Vi lay on her back with her head hanging off the edge of the bed. It wasn't entirely comfortable but for the time being she felt herself too lazy to move. Her eyes drifted over an old painting that hung from the wall. She wasn't really looking at the painting though, her mind elsewhere, her thoughts drifting from thought to thought.

She wasn't sure if going down to the lanes, to the old parts of Zaun that she hadn't visited in weeks was good, she didn't know if it helped and gave her some kind of peace. Perhaps all it did was fill her with regrets and old memories and guilts of things she couldn't change.

And yet despite those thoughts, despite those hurts, she felt an old memory pull at her mind, one of her, Mylo scrambling over rooftops in a panic looking for something to lower for Claggor and her sister to reach them.

She remembered the fear and the panic at being caught, she remembered the exhilaration at getting away but she also felt guilt. Guilt that she was the only one left of her family, each person she was supposed to protect dead and long gone.

She hoped Mylo and Claggor would be proud of her, she hoped they'd be able to see past her actions and understand she only tried to do what was best. She had some comfort in knowing that her and Jinx had in some kind of way made amends. It had been short-lived, it had been too bittersweet and too painful for her to remember clearly. But it had existed and it had been real.

So maybe Vi could live with that.

The bathroom door opening pulled her attention to the warm glow of orange from the bathroom's light. Caitlyn walked out, a hairbrush slowly being pulled through her hair, a simple deep blue slip draped across her body. Caitlyn smiled at her, the expression content, warm, full of emotion and Vi met it with her own smile, the expression just a little awkward from the way she still lay upside down.

"You shouldn't sit like that, Vi," Caitlyn said, there was a gentle lilt to her tone that Vi knew meant she wasn't too serious. "Didn't you say your back was getting sore from all the council meetings you needed to sit in and attend?" Caitlyn chided her as she slid into her spot next to Vi's head on the edge of the bed.

"I'm stretching," Vi challenged her lightly, she let her shoulders slide off the edge of the bed and there was a subtle pop of muscle and crack of joints.

Caitlyn laughed, the sound short, crisp in the air between them.

Vi let the laughter settle, she let the silence embrace them and she liked it. She liked the way they could sit and lie and rest together without needing to speak, without needing to put words to the thoughts either one of them had. Vi moved closer to Caitlyn, the motion just a little awkward, she let her cheek press against Caitlyn's thigh and she peered up at her from where she remained and though to Vi, Caitlyn appeared upside down, she found herself able to read her, see her thoughts, her feelings, the turmoil in her eye.

Vi looked at her pointedly, she waited until Caitlyn saw and she let their gaze connect for long enough that Caitlyn would know Vi was there, that she'd listen, that she'd be present if Caitlyn needed her to be.

Caitlyn sighed, she settled a bit more comfortably onto the bed before leaning back, her legs still hanging over the side of the bed. Vi pulled herself up over the soft blankets until she could look at Caitlyn in the eyes, their position one that she thought so familiar, too common a thing and she wondered how they had fallen into this habit, how this had become their way of sharing. Whatever the reason she didn't care, she was just thankful it existed, that it had come to be without conscious effort.

"Sevika was talking," Caitlyn said after a moment. "It was actually pretty inspiring," there was a quiet laugh. "It reminded me of Jayce," she said.

Vi was looking into Caitlyn's eye, she was studying the emotions she could see and she wished she could shield Caitlyn from the pain just as much as she knew Caitlyn had tried to do the same for her.

"He'd be proud," Vi said. And she meant it. She hadn't known Jayce anywhere near as long as Caitlyn had. She hadn't been given the time to become anything more than awkward allies before he had died fighting Viktor, but that was all Vi knew, all she needed to know about him.

Caitlyn smiled at her, the expression sad, small, it just barely touched the corner of her eye and Vi wished she could take that pain away. And it was almost fate, she thought, that Caitlyn had lost almost everyone she loved and cared for just as Vi had lost almost everyone she had cared for. But they had found each other and that helped. She thought it better to have someone by her side who could understand the grief and the loss.

"Do you miss it?" Vi asked her eventually.

"The council?" Caitlyn asked.

Vi hummed a response.

