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20

Piltover - The Hexgate

The air was heavy with smoke and the acrid scent of gunpowder. Piltover, the shining city of progress, lay shrouded under a glooming sky, broken by the looming shadow of The Banished, a dreadnought anchored ominously in the skies above. Noxian soldiers had breached the city, their crimson banners fluttering against the stark contrast of Piltover's once-pristine skyline.

Caitlyn Kiramman knelt amidst the chaos, clutching her side where a Noxian blade had found its mark. Blood seeped between her fingers, pooling around her knees as she gasped for air. The soldiers surrounding her stood in a half-circle, shields raised, their faces grim with resolve.

In front of her, Ambessa Medarda, a titan of war and Noxian power, stood tall. Her eyes bore no compassion, only the cold steel of victory. Beside her loomed Atriox, a monstrous figure of unyielding might, his gravity hammer gripped in one hand. Its head crackled faintly with kinetic energy, promising devastation with every swing.

Behind Caitlyn, a more personal betrayal took form. Maddie, once an ally and trusted friend, stood with her rifle aimed squarely at Caitlyn's head. Her expression was detached, her loyalty to Ambessa evident in the unwavering steadiness of her aim.

"I did appreciate your warmth," Maddie said, her voice devoid of the sentiment her words implied. Without hesitation, her finger squeezed the trigger.

The shots rang out, sharp and deafening—but instead of meeting Caitlyn's skull, the bullets struck something else. A radiant shield shimmered to life around Caitlyn, golden and impenetrable. The ricocheting bullets flew back toward Maddie, and one struck true, embedding itself between her eyes.

Maddie's rifle clattered to the ground. Her body wavered before collapsing, her head landing briefly on Caitlyn's shoulder. For a fleeting moment, Caitlyn felt the weight of Maddie's lifeless form before it slid to the ground beside her. Blood pooled around Maddie's corpse, staining the cobblestones.

Atriox snarled, his growl reverberating through the air like distant thunder. Before he could act, the colossal doors behind them creaked and groaned, their mechanisms grinding as they slowly opened.

Ambessa and Atriox turned toward the opening doors, weapons at the ready.

Emerging from the shadowy threshold was a figure cloaked in white. The hood of the robe obscured much of her face, but golden eyes pierced the gloom, glowing with an otherworldly brilliance. Her every step was deliberate, radiating a power that seemed to pulse with the very rhythm of the world itself.

It was Mel Medarda.

Her voice was calm but commanding, carrying an edge of plea and authority. "If you care for me at all, spare their lives. There is nothing to gain from this senseless bloodshed."

A tense silence fell over the battlefield. Ambessa's gaze hardened as she stared at her daughter. There was a flicker—something unreadable—but it was fleeting. She scoffed, breaking the moment.

"Still a fox," Ambessa muttered. Her tone was neither warm nor cold, but tinged with a subtle mockery. She raised a hand toward her hulking ally. "Atriox."

The beast of a man snarled in acknowledgment. He slammed his gravity hammer onto the ground, sending a shockwave that cracked the stone beneath him. The air seemed to ripple with the raw power emanating from his weapon.

"Do you believe your light can withstand me?" Atriox rumbled, his voice a guttural challenge.

Mel did not answer. Her golden eyes narrowed as she raised her hands, the energy within her intensifying, shimmering like liquid sunlight. Her stance shifted, prepared to face the monstrosity before her.

The chaotic rumble in the distance grew louder, shaking the battlefield. Ambessa's confident smirk faltered, replaced by a flicker of confusion. Her piercing eyes darted upward, scanning the skies. Mel turned slightly toward the sound, her glowing golden gaze narrowing. Even Atriox growled low in his throat, his predatory instincts sharpening as he shifted his stance.

The noise crescendoed, a discordant hum that evolved into a pounding rhythm. Then, breaking through the oppressive atmosphere, came the unmistakable thumping of techno music, blaring from an airship rapidly approaching from the horizon.

Ambessa squinted at the oddity, unsure whether to view it as a threat or a distraction. Above the battlefield, the source of the sound became clear: a blimp, gaudy and massive, emblazoned with an image of bunny ears painted across its bright yellow balloon. The music pulsed in sync with dazzling lights that exploded in the sky, sending bursts of pink, blue, and green cascading across the city like fireworks. The blimp's entrance was unapologetically chaotic, an anthem of controlled madness.

At the helm stood a hooded figure. Her pink hoodie, streaked with paint and grime, billowed in the wind as she yanked the wheel hard to the right, positioning the blimp above the scene. She glanced up, her face partially obscured except for strands of blue and pink hair spilling from beneath her hood.

It was Jinx.

She smirked slightly, manic, and painted with pure exhilaration. She leaned forward, staring down at the chaos below with an expression that said she wasn't just arriving at the party—she was the party.

Caitlyn, still kneeling on the ground and clutching her wound, looked up in stunned disbelief. Her vision blurred by pain, she struggled to process the sight. But there was no mistaking the iconic chaos Jinx brought with her.

