text to speech dump from ao3 Chapter 2: jinx x OCinsert (yes I have a type)144k, a 009-1 fanfic

Preface

Don't Call It a Comeback
Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at /works/62507659.

Rating: Explicit Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage Sex Categories: F/F, F/M Fandoms: Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021), League of Legends Relationships: Jinx (League of Legends)/Original Character(s), Silco (Arcane: League of Legends) & Original Character(s), Jinx (League of Legends) & Silco (Arcane: League of Legends), Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends) Characters: Original Characters, Jinx (League of Legends), Silco (Arcane: League of Legends), Sevika (Arcane: League of Legends), Deckard (Arcane: League of Legends), Singed Corin Reveck, Warwick (League of Legends), Caitlyn (League of Legends), Vi (League of Legends) Additional Tags: Unreliable Narrator, Yandere, Dubious Morality, self-gaslighting, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Eventual Smut, Romance, Codependency, slight AU, Ionian Invasion Happend Earlier, It's Not Incest if You're Not Related
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2025-01-26 Updated: 2025-03-12 Words: 144,397 Chapters: 22/? Don't Call It a Comeback

by Placeholder77

Summary

Runeterra is on the precipice of change. Champions are rising. An empire seeks to expand. Relics from the past are returning.

And in Piltover's Undercity, the spark has been lit.

This is the chaotic world Vivek has found himself in. Reborn as the son of an infamous crime lord, he grapples with revolutionary ideas and the cost of freedom.

Unfortunately, he barely has any knowledge of League of Legends. And he certainly has never heard of a show called Arcane.

What he does know is this: he'll carve out his own piece of the pie if he has to.

Notes

Hello, AO3! Some of my readers on Questionable Questing recommended me to post this here. Some background: this is my first fic as the original AN below says. The writing this first chapter is a little choppy, but I get a lot better as we go along. I started this just a few months ago and I'm proud of how far my writing has come since then. Honestly, a bit embarrassing looking back at this first chapter, but I made it out of love. With that said, I won't be making too many edits to these early chapters as I think seeing that growth is good context for the Author Notes. I like to think as Vivek develops as a character, I develop as an author.

I'm at 18 chapters so far at 120k words. I'll be posting every other day or such until we're caught up. And I normally post a new chapter about every week. I'm starting to mess with some formatting tricks and inserting pictures. I'm formatting this on QQ first, so I can't promise it'll always look 1–1, but I'll do my best to make sure it looks good on this site too. If you want to read ahead or check out some extras, like character art and omakes, I'd recommend looking at the original thread.

Finally, I'm always open to constructive criticism. I'm really determined to make a good story. I'm happy with my progress so far, but I can always do better. Although, maybe wait until the newer chapters, as that'll be the most relevant to what I'm writing now.

The original thread (because I can't figure out how to imbed links in notes): https/forum./threads/dont-call-it-a-comeback-arcane-si.28990/

Another Brick in the Wall

A.N: So, I was rewatching Arcane in preparation for season 2 when this idea popped into my head. I couldn't find any story like this, and this idea just wouldn't leave my head. So, I decided to write it for myself. This is my first fic ever. I've been reading fanfiction for like half my life, but I've never managed to write anything. I'm used to writing essays, but this is my first time taking creative writing this seriously in a long time. With that being said, I would greatly appreciate any constructive criticism you can offer.

I know there's some season 2 spoilers popping around, I would kindly ask you to not discuss them until the episodes are released. Or at least keep it in spoiler boxes.

Also, I know what forum this is. Besides any future gratuitous violence, I will be trying my hand at some smut. Just let me cook first.

A wooden bat struck him on the side of the head.

The force of the blow rocked the man, knocking him and the chair to the side. Blood pooled from his mouth onto the concrete. Harsh rope restricting his movement and cutting into his wrists. Two thick hands grabbed the arms of the chair, righting it to its proper place roughly while his heart pounded in his ears.

The blood and spittle dribbled down his chin and on to his clothes. A grey undershirt held by suspenders leading down to brown leather shoes. A clear working man. The world no longer spinning, Jagger's eyes refocused on his surroundings. The inside of a factory. Shrouded in darkness, only a dim light from an apparatus on the ground allowed Jagger to see.

A few other figures could be seen in this dim light. Two men with tattooed figures, tall with defined muscles. One, with his grip around a bat. And the other, a visible pistol stuffed in a holster on his left side. Slightly behind and in the middle of them was a child. Unlike the rest of the men, the boy's clothes were clean, neither blood nor grime covering his matching black button-up and jeans. Neatly combed black hair framing a pale face with bright blue eyes. A red handkerchief in his left breast-pocket. A soft face with high cheek bones contrasting the rough, calloused men.

