Arcane: Red Sands

---------the Past, 2 years ago, Shurima--------

theThe sun hung high in the vast Shuriman sky, an unyielding sentinel over the endless dunes of the Great Sai Desert. The Third Company trudged forward in tight formation, their boots sinking into the scorching sand. The heat was oppressive, wrapping around the soldiers like an iron fist, but they marched with discipline born from necessity.

At their head rode Captain Varros, his dark polished armor gleaming absurdly bright under the sun. Behind him, the soldiers grumbled quietly, their frustrations buried beneath layers of obedience and sweat-streaked exhaustion. Among them was Su'Rhaal, his twin blades strapped to his back, and Zanaiya, her spear resting against her shoulder as she surveyed the horizon.

The Desert Raiders, as they had begun to call themselves, were infamous for their brutal efficiency. Their victories came at great cost, leaving ruined villages and shattered enemies in their wake. But today, the company was restless.

"We've been marching for months," one soldier muttered, his voice muffled by the scarf protecting his face from the sand.

"Because Varros thinks glory's hiding under the next dune," another replied bitterly.

Su walked silently, his crimson eyes fixed forward. Beside him, Zanaiya cast a sidelong glance. "You're quiet today," she said.

Su grunted. "Nothing to say."

Zanaiya smirked faintly. "That's never stopped you before."

Before Su could reply, the sound of hooves broke through the quiet. A lone rider approached, his horse lathered with sweat and its eyes wide with exhaustion. The messenger dismounted as he neared, his face pale despite the sun.

"I bring orders from General Acheran!" he shouted.

--------------------------------

The soldiers gathered, murmuring as Varros dismounted and strode toward the messenger. The parchment was handed over with trembling hands, and Varros unrolled it with a flourish. His eyes scanned the text, his expression flickering with something unreadable.

"Captain?" Zanaiya prompted, stepping forward.

Varros cleared his throat. "Emperor Boram Darkwill is dead."

The murmurs grew louder, shock rippling through the ranks.

"A coup has taken place in Noxus," Varros continued, his voice strained. "Grand General Jericho Swain has seized control of the empire and established the Trifarix."

The soldiers exchanged uneasy glances, whispers spreading like wildfire.

"All forces are to return to Urzeris immediately," Varros concluded, his tone sharp. "Further instructions will follow."

A soldier near the front spoke up hesitantly. "Does this mean the campaign is over?"

Varros' jaw tightened. "No," he said firmly. "Darkwill may be gone, but his vision remains. We will continue with the mission. Glory awaits us in the ruins of Shurima."

Zanaiya frowned, stepping closer. "Captain, with respect, we're being ordered to return. We should—"

"Silence Lieutenant!" Varros barked, his voice cracking. "I will not have my command questioned! We march at dawn."

---------------------

The following day, the company reached their destination: an ancient Shuriman temple, half-buried in the dunes. Its towering spires loomed like skeletal remains, casting long shadows over the sand.

Inside, the air was thick and suffocating, the walls lined with faded carvings of the Sun Disk and its warriors. The soldiers moved cautiously, their weapons drawn as they ventured deeper into the ruins.

"This place feels wrong," a soldier muttered, his voice echoing in the chamber.

"It's just a tomb," another replied, though his grip on his spear tightened.

Su and Zanaiya moved together, their eyes scanning the darkness. The tension in the air was palpable, a weight pressing down on them with every step.

Then came the sound—a faint, chittering noise that seemed to come from everywhere at once.

The soldiers froze.

"What the hell is that?" one of them whispered, his voice shaking.

Before anyone could answer, the shadows began to move.

They came as an endless swarm, their shapes shifting and unnatural. Purple creatures poured from the cracks in the walls and the gaping darkness of the temple's depths. Their eyes glowed with a sickly light, and their movements were unnervingly fast.

The soldiers barely had time to react.

"Form up!" Varros shouted, his voice cracking with panic.

The company scrambled into a defensive formation, their weapons raised as the Voidlings swarmed them. The creatures were small but relentless, their claws tearing through armor with terrifying ease.

"Hold the line!" Varros screamed.

