"Riven, get your squad aboard the airship now. Piltover and Zaun are waiting for our warband to claim them."
Warband Commander Emystan laughed as she surveyed her assembled forces. It had taken no small effort for her to finally hear the confirmed intelligence about Swain's downfall at Placidium.
She had paid a great price to secure her appointment as Military Governor of Noxus' Twin Cities territories. But now she was about to lead her elite troops through the Hexgate directly into Piltover's heart.
Zaun's so-called "declaration of war" she treated as nothing more than a joke. Even if Zaun truly had some wind goddess backing them, that wouldn't stop her from unleashing hell on both cities until they begged for mercy.
On Runeterra, divine protection was no guarantee of survival. Even Demacia, supposedly under the watchful eye of Kayle, couldn't prevent their first king Jarvan I from being brutally decapitated by Sion during the early Noxian campaigns. Gods were distant things that concerned themselves with cosmic matters, steel and fire were immediate realities that shaped the mortal world.
When opportunity knocked, you seized it without hesitation or moral consideration. If you didn't move quickly to fill the power vacuum left by Swain's downfall, you wouldn't even get scraps from the table when other warbands carved up the territories.
Emystan came from ancient Noxian nobility stretching back to the empire's founding, with her own agenda. She commanded a powerful elite warband and maintained deep connections with the Black Rose.
The warband system operated on brutal but elegant simplicity: commanders funded and equipped their own forces using personal wealth and territorial income, receiving no imperial pay or logistical supplies. Whatever they conquered in warfare belonged to them by right of conquest. Outstanding warbands that achieved exceptional success might be rewarded with specially trained imperial units.
Under Emystan's direct command was one such elite formation: the Crimson Elite, led by Riven, wielder of the legendary runic blade.
Riven had once served under some of Noxus' most decorated field commanders, earning battlefield recognition. Emperor Darkwill himself had granted her the extraordinary right to wield the ancient runic blade.
In truth, Riven's military achievements and service record should have earned her a noble title and the legal right to raise her own independent army, but there was simply no available territory left in the empire to grant as a fief.
The Black Rose power brokers had dismissed her as an unconnected commoner with no political backing or family influence, just another talented soldier who was exceptionally good at killing enemies, so they'd given her an impressive magical weapon and considered her ambitions satisfied.
The Crimson Elite consisted entirely of exceptional warriors, each bringing highly specialized combat skills to the battlefield.
There was Arrel the Tracker, who bred and commanded a pack of trained war hounds capable of tracking enemies across vast distances; Marit the Wrathful Rider, a minor noble; and Teneff the Brutal Hunter, a completely bald brawler who wielded a meteor hammer.
"Commander, the Crimson Elite has completed all final equipment checks and is ready for deployment. We can move out on your word," Riven reported after completing her preparations.
"Good. We depart now."
With a sweeping gesture of her sleeve, Emystan's commanding presence filled air. She and Riven boarded the airship, immediately ordering the crew to take flight and begin their approach to the Hexgate.
Through the ancient Hexgate system at the Immortal Bastion, they would be transported directly into Piltover.
But just as Emystan and the Crimson Elite, standing proud and confident on the airship's observation deck, prepared to descend upon the Twin Cities, the moment their vessel emerged from the swirling energies of the Hexgate, hundreds of flying machines swarmed around them.
Staring at the dense array of mechanical lenses and sensor equipment focused directly on her position, Emystan felt a chill of unease.
"What the hell are these things?"
Her warband had maintained trading relationships with Piltover for years. But she had never seen technology like this before. Frowning, she instinctively moved her hand toward the sword at her waist. Something was very wrong here.
Unlike other traditional and hidebound Noxian warband commanders who clung to ancient tactics, Emystan had embraced what she proudly called "progressive" approaches to warfare. She had been among the first to establish trade relationships for Swain's explosive munitions.
