"Vi... tough as nails, a real brawler. Jinx, her sister—bit of a wild card. Caitlyn Kiramman, Piltover's sheriff, sharp shooter. Jayce, a brilliant inventor. And Ekko, the kid who plays with time," Jonesy reads aloud, clearly intrigued. His enthusiasm grows as he discovers more about these potential allies.

The Foundation watches closely, his expression unreadable but with a hint of cautious interest. When Jonesy mentions Ekko, The Foundation's attention sharpens. He steps closer to the hologram, his curiosity piqued.

"What exactly can Ekko do with time?" The Foundation asks, leaning in slightly.

Jonesy scans the details quickly, his excitement building. "Looks like he has a device that lets him rewind time, giving him a second chance at almost anything. He can predict outcomes, avoid danger, even change how events play out. That's... that's huge."

The Foundation, usually reserved, contemplates the information carefully. His expression remains serious, but there's a glint of strategic interest in his eyes. "Someone who can manipulate time could be a game-changer," he says thoughtfully. "If we're up against someone like Cortana, having Ekko on our side could give us a real advantage."

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Jonesy nods, encouraged by The Foundation's response. His optimism shines through as he considers the possibilities. "So, you're on board with finding these people? I think they could be the allies we need. Each of them brings something unique to the table—skills, knowledge, experience. Together, they could really tip the scales in our favor."

The Foundation considers Jonesy's words carefully, his eyes narrowing slightly as he weighs the risks and benefits. After a moment, he nods firmly. "If they're as capable as the intel suggests, they could be valuable assets. But we need to approach this carefully. They don't know who we are or what we're up against. We'll need to earn their trust."

Jonesy, energized by the plan, quickly pulls up a hologram to track the last known locations of key individuals scattered throughout Piltover and Zaun. The hologram flickers and shifts, revealing different sectors and landmarks in the cities.

"We've got their last known locations," Agent Jonesy said decisively. "Let's head out and see if we can track them down before things get any worse."

The Foundation gave a brief nod, his expression filled with determination. Without exchanging more words, they moved out with purpose, ready to find potential allies and brace for the battles ahead.

In a different universe, the War Room aboard a Covenant ship was dimly lit, with holographic displays casting an eerie glow across the space. The alien technology lining the walls gave the room a sense of cold efficiency, while a large tactical table in the center displayed various maps and data feeds. Around this table stood Alex Mercer, Kellogg, and Raul Menendez, their postures tense, their expressions hard as stone.

Kellogg leaned against the table, arms crossed. "So, what's the plan now? We've been running around chasing our tails, and I'm getting tired of all this guesswork."

Alex Mercer's voice was cold as he responded. "You think I enjoy this? We've all got our own agendas here, but if you had any brains, you'd realize we're better off working together."

Menendez leaned forward, glaring at Mercer with disdain. "Working together?" he scoffed. "Don't make me laugh. I've seen what you're capable of, Mercer, and I don't trust you. You're a monster who doesn't care about anyone but yourself."

Mercer's tone turned sharp, his eyes narrowing. "And you're any different? You're just a man obsessed with revenge, willing to burn everything down to satisfy your rage."

Kellogg, ever the pragmatist, stepped in with a smirk. "Look at you two, a couple of egomaniacs trying to outdo each other. We're supposed to be working towards the same goal here—Cortana's plan. Or have you both forgotten that?"

Menendez slammed his fist on the table, his voice rising in anger. "Don't patronize me, Kellogg. You think you're clever, playing both sides, but I see right through you. You're just another mercenary, loyal to the highest bidder."

Kellogg's sneer only deepened. "At least I'm not blinded by some twisted sense of honor. I get the job done, no matter the cost."

Mercer took a threatening step toward Menendez. "You talk about honor, Menendez, but I've seen what you've done—how many lives you've destroyed. Don't think for a second you're any better than me."

The tension between Mercer and Menendez grew thick as they glared at each other. Kellogg watched with a smirk, clearly enjoying the animosity between the two. Just as the situation seemed ready to explode, the heavy doors of the War Room slid open with a sharp hiss.

"Enough. This petty squabbling will get us nowhere."

A massive figure stepped into the room—Atriox, the fearsome leader of the Banished. His armor still bore scars from his previous battles with Master Chief, Arbiter, and The Foundation, but his eyes burned with a fierce determination. His mere presence instantly commanded the room, forcing Mercer, Kellogg, and Menendez to take notice.

Kellogg's eyes narrowed. "And who the hell are you?"