However, the boy's eyes were empty. There was no innocence to be found. In any other place this fact would be a shame. Unfortunately, this was the Undercity of Piltover. This was a necessity that all children would face eventually face. An understood truth of the world they lived in.

"I DIDN'T DO SHIT!" Jagger screamed, his scent smelling of cheap mouthwash and shaving cream, heaving in chair. His accent giving away which part of the Lanes he was from. "This is a mistake," he begged to the boy's emotionless face. "I'm loyal to your father…you know that, Vivek!"

The boy only stared.

"Hmm…I'm not so sure about that," the now named Vivek mused out loud. "After all, our supply going missing right as a new dealer pops up," he tilted his head slightly, "especially right on the edge of our territory?" Vivek stared into Jagger's wild eyes, "Not hard to put two and two together. That's pretty obvious, even for you."

Jagger's heart pounded in his chest. This jumped-up brat, he thought in irritation, daddy's little fuckin' helper.

"You know me! C'mon Vek, we're buds, we-"

Vivek glanced to his left. "Again." Jagger's head snapped to his right. A sharp crack echoed, the sound spreading to every corner of the building. This time, not hard enough to knock the chair over.

Slowly drawing his eyes up, he glared at Vivek.

"Ya' think you're tough shit, you're just Sumpsnipe like the rest of us…" The pain in his mouth sharp and hot, "The fuck you know about providing for yourself! Getting respect!" The boy remained impassive for a second, letting the silence draw out. The distant whir of machinery and heaving of a bloody man the only sound audible

"We're not close enough for Vek," he responded, ignoring what Jagger said entirely. Jagger spit out a wad of blood, glaring at the boy.

The child's foot began to tap rapidly, even as his face was like it was carved from stone. A tell of his growing anxiety, of his understanding of the real reason why this man was bound in front of him. All the while the leg-breaker on the left rested his bat on his shoulder, uncaring of the blood it smeared. A bored look in his eyes with a relaxed posture. This man was accustomed to violence, as all in this factory were to an extent, lives defined by the struggle.

While Jagger continued his curses and pleas, Vivek eyes seemed to stare through the man. Almost as if he was cloud gazing on a lazy day. "What did you even think would happen?" he asked the man. "It was so stupid that you had to have known- "

It was then that Vivek was interrupted.

"That's enough." A voice resounded form the darkness, "you're drawing this out too much." Jagger shot a look above Vivek.

In the darkness, an orange eye was visible, like a predator lazily eyeing its prey, a man slowly made his way into the dim light. Tall and thin with dark cropped hair, he walked with a confidence in his steps. On the left side of his face, what seemed like chemical burns reached up meeting the black sclera of his eye. The pool of darkness gently held his amber eye, contrasting the blue of his right eye. The light showed off his three-piece Promenade suit. The status reflected in it contrasting all except the child in front of him. The two men standing glanced his way, stepping to the side, showing their deference for him.

"Respect you say?" Silco drawled out, his burnt eyelid showing his full right eye staring unblinkingly at the bound man. "You've disrespected me and my enterprise," he remarked as he loomed behind the boy. The two interposed like this, it was clear for anyone to see:

They were father and son.

Jagger's curses stopped with the arrival of the man he directly slighted. His heartbeat quickened, Silco's mere appearance in front of him racketing up the tension in the room. There was a reason this man commanded so much fear and respect in equal measure.

"And what…does disrespect lead to," Silco asked leadingly as his hands rested on his son's shoulders, the question not intended for Jagger.

Vivek answered his father, his eyes narrowing. "Disrespect leads to disloyalty. It makes people think they can get away with taking advantage of you."

Silco continued, eyes never leaving Jagger as the doomed man started to hyperventilate. "And how do we show we are not to be taken advantage of?"

"SILCO PLEASE!" Jagger cut in, "This won't happen again! I PROMISE!" Immediately throwing away the lie that he did no wrong when faced with Silco. When faced with the promise of death. In the Undercity, pain was a fact of life. Whether though violence, the water, the very air they breathed, pain was a constant. Pain, albeit unpleased, was something that Jagger could comprehend. But with death all reason went out the window. Everyone in this factory understood that Jagger was guilty. Even Jagger himself knew this. The back-and-forth questioning was merely a pretense that needed to be followed.

"We make an example," Vivek finished blandly, his finger starting to tap on his thigh. He hesitated, his own heart starting to race under his button-up. Silco's hands slightly squeezed his son's shoulders. His attempt at a comforting gesture. Vivek glanced to his right, holding out his hand.

The tan man had been quietly awaiting his part for the entire night. He casually grabbed his gun and handed it to Vivek handle first. The boy grabbed it, feeling the weight in his right hand. A brown grip into slightly rusted steel. Seemingly mismatched pieces of gears visible on the pistol. Rough grooves indicating that this was of Undercity make.

Vivek held it with both hands, the wide barrel pointing to the floor.

