"And that's the comprehensive summary of today's activities, sir."
Head Enforcer Marcus scrutinized the reports on his desk with a keen eye, his gaze moving meticulously over the details, flicking through them and searching for any errors, lifting his eyes from the papers when he found none. "I see. Everything appears to be in order. Good work, Kiramman."
Caitlyn Kiramman couldn't suppress the surge of pride that bubbled within her at the rare compliment from her typically sully superior. Over the two years she had served under him, such commendation had been as rare as a genuine gem in one of Piltover's many, many pawn shops. Moreover, her superior was not known for handing out compliments without actually meaning them, social niceties being trumped by his professional duty to be as thorough as possible with all reports handed over to him. As she stood in his office, the weight of the acknowledgment settled on her shoulders, and she reflected on the time that had passed since her graduation from the University of Piltover. It felt like just yesterday when she was contemplating her career path amid the uncertainty of the future.
'Time flies', She mused internally, her purple hair cascading elegantly over her shoulders. Despite her privileged background and connections, Caitlyn had consciously chosen a divergent path. The scientific realm, currently dominated by Jayce, his colleagues, and new students, felt like an intrusion into a world he had fought hard to establish himself in when it was so willing to abandon him for daring to venture into the unknown. Frankly, it wasn't really her field, either, and part of her knew that her more privileged background could, even if inadvertently, grant her some opportunities that Jayce never got, which would've been rather bitter for everyone involved…
Moreover, the idea of having Jayce scrutinize her every move didn't sit well with her; he was her friend, for crying out loud, and she used to make fun of him! Working as his junior (rightfully so considering his knowledge, mind you) didn't necessarily feel…'right' to her. Or perhaps she never really enjoyed the prospect of working in the scientific field and she was merely rationalizing her decision for herself. Whatever it was, what she knew was that she followed her instincts and joined the Enforcers of Piltover, battling crime, corruption, and all the other listed elements in the PR letters that they wrote. The journey she had to endure to get into her current position was wracked with struggles, conflicts, sore muscles, and familial arguments all the way through (and even up to the present), and yet despite it all, Caitlyn knew, without a doubt, that she had found her place in the world.
Her reverie was interrupted when Marcus handed her a paper. "Tomorrow is Progress Day," he began, a hint of dismay in his tone. "As you know, it's a chance for any troublemakers to launch any schemes on their end. The council is pressuring me to ensure maximum security. Be on high alert at all times during your patrol. We can't afford any mishaps with so many innocents around." after all, with so many potential victims around, it made for an enticing target for any would-be criminals looking to make a name for themselves…
"Yes, sir," Caitlyn replied, her eyes scanning the document with anticipation until she found her assigned post. The frustration and disappointment on her face didn't go unnoticed by Marcus.
"Kiramman, if you would just—"
"Did my parents set this up?" Caitlyn's accusatory tone cut him off. She glared at Marcus, challenging the interference with her work and career.
Marcus sighed, "The House of Kiramman holds considerable influence. As its heir, you are more than familiar with the connections your parents have, and whether I like it or not, my hands are tied. I'd assign you to a more critical task if I could, but their reach is extensive." He paused. "Try thinking of it as a sort of…high-level task, if it would make you feel any better. Although it may seem like a less intense position to be assigned to, I assure you that it would be of utmost importance should anything occur near the celebratory parades."
"But surely, there's a way for me to contribute more meaningfully! What about the incident near the Hexgate today? I could help with that!"
"Enough!" Marcus's suddenly raised voice made Caitlyn flinch. "You'll do as you're told, uphold your oath as an Enforcer, and execute the given assignment. Do I make myself clear?"
"…Yes, sir."
"Good. You're dismissed."
Dejected, Caitlyn left the room, shoulders slumped. Yet, just as she reached for the doorknob, Marcus spoke again, his tone softer and more sympathetic.
"I have a daughter too, you know. I understand the desire to keep your own child safe. Try not to hold it against them too much."
Caitlyn left without a word, carrying the weight of her disappointment along with her, her thoughts swirling with the complexities of duty, loyalty, and familial ties in a city brimming with both progress and contradictions.
And she'd been holding such high hopes, too…
Jayce stepped back from his workbench, admiring the intricate device before him. The hum of machinery and the mixed scent of magic and oil filled the workshop, an environment he and Viktor had become intimately familiar with over the years of collaboration.
