Before Runeterra. Some would wake up screaming, and beyond consolation. Some could not fall asleep, slowly going mad as the nights ticked by. Some simply never woke up. Physicians were baffled until a nightmare-stricken man cried out a haunting name from his unconscious state, then stopped breathing. Magical energy arced from the man, and Nocturne appeared., people believed that dreams were figments of their imagination, meaningless images that flashed through the mind when one slept. This belief was put to the test when a rash of sleep-related incidents started afflicting many throughout
Nocturne did not take his introduction to this world kindly. He slaughtered everything he could find before mages were able to intervene and temporarily confine him. After a period of intense study, the mages divined that Nocturne hunted those in their sleep, attacking his victims where they were most powerless. This seemed to be his only purpose. The families of the victims demanded justice, but Nocturne's jailers were concerned that death might only return the creature to the place from which it came, making him even more powerful. When a weary mage guarding him finally succumbed to sleep, Nocturne vanished into thin air. Scholars have no idea whether he truly came from the plane of dreams, or whether there are any more like him. Perhaps the most disturbing theory is that Nocturne is a person's nightmare come to life. If this is true, they wonder, who is the dreamer?
Before summoners of the League. Some would wake up screaming, and beyond consolation. Some could not fall asleep, slowly going mad as the nights ticked by. Some simply never woke up. Physicians were baffled until a Field Architect happened to pass out next to a nexus on the Twisted Treeline. Witnesses said he cried out once and then stopped breathing. Immediately after, magical energy arced out from the nexus, and Nocturne appeared., people believed that dreams were figments of their imaginations, meaningless images that flashed through the mind when one slept. This belief was put to the test when a rash of sleep-related incidents started afflicting
Nocturne did not take his introduction to this world kindly. He slaughtered everything he could find before summoners were able to magically confine him. After a period of intense study, League experts divined that Nocturne hunted summoners in their sleep, attacking them in a place where their magic was useless. This seemed to be his only purpose. The families of the victims demanded justice, but League officials were concerned that death might only return Nocturne to the place from which he came. They bound him to a nexus fragment, trapping him in the physical world. As punishment for his crimes, they allowed summoners to call upon Nocturne in League matches, bending his will to the summoners he hates and creating his own personal nightmare. League scholars don't know whether he truly came from the plane of dreams, or whether there are any more like him. Some theorize that the summoning act affected the summoners' subconscious minds, luring Nocturne to them in their sleep. Perhaps the most disturbing theory is that Nocturne is a person's nightmare come to life. If this is true, they wonder, who is the dreamer?
- 11 March, 21 CLE
The Field Architect has had a long day. Surveying the grounds for signs of degradation is no small task; taking readings every five feet is essential in order to detect even the slightest disturbances in the intricate energy fields. An overlooked spike in the surrounding forces could set off a chain reaction of destruction due to the rampant use of magic on the Fields of Justice. In his own little way, he liked to think that he was saving Runeterra one checkpoint at a time.
His work complete, the architect makes his way back to the summoning platform, where he passes a nexus that should have been dormant. An unbidden spark inside the nexus catches his eye. He turns to investigate only to be struck by a wild burst of energy arcing out of the nexus. The architect collapses to the floor in a heap, sprawling on the unforgiving cobblestone.
His body shrivels as a noxious trail of thickpours out of his open mouth. It is shivering with life and pulsing with horrors.
It is born of nightmares.
had drifted through the minds of humans for endless expanses of time. He beheld the faces they yearned for, absorbed the desires that coursed through their veins, and inhabited the fantasies that set their hearts ablaze. He lingered within the despicably human illusions they conjured in the narrow expanse that was their puny brains.
From all of them, he consumed the magic that rippled through their souls.
Nocturne had only a moment to examine his new found physical form before a circle of robed summoners appeared around him. He knew who they were before they even revealed themselves. These were the overlords whose faces consumed each mind of every summoner whose dreams he haunted. They were the voices that drenched lesser kinds with promises of great power, and they were the hands that directed the ebb and flow of the entire world. Nocturne knew what these humans wanted, but they would not get him.
His shadowed form ghosted silently toward one of the humans, reaching out with the etherealof his consciousness. The cloaked human spasmed as his hands rose to tear at his own head. A bloodcurdling scream ripped through the air, then choked off into silence as the human's mind collapsed into itself.
The other humans barely had a chance to react before Nocturne was on them. He reached out with his limbs asextended forth from his arms to rend human flesh from bone. The shadow darted low and slashed upwards with his blades, impaling an unfortunate summoner through the entire length of his body.
Nocturne felt a group of humans rush up from behind; for a second, his form pulsed.smothered the entire field, an oppressive blackness that breathed and sighed. Victims eternally trapped in the phantasm murmured in the summoners' ears, promising eternal torment and pleading for release. Disembodied hands clawed at the living, desperate to rip any semblance of existence away for their own keeping.
The remaining summoners lashed out, flailing against the ghastly fingers that only disappeared long enough to reappear again in greater numbers. Spell incantations decayed on their lips as the magical energies refused to heed their call. The darkness began to suffocate the humans, and they clawed at their eyes in a wild attempt to regain their sight. Devoured by terror, they didn't even sense Nocturne's approach, nor did they feel the blades that cleaved through their soft bodies and condemned their souls to an eternity in the darkness.
One summoner had stood apart from the others. He was decorated with gold chains draped over purple robes. Unaffected by the blindness and horrors, he had chosen to observe impassively as the carnage unfurled. No expression flickered over his face as the pooled blood stained the hem of his robes, nor did his visage change when the dismembered head of his former comrade bumped up against his leg.
The summoner spoke. "Impressive. I see that the eons you've spent leeching off our minds have managed to serve some purpose."
"I know who you are." Nocturne returned.
"I'm flattered." The summoner sneered. "Then you should also know that it is time you repay us for the horrors you have wrought upon our kind."
"And how do you plan to do that, human?" A monstrous howl echoed from the shadows, something akin to what those humans called a laugh.
"You are now in the world of our control. And you shall be in our service."
"You call this pitiful existence 'payment'?" A flick of Nocturne's hideous blade sent a pile of steaming entrails splattering across the ground. He readied the jagged edge for this last foolish one. "You may have conjured me into your world somehow, but all you will receive is destruction."
With a roar, Nocturne heaved himself at the summoner. His blood-soaked blade came within a razor's width of carving that aggravating smirk off the human's face. Metal circled around his wrists, clanging shut, and sent him flying backwards into a heap of metal chains.
"No. This is your reparation." The summoner's lips parted, wet with anticipation. "Welcome to the League."
The summoners whose bodies lay in a pile around him raised their heads. Their arms shot out and clamped onto Nocturne with an iron grip. They dragged him downward, forcing his physical existence into submission. Every part of him screamed out against the shackles as he involuntarily bowed to the towering head summoner.
Nocturne was now in service to the League, and it was his own eternal nightmare.
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