🎶: Get Up Stand Up - Lexxi Saal
The afternoon sunlight spilled through the café windows, golden and warm, but Katarina felt none of its comfort. She sat by the window, her fingers tracing the edge of her tea cup, but her focus was elsewhere. The gentle warmth of the room felt at odds with the sharp, calculated thoughts cutting through her mind. This is how it works. You step in, you push the right buttons, and you watch the pieces crumble.
Katarina had done it a hundred times before. She knew how to read people—how to find the places where their defenses were weakest, how to plant the seeds of doubt that would grow into chaos. But this time, it felt different. It shouldn't have, but it did. Her green eyes flicked toward the café door just as it opened. Garen walked in, his easy smile breaking through the late afternoon haze. He radiated warmth, a golden aura that seemed at home in this polished, orderly world. He spotted her and waved, his grin widening as he made his way over.
For a brief moment, guilt twisted in Katarina's chest. But then Lux's voice cut through her mind: "Break them apart. Caitlyn isn't as untouchable as she thinks. You just have to show them why." All this for an unrequited love obsession, what a waste of time. She forced a smile as Garen sat down across from her, pushing the guilt aside.
"Hey," Garen said, sliding into the chair and setting his bag on the floor. He leaned back, stretching briefly before flashing her a smile. "Thanks for waiting. Professor Oswyn decided his version of ethics needed an extra thirty minutes of his wisdom."
Katarina smirked, her earlier turmoil buried beneath a practiced facade. "It's fine. Just as long as you're not planning to share those ethics with me."
He chuckled, his laugh warm and unguarded. "I'll spare you this time."
The banter was easy, almost too easy. Katarina hated that she enjoyed it. This was supposed to be a means to an end—a mission, not a connection. She stirred her tea absently, her mind already calculating the next move. "So," she began, tilting her head slightly, "your sister hangs out with Caitlyn's group a lot, doesn't she?"
Garen nodded, leaning forward slightly. "I would say, yeah recently. Lux practically feels like she owes Caitlyn for uh… something that happened in freshman year."
Katarina's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, her interest piqued. She tilted her head, feigning casual curiosity, but her mind was already turning, sharp and focused. "Oh?" she said, her tone light. "What happened?"
Garen hesitated, his easy demeanor faltering for the first time since their conversation began. He looked down at his coffee cup, fingers tapping lightly against the ceramic. "It's... complicated," he said after a moment, his voice quieter. "Something personal between Lux and Caitlyn. Let's just say Caitlyn really helped her out when she needed it."
Katarina noted the slight furrow in his brow, the way his jaw tightened ever so slightly. He's uncomfortable, she realized. The detail intrigued her more than the answer itself. Garen wasn't the type to dodge a question unless it mattered. Whatever Caitlyn had done for Lux, it wasn't just a small favor—it carried weight. The kind of weight she could use.
Her lips curled into a faint smile, a calculated expression designed to disarm. "That must be interesting. Caitlyn seems... particular. I imagine not everyone gets along with her so easily."
Garen shrugged, his shoulders relaxing slightly as the topic shifted. "She's definitely particular, but that's why people respect her. She knows what she's doing."
Katarina tilted her head, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "And what about Vi?" she asked, her tone casual but deliberate. "It's pretty obvious Lux has a thing for her."
Garen's jaw tightened, his usual ease slipping away. "Yeah," he said slowly. "She does. Lux... She's always looked up to Vi. It's complicated."
Katarina arched a brow, feigning light curiosity while her mind worked quickly. "Complicated? Or impossible? Vi doesn't seem like the type to notice... subtlety. Especially not with Caitlyn always by her side."
Garen frowned, his fingers tapping against his coffee cup. "Caitlyn's not getting in the way. She's just... looking out for Vi. Making sure she doesn't do something reckless."
"Looking out for her?" Katarina repeated, leaning forward slightly. "Or keeping her to herself?"
"It's not like that," Garen said firmly, but his voice faltered.
Katarina's smirk grew slightly as she watched Garen hesitate, his earlier certainty wavering under the weight of her words. She leaned forward just a bit, her voice softening, almost sympathetic. "It's not just Caitlyn, though, is it? Lux might never say it, but it must hurt, always being... second place."
Garen stiffened, his frown deepening. "Lux doesn't feel that way," he said, but the defensiveness in his tone betrayed him.
Katarina tilted her head, feigning a thoughtful expression. "Are you sure? Think about it—Lux is trying to prove herself, to someone who doesn't even notice, while Caitlyn's always there, standing in the way. Maybe she doesn't feel like she can say anything to you because..." She paused, letting the silence hang just long enough to twist the knife. "Well, you're her brother. You'd take Caitlyn's side, wouldn't you?"
Garen's jaw tightened, and he looked away, his fingers gripping his coffee cup so tightly his knuckles whitened. "That's not fair," he muttered, but there was doubt in his voice now.
