League Of Legends/Arcane: Earthbound

Adam shivered uncontrollably, his breath misting in the freezing air as he stumbled through the snowy woods. The cold gnawed at him relentlessly, and every step in the deep snow sent a jolt of pain up his bare, frozen legs. His tank top and Batman pajama pants did little to protect him against the harsh environment. His toes, once numb, now stung with sharp needles of pain.

"I'm dreaming," Adam muttered through chattering teeth, trying to convince himself this wasn't real. "I've gotta be. No way I went to bed and woke up in… I don't even know where balls freezing."

But the freezing cold felt all too real, and so did the eerie sensation of being watched. He whipped his head around, his long brown hair slapping against his face. There! Blue eyes shimmered faintly in the shadows, too far to make out a form but close enough to send a shiver of fear down his spine.

"Who's there?" Adam called out, his voice cracking. The silence that followed was deafening, save for the wind howling through the forest. He pressed on, teeth clenched, scanning his surroundings for anything—or anyone.

That's when he saw the body.

It was a man, lying face down in the snow. His armor was dented and stained with blood, and his sword lay a few feet away, embedded in the frost. Adam's stomach churned as he approached.

"Hey!" he said, voice trembling. "Yo bro, are you okay?"

The man didn't move. Adam crouched down, hesitated, then pressed two fingers against the man's neck. Nothing. He was cold—too cold. Adam recoiled, stumbling back and falling onto the snow.

"Holy shit dead. He's fucking dead," Adam whispered, his voice quivering. "Oh, God…"

The biting wind cut through his pajamas, snapping him out of his panic. He glanced at the man's boots. Sturdy. Warm.'Disgusting, Adam,' he thought to himself, but his toes were already numb, and he knew he wouldn't last much longer barefoot.

"I'm sorry," Adam whispered, shaking as he began unlacing the boots. "God forgive me."

The boots were damp and smelled terrible, but once he forced them on, the warmth was almost immediate. His feet still stung, but at least they wouldn't freeze.

As Adam stood, he noticed the faint shimmer of those blue eyes again. His heart raced. He scanned the trees but saw nothing.

*You're losing it, Adam.*

He pressed on, only to find more bodies. Some were slumped against trees, others sprawled out in the snow, their weapons scattered around them. The realization hit him hard: there'd been a battle here.

'Was there a medieval war or something that went wrong' Adam thought to himself.

Adam hesitated but quickly checked the bodies for anything useful. His hands shook as he stripped off pieces of armor, choosing ones with no visible blood. He found a crude sword and a bow with a quiver of arrows, though his archery skills were laughable at best.

'Fuck it,better to be armed than unarmed maybe I'll find a shotgun or something,there's gotta be a cabin nearby'

He felt ridiculous an 18 year-old in mismatched medieval armor, a sword in one hand and a bow slung over his shoulder—but survival trumped dignity.

'Where the hell am I, Canada?'

The crunch of snow snapped Adam's head up. He froze. Up ahead, a large man with long brown hair and a thick beard was on his knees, gripping an enormous sword. He looked as if he were fighting something invisible, swinging wildly at the air. His roaring echoed through the forest, sending shivers down Adam's spine.

"What the…" Adam whispered.

The man's eyes burned red, glowing unnaturally in the dim light. Two men in matching armor appeared from the trees, moving to flank him. Adam's pulse quickened. He didn't know what was happening, but his gut told him it wasn't good.

Before the men could strike, two arrows whistled through the air, striking them both. Adam's breath hitched as a woman emerged from the shadows. Her hair was white with streaks of icy blue, and she carried a bow that seemed to be made of ice itself.

"That's not normal" Adam muttered to himself

The man with the red eyes roared one last time before his gaze cleared, the eerie glow fading. He locked eyes with the woman, nodded, and rose to his feet. Together, they turned toward the trees as more enemies emerged.

Adam ducked behind a tree, peeking out just enough to watch the chaos unfold. The two fought like nothing he'd ever seen before. The man cleaved through attackers with raw, brutal strength, while the woman moved with precision, her arrows never missing their mark.

*This isn't Canada,* Adam realized. *No way this is Canada.*

He started to back away slowly, but the crunch of snow under his feet betrayed him. Both the man and the woman snapped their heads toward him.

"Shit," Adam muttered. He cringed and tried to step away quietly, but the snow crunched even louder.

'Their definitely looking at me aren't they'

He turned around slowly, raising his hands in what he hoped was a disarming gesture. "Uh, hey there top of the morning aye," he said, forcing a nervous smile. "I'm… just passing through?"

The woman immediately nocked an arrow and aimed it at him.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa lady!" Adam shouted, waving his hands frantically. "I'm not a bad guy! I swear!"