Seeing this, Jagger dropped all pretense of pleading. "You think you're HOT SHIT," his eyes were wide and afraid, looking between the boy and the man behind him. "Both of you, what makes you think you're better than me, HUH! You're fuckin' people over too! It is what it is!"

Vivek continued for his father, ignoring Jagger once again. His hands slightly shaking. "And if I'm gonna order it…I have to be willing to do it myself." Jagger continued to rant, shaking as he raved in his chair. The two lackeys stared at the boy, sympathetic, but eyes cold. Silco, for the first time since showing himself, looked down at Vivek. He has too many obvious tells. The kingpin thought.

Silco's face remained impassive, but his eyes were warm.

"IT'LL NEVER HAPPEN, YOUR DREAM IS DEAD! ZAUN IS-"

CRACK

Jagger's head snapped back. Blood and brain matter slapped onto the concrete. The noise was like a firecracker, it sharply reverberated through the factory. The emptiness of the building allowed it to echo.

The following silence caused the ringing in Vivek's ears to sting even more. His heart pounding in his chest, his eyes were now fixated on the now dead man's unseeing ones. Even more blood covered Jagger's face. The dead man's mouth was agape, blood collecting at the back of his throat. With the hole in his head, he seemed more like a rubber doll than a human.

Vivek muttered, "Sorry Mick..." less out of genuine remorse, and more for the lack of anything better to say.

Silco glanced at his followers, motioning with his head. The one on the right sighed, before he grabbed the chair not even bothering to untie the corpse. The one on the left dropped his bat with a clack as he moved to assist the rightward lackey. Silco watched as the two took the body away. Not to dispose of it, but to make it visible. A dead body in the Undercity wouldn't be too shocking of a sight. But even the lowest urchin could understand what was being said by the context of where it would be placed.

With the helpers gone, Vivek allowed his mask to fall, trying to blink away the unshed tears that had gathered in his eyes. Too kind for his own good, Silco mused slowly cupping his son's face. "Do you regret it?" he asked.

"I... I don't," Vivek responded. "that's...what this was for right? So I don't freeze up?"

"Yes. Better you than him." Silco continued, "he pawned our supply to any he could come across, abusive to anyone he could afford to be, always placing the blame on others. He wouldn't be missed." He stated this, ignoring the fact that the nicest man on Runeterra could betray him, and he would still murder him. Jagger was just a good opportunity for the boy to whet his feet.

"I-I feel bad but, for him? For me?" Vivek stared into his father's blue and molten orange eyes unafraid. "Maybe he doesn't deserve it, but I- " He closed his eyes tightly, tears not falling. Silco crouched down, wrapping one arm around his back and another behind his head.

He murmured softly, "There, there, dear boy. I understand." The kingpin peered into the darkness. "The actions we take are because we must. We do what is necessary for survival." He gazed at something only he could see, an ideal that others were too weak to strive for

Silco breathed slowly through his nose. He drew back slightly to look at his son, and yet despite that kindness… Vivek's eyes were now open and wide on his face like a blue-eyed owl. Silco's face was neutral, there was no strictness to be found.

"There's something I want to show you."

There was no transition going from one life to the next.

To begin with, death was like going to sleep. Cold turned to warmth as my body accepted that this was the end. Oxygen no longer flowing as my lungs contracted for the last time. It was an asthma attack. All my life my condition would follow me, preventing all but the least taxing of exercise. My mother tried her best to afford treatments, but I never begrudged her when she couldn't. Despite my illness, I made the most of my life where I could. Until one day…I reached for more.

I decided to run.

There was a series of now unimportant events that led to this decision. For once I wanted to feel the wind on my skin, hear the pounding of my feet. I wanted to be free. I didn't care about the consequences. I reached for what I wanted, even if it cost me my life.

Which it did. At the ripe age of 19. Now, admittingly, this may seem suicidal-which it was. But like I said, what led to that doesn't really matter right now. What matters is that it ended with my death. A fleeting moment of triumph, snuffed out, gone too soon. I can't say I died with a smile on my face, but I wasn't bitter either. I lived my own way, despite how short-sighted it may have seemed to others.

And yet. I couldn't help the slight melancholy that bubbled up within my dying mind. If things were a little bit different, if I had another chance to do it all again. I would take it. These were my final thoughts as I fell into the final sleep. I didn't expect much from an afterlife, I was just eager to see what-if anything-awaited. And if it didn't? Well, I'd be dead anyways. Wouldn't even be conscious of that fact.

What I very much didn't expect was to wake up.

There were no divine meetings. No meadows or clouds to be found. Just a pitch darkness as I drifted. From there, it was like rousing from a deep sleep. Flashes of images, never coherent enough to make out. A dream that steadily became clear. A fixture of these flashes was a man. Severe, yet smiling softly. A burning eye, contrasted by kind whispers. As my senses started to return to me, I could only feel a profound sense of confusion.

