Una mañana apurada.

Abrió apurado el cajón y sacó el dado que había estado buscando; seis caras con los números del 2 al 7, puntas bien definidas y esa pequeña fractura en uno de los bordes de cuando se le cayó escaleras abajo. Rápidamente, como si lo escondiese de alguien, se lo guardó en el bolsillo.

Entonces empezó a revolver el armario, buscando aquella camisa que había usado el 24 de junio de 2002 para ir a buscar a Marie al aeropuerto y después acompañarla al Café Luna para tomar dos cortados y un croissant recién hecho. Aunque no paraba de revolver el armario no era capaz de encontrarla; su camisa de cuadros, verde y rosa, no estaba en ningún lado.

Entonces se acordó que la había puesto a lavar hace el día anterior, fue a buscarla a la terraza, donde la ropa estaba tendida, y allí la encontró. En el mismo sitio se la puso y, sin los pantalones, fue corriendo hacia la cocina a prepararse un café.

Solo tres gotas cayeron de la máquina a la taza una vez que estaba ya preparado lo que sería su desayuno; solo permitía que cayeran tres gotas, siempre. Una vez habían caído cuatro y había tenido que tirar el café por el fregadero. No le gustaba lo de tirar comida, pero no podía beberse un café en el que habían caído cuatro gotas.

Volvió a la habitación y se puedo ágilmente los primeros pantalones que encontró, unos algo raídos que estaban sobre la silla (una que había heredado de la tía Clotilde hace 4 años y 7 meses), se calzó tan rápidamente como pudo y volvió a la cocina; solo había tardado 53 segundos, así que todavía estaba a tiempo de ver como el café llegaba a su punto.

Y se quedó observándolo.

Ocho...

Siete...

Seis...

Cinco...

Cuatro...

Tres...

Dos...

Uno...

Y entonces cogió el café y se lo bebió casi de un solo trago. Volvió a su habitación, cogió el maletín beige que había reposando al costado de su cama y salió disparado hacia la puerta. Miró por la mirilla dos veces antes de sacar la llave que tenía, desde hace ya algún tiempo, guardada en el bolsillo de aquel pantalón. Entonces metió la llave, la giró dos veces en sentido contrario a las agujas del reloj, una a favor, miró por la mirilla una vez más y después acabó de abrir la puerta.

The Fall: 44. Tempered Fates

Tempered Fates

-He will come, Sona. I have that certainty. -calmly said Taric while his eyes dove deep into the infinity that extended in front of them.

Sona didn't know how the tower worked; they were supposed to have left Runeterra once and for all, yet there laid it in its whole extension. Again and again, when it looked like land should end and the seas would drown it all, a different Runeterra started to lay upon them. "Time is strange. Everything related to time is." Taric had said years ago.

...

-And this tower is not an exception; look at the clocks.- he continued.-Look at the automated calendars.

But she didn't dare; there was something in the hundreds of thousands of clocks that covered the walls of the room that made her feel uneasy. The calendars, cylinders tall as the fiercest Noxian warrior and as thick as wide were a Xer'Sai's tunnels, were constantly spinning. But that was not the strangest thing; they all spinned, yet they did it at different speeds, just like the clocks ticked.

When she stopped to think about it the noise would become unbearable, but the truth was that when you were focused into the beautiful and unexplainable thing that laid upon her eyes you'd lose track of your current location; there were things that looked way more interesting than a constant ticking.

-Have you looked at the clocks? Have you noticed the calendars? -Taric asked, breaking the systematical ticking noise of the clocks. -They mark different dates and times.

Sona didn't understand why it mattered; anyone could use a calendar and modify its date. But she didn't dare express the tiniest bit of what she thought, because she knew that there had to be something more to it.

-They are all different, I know it. But... -Taric's right hand dived into the pocket of the jacket he had been given by the Yordles after their arrival and took something out of it.-The weird thing, Sona, is that my pocket watch, my grandfather's watch, matches all of them. It is always in time with the one clock I'm staring at.

...

-I told you he would come.-said Taric, with his finger pointing at the giant glass window that was in front of them.- There's his trail.

...

It was dark and silent.

He was not sure if that was the right way to describe it, because it wasn't just dark and silent. He could feel nothing. No grass being folded at the weight of his steps, no weapon at his hands. He didn't even really know if he had hands at all, and he couldn't even tell if he was walking or if he was simply thinking about walking.

It was truly dark, and the silence was the only companion that Malcolm had in that bottle.

...

