Voidborn kept throwing themselves at the gravitational field.
They came in waves, clawing, biting, ramming their bodies against the invisible barrier as if enough hatred could make it break.
Ahri barely noticed them.
Logan's head rested in her lap.
His eyes were open, but unfocused. Blood clung to his face, his neck, his torn clothes, and the pieces of him that were still there. The golden-pink light from the transformation had vanished almost completely. Only a few weak traces remained near his wounds, flickering and dying under the pressure of the Void.
Kassadin knelt beside him.
His armor was damaged in too many places to count, but his hands were steady. The purple blade in his grip burned low, controlled, and terrible. He had already used it twice along the ruined edge of Logan's left shoulder.
What remained of it.
Ahri forced herself to look.
She wished she hadn't.
Logan's left arm was gone. Not cut cleanly. The shoulder, part of the upper torso near it, and everything beyond had been erased. There were other injuries too. His left leg ended at the knee, the lower half taken during the final chaos. His side and back were punctured where Voidborn had stabbed into him while he and Aatrox held the attack.
"Do you have to do that to the leg too?" Ahri asked.
Her own voice sounded distant, like someone else was speaking through her.
"No," Kassadin said. "The leg was the Voidborns."
"You should be proud, Spirit."
Aatrox's voice came from beside Logan.
The sword was planted into the platform near him, half-buried in the strange surface, its glow dim but present. The calm in his voice still felt strange. He sounded exhausted, if a weapon could be exhausted.
"Your man fought with courage despite the difference in power."
Kassadin did not look up from his work. "He's right. He fought bravely."
Ahri wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
She leaned down and kissed Logan's forehead.
"Of course I'm proud," she whispered. "You were incredible, Logan."
Logan's lips moved, but no sound came out.
Kassadin adjusted his grip on the blade.
"This part will hurt. A lot."
Ahri picked up the strip of cloth she had torn from her dress and brought it back to Logan's mouth. It was already marked with blood where he had bitten through the last wave of pain.
Kassadin looked at him. "Ready?"
Logan gave a small nod.
Ahri placed the cloth between his teeth.
Kassadin lowered the blade.
Logan's body arched.
The sound he made through the cloth broke something in Ahri's chest.
She held his head as gently as she could, fingers trembling in his hair, and forced herself not to look away. Kassadin dragged the purple edge along the ruined border of the wound, burning away the corrupted tissue the Watcher's ray had left behind. A cruel line between what could remain and what would spread if left alone.
"If only I had power left," Ahri said.
Earlier, Kassadin had told her the truth with no softness in it. Logan would die if he was not treated, but the wounds from the Watcher's lasers could not simply regenerate. The Watchers did not only cut flesh. They destroyed the existence of things and beings, as if there had never been anything there in the first place.
You could not regenerate what had never existed.
During the explosion, in one final burst of fury, the Watcher had fired again. The beam had struck Logan just as the transformation with Aatrox ended, finishing what the earlier shot had started and cutting away the shoulder completely. Worse, the light had carried corruption with it. Kassadin had to carve the edge clean before it spread deeper.
Kassadin finally lifted the blade.
Logan collapsed back into Ahri's lap, breathing hard.
Kassadin gave him time.
The Voidborns outside continued to scrape at the field.
"That ally you said was coming," Kassadin said, turning slightly toward Ahri. "Can it heal?"
"It depends who it is," Ahri answered. She swallowed. Her throat hurt. "But even if they can't, if they can lend me spiritual power, I can do it myself."
Logan's breathing slowly steadied. His face was pale, but his eyes found Ahri's.
"Everyone was incredible," he said.
His voice was quiet and rough, each word dragged out of him with effort.
"Damn it... we beat a True Watcher."
Then he smiled.
It was weak. Stupid. Too Logan.
Ahri smiled back even while crying.
"Yes," she said. "You did."
...
...
...
A few moments passed.
...
...
...
Then Aatrox spoke.
"Do you feel that?"
Kassadin's head turned at once. "Of course I feel it."
Ahri's tired gaze lifted.
Something arrived.
The Voidborn around the field pulled back.
Not far, but enough to make a path. Enough to show fear, obedience, or both.
A new voice entered the space around them.
...
"That was impressive. Truly."
...
Silence followed.
Logan let out a painful laugh. "Damn it. At least give us a break."
Ahri saw it then.
A True Watcher.
She recognized it immediately.
It was the eyeball Watcher from the Freljord. The one that had spoken when it was still a false shape, still bound by the limits of the world. Like the deer-shaped Watcher, it had been resurrected into its true form.
But unlike the fuchsia Watcher, this one had not become more complicated.
It had become simpler.
In the Freljord, it had been rounder, a floating giant eye. Here, its true body was narrow and vertical, like a cat's pupil. A black slit formed its center, surrounded by a yellow-orange glow. Its edges were smooth, thin, and wrong, with no limbs that Ahri could see at first.
It reminded her of the giant Eye that searched for Logan and found him.
"Relax," the Watcher said. "I will not be your opponent. Or have you not noticed that my blue companion has taken your side? He may be looking at the ground right now, but he will not let me kill you."
Ahri glanced toward the blue Watcher.
It was still low to the platform, head angled downward, as if refusing to look directly at them for the moment. But the gravitational field had not weakened. If anything, it tightened slightly when the yellow-orange Watcher spoke.
The new Watcher continued.
"I will destroy you in the end, of course. That has not changed. But the inhabitants of Runeterra have become more interesting than I expected."
Its eye shifted toward Kassadin.