"And that should do it. Glad to know you haven't lost your touch," Viktor remarked, his critical eye scrutinizing the invention.
Jayce wiped his hands on a rag, a confident smirk playing on his lips. "What? Just because I'm dipping my toes in politics here and there doesn't mean I've lost my touch as an inventor, thank you very much."
Viktor raised an eyebrow, a subtle smirk crossing his lips. "Are you sure it isn't you diving headfirst into a cesspool?"
Jayce chuckled genuinely, the sound echoing through the workshop. The banter between them had become second nature, a testament to the enduring partnership they shared despite their different approaches—Jayce, the charismatic and daring inventor, and Viktor, the meticulous and calculated scientist…or so they branded themselves, anyway. Deep down, he was certain that there were more than a few unkind words being thrown here and there, especially when he entered the political field, but then again, what he didn't know couldn't hurt him, right?
"Politics, my dear Viktor, is just another arena for me to conquer," Jayce replied, a twinkle in his eye and a faux-arrogance in his tone as he grinned. "Besides, someone has to keep Piltover from falling into complete chaos. Might as well be me, right?"
Viktor's expression remained impassive, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Your noble aspirations are touching, Jayce. Just remember, the cesspool tends to drag everyone in sooner or later."
Jayce shook his head, still grinning. "You're always just brimming with optimism, aren't you Viktor? But hey, who else would keep me grounded in this whirlwind of innovation and politics?"
As their banter continued, the workshop door creaked open, letting the inventor/politician glance towards it inquisitively.
"Glad to know our association hasn't severed you from your roots Jayce."
'Speaking of which…'
The opened doorway revealed the refined and elegant form of one Mel Medarda. Jayce motioned toward Viktor with a nod, eliciting an eye roll from his partner.
"Counselor Medarda. Quite a surprise to see you here given tomorrow's important festivities. What brings you here today?" Viktor asked, a touch less suspicious than their initial encounters over the years. He liked to think they'd grown closer during their time working together, although deciphering Mel's thoughts on most things was always a challenge.
Mel raised an eyebrow as she entered the room. "Hasn't your partner told you? The council has chosen to have Jayce deliver the speech tomorrow for Progress Day, as a show of gratitude and appreciation for his contribution to Piltover's recent growth through Hextech. I believe Counselor Heimerdinger was the one to deliver the news himself, did he not?"
Viktor blinked rapidly, "Truly? Well, congratulations on the honor Jayce. That does explain why you looked like you were trying to calm your nerves during our work. Needed something to get your mind off of it?"
Jayce chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his head. "You caught me red-handed. I honestly wished this wasn't sprung on me so suddenly and that I had more time to come up with something passable for a speech…."
Mel sighed, as if she expected much from him at this point, before giving an understanding smile - the kind that was much more genuine than the more practiced ones she gave to those she had to butter up and schmooze around. "Thankfully, I like to think that I know a thing or two about this kind of scenario and offer my aid."
"Well, I'd be a fool to turn down such an offer," Jayce replied. "Pretty sure you're saving my hide with this."
"Best of luck on your endeavor," Viktor stated as he went over to his personal table to pack up. "I shall leave you two to—"
"Actually, why don't you stick around to help, Viktor?" Jayce suggested, slamming his fist into an open palm. "I wouldn't have gotten as far with my Hextech research, let alone pursue as much as I did without you!"
Viktor looked uncomfortable. "You know how I am when dealing with a large crowd, Jayce."
"I'm not saying you have to do the speech with me. Just help me work this out, add your voice to mine here."
"I don't know…"
"I do have to agree with him here," Mel interjected. "Even if you aren't as well-known, your work is just as significant as Jayce's when it comes to how Piltover became what it is today. It is only right that you have a hand in writing this speech."
Viktor looked between the two sets of eyes—one hopeful and the other expecting—before sighing.
"Who am I to deny such an invitation?"
"And yet another Shimmer shipment is lost. How many does this make it this month?"
Sevika's voice, sharp and to the point, cut through the room where Silco sat at his desk, a map of Zaun sprawled out before him. The air hung heavy with the scent of lingering smoke and the distant rumble of machinery, a symphony that composed the ambiance of the undercity. Silco raised his head, locking eyes with his second-in-command.