Riven's slash hit nothing but the ground.

Hundred of little yellow beings, which shone as if they were made of gold, dashed away from her, scared by the hit. Darius didn't know what they were, but he somewhat liked the looks of those weird things. At least until they started to surround him; he would have fought against them, but he was powerless. Also, he didn't really care about himself anymore.

...

Shauna saw it all; how the wandering caretaker, character thought to belong to nothing but fairy tales, came down from the sky. With him descended thousands of little golden beings that, if she remembered correctly, her grandmother had called Meeps.

Shauna Vayne sat besides the stone Quinn was lying at.

-Can you see them? -she asked.

-I do.

-Do you think that they took care of Valor as much as they are taking caring of Shyvana now?

No answer came out of Vayne, because she had already fallen asleep to the hug of countless meeps; Quinn shortly followed her.

The Fall: 43. Concussive Blows

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.

The Fall: Snow Day

Snow Day

Her face was cold.

Syndra had not expected the snowball to hit her. She was just walking around the forest that surrounded the country house they had all been invited to. There was too many people inside for her to feel comfortable. There was too much noise, too much warmth and too much drink; in her opinion, that was a horrible combination.

And it was because of that horrible combination that the snowball fight had started. Shen had noticed that she wasn't in the house and, when he went out in order to look after her, most of the people that had beencomfortably eating and drinking inside the building had followed him out.

I hadn't taken long for the battle to break out; Syndra had been hearing the shouts for more than fifteen minutes. Still, she had not expected that a ball would reach her.

Only later she learnt that it wasn't their intention; Shen had already found her and, while the Ionian ninja was walking towards her, Ekko had thrown one of his special snowballs. It hit Shen, but it didn't stop there; it kept on moving and ended up hitting Syndra.

She had been about to scream back then. She hated being touched, no matter what the thing that made contact was, and she cared even less if it was alive or not. But the cold feel of the snowball had brought her down to Valoran again. It was time for fun and joy. It was a time meant for sharing, for loving and laughing. And that was what she definitely wanted to do.

But then the snowball, the very same snowball that Ekko had thrown seconds ago, hit her again, now in the back of her head.

...

Annie had seen it all; the start of the snow battle, the huge Ice castle that had been build by Trundle and Anivia that was now home to a sieging game, Brand's long face and... that event.

Ekko had not expected such an answer from Syndra. Even Shen, that had been hit by Ekko's snowball, had tried to protect him from the upcoming frozen answer from Syndra. But it was not enough; hundreds of snowballs suddenly appeared in front of Syndra, floating, and only a few seconds later they were all flying towards Ekko's face.

She would have loved to protect him; if she had been able to throw Tibbers there he might have blocked some of the snowballs. But she was out of range. Annie saw Yasuo in the ice fortress, who was also frustrated by the impotence, since he was also too far to create a wall and stop the incoming snowballs.

...

No one had expected Tahm Kench to appear there and save the day when everyone thought that Ekko's face was going to be erased by the pressurized ice that was about to hit him.

No one saw him coming; he suddenly appeared under the Zaunite boy's feet and swallowed him whole. Tahm Kench laughed while the Iron Solari locket that he was keeping on his right hand shone as bright as the sun.

Once the rain of snowballs was over, Tahm Kench spit Ekko out of his belly and bowed, just like an artist waiting for the audience's applause.

And the audience delivered.

Dream Journal: 9. Double edged sword

It was weird. I had gone through sleep paralysis before, and quite a lot of times; it is common to experience it when you're starting to try to get back into lucid dreaming. But this time it was being different.

My right arm was the only thing I could move; my left arm was stuck under the blanket, paralyzed, unable to move. I couldn't even close my fist; it was as if my left arm was now nothing but a stone. This first fear struck right through my heart, accelerating it to levels unknown to me. And then it stopped completely.

I panicked; I desperately tried to feel my heartbeats with my right hand, trying to sense something by touching the part of my chest where the heart was supposed to be, rotating between that and the typical place of the neck they tell you to look at, but I could feel nothing. Was I having a heart attack?

That was the first thought that crossed my mind once I realized what was going on. I tried to get my hands onto my mobile phone with the intention of calling someone, be it the emergency number or my very own mother, but I couldn't, it was too far away and I couldn't wake up.

"Is this how I am going to die?" I asked to myself. "Alone in one of the darkest rooms that mankind can conceive? Would my last thoughts drown in the infinite silence that covered the night?"

No.

