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After a long period of trekking, Ryan and the others descended deeper and deeper into the earth.
The sun had long since disappeared, leaving only faint, scattered lights to illuminate the road ahead.
Suddenly, they arrived at a dead end—a jagged, narrow, and ominously deep chasm stretching into the darkness below.
"How are we supposed to get down there?"
Seraphine stepped onto her small magical platform and glanced at the others with curiosity.
Ezreal, as always, radiated confidence, humming a jaunty tune to himself.
Judging by Seraphine's quick estimation, the fissure appeared to be at least a kilometer deep.
"A true explorer is always ready for anything!" Ezreal proclaimed as he rummaged through his pack. Triumphantly, he pulled out a thick coil of rope.
"Behold! Straight from Zali's Adventure Shop! The super-long expedition rope—perfect for climbing up or down any obstacle!"
"It doesn't need to be that complicated."
Ryan's calm voice interrupted Ezreal's enthusiasm.
Without hesitation, Ryan stepped forward, and when his feet hovered over the abyss, a current of water materialized beneath him.
The shimmering stream gently cradled him, carrying him steadily downward into the shadows below.
"Don't keep us waiting too long, fearless explorer."
Seraphine chuckled, stepping off the edge. Her enchanted platform floated effortlessly, following Ryan into the depths.
Orianna was the simplest of all. She needed no tools or spells. With her usual enigmatic smile, she glanced at Ezreal, then leaped gracefully into the chasm.
Her descent defied the pull of gravity as she floated downward at a measured, almost mechanical pace.
Ezreal froze, staring after them. His gaze shifted back to the rope in his hands.
For the first time, doubt crept into his mind.
The much-hyped expedition gear he had painstakingly acquired now seemed... underwhelming.
But he shook off the thought, puffed out his chest, and declared,
"The method doesn't matter! What matters is the person—the greatest explorer of this century, Ezreal!"
Reinvigorated, he secured the rope and began his descent.
Unlike the others, Ezreal took his time. He paused frequently, checking his grip, and even pulled out a small bottle of conditioner at one point to smooth his hair.
"Rule number one of exploration," he muttered to himself,
"Always look your best. A lesson straight from the greatest explorer in Runeterra—me."
Minutes turned into what felt like an eternity. As Ezreal climbed, the bottom of the chasm remained nowhere in sight.
"Oh, by the gods of exploration," he groaned.
"Why is this so long?"
Before he could finish complaining, a burst of water suddenly erupted beneath him. The serpentine stream spiraled upward, striking his rope and severing it cleanly.
Ezreal's hands slipped, and his heart plummeted with him.
"Noooo!"
He screamed as he fell freely, but before panic could fully take hold, his body was caught by a floating orb of water. It cushioned him perfectly, leaving only his head above the surface.
The water orb descended rapidly, far faster than his rope-aided progress had been.
Within moments, Ezreal realized he had traveled farther in seconds than he had climbed in minutes.
By the time the orb reached the bottom, Ryan, Seraphine, and Orianna were already waiting for him.
The water burst apart gently, depositing Ezreal onto the ground in a heap.
He stood awkwardly, brushing himself off and offering a sheepish grin to the group.
"So... you're a mage, huh?" he muttered, glancing at Ryan.
Ryan's abilities were no ordinary magic. Controlling water with such precision wasn't something just any mage could accomplish.
Ezreal had seen enough to recognize exceptional skill.
This time, however, he said nothing more. His usual chatter quieted as his focus shifted to their surroundings.
Dusty steps stretched out ahead, leading into an ancient corridor.
The underground world enveloped them in darkness, its vast expanse resembling a labyrinth of stone.
Pathways twisted and turned, vanishing into obscurity, leaving the destination of each a mystery.
Ezreal's eyes sparkled with recognition as he scanned the area. He stepped forward, his voice tinged with awe.
"This... this is Va'zuun!" he declared.
In preparation for his journey to the Tomb of Ne'Zuk, Ezreal had meticulously studied every scrap of information he could find on ancient Shurima.
Customs, burial practices, architecture—it was all stored in his mind.
Kneeling, he inspected the ground. The smooth, pale stones beneath their feet caught his attention.
"This type of stone is called white sandstone," he explained, his tone suddenly serious.
"It's made from sand using a specialized process. Each piece is handcrafted, and their precise dimensions suggest the craftsmanship of Shuriman builders 2,000 years ago. These stones were used exclusively in the roads of Shurima's core cities."
For once, Ezreal seemed like a different person—focused, thoughtful, and immersed in the history surrounding them.
Shurima was once the most powerful empire on the continent. To showcase its strength and grandeur, its core cities were constructed with strict precision.
