❝ ooo-kay ❞ as katarina toes deeper into the ionian thicket, woods growing darker and ... well, comically haunted. her slip of tongue was mostly involuntary, eyes glued to the runes etched above her, in dark crimson.
noxians didn't do ghosts. that was a well - known fact from inside home territory ---- but perhaps not as much from ouside its walls. still, there was an uneasy feeling brewing deep in her gut, and she couldn't help but feel like she was being watched .... a million eyes sandwiched in the surrounding foliage. the walls moved ... not ghosts but ...
❞ shit. ❞ katarina swears with a sharp inhale. immediately, her eyes dart to the floor. there's a transparent, dark mask forming over the ground. an eldritch tendril surely sent to envelop her feet. with barely a second to think, katarina directs a dagger at the opposing wall with a powerful throw. as soon as it lodges itself into the stone, she is perched upon it.
a quick survey of her surroundings would prove her previous observations correct. along the curvatures of the walls stand elongated figures, standing at full attention --- as if projected upon the masonry. red gazes pierce her psyche. so this was ... fucked - up puppet theatre meets .... wolves' den. good thing she knew how to bare her teeth.
below, there is a swirling sea of inky black ---- it amasses the entire pit, swarms + fights itself, forming and dissolving. bubbling. crawling. seizing. after its struggle, the pieces fit together, and there is one figure. one man. zed. ❞ you know, i hardly play fair, but ---- this is a little ridiculous, isn't it ? what is it, like .... twenty - three .... thirty .... seventy against one ? ❞ / @zhadows