"No," Caitlyn said. "I don't," she closed her eye, took in a deep breath before exhaling it slowly. "Being in charge, it wasn't something I think I enjoyed, even if things had been different," she shrugged and looked at her. "And before that?" There was a lighter glint to Caitlyn's eye before she spoke next. "They never listened to me— to us—anyway," Caitlyn paused for a brief second in thought. "At least you won't have a reason to leave me again," she said with the smallest of cheeky smiles.

Vi felt her lips twitch up at the corners into a small smile of her own. She remembered the anger and resentment and resignation she had felt after facing the council, she remembered the fallout, leaving Caitlyn in the rain and she thought herself so innocent back then, so small and unaware of the things that were going to happen.

They fell silent once more and Vi felt Caitlyn roll onto her side, and she knew she was looking at her, perhaps because she wished to, perhaps because lying on her side was more comfortable. Vi didn't mean to but her body slowly rolled to face Caitlyn, she tucked her hands beneath her head and she looked at her, looked at her face, into her eye, stared at her and found herself memorising for the hundredth time the way light danced against her skin, the way her hair brushed against her cheeks, fell across her face.

"I thought it would help," Vi said eventually. "Going to the Lanes," she added. "Seeing old places again."

She thought it had helped, perhaps it had done something, but she wasn't sure if it had helped or if it had simply made her memories hurt more and reopen old scars.

"After…" Caitlyn trailed off and Vi could see pain in her eye, she could see Caitlyn going somewhere else, turning back memories and Vi knew she was speaking of her mother, she knew she was remembering the anguish she had felt. "I could barely stand living here," she said, she gestured around them. "Each room, each thing in here reminded me of her," Caitlyn's voice was quieter as she spoke. "I spent weeks hating, weeks wanting to tear everything apart," she blinked and Vi reached out, brushed her hand against Caitlyn's cheek, perhaps to comfort her, perhaps to reach through the pain of memories and ground her to the present. "But eventually the pain turned into memories, ones I could look back on with a smile," she said. "I think If I left this place in that state, in that part of my life I'd never be able to set foot in here without becoming that person again. I would have been stuck and unable to move on."

Vi stared at Caitlyn for so long that she didn't know if she should speak. Vi stared at her for so long that the silence could have become painful but instead of shying away from the vulnerability that Caitlyn had just given her, despite the words she said that would have made anyone feel pathetic, feel weak, Caitlyn simply met her gaze with confidence and calm acceptance of her emotions, her past, what they were both going through.

And perhaps that was why Vi loved Caitlyn. Perhaps she loved her because Caitlyn felt. She felt more than she should. She had felt and wanted to change things for everyone and that was just one of the reasons Vi had been drawn to her, one of the reasons why she had let Caitlyn become a part of her.

Vi reached out, she took hold of Caitlyn's hand and she squeezed it tightly. And it was nice. It was calm. It was quiet and Vi didn't think she would ever tire of these moments she shared with Caitlyn.

"Thank you," Vi said quietly.

And so Caitlyn simply smiled at her in return, her fingers warm as they wove between hers.

It wasn't uncommon for Vi or Caitlyn to spend the day apart. they both had responsibilities and duties now that at times would keep them busy for hours. Vi took what Caitlyn had said to heart, too. She had considered the fact that hiding away from her past would only keep her locked into old memories without the opportunity to accept what had happened and learn to move on.

It was so ironic, too. After everything had happened in her life she had been the one to try and comfort Caitlyn after her mother's death, she had used her experience losing Vander to help her. And now, when Vi by all accounts should have had the ability to move on herself, she wasn't able to. Not when it came to Jinx. She didn't know why. Not entirely.

Or that was another lie.

Perhaps she knew why and she was scared that analysing it, facing it head on would lead to more pain.

But that pain was something she would need to face.

And so Vi walked. She walked through the Lanes, she walked through the streets of Zaun. She stopped at times to speak with people that wished to speak with her, she stopped and spoke with those that had requested an Enforcer's presence and Vi tried to embrace her new role.

It helped, she thought, that she was a Zaunite. It helped her understand what was needed, it helped her connect with people on the streets who recognised her but who might have still distrusted those from Piltover.

