Vi could almost taste the pending bloodshed. Her education in the Lanes and graduate work in Stillwater gave her an uncanny sense of who, what, where, when, and how bad a fight would be. This one, she felt confident, would make the mess hall live up to its name.
Her icy eyes scanned for the nearest guards. The jackass jackboots are oblivious, she shook her head and marveled how much better she would be at doing their job.
She next looked to the epicenter of the upcoming brawl–an immense, muscular Noxian. She thought back to some of their conversations. His speeches really.
"You must understand, young fighter, that strength is achieved through conquering fears. The prison we're currently in is not just black steel and concrete, but Piltover's mental and spiritual domination. Only by embracing a perpetual conflict can we be truly free," the ex-headsman had prosthelytized at length to her.
Again, she shook her head. Even if she had embraced his bloodyminded anarchist view, it only would have amounted to another round of beatings and solitary confinement. The betrayed agitator was being sent the Dredge early tomorrow. The Piltie officials must have grown too concerned about Urgot's threat to keep him close to their shining city on a hill.
But not concerned enough to prevent leaks, Vi thought with a grin. Urgot was about to learn about it and then was going to make exit as gracefully as a jackhammer on granite. What this meant for Vi was opportunity. Her eyes rested on the table with her four targets.
Target One–Leo, was a small-time shimmer pusher that Vi could practically blow over. Target Two–Mags, had been a hitwoman with augmented legs, though they were powered low since her incarceration. Target Three–Ivan, boasted having been an associate of Silco and was ruthless enough for it to be true.
But today, the unnamed Target Four was the prize. Short, dark-skinned, and unassuming. A bartender at Silco's base, Vi would have loved to question him, but he had just arrived and word was would be leaving tomorrow too. This was her only chance to leave an impression on him.
"Seize freedom now! The war of the all against the all!" Urgot shouted.
The Noxian dashed to the nearest unsuspecting and unlucky guard. He moved fast for a man his size and the guard was out cold fast. As his body fell to the ground, most of the prisoners rose. Some to support Urgot, some to settle old scores, and some to try to get somewhere safer.
"Off to the races," Vi exclaimed and sprinted. She jumped and double fist slammed the back of Ivan's head. He collapsed, at least stunned from the blow. They should be disjointed without their leader.
"Leo, approach left. Chuck, the right," Mags ordered and swung at Vi with one of the serving trays.
Vi sighed and blocked the tray from hitting her throat. Vi pivoted in and tried to uppercut Mags, but she just evaded. Vi backstepped and backswung her right fist, catching Leo on the check and making him sprawl back onto a partially recovering Ivan.
"I've got her, Mags," Chuck shouted at Mags and swung a chair at Vi. Vi, grateful for the warning, ducked down and a leg of the chair hit Mags in her chest, knocking her over and breaking the leg off.
Vi glanced around. The pusher and associate were crawling away, though unwisely in the direction of Urgot.
"Shit, don't run away Ivan," Mags growled at them from the floor. She was messing with her right leg, but not an imminent threat. Chuck was trying for another swing with the chair. Vi delivered a dirty kick cleanly to Chuck's groin and he dropped the chair.
Vi then avoided a sharp piece of dark metal Mags had kept hidden. The jabs had power behind them and Vi was regretting the minimal maneuverability of this fight. So, she went up. Jumping on the table, she then kicked a remaining tray into Mags face. Her nose broke and she was stunned enough so Vi could strike the shiv out of her hand. She dove into her, knocking her back and into the still not far enough away other two.
"Hey," Vi gloated, "Give Silco a kiss on that–"
Her world went dark for a moment as Chuck's chair collided with the back of her skull. Floored, she turned to him dazed.
"Actually, I'm the one that's getting out soon. So," he glanced at her face tattoo, "516, what message should I deliver from a dead woman." He turned the chair to its top to prepare to smash her windpipe.
Vi moved her lips without making a sound. Her hands searched the floor and were happily cut.
"Louder," Chuck ordered and readied his arms for the finishing blows.
"I said, my name is Vi." Vi jammed the black steel shiv into Chuck's left foot. He screamed and dropped the chair. It bounced and hit her with slight damage as Chuck hopped away. "Vi stands for violence!" she called and returned to her feet.
She looked over to see the riot was all but over. Poor Urgot was overwhelmed by numbers, his impromptu allies had surrendered, and the internecine inmates were making "Who? Me?" statements and expressions.
"That one! 516! She's to be brought to solitaire for interrogation too," a riot officer ordered.
Vi laughed darkly. She realized she had bit her tongue when Chuck had hit her and spat out the blood before putting her hands behind her head. "Deal. Guess a foot stab doesn't matter when it's already out the door," she mused aloud.
Vi would never learn how wrong she was.