I finished the Mission 1 easier than I thought - the guard bullets did not do much damage, which I had to blame game/movie logic though blunt force trauma was very much a thing. Luckily, the first few were just unconscious and removing them from the battle was considered 'safe' already. When serious injuries came in, Darkin magic was ready to at worst prevent death.
It did, however, cause a tiny commotion, which happened to be-
"Get away from him!"
-occasional hysterics. Granted, the blood magic did look a bit cult-like and especially unnatural to people not used to it. Which was to say, most people here. While these random thoughts swirled, I was haphazardly closing wounds after cleaning them out and magicking blood to fly to places that it needed to go.
Speaking of magic, the new ability granted by the mission was great and all but felt like quite restrictive and, the horror as indication, not great at first impressions. Luckily, being in a state of healing prevented any interruption. The workout that was quickly healing and shadow stepping back into a battle zone happened to be useful as both a stamina and quick-thinking test. As the rescues piled up, both lighting sides eventually realized that someone was 'kidnapping' their numbers.
Fortunately for all parties involved, the truce happened after I somewhat got used to blood magic and before inevitable deaths on the battlefield. Only-
"Capture that man! Outsiders should not have interfered in our matters!"
- yelled a generic-looking Uppercity officer. Of course, that was much easier said than done, since none of their militia were healthy enough to pursue. Nonetheless, I was a bit annoyed at this person's ungratefulness.
"Bang!"
Thus, a warning shot must be sent. The officer jumped aside, quickly hiding behind a shield-bearing guard. I did not bother with the ensuing alarm and slipped away again.
Back in the Temple, which happened to be the perfect domain of the shadow, I was yanked away just in time before a gas bomb made contact. The more or less healthy crowd nearby scattered. The Mission count did not decrease, so I let them.
"Why did you bring us here? There must be a price for healing us."
I scrutinized the person asking - I didn't have to, really. It was the familiar face of Silco, who looked odd without his missing eye. I approached him, and strolled right pass - credit to the guy, he did not falter.
Blood coagulated from the open wounds. Darkin magic was interesting, in that a practitioner could 'feel' the vitality, or life of others., but at times that was inconvenient This made it quite tempting to, say… pull all that out of the person opposite myself. The feeling was familiar to having filthy contact with one's skin, especially because not many humans here had a 'pure' feeling to them.
Silco was one of those very few. I found a smirk made its way up my lips.
"Only amusement, I think." I half-lied. Making a grabbing motion, the thin man was pulled forward as illustration. "I won't be staying here much longer, if that makes you people feel better."
Before Silco got up to retort, a 'ding' sounded in my mind. 'Elementary Darkin Magic evolved to Primary Darkin Magic'. This time, unlike when I received the first version, celestial power and another force from underneath flowed towards myself. They mixed and at moments cancelled eachother out, morphing all inner organs as they did so. To people around, I collapsed onto the ground, unconscious and non-responsive.
It was a bit reminiscent of the first time shadow magic was engraved onto me, except instead of mainly skeletal. Darkin magic morphed and made malleable both flesh and structure. Before my skin, muscle and bones could sew themselves together, I forced them apart - after all, looking like a demonic creature would bring more harm than good. For less visible parts such as the torso or spine, though, I let the magic do its thing.
The magic finally settled, leaving my balance completely off. The sudden contraction did not change mass, but density of flesh and body volume. The parts affected shrunk comparatively and had jagged lines upon them, presumably when all muscles meshed together.
The transformation was not completely irreversible, but merely impractical to be done in short notice.
Crimson cuts jagged across my skin, exposing the flesh underneath, Not a drop of blood pooled out, while the wound dried out to merely a crack. The flesh underneath threatened to break through the surface with every movement, tearing the flimsy outer layer with it. Every time this happened, however, I healed faster and more painlessly, until moving merely felt like an army of ants crawling over the skin rather than tearing apart an open wound.
At this stage, a blaring sound sounded in the mindspace. Those around me had mysteriously fallen asleep, black tendrils spouting from the few conscious bodies. They all had glowing marks from their eyes and otherwise shrouded in darkness, casting an inquisitive gaze upon myself. It was odd, because I did not show… but of course.
Blood magic - thought to be lost for centuries, signature for one of this organisation's elite - appearing in this place would be odd, if not alarming. Slightly worrying was the fact that my shadow was confined to this place, unable to penetrate the thorn walls.
Before the voice could finish the "Emergency Extraction Protocol: Should you accept…", I responded with 'Yes, yes and yes. Get me out of here.'
It was the shadowy figures' turn to be surprised. My vision lit up until I saw no more, and my senses were gone. Moments later, I was returned to Gryffindor's dorm. Only the briefest marks left by the transformation and, worrying enough, a sizzling wound that reeks of dark magic remained. There was just the most unsettling feeling, judging by the incomplete mission, that I was not done with that world.
*****
Extracts from 'The Twin Cities' by Professor Hermedeinger
'Mysteries of the Second Century CE:
The Secret Savior
Approximately year 190 since Piltorver's founding, a series of uprisings led to the independence of Zaun. At the first and largest of these conflicts, Zaun expelled Piltover guards and fought to close down the bridge. Many survivors recounted being "mysteriously saved" by a cloaked figure, which included one of the two leaders.
This 'Savior' supposedly moved a large number of wounded from both sides from the Bridge to the Temple of Janna underneath Zaun. Traces of magic could be found on serious wounds, and all of those delivered to the Temple survived. It remained a mystery as to who this 'Savior' might be, why and how they saved the wounded.
Later theories include: Alternate Universe traveller, Early form of Hextech and Ionian magic. I am more inclined to believe that it was a great stroke of luck and answering this mystery is of little use to appreciate the indelible mark it made on our shared history…'