She was completely obsessed with acquiring advanced weaponry from any available source, poison gas shells, alchemical grenades, incendiary charges, and stolen Hextech armaments. In her philosophy, victory belonged to whoever possessed superior firepower and the will to use it.
She also favored ruthlessly pragmatic tactics, including sacrificing her own troops to achieve larger objectives when necessary. When cornered soldiers called desperately for reinforcements, she would calculate whether it was more efficient to rain explosives on friend and foe alike rather than risk additional forces in rescue operations.
In the original timeline, Riven and her sworn battle-sisters had been betrayed and abandoned by exactly such callous decisions.
Within Noxian military circles, Emystan was widely despised as a heartless manipulator who treated soldiers like disposable chess pieces. Yet her methods consistently delivered victories, making her position unshakeable.
Swain had always loathed her methods and complete disregard for soldier welfare, but since he commanded the Eastern Front campaigns while she operated exclusively in Western theater operations, he had never found a suitable opportunity or justification to remove her from power.
"Something's definitely wrong here. Battle stations! Get this airship docked immediately!"
Emystan drew her massive sword.
That was when she noticed: Piltover's airship port was completely deserted, no dock workers managing cargo, and no security personnel at their posts.
"Zaun issued its declaration of war less than thirty minutes ago, and Noxus is already here. Your response time is quite impressive, I'll give you that."
A cold, distinctly unimpressed male voice came through a drone.
"You must be Cipher."
"Let me make something crystal clear, I represent the Noxian Empire. This airship carries an elite vanguard unit, and my main warband is already en route aboard our fastest warships."
"If you're stupid enough to make any hostile moves against us, Noxian armies will grind Zaun into powder."
Emystan tried to project confidence while issuing threats, mainly buying time to assess her situation.
The airship was still suspended several dozen meters above the ground, if it was shot down by whatever advanced weapons these mysterious drones possessed, everyone aboard would almost certainly die in the crash.
As it happened, Cipher was also stalling for time.
Initially, he had planned to simply vaporize the entire airship and its cargo with a single shot from his orbital laser platform. But one of his surveillance drones had spotted a familiar figure among the Noxian troops.
It was Riven, still in her prime, before her legendary blade would be shattered and her faith in Noxus broken.
He remembered the hours he'd spent playing as Battle Bunny Riven, the first skin he'd ever purchased in his previous life. Nostalgia made him hesitate.
Whether this single airship and its passengers lived or died wouldn't really affect his larger objectives or change the outcome of the conflict. So he decided to demonstrate some mercy and provide them with an opportunity to surrender.
"Be grateful that someone just saved your life. Otherwise, you'd already be atoms scattered in the wind."
The moment the airship touched down at the abandoned port, before Emystan could start making demands, Cipher made his intentions clear.
As his voice faded through the drone speakers, the hundreds of mechanical observers scattered quickly, clearing the blast radius for what was coming next.
From atop a towering Zaun structure, a massive energy cannon finished its charging sequence and prepared to fire.
"Who the hell just saved our lives? What are you talking about?"
Emystan was completely bewildered by the random comment. But before she could demand an explanation or threaten retaliation, a brilliant blue-white energy beam, brighter than lightning, tore through the air. The beam passed just centimeters above her head, close enough that she could feel the discharge making her hair stand on end, and completely obliterated the airship's primary gas envelope.
The shot was so carefully aimed that it destroyed only the aircraft's lift system, leaving the passengers, crew, and cargo bay completely unharmed.
She instinctively reached up and touched her scalp, certain she could smell singed hair. Rage boiled over as she shouted, "You arrogant piece of undercity trash! Send word to my warband, advance on with maximum speed and prepare for war! I'll level every structure in Zaun to bedrock and use the rubble to fill their fissures!"
"You still don't get it, do you? The old world is dead, lady. Welcome to the future."
The surveillance drones swarmed back into position around the grounded Noxians. Cipher's voice echoed from every direction as dozens of weapons locked onto Emystan and her elite troops.
Then, with a deafening volley, they rained down a storm of tranquilizer rounds.
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