Names such as the World – Ender, the Darkin Blade and even God – Killer are mere titles that Aatrox wears. Yet behind his grotesque form, far beyond a simple mindless beast, lies a being hardened by anger. One driven by madness and despair longing for the sweet release of death.

Once they were Ascended, God – Warriors of the fallen Shuriman Empire. Their appearance noble and true yet none more so than mighty Aatrox. A vanguard to every battle. He would be first to clash his sword against any that threatened the empire. Wings adorned with the golden light of dawn, armor that sparkled like constellations, all eerily reminiscent to the Targonian Aspects from the west.





"Such similarities may help understand what the underlying motive the Targonians have in aiding with the construction of the Sun Disc, the source of Shurima and the Ascended’s power."

The Ascended towering over mortals, empowered by the Sun Disc, wielded both magic and blade were accompanied by fierce warriors made Shurima a force to be feared of. Aatrox himself wielded the noblest of weapons, the sword which he carried to every battle. Leading ten thousand mortal men to certain glorious victory. Yet despite such overwhelming power history has warned us that even the mightiest empire crumbles beneath the weight of time.

First there was the Rebellion of Icathia which turned to a massacre when the unknown Void were released upon Shurima, unbridled from their Icathian masters, seeking the demise of all life. The war waged on countless of years, blood was spilled, loses were grave for both Shurima and its Ascended. Still the Targonian Aspects looked on as chaos erupted in the east. Maybe this was the war the Aspects foresaw in the distant future. The truth they hid from the Shurimans about the Sun Disc. Did the Aspects guide an entire empire to be their weapon against the impending arrival of the Void?

"Fall of Icathia"

Believe this or not, the truth of the matter is that Shurima survived, sealing shut all the Void rifts in Icathia. The victory however was bittersweet for the empire and its surviving Ascended, now self-called the Sunborn, were forever changed by the Void. Like they lost apart of themselves in the carnage, the bloodshed. Not long after, Azir, the mortal Emperor of Shurima, fell, murdered, just a few steps from his own Ascension. Betrayed by treacherous hands that he trusted and considered a brother. Soon Shurima itself followed suit to this tragedy.

It had been years since Aatrox’s kin traded away their humanity to better service the empire. Without the terrors of the Void to combat nor an emperor to defend. The Ascended were left the crumbling ruins of their great empire. Slowly withering away, duty and purpose became jealousy, madness and paranoia. Amongst the confusion, they turned on each other using self-taught forbidden sorceries while disfiguring themselves with blood magic. Remaking their once glorious form to that of the grotesque beings we know now.

"In the eyes of mortals, they were nothing more than rabid dogs fighting over a decayed corpse."

And like dogs they were hunted down by the very beings that made their ascension to godhood a reality. The Aspects had grown weary of the increasing threat they posed. Even the humans that long ago rallied under the Ascended, have given them a new accursed title. One befitting their fall from grace. The Darkin they say, roughly translated as “The Fallen” in the old tongue.

The Aspects however looked suspiciously prepared in handling the Darkin scourge. The Aspect of Twilight betrayed and carved out the heart of a Darkin after he become human once more. But not before manipulating him in destroying his very own kind with the use of moonlight. She even bestowed upon the mortals the very means in trapping a god. While the Aspect of War raised up armies to meet the Darkins in battle. And in one such battelfield, he met Aatrox.

"They were hunted down, slaughtered or imprisoned"

Up till now he had only killed his fellow Darkins and some Spirit God but never an Aspect. Aatrox, relishing the thought of slaying one, charged fearless to Pantheon. However, he felt his sword pull his very essence towards it. He resisted all he could but the force was greater than a thousand dead suns. In the end, the Aspect of War stood victorious against the Darkin Blade that now imprisoned Aatrox.

Thereafter, the Darkins were either killed or bound with their weapons. Soon even their acts of terror became only legends and the once feared God-Warriors of Shurima were but a footnote in history, scarcely remembered by few.

His power, his limbs, his future erased by the Aspect. The suffocating darkness, the numbness and maddening silence was all he had now. He was condemned to this horrid fate that even death gave no relief.

Still Aatrox endured his entrapment, though lacking a physical form left him idle as the seasons change, until he was discovered by a foolish fellow that dared touch such accursed blade. Aatrox surged out from the sword to the man's body seizing control. He gained form again but the body still felt like a prison. It was fragile, too weak to handle the power Aatrox had. It broke down, drained from all life and force him back to the blade motionless.

He needed a better body, more blood, more flesh to reforge his former likeness. Through trial and tribulations, he manipulated humans the best he could. Grooming them to be stronger, more capable vessels for him.

“Aatrox bided his time, inching closer to what he once was yet the longer he did the more did his body turned to a mockery of himself.”

For the day of reckoning had arrived, and Aatrox marched onward to Mount Targon. His eyes set on the mountain's peak, where the Aspects came from, but there at the outskirts he met a familiar foe. Pantheon, the Aspect of War, again stood before him. Their battle was fierce, each hit roared across the sky and every strike tore through the armies of men. The fighting raged on until the Darkin Blade found its mark on Pantheon’s chest. A blow powerful enough to carve out the stars. Aatrox was triumphant. The revenge he so desperately craved was his, yet no amount of death could ever satiate him till freedom was within his grasp. He left the dying Aspect to suffer slowly as he had. For everything that the Aspects have done to him, they didn’t deserve a quick painless death.

Aatrox continued to ravage the land and harass the nearby Rakkor Tribe. He was the one that forced the barbarians down against the Rakkors. All this to draw out more Aspects from the mountain peak. To his surprise, Pantheon showed up, his body bruised and battered. Aatrox felt something different from him. This Pantheon was more human than divine. The Aspect was gone, but still the human host Atreus persevered. The resilience of mortals at full display, but how could a lowly man equal in strength a god like him? He openly mocked him for such a pathetic act. Despite the big difference in power, man’s enduring will to survive bested the Darkin. With one fell swoop from his celestial spear, Pantheon severed Aatrox’ sword arm from its socket. He tasted defeat a second time against the Aspects.

"Aatrox once again found himself inside the sword."

A cell he could never truly escape. His mind sank deeper into isolation. Each attempt he tried to unravel the secret rendered pointless. The magic that bound him was far too great. Desperation crept towards Aatrox while he lingered on in the dark, waiting for his next vessel.

He reflected on his past. The Aspects were the reason for his suffering. How the world he protected had turned its back on him. Everything was an enemy and he wanted to destroy it, including his own tragic life. For he has a sliver of hope. If he brings the end of the world, its destruction could also end Aatrox and his accursed blade's existence.

“Aatrox raises again with renewed purpose and another body, ready to bring the world to the brink of destruction.”

As a side note:

Currently Aatrox’s whereabouts are unknown. Rumors have spoken about a “Horned Figure” that terrorized the local barbarian tribes in Freljord. The tribes are known for being good warriors, especially their Barbarian King Tryndamere, whose prowess as a warrior is unmatched and is seemingly unkillable. An ideal vessel of Aatrox. Despite this, know full well that where there is war or carnage, look closely for Aatrox, the World-Ender, maybe in the thick of battle.