What is this? Am I alive?

It didn't take long for me to realize that this man was my father. The first real one I had in any life. In the blur of sleep, a feeling like a warm blanket swaddling my soul, confusion was replaced with shock.

Reincarnation is real?!

Awareness would start to come more readily. It was less like I was aware from birth and more that it was a gradual process of awakening. I didn't regain memories as much I as became more of myself. I pondered slightly the ramifications of souls being real. Assuming it was my soul that was transferred and not just my consciousness. Did I become Vivek, or did I take his body over time? Was his an empty shell that my soul merely occupied? Ultimately, I decided that my worrying about who I was, and my identity in a previous life, was meaningless.

I know who I am. I am Vivek.

A strange name. One unfamiliar to the culture I grew up in. It wasn't until I saw the outside for the first time that I realized that this was an entirely different world. Honestly, discovering that other worlds existed wasn't as surprising as finding out souls were a thing. But the potential it provided…it opened a literal whole new world to me. I had always loved people. Their culture, history, how they express themselves, their rights and wrongs. I consumed every writing of history and anthropology I could get my hands on. Everything was so new and alien! To have all these possibilities in front of me-

"Pay attention to your surroundings, Vek." Silco lightly chided, "all it takes is once."

"Right, just thinking about some stuff." I responded sheepishly, switching gears from the past and taking in the present in front of me. Sometimes I could be too introspective for my own good.

A city of iron and glass. We were underground. Buildings grasped the sky in sharp angles. It was almost like they were built on a sloping mountain, before collecting at its peak. There the buildings reached higher, serving as foundation for even more buildings above them. It was like nothing I had ever seen before. Walkways in air connected to each other like spider webs. Some, perilously with no guard rails. A clock tower with glass stained green from the smog.

Ironically, I was reborn in a city smothered by a twilight smog. At this layer of the Entresol you could smell it everywhere. An acidic smell that got into your clothes, hair, clung to buildings and polluted waters. It wasn't like chlorine; the smell was sour. A constant that spoke of conditions I would've only dreamed of experiencing back on Earth. Life was hard for the uninitiated. Even for natives it could be.

People of myriad kinds could be seen. Short, tall, thick, ears pointy and not, rough skin with vibrant hues. But a select few could be seen with a type of gas mask on their faces. The style different for each one, but all made with a type of bronze or copper metal. Gold pipes and vents going into oxygen tanks on their sides and backs.

My father looked at these people with gimlet eye, "We aren't deep enough for those to be needed." He remarked, as he often would.

Oh boy here we go.

"They make a mockery of the mines." He began, "disregarding the work that lets them enjoy their lives so freely." He watched as they stumbled, exclaimed wildly, and made themselves a nuisance. "They are parasites feasting on the previous generation." There was a disdainful look in his eye.

Admittingly, the air at this level wasn't the best to breathe. And oxygen masks were definitely needed deeper as noxious fumes were released from both the mines and the smog from the factories. Breather stations were also strategically placed for use across layers. But wearing one here, dead middle of the Entresol? Eh, A bit tacky

To a man like Silco, who worked in those mines, who saw so much despair borne from them; it couldn't be anything else but an insult. Any yet despite that, I asked him, "But we can see a lot of them in our territory?" Not accusingly but pointing out the irony of his words. They were a steadily growing subculture of the Undercity. One of the many that could be found down here.

The Kingpin, thin as a scarecrow, turned his head to address me. "I tolerate them because they're useful," He drawled. "Their desires are easy to understand, easy to provide for." Easy to control. I guess it came with the lifestyle of parties and drugs. To be honest, his willingness to promote that lifestyle despite his own dislike of it made me a bit uncomfortable.

"Regardless, if you can breathe here fine, then so can they." Silco finished, refocusing his eyes on the street in front of him. In another life, I would have looked at him begoggled. But here, that uncomfortable feeling disappearing, I only smirked. After all, in this life,

My lungs were strong.

We continued our march in silence. Well, as silent as you can get in the Undercity. Zaun, as some still whispered in the dark. Hearing that name for the first time was a shock. Especially after learning that I lived in the Undercity of Piltover.

The Twin cities, the Rune Wars, they all painted a picture of my new reality. But above all, what really sold the deal were the Yordles.

My mouth was open as I read a picture book, sitting on my father's lap. My chubby finger pointed accusingly at the drawing. A figure of blue skin and big ears, a short stature. "Daddy, what is that!"

He chuckled; a rare smile on his face, reserved only for me. "That, is a Yordle," he elaborated, "They are rare overall. But in this city….everything can be found, even them." My eyes weren't wide with amazement. It was shock.