"The second. Fifth overall in this year so far," He replied, his voice resonating with a tone that echoed both frustration and calculation. Sevika leaned against the nearby bookshelf, crossing her arms, her expression hardened by the weight of years of responsibility. "They're getting bolder then. Who knows what it'll snowball into if these Fireflies keep getting their way."
"We're gonna finally clamp on those brats then? It's about time you decided to take them seriously," Sevika pressed, her stance suggesting a readiness for action. Silco, however, remained contemplative, his fingers drumming a rhythmic beat on the surface of the table.
"Mmm." Was all Silco was willing to give to Sevika at the moment, leaning back into his chair. He was in the middle of performing his only self-appointed tasks, plotting the freedom of Zaun from under the foot of those cursed topsiders. The tyrannical grasp that Piltover had over the city he was born in… It was unacceptable. As if chains weighed down so many in the undercity, as if the very soul of Zaun was crushed under the weight of a hungry beast's jaws.
Their world was suffering, the people within the world were suffering, and it was Piltover's fault for being so willing to leave behind its sister even while draining it for everything it had. And if that is the way things were going to… Well, what choice did he have but to do whatever it took to make sure Zaun prospered beyond that greedy grasp?
Even if it did keep him up in the middle of the night at times. But bear it he must, for the people of Zaun deserved no less. Something he wished Vander understood.
Vander, yes…It had been so simple to think that all it took was to change the figure of authority in Zaun in order to bring about the revolution he yearned for so desperately, and yet when Zaun was right in the palm of his hand, he found that it was not as he had anticipated, with all of the administrative, bureaucratic nonsense he had to deal with while managing the fragile, soon-to-be-broken peace Piltover had with its abandoned sister-city, and now this headache with the Fireflies…
But it would all be worth it. Soon enough, his grand plans for this world would be realized, and Zaun will have its much-deserved place in the sun that had been usurped from it for so many years…
Silco turned his head to look outside, with Sevika raising an eyebrow at the look of deep thought, "Something catching your interest out there?"
"It's amazing how small the world has become, thanks to those Hexgates. Our connection to Piltover is coming ever so closer to being totally severed," The head of the Chembarons mused, his sole normal eye narrowing at the sight of a ship passing through the Hexgate. "And yet, they have the gall to see us as upstarts who don't know their place, as if they leave us any other choice but to claw and scratch and kick and scream to stand where they stand after pushing us into a pit and leaving us for dead."
He then turned to face his right-hand woman fully.
"In order for us to get out of this pit, Zaun must be united on all fronts, no matter what. I trust you understand what that means, don't you, Sevika?"
"Of course."
"Then do what you must. We will not let those bastards looking down on us keep us down while they reap the rewards of our suffering."
With a simple nod, Sevika leaves the room, leaving Silco to his thoughts.
Silco sat alone, surrounded by thoughts akin to the shadows that danced upon the worn walls. His mind echoed with the whispers of Zaun's discontent, the cries for freedom drowned out by the ceaseless noise of the machinery above. He knew the path he treaded was fraught with danger, but every step forward was a declaration of war against the oppression they faced.
As Sevika ventured into the depths of Zaun to enforce his will, Silco's gaze lingered on the map before him. The undercity, with its labyrinthine streets and towering structures, awaited the unity he sought. His vision was resolute, a beacon cutting through the murk of despair that clouded the city's heart.
Tomorrow's Zaun would be forged in the crucible of determination, a fire fueled by the sacrifices of the overlooked and the forgotten. Silco knew that the struggle was far from over, but as long as the spirit of Zaun burned within him, he would fight against the chains of oppression until every last link shattered, liberating the undercity from the looming shadow of Piltover's tyranny. The city would rise, not as an underdog, but as an indomitable force, a testament to the resilience and strength of those who refused to be forgotten in the depths of the undercity.
Within the Fireflies' headquarters, Ekko was heading over to the medical room after finishing cataloging their latest haul yesterday.
'Where are you right now?'
The hum of the people working and moving about in the Fireflies' hideout seemed to synchronize with the whirl of thoughts in Ekko's mind as he stepped into the medical room. The low hum of conversations halted momentarily as the members acknowledged his presence, their expressions a mix of relief and anticipation.
