Concussive Blows
Sudenly, the ground started shaking. Still, only Malcolm was paying some attention to that detail. Aatrox's bloodlust was directing his eyes towards the ongoing battle, while Darkwill and LeBlanc were still talking.
- It's all over now, LeBlanc. -said Tahm Kench.- Or should I say... Anyssa?
She didn't dare answer. She was too weak, yet she hadn't been hurt.
No, that was not true. She had been hurt, but in such a fashion that she had never known before. She had lost something she had valued nearly as much as her own life. She had witnessed the one existence that she had considered truly beautiful vanish in front of her.
...
She was the one to blame. If she had done everything right he would surely be alive now. If she had not left so suddenly, if she had dedicated some words to him before departing, only then, maybe the things would have worked out differently. But she hadn't.
Without knowing it, without meaning it in any way, she had killed the one and only man she had loved. Tears were streaming down her face, her heart pounding as fast as it could, her cries being drowned by coughs and her life being drained by grief.
Lux's existence was slowly vanishing from Riven's body, disappearing, turned into nothing but a void in the Noxian woman's mind.
...
Riven pitied the girl, but she was somewhat happy of being back in control of herself. She was clumsy, nearly unable to walk. It was needless to say that she was unable of correctly wielding her blade.
After some seconds of staring at the Piltovian man's corpse, Riven realized that she pitied him. She had never known him, but she blamed the remains of Lux's mind in her body for the mixed feelings.
She tried to wake up, but she couldn't; she was exhausted.
She was about to faint, as close as a person can be to surrendering to sleep, when she heard his voice.
Revenge was the only thing that could get such a dead woman back on her feet.
...
-Now that I think of it, you're lacking some scars, don't you? -mockingly asked Darkwill.
-Get lost into the voids, Malcolm. -spitted Darius.
-You could lose a finger or two... -said Malcolm while holding Darius' right hand.
He couldn't move. It didn't matter how hard he tried; there was something holding him, something that he could not see. Something that, even if familiar, was unknown to him.
-You could take a hand too, Malcolm.-added a weird face that had suddenly emerged from Darius' cheek.-Or both, no matter what I'm quite sure that you would not have enough with it.
-You're right in that, Aalcox. -replied Darkwill.-An arm shall suffice for now.
Aalcox; after listening that name he lost all hope that was left. He tried to fight the darkin's powers with a rage that until that day had been unknown to Runeterra, but it wasn't enough.
He was about to give up when she saw a woman walking towards them. Her blade was getting bigger and bigger while she approached; he could feel the air current shaking the ground he was laying upon, making his cloak dance with the wind.
The look on the face Darius was seeing was not the one of the hybrid monster that Malcolm had created years ago; Riven was back.
And she was thirsty; only the sweetest of revenges would bring peace back to her heart.
...
Riven was tired, but it didn't matter. She had been waiting for years, looking, confined in a cell built into her own body, at how that demon strangled all her hopes while he used all the Noxian people Riven had once valued. He had got them all killed; the few that left his grasp alive had died in Zaun's Mental Institute years ago during the final battle with Piltover, when the whole city was razed by Piltovian soldiers and Zaun's madmen themselves.
She dashed once and noticed that Malcolm now knew she was there, but she didn't care; she rushed the distance that divided them and slashed with all her fury, attempting to cut him in two.