Su and Zanaiya fought at the front, their movements a blur of steel and precision. Su's twin blades cut through the creatures with brutal efficiency, while Zanaiya's spear moved like a serpent, striking with deadly accuracy.

But it wasn't enough. For every Voidling they killed, Hundreds emerged from the darkness.

"This isn't a fight we can win," Su said, his voice grim. "We need to retreat."

Varros turned to him, his face pale and his eyes wide with fear. "Retreat? Are you mad Lieutenant? We'll hold our ground!"

As the Voidlings pressed closer, panic began to spread through the ranks. A soldier near the edge of the formation faltered, and Varros, desperate to save himself, lashed out with his boot, kicking the man into the swarm.

The soldier's screams echoed through the chamber as the creatures descended upon him.

Su froze, his breath catching in his throat. The anger that had been simmering beneath the surface for months finally erupted.

"Coward!!!" he Screamed, consumed with rage.

Varros turned to him, surprise and terror evident in his face. "What are y-"

The words never left his mouth. In one swift motion, Su drew his blade and swung. The sound of steel cutting through flesh was sharp and final. Varros' head hit the ground, his lifeless body crumpling beside it.

The soldiers stared in stunned silence.

"We retreat!" Su commanded, his voice filled with resolve, despite the chaos.

Zanaiya ran forward, her voice ringing out. "You heard him! Fall back!"

-----------------

The retreat was chaotic. The Voidlings swarmed them, blocking the exit with their writhing forms. The soldiers' fear was palpable, their movements frantic.

Su turned to Zanaiya, their eyes meeting briefly. No words were needed. Together, they charged.

"VICTORY OR DEATH!" Su'Rhaal roared, his voice a battle cry that shook the chamber.

Zanaiya and the soldiers echoed his cry, their desperation turning to resolve. They fought with everything they had, their weapons flashing in the dim light as they carved a path through the swarm.

Su's blades moved like a whirlwind, each strike cutting down another foe. Beside him, Zanaiya's spear struck with unerring precision, her movements a deadly dance.

When they finally reached the entrance, Su shouted, "SEAL IT NOW!"

Explosives were placed, their fuses lit. The resulting blast shook the temple, sending clouds of sand and debris into the air.

--------------------------------

When the dust settled, the survivors stood in silence beneath the unforgiving sun. Of the 200 hundred who had marched into the desert, no more than 80 remained.

Su stood at the edge of the dunes, his twin blades still dripping with blood, It's Runes burning Crimson. The sun burned overhead, casting a harsh light over the devastation. Behind him, the soldiers murmured, their voices hushed with a mixture of awe and fear.

"we made it" one whispered.

Another nodded, his gaze fixed on Su's broad back. "He saved us."

But Su didn't feel like a savior. His chest heaved with exhaustion, his mind replaying the sight of his comrades falling, the screams that still echoed in his ears.

Zanaiya approached him, her spear dragging slightly in the sand. Her face was streaked with blood and sweat, her sharp eyes searching his.

"You did what had to be done," she said quietly.

Su's grip tightened on his blades. "Half of us are dead."

"And half are still alive," Zanaiya countered. "Because of you."

He didn't answer. His gaze drifted to the distant horizon, where the dunes stretched endlessly beneath the blazing sun. Noxus demanded victory, no matter the cost. And Su had delivered.

His grip on his blades tightened, his expression hardening. If this was the price of survival, so be it. He would bear the weight.

As the soldiers regrouped, their whispers continued. The Demon of the Desert. A name born of blood and fire, one that would follow him for the rest of his days, now had become something greater, a legend.

Zanaiya placed a hand on his shoulder, grounding him. "They'll remember this, Su. All of it. You gave them something to believe in."

He didn't respond, but for a brief moment, the tight line of his jaw softened. Then he turned back to the survivors, his voice cutting through the heavy silence.

"We live for Noxus," he said, his tone steady and unyielding. "And if the sands demand our blood, we give it freely."

The soldiers straightened, their hands gripping their weapons tighter.

"Victory or death," Zanaiya said, her voice quiet but resolute.

The words rippled through the company as the survivors repeated the Cry.

"Victory or death!"