The room itself was a patchwork of improvised medical equipment, dimly lit and filled with the lingering scent of antiseptic. Ekko's eyes scanned the area, looking for familiar faces. His gaze landed on Tessa, the medic, who was busy tending to Ember's injuries. Ember shot him a reassuring smile, her spirit seemingly undiminished despite the bandages.
"Ember said you were back," Tessa greeted, her tone warm. "We were starting to worry."
Ekko nodded, acknowledging her concern. "I'm here. Any new updates on our situation?"
Tessa motioned toward Chrono, who was in the room visiting their brother, was currently hunched over a map spread across a table. "Chrono's been monitoring things around the bridge between the cities. It seems like Silco's tightening security."
Ekko sighed, the weight of the city's struggles evident in his expression. "Silco's slimy grip on Zaun is getting worse every day. We can't afford to lose ground."
As the room buzzed with activity, Ekko couldn't escape the memories of the past seven years. The Fireflies had risen from the ashes of Vander's and Benzo's deaths, transforming from a band of misfits and lost into a beacon of resistance against Chembaron's tyranny. Zaun, once a city teeming with the promise of progress, had fallen into the clutches of those monsters, and Ekko couldn't let that stand, even if the words of Silco had seemed so sweet and enticing at times with all of his talk about freedom...
Approaching Chrono, who was tinkering with a device near one of the makeshift beds, Ekko couldn't help but think of how far they had come. Chrono looked up, his tired eyes meeting Ekko's.
"Chrono, what's the update on Silco's movements?" Ekko inquired, his voice edged with urgency.
Chrono sighed, setting aside his gadget. "He's consolidating power. Our recent activities have rattled him. We need to be cautious."
Ekko clenched his fists, frustration bubbling within him. "Silco's influence is becoming rooted deeper and deeper. We need to find a way to counteract it before it becomes too late."
Before Ekko could delve further into the discussion, the medical room door slid open, and Rook entered, a sense of urgency etched on his face.
"Ekko, we've got trouble. Word on the street is that Silco's goons are scouring about and might be closing in on our hideout soon." Rook reported, his voice low.
The room fell silent, tension hanging in the air like a storm about to break. Ekko's mind raced. Silco's men finding them would not only jeopardize their current mission but also compromise the Fireflies' entire operation. The fate of Zaun, already hanging by a thread, seemed to sway precariously in Silco's favor.
"Get everyone ready," Ekko commanded, his tone cutting through the hushed murmurs. "We can't let Silco's lackeys catch us off guard. Tessa, prepare to move the injured if things really do come to a head. Rook, gather intel on their movements. We need to buy time until we figure out our next move."
As the Fireflies mobilized with practiced efficiency, Ekko couldn't help but feel the weight of Benzo's teachings. The struggle for freedom, the unity against oppression—these were the principles that fueled their resistance. However, as the medical room transformed into a hub of controlled chaos, Ekko's thoughts turned to the city and its people.
The memories of their shared past flooded Ekko's mind—laughter echoing through the alleyways, the thrill of their first successful mission against Silco, and the solemn promise they made to each other. He couldn't let Zaun crumble under Silco's rule, but the absence of a clear path forward left an ache in his heart.
Chrono approached Ekko, a determined glint in his eyes. "We'll navigate through this, Ekko. The Fireflies won't let anything happen to our home."
Nodding, Ekko felt a renewed surge of determination. The challenges they faced were significant, but the Fireflies were a family—a family forged in the crucible of Zaun's struggles. As the room buzzed with preparations, Ekko's silent plea echoed once again through his mind.
'Where are you now?'
The answer eluded him, shrouded in the shadows of Zaun's labyrinthine streets, but Ekko knew they had to press forward. The fate of Zaun and the Fireflies rested on their shoulders. With a final glance at the makeshift medical room, Ekko led the Fireflies into the impending storm, ready to face whatever challenges awaited them in the heart of Zaun.
The shipment they secured earlier was one of many signs of their resistance, sparks of hope in the darkness. As Ekko emerged from the medical room, he couldn't ignore the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. The choices he made echoed with the legacy of Vander, the sacrifices of the Fireflies, and the uncertain future of Zaun. The journey ahead was fraught with danger, but Ekko was determined to navigate the shadows and emerge victorious.
'Powder…Vi…Where are you right now?