Katarina leaned back, letting a faint smile settle on her lips. "Fair or not, Lux might see it that way. And it's not like you've done anything to change her mind, have you?"
He glanced up at her sharply, but she didn't flinch. She met his gaze, calm and unbothered, as though she were simply pointing out something obvious. The tension in his expression said it all—he'd never considered it before, but now that she'd planted the idea, it wouldn't go away.
"I'm just saying," she added lightly, her tone breezy again, "it's worth thinking about. Sometimes loyalty can blind you to what's really going on." She picked up her tea and took a slow sip, watching him carefully over the rim of her cup. "It must be hard for her," Katarina added softly, "Wanting to step out of the shadow of someone so... larger-than-life. Maybe she doesn't even realize it yet."
As Garen took a sip of his coffee, lost in thought, Katarina felt the familiar rush of control—the thrill of knowing she had nudged the first domino. But beneath it, something else stirred. Guilt. It was a quiet, insistent whisper, gnawing at the edges of her resolve. You're supposed to be better than this, the thought came unbidden. You're not here to make friends. You're here to break them.
"You're her brother," Katarina said, tilting her head. "If anyone could help her figure things out, it's you. But maybe it's hard to see clearly when you're... so close to Caitlyn."
Her chest tightened as she watched Garen wrestle with her words, his usual confidence shaken. He didn't deserve this. None of them did. But it didn't matter. Lux's orders were clear. The plan was already in motion. You're just doing what you're told, she reminded herself bitterly. You've done worse. Why should this feel any different? But it did. And that was the problem.
-ਠŕ§-
The Last Drop's Basement – Mechanics Lab
The drone sputtered mid-air, letting out a high-pitched whine before crashing onto the cluttered workbench in a mess of sparks and smoke. "Again?" Powder groaned, throwing her hands up in exasperation as she stepped back. "I swear this thing hates me."
"It doesn't hate you," Ekko said, already grabbing a wrench. "It just knows you're too reckless with it."
Powder crossed her arms, glaring at him. "Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Perfect. You want to fix it, then?"
Ekko shot her a look, his lips quirking into a faint smirk. "Relax, I've got it. Step back and let a pro handle this."
Powder stuck out her tongue but complied, leaning against the nearest wall as Ekko hunched over the broken drone. The dim light from a makeshift lamp cast sharp shadows across his focused expression. Sparks flew again as he tightened something, muttering under his breath.
"Maybe if you didn't overclock the rotors—"
"It was supposed to make it faster!" Powder interrupted, her voice defensive but tinged with amusement.
"—it wouldn't keep frying itself," Ekko finished, ignoring her protest.
She sighed dramatically, pushing off the wall and crouching beside him. "You're such a buzzkill, you know that?"
"And you're impossible to work with," Ekko shot back, his tone playful. He flicked a switch, and the drone buzzed back to life, hovering unsteadily but functioning. "There. Fixed. Again."
Powder tilted her head, watching it with a critical eye. "It's wobbling. That's not fixed."
Ekko rolled his eyes. "It's wobbling because your modifications made it top-heavy. Maybe next time, don't strap a rocket to a drone meant for scanning fields."
The banter continued as they set the drone aside and moved to their larger project—a blueprint sprawled across the central workbench. Powder grabbed a stool, spinning idly as Ekko spread out his latest sketches.
"I'm telling you, Powder," he began, tapping a pencil against the paper, "we stick with something practical. The Konte judges want solutions. If we focus on agriculture—helping with crop yields, soil monitoring—we'll have a real shot."
Powder groaned, spinning faster. "Agriculture? Come on, Ekko. That's so predictable. You really think they're gonna remember us for building... what? A fancy tractor?"
"It's not a tractor," he said with a sigh, running a hand over his hair. "It's about making farming sustainable. Helping people. That's the point."
"Boring," Powder said, coming to a stop and leaning forward on her knees. "You're thinking too small. We need something they won't forget. Something that actually feels... exciting."
Ekko raised an eyebrow. "Exciting? Powder, this isn't about putting on a show. It's about results."
"Who says we can't do both?" she countered, grabbing her notebook and flipping through the chaotic sketches. "Look. Modular drones. One scans the soil, another plants seeds, another maps growth. All controlled remotely. It's useful, scalable, and, most importantly, cool."
Ekko studied her designs, his brow furrowing. "Cool doesn't win competitions. Results do."
Powder crossed her arms, undeterred. "But cool gets their attention. Imagine a farmer running their whole operation from an app, watching these drones buzz around like magic."
Ekko sighed, pacing the room as he weighed her words. "It's risky," he said finally. "If one part fails, the whole system goes down."
"Then we make sure it doesn't fail," Powder said confidently. "You're the detail guy. Balance me out. We can pull this off if we work together."
