I Built A Family of Beyonders Starting From Arcane

Where am I?

It hurts! It hurts so much!

A sharp pain coursed through Duke's foot as if someone were forcefully pulling at it. The pain was unbearable, radiating through his entire body, jolting his brain awake. His head throbbed in agony, his thoughts clouded by the pain. His face was caked with dust, but after a moment, the intense pain began to subside. Slowly, he regained his composure and looked around, his mouth falling open in shock.

Smoke rose to the sky, staining the air with ash. The sun burned overhead, casting a blood-red hue across the scene. Flames devoured the bridge, and countless bodies lay scattered on the ground.

His feet were tangled in corpses as he leaned against the side of the bridge. Faint shouts, followed by the crack of gunfire, echoed from all directions.

"Where the hell am I? Did that damn curse send me to another place?"

The surroundings were alien to him, yet an unsettling sense of familiarity lingered in the air.

As far as he could remember, he had never seen this place. Yet, there was an unsettling sense of familiarity about it. What was it?

He tried to get up, struggling hard. With great effort, he managed to stand, barely holding himself upright with the support of the bridge's railing. His instincts screamed at him to leave—this place radiated danger.

If I'm here, what about Seiko? he thought, panic creeping into his mind. I need to find her if the curse sent us to this place. 

His head was still fuzzy, but fragments of memory surfaced. Before being sent here, he and Seiko had been fighting against a massive alien invasion. Then, out of nowhere, a powerful ancient Yokai had awakened, obliterating the aliens and hurling them into this unknown place. 

"Duke, you all right?"

A hand suddenly grasped his shoulder, jolting him into high alert. Duke spun around quickly, only to be met with the sight of a large man with a beard. The man's gaze was heavy, filled with a mix of emotions that Duke couldn't quite decipher.

The mention of his name triggered something deep within him. Instinctively, he clutched his head as a sudden, intense pain surged through his mind, accompanied by a flood of information—memories—memories that didn't belong to him.

They were the memories of this body's original owner.

The onslaught of images and sensations finally slowed, leaving him reeling. He collapsed to the ground, his eyes wide with shock—not because of the memories themselves, but because of what they meant.

He wasn't in his own body anymore.

There was only one explanation that came to mind: he had died. Only a ghost could possess a living body.

Am I dead? How did this happen? And what about Seiko?

Seiko's fate concerned him more than his own. He had already experienced death once. The shock of facing it again was undeniable, but at least he could control his emotions better this time. 

If I'm dead, does that mean Seiko is dead too? But why didn't I realize it earlier? That curse was supposed to only send us to another place... no, another world. Could it be that the force was so powerful our bodies couldn't handle it? Or maybe the spatial tear destroyed our physical forms, leaving only our souls?

"Duke, are you all right? Talk to me!"

The man's voice broke through Duke's thoughts. He had been so lost in his musings that he almost ignored him.

The man was Vander.

In that instant, everything clicked. The familiarity that had been gnawing at him finally made sense. In his first life, Duke had been just a young man on Earth, and he vividly remembered a series adapted from a game. Vander was one of the characters from that series.

"I'm fine," Duke said, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside. With Vander's help, he slowly got to his feet.

Duke glanced at Vander briefly before turning his gaze forward. Vander wasn't just a stranger—he was his uncle, much like how Powder and Violet had treated him in the past. Duke's parents had been close friends of Vander, Silco, and the sisters' parents. His father was a Zaunite and a brilliant inventor, while his mother, a Piltovan, was a renowned writer.

Tragically, they lost their lives during an expedition to the Shuriman Continent, leaving Duke alone with a significant inheritance. He was meant to follow the sisters' parents to the topside as a guide, but their deaths brought more misfortune. Duke was branded a traitor for aiding Zaun, shattering his life even further.

"I'm sorry, kid. Because of me... you lost your home," Vander said, his voice heavy with guilt. Seeing Duke so quiet only deepened his regret.

The smoke from the fires hung in the air, the acrid scent of burning flesh and debris clinging to their surroundings. The devastation weighed heavily on Vander's heart. He wished, more than anything, that he could turn back time and stop all of this from happening. Sighing deeply, he adjusted his grip to support Duke more firmly.

"It's fine... it's my choice, after all, so it's my fault," Duke muttered softly, his voice heavy with resignation.