"You, void-touched hunter. You carve yourself apart and call the wound purpose. You lost a daughter to the dark beneath your world, then turned yourself into a weapon and followed her shadow until nothing remained of the man but his refusal."
Kassadin said nothing.
The eye moved to Aatrox.
"And you. A dead god-warrior trapped in a blade, rotten with memory, still pretending duty can cleanse what madness made of you. Yet for a moment, it almost did."
The Watcher turned to Ahri.
"You nearly emptied yourself for one mortal soul, yet you already know how this ends. He will return to them. You will smile, pretend you are noble, and remain alone."
Ahri's hand tightened around Logan's hair.
Zarr's voice softened with cruel interest.
"There it is. Envy. Small, warm, and shameful. It has already begun to corrupt you."
Finally, the Watcher looked at Logan.
"And you are the strangest. Not the strongest. Not the oldest. Not the most broken. Yet you carry stories that make even Watchers pause. You enter places that should erase you, gather monsters, gods, spirits, and ruins around yourself, and somehow convince them to care."
Logan blinked slowly. "That almost sounded like a compliment."
"It was an observation."
"Still taking it."
"Since you use names," the Watcher said, "you may call me Zarr."
Behind Zarr, five Voidborn emerged.
They were not like the swarm. Each one had a complete shape, complex and deliberate. Lean bodies covered in dark chitin, long bladed arms, tails ending in hooked points, and heads shaped for hunting.
Logan looked at them and muttered, "They look a little like Kha'Zix without wings."
Zarr's vertical eye turned back to Ahri and Logan.
"You two are charming together," it said. "Especially you, Logan."
Ahri felt Logan's fingers move faintly against her dress.
Zarr continued, voice still smooth.
"I promise you, one day Ahri will look like you. Torn apart. Missing pieces that will never return. She will understand how much of a person can be removed before the rest still insists on living."
Something in Ahri snapped.
"Shut up!" she shouted.
The words tore out of her before she could stop them. She called Zarr several things in the same breath, none of them dignified, several of them anatomically impossible for something that was only an eye. Her voice cracked halfway through, but anger carried it forward.
Zarr laughed.
It had no mouth, but the sound still came, low and amused.
"Perhaps Ahri is more interesting than Logan after all."
"Stop saying our names like you know us," Ahri snapped. "How do you even know them?"
"I know many things."
...
Zarr's gaze shifted toward the blue Watcher.
"Unfortunately, my companion is becoming impatient. Perhaps it is time we stop talking."
The blue Watcher rose.
The field around them hummed.
Slowly, it approached Ahri and Logan. Its movements were careful, almost awkward, as if it was still deciding how much force every gesture should carry.
When it spoke, the words were broken and primitive compared to Zarr's.
"Name," it said.
Ahri stared.
The blue Watcher lowered itself slightly.
"For me. Give. Name."
Ahri looked down at Logan.
He was watching the blue Watcher too. Despite the pain, despite the blood, he gave her a small nod.
Ahri looked back at the Watcher.
"Selyra," she said.
Logan's eyes widened a little.
"You chose a feminine name."
Ahri did not look away from the blue Watcher. "She has a certain feminine elegance. And her voice is more high than deep."
The Watcher was silent for a moment.
Then it said, "Selyra."
The name sounded strange in its mouth, stretched and uneven, but not rejected.
"Selyra," it repeated.
Then it looked at Logan and Ahri.
"If both. Continue. Existing. I find. You. Teach me. Runeterra. In person."
Logan smiled faintly. "Deal."
Selyra turned to Ahri.
"Friends. Where?"
Ahri focused.
The spiritual presence was closer now. Still far, but clearer than before. She could feel its direction through the fading connection inside her, through the part of her that still knew how to hear spiritual power even when her own was almost gone.
She lifted one hand and pointed.
"There."
Selyra straightened.
The Watcher moved toward the edge of the gravitational field and passed through it without leaving an opening behind. The barrier sealed around her movement.
Zarr's five singular Voidborn circled the field.
They dug their claws into its surface and held on.
Zarr would not fight them directly, it seemed. But he was leaving his servants close.
Zarr looked at Selyra.
"Repugnant."
Selyra turned her head.
"Repugnant," she said. "You. Ugly."
For a second, Ahri forgot how to breathe.
Then Logan laughed.
It hurt him. She could tell at once, but he laughed anyway. A quiet, broken sound that still somehow made the Void less unbearable. Ahri laughed too, more from shock than humor, and she thought Kassadin might have made a sound close to amusement. Even Aatrox's glow pulsed in a way that felt suspiciously entertained.
Selyra placed one hand against the gravitational field.
"Goodbye."
Power gathered.
Ahri felt it through the barrier, immense and controlled. The Voidborn clinging to the outside tightened their claws, bracing themselves.
Then Selyra threw the entire gravitational field.
The platform, Aatrox, Kassadin, Ahri, Logan, and the five attached Voidborn all surged through the Void in the direction Ahri had indicated. The field held together as they moved, a sealed pocket of pressure and protection hurtling away from Zarr and Selyra.
The two Watchers remained behind.
They would fight.
Ahri did not know what that meant for them.
She only knew they were moving.
Kassadin steadied himself near Logan, one hand braced against the platform.
"I have many questions," he said. "But the first is obvious."
Logan turned his head slightly. "Yeah?"
"How did you make friends with a Watcher?"
Aatrox answered before Logan and Ahri could.
"I also fail to understand it."
Ahri looked at Logan.
He looked back at her.
Despite everything, they smiled.
Logan's voice was barely above a whisper.
"She liked our stories."
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