As Many Times As It Takes
The birds were the only creatures that were awake before them. They had to leave. The factory wasn't safe anymore. Soon, Moyna would arrive, ready to lead them through her hidden pathways to the abandon house on Emberflit. It was there Viktor decided their new home would be.
The factory was quiet. All the machinery had been shut down, most never to be turned on again. Only the sound of metallic limbs echoing off the floor filled the place. Viktor and Ren gave each room a final check to make sure nothing of value would be left behind until only the training room was left to examine.
"You do not need to follow me if you do not wish to enter that room again," Viktor said.
"I'll be fine, Doc," Ren answered, "but this is likely the last time we're ever going to be here. I want to say good-bye to the room, ya know?"
"I do not," Viktor answered bluntly.
"I figured, not the sentimental type and all, but it means something to me."
"It is your decision."
The doors to the training room were pushed open and the smell of smoke came rolling out of it. Ren sneezed. Viktor hardly slept last night. He had spent hours incinerating cadaverous limbs, books, and incomplete augmentation prototypes so ensure that nobody could steal his work. Ren had left Viktor alone during this time. He knew he would never show it, but he imagined that this was still an unpleasant task for his stoic mentor.
Ashes scattered as they walked through the desolate room, but as expected there was little left to salvage. Ren's eyes, despite his best efforts, wandered over the where his blood was still staining the floor. A moment was all he allowed himself to look at it, before shaking his head and forcing himself to move on. He went over to the obliterated workbench and picked up a splintered piece of wood. He spun the piece, no larger than a pen, between his mechanical fingers. How many hours had he spent at this workbench over the last year reading, drawing, studying, building, and dreaming? He placed the piece into his pocket.
"Did you find something valuable?" Viktor asked.
"No, just something sentimental, a little piece of the desk," Ren sighed, "I think I'm ready to go. I'll get Mary and Percy. We don't want to keep Moyna waiting."
Outside, the morning air was cool. A strong breeze was blowing through Zaun that morning, refreshing the stagnant air and stirring the soft curls of Ren's hair. While Viktor focused his attention on looking for Moyna, Ren triple checked to make sure that Mary and Percy, each with several bags attached to them, would be able to move without losing balance.
"She's here," Viktor announced suddenly.
In one swift motion, Ren turned to the gorge and swung his own pack onto his back. Moyna pulled herself up over the ledge with ease and smiled at them. Across her back, her bow and quiver rested.
"Good morning," she said, her voice was soft, hardly audible over the gentle wind, "are you ready to depart?"
"We are," Viktor answered.
Ren motioned to the automatons to follow him. All five of them boarded the elevator into Zaun.
"You look exhausted, Viktor," Moyna said as the lift made its steady way down, "even your mask can't hide that. If you two aren't ready for this, I can come back another day."
"Every day we remain we increase our risk of a repeat attack," Viktor said.
"I understand," Moyna nodded, "I'm so sorry for you both. I'll get you to safety," as if to emphasize her point, she plucked the string of her bow, taught and ready for use, "I promise."
Mercifully though, it never came to violence. Moyna's path through the city kept them out of sight. Some of the hidden places she brought them to were known to Ren, as they were also frequented by many of Zaun's kids, but many more appeared to be used by her and her alone.
The bells of an old clock tower were tolling that it was midday when they finally arrived at Emberflit Alley. The alley was filled with fog, a byproduct of a nearby steam powered factory. It was this extra protection that the constant fog cover provided that had made the old house at the end of the alley the ideal hideout for the Matches gang, until Viktor cleared them out over a year ago. Now it stood abandoned, with locals avoiding that place for fear of the Matches, and the surviving members of the Matches avoiding it for fear of Viktor returning to complete his purge.
The house was larger than most others on the alley, a testament to the former occupant's wealth, but the neglect of abandonment showed. The bricks, once a warm russet in color, were now covered in the Gray, several windows were broken, and the roofing in the corner had a hole burnt through it from a steady chemical drip from the city above. Surrounding the building was a wrought iron gate. Encrusted with rust from the persistent fog, it screeched as Viktor pushed the gate open. The harsh sound left Moyna's hair standing on end. The door to the house opened with less resistance. On his last visit to the house, Viktor had melted off the locks. Replacing them would be the first of many, many tasks to make this place livable again.
Inside, the condition was much the same; broken furniture, Gray stains, and old scorch marks. Moyna lead them to one room she had prepared in advanced when she scouted the property the previous day. The room was stripped down, with nothing but a desk and old chair set up in it, but it was clean. Viktor and Ren set their bags down in the corner and set themselves to unburdening the automatons.
"It isn't much, I know," Moyna said, "but the least I could do was make sure my best customer had a clean place to sleep."
"Thank you, Moyna," Viktor said, "as for payment-"
Moyna raised her hands.
"Don't," she said, "forget the whole 'best customer' thing. This is for a friend. Now tell me, is there anything else you need of me?"
"Your continued aid as one of Zaun's best smugglers."
"You flatter me."
"The Doc doesn't do needless flattery," Ren commented.
"Well," Moyna said, the faintest hint of a blush crossing her cheeks, "what can Zaun's great smuggler do for the good doctor?"