The woman's icy gaze didn't falter. She released the arrow, and Adam flinched, closing his eyes.

But the arrow never hit him.

When Adam opened his eyes, he saw a bandit lying on the ground behind him, the arrow protruding from his chest.

"She… just saved me," Adam muttered in disbelief.

The pair approached him cautiously. Up close, the man was even more imposing—easily six-and-a-half feet tall, with muscles like a freight train.

The woman was the first to speak. "Who are you?" Her voice was cold, but not unkind. "What clan are you from?"

Adam blinked. "Uh… clan?"

The man narrowed his eyes. "Don't play games. Are you from Demacia? Noxus?"

Adam's confusion must have shown, because the woman's brow furrowed.

"I'm from Brooklyn," Adam blurted out.

The two exchanged a glance.

"Brooklyn?" the woman repeated, her tone skeptical.

"It's… not here," Adam said awkwardly. "Look, I don't know how I got here. One minute I'm in my bed, and the next I'm freezing my ass off in this… winter wonderland from hell."

The man stepped closer, his sheer presence making Adam shrink back. "Why are you in Freljord?"

"Frel-what?" Adam asked, then quickly added, "I mean, listen bud I just got here whereever here is."

The woman studied him, her icy blue eyes piercing. Finally, she lowered her bow. "You're lost."

"Big time," Adam said, exhaling in relief.

The man grunted. "You don't look like you'll last long out here."

"Yeah, no kidding," Adam muttered, pulling his makeshift cloak tighter around him.

The woman sighed. "We're heading to a nearby village. You can come with us until we get there."

"Really?" Adam asked, surprised.

"But if you try anything…" The man hefted his massive sword onto his shoulder. "You'll regret it."

"Noted," Adam said quickly.

"I'm Ashe," the woman said as they started walking.

"And I'm Tryndamere," the man added.

"Adam," he said.

"Adam of Brooklyn," Tryndamere said with a faint smirk.

"Sure," Adam said with a shrug. "Adam of Brooklyn it is."

Adam trudged along behind Ashe and Tryndamere, his breath forming pale clouds in the frigid air. Each step felt like a small battle against the biting cold, his mismatched scavenged armor doing little to protect him. His toes, though no longer frozen thanks to the dead man's boots, still stung with the memory of their earlier exposure. His tank top, even under the scavenged fur cloak, felt like a cruel joke against the Freljord's merciless winds.

Meanwhile, Ashe and Tryndamere walked with a strange ease that left him baffled. Tryndamere's broad back, completely bare to the elements, was as unyielding as the mountains in the distance. Ashe, though dressed more appropriately for the cold, seemed entirely unbothered by the freezing temperatures. Their steady pace was a sharp contrast to Adam's sluggish struggle.

"Could you guys slow down?" Adam called, his voice trembling from the chill. His Brooklyn accent stood out like a sore thumb against the harsh landscape. "I'm freezing my ass off back here!"

Ashe glanced over her shoulder, her expression one of mild irritation. "Keep up," she said curtly, her voice sharp as ice. "We're not slowing down for you."

Adam sighed, his feet dragging. "Easy for you to say. You weren't—" His sentence broke into a shiver. "You weren't walking barefoot in a blizzard five minutes ago."

Tryndamere chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that carried over the howling wind. "The weak will always find excuses," he said, his tone half-teasing, half-chiding. "Push through it, boy. Or stay behind. Either way, we're not stopping."

Adam clenched his jaw, frustration bubbling up. "Man, you're out here shirtless like you're on spring break in Florida. How the hell are you not freezing?"

Tryndamere didn't answer immediately, instead casting a quick glance at Ashe, who gave a small shrug. "The Freljord shapes its people," he said after a moment. "You either learn to endure, or you die."

Adam muttered under his breath, "Great pep talk coach." He quickened his pace, his feet crunching against the snow, doing his best to match their speed. Every now and then, he caught himself glancing over his shoulder, unable to shake the feeling of being watched.

Finally, after several minutes of awkward silence, Adam broke it. "Hey, um..." He hesitated, then decided to speak up. "Before I met you guys, I swear I was being followed by... something. I don't know what it was, but it had these glowing blue eyes. Creepy as hell. Did you guys see anything like that?"

The question made both Ashe and Tryndamere slow their steps slightly. The atmosphere grew heavier, and Adam noticed Ashe's hand instinctively tightening around her bow. Tryndamere stopped completely and turned to face Adam, his piercing blue eyes meeting Adam's with an intensity that made him swallow hard.

"You saw it?" Tryndamere's voice was low, almost a growl.

"I mean, I think so?" Adam replied nervously, holding his hands up in defense. "I don't know what I saw, but it felt like something was watching me. Following me. Blue eyes, glowing... Does that mean anything to you?"

