Dust surrounds you, and the midday sun has been blotted out by the destruction Aatrox has wrought. War has broken out, and you are caught in the crossfire. Between both sides, you know that neither is ever the victor in conflict. Towering over you, his body pulsing vibrant red hues, Aatrox stomps towards you. He exudes malevolence, and as he confidently strides to you, you see his face betray no hint of emotion beneath his mask of anger. He taunts you for your pacifism.
Time slows, as he stands in front of you. He lifts you up to his head, and sneers angrily at you.
"You think your peace can defeat me, mortal?" Aatrox bellows, his breath smelling of pure heat and hatred, but you do not speak.
You place your hand calmly on his head, and his mask shatters, as his eyes widen ever so slightly with shock, and his sneer wavers a fraction of an inch. You feel the angry pulsing of the body Aatrox inhabits, corrupted to serve the Darkin within the weapon. Aatrox's centuries of bitterness, swallowing him whole over and over again, convulse through the body in angry red flashes.
His eyes close, as he lets the anger melt away for a brief moment under the gentle pat you have given him. As you slide your hand down his forehead, you can feel each individual groove and crack in his head, each telling a story of war and strife. Yet you dig deeper, and with your mere touch, expose what lies beneath his skin. His very being, a former Ascended who has been betrayed, wanting nothing but the release of death to end his suffering. Aatrox closes his eyes, and lowers his guard for a moment.
In this moment, you feel the absence of suffering. It feels like a weightless cloud, something that you could disperse with the slightest force. A massive weight has been relieved from Aatrox for the briefest of moments, and you feel the weightlessness in his soul from that brief moment. All too soon, it is over, and you feel the pain and sorrow come crashing back down as you lift your hand off of his head.
But with your hand, you have given the slightest of reprieves to an eternally tortured being, and you have taken just a drop of the endless torment Aatrox is destined to suffer. Aatrox opens his eyes, and they burn fiercely once again, but within those windows to his soul, you see a fraction of something more than the endless vengeance he is consumed by, and it slowly drips from his eye as a single tear, glinting from a stray sunbeam filtering through the battlefield's dusty skies. He sets you down, and strides past you without a word, pretending to have never met you, yet knowing he will never forget you.
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