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When Nautilus awoke, he was something... different. The great iron suit had become a seamless shell around him, concealing whatever awful truth lay inside. All the details of his memory seemed fuzzy and indistinct but one fact remained clear: he was left here, alone in the sunless depths, to die. In his hands he still clutched the anchor that belonged to the men who had condemned him. Having no other purpose, he took this clue and trudged - too heavy to swim or run - in search of answers. He wandered without direction or sense of passing time in what felt like an eternal dream. By the time he stumbled upon the shores of Bilgewater, he could find no traces of the man he was. No house, no family, no life to which he could return. Terrified sailors who'd heard his tale directed Nautilus back to the Institute, but the summoners refused to relinquish the names of the others they commissioned. By then Nautilus had learned about the League of Legends and there he saw an opportunity to discover and punish those responsible for the time and life he lost.
''When consumed by utter darkness, there is nothing left but forward.''
-- Nautilus
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