But eventually the sun started to recede from the ground, it started to be swallowed by shadows and the heat started to be replaced by a gentle cool that embraced her, wrapped around her, made her feel a little smaller than she was used to.

Vi hadn't meant to travel as deep into the undercity as she did, nor did she realise just how far she had travelled until she came to a pathway that made her pause.

This far down was still decrepit, still a forgotten mess that had long since lost hope. There were even the telltale signs of the shimmer addicts that had yet to be helped and Vi didn't know what to think, she didn't know what to make of that very fact.

Distaste, regret, remorse? Maybe guilt in some way?

Perhaps it was a good sign that despite the signs she couldn't actually see anyone. Maybe they had sought help, maybe they had only just moved on and been helped by someone who cared enough to travel this far down.

Vi let out a quiet sigh as she continued to walk, and this time she knew where her feet took her. Eventually she turned one last corner before she came to a stop in front of a railing. Catwalks stretched out around her. Scaffolding that was half broken and repairs lay in something between controlled chaos and ruin and she didn't know what to think as she looked down the chasm.

Her childhood home lay down in the dark. The scaffolding she knew had been fixed by those that lingered around, perhaps by Jinx, perhaps by Sevika before Viktor and Ambessa's attack or by someone else she didn't know.

Vi found herself walking forward at the same time as memories of her and Caitlyn started to surface. They were hazy, less sure and Vi wondered if it was because of the shimmer laced potion Caitlyn had given her or the blood loss and injury or a combination of them both. Truthfully it didn't matter.

Vi realised she stood in the centre of the main platform. Things were littered around. Drawings, trinkets, some discarded, some thrown here and there and some more organised and orderly.

Vi would recognise what she looked upon even if she was blind. She knew Jinx had turned this into a home of sorts. There were drawings of Jinx and Isha, drawings and splashes of colour and things that reminded Vi of a happier time, a more youthful time. Something that she hadn't let herself dwell on for too long lest it break her.

She felt sadness, too. And it was a sadness because she saw love in the drawings, she saw love in the things that lay around her. Vi saw happiness, contentedness and she knew Jinx and Isha had found a home together, she could see that. And Vi felt something between love and hurt at the fact that she hadn't been able to give that to Jinx, she felt anguish that she had in some way failed Jinx, failed to bring her peace, failed to bring her love and acceptance.

And yet despite all that, despite all those little hurts and guilts and pains she felt, Vi also felt content, serene, perhaps accepting in some kind of way. And she felt those things because she was happy Jinx had found what she had been looking for. At least for a little while. At least until Isha had sacrificed herself, at least until Jinx had sacrificed herself.

Vi felt the tears beginning to well in her eyes, she felt the pains beginning to take hold and she shook her head, squeezed her fists tight and she tried not to break, tried not to lose herself in the memories and the lost moments.

She didn't realise she had fallen to her knees until the cold bite of the metal platform started seeping into her weary body. Vi embraced that feeling though, in part because it helped her feel closer to Jinx, in part because she didn't think she deserved to feel any kind of comfort where she was. Part of her felt like she was intruding on Jinx's sanctuary, part of her felt like she was visiting an old friend who she deserved not to be accepted by anymore.

But Caitlyn had said it had helped, Caitlyn had said facing her pains would let her move on. Or at least trying to face them was better than hiding away, better than wallowing in the pain and solidifying and freezing her emotions into a point in time that would do her no good.

And so Vi fought her tears, her breathing, her quiet sobs, back into control. She waited until her breathing was steady, she waited until her heart had stopped racing in her chest and then she opened her eyes.

Vi wiped the back of her hand across her eyes to help clear her vision as she blinked, as she looked out around her and as she tried to see the light, the love, the memories full of smiles around her.

If she listened hard enough, if she looked close enough she could see shapes in the dark, she could hear voices calling out to her. And they were familiar, they were distant, memories she had once cherished and had held on to as if they were a part of her very soul.

"I'm sorry, Jinx," Vi said. "I'm sorry for everything," she bit her lip. "I hope you found what you were looking for. I hope you found peace," Vi smiled something sad, something lonely, something full of love and before she stood, before she rose to her feet and turned to leave she found herself staring at a small wooden carving of a monkey and she smiled a little more fully, a little more honestly.