Now that was more surprising than the soul stuff I admit. Much like before, I put aside the genuine insanity that was being reborn in a game world and focused on the present. Of all the fictional worlds to become real for me, it was fucking League of Legends.

I briefly considered if I died again what would happen. If my memories would follow me, and the chance of me landing in this world of all others. Would the Samsara gacha machine spit me out somewhere I actually knew?

You're Honor, I have been reincarnated into League of Legends.

CLACK

DEATH

That brief intrusive thought aside, I only knew things on a surface level. I had the barest knowledge of the lore. Whatever I would pick up through friends and osmosis: the Twin cities, the Ruined King, Ahri, Yordels, Jinx.

The last being the most pressing to me. From what I could recall, she was a Harley Quinn-esque manic terrorist. Generally causing chaos wherever she went. Who was also rivals with a pink-haired enforcer. And she was here, somewhere in Zaun.

Or at least, she will be.

Right now…there's only one city between the canal that separates the two continents. Piltover and the Undercity may be culturally distinct from each other, but the Undercity was still undoubtedly Piltover's. For now, if the dreamers and revolutionaries have their way. Which given my out-of-context knowledge, I was leaning towards yes.

I studied my father is the corner of my eye. A rustic clockwork watch on his left wrist. He didn't walk with swagger but with certainty. Arms at his side as he stood tall with purpose. I didn't know what to expect from him at first. He was clearly dangerous, but never to me. The few times I angered him I never feared he would hurt me, even if his reputation was well earned. He was a kingpin, or as they called it here, a Chem-Baron.

The Barons were a loose collection of drug lords, factory owners, and genuinely influential individuals. They controlled the darkest parts of the Undercity. And given that the Undercity was pretty rough overall, those areas were rough. But even then, they were kept in check by the Hound. Driven into the dark as they were, they could only exert so much influence. I didn't envy him. Vander kept a perilous peace between our makeshift society and the overwhelming power of Piltover. All the while managing the daily running of the Undercity as a sort-of unofficial leader.

Even if it was unstated, everyone understood who ran the Lanes.

Speaking of my "Uncle."

I turned to Silco as we prowled between the alleys, under neon lights and strung up lightbulbs. "Is it alright for you to be here? I know you wouldn't be if it wasn't," I gestured to our surroundings, "But aren't you worried about someone seeing you and running off to Vander?"

He scoffed, "And tell him what, that I'm on a walk?" Silco glanced at yet another drunk laying in the gutter. When I looked that way, I saw someone with sober eyes covered with a ratty grey cloak. A distinctive lip scar and brown skin, a man I've seen in my father's office on occasion.

"Like you said, I wouldn't be here if I wasn't sure," The crime boss finished. Especially not with you here. The obvious left unsaid.

We walked a small ways further up an incline. The quality of buildings and structures declining as we went along. We came to a destroyed building, steel rusted and wood rotted. A hole straight through, only two walls remained. Even the ceiling was gone. The building was placed at the peak of a cliff, its height leading to a chill in the air. Stepping inside to its wooden floor, glass crunched under my foot. I could see ripped files and paper strewn about the floor like leaves in Fall.

And on the other side of the building…was Zaun in all its glory.

Two of its three layers were visible. The whole of the Entresol with some parts of the Sump. Steel shafts and towers connected to the surface. To Zaun's upper reaches of the Promenade. Black and green were the prominent colors, interspliced with neon of every hue. A strange mix of steampunk and futurism. Factories belched smoke, the smog refracting light and causing the glow of the city to shine ever more brightly.

And the noise. Music and shouts on every corner. The footsteps of thousands of people, native or not. The ever-faithful Bluebirds preaching their truth. The Races that seemed pulled from a story book. Some with dark skin and glowing eyes, others with slimy skin and sharp teeth. I think I even saw a Yordle!

Deals of all kinds, legal or not, could be seen. Wares of all kinds were peddled. Friends sitting on stools together eating. A fist fight over stolen merchandise. A bullet in the head of a bound man. This was the heartbeat beneath the ground. It was as much as a wretched hive of scum and villainy as it was a sterling example of community.

I saw it as a representation of life.

I loved every part of it.

"This is what I wanted to show you." Silco began, eyes on the horizon, "You're trying to distract yourself from it, thinking in circles as you do."

Oh, I almost forgot. I killed someone today, didn't I?

I grimaced, "What even needs to be said. It was bound to happen eventually, right?" With him as a father, it was practically guaranteed.

He turned away from the city and to me. The green glow soft against the black of his eye. "You have always been smart for your age; you know what I'm going to say." The fire in his eye narrowed to a spark. "And yet, it still needs to be said."

There was a difference, killing a man in a fight for survival, and tying him up and offing him.