Tryndamere's jaw tightened, his expression grim. "It means death was close."

Adam blinked. "Uh, what now?"

Ashe stepped forward, her voice calm but serious. "What you saw is known in the Freljord as 'the Watcher's Gaze.'also known as Kindred It appears to those who stand on the edge of life and death. If you saw it, it means death was reaching for you."

Adam's stomach dropped, his breath catching in his throat. "Death? Like, actual death? You mean the Grim Reaper or something?"

Tryndamere shook his head. "I do not know what you speak of. Here, death isn't some faceless figure. It's... something else. A force. A presence. It lingers in the Freljord, preying on the weak, the dying, and the lost."

Adam stared at them, his mind racing. "So, you're saying I almost died back there, and it showed up to, what, drag me off to the afterlife?"

"More or less," Ashe said, her tone matter-of-fact. "You're lucky you kept moving. Staying still in the cold would've sealed your fate. And once it truly takes hold, there's no fighting it."

Tryndamere nodded. "I've seen it before. Felt its pull." His voice lowered, almost reverent. "It tried to claim me recently."

Adam's eyes widened. "Wait, what? You fought it? Like, you actually fought death?"

Tryndamere's expression darkened, a shadow of old pain flickering across his face. "It wasn't a fight I chose," he said simply. "But yes. I stood on the edge, and I turned back. It's not something you forget."

Adam didn't know how to respond to that. He glanced between the two of them, his brain struggling to process everything. "You know, I thought I'd seen weird stuff in Brooklyn, but this? This is on another level."

Tryndamere chuckled again, though there was no humor in it. "Welcome to the Freljord, boy. It's not for the faint of heart."

"Yeah, no kidding," Adam muttered, rubbing his arms for warmth. His eyes darted to the surrounding trees, half-expecting to see those glowing blue eyes again.

"Focus," Ashe said sharply, breaking him from his thoughts. "You're still alive. Keep it that way. If you fall behind, we won't wait for you."

Adam sighed, quickening his pace again. "Man, I really picked the wrong day to wear pajamas."

Adam couldn't help but feel like a fish out of water. Sure, he wasn't exactly in the best situation to be chatty, but he couldn't stand the silence. The cold only made it worse. So, he decided to do what he did best—talk.

"So, uh," Adam began, his teeth chattering. "What's your deal, anyway? I mean, you guys seem... not normal. No offense. But, like, you're walking around like it's summer. Especially you, big guy. Shirtless in a blizzard? Come on, what's the secret? Do you have antifreeze in your veins or something?"

Tryndamere shot him a sideways glance but didn't reply, his expression a mixture of annoyance and disinterest. Ashe, walking a few paces ahead, didn't even turn around.

Adam huffed, not deterred. "Okay, fine. Don't answer that one. What about names? You know mine—Adam. Brooklyn-born and raised. Pizza capital of the world, by the way. You're Ashe, right? And you're, uh..." He paused, snapping his fingers as he tried to recall. "Tyler? Tyrone? No, wait... Tryndamere! Yeah, that's it,mouthful to be honest,What's the story behind that name? Sounds, uh, very barbarian-y."

Tryndamere's grip tightened on the hilt of his sword, but he still didn't answer. Ashe glanced back briefly, her icy eyes narrowing in irritation.

"Are you always this talkative?" she asked, her voice cutting through the wind.

Adam grinned nervously. "Yeah, sorry. It's kind of a coping mechanism. Talking keeps me from thinking about how my toes might be turning into popsicles right now."

Ashe sighed but didn't say anything more, and Adam took that as an opportunity to keep going.

"So, what's your deal? Are you two, like, siblings? Cousins? Partners-in-crime? Or is this, like, a Bonnie-and-Clyde thing? I mean, you kinda have this whole power-couple vibe going on."

Tryndamere let out a low growl, finally speaking. "You ask too many questions, boy."

Adam held up his hands defensively. "Hey, just trying to make conversation. You know, break the ice. Pun totally intended."

"Stop talking," Ashe said, her tone firm. "Save your energy for walking."

Adam frowned but obeyed—for about a minute. Then his curiosity got the better of him. "Fine, I'll talk about myself. Since you guys are all stoic and mysterious, I'll fill the silence. So, yeah, I'm from Brooklyn. Earth, if that means anything to you. Uh, I'm eighteen. Just graduated high school—barely, if we're being honest.

Adam trudged forward, his voice still going strong despite the frigid air biting at his lungs.

"I mean, I didn't exactly plan for my life to turn into *whatever this is*," Adam continued, gesturing vaguely at the snow-covered landscape. "One minute, I'm in bed, probably dreaming about pizza or something, and the next, I'm barefoot in the middle of Antarctica or wherever this place is. Brooklyn winters are bad, but this? This is next level."