She reached out and picked it up, she stared at it for a long while and Vi found herself hoping that Jinx knew she was loved and forgiven.

And so Vi tucked the monkey carving into her pocket and took her leave of old memories. At least for now.

Powder paced back and forth slowly. Her mind was moving from one idea to the other as she thought, considered, argued with herself and sorted idea after idea into order. She could feel herself spiralling, she could feel herself losing grip of what exactly she was trying to do.

She forced herself to stop, she forced herself to slow, to ease her breathing and steady her mind.

Powder took in a deep breath, she held it for so long that her lungs started to protest and then she exhaled. And it helped. It helped clear her mind, it helped clear the voices and calm herself.

She had too many ideas. She knew that. She had too many things to figure out and she knew it would be easier with Ekko, with Heimerdinger. But yet again she didn't want to bring Ekko into this until she knew what she needed and she couldn't bring Heimerdinger into this because he wasn't here.

Powder scoffed, she threw her head back and looked up into the far distance overhead. Powder fell down where she stood and looked to her left. Vi's portrait stared at her and Powder smiled, the expression small and apologetic.

"Sorry for bringing down the mood, sis," Powder said.

She could almost hear Vi's response, she could almost hear her voice if she concentrated hard enough. But only just. After all this time, after all the years it had gotten harder, it had gotten more difficult and she wondered if that was what healing was supposed to be like. Or she wondered if she was being selfish, not fighting for Vi's memory more than she should.

She didn't know why but a sudden surge of guilt hit her and Powder bit her lip, chewed on it and frowned before she turned from Vi's portrait and stared out at the machinery that lay just where it had been when not-Ekko and Heimerdinger both vanished.

Powder knew she'd need to do something soon. She knew the longer she dragged this out the longer it would eat her up inside and she knew it would do her no good. Ekko deserved better too. He deserved answers, he deserved explanations and he had been more than understanding, more than forgiving of her oddities over the months.

"I think I'm about to do something really stupid," Powder said quietly.

Once more she could hear Vi's warning, her voice, what she'd say and perhaps this time is was a little clearer than it had been moments ago. She found herself picturing Vi not as she had been either, but as she was in not-Ekko's paintings. For some reason Powder thoughts those paintings easy to picture moving, walking, talking like Vi, jumping through the Lanes, from rooftop to rooftop and Powder knew. She knew why. Or it was hope. Foolish hope. Foolish desire, unexplainable reason.

But Powder realised she wanted it to be true.

She turned back to the portrait of Vi and she stared, she studied it, memorised it for the thousandth time. Vi seemed sure, confident, kind and so understanding in her portrait and Powder hoped Vi would understand what she was going through. She had always been there, even when she was angry at her, even when she was young.

Through all the ups and downs Powder knew Vi had had her back and protected her and only wanted her to succeed and perhaps it was selfish, perhaps it was morbid curiosity or a desire to explore, she didn't know.

All she knew was that not-Ekko had awoken something in her despite her better judgement.

Powder chewed her lip again and she looked at Vi again, she reached out and brushed a finger against the weathered portrait and then she stood.

Powder walked towards the platform slowly, her eyes moving over the machinery, the conduits and the wires. It only took her a moment to open the small access panel to the core to reveal a few remaining shards of the blue crystals not-Ekko had retrieved. They still sparkled, still glowed and Powder frowned in thought.

She looked around her once more and she remembered the mess that had been left behind, she remembered the power that she had felt and seen and she reached forward, took all but the smallest of shards and pocketed them. She'd run a test, a small one, a safe one. Something she'd be able to control by herself, shut off quickly if she needed to.

She closed the panel, made sure it was sealed as tightly as possible and then she eyed the levers, the connections that had remained firmly connected.

Suddenly the bravado she had felt moments ago started to fade, suddenly the drive, the determination started to ebb and Powder stopped. She stopped and she stared. Her hand was halfway extended towards the lever that she knew would power up the machine. She watched her fingers trembling ever so slightly and she felt her adrenaline beginning to surge.

But through that fear, through that uncertainty she realised she felt excitement, too. And it was an excitement that she had felt with not-Ekko and Heimerdinger and she wanted to feel it again, at least for one single moment.