It was purposeful and direct. I did it because I wanted in on the family business. Beyond the paltry part I played before. What else would I do, open a bakery? I could live like that, could probably even die content. But after a lifetime of sitting still, of going through the motions, If I died that way would I be satisfied with it? No, I wanted more than that, I wanted to achieve much more than that. But I couldn't with a boot on my neck. It made the most sense to work with someone with the support base like him. But even still, it wasn't just my own self-interest.

Even if I didn't fully agree with him, I wanted to help my father.

Waiting until 12 before your first kill was privileged growing up in the Sump. In that respect, and in some others, my father spoiled me.

"What do you see?" He asked me with intent. I turned back to the city. He wasn't asking about just one thing. He wanted to know if I was in.

I answered him, the light of the city glittering in my eyes, "Looking at it like this…I just can't imagine it as an Undercity to Piltover." Growing up, of course I'd heard of the dream of Zaun and its failure. I continued, "There's just so much more to it than that."

"Maybe things could've been different in the past, but It's too late now. The gap between the two is too wide." I remarked, a feeling I couldn't place welling within me. "Even if the odds aren't in our favor, no matter how much they patrol our streets, I just don't believe what they say."

I stared at the dream, "I can't help but see Zaun."

Like always, Silco kept his face composed. But his eye…

His eyes burned with wildfire.

To be honest, it was hard not to sympathize from my perspective. I got an education that many here would never have. From both of my lives. There were many examples of economic disparity that I'd studied on Earth. It was a tale as old as time. People struggling against each other, all under different systems for different reasons. Even if I wasn't reborn here, I would have empathized. Some in Zaun had wealth, the Chem-Barons especially, but they weren't disgustingly Piltover rich.

I mean, another city above ground and across the river. Controlling us, acting like they gave a damn and were owed respect due to that.

Now that was some bullshit.

Silco stated his truth with blazing eyes, "Zaun isn't dead." He spoke passionately, swinging his left arm to the city. His eyes never leaving mine as he declared, "As long as that heart beats it will never die."

My old man wasn't some two-bit gangster, he was a revolutionary. In some respects, this is painting a bad image. The scarred face, the scowl and burning eye. He just needed a hairless cat to be a perfect Bond villain. In any other situation the man would scream untrustworthy.

But I swore to myself that I wouldn't let such tropes affect how I see reality. Not when this world was just as real to me as Earth was. He raised me by himself. I've heard the whispered commands, the looks others give him, of fear, respect, and hope. I've also seen the looks he gives me.

Maybe my expectations based on impossible knowledge are wrong. Zaun may never be born; Jinx won't show up. It didn't matter, I wanted to be free to live and die as I chose to.

I smiled, eyes crinkling, feeling the cold draw away from me as I grew more emotive. "It's like a like a cage we need to break out of, right?"

That's what this was, right? We were skipping the whole emotional comfort thing and getting to the nitty gritty.

Right?

My father's eye lightened to a controllable burn. He wrapped an arm around me, "That's right…" He spoke, letting the word linger. "And if we are to ever be free from this cage, we must do what is necessary. By any means."

"The nation of Zaun must be built brick by brick." He made sure to rest his head on mine, "A foundation to weather any storm"

He whispered to me, "What you did today…was just another brick."

In a strange way, I could understand the logic of how me killing a man was necessary for me to eventually become his right-hand. I ignored the fact that what was necessary for him, was probably absolutely anything short of hurting me.

I'm sure to many he was a monster. He'd string people up on hooks if it led to his dream being fulfilled. I'm sure I woluld disagree with him in the future. He was vicious, too ruthless by half.

And yet…

I wrapped my once limp arms around him, letting his warmth wash away the slight chill of the underground. Closing my eyes, I whispered, admitting my truth to the only father that I ever knew.

"I want to see it…that foundation." The bricks that would let me live free and unrestrained.

I couldn't help but love him anyway.

Chapter 1: Another Brick in the Wall

I though it would be amusing for Jinx to have another sibling whose initials start with Vi. I think I got everything right, but let me know if there's any formatting errors.

Vivek is supposed to be overdramatic and wordy. I'm trying to go for a bit of an unreliable narrator. But like I said, new to all this, so I'll balance it as I can.

This is more of an OC than straight up SI, some ideals are similar because they're easier for me to write about, but that's about it.

Chapter 2 is almost done. I intend for these first 2 chapters to introduce his thought process and show that his screws are looser than he thinks. Didn't plan to get so into this, but now I've written out plans. And I'm excited to get to them, so I guess I'm in it for the long run. Thanks for reading.

Sugar On my Tongue

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

I wanted this to be shorter. Why is this the same length as the previous chapter?

Every time I feel like there's too much detail, I look back and realize there's not enough.

This is where a bit more of that unreliability kicks in. Can you guess where?

I kicked my feet, humming to myself as I sat on the roof's edge. I stared out as the Sump layer woke up for another day.

