บท 2270: Chapter 77: 6-12 Omen
Omen 6.12
Andy Yusung Kim
2001, December 25: Washington, DC
The darkness I found myself in was unlike the other spirit visions. I could feel the dirt beneath my feet and the crunching of branches and leaves, but there was not a single identifying mark, something to tell me where on Runeterra I was. With my enchanted eyes, I could see that I was in some type of forest, but the canopy was so overgrown that not a single speck of light passed through the gaps.
It was in that inky darkness I heard two voices. One was that of a woman, haunting and melodic in its serenity. The other was masculine, with a deep, bestial growl that spoke of hunger and the thrill of the hunt.
"A guest," the beast rumbled.
"My, you've kept us waiting, He Who Inspires," came the woman's voice. It had been years since I heard her voice and the voice actress failed to do her justice, but she was impossible to misidentify. She and her partner stepped out from behind a tree, their eyes shining with an eerie green light.
Some called them Ina and Ani, others Farya and Wolyo. Still others referred to them simply as the Lamb and the Wolf, the Eternal Hunters.
All who bore the Mask Mother's gift could be counted amongst the Kindred, but they were the two who came to mind. Across Valoran, from Ionia to Demacia, from the Freljord to Piltover and Zaun, they were known. They were unique in that unlike their brethren, their legend crossed every people and culture and tongue. They weren't just aspects, they were paragons.
"Lamb. Wolf," I greeted respectfully. I had hoped for this. I met each and every one of the Kindred, but had yet to greet the two most iconic. More than any other, more than even the Mask Mother, they were the two I was most familiar with, and so the two whose power I sought to borrow.
Shimmering light shone from her bow, illuminating her snow-white fur in waves of haunting blue. Her mask, the mask of the Wolf, hid soulful green eyes. Just behind, I could see shadows curling as though alive. Where the Lamb went, the Wolf was not far behind.
"You know us."
"I do."
"Yet you would seek to become like us?"
"If it means gaining the power to survive what's coming? In a heartbeat. Please, give me the strength to protect."
This time, it was the Wolf who spoke. His voice was growling and rasping, though with an undercurrent of curiosity. "All lights fade, little flame."
"So you've all taught me. But that doesn't mean they are meaningless. Each transient life gives meaning unto itself. I want to give them time."
"You seek to delay the inevitable," Lamb warned.
"Is that monstrosity out there a part of destiny? The entities? The endbringers? This twisted Cycle of suffering and misery? I refuse. I refuse to believe that this is how things ought to be. Death is a part of life, but I'll decide what form it takes. And if this is what the Grand Tapestry is, then I'll tear it apart and weave something anew," I spoke heatedly. I held out my hand and presented Isolde to them, hilt first. "Will you help me?"
"You would greet every flame?"
"If that's what it takes."
The Lamb faltered at the conviction in my voice. The Wolf looked down at me, his hunger curbed aside for the moment. I was reminded that once, they were one. They became the hunters not out of necessity, but desire for companionship. "Will… Will you walk by our side?"
"So long as you walk by mine. A piece of you. A part of me. Until my soul passes on. Perhaps a thousand years, perhaps until the very stars burn to cosmic dust."
She glanced at her partner. They spoke without words and with a nod, came to an agreement. Gingerly, she placed a hand on mine, grasping at my chosen weapon. "I am Farya, the Educated Lamb of Light."
"I, Wolyo, the Great Black Wolf."
"I am Yusung, Wielder of the Rune of Inspiration."
"Then let two become three."
As soon as those words left her mouth, I could feel my soul shift and change. It wasn't quite as painful as a Keystone, but I couldn't help the gasp that tore itself through gritted teeth. When the pain subsided, I could feel them lodged within my soul, a room not dissimilar to the altar where the World Rune shone. I knew then that I could call upon them. They, this singular iteration of the Kindred, were a part of me as I was a part of them.
The wolf snarled a mocking grin. "A gift. A hunt."