Viktor handed her a folded piece of paper.
"There are many things in the factory I still desire," Viktor explained, "please collect them and return them to me. I understand that the list is extensive, and I understand that you just expressed a desire to refuse payment, but for such a job, I cannot allow you to go uncompensated. Anything that remains in the factory not on that list is yours to salvage."
Moyna's dark eyes grew wide.
"Anything?'
"Anything."
Her lips twitched into a smile.
"As you wish," she said before turning to Ren, "and is there anything I can do for you, kid?"
At the word 'kid' Ren flinched. Though Moyna had said the word, the voice he heard in his head was not hers.
"Don't!" he snapped.
His body grew tense and the hexcrystal on his augmented hand sparked, prepared for a charged attack. Moyna jumped back, startled. In an instant, Ren had realized what he had done. He took a shaky, deep breath and calmed himself as the tickle of adrenaline dissipated.
"I'm, I'm sorry," Ren said, "it's just, don't, don't ever call me kid again. Please."
"Oh, of course, Ren," Moyna stammered as she struggled to calm her own nerves, "I didn't mean to upset you."
"Me neither," he responded.
"My offer still stands, is there anything I can get for you, Ren?"
He was silent for a moment before answering.
"Paint," he said, "green paint that'll work on metal. It's gotta be bright green though, like a chem-cask. Please."
Viktor raised an unnoticed eyebrow at this request. He was not surprised that Ren would seek to paint his new augmentation, but he had assumed that he would continue to use his fiery colors.
"I can make that happen," Moyna said.
"Thank you," Ren said with a smile.
Moyna returned the smile with a soft one of her own. She turned and placed a hand on Viktor's shoulder. She gave it a gentle squeeze.
"If you need anything else, let me know," she said, "until next time, stay safe."
"Stay safe," both Viktor and Ren returned.
Once she had left, Ren let out a loud sigh and leaned back against the wall.
"I can't believe I acted like that," he groaned.
"The outburst?" Viktor commented, "I doubt she is upset about that."
"I still feel like an ass."
"Renatus, you have suffered a traumatic event."
"Is this the part when you offer to get rid of my emotions again?" Ren asked in a facetious tone.
"I was not going to offer, but if you are considering, you need only ask."
Ren let out a nervous laugh that gave way to another sigh.
"Thanks, but not now, Doc. You know I'd rather suffer."
"It is your decision."
"I know."
Ren looked down at the floor, his eyes coming to rest on his augmented leg.
"It's been a hell of year, huh Doc?"
"It has been eventful."
"Eventful is an understatement."
He ran his fingers, both organic and mechanical, through his hair. The sensation of metal fingers on his scalp was still foreign, and he flinched at his own touch.
"But that's the past," Ren said, "now we need to focus on what's ahead, right?"
"Precisely," Viktor answered.
"So where do we start? There's so much to do."
"We start by asking questions. What do you want to do, Renatus? Do you still desire to continue your hero work?"
Ren blinked, taken aback by Viktor's question. Then he smirked.
"When I said 'there is so much to do' I was talking about the house," Ren chuckled, "not my life. But, yeah, I think I know what I want to do. I want to stay as your apprentice, first and foremost, but I also really want to keep doing the hero stuff. It's worth it. I really think it is. We helped people, saved people. And the way the Curly and Freckles looked at me, their smiles, it was worth it. Even if I had known that it would cost me an arm, I think I would do it all again."
"And there are still people out there who need our help, so I'll keep fighting and keep saving people. But at the same time, I keep thinking about what you said, 'save your gifts for this city,' and you're right. Piltover has plenty so-called heroes, but what about Zaun? We need them more. Janna's mercy, we need heroes to protect us from Piltover. That's where I come in. I'm not going to go topside and start trouble, I promise, but I swear, if they come down here, I will refuse to let them hurt another Zaunite."
"This is foolish and dangerous," Viktor said sternly, "but if this is what you want, I will support you."
"Thanks, Doc," Ren smiled, "like you said, this is dumb and dangerous, and it's extremely likely I'll get myself hurt again, but this is what I want. That's why there is something I want to ask of you."
"What is it?"
"If any part of me breaks, replace it, upgrade it, anything to get me back on my feet. As many times as it takes, until Zaun is safe."
Viktor nodded.
"I can oblige."
"Now I just need that paint from Moyna."
The next night, Viktor and Ren sat at the desk, bathed in the light of a chem-lamp, and opened a small can of bright green paint. Viktor placed Ren's augmentation shoulder guard on the desk as Ren steadied himself for the delicate task he was about to undertake. This had to look perfect. It had to send a message.
Ren dipped his paintbrush into the vibrant color and began to apply the image that was known the world over as "Made in Zaun" to his armor.
"The hypodermic vial," Viktor commented, "the symbol of Zaun."
"They're all gonna see it," Ren said, "and they're going to know how strong this city is. The people of Zaun will know I'm going to be protecting them and Piltover will know they can't keep stepping on us. Because Zaunites are tenacious, scrappy, brilliant, fools and I am one of them. I will be their champion. I am ReN-12."
Greetings Summoners,
The final chapter will go up on November 12th, N-12. Until then, best of luck on the Rift.
-Gwoo