As the two continued walking, the war had already ended, leaving no Enforcers or Zaunites in sight. Ahead of them stood two girls. Powder was singing softly, her childlike innocence contrasting sharply with the devastation around her. Beside her stood Violet, holding Powder's hand tightly. Fear and shock were etched on her face, as though she couldn't believe the horrors she had witnessed were real.

An Enforcer wandered nearby, but before he could act, Vander appeared and swiftly subdued him. Without hesitation, Vander led the way to the sisters. When they reached them, he pointed toward the bodies of their parents.

The sisters ran to their parents' lifeless forms and broke down, crying uncontrollably. Duke sighed and knelt beside them, offering what little comfort he could. He had been their childhood friend, practically family to them, and in this moment, he shared in their grief.

"Let's go, Duke," Vander said, lifting the two sisters into his arms. The weight of the situation bore heavily on his heart, and he didn't wait for a response.

As Vander turned to leave, he noticed Duke wasn't following. Instead, Duke was standing still, staring intently at something in the distance.

There, amidst the smoke and ash, was the silhouette of a woman. She held two blades, one in each hand, and her figure was framed by the eerie glow of the burning wreckage. She wore an Enforcer's uniform, her white hair tied into a ponytail beneath an Enforcer's cap.

Vander narrowed his eyes, his expression tense. Then, suddenly, his eyes widened in alarm.

"That's... Run, Duke! I'll hold her back!"

"Who is she?" Duke asked, surprised by Vander's panicked reaction.

"Her name is Camille," Vander said grimly. "She's the strongest Enforcer—and the reason we've lost this war. Not even I can take her alone."

Without wasting another moment, Vander set the sisters down. He handed Powder to Duke and motioned for them to leave.

"Take them and get out of here. I'll hold her off. Now go!"

At the mention of Camille's name, something stirred in Duke's mind. Memories—or rather, knowledge—surfaced. Camille was one of the champions from the game he remembered, but she hadn't appeared in Arcane for reasons he could only speculate. However, there was no time to dwell on that now.

The sharp clang of metal clashing against metal jolted him back to reality. Duke tightened his grip on Powder, carrying her on his back, and started to run.

As they fled, he glanced over his shoulder. Vander was struggling, his movements slowing under Camille's relentless assault. She was dominating the fight, her strikes precise and overwhelming. It was clear Vander's life hung by a thread. 

"Can I still use that power?" he wondered. In a different body, he wasn't certain it would work, but he had no choice but to try. If he kept running, Vander would lose his life. Even though Vander was practically a stranger to Duke, the memories of the body's previous owner weighed heavily on him, compelling him to treat Vander as family. Besides, Vander was one of the important characters—crucial to his plans.

A fire ignited deep within his soul, and the air around him grew heavy. His hair flared upward, turning white, as two thick vertical stripes appeared across his eyes. A dark, jaw-like mask, adorned with sharp, skeletal teeth, formed on his face. His body grew slightly taller, his posture hunched, and his fingernails and toenails sharpened and blacked. 

Even his Zaun-style clothing morphed, taking on flame-like patterns that radiated a fierce energy.

"I wanna bolt, man, but I can't—I gotta save Vander, yo..." 

Vander was locked in a desperate fight against Camille. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he struggled to hold his ground. His metal knuckles trembled under the sheer force they endured. Even as the leader of the Revolutionary Army and a powerful fighter in his own right, he couldn't overpower a trained and enhanced enforcer.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a figure delivered a powerful kick to Camille, sending her flying.

"You gotta get outta here, yo. I'll hold 'em off, yo..." 

"Duke?" Vander's voice was filled with shock.

Before Duke could respond, a twin blade sang in the air In the blink of an eye, Camille closed the gap. Her twin swords sliced through the air in a flurry of precise arcs. Duke retreated frantically, ducking, flipping, and twisting with the cursed speed of Turbo Granny. Yet each dodge merely delayed the inevitable. 

Both turned to the inevitable fight. Vander was ignored now; Camille had already identified who posed the greater threat. Her twin swords danced through the air with deadly precision.

A flash of silver filled Duke's vision. Too late—her blade grazed his cheek, leaving a thin line of blood.

"If you're going to rely on magic," Camille said coldly, disappointment flickering in her eyes, "then learn to wield it with precision. This battlefield is no place for children."

"Why don't you just back off and let us go, woman, yo?" Duke muttered.

