It started with a spark. In Piltover, Jayce and Viktor stood over their Hextech stabilizer, trying to peer into parallel dimensions—not to open one, just to see. But with Hexcore involved, things never went as planned. The energy flared, overloaded, and ripped through the fabric of space. Not a crack into the Void—something older, wilder. A camp, a dragon, and a hill with a pine tree.

They didn’t fall through alone. Unfortunately.

Vi hit the ground rolling, fists blazing, ready to punch the world straight again. Caitlyn followed close, rifle raised, already scanning for hostiles. Ekko zipped in, wide-eyed and grinning. “Where the hell are we?” he muttered, eyeing the celestial bronze statues.

Heimerdinger clung to Isha’s shoulder, bushy eyebrows twitching. “Fascinating. This plane’s magic is… ancient. Raw.”

At Camp Half-Blood, alarms blared. The sky rippled above Thalia’s tree. Percy’s grip on Riptide tightened. “Not again,” he muttered, sprinting uphill as shapes emerged from the rift—half-machine monsters and people who didn’t look like monsters yet.

Annabeth intercepted Jayce with a knife to his throat. “Who are you and what did you just do?”

Vi intercepted Clarisse mid-swing, gauntlets clashing with her spear. “You punch first and ask questions never, huh? I like you.”

Leo nearly combusted when he saw Ekko’s gear. “Time travel?! On your wrist?! Dude, teach me!”

While chaos unfolded, Viktor collapsed, and Will was at his side instantly. “You’re dying,” Will said softly, magic glowing under his hands. “Let me help.”

In the middle of it all, Isha stood quietly, eyes glowing as she touched the ground.