"Let us delight in the chase," Lamb whispered as the two began to fade from the darkness. Faded, but not gone. Somewhere within my soul, I heard her. "For ours will be a magnificent song."
X
When I came to, I glanced down at my phone to see that only a single minute had passed. The capes, both those local and those who'd just arrived, gave me a wide berth. My eyes were glowing a haunting green, just like Lamb's. Anivia's Grace was covered with hoarfrost and spikes of ice gathered around me. Every crevice and fold of my cloak cast an unnaturally dark shadow and the Hallowed Mist wafted from Isolde to form an impassible curtain around my person.
Nest to me, hazy mirages of the Lamb and Wolf took shape from the mist. If Anivia was a vision of nature's majesty, they were its finality. They were the unknowable, the lurking shadows that made early man draw near the campfire.
The biggest change was the mana itself. Normally, magic wasn't something people could feel, especially in this magic-starved world. Most people saw my creations and thought, "fantasy tinker with trump-like effects." There was no way for these same people to bridge the gap between their misconceptions and the magic of the Kindred that flowed from me.
To them, I must have felt like death. There was no other word for it. There was an aura of finality that clung to me. It triggered every alarm in their lizard brains and screamed that approaching me would be the end. Mine was more than the fear aura Victoria Dallon would be known for. This, this was existential dread, the kind that came from meeting a concept given form, an entity both inescapable and utterly alien to the human mind.
I found my own perspective shifting. Death is a part of life, an end to the struggle, a door to a new adventure. A sixth sense bloomed as I became intimately aware of every single thing that lived in the city. From the least significant rat to Hero ushering the presidential cabinet through his Wayfinder. They shone like candles, flickering flames that danced in the breeze.
It was overwhelming.
Suddenly becoming aware of every living thing in my vicinity was like being thrust into the center of a tornado. If I hadn't started my life here with the Oracle's Elixir, I doubted I'd have been able to remain conscious. As it was, even with my experience with overstimulation, the souls of so many danced around me in a dizzying array.
"Calm yourself," I heard the Lamb whisper. "You are Kindred now. Those who live are of no concern of ours."
I took a fortifying breath and drew on the Mask. It acted as a medium between me and the Kindred. I let their presence overtake my awareness, removing some of the strain of my new abilities. "Holy shit… Is this… Is this what you normally see?"
"This and more. You cannot wield our power for long, nor can we leave your side."
I nodded before popping my slew of pills. They weren't much before an endbringer, but I'd take every advantage and be grateful for it. Hopefully, a sturdier body would help me sustain them long enough to make a difference. "Yeah, let's go."
"Aerobat deceased," came the call from my bracelet just as one soul was snuffed out.
I put the voice out of mind and ran, straight up into the air. I left behind footprints of cloud and frosted mist. Soon, we were above the rooftops of the Pentagon City neighborhood. I looked out over the Potomac River and Theodore Roosevelt Island and I couldn't help but marvel at the view.
"I've never been this high up before."
"Gawk later," the Wolf growled. "There is a hunt to be had!"
Power filled me, along with the restless anticipation of the more bestial of the pair. I rushed forward, and it wasn't until I heard the bang of collapsing air behind me that I realized I'd shattered the sound barrier.
"Holy shit," I gasped.
More souls were snuffed out. A moment later, the robotic voice of Masamune's communicator spoke, "Thunder Rex deceased. Runtime deceased. Diamondtooth down. Tankmorph down."
"You have much to do if you wish to stop the false angel," Lamb urged. Her footsteps were light. She ran on nothing and I could feel the souls of the dying reach towards her, like flowers chasing the sun.
"Yeah, let's go." Newly determined, I poured the Kindred's power into my legs.
"Why do you run?"
"Not the time for philosophical lessons, Lamb."
Deep in my soul, she did something. I got the impression of her twisting her bow just so, followed by an almost playful nudge. Then, another soul was snuffed out.
