League Of Legends/Arcane: Earthbound

A/N:If we reach 20 power stones today I'll upload 3 more chapters also I might make a patreon where I'll upload a chapter everyday instead of 3 chapters a week on Webnovel

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The final day aboard the trade ship dawned with a flurry of activity. Adam barely had a moment of peace before a rough hand shook him awake, jostling him from the thin, scratchy hammock he'd been given.

"Get up, stowaway!" came the familiar growl of Brant, the burly sailor who seemed to take particular joy in making Adam's life miserable. "The captain says you're on deck duty. Plenty to do before we hit Piltover tomorrow."

Adam groaned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His entire body ached from days of grueling work, muscles sore from hauling crates and scrubbing decks. He sat up, glaring at Brant's smirking face.

"Yeah, yeah, I heard you," Adam muttered, swinging his legs over the side of the hammock and planting his feet on the creaky wooden floor.

Brant chuckled and slapped him on the back—hard. "That's the spirit. Now move it, before I throw you overboard for being lazy."

Adam rolled his eyes but didn't push his luck. He trudged up to the deck, greeted by the crisp morning air and the endless stretch of ocean around them. The salty breeze was almost enough to distract him from the bruises decorating his arms.

As he got to work, coiling rope and helping secure barrels, he found himself slowly learning the names of the crew. There was Brant, always yelling; Mara, the sharp-tongued navigator who had an uncanny ability to predict the weather; Dallan, the ship's carpenter who had a fondness for crude jokes; and a handful of others whose faces had blurred together over the long, exhausting days.

And then there was the captain.

Captain Thaddeus Morn was a man who commanded attention without needing to raise his voice. His long beard, streaked with silver, gave him a regal, almost mythic presence, and his sharp eyes missed nothing. Adam had quickly learned that, while Morn was tough, he was fair. Unlike Brant, the captain didn't bully—he simply expected Adam to pull his weight, and if he failed, there was no sympathy, only more work.

That evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, the crew gathered on deck for their meal. The sea was calm, the sky streaked with fading orange and purple hues. The smell of salted fish and hard bread filled the air, and for the first time all day, there was laughter.

Captain Morn leaned against the railing, pipe in one hand and a mug in the other. His voice, deep and rich, carried over the chatter of the crew.

"I'll tell you, lads," he began, "there are things in these waters that'd turn your hair white just lookin' at 'em. I've seen ships swallowed whole by beasts bigger than cities. Krakens with tentacles that could crush a hull like it was paper. And the Leviathan? Gods help us if you ever see that monster."

A few of the sailors exchanged glances, some amused, others uneasy. Adam leaned forward, caught up in the tale despite himself.

Morn took a slow drag from his pipe before continuing. "Back in my day, it was tradition to toss a bit of food into the sea when crossing deep waters. Not just an offering—more of a reminder to the old beasts down below that we're not worth the trouble."

Dallan let out a bark of laughter. "Superstition, Captain. The sea doesn't care about our scraps."

Adam smirked. "Yeah, sounds like nonsense to me."

Morn exhaled a plume of smoke, his sharp eyes flicking to Adam. "Superstition, eh? You'll learn soon enough, lad. The sea has a way of humblin' even the proudest of men."

Something in his tone sent a chill down Adam's spine, but he quickly brushed it off. It was just an old sailor trying to scare him.

Later that night, Adam was on night shift. It was one of the worst jobs, made worse by the eerie stillness of the open sea at night. The ship groaned and rocked gently, and the only sounds were the rhythmic lapping of waves and the occasional call of a seabird.

Adam pulled his jacket tighter around him, cursing the cold. He was hauling a coil of rope across the deck when he noticed something strange on the horizon.

A storm was gathering, dark clouds rolling in fast. Lightning flickered within them, illuminating the ocean in short bursts. At first, it looked like just another storm. But then he saw it.

Something massive loomed in the distance, barely visible against the stormy backdrop. A silhouette—an unnatural, shifting shape, like an octopus with wings. And then he saw them.

Red eyes.

Two burning, soulless eyes locked onto him from the darkness, cutting through the storm with terrifying clarity.

Adam's breath caught. He couldn't move. He couldn't look away. His mind screamed at him to run, to hide, but his body refused to obey. It wasn't just fear—it was something deeper. A presence that pressed down on him, making him feel like nothing more than an insect beneath its gaze.

His fingers scrambled for something—anything—and landed on a half-eaten piece of bread in his pocket. Without thinking, he hurled it overboard.

The moment it hit the water, the next flash of lightning came. And the figure was gone.

Adam stumbled back, gasping for breath. His heart pounded in his chest, his hands trembling. He gripped the railing, trying to steady himself, but his legs felt like they might give out.

"What the fuck was that?" he whispered.

When his shift finally ended, Adam rushed to the galley, still pale and shaken. The crew laughed as he tried to explain what he'd seen.

"You've been listening to the captain's stories too much," Mara teased, shaking her head.

Dallan smirked. "A bad dream, lad. Nothing more. Happens to all greenhorns when they first hear those tales."

But Captain Morn didn't laugh.

He sat in silence, watching Adam carefully. When the story was finished, he motioned for Adam to follow him.

Inside the captain's quarters, Morn shut the door, then turned to face him. "What you saw out there… that wasn't a dream."

Adam's mouth felt dry. "Then what was it?"

Morn sighed and removed his jacket. A jagged scar ran across his chest, long and deep. "That mark? Came from a creature not unlike the one you saw. No man, no ship, no army could stand against it. And yet… it didn't kill us. Not because we were strong, but because we were insignificant. Just a speck in its path."

Adam swallowed hard. His mind raced, trying to process what he was hearing. If that thing was real… if monsters like that truly existed in this world…

Morn clapped a hand on his shoulder. "You're lucky, lad. If that thing wanted you dead, you'd already be in its belly. Remember that."

Adam left the captain's quarters in a daze. He lay awake that night, staring at the wooden ceiling above him, thoughts swirling. He had come to this world expecting challenges, but this? This was something else.

The ship's horn cut through the early morning silence, startling him.

He bolted upright and rushed to the deck, where the crew had already gathered.

"There it is," Mara said, pointing ahead.

Adam followed her gaze—and his breath caught.

Piltover loomed on the horizon, its golden towers stretching toward the sky, gleaming even under the dim morning light. It was a city of innovation, a place where progress and ambition reigned. But below it, shrouded in shadow, lay Zaun. Even from a distance, the contrast was stark.

This was the next step in his journey. A new city, a new challenge.

But now, as he stared at the distant skyline, Adam couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't stepping into a new beginning.

He was stepping into something much bigger than himself.