He hesitated, then smiled faintly. "Alright. We'll try it your way. But it has to work, Powder. No half-baked ideas."
She whooped, punching the air. "Yes! You won't regret this, Ekko."
"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, shaking his head as he joined her at the workbench. "Just don't blow it up again."
"No promises," she said with a mischievous grin, already diving into the parts pile.
-ਠŕ§-
🎶: can u see me in the dark? - Halestorm, I Prevail
The dull thud of her gloves connecting with Loris's pads echoed through the gym, the rhythm steady and unforgiving. Jab, cross, hook—Vi's fists flew with precision, each strike landing harder than the last. Sweat dripped down her brow, stinging her eyes, but she didn't let up. The faint hum of a rock playlist filled the background, but it barely registered over the sound of her breathing and the slap of her gloves against Loris's pads.
"Damn, Vi," Loris grunted, shaking out his hand after absorbing a particularly hard cross. "You trying to knock me out til next week?"
"Just keep moving," Vi muttered, her tone clipped but not unfriendly. She stepped back, rolling her shoulders, then moved in again with another flurry of punches. Jab. Cross. Hook. The rhythm came naturally, almost mechanical. Focus, she told herself, her jaw tightening. Don't think. Don't feel. Just hit. But her thoughts wouldn't stay quiet.
It had only been last night, but it lingered in her chest like a spark that refused to die. Caitlyn's hesitant smile, the way her voice softened as she confessed, "I like you, Vi." It had taken every ounce of willpower not to grab her right then, to kiss her before the words had even settled. But she'd held back just long enough to make sure Caitlyn really meant it, that this wasn't some fleeting moment. And then she'd kissed her.
Vi's fist slammed into the pad, the sound louder this time, drawing a low whistle from Loris. "You're putting some heat on those punches today," he said, stepping back to readjust the gloves on his hands. "What's got you so fired up?"
But then there had been the moment after. The one that had knocked the wind out of Vi more than any punch ever had.
"Can we keep this low-key?" Caitlyn had asked, her voice steady but laced with a vulnerability Vi hadn't seen before. "Just until I figure out how to ease my mother into this?"
Vi hadn't hesitated when she said yes. How could she? Caitlyn is worth it. But even now, standing in the gym, throwing punches at Loris like her life depended on it, the words echoed in her mind. Low-key. Like it was something to hide. Like they weren't supposed to be this, whatever this was. Vi's next punch came too hard, nearly knocking Loris off balance. He stepped back, lowering the pads and giving her a pointed look. "Alright, what's going on? You're not just working out demons—you're exorcising them."
Vi sighed, running a gloved hand through her damp hair. "It's nothing," she muttered, but even she didn't believe it.
"Bullshit," Loris shot back, crossing his arms.
Vi exhaled sharply, looking away. "Drop it, Loris."
"Oh, so it's one of those things," Loris said, his voice laced with mock seriousness. "Fine, let me guess." He tapped a gloved finger against his chin theatrically. "Is it about Riven? Did she say something to piss you off again?"
Vi rolled her eyes. "It's not about Riven."
"Alright, then it's gotta be Caitlyn," Loris pressed, his smirk widening. "What's going on with you two?"
Vi tensed, her gloves clenching reflexively. "What makes you think it's about Caitlyn?" she asked, her voice carefully neutral.
Loris raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly as if daring her to deny it. "Oh, I don't know," he said, his tone light but knowing. "Maybe because whenever someone says her name, you either get all quiet and broody, or you try to change the subject. Or, you know, start punching things harder. It's kind of a dead giveaway."
Vi huffed, a frustrated sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. "You think you're so smart, don't you?"
"I know I'm smart," Loris said with a grin. "So, is it Caitlyn?"
"It's not—" Vi started, but the words caught in her throat. She glanced at Loris, his smug expression softening just enough to show genuine curiosity. She groaned, tugging at the straps of her gloves as she shook her head.
Loris tilted his head, his grin fading into something sharper, more serious. "Alright, you don't want to talk about Caitlyn, fine. But since we're being all tense and cryptic, there's something I need to get off my chest."
Vi raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You've got something to confess now?"
"It's about Riven," Loris said, his tone dropping into something heavier, almost cautious.
Vi straightened slightly, her guard going up instinctively. "What about her?"
Loris leaned against the ropes, the usual spark of mischief gone from his eyes. "Riven is just off man," he said quietly, his tone measured. "There's something about her I can't shake, Vi. And it's not just me—Sam's noticed it too. We've noticed for a while now."
