This is my first ever fan-fiction, so I hope it doesn't suck. Please please please leave criticism. All is accepted. :)

Enjoy! :)

"I Never Think About Losing!"

There is a place where the events of ruthless man-slaughter are abundant, a place where the merciful fall short and the relentless are deemed victorious. It is the Summoner's Rift, a wide expanse full of tall, looming trees, mystical creatures and limitless bloodshed. In the middle of a thick forest, a magical golem leans upon a blood stained tree, toying and playing with a cracked sniper scope it picked up earlier.

"Welcome to Summoner's Rift!" a voice boomed across the land. On each side of the expanse, five combatants readied themselves to fight to the death on the Fields of Justice. At the south of the Rift, a burly warrior shouted at his teammates.

"We will fight with dignity, integrity and honor!" The man raised his bulky sword into the air, cried out and charged out of the south stronghold.

"Good luck, brother!" A blonde-haired girl shouted after him. She turned toward the pathway heading east and ran after her partner from Piltover.

"Stupid Demacians. Hurry up, you little mutt." A young, red-headed woman scowled.

"These claws needed sharpening," The hound sneered, "You'd be surprised how easy human flesh tears, Ms. Du Couteau." The two headed out of the main entrance of their headquarters, turned off the north road and headed into the forest. They ventured deeper and deeper into the blooming woodland. The trees grew taller and darker as they followed the path to their destination. After many twists and turns, they found it, the Elder Lizard's bonfire. Behind the pit of flames stood an old shriveled up creature. Beside the Elder, two smaller lizards stood proudly, wooden staffs firmly gripped.

"Let's do this, Warwick." said the crimson-haired woman.

"On your signal, Katarina." grinned the chestnut furred werewolf.

Meanwhile, Syndra was readying herself for her future encounter with the Sinister Blade. She could feel the magic in the air. She knew how powerful she was. From wall to wall, the entire place was laced with Mana Crystals. Inside Summoner's Rift and the Institute of War, Katarina's blades cause mere cuts when thrown from the distance she usually kept at. But Syndra knew better. Outside this container, outside this prison, Katarina could toss her blade and kill someone with merciless precision. But those feats were nothing. The Dark Sovereign is a walking god! She could take over any standing empire there is. Noxus! Demacia! Heck, even Piltover wouldn't stand a chance against her immense power! But she knew turning the world against her would only result in her timely defeat. Her powers still had time to grow. She was starting to feel very jittery around Malzahar. She knew the feeling, the feeling of her power increasing. But she also knew her powers were being dampened. Those attempts to do so were useless. She had knowledge of her growing and newly found powers. That was all she needed.

"I know you're just begging to be let out of here, but trust me, it will never happen." Syndra opened her eyes to see the scarlet-headed assassin taunting her, every word dripping with scorn.

"If I was let out of the Institute I would kill you from the inside out." Syndra smiled coldly without flinching. Syndra's Summoner granted her vision of the tall, grassy shrubs on her left, allowing her to see the enemy Warwick waiting for a sign from Katarina that Syndra was ready to be ganged and inevitably killed. But Syndra was having a grand time dodging her enemy's flying blades and pressuring her with spheres of dark matter. Warwick was also tired out; he'd just be caught trying to steal the Blessing of the Ancient Golem in the allied jungle. The Dark Sovereign breathed in deeply.

"Immense power is fun! You should try it sometime!"

Warwick found himself getting knocked back, a sphere made of dark matter formed before him. He had never gotten used to the feeling of being pounded by those things. They looked so soft, like a ball of cotton candy. But they were heavy, immovable and as hard as rock, if not harder. The feral beast tried to scramble to his feet, but pain shot through his thighs, another ball of matter crushed his legs. He looked at his assailant, her purple eyes glowing with fury.

"I'm coming!" Warwick heard Katarina scream. Syndra flicked her hands in his direction, and with that, a gathering of dark matter sped towards his head and shot through his skull like a bullet. The werewolf dropped to the floor lifeless.

"First Blood!" the firm voice of the announcer rang through-out the Rift.

The Sinister blade cursed under her breath and threw a knife at the Sovereign, the blade sticking into her shoulder. Syndra cried out, alarmed at the sudden pain shooting through her arm. She raised her other hand, commanding a ball of dark matter to exist. Katarina simply spun to the side, avoiding the sphere. With quick succession, she blinked to her victim, a technique her father taught her when she was young.

"Back off!" Syndra waved her working arm, pushing Katarina away a few meters.

Pull the blade out of your arm. I've given you advanced healing. Syndra's favorite Summoner knew exactly what to do in the worst situations. The Sovereign gripped the handle of the knife and wrenched the blade out of her shoulder. Syndra moaned with satisfaction as her wound closed up and her skin was back to glowing, pearly perfection. She rolled her shoulders and extended her arms outward, fingers stretching, maximizing her arms length. All strength was drawn in. Two dark spheres were commanded into existence. Katarina jumped and lunged into a roll, throwing out two knives in Syndra's direction. Syndra ducked quickly, dodging the blades spinning towards her.

"Insolent fool! You die to my hand!" Syndra shouted and commanded her spheres to attack the assassin. Katarina stood and accepted her fate. After many, many matches with Syndra she knew that no matter how far she ran, even if she ducked, even if she hid behind her turret, those balls would get her. The five spheres charged towards her. The first hit her stomach, sending her flying. The rest battered her mid-air. Breaking her shin, crushing her ribs, and the final blow bashed her skull in. Katarina laid there. Busted, broken in many places and dead.

"Purple Team double kill!" the announcer's voice pierced the air of the arena.

Meanwhile on the bottom lane, the Lady of Luminosity overheard the Sheriff of Piltover grumbling and cursing. At first Luxanna thought she was upset because Katarina and Warwick gave Syndra two kills, but Caitlyn had been upset even before the match had officially started.

"An ally has been slain." The grave voice of the announcer informed the Rift.

"Good game," Caitlyn groaned, "good bloody game."

Purple team won by a team kill-score of one-hundred and two to eighty-six, led by Syndra's breathtaking score of thirty-two kills and one death. It was a good day for Purple team.