Well, "waking up" was kind of relative for the Undercity. Although people generally followed the same 12-hour sleep cycle, after night fell topside, the city lit up. That could be said for any large enough city I suppose. But we were the most unique city in the world. Enclosed as we were, the only light that could reach us was that of our own making.

The enclosed space allowed the sound to echo in a way it just didn't in other places. The city didn't slow at night like others, it was one of the reasons why it was such a valuable marketplace. The trade in and out of the city just didn't stop. Markets could be just as active as they were at day. Apparently, this led to even the above-ground Promenade layer having a vibrant nightlife. Thankfully in response to all this, quality buildings were great at blocking out unwanted light and especially sound.

But that's enough of break-time, I've got a job to do.

I picked myself up. Groaning while I stretched and loosened my muscles. I reached my arms out as artificial light swallowed me whole. I dressed less conspicuous than before, Black shirt and brown slacks. Rubber shoes with my red handkerchief tied around my neck.

It's not like I wanted everyone to know my dad was mob boss, you know?

I grunted as I slung the backpack back on. It wasn't particularly heavy, but it held to me tightly. It was made that way for fast deliveries. And as for what I was delivering…

Well, it was drugs obviously.

We had a quota we liked to keep, and Jagger delayed things a bit on our regular dealings. Doing grunt work like this wasn't exactly what I expected after telling my dad that I was all-in on the "Zaun plan."

However, there was apparently a more important reason for this.

"I mean, I'll do it if you need. But don't you have enough runners?" I asked, curious of the logic.

Silco pulled out a paper from a leather file before responding, "It's not the supply itself, It's the routes." He traced a finger over the map, its picture showing jumbled shapes. "The Lanes are too vertical for completely accurate mapping. This will allow you to grow familiar with the routes without relying on it."

He steepled his fingers, "you need to memorize such things. Don't rely on anything physical that Piltover can track back to and use against you. Periodically, I'll send you on such jobs to familiarize yourself."

My father had the barest hint of a smile. A slight twitch of the check. His severe face made it seem more like a smirk.

"Besides, you've always enjoyed running."

The logic made sense. I guess one must learn such things when planning a revolution after all.

And so, I took off on my job. There was a reason they called it drug running.

I started my run, picking up speed. I pumped my arms, and as I reached the building's edge,

I jumped.

Arms pointed behind me in the air, the less wind resistance the better. I landed in a roll on the adjacent building before I sprang up. I made sure not to put too much energy into moving my arms as I ran. I took slow deep breaths through my nose. In and out, trying to keep a steady rhythm.

Jumping off again, I kicked a wall like a reverse wall jump as I descended a layer. I crashed into a metal ladder, stinging my palms with the force. Sliding down I continued my free running.

From there I fell into the rhythm of the city.

Roll.

Run.

Leap.

Kick off from something.

Pick up the payment, place the product in the hidden drop box, continue along.

No payment, no product.

On and on it went until I was done in that section and landed in the back alleys. They were a cramped maze of stores and entrances. The foot traffic was sparse compared to some of the "main" streets. If you weren't careful, you could run afoul the wrong person.

I wasn't worried about that though. I probably had someone following me on my dad's orders.

After calming down from my rush I walked a bit to my next destination. A cute little store that stood out amidst the black metal of its surroundings. A wooden door and framing hugging the metal, with glass showing confections of all kinds. Neon light displaying the stereotypical title of 'Grandma's Bakery.' That was the point, it made the store stand out in comparison to its surroundings.

This was the other half of my job. Face-to-face meetings with those that could be trusted with it. I opened the door. There was a pleasant smell from the chem-fire melting chocolate. No employee to be seen. But in the corner of the store sat a large hound by the display cases. He sat on a small pillow, dark fur with old scars nicking into him. An iron jaw instead of flesh met his muzzle, thick, but just light enough to support his head. And a little pink ribbon on his neck.

"Hi, Princess!" I exclaimed happily, bending down with my hands on my knees. The large guard dog ruffed and waddled to my side. "D'aww, hey there buddy…" I scratched behind his ears, waiting for his owner to appear.

This was always one of my favorite places to visit even off the job. And it wasn't just the good company of Princess and Grandma Gutsy. I refused to ever take in the filth in my backpack. I knew what addiction could do to a person. The depths to which they could sink. You gave it an inch; it took a mile. It would stain you like ink on the skin. I swore to both my father and me, I would never touch this "product." No matter the substance I couldn't stand the idea of losing control of myself.

And yet I willingly facilitated its trade.

The voice grabbed me from my thoughts. "Oh! You're delivering, little Vek?" Grandma Gutsy noticed, a positive lift in her voice. She appeared out from a backroom.

I stood up from my petting session, "Hi Grandma!" A bright smile on my face. She walked to the counter with a brown bag in one hand and an envelope in the other.