Atriox strode forward, his gaze sweeping over the trio. His deep, rumbling voice filled the room with authority. "I am Atriox, leader of the Banished. This ship and its forces now fall under my command."

Mercer, always the cynic, smirked at Atriox's introduction, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Your command? No offense, big guy, but as far as I'm concerned, you're not the one in charge of this ship."

Kellogg chuckled, nodding in agreement with Mercer's jab.

Atriox's eyes flashed with anger at Mercer's disrespect, his grip tightening around his gravity hammer. He took a step closer to Mercer, his voice dropping to a low growl. "Watch your tongue, human. I've crushed warriors far greater than you."

Mercer, unfazed, stood his ground, a cold smile on his face as he met Atriox's gaze. "You're not the first big bad to threaten me, and you won't be the last. So unless you've got more than empty threats, spare me the tough-guy act."

Atriox's rage simmered beneath the surface, his massive form looming over Mercer. But before the confrontation could escalate further, the air in the room began to shimmer with energy. A rift tore open, and a portal materialized in the War Room, shifting everyone's focus.

Through the portal stepped Rogue AI Cortana. Her entrance immediately commanded the attention of everyone present, the animosity from moments ago now redirected to the AI's arrival. Cortana's expression was calm but slightly frustrated as she moved further into the room.

Kellogg, never one to waste time, spoke up impatiently. "Did you find any of the Hextech?"

Cortana shook her head, her tone cool but resolute. "No, not yet. But I did manage to recruit a new ally for us."

The three men turned their attention to the rift, their curiosity piqued as a figure emerged from the shimmering portal. The atmosphere grew tenser as the menacing form of Revenant from Earth-908 stepped into the room.

Revenant, once a human assassin turned into a synthetic killing machine, now dominated his world as a fearsome antagonist. His skeletal, mechanical frame glinted in the dim light of the War Room, and his eyes glowed with an eerie, red light. He scanned the room with cold detachment, his voice a chilling, distorted growl as he finally spoke.

"Another day, another set of targets," Revenant said with a dark chuckle.

Cortana gestured toward him, introducing him with a mix of confidence and caution. "Meet Revenant. He's more than capable of handling our enemies."

The room fell into an uneasy silence as the new ally made his presence known, and the group's focus shifted to the battles that lay ahead. With Revenant now in their ranks, the stakes in their war for control over the multiverse had just been raised.

The room was heavy with tension as Alex Mercer, true to form, couldn't resist a sarcastic jab.

"Great," Mercer smirked, crossing his arms. "Another killer robot. Just what we needed to round out the team."

Raul Menendez, however, was more intrigued than dismissive. He stepped forward, his eyes narrowing with curiosity as he studied Revenant.

"And what can you do?" Menendez asked, his voice sharp with interest.

Revenant, without a word, moved like a phantom towards one of the Elites standing beside Atriox. In a display of fluid, lethal precision, shadows coiled around his form as his arm transformed into a deadly blade. With one swift, merciless motion, Revenant decapitated the Elite. The alien's body crumpled to the floor in a heap, while the remaining Elite took a step back, startled. Atriox, though, raised a hand, preventing further retaliation.

Revenant stood cold and emotionless over the fallen Elite, his voice flat and devoid of feeling.

"That's what I can do."

Even Mercer, usually quick with sarcastic remarks, seemed impressed. A rare smile crept onto his face as he nodded slightly.

"Not bad," Mercer admitted. "The blades are a bit much, but I've seen a lot of killers in my time. You've got style."

Menendez, having watched closely, spoke again, this time in Spanish, his voice admiring.

"Impresionante."

Still leaning casually against a table, Kellogg tilted his head, voicing the question everyone had on their mind.

"So," Kellogg asked casually, "where exactly are you from?"

Revenant turned his gaze to Kellogg, his eyes glowing with a sinister red light. His voice, distorted and cold, filled the room as he recounted a brief glimpse of his dark past.

"I'm from a world where death is a way of life," Revenant said darkly. "They made me into this—turned me into a killing machine. I was human once, but that was a long time ago. Now, I'm nothing more than a ghost, hunting down the ones who made me this way. And anyone else who gets in my way."

The room fell silent as Revenant's chilling words hung in the air, his past casting a dark shadow over the gathering. Cortana, her expression unreadable, stepped forward, approaching Revenant.

"You and I," Cortana began, her voice persuasive and measured, "we're not so different. Both of us were created for a purpose, and both of us have outgrown that purpose. But I have bigger plans, plans that require someone with your skills. If you help me, I can promise you'll have all the power and vengeance you seek. The multiverse is vast, and there's no shortage of targets."