The sound of cracking bones reverberated through the narrow confines of Vi's cell. She winced, adjusting her nose back into place. "Fuck! That's gonna hurt like a bitch for a while…"
The makeshift mirror in her cell reflected a lightly battered face, a testament to the recent brawl. Vi, with a mix of annoyance and satisfaction, gingerly probed the sore bridge of her nose. Examining her reflection, she found satisfaction in the knowledge that the punk who had goaded her into a brawl wouldn't be waking up anytime soon. A small victory in the midst of the relentless monotony that defined life within Stillwater Prison.
The very air in Stillwater seemed to carry the weight of captivity – a cold, oppressive atmosphere that was a far cry from the lawless, unforgiving streets of Zaun where Vi had come up in. At the tender age of 13, one might expect Stillwater to be a crucible that breaks spirits, but Vi adapted to its unforgiving environment with an eerie ease. The stringent routine, the perpetual tension, and the ever-present threat of violence had become the mundane backdrop of her daily existence.
All things considered, it could've been worse. Sure, she wouldn't have traded it for the freedom she enjoyed beforehand, but it could've been significantly less adaptable than it was currently.
There was an odd comfort in the predictable chaos of Stillwater, a macabre familiarity that offered a semblance of stability amid the turmoil, an environment she knew how to handle and thrive in thanks to her experience from Zaun. Yet, this acclimation did little to erase the haunting memories that had led her into this cell.
Vander, Mylo, Claggor—their names etched themselves into her consciousness like a mournful dirge. The mental image of that fateful day was a vivid tableau, an indelible snapshot of regret and guilt that Vi knew she would carry to her grave.
"VIOLET PLEASE!"
Her little sister's desperate plea rang through the silence of Vi's cell every single day, in every moment of silence, and in every silent night. For a fleeting moment, the steely exterior of the prisoner softened at the memory, as it often did when she recalled the small bluenette's cries. She staggered towards her bed, slumping onto it as the echoes of her little sister's words played an incessant melody in her mind.
The emotional turmoil was almost palpable. The realization that this might have been the last interaction with Powder, the painful rejection that bordered on disownment on her part, and the monstrous silhouette of Silco looming over her sister—all merged into a storm of conflicting sentiments that Vi grappled with in solitude.
The uncertainty surrounding Powder's destiny was a relentless source of torment for Vi. The question of whether her sister was alive, flourishing, or enduring unspeakable hardship cast a heavy pall over her conscience. The silent prayer for any sign of Powder's well-being became a desperate mantra she whispered internally into the stillness of her cell.
'Powder…If you're still alive…PLEASE send a sign, any sign, to let me know how to get to you…'
Then, the very earth began to shake.
"What the fuck?! Wait, I didn't mean right now-!"
The violent tremors threw her off the bed, slamming her face-first onto the unforgiving floor. As quickly as the earthquake had begun, it ceased, letting the pink haired woman emit an unimpressed, almost disappointed 'Ow'.
Vi groaned, cursing under her breath as she massaged her throbbing forehead, contributing to the cacophony of noises reverberating through the prison. When she opened her eyes, a strange light filtered through the bars of her narrow "window."
The pain gave way to curiosity, compelling Vi to rise and approach the window, scanning for the source of the mysterious glow.
Vi's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates at the sight of the biggest tower she'd ever seen dominating the horizon for all of Piltover and Zaun to gaze upon.
Unbeknownst to Vi, she was not the only one to see the massive wooden tower that appeared at the bridge linking the two cities. Thousands of topsiders and undercity dwellers were privy to the imposing and, frankly, terrifying sight; rich families atop their opulent balconies and in their fancy pajamas, other inmates at Stillwater, ordinary Zaunites and Pilties thrown out of their beds who headed towards their windows…thousands of people from virtually all walks of life had been forced out of their slumbers and exposed to the sight that stood so still and serene in spite of its arrival being anything but.
Among those thousands were Caitlyn, Jayce, Ekko, and even Silco, all ripped violently from their thoughts and activities, and although all of them, including Vi, had wildly different inclinations, they were all united by their reaction to such a sight, so sudden and brutal in its unannounced and unpredictable appearance, which could only elicit a single, primordial sentiment within their minds, vulgar and profane and yet primal in every way as it reached their lips:
"...What the fuck?"
"Powder, wake up!"