She looked like what you would expect from an old lady. She had a little plump from old age, big glasses...except she was tatted from head to toe. Only a bit on her face could her skin's natural color be seen in full. All kinds of symbols and images lining her body. It was strange, even with her tats she seemed like the kindest person. I couldn't see her using. Maybe she bought it for herself, or maybe it was for other people. It didn't matter, I frankly didn't want to know.

Gutsy, or Grandma as she preferred, was always kind to me.

"I hope you didn't wait long, dear. I was starting the chem-furnace for today." She remarked happily, "the technology is quite new, so it takes time for my old hands to get used to it." Chem-tech. From what I understand, was a type of technology that was fueled by unsanctioned chemicals. With a little ingenuity, it could be used in any number of ways. Grandma for instance used a chem-furnace when baking. Much like grilling, the chem-fire would give it a unique taste you couldn't get authentically any other way.

It didn't have to be addicting either. Chemicals counted for a lot of things, it just depended on the process of what's in it. Silco's regular shots to the eye could be considered chem-tech, being a type of stabilizing agent.

The batch of goodies I usually got from her weren't addicting at least. She wouldn't do that to me.

"Oh, but you're taking jobs now!" She started with a warm smile on her lips, a nostalgic look in her eyes. Old Gutsy rested her arms on the counter. "I remember that you would come to me whenever your father would cut you off from sweets."

I answered that easily, "Grandma, I still do that." Even I had my vices. And that was without a doubt sugar. I tried to get my hands on every new sweet I could find. We had no local sugar farms, so we relied on trade for such things. It wasn't as prevalent as I would expect from a city this big. But where it was, it shined all the brighter. Green Undercity ice cream was to die for. I didn't think sour ice cream could be good until then. I found the usual suspects of chocolate chip cookies and cakes. Even some new ones like Bandle honeycombs.

But there was one item that was hidden from me.

They had sugar cookies here…but not frosted sugar cookies.

I loved those things. I tried to make them myself, but it just wasn't the same as a good ole fashioned store-bought bunch. There was something I was missing.

She laughed at that. Her voice was still soft, even from years of use. "Oh, don't I know it, darling," she remarked. "Speaking of!" She reached her hands out, "Payment, and a tip just for you!"

I grabbed the envelope first, checking if it had the right amount of silver cogs. Which, of course, it did. I knew it did, I trusted Gutsy. But you always made sure in the Undercity. With practiced ease I deposited the payment into the right compartment of my backpack. Next, I checked my "tip."

Warm, dark chocolate baked cookies with Undercity green sprinkles. I couldn't help the shine in my eyes, "Wow! Thanks Grandma!" I also couldn't help but play up the child-like innocence. I knew she liked doting on kids when she could after all. I didn't bother with anything else as I took a bite of one. I felt the chocolate on my tongue…

And the innocence immediately left my eyes.

It's warm, I thought.

This wasn't premade and reheated.

I smelled fresh chocolate when I came in.

But most importantly, I could taste that sweet, sweet chem-stained taste.

It takes her time to make a single batch.

She only had one chem-furnace I knew that for sure, I helped her install it.

Even if she did reheat it…

I let the tension leave me as I exited my thoughts. I chewed some more before swallowing, the smooth warmth sliding down my throat. I quirked an eyebrow at her mischievous smile. "Knew I was coming by, huh?" I deadpanned at her.

"Of course! You're father made sure I knew you would be coming by the area more often." Her smile never left her face since her first time seeing me.

I finished my cookie as I answered that, "Well I guess it's not that surprising, I thought something like this would happen." I mumbled aloud, "But why act differently?"

She shook her head stating, "tut-tut, my dear. To check your awareness, of course. What if someone tried to poison you? My poor heart couldn't bear it! I would have to sic Princess on them!" Said Princess just rolled onto his back in the middle of the floor, apparently done with trying to get my attention. He had several scars on his stomach where the skin seemed thinner. His tongue lolled out. His mechanical jaw opened lazily; I could see where the bolts met the flesh.

I snorted as I stared down at him. "I think I can take care of myself, but thanks Grandma." My finger tapped on my thigh, "Although, I think dad would get to them before you." I can't say I was put off by the slight deception. It was strange, but she was trying to help me. It was just one of the ways things were done down here.

She smiled softly, reaching over to place a hand on my head. "I know you can…it's just an old habit is all. In fact, your father once said the same thing when he was younger." Now that surprised me. I mean it shouldn't have, but it was strange to think of him as a boy.

I couldn't help myself, "Really? Sometimes I like to think he just spawned out of the chemical ooze as a man grown." I've only ever seen him with his dark eye after all.

She laughed loudly at that, "Ha! Believe it or not, he once was a free runner just like you. He used to get