I didn't hear the announcement. I couldn't. It was as though everyone around me had vanished, leaving just me and this newly deceased soul. A connection formed between us, tethering us. Had Kirin White teleported the corpse to the moon or Doormaker whisked it away to some other earth, I would have known. Nothing and no one could part me from this soul for here in this moment, I was death. I was their psychopomp, their guide to the next life.
"All that lives is our domain. How much more so then, all who are ready to pass? We are the Eternal Hunters, dear friend," her ghostly voice soothed the tension caused by the alienness of her power. Then, her voice became raw, vicious, in a way I'd only associated with the Wolf before. "The Mark has been bestowed. Let us hunt!"
Knowledge. Experience. Memories. The essence of the Kindred, everything that made them the boogeymen of Valoran welled up from my soul and I knew that for however long I could wear this Mask, they would fight by my side.
Death was everywhere. And now, so was I. With the slightest flex of my newfound power, I stood over the mangled body of a woman dressed in gray spandex with a stylized owl as her emblem Her head had been caved in, presumably from the fall, but the opaque visor and cut of her outfit was unmistakable.
'Pity she could only copy Becky's outfit,' I thought grimly. Behind me, the Ymelo shone a brilliant blue and I felt its warmth wash away the fear and sorrow. The closer to the song I was, the brighter it burned. It reminded me a bit of a lighthouse that lit the way on stormy nights.
Now that I was closer to the action, I took stock of everything going on.
The Simurgh floated above the Capitol Building, seemingly not having moved at all. There was a swarm of debris around her that reminded me of the rings of Saturn. Floating in front of her was an oversized device that looked like a cross between a tuning fork and a microphone. She hovered there, like some kind of eldritch pop star holding a concert that no one asked for.
Six stereos hovered around her person. They were shaped like hexagons and stood thrice as tall as a grown man. I frowned. Bluesong's tech was made to help people, to make people laugh. Her work was critical to the establishment of a sonar network that kept tabs on Leviathan. Watching it be used to mask the Simurgh's song made me furious.
The Ymelo blazed bright and I turned away. I could see Legend, Alexandria, and Eidolon leading their strike teams. As much as I wanted to join them, my attention was claimed by what was happening on the ground.
I didn't know if the Simurgh was jobbing or there was some protocol in place to make sure Eidolon could look his best, but she only began singing after she finished building her speakers. To the best of my knowledge, that meant I still had something in the ballpark of twenty-five, twenty-seven minutes before I had to forcibly lock down the Worldstone Network.
It was inevitable. Someone, somewhere would get left behind. But until that very last second, I swore I'd keep the portals open. That meant saving as many as I could.
I leapt towards the nearest group of civilians before grabbing one in each arm and taking to the skies. An instant later, I was at the closest evacuation point, this one managed by Metalmaru. A squadron of PRT officers held up a barricade as they ushered people in.
"Evacuate in an orderly fashion!" the captain shouted into a megaphone. "Do not run! You will get through!"
It was like trying to shout down a stampede. Herd mentality had fully set in. By now, the reality of a third endbringer had fully set in and they were panicking. That panic turned into a riot that the squad of PRT agents were hard pressed to stop even with the Elixir of Iron to help them out. They were being pushed back by the sheer desperation of the crowd.
I realized that picking people up manually was a mistake. I landed in front of the portal and shoved them through as quickly as I could before facing the crowd. My deathly aura was at least good for drawing attention.
"Hyunmu? What the hell are you doing here?" Metalmaru shouted over the din.
"Cooling them off."
I clapped my hands, forming a flurry of ice in my palms. It was not Anivia's Grace, I had no intention of killing them all. I just wanted to shock them out of their stupor in the same way riot police used water cannons and pepper spray. Once herd mentality kicked in, people followed crowds until presented with a strong enough negative stimulus that broke them from this mentality.
A localized hailstorm certainly sufficed.
"Get the crowd under control, Metal," I barked. The haunting echoes of the Mask brought him up short, stopping any burgeoning argument.