Every brick was handcrafted by slaves, and any mistake was punishable by death.
The white sandstone beneath their feet stretched endlessly into the darkness, seemingly untouched by time.
Aside from a few cracks caused by the passage of centuries, the rest lay concealed under layers of soil and debris.
Even now, a mere glance at the craftsmanship hinted at the splendor Shurima once possessed.
"Two thousand years ago... it's hard to fathom how long that truly is," Orianna murmured, her Hextech eyes glowing faintly in the darkness.
"This city was once vibrant, full of life and prosperity. And now, it slumbers beneath the sands, waiting for the day it will see the sun again."
Her enhanced vision pierced through the shadows, revealing the scale of the underground world. The massive void before them preserved much of the ancient city's original beauty.
Exquisite desert architecture was scattered across the landscape, its wide streets crisscrossing the remnants of civilization.
Though dirt and dust blanketed the roads, and cracks marred the buildings, the city remained a testament to Shurima's glory.
"If I can restore sunlight to this place," Ezreal muttered, "my name will echo across Runeterra—equal to even Mount Targon itself."
He had activated his searchlight, and as the beam swept across the ruins, the city slowly came to life before his eyes. His heart raced at the prospect of uncovering forgotten history.
They began their exploration, moving through the once-great city.
Most of the surrounding structures were constructed from earth and stone, their yellow-brown hues reflecting the desert empire's signature style.
"There doesn't seem to be much left here..." Seraphine said hesitantly, guiding her enchanted platform closer to Ryan.
"And it looks like the city went through something catastrophic."
The deeper they ventured, the more the devastation became apparent.
Buildings on the outskirts had survived relatively intact, but those closer to the city's heart bore the scars of a brutal past.
Structures were shattered as if struck by immense force, and the streets were littered with deep craters and scattered sand.
"I've found it!" Ezreal's voice rang out suddenly, filled with excitement.
Ahead of them, illuminated by his searchlight, stood a massive, towering spire.
Wide steps surrounded the structure, leading up to intricately carved frescoes that flanked the sides.
At the center, a large sandstone gate loomed, engraved with mysterious symbols and runes.
Ezreal practically bounded up the steps, his eagerness barely contained. Reaching the gate, he examined the inscriptions, squinting at the unfamiliar script.
"Curse... curse..." he mumbled, tracing his fingers over the carvings.
Seraphine smirked from below. "Admit it, you don't recognize anything here except the word 'curse.'"
Ezreal puffed out his chest, unfazed.
"For explorers, 'curse' is the jackpot! If there's no curse, the place isn't worth exploring. Curses are the key to adventure!"
Ryan stepped closer, studying the carvings with quiet intensity. His voice was low as he whispered, "Ubdbwcxuaibrnb."
"What?" Ezreal blinked, confused.
Ryan straightened, his tone calm as he translated, "This is ancient Shuriman script, a language nearly lost to history. It reads: 'May Shurima prosper and seal disaster here forever.'"
Ezreal frowned, visibly deflated.
"No curse? Really?"
He crossed his arms, clearly disappointed. To him, a curse was the essence of a great story. Without one, the excitement felt diminished.
Ryan, however, continued his explanation.
"In ancient Shuriman, the words for 'curse' and 'disaster' are the same. Given the context, this building was designed to seal away some unknown calamity."
The group fell silent, the weight of Ryan's words settling over them.
"Seal a calamity..." Seraphine whispered, her voice tinged with unease.
Ryan nodded, his tone thoughtful.
"Ancient Shurima and Ionia were the cradles of the most powerful magics in Runeterra. Whether it was the natural forces of Ionia or the divine magic of Shurima, their essence was the same—pure Arcane."
"To truly understand magic, one must study their languages," Ryan continued.
"The Ionian tongue has endured through the ages, still taught and spoken today. But the ancient Shuriman language has almost entirely vanished, fractured alongside the empire. Modern Shuriman resembles the common tongue of Runeterra, bearing little resemblance to its origins."
He paused, glancing at the inscriptions again.
"I've only managed to piece together fragments of the language from ancient manuscripts in the Immortal Bastion. What we see here is a remnant of a world nearly erased by time."
Ezreal's adventurous spirit reignited. "Danger or not, we've got to go inside. It's been over a thousand years—whatever was sealed here must've withered away by now!"
Seraphine glanced nervously at Ryan while Orianna tilted her head, her expression unreadable.
Ryan's gaze lingered on the gate, his thoughts hidden behind his calm demeanor.
Whatever lay beyond the sandstone doors wasn't just history.
It was a piece of Shurima's forgotten magic—and possibly a key to its greatest mysteries.