Tryndamere muttered something under his breath, and Ashe gave him a sidelong glance, but Adam was too engrossed in his monologue to notice.

"Anyway, I used to work at this deli down the street from my house. Best sandwiches in Brooklyn. You'd love it—stacked meats, toasted bread, pickles on the side. I always got the employee discount, so—"

"Boy," Tryndamere interrupted, his voice low and menacing. "Do you ever stop talking?"

Adam blinked, caught off guard. "What? I thought we were bonding."

Ashe sighed, rubbing her temples. "We're trying to keep watch for bandits. Your constant chatter is distracting."

"Bandits? Like, actual bandits? Great. Just what I needed—more people trying to kill me," Adam muttered. He shoved his hands in his newly-acquired coat pockets and tried to keep quiet, though his mind raced with questions he desperately wanted to ask.

After several minutes of silence, Adam finally cracked. "Okay, but seriously. What's *your* story? I mean, I've been talking this whole time—least you could do is share a little about yourselves. Like, Ashe, you've got this whole ice-queen vibe going on. What's that about? And Tryndamere—big, scary dude with a massive sword—what's your deal? Are you some kind of Viking?"

Tryndamere let out a frustrated growl. "If you must know, boy, I am the king of these lands."

Adam stopped in his tracks, blinking in disbelief. "Wait, *king*? You're a king? Like, with a crown and everything?"

Tryndamere grunted. "Not that kind of king. Titles mean little here. What matters is strength."

"Cool, cool," Adam said, nodding slowly. "So, like, do you have a castle or something?"

Ashe spoke up this time, her tone sharp. "This is not a place of castles. We are in the Freljord. Survival is the only priority here."

Adam tilted his head. "Freljord? Is that, like, a country? A state? Or is this one of those fantasy worlds where everything is just...dangerous?"

Before anyone could answer, the sound of rustling snow caught their attention. Ashe froze, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the treeline.

"Bandits," she hissed, nocking an arrow onto her bow.

"Finally enough chatter," Tryndamere growled, drawing his sword with a metallic scrape.

Adam's stomach dropped as figures began to emerge from the shadows—rough-looking men armed with axes, spears, and crude swords. There were at least ten of them, all wearing tattered furs and grinning maliciously.

"Oh shit," Adam muttered under his breath. "Just what I needed."

Ashe didn't waste a second, firing an arrow that struck the lead bandit square in the chest. The man crumpled to the ground, his weapon falling from his hands. Tryndamere roared and charged forward, swinging his massive blade in a wide arc that sent two more bandits sprawling.

Adam, meanwhile, stood frozen in place, clutching the sword he had taken from one of the bodies earlier. His hands trembled as he watched the chaos unfold.

"Move, boy!" Tryndamere shouted, slashing through another bandit. "You have a weapon—use it!"

"I—I don't know how I just picked it off a dead guy!" Adam stammered, his voice cracking.

"Then learn fast!" Tryndamere barked, his eyes blazing with fury.

Before Adam could respond, a bandit lunged at him, swinging an axe. He barely managed to sidestep the attack, tripping over his own feet and landing in the snow. The bandit raised his axe again, but Ashe's arrow found its mark, dropping him instantly.

"Pay attention!" Ashe snapped, her voice cold and commanding.

"Right, yeah, sure—easier said than done!" Adam muttered, scrambling to his feet.

Another bandit charged at him, and Adam panicked, swinging his sword wildly. The blade connected, slicing across the man's arm and forcing him to retreat. The sight of blood made Adam's stomach churn, but he didn't have time to dwell on it.

The battle was over almost as quickly as it began. Ashe and Tryndamere stood victorious, surrounded by the bodies of their fallen enemies. Adam, on the other hand, was shaking, his sword still clutched tightly in his hands.

"Pathetic," Tryndamere growled, striding over to Adam. He grabbed him by the collar and lifted him off the ground with ease.

"Hey, hey, easy!" Adam protested, his voice high-pitched.

"You nearly got us killed," Tryndamere snarled, his face inches from Adam's. "If you're going to travel with us, you'd better learn to fight—or I'll leave you here to freeze."

He dropped Adam unceremoniously into the snow and turned away, his sword resting on his shoulder.

"Thanks for the pep talk," Adam muttered, brushing himself off.

Ashe walked past him, her expression unreadable. "Keep up, or we leave you behind."

Adam sighed, picking up his sword and following them. His legs felt like lead, and his hands were still trembling, but he forced himself to move.

"Great," he muttered to himself. "Stuck in a snowstorm with a barbarian king and an ice princess. What could possibly go wrong?"