Before he could respond, I jumped into the air and extended Isolde, smashing aside a falling car with Wrath-assisted strength. I deployed my familiars, hextech golems in the shape of dragonflies, and began to scout the area.
The Kindred allowed me to see life, but not the specifics of ongoing crises. I almost wished I hadn't. The Simurgh gathered the dust and debris made by Legend's explosive lasers and fired them at the ground below. It was like watching a hail of arrows and I felt one of the Wayfinders wink out as Outreach's death was announced.
How many dozens died in that one attack? How many thousands would now riot as they made their way for the nearest portal?
I cheered with the rest when the first of six stereos were broken by a well-placed salvo of lasers from Legend and Eidolon.
Then, the Simurgh tossed out her arm like an imperious queen and titanic screech filled the air. The sound of tortured rebar and shattering concrete pillars was unmistakable. Before, she'd picked at the Madhouse. Now, she ripped the whole thing off the ground in a terrifying demonstration of telekinetic power.
I did my best to keep track of what was going on even as I stood above Metalmaru's evacuation point deflecting incoming hazards from the public. I used the Hallowed Mist that Isolde created like a veil, but even I couldn't keep some from bypassing me altogether.
The expanded range of the drones allowed me to peak into the Madhouse.
"Shit," I swore. Not even three minutes and things were already going to hell in a handbasket. I tapped my comms bracelet and shouted, "Target the Madhouse. She's building something inside!"
No reply came, but I saw Alexandria veering off, leading her squad of flying bricks in V-formation like a flock of geese.
I looked down towards Metalmaru and the Wayfinder portal. Even now, an endless stream of civilians were rushing to evacuate. Metalmaru was good, but he was a support-oriented tinker and area denial wasn't his strong suit. If I left, the people would be vulnerable, but I could see the Simurgh making something using Pyro's tech in the Madhouse.
I frowned and pulled my relic pistol before shooting down another incoming barrage, this time a shopping cart and some street signs of all things. The telekinetic winds picked up and I drew Isolde before spinning it like a helicopter blade. The Hallowed Mist bloomed out, forming a shield above the people. I could feel the Kindred stir restlessly.
"If you kill her, this would all be over," Wolf growled.
"Can' you kill her before they all die?"
Silence was my answer. I could leave, chase the Simurgh in the hopes of landing that one critical strike, but… but it'd mean leaving them behind. Cauldron was about the greater good, sacrifice the few for the many. They clung so desperately to that ideology that no sacrifice became too great.
I didn't want to end up like that. I remembered why I was so hellbent on mass producing potions, why I bothered with the Worldstone Network. The whole reason for joining an endbringer fight, for donning the Mask, was so I could buy these people time. Time to leave. Time to live.
"They will have time if she dies."
He wasn't wrong there either. But what if I wasn't good enough? I had no delusions that I was as powerful as the Kindred were in Valoran. This wasn't Valoran. Like Anivia, they were diminished. The thought that I'd get in the way, or worse, get myself killed and waste the power granted to me, paralyzed me.
Just as I was looking for anything I could do, a stone wall twelve feet tall rose up out of the ground. Brickhouse hurled himself over it with a pilar, landing a few feet to my left. It was the sight of a familiar face that drew me back to the present.
"Hyunmu!"
"Brickhouse, what the hell are you doing here?"
"I should be asking you that! Who is the sheepgirl?"
I shook my head as the Ymelo blazed. It didn't matter. My doubts didn't matter. Someone else had arrived to protect them. My choice was made for me. "Cover the civilians!" I shouted back as I jumped up towards my old lab.
He was about to chase after me, Jonathan always did have a strong big brother vibe, but had to dodge out of the way as two flying capes careened into the spot where he'd just been.
"Thunderbird deceased. Majestique deceased," our bracelets read out in mechanical synchro.
I ignored it all and pulled out the mass accelerator. My right pauldron twisted outward into a semblance of an outstretched wing as I alighted on a rooftop for balance. I sheathed Isolde into its holster and swapped the relic pistol to my dominant hand.
