Since the aftermath of the world rune faded, the entire mausoleum had fallen into a deep and eerie silence.
Just as Ryan was about to float toward the void passage, a voice suddenly called out from behind him:
"President! I found something!"
Ryan steadied himself in the air and turned around.
Ezreal stood there, a faintly smug look on his face, holding a notebook with a dark brown, sheepskin-textured cover.
Ryan frowned slightly.
"Did that come from him?" he asked.
"He" referred to the skeletal remains slumped silently against the far wall.
To that long-deceased mage, Ryan felt a measure of respect.
If not for his sacrifice long ago, the desert surrounding this mausoleum—and perhaps even more of Shurima—might have long since fallen to the Void.
And worse still, had the recent surge of magic exceeded the mausoleum's saturation threshold, it would've triggered the ancient self-destruction protocol.
The resulting explosion would have torn open a massive void passage, unleashing a swarm of Voidborn...
Enough to consume all of Shurima.
And Shurima was no longer in its golden age.
Ezreal nodded solemnly, lowering his right arm and speaking with quiet reverence:
"He was a hero."
Then, he began recounting what the notebook revealed.
"He was a mage from the early days of Noxus—an explorer, like me. By chance, he came across a World Rune. Wanting to better understand magic, he ventured here."
Ezreal paused, sighing.
"It's a diary. He wrote about his excitement... but also his regret. He overcame all the trials left behind by the Mage King and opened the main tomb with ease."
"But what waited for him wasn't treasure," Ezreal said grimly, "It was a Void passage—deliberately placed and hidden by the Mage King."
Ryan glanced down at the skeletal remains.
It was clear the mage hadn't died from wounds—his death had come from magical exhaustion or physical collapse.
With a World Rune in hand, the mage could have left. But he didn't.
Instead, he fought until his last breath—and left the World Rune behind.
Now, only today, had that story come to light again.
The three of them stood in silence. The air grew heavy.
Their eyes were fixed on the white bones on the ground, each offering a quiet, sincere tribute.
After a while, Ezreal spoke again.
"The diary says he realized something was wrong when he opened the tomb, but it was too late. The Void passage tore open and consumed everything. He used the World Rune to stop it."
Ezreal pointed downward.
"Beneath us, he used the World Rune to create a powerful barrier, keeping the Void creatures contained. Ultimately, he had two options: use the rune's power to escape… or stay and die."
He chose the latter.
After fusing with the World Rune himself, Ryan understood.
Its energy was immense—far beyond that of ordinary magic.
For most mages, even channeling a fraction of that power was difficult.
Maintaining a containment barrier while teleporting out would have been impossible.
If he had fled, the Void would have spilled out unchecked.
One life, to save ten thousand...
Or one escapes, and ten thousand die.
"At the very end," Ezreal said quietly, "he poured all his power into the rune. And left it behind—hoping that whoever came next would finish what he started."
He looked up. His eyes gleamed, filled with hope and awe, as he gazed at Ryan floating above him, as if, across the centuries, the fallen mage was passing the torch to him.
The diary ended there.
Ezreal left out a section that spoke of the mage's research into Void creatures and an undead guardian hidden within.
But for now, some truths could wait.
Precisely because there was no way to kill it except with the power of a World Rune—and even those wretched Void creatures could devour magic itself—
This was why the mage had chosen to sacrifice himself.
He couldn't see any hope for humanity in the face of such an alien threat.
The notes also recorded that the pioneering mage had named those small, worm-like Void creatures "Void born."
"He was a noble Noxian," Ryan said quietly.
"His deeds should be honored in the Empire, alongside the story of this tomb."
Though his voice was soft, Ezreal could hear the weight behind his words—and he couldn't help but feel a flicker of excitement.
If this story spread, surely he'd be mentioned too.
Ezreal, the great and brilliant explorer...
The very thought sent a thrill through him.
He quickly pulled himself from the somber atmosphere and offered eagerly,
"President, don't worry! I'll handle that when we return."
Ryan nodded slightly.
"I leave it to you. Bury his remains here, in the mausoleum. He deserves that much. As for the
original Mage King..."
Ryan paused.
"I respect his resolve to make a final stand. But he should never have tampered with the Void."
The Void—enemy of all that lived on the material plane.
Ryan didn't know how Icathia first came into contact with the Void, but he suspected time magic played a role.