But the spectacle wasn't over. As the blimp floated closer, Pelicans soared into view behind it, their massive forms cutting cleanly through the darkened skies. The sleek, crafts contrasted sharply with Jinx's chaotic ride. Inside the lead Pelican, the scene was all business. Rows of Marines sat ready, their armor polished, their faces set in determination. But even more imposing was the arrival of The Piltover Autumn, its massive hull gleaming as it hovered at a safe distance over the sea. The colossal airship positioned itself as a rival to The Banished dreadnought, the tension between the two vessels palpable.

Caitlyn recognizing the ships then whispered to herself, "Terrance." Relieved that he came to showcase his assistance in this fight.

Inside one of the Pelicans, the pilot's voice crackled over the comms. "We've reached the AO. All units, prepare for landing. Secure a perimeter and prepare for engagement."

A response came from another Pelican. "Roger that. LZ confirmed. Preparing for drop."

At the head of the Marines stood Sergeant Avery J. Johnson, his cigar clenched between his teeth, radiating the no-nonsense energy of a seasoned warrior. He turned to the troops, his voice commanding and filled with fiery confidence.

"Alright, ladies, listen up! Jinx is leading the charge. Once we hit the ground, show 'em what the Piltover's finest Marines are made of! Atriox, Ambessa, or whatever big bads are out there—they don't scare us. We're here to take this city back. You got that?"

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

A thunderous chorus of "Hoorah!" erupted from the Marines, their spirits bolstered.

From the shadows of the Pelican, a massive figure emerged. His green armor gleamed dully under the interior lights, the unmistakable mark of a living legend. Master Chief stepped forward, cradling his M4A0, his visor reflecting the dim glow of the ship's console. He moved with the calm precision of a warrior who had seen countless battles—and won them all.

Johnson turned to him, grinning around his cigar. "You ready for this, Chief? Or do you need a little more pep talk?"

Master Chief, ever the man of few words, checked his weapon with a smooth, practiced motion. Then he looked at Johnson and delivered his line with icy confidence.

"Let's finish the fight."

The Pelicans roared forward, their engines cutting through the air like the swords of retribution, while Jinx's blimp descended, its chaos and color contrasting with the grim determination of the Marines. The battle for Piltover was about to explode into a symphony of madness and heroism.

The blimp hovered above the battlefield like a neon omen of chaos, Jinx's relentless techno music blasting out across the war-torn streets. Below, the Noxian soldiers quickly fell into disciplined lines, their shields locking together with precision. Ambessa Medarda barked orders, her commanding tone cutting through the din.

"Get in line!" she shouted, her voice unwavering even as the skies filled with the silhouettes of Pelicans and Firelights diving from the blimp.

Atriox, standing beside her, glared upward at the descending forces. His glowing red eyes settled on the Pelicans and the bright, swirling forms of the Firelights. His growl was guttural, a sound of disdain mixed with anticipation.

"Marines," he muttered, the word a venomous growl as he turned and began walking toward the thick of the battle.

Ambessa's eyes narrowed as she watched him leave. "Where are you going?" she demanded.

Atriox didn't respond. He strode forward with unflinching purpose, his gravity hammer dragging against the ground with a menacing scrape. His only focus was the destruction of those who dared challenge him.

The Firelights leaped from the edges of the blimp, their movements fluid and fearless. Green energy radiated from their hoverboards, propelling them through the air in spiraling arcs. Leading the charge was Ekko, as he dove toward the ground, his board leaving a green streak in his wake.

The Noxian soldiers, a mix of disciplined infantry and enhanced shock troops, moved into their formation. Behind the first line of shields came a second row armed with newly issued assault rifles, provided by Raul Menendez's technological enhancements. Ambessa raised her hand high, her expression fierce.

"Fire!" she commanded.

A hail of bullets erupted from the Noxian line, their firepower now a blend of traditional strength and cutting-edge lethality. The assault rifles spat a continuous stream of rounds toward the descending Firelights.

One of the Noxian soldiers hoisted an RPG, aiming it at the Pelicans circling overhead. The missile streaked through the air with a fiery trail, but the skilled pilots evaded it with practiced maneuvers, the Pelicans banking sharply to avoid the explosion.

Through the smoke and chaos, another force emerged—a throng of Zaunites, led by Sevika, her mechanical arm gleaming with lethal potential. At her side were the people of Zaun, their makeshift weapons and raw defiance a testament to their unyielding spirit. They surged forward, meeting the Noxian soldiers head-on.

Behind them, an eclectic group of warriors joined the fray. Bangalore, with her precision and tactical prowess, called out commands while laying down smoke to disorient the Noxians.

Alex Mason and Frank Woods worked in perfect sync, their decades of combat experience showing in every shot they fired. Danse, clad in his massive power armor, charged through enemy lines, shrugging off gunfire like rain.