One of my dragonfly drones had made it near the Madhouse, giving me better vision inside. One look had me swearing under my breath.
This was bad. I had no greater insight into the works of my fellows than anyone else, but some of what the Simurgh was messing with had been explained to me. I remembered Bluesong and Zero Day chatting amicably over lunch about their ocean detection program: her sonar, his programming.
I remembered Pyro bragging that some of his dumbed down designs were being used to inspire automobile manufacturers, his work helping to pioneer expensive, but hyper-efficient engines. I remembered his gun turrets that, while not as good at dealing with esoteric defenses as Hero's, could easily outperform any conventional firearm several times over. I remembered Glace and her frosted mirrors, defenses she hoped could reflect all sorts of energy projectiles.
All of this and more I couldn't recognize off the cuff were being mashed together and it didn't bode well.
Outside, Alexandria and her team were bashing their way against the walls, but their progress was too slow. The Madhouse was built to contain some of the best tinkers in the country along with tech confiscated from major criminals and its security reflected that. Every time Alexandria peeled apart a set of blast doors like an onion, the Simurgh would turn the box like a Rubik's Cube or bat her aside to a different section of the building, presenting her with a more fortified face.
I lined up my shot and allowed myself a grim smile as my mana leapt to my hand. Behind me, my wing began to glow as the mana coiled tightly. Up above, I targeted whatever looked most important. It was a type of fabricator, one that seemingly chewed up its surroundings to manufacture drones. Already, a dozen of them were buzzing inside the Madhouse, a line of superheated plasma stretching between them like a net.
"I have a bead on the Madhouse," I spoke with two taps into the bracelet. "The Simurgh has a drone-maker inside. Every drone has some of Pyrotechnical's tech."
I saw Alexandria lock eyes with me a second later. A second later, her voice came through my comms. "I see you. Take the shot, Hyunmu."
Even as we spoke, more of the interior was consumed, resulting in more drones. She was up to twenty-eight now and rapidly growing her army.
"Understood. Curtain Call in four. Three. Two. One."
The superheated plasma was unlike anything else I'd fired before. I saw the air around me begin to shimmer, such was the residual heat given off by my magical coilgun. The heat licked at me but Anivia's Grace was more than up to the task of keeping me insulated. Even so, the gun was more than heat; it was force too. The kickback nearly toppled me and if it weren't for the counterweights built into the wing, I didn't doubt that my ass would be on the ground. As it was, my foot dug deep furrows into the rooftop.
The Lamb stared at the gun curiously and I wondered what she made of it.
The beam that exited my relic pistol was several times as wide as my normal light bullets. It was almost as wide as I was tall, though to be fair that wasn't saying much. So fast was it that there was no delay between me pulling the trigger and the beam ripping a hole through the Madhouse walls, clear through the fabricator.
I grinned as I saw it fall apart. My attack had pierced what I could guess was its memory bank. Even if it could make more drones, they would be empty husks, lacking the complex programming necessary to operate independently. There wasn't a cool, dramatic explosion like from a Saturday morning cartoon, but I'd take what I could get.
"Fabricator down. Thirty drones remaining. Do not come between two drones; they've got Pyro's thermal lance configured between them."
"Understood, how many more rounds do you have?"
"Three."
The robotic voice of the bracelet's AI interrupted us. "Master Muscle deceased."
"Idiot," I heard Alexandria swear. It made me smile darkly to hear her swear. "Is there anything else in the lab you should break?"
I thought about it. "Maybe. I'm not familiar with everything my peers built."
"Keep an eye on it."
"Roger."
I saw the brute squad withdraw from the Madhouse and rejoin the fight for the sky.
X
Olivia Turner
'Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck,' I thought as I flew through the sky. I wasn't ready for this. I just… I wasn't ready.