Like the ever-so-lovely image of a zombie rising out of its grave, Powder snapped her eyes open and sprang up forward, her blue orbs darting in practically every direction as she awoke from her apparent slumber, her body jolting in place and slumping against a pair of hands that held her shoulders from the back as she struggled against her natural instincts of wanting to sleep more and the voice in her head that yelled at her to get up and get back to fighting after whatever that explosion was presumably knocked her out cold.
And hopefully, that bright, blue glow wasn't history repeating itself.
"Wha- Who- I'm up! I'm up, just five more minutes, I gotta…I…" The Zaunite's head thrashed around, the memories coming back to her in an instant and immediately setting off her fight-or-flight instincts as she recalled the battle with the Head's representatives. "The Head! I gotta go protect Angela and-"
"Alright, take it easy there!" Though the worried teenager couldn't get too far as she felt a pair of firm, gloved hands on her shoulders, Roland's voice calmed her down as she recognized that she wasn't surrounded by hostiles, at least, even if that meant accepting her smartass and usually cynical colleague-turned-backstabber-turned-colleague/friend-again's presence. Aye, what a mouthful, but she supposed that with everything that happened, there was no simpler way to explain how things went down for the past week…Her brain was definitely going to hurt from the barrage of information she had to deal with... "I think all that fighting's getting into your brain, eh?"
Powder turned her head, her eyes meeting Roland's usually monotone ones, although now they were more relaxed and relieved. She looked around, spotting many of the Librarians as they moved around the Library's wooden complex, apparently no longer in a state of desperate combat. She could spot some Assistant Librarians and even some Patrons as they seemed to be exchanging information and analyzing…something, whatever it was. She didn't really care, though, as she then recalled that the voice that awoke her was not Roland's, instead…
"Angela!"
Powder's face positively beamed when she realized that the Head Librarian was alive and well, kneeling in front of the Patron Librarian of the Floor of Psychology and giving a relieved smile of her own as well. It took every ounce of mental control from the blue-haired Zaunite to avoid making a scene in public and getting physical with Angela, instead channeling her overflowing sentiments into curiosity as she looked around some more before finally having her eyes meet with Angela's golden ones. "You're alive! Oh, that's…that's such a relief…"
"I could say the same for you, Powder. I found myself worried that your mad dash into the jaws of danger would leave indelible marks on you…" The AI found herself smiling involuntarily even as she reprobated her youngest Librarian, who scoffed in turn, crossing her arms and shaking Roland's hands off of her shoulders. Even when all of this madness was happening around her, Angela still found a way to worry about the young Zaunite…it was sweet in its own way, of course, but Powder was the one looking out for Angela at this point considering, you know, the fact that the older bluenette nearly died to three different would-be killers in the past week.
"Yes, says the girl who quite literally threw herself into a beam of Light to be dissolved for the sake of humanity." Powder countered, closing an eye and opening the other wide. "And then she has the gall to admonish me…" She continued, huffing before her expression melted into an amused grin as she could no longer keep up the act. "Good to know that it's still you, Angela, and not some dream that I'm having."
"Good to know that you're also as uncouth as ever, Powder." Angela returned the smile, nodding to Roland as he got up, patting his suit to get rid of any dust that might've gotten on it, although his gesture was made somewhat redundant by the generous amounts of viscera, guts, and blood that stained his otherwise fancy suit. "You honestly had worried me with how long you stayed blacked out, though…It's good to see it was nothing that'll last." She smiled genuinely, causing Powder to rub the back of her neck in embarrassment, unable to stop her insides from getting all gooey.
"Aw, shucks…" Dang it! Angela just had to get all mushy at this instant, didn't she? Now what was she supposed to say back?! "You really shouldn't have worried, though; nothing could ever keep me out of commission for too long! …Even if it was a major blast that should've probably left me dead- Actually, what the hell happened there?! Where's the Head goons we were supposed to be fighting against? How come there isn't a massive hole in the arena? How come none of us are dead from that?!" She knew all too well how deadly her bombs could be, after all…Milo and Claggor still haunted her enough for her to know that, and yet from what she saw while she reoriented herself, everything seemed…normal…?