And then I wake up. Hours later, talking about this with X, a person that is quite close to me, a lot of information suddenly came up; a lot of horrible information.

I never got to know what would have been the consequences of such secrets coming to light, because that was when I actually woke up.

The Fall: 42. The Tear of the Goddess

The Tear of the Goddess

Quinn saw Syndra and pointed her out to Shauna. She had explained it all to her before heading towards the Ionian woman that had brought legions down with nothing but her bare hands and a power that escaped the limits of human condition. Yes, Syndra was powerful, but only when she knew what was coming up to her. The countless legions that had vanished had done a horrible mistake; facing her straight up. They would not do that mistake.

...

Quinn vaulted onto Syndra, who tried to maintain the equilibrium while holding the huge platforms that she was rising for Darkwill. "I need to hold on for a while..." thought Syndra. "He's so close to bringing him back. I'll be safe when he's back." thought before trying to hit Quinn with a sphere.

...

That was when she had to go in;Shauna Vayne tumbled at Syndra's side and shot a heavy silver bolt that pushed her towards the closest tree, stucking her into it. But the Ionian woman didn't stop; even though they were more unstable, the huge pieces of rock were still hanging up in the air.

...

She was cold. Really cold.

Syndra remembered Darkwill's words. "I feel your pain." he had said. Syndra had seen it in Darkwill's eyes; he had also lost a loved one. That one, the only one. He had also lost the one and only person that had understood what he was and accepted it. And, like Syndra, he would do whatever it took for having such a person back.

But she was cold. Her eyes were starting to surrender to the weight of her eye lids and the world was becoming darker. She wanted to hold on, to give Darkwill a chance of having Senna back. And then, when Zed was back, he would save her. He would bring her back from these cold shadows.

She only had to hold on, and wait for him.

...

-Stop it, Vayne! -shouted Quinn.

-Why? -asked Shauna, clearly nervous.- That man is still up there, Lux is about to blow this whole damned place up, and you want me to stop doing the one thing that can save us.

-There's no point on that... -said Quinn.- She's already dead.

...

LeBlanc was feeling horribly. Why had she done such a thing? Why had she wasted her life this way? She could have enjoyed a lifetime with Ezreal, the only man that had dared give his life for her, but no; she had to stop Darkwill. She had to get into whatever he was doing and stop it, because Darkwill could never do good.

But that wasn't the worst part of it; what terrified LeBlanc the most was another feeling that haunted her heart; doubt. What if Darkwill wasn't doing anything wrong? What if it was right to fight for those you loved, no matter what was at stake?

First, she cried. Only then she fell onto Tahm Kench's open mouth.

...

Darkwill fell onto the ground. He didn't know why everything had suddenly shaken so abruptly, and he wasn't given much time to think about it. The ground shook again, and with that he lost control of Lux's mind.

"It doesn't matter." he thought. In only a matter of seconds, Senna would be back, and nothing else would matter then.

...

Lux had no time to stop it.

When she regained consciousness the Final Spark had already been fired. Accompanied by Riven's Wind Slash, the projectile advanced like an unstoppable force towards the lantern that Thresh had given to Darkwill. She saw the woman that Darkwill had called LeBlanc in the projectile's path until the moment when she should have been hit.

Seconds after, she realized that the one that had been hit was Ezreal.

...

There are times when people are not given time to choose. Times when no one is given the chance to calmly face a situation and think what they can do to solve it.

It is during those times that the commonfolk step aside. "I can't save her." said a doctor, far away from the battle at the Plague Jungles, struggling to keep his best friend's daughter alive, trying to help her survive the hit of a stray Avarosan arrow. "I can't defend my homeland." thought an old, old man, far away in time and space, while trying to look for a way of saving Urtistan. "I can't conquer his heart." thought a maven, far away, in a beautiful watchtower that had been built ages ago in the very middle of Bandle City.

It is during these times that heroes appear. When no one dares to try, they show up. That is the only difference between the commonfolk and the few heroes that have stumbled upon our world. That they decided to show up. They decided to act. They decided to show that they did have the willpower to do something.

Two words are enough to turn a common person into a hero: I can.

The Fall: 41. The Final Spark

The Final Spark

-How does it feel bastard? -asked a familiar voice.

That voice turned Darius mad. That could not be him. He had died at Thresh's hands. His brother had died long ago, he could not be talking now.

-Answer, bastard. -he heard again while a fist hit his back.