I remembered two months ago when I graduated into the Protectorate. The director asked me if I'd be willing to volunteer for the crisis response team now that I was a full-time hero. I felt so goddamn proud when he clasped me on the shoulder and said I could do great things. Like the fucking cocky brat I was, I said yes. I did the one thing everyone told me I should never do: I bought into my own hype.
The branding. The PR. I was Philadelphia's best flygirl. I was a blaster who could make glaciers on demand. People compared me to Legend.
I let out a hysterical laugh as the greatest blaster in the world duked it out with the new endbringer. A set of explosions made my teeth clatter. I couldn't even get close to that dogfight without feeling my bones creak from the shockwaves.
Legend-lite? Like fucking hell I was. Just being in his vicinity was enough to make me fear for my life.
The world exploded around me for the millionth time and I shrieked as I tossed a fractal in front of me. It bloomed into a cocoon around me, shielding me from the worst of the blast. And then, I dropped.
I couldn't do this. When I graduated, I was sworn in like every other Protectorate hero. I swore on my honor, before God Almighty, to never betray my integrity. To be brave. To protect the public. To uphold the values of my community. To defend the Constitution.
I thought I was ready. When Chevalier called the crisis response team to arms, I stood proud with the rest of the team. So proud. So fucking naïve.
Another terrified laugh tore itself from my throat as tears stung my eyes. God, I was such a fucking idiot.
I felt myself crash down onto some park fountain, my supernaturally tough ice chipping away at the decorative statue. I uncurled and found that I was near one of those evacuation points.
A barrage of debris rained down and a boy in white jumped onto a cloud before spinning a pair of oversized scissors like helicopter blades. A wall of mist and ice that reminded me of my own power formed to deflect the rain away from the evacuating civilians. Next to him, a wolf's head and some kind of lamb Case-53 danced among the barrage, a seemingly endless rain of arrows shooting debris out of the air.
"Hyunmu!" I heard someone shout. Was that his name? He was either a midget or younger than my baby brother. What the hell was someone like that doing here? He had to be a local, too brave to know better.
"Brickhouse, what the hell are you doing here?" I heard him shout back. His voice had a weird cadence to it, echoes that seemed to amplify in the weird mist.
The one he was shouting at was someone about my age. He was a beefy boy with brick masonry for armor. With a stomp and grunt of exertion, a wall of cement rose up from the ground to provide the people shelter.
"I should be asking you that!"
I didn't catch whatever Hyunmu said as he darted off somewhere. Instead, I was forced to take a long, hard look at myself. He didn't choose this, some local Ward stuck in a fight for his life. I did. I… I couldn't do anything up there but… as I looked around at Brickhouse's shelters, I firmed my resolve.
This. This, I could do.
I shot into the sky and allowed ice fractals to form in my palms. I didn't need to fight an endbringer; there were lives to save.
My first shot struck the ground at the far edge of the crowd, forming a glacier of ice that stretched as wide as a city block. Subsequent bolts of ice formed a giant, multi-layered shell. I heard the people let out a collective sigh of relief and allowed myself a proud smile.
Maybe, maybe I could do this after all…
Author's Note
Remember, this all takes place within the first five minutes of the fight.
Yes, making Andy a trio with the Kindred was always part of the plan. Their abilities are never quite elaborated upon so it'll be my take on what a "death god" should be able to do, but having the Lamb and Wolf show up on a regular basis as Andy's partners was always the goal.
Olivia Turner is Rime if that wasn't obvious. There isn't a civilian name for her, so I just made one. She's most commonly associated with Los Angeles, but she actually was a member of the Philadelphia Protectorate with Chevalier before taking over for Alexandria. The oath she's talking about is also one commonly attributed to the police.
For better or worse, a lot of public offices have people swear before God. "With God as my witness…" "So help me God…"
In Taylor's time, Rime, alongside Exalt and Chevalier, were some of the capes that could have led the fight against Behemoth in New Delhi. This is obviously a very different Rime. She had to have gotten that experience somehow after all.
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