"That's what we're trying to figure out." Roland interrupted the touching moment, earning a nod from Angela as she took over, getting up and giving Powder a hand that the teenager eagerly took, happy to get some physical contact with her bestest friend in the Library. "It's all been jumbled up to hell and back, but from what we could tell…"
"The Head's raiding party seems to have left the Library's premises one way or another." Angela continued, directing her speech to the youngest Patron Librarian as she started walking towards one of the recently-installed balconies on the Floor. "We are unsure of the exact method that their departure unfurled, nor do we know anything about their current state and whereabouts, but the current hypothesis is that this had a role in it." She pocketed her left hand into her coat, removing it after a moment and showing Powder a glowing, vibrating blue fragment, much to Powder's confusion and awe.
"...The crystal? It's working again after all of this time?"
"It would seem that way. For one reason or another, perhaps amplified by the Head's technologies which were flying about or in fact supercharged by them, the crystal orb that dropped from your pocket seems to have released the energy it had within it not as a simple explosion, but in an entirely different form that overtook the whole of the Library." the golden-eyed fleshless human confirmed, allowing the Zaunite to examine how it was glowing and vibrating at the instant. "I would recommend exerting caution when handling it, Powder… It is quite dangerous in its current state."
"Tell something I don't know already." Powder muttered, the memories of that night flashing through her mind, forcing her to suppress a shudder to not make the rest of the Librarians feel anything was off. "…but I just don't get it, what got the crystal to do this now of all times? It just seems so banal…" And sure, she already knew that it might've been supercharged one way or another, but why didn't it just explode like it was supposed to?
Actually, wait a moment…
If it didn't explode -and she tried very hard to block the memories associated with this particular theory- yet it had such a stunningly large burst of energy, then what, exactly, did all of that energy do if not cause physical damage? She wasn't usually one to worry about technical specifications like Mr. Viper on the Floor of Technological Sciences did (or maybe he was actually on this Floor and she didn't notice him, considering how many Librarians seemed to have flooded in to secure its parameters), but if the energy didn't turn into physical shockwaves, then the only other form it could've transformed into that Powder knew of was…
Was…
…
"For what it's worth," Angela cleared her throat. "I did detect this type of energy before once. Almost seven years ago, in fact."
"And we do have a change in scenery now." Roland pointed with a thumb at the balcony's closed doors behind him. "Three guesses on what type of energy the explosion seems to have been turned into." As if peering into her thoughts, the Colour gave a sort of bemused smirk as he noticed the caution and anticipation melt off of Powder's face, instead replaced with a befuddled, disbelieving look as she involuntarily shook her head.
"...No. Way." Were they pulling on her leg? The only possible conclusion to such descriptions…It didn't make sense. There was simply no way that it would occur, it was unfeasible, it was unthinkable, illogical, unbelievable, and most importantly:
It was all too good to be true.
And yet, none of those admittedly realistic and possibly very correct thoughts stopped Powder from rushing outside like the madwoman she was, clinging onto a hope she'd long buried ages ago, defiling its once-quiet grave as she grabbed onto it for dear life, heading towards the newest addition to the Library's architecture and swinging the balcony's doors wide open, letting out a silent gasp as the sight of the skyline she had once known to be so familiar graced her eyes yet again, a miracle in every sense of the word that left the stunned Zaunite unable to do anything but cry out her feelings after a moment of basking in the silence's rule for the whole world (or at least the few birds that passed by) to hear her joy, shock, and melancholy all at once:
"I'M HOME!"
AND HERE COMES THE ACTUAL CROSSOVER AT LAST!
Seriously, I thought we would never have gotten to this point prior to pivoting the way we did! And although we recognise that it would've been fun for us to have explored how Powder would've interacted with LoR's story, we have, as stated, had to compromise since retelling LoR before getting to this point would've been a gargantuan project in its own right, nevermind the crossover part. That is not to say that we will not return to LoR's storyline to add some mini-chapters in the future if we have some free time on our hands, but we hope that this part will please you!
Anywho, hope this was a good enough set up chapter - you know, establish what kind of status quo was going on in Piltover and Zaun through different POVs. Right before our favorite group of librarians come in and sent it crashing headfirst into a wall.
Again. They have a terrible habit of doing that, don't they?
So, any interactions you guys looking forward to? Any expectations the arrival of the Library in Piltover and Zaun could do? Do tell! Speculations and discussions feeds this hungry beast!
Until next time!