From what he knew, the mages of Icathia were adept with that magic, capable even of glimpsing potential futures.
He suspected that the Mage King hadn't made contact directly, but rather glimpsed the Void through time—saw it in the far future, and somehow acquired coordinates from what he witnessed.
With that thought lingering, Ryan turned and floated slowly toward the nearby void passage.
No new Void creatures had emerged since disabling the mausoleum's self-destruction protocol.
Not because they feared.
But because something stronger—something greater-was cutting them off from the other side.
"…Void," Ryan murmured, extending his palm.
Hum.
Dark blue magic swirled into his hand, condensing, taking shape.
In moments, a bright blue, translucent magical creature hovered above his palm.
It was only about a finger long, with large, pointed ears, small limbs, and a tail like flickering blue fire.
Its jelly-like body shimmered, soft and luminous, somewhere between a cat and a mouse in size.
"Goo!"
The little creature let out a happy chirp, lowered its head, and rubbed its round face against Ryan's palm.
Ryan's expression softened. A rare smile touched his lips.
One of the powers the fusion with the World Rune granted was the ability to create magical life.
These creatures weren't just alive; they were pure magic, formed from the Rune's immense energy.
They couldn't be harmed by physical means and wouldn't fade unless their magic ran dry.
Of course, Ryan could replenish that energy anytime.
Even if fully depleted, he could recreate them using the World Rune—memories intact, nothing lost.
But that wasn't the only reason he valued this ability.
His magical creations could amplify spells, attach to enchantments, and act as conduits for complex magic.
Despite its size, this little one alone had enough energy to maintain the operations of a floating castle.
"Go."
At Ryan's word, the creature perked up. Its round eyes grew serious.
"Goo!"
As if saluting, it flicked its ears, kicked off his palm, and dove into the void passage without hesitation.
Ryan watched the flicker of blue vanish into the darkness. He wasn't worried.
From what he and Syndra had studied, the Void plane was a lifeless spiritual realm, completely drained of material essence.
Its hunger was boundless.
The Void always sought the material world—to plunder, to devour.
But even the most powerful Voidborn couldn't cross the planar boundaries on their own.
The Void was chaos—disorder incarnate. It lacked the precision and knowledge needed to pierce the barriers between worlds.
That power rested solely with the material realm.
Only a powerful mage could bend the rules of reality, touch the authority of the world, and open such a gate.
And the scale of that gate mattered.
A small portal like this? It would never let a powerful Void creature through.
They would ignore it entirely.
As for the first to open the way between realms...
Ryan didn't know who it was.
But without a doubt, it was a mage.
Only magic could borrow the world's authority, connect with other planes, and open the door between them.
Just like now...
Ryan sensed a new planar coordinate imprint itself in his mind.
A faint fluctuation flickered in his dark blue eyes.
With the authority of the World Rune, he now had the power to open a Void channel himself.
"Interesting…"
Through the connection with his little magical creature, Ryan saw something intriguing on the other side of the Void rift.
A place of chaos… disorder… the unknown… primal, alien wildness.
None of the usual descriptions fit.
If any word could encompass it, perhaps it was simply:
Nothingness.
There was no light here—only a boundless darkness.
Endless, unconscious things squirmed across the void.
A small blue figure emerged, its limbs paddling through the darkness like it stirred stagnant water.
The blue-flame-like tail behind it danced with every movement.
Its dark sapphire eyes scanned its surroundings with innocent curiosity.
It wasn't entirely silent or empty—not to the little creature.
From time to time, a purple orb of energy would flash, and with each explosion, a dense cluster of Void creatures would be shredded into violet mist.
The source of those energy blasts was a humanoid "thing" wearing what appeared to be Void-forged armor.
It stood roughly human-sized, but its appearance was anything but.
Its body was cloaked in wrinkled, dark violet-black tissue, lined with jagged bone spurs.
It was impossible to tell where the armor ended and the flesh began.
Its head was spindle-shaped—more like an insect's carapace than a skull.
Smooth, chitinous, and devoid of facial features, it had only two thin, glowing purple eyes trailing downward in curved lines.
And that wasn't even the most eye-catching part.
From its shoulders, two pairs of dark, carapaced wings, sleek and angular, with a purple orb nestled into each joint.
These were the source of the destructive light blasts.
As the little creature watched, more orbs shot from the wings, detonating nearby swarms of lesser Voidspawn with surgical precision.
How strange!