Tracer blinked into action, her dual pulse pistols delivering pinpoint accuracy. Octane, a blur of speed and adrenaline, zipped around the battlefield, leaving chaos in his wake. Viper, cold and calculated, unleashed her toxic arsenal to sow confusion among the enemy ranks.

From the shadows, Arbiter emerged, his energy sword igniting with a hum, cutting through Noxian soldiers with brutal efficiency. And then there was Ezio Auditore, a ghost in the melee, dispatching foes with the elegance of centuries of Assassin training.

Atriox turned back toward his brutes, his voice booming with command.

"Slaughter them! Show them no mercy!" he roared.

The brutes answered with guttural cries, their immense forms charging forward with terrifying ferocity. Some wielded gravity hammers that shook the earth with every swing, while others opened fire with alien rifles. The battlefield became a swirling chaos of green energy trails, gunfire, and clashing steel.

The clash between these disparate forces was a symphony of chaos and fury. Every faction fought with everything they had, the ground trembling beneath the weight of war, the skies alive with the promise of reinforcements and devastation. In the heart of it all, the fate of Piltover hung precariously in the balance.

• • • • •

Moments later, the battlefield roared with chaos, but a new, chilling threat emerged from the depths of Piltover's Hexgate. From the shadows of the buildings, white machines crawled upward like malevolent spiders, their movements precise and mechanical. Their glistening, smooth frames reflected the chaos below as they climbed toward the rooftop. One of the machines grabbed an unsuspecting Enforcer by the chin. The man froze, his struggles ceasing as his eyes turned a milky white, a trance overtaking him as the machine manipulated his mind.

Vi, standing nearby, saw the horror unfold. Her fists clenched, her gauntlets sparking as she prepared to act. Before she could intervene, a massive shadow fell over her.

A figure, hulking and grotesque, stepped forward from the smoke—a beast incarnate of gold and gray, its body a terrifying blend of raw muscle and metal. Her breath caught as recognition hit her like a freight train.

Vander.

Her eyes widened in disbelief seeing him once more.

But there was no time for reflection. Vander, now twisted into a monstrous form, lunged at her with brute force. Vi barely managed to sidestep, his massive fist slamming into the ground where she had stood moments before. The impact sent a shockwave that cracked the cobblestones beneath them.

Before Vander could attack again, a volley of bullets rained down on him. The rounds ricocheted harmlessly off his golden frame. He snarled, his head snapping sharply toward the source of the gunfire.

From above, a familiar voice rang out. "Vi!"

Vi's head snapped up to see Jinx on her blimp, leaning over the edge and firing wildly to cover her sister.

Vander, undeterred, snapped his head towards Jinx. His monstrous strength propelled him upward as he climbed the side of the building with shocking speed. His massive hands crushed brick and stone as he ascended, his eyes locked on Jinx's blimp. With a final leap, Vander hurled himself toward it, the sheer force of his jump shaking the air.

From the other side, Ekko arrived just in time, his hoverboard cutting through the chaos as he signaled Vi.

Vi sprinted toward the edge of the building, but before she could reach Ekko, another figure descended with terrifying power. Atriox.

The alien warlord slammed his gravity hammer into the ground, the impact halting Vi in her tracks. Dust and debris flew everywhere as Atriox straightened, his towering form casting a shadow over her.

The white machines, undeterred by the chaos, skittered closer. Their insect-like forms unnerved even Atriox, who swung his hammer in a wide arc, obliterating the nearest ones with reckless fury. Their shattered pieces flew across the battlefield. He snarled, his irritation growing.

Turning his attention back to Vi, Atriox sneered. "Where do you think you're going, human?" His voice was deep and mocking, filled with menace. He raised his hammer high above his head, ready to crush her.

Suddenly, a Pelican soared overhead, its thrusters roaring as it descended rapidly. From the open hatch, Master Chief emerged. With the precision of a seasoned warrior, Chief leaped from the ship, his massive frame propelled by years of Spartan training.

Mid-air, Chief delivered a powerful knee strike to Atriox's face. The blow was enough to stagger even the monstrous brute. Atriox stumbled back, shaking his head as if to clear the stars from his vision.

Master Chief landed smoothly, rolling to absorb the impact, and immediately turned to Vi. His voice was firm and commanding, cutting through the chaos. "Stop him. Now."

Vi nodded, her determination reigniting. She turned on her heel and sprinted back toward the Hexgate, heading inside to stop Vander and save Jinx from his monstrous wrath.

Atriox straightened, his glowing red eyes narrowing as he growled low in his throat. The imposing Spartan stood before him, his weapon raised and ready. Atriox flexed his fingers, gripping his gravity hammer tightly. His voice was laced with disdain and dark amusement.

"So," Atriox rumbled, "if it isn't the Spartan. You dare challenge me?"

Master Chief tilted his head slightly, his visor reflecting Atriox's monstrous form. His tone was calm, devoid of fear.

"This ends here."

The two titans faced off, the battlefield momentarily still as the weight of their impending clash filled the air.