Darius turned, trying to grasp the hand that had hit him, but when he turned he saw Malcolm, the Noxian man that was supposed to die at his hands. The Noxian hero that had been depicted as a villain for the sole purpose of calming the rage of the Noxian people. The fool that had let go of Thresh, the one to blame for Draven's death.

Without saying a word, Darius whirled his axe, trying to cut through Malcolm's chest. But he vanished, leaving only a light spplash of blood that tainted his armor with more blood.

-Why are you doing this? -asked Darius.

...

Darkwill was preparing Thresh's lantern while he used a part of his mind to control Lux, all while giving orders to the monstrous army he had gathered.

-Faster Syndra. -said Darkwill with the monotonous voice he had been using since he had taken control of Lux.- Lux will need another platform.

While their own piece of ground kept rising, LeBlanc saw how another chunk was being torn from the woods. That piece, smaller than the one she and Darkwill occupied, was rising faster, as if it tried to reach the height that theirs now was at. During the movement, a few rotten trees were falling back into the forest, silently splintering once they reached the ground.

-Why are you doing this Elliot? -asked LeBlanc.- Where's the point of leaving?

-You are asking the wrong questions. -answered Darkwill.- And using the wrong name.

-What is your plan then, Darkwill? -said LeBlanc in a mocking tone, specially exaggerating the Ziraeth's name. - Are you going to blind us all using this girls' lights and the lantern's glow?

-She'll be back, LeBlanc. -confessed Darkwill, clearly annoyed. Then his tone turned dead serious again.- But that's not something I should have told you.

...

Quinn was still crying when she realized what was happening; the ground was rising.

Syndra, the Ionian woman that had brought down countless legions on her own, was rising two huge rocks that seemed like part of the forest's soil; two huge empty craters nearby confirmed her hypothesis.

On top of one, Darkwill was doing something to the Noxian girl that had marched with Darius and Garen, leading the army while a blonde girl argued with him. The other piece was empty, slowly and relentlessly approaching the first one.

-Shauna! -shouted Quinn, with a heavy grief that made every word difficult for her.- Shauna!There's one more thing we have to do!

...

-You did enjoy spitting at me, didn't you? -said Malcolm while slashing Darius' face with his dagger. That would definitely leave a decent scar.- I should kill you and send you with that foolish brother of yours.

-Shut up! -shouted Darius, whirling his axe again.- Come here if you dare! A shame of a man is what you are! -another move of his axe that hit nothing but trees.-I'll tear you down to pieces!

-You won't, and I am not going to kill you anyways. -said Malcolm, appearing beside Darius and grabbing him by the shoulder.- I want you to suffer as long as you can.

Another dagger slashed through Darius, now through his shoulder and his right arm suddenly was still, hanging there, lifeless. Darius tried to him hit with his head, but there was no way he could hit Malcolm; he was too blinded by rage. And Malcolm did take profit of that.

-You will live a long life of shame and torment Darius. -said Malcolm.- You'll be blamed for what will happen today; the mass extermination of thousands of men. It was under your ruling that Noxus suffered, it was under your ruling the Noxus bent to Demacia's will and marched together as one, and its under your damned ruling that Noxus lost.

...

He had to hit the lantern right at the top for opening it. He had seen Thresh do it before, but the kind of energy needed was one that he could not have access to; at least until he knew of this girl.

The combination of the Demacian girl's light cannon and the Riven's wind slash converged into a kind of missile that could tear down the frontiers between worlds, just like Thresh did with his bare hands. It was overcomplicated, but it was worth the agony he was going through. Nothing was difficult enough if the result was having Senna back.

-You know you shouldn't do this, Elliot.-said LeBlanc.- She died, and she was a great person, but that's it. The dead should not come back, specially those that Thresh took.

-Shut up. -said Darkwill.

-No! No, I won't. -I know you're hurt, Elliot. I am going through what you went through right now!

It couldn't be possible; had LeBlanc truly fallen in love? If that was true, then this blonde appearance of her was her definitive existence. That meant that, like him, she was way weaker now. "But like me, she'll eventually grow stronger than ever..." thought Darkwill. There was nothing that taught as fast as pain and grief did, and when LeBlanc lost her loved one she would definitely be able to take control of the whole world. He had to stop it.

-You don't understand it, LeBlanc. -said Darkwill.- But you certainly would if I gave you the chance.

-Then give it to me.

-I just... can't.

Lux was already on the second platform that Syndra had brought; the final spark was ready. Darkwill tossed Thresh's lantern into the air and pushed LeBlanc off the platform; in matter of seconds, she would be dead.