A loud, blaring voice filled the darkness...
"…. Reini-initia-, Sequence Commen…. -"
"Nghh…. what the- "
Scarlet light burned through Inazo's eyes as he jolted awake. He laid in a dilapidated concrete cell, the light peeking through cracks, walls smeared with blood and spongy brown moss that drank it like elixir. Inazo stumbled on his feet as he gained his balance, his temples falling apart from a mind-numbing headache. As his vision cleared after the burning stopped, he saw a rusty door looming ahead. Its hinges shrieked as he slammed his weight against it. The door gave way with a metallic whine, hurling him onto a jagged rooftop.
The city below was a graveyard of collapsed buildings. Blood pooled in every crevice, corpses sprawled like broken dolls, their stomachs ripped open, entrails glistening in the sickly light. Sludge monsters—inky black sludges, their movements, a grotesque mockery of nature, oozing between debris, devouring flesh and bone. The air reeked of rot, clinging to his throat. He looked up at the sky to realise the source of the crimson ambiance. In the distant firmament laid the bleeding moon, luminance flowing out of what was supposed to be spherical. Inazo stared in awe, almost spacing out like he usually does.
Inazo stumbled back, pinching his arm hard. Pain shot up his nerves—real, sharp. This had to be nightmare, and yet his eyes wouldn't open any wider. He swallowed his spit to ease his parched throat, a lump going down his throat. Simply, going by the number of the sludges, escaping was the wisest choice. Every muscle in his body screamed: Run. And yet, he could only watch the horror unfold, stiff with fear.
With closed eyes and a few deep breaths, Inazo steeled himself against the horror, his knees firming beneath him. He began to move through the visceral display of carnage—half-eaten bodies strewn about, and some nothing more than bones wrapped in tattered uniforms. As he navigated past the sludge monsters, hiding behinds debris and remnants of pillars, his leg snagged on the outstretched hand of a half-dead soldier.
"Wait... young man… *cough*… please help".
The man's voice was barely audible, a series of laboured gasps, forcing Inazo to take a knee. "Take... badge, please" he wheezed, struggling to press a metal insignia into Inazo's hand. "To... The Ironclad General. He'll... understand." With his other hand, he threw Inazo a bean. "When things… go south...crush" he managed, his eyes dimming with the effort.
The old soldier rasped, his gaze drifting toward the roaming monsters. "Noxians…" He struggled to speak, coughing up blood. His words became indecipherable, lost between wheezes and coughs that pushed out clogged blood in his throat. But his intent was clear from his constricted pupils and the strain on his voice. "No use... fighting now…run."
He coughs a few more times before his gaping eyes lost signs of life. His lifeless, half-eaten form laid in Inazo's arms. The coughing had been loud enough, however. Noxians nearby paused mid-feed, their ink-like bodies rippling with interest. Inazo tried to bolt, but his movements caught their attention. The creatures surged toward him, their grotesque forms snobbishly slithering towards him. With a desperation born of fear, Inazo unsheathed his plasma forearm blades, flaring out from both sides. Inazo sprang into a seamless dance of destruction. He ducked beneath one Noxian's open swing, feeling the air against his face from the blow, then parried the claws of another. As he turned, his blade sliced through the air, severing tendrils and torsos alike, spraying inky ichor all over the scene. In a single, fluid motion, he pivoted to face a new threat, his blade biting deep into its body. The creature thrashed, but Inazo was already moving, his heels scraping against the ground as he spun away.
The Noxians staggered, momentarily stunned by the ferocity of his attack. But as he sliced through their forms, he saw the truth in the soldier's dying words: the Noxians regenerated from every wound, ink refilling their gaping wounds. Wave after wave, they kept encircling him, constricting his space to dance about, slowly choking him out with numbers. Overwhelmed by the futility, he cursed at his own weakness. His knuckles whitened as he clenched his fists in frustration, unwittingly crushing the bean.
A vortex opened around his feet, swirling with a light that seemed almost merciful compared to the despair around him. As he fell through the ground, he felt a weight settle in his chest—a grief for strangers and a guilt for escaping when others could not. A weight so heavy that it made him forget to even gasp or raise his eyebrows as he suddenly lost footing. The stars rushed past him like stretched out hyphens, a cold, impersonal expanse that seemed to mock his insignificance.
As Inazo hurtled through the void, his body tensed with the guilt of his inability and the anticipation of an impending crash. The emptiness around him was both disorienting and terrifying, his senses heightened in the weightless environment. A swirling mix of frustration, fear, and confusion churned inside him, intensified by the unending expanse of darkness outside.
"Why can I breathe here?" was the leading question on his mind. But, unlike the expected shattering impact, an unseen force grasped him, slowing his reckless trajectory with a strange, unyielding gentleness. The sudden deceleration left him breathless and bewildered.
Just as he was attempting to comprehend this unexpected turn of events, a playful chop to the back of his neck startled him. The voice that followed was a dry, sarcastic crackle. "Not this agai—," it began, before the speaker cracked her voice. "Ahem...Jeez, youngsters these days, always causing a ruckus. Free-falling through open traffic? Seriously? You a Narco' or sum'? Wouldn't be the first time, honestly. Leave it to your generation to mess things up, eh?"
Inazo turned to face his assailant, only to find himself staring at a petite young cop whose expression was a masterful blend of annoyance and amusement. Her uniform was neat and crisp, layered with a puffy jacket, her eyes sparkling with a casual authority that belied her size.
"Don't gimme that look," she warned with a sharp tongue, yet a noticeable glint of amusement in her eyes. "Yes, you're getting cuffed, and no, you won't be getting off that easy. You weren't born yesterday, and neither was I, okay? Now, hands behind your back, and don't even think about resisting."
As Inazo raised his hands in compliance, the officer secured his wrists with a practiced efficiency. Her movements were swift and precise, her eyes never leaving his face. The gleam in them was a warning: any resistance would be met with swift action. Inazo's gaze faltered, his mind reeling as he tried to grasp the sudden turn of events. Waking up in a crimson nightmare, free-falling through space and now, cuffed by a delusional officer. He stumbled along as the cop dragged him to a nearby pod.