Powder looked back at Vi's portrait, she stared at her sister and she smiled at her, the expression a little smaller.

"If this goes wrong you can tell me I told you so, sis," Powder said.

Her mind was made up.

Powder turned back to the levers and she closed the distance. The metal beneath her palm was cold. Her fingers closed around the metal and she took in a deep steadying breath before she pulled.

There was a subtle whir, a subtle bubbling of something she could barely describe and then the machine started to hum, started to breathe, vibrate, slowly power up as the arcane took hold, as it started surging, powered by the single small shard of crystal.

Powder stared at the platform, she stared at the spot not-Ekko had appeared and then vanished and she suddenly felt a little unsure, a little uncertain and a little fear.

But Powder wouldn't back down, the voices in the recesses of her mind told her to be strong, to not give in to the unknowns but to take control, take ownership of them and fight for what she wanted.

Powder bit her lip as she stared, as she continued to look at that spot on the platform as if she willed something to form from the nothing that currently lay before her.

The machine still whirred and spun up, it still fought itself into power and for a brief moment Powder thought it wouldn't work, wouldn't do anything, wouldn't dare give her any kind of answer that she was searching for.

But then she saw it.

And it was subtle. Just there. Barely noticeable.

In the centre of the platform was a rippling, shimmering curtain of light. In the dark it was almost unnoticeable and Powder could see it. She wondered if it would grow in size, she wondered if it would sputter out and so she waited. She waited and she watched. Minutes must have gone by, minutes must have settled around her but the longer she waited the more the mirage remained as steady as it had been when it first appeared.

Powder let go of the lever, she slowly started to walk forward and she was cautious, careful. She remembered how not-Ekko had floated in the air, she remembered him disappearing before her eyes and she didn't want that, not without knowing what was going to happen.

Powder came to a stop at the edge of the platform. She would get any nearer but she was close enough to see everything she needed.

The mirage was clear, or see through or whatever else she could think of. She could see the other side of the platform, she could see the rock in the distance and she could see everything just the way it was supposed to be.

Other than the mirage, of course. Powder frowned. She continued to look at it and she slowly started to circle it, slowly started to see if there was more to it then what she first saw. She got halfway around the platform's circumference before she stopped. She got halfway around it before her eyes started staring at something she couldn't quite explain.

She was looking back at where she had stood but instead of the machinery, instead of the shrine in the distance and instead of anything she should have been seeing she instead saw a haphazard mess of trinkets, a cushion, a chair, a discarded couch. Paint littered almost every surface, bright colours, blues and violets and they danced and mixed together and Powder frowned. She blinked and she rubbed her eyes and she shook her head before looking back into the mirage.

But what she saw remained, what she saw didn't change.

Powder slowly moved around the mirage again until she came back to where she stared and she looked behind her only to find everything where it was supposed to be. She turned back to the mirage, she walked around the edge of the platform until she could see that same place and she paused.

As she looked at the structure, the shadows and the light cast from high overhead she realised it was the same place, she realised it was the same time of day and she paused.

She paused and she tried to make sense of everything that was happening. Despite the mirage, despite the rippling of the air in front of her and the blurred edges of this window she was certain what she saw was real.

Powder started thinking about not-Ekko. She started thinking about everything he said, everything he did and things started to make sense.

Or perhaps it wasn't sense. Not in the way she thought of it.

But she started to put pieces of the puzzle into place, pieces of the unknown into categories she could start to begin.

Powder bit her lip as an idea came to her. She looked around for something small, something easy to pick up, something she wouldn't entirely miss and her eyes settled on a small wood carving of a monkey she had made, something small, something light, something she wouldn't miss. She picked it up, she held it in her palm and she stared at it for a long, long time.

She didn't know what was going to happen. She didn't know if it was dangerous, if it could cause an explosion and she knew she shouldn't do what she was going to do. She knew the last time she had been too curious, too inquisitive about the unknown she had done something that had torn her to pieces and she wished she could take it back forever.

But this time Powder was alone. This time there was no one else to get hurt except for herself.

And she wanted answers.

She needed answers.

Powder looked past the mirage, she looked at the portrait of Vi and she smiled at her, the expression small, confident, hopeful.

And then Powder threw the small wood carving through the mirage.