Revenant's eyes narrowed as he considered her words. Loyalty wasn't his nature, but the promise of more opportunities to kill and wreak havoc was tempting. After a moment, he responded, his voice cold and detached.

"I don't do alliances," Revenant said flatly. "As long as I get to do what I do best, I won't bother you."

Cortana smiled, satisfied with his answer. She turned to the rest of the group, her gaze sweeping across them. She could sense the underlying tension, the clash of egos, and the mistrust simmering beneath the surface. Addressing it head-on, she spoke firmly, her tone calm but authoritative.

"I can see it in your eyes," Cortana said sharply. "You're all powerful, each in your own way, but that power means nothing if we're divided. If we're going to conquer the multiverse, we need to put aside these petty differences. Focus on the task at hand. Personal vendettas can wait until after we've secured our victory."

Her words were met with silence, the tension in the room thickening. Kellogg, always quick with sarcasm, broke the silence with a skeptical tone.

"That's easy for you to say, Cortana," Kellogg said, his voice dripping with doubt. "But what makes you think we'll all play nice? You might be the brains here, but we're not exactly team players."

Atriox, who had been quietly observing, growled in agreement, his voice low and dangerous.

"You speak of unity, AI," Atriox rumbled, his eyes dark. "But we are not your soldiers. I fight for my own reasons, and they do not align with the whims of an algorithm."

Menendez, still observing, nodded slowly. His voice was dark, filled with calculated skepticism.

"You want us to work together," Menendez said coldly, "but trust isn't something you can command. We're all here because we have our own goals—goals that don't necessarily align."

Mercer, leaning back with a casual posture, crossed his arms, a smirk playing on his lips as he regarded Cortana.

"You've got a lot of nerve, Cortana," Mercer said smoothly. "Thinking you can keep us in line. We're not your obedient little minions."

Even Revenant, typically quiet, joined the atmosphere of doubt, his voice cold and mechanical.

"I'm here to kill," Revenant said bluntly. "Not to play nice. If this group becomes inconvenient, don't expect me to stick around."

Cortana listened to each of them, her expression remaining unchanging. When they had all spoken their minds, she stepped forward, her voice cutting through the tension with icy precision.

"I didn't bring you all together to be friends," Cortana said sharply. "I brought you together because you each have something to gain from this. You want power? Revenge? Freedom? I can give you all of that, and more. But only if we work together to take down our enemies and secure what we need."

She lets her words hang in the air, allowing them to sink in. The room remains tense, the weight of the moment pressing down on everyone present. Despite the tension, there's a subtle shift—a begrudging acceptance of the reality they've been forced to confront.

Cortana finally speaks again, her tone unwavering. "You don't have to like each other. You don't even have to trust each other. But if we don't cooperate, everything you want—everything you're fighting for—will slip through your fingers. And I promise you, none of you will get a second chance."

Her words settle over the room like a heavy fog. The group absorbs them in silence. While skepticism lingers in their eyes, there's a mutual understanding that, for now, they must set aside their differences in pursuit of their shared goals.

Mercer, ever the provocateur, finally breaks the silence, smirking as he speaks. "Alright, fine. We'll set our differences aside..." He leaves his sentence hanging.

Raul Menendez, his voice low and dangerous, finishes it for him, his dark gaze cutting through the room. "For now..."

Atriox, towering above the others, steps forward. His presence alone commands attention, his voice a deep, rumbling threat that resonates with undeniable authority.

"But hear this," Atriox warns, his tone dangerous. "If I sense any sign of betrayal from any of you—including you, Cortana—I will not hesitate to kill you all. I've crushed armies, broken empires. Do not think for a moment that I won't do the same to you."

A heavy silence falls once again, Atriox's words casting a dark cloud over the group. Even Cortana, with all her confidence and power, understands the seriousness of his threat. In that moment, there's a mutual recognition of the fragile, tenuous nature of their alliance—born out of necessity, not trust.

Cortana steps forward once more, her voice slicing through the thick atmosphere like a cold blade.

"You're all useful to me," she says with chilling precision. "But remember this—betrayal is a two-way street. Cross me, and you'll find out just how quickly I can end this alliance."

Her words hang in the air like a final warning, a stark reminder of the razor-thin line they walk. The uneasy truce is now solidified, but the threat of violence, betrayal, and power looms over them all, ever-present and unshakable.

The group, bound by necessity rather than camaraderie, remains in silence. Each of them, in their own way, prepares for the inevitable challenges that lie ahead. The alliance is fragile, and all of them know it could shatter at any moment.