The little one blinked twice, its oversized ears twitching in surprise.
It tilted its head and floated in place, observing the being.
And in that moment, it felt like "it" watching back.
The little creature hesitated—then lifted one of its tiny forepaws in greeting.
"Goo!"
Then, puffing out its translucent, round cheeks, it opened its mouth and released a small beam of blue light.
Like lightning, the ray sliced through the darkness, vaporizing Voidspawn between the two figures.
But when it struck the armored being, it didn't cause any harm.
Instead, the being reacted—its body darting forward, gliding rapidly toward the little one.
But the creature showed no fear.
Instead, it calmly hovered and released more magical energy, clearing a path through the writhing voidlings.
In mere seconds, "it" arrived.
Hovering beside the tiny blue emissary, the armored creature paused.
The little guy wriggled its limbs, then climbed onto its back, gripping the streamlined carapace with practiced ease.
Together, the two formed a seamless partnership.
Purple and blue lights crisscrossed through the darkness, obliterating Voidspawn left and right.
Eventually, perched atop its partner's shoulder, the little one pointed behind them, toward the faint blue shimmer of the Void passage.
Though only the size of a well's mouth, it was wide enough for them to pass through.
Without hesitation, "it" turned and followed the path home.
In the mausoleum, Ezreal and Katarina snapped into defensive stances the moment the passage shimmered.
A humanoid Void creature emerged from within.
Their eyes sharpened, weapons half-drawn.
But Ryan didn't move. Calm, still.
The absence of alarm in his posture gave them pause.
Ezreal glanced at him sideways. Given what he'd seen of the President's power, a creature of this size would be no threat.
"Your Excellency…" Katarina said cautiously, her hand still on her blade.
But Ryan raised a hand to still her and smiled.
Then, astonishingly, he bowed slightly, offering the formal greeting of Shuriman nobility:
"Welcome back, fellow being who survived the Void."
The moment those words left his lips, the Void creature stiffened.
So did Ezreal and Katarina, both stunned.
This… thing? A survivor?
From top to bottom, it was undeniably a Void creature from every angle. Bone and shell, carapace and corruption.
How could it possibly be—
—One of them?
They stared at it in disbelief, as if their gaze could peel away the Void-cloaked armor and see the human buried beneath.
"You... recognize... have... me?"
A voice—female—echoed from within the Void-forged figure.
The words were halting, fragmented, the cadence strange and distorted.
Her voice didn't seem to pass through vocal cords, but instead resonated from within the carapace, as though the very armor was attempting to speak.
Katarina's hand instinctively drifted toward her blade.
The language was alien, garbled, and fragmented.
She couldn't make out even a basic structure.
But Ezreal blinked, a flicker of recognition sparking in his eyes.
"...That's Shuriman. Not modern... older dialect. From the outskirts. The far east."
He'd heard it once while trekking through the ruins of Icathia—spoken by reclusive villagers who still clung to the old tongue, near the very fringes of civilization.
Ryan nodded. "Yes. It's the regional dialect spoken in the villages south of Icathia, near the ruins."
He stepped forward and addressed the figure again, calmly and without fear.
"I don't know your name, but you're one of us. You were once from this world. I'm Ryan Meredith of Noxus."
His voice was steady and gentle, as if speaking to an old friend waking from a long sleep.
There was something... familiar about her presence.
Even cloaked in Void corruption, some part of her aura stirred a faint but unmistakable resonance.
Beneath the shell, her true self was hidden—even Ryan couldn't pierce the armor with his vision alone—but the soul inside... was not fully lost to the Void.
He spoke again, switching dialects smoothly into her native tongue.
Shuriman, old and half-forgotten.
The armored head tilted slightly.
"Ryan Meredith..."
She repeated it softly, her voice still strange—but this time smooth, fluid.
Again:
"Ryan Meredith..."
And then again—this time with something fragile in her tone.
Wonder. Recognition. Emotion.
The cadence quickened.
Something within her remembered.
Something inside cracked.
Her shoulders trembled ever so slightly, as if a dam of numb silence was breaking open inside her.
Then, at last, her voice rose into clarity:
"I haven't seen you... for so long!"
The last words echoed through the mausoleum, filled with bright and mournful emotion, like the sun breaking through after a thousand years of shadow.
Ezreal and Katarina stood frozen.
This was no Voidborn monster.
This was someone—someone—who had survived the impossible.