Vi's jaw tightened, her gaze dropping for a moment as Loris's words settled uncomfortably in her chest. Riven? She hadn't expected this. She thought about the countless times Riven had been a thorn in her side—arrogant, sharp-tongued, always acting like she was ten steps ahead of everyone else. But even so, the one thing Riven said that stood out in her mind: "Caitlyn deserves someone who's willing to fight for her. Someone who's not afraid of what it means to stand beside her, to challenge her, to be worthy of her. And you? You're too busy running away to figure out how to be that person."
Loris exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "You know how many Noxians have been through Piltover U? Barely any. And when they do, there's always trouble. Weird ass shit that come out of nowhere. I don't know, Vi, but it's like every time, something bad follows them. And now, here's Riven—always watching too closely."
Vi tilted her head, wiping the back of her glove across her forehead. "Okay, so what's your point, Loris?" she asked, her tone sharper than she intended. "You think Riven's, what—here to stir up trouble? Wreck Caitlyn's life? Or are you just suspicious 'cause she's not falling over herself to be best buddies with everyone?" She gestured toward him, raising her gloves again. "Look, if you've got something solid, let's hear it. Otherwise, can we get back to it?"
Loris blinked, visibly caught off guard. For a moment, he just stared at Vi, his mouth opening as if to retort, but no words came out. He finally managed, "Wait a second... Are you actually standing up for Riven? Riven, the girl who'd probably laugh in your face if she knew you were defending her?"
Vi shrugged, her expression unreadable. "I'm not defending her," she said coolly, her voice steady. "I'm just saying, you and Sam pointing fingers at her without proof isn't exactly helpful. Riven's a pain in the ass, sure, but if she wanted to screw with Caitlyn or anyone else, I think we'd all know by now."
She jabbed the air, her fists loosening slightly as she waited for Loris to raise the pads again. A smirk tugged at her lips as she tilted her head. "What's the matter, Loris? You lose your nerve, or are you just scared I'll punch the conspiracy theories right outta your head?"
I'm not defending her, she repeated to herself, though the words rang hollow. Riven wasn't exactly someone Vi would call a friend. She was too fucking arrogant, self-absorbed in a way that rubbed Vi the fucking wrong way. But then again, Riven wasn't wrong about everything either. She helped me in her own screwed-up way, Vi thought, stepping back and flexing her fingers inside her gloves. I owe her that much.
-ਠŕ§-
Maddie's boots clicking softly against the cobblestone path as she approached her destination. The air was crisp, and the faint glow of distant streetlights illuminated just enough to keep her steps steady, but not enough to reveal where she was going. Her hand brushed against the edge of her jacket pocket, feeling the weight of her phone and the notes she'd tucked inside. The structure loomed ahead, shrouded in shadow, its details obscured by the dark. Maddie's lips curled into a faint smile as she climbed the stone steps, her gaze flicking to the insignia etched into the iron gate—an elegant design, coiled and sinister. She raised her hand and knocked, her fist meeting the polished surface twice, the sound echoing in the stillness.
The door opened, revealing an older man in a sharp black suit. His expression was calm, but his eyes were sharp, taking her in with a glance that felt more like an assessment. Without a word, he stepped aside, his silent invitation laced with expectation. Maddie stepped inside, her movements deliberate, her smirk widening as she took in the grandeur before her.
The foyer was all marble and glass, reflecting the muted glow of the chandelier overhead. Maddie's steps were soundless as she followed the butler through the maze of hallways, her hands tucked casually in her pockets as her eyes darted to every corner. Expensive art lined the walls, their subjects cold and distant, and every inch of the space exuded old, immovable power. They stopped in front of a set of heavy double doors, the wood dark and polished to a mirror-like finish. The butler opened them without a word, the faint creak breaking the silence as Maddie stepped inside.
The room was dimly lit, the fireplace casting long, flickering shadows against the rich, mahogany walls. Shelves lined with leather-bound books stretched high, the gilded spines catching the light in glints. The furniture was sparse but deliberately placed, every piece exuding understated wealth. It was beautiful, but there was something unsettling about it—a kind of darkness that lingered in the air, woven into the fabric of the space itself. Standing by the fireplace was a figure, tall and lean, his back turned as he stared into the flames. The firelight danced along the sharp lines of his silhouette, highlighting the angular edges of his form.
Maddie paused, her smirk growing as she tilted her head. The man turned slowly, his face emerging from the shadows with a calm, unreadable expression. His eyes were sharp, glinting with something that bordered on amusement but leaned closer to calculation.
"Miss Nolan," he drawled, his voice low and smooth. "I've been expecting you."
Maddie stepped further into the room, letting the door close behind her with a soft click. She didn't sit, not yet. Instead, she took her time, her eyes flicking over the bookshelves, the furniture, the way the firelight played against the walls. Finally, she turned her gaze to the man, her smirk curling wider.
"Alton," she said, her voice laced with false sweetness. "It's been a while."
The corners of his mouth twitched upward into a smile
ਠEND OF MINI CHAPTER ŕ§