He glanced back to see Vander already running away with the sisters. A sigh of relief escaped him. He would hold out until Vander reached Zaun; then he could make his escape. Turning his attention back to Camille, Duke's mind wrestled with the strange overlap between her and Camille from his memories. However, the woman before him didn't appear to have undergone Hextech enhancement. That made sense—Jayce and Viktor probably hadn't invented Hextech yet in this timeline.

Even without Hextech, Camille was already this strong. He could only imagine how formidable she would become if enhanced. Perhaps she had received another form of augmentation. As far as Duke knew, Clan Ferros had also been studying crystals and developing lesser hex-crystals. Still, he couldn't be certain—after all, Arcane was an alternate universe from Runeterra Prime. 

"The audacity of Zaun, to spark a war only to falter and flee. Order must be maintained, and I shall ensure it!"

Camille lunged forward. Her blades sang as they sliced through the air, aiming to carve through the boy's defenses. Duke vanished from her path, propelled by a blur of supernatural speed. He reappeared a few feet away, crouching low and clutching his knees.

"Fast," Camille said, "But clumsy."

He kicked off the ground, his foot snapping forward in a vicious arc toward Camille's ribs.

Camille pivoted, her blades intercepting his strike. Sparks flew as supernatural energy met tempered steel. The force of the impact sent her skidding back a few steps, but her balance remained unbroken.

Duke's eyes widened. "She's... too strong, man."

Camille closed the distance in an instant. Her twin swords struck in a flurry of precise arcs, forcing Duke into a desperate retreat. He ducked, flipped, and twisted with every ounce of speed he had, but each evasion only delayed the inevitable. A glimmer of silver flashed in his vision, and he felt another sharp sting across his cheek.

Damn... I'm exhausted... His physical body was at its limit. The previous owner of this body had already been pushed to exhaustion, and now, forcing his powers only took a greater toll. They've escaped... I should run too.

As he was about to turn, Camille seemed to sense his intent. She rushed at him with blinding speed, one blade slashing his leg while the other swept low. Duke felt the world tilt as her second sword severed his ankle. A searing pain shot up his leg, and he collapsed to the ground, blood pooling beneath him.

Duke felt pain coursing through his body. His right foot was gone, severed cleanly. He glared up at Camille, fury and desperation burning in his eyes.

"This is the cost of your folly," Camille said coldly. "You ignited a war, only to lose everything you claimed to fight for." 

No, lady, I'm just a random passerby...

Camille stood over him, her expression unreadable. For a moment, she hesitated, her twin blades poised to deliver the final blow.

She then advanced for the finishing strike, but Duke, driven by desperation, gathered the last vestiges of his power. His form flickered, and he reappeared above Camille, delivering a downward kick infused with cursed energy. Camille raised both swords to block, but the impact was so powerful it drove her into the ground.

"You're persistent for a child," Camille said, her voice strained. Her augmented limbs trembled under the force of the blow, but she quickly rebounded, slashing upward and forcing Duke to retreat again.

"Persistent?" Duke spat, blood dripping from his lips. "I'm just trying not to die, yo."

The fight became a blur of motion. Camille's swords danced, each strike calculated to exploit Duke's faltering speed and deteriorating stamina. Duke's kicks and jabs grew erratic as exhaustion overtook him, the curse energy flickering like a dying flame. Finally, Camille feinted with her right sword, then drove her left blade straight at his heart.

In a last-ditch effort, Duke twisted his body, letting the blade graze his side. He seized the moment to deliver a devastating kick to Camille's shoulder. The impact shattered the joint, and her left arm fell limp, her sword clattering to the ground.

Camille gritted her teeth, blood staining her lips. "Impressive... but foolish." She swung her remaining blade with her good arm, forcing Duke to leap back.

Both combatants were battered and bleeding, their movements sluggish. Duke's missing foot left him barely able to stand, while Camille's useless arm dripped blood onto the rubble. They stared at each other, the weight of their injuries and the futility of the battle hanging heavy in the air.

"We're done here," Camille said at last. "Yield, and I'll spare what's left of you."

"I don't need your mercy."

"Then die a child," Camille replied coldly. She sheathed her remaining sword and turned away, her form rigid with pain and resolve.

Duke slumped to the ground, his vision swimming.

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.

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"Huff! Huff! A nightmare...?"