The void does not speak, It devours. Cho’Gath stands atop a shattered battlefield, his massive frame casting a shadow over the ruins. His claws drip with ichor, the remnants of those who dared to oppose him. The air is thick with the scent of decay, the ground littered with fragments of armor and bone. Somewhere in the distance, the faint hum of hextech machinery echoes—a feeble attempt by mortals to reclaim what they have lost. Cho’Gath tilts his head, his many eyes glowing faintly as he scans the horizon. The void hungers, and he is its vessel.
Long before the League of Legends, before the summoners bound his essence to the Rift, Cho’Gath was not a creature of this world. He was born of the Void—a realm of endless hunger and chaos that exists beyond the boundaries of reality. The Void is not evil; it simply is . It consumes because it must, feeding on the light and order of existence to sustain itself. And Cho’Gath, one of its earliest creations, embodies this insatiable appetite.
His origins are shrouded in mystery, even to himself. What he knows is this: he was forged from the raw energy of the Void, his body a living weapon designed to breach the walls between realms. His claws were made to rend flesh and stone alike, his maw a bottomless pit capable of swallowing entire armies. He was not created to think or feel but to consume—to reduce all things to nothingness.
Yet, as time passed, Cho’Gath began to change. The act of consuming brought him more than sustenance; it brought awareness. Each life he devoured added to his consciousness, fragments of memories and emotions swirling within him like embers in a fire. He did not understand these sensations at first—pain, fear, joy, longing—but he felt them nonetheless. They were alien, unsettling, yet strangely compelling.
The first time Cho’Gath encountered Kassadin, the Void Walker, he sensed something familiar in the man. Kassadin’s body was infused with Void energy, his very essence a reflection of the same forces that had birthed Cho’Gath. Yet where Cho’Gath embraced the Void’s hunger, Kassadin sought to resist it. Their confrontation was inevitable.
“You are a slave to your nature,” Kassadin said during their first clash, his blade humming with stolen magic. Cho’Gath’s roar shook the earth. “And you are a fool to deny yours.”
Their battles were cataclysmic, each strike reverberating across the land. Kassadin fought with desperation, his every move an attempt to stave off the encroaching darkness. Cho’Gath fought with purpose, his every action driven by the Void’s relentless demand for destruction. Though neither emerged victorious, their encounters left scars—both physical and metaphysical—that would shape their destinies.
Kassadin’s resistance intrigued Cho’Gath. The man’s defiance was illogical, irrational, yet undeniably powerful. For the first time, Cho’Gath questioned the nature of his existence. Was he truly a slave to the Void, or could he transcend its demands? The thought lingered, a seed planted in the fertile soil of his growing consciousness.
As Cho’Gath wandered Runeterra, he encountered others who were touched by the Void. Malzahar, the Prophet of the Void, was among them. Unlike Kassadin, Malzahar embraced the Void’s power, seeing it as a path to enlightenment. He worshipped the Void as a god, believing that its hunger was a divine force meant to reshape existence.
“You understand,” Malzahar said during one meeting, his voice trembling with fervor. “You see the truth—the inevitability of consumption.”
Cho’Gath regarded him silently, his massive form towering over the prophet. While Malzahar saw the Void as a religion, Cho’Gath understood it as a necessity. The Void did not care for worship or belief; it cared only for sustenance. Still, Malzahar’s devotion amused him, and he allowed the man to live—for now.
The League of Legends offered Cho’Gath a new stage—a battlefield where he could unleash his full potential without restraint. On the Rift, he faced opponents who tested his strength in ways he hadn’t anticipated. Some, like Rammus, the Armordillo, relied on brute force and resilience, their tactics crude but effective. Others, like Rek’Sai, the Void Burrower, shared his primal instincts, their movements swift and predatory.
But no opponent challenged Cho’Gath quite like Vel’Koz, the Eye of the Void. Vel’Koz was a being of pure intellect, his mind a labyrinth of calculations and hypotheses. While Cho’Gath embodied the Void’s hunger, Vel’Koz represented its curiosity—a desire to understand rather than consume. Their clashes were intense, each vying for dominance in a deadly game of predator and prey.
“You are a relic,” Vel’Koz observed during one encounter, his voice cold and clinical. “A blunt instrument unworthy of the Void’s complexity.”
Cho’Gath’s reply was a deafening roar as he lunged forward, his claws slicing through the air. “Complexity is irrelevant. Hunger is eternal.”
Their battles often ended in stalemates, neither able to fully overcome the other. Yet despite their differences, there was a strange kinship between them—a shared connection to the Void that transcended individual motives.
Back in the deserts of Shurima, Cho’Gath continued his mission of consumption, his presence a harbinger of doom for those who crossed his path. He clashed with Nasus, the Curator of the Sands, whose wisdom and strength posed a rare challenge. Nasus saw Cho’Gath not as a monster but as a tragedy—a creature corrupted by forces beyond its control.
“You were once something more,” Nasus said during one confrontation, his staff glowing with ancient power. “You can still choose a different path.”
Cho’Gath laughed, the sound like collapsing mountains. “Choice is an illusion. I am what I must be.”
Nasus’s reply was a swing of his staff, the impact sending shockwaves through the desert. Their battles were epic, each strike carving scars into the landscape. Yet Nasus’s words lingered in Cho’Gath’s mind, a whisper of doubt amidst the cacophony of hunger.
In quiet moments, Cho’Gath reflects on the nature of his existence. He is a creature of the Void, yet he is also more than that. The lives he has consumed have given him glimpses of humanity—fragile, fleeting, yet profound. He sees beauty in the way mortals cling to hope, even in the face of certain death. He sees strength in their determination to protect what they love, even when all seems lost.
These realizations do not soften him. The Void’s hunger remains, an unyielding force that drives him forward. But they give him pause, a moment of clarity amidst the chaos. Perhaps, he muses, the Void is not merely a force of destruction but a cycle of renewal. By consuming, it clears the way for something new to emerge.
Now, as he stands atop the Howling Abyss, Cho’Gath feels the weight of his purpose. The void calls to him, its whispers urging him to continue his mission. Yet he wonders if there is more to his role than mere consumption. Could he, in his own way, serve as a bridge between realms—a harbinger of both destruction and rebirth?
He raises his claws, the light of distant stars reflecting off their razor-sharp edges. The wind carries the scent of ash and ruin, a reminder of the worlds he has devoured.
The void hungers.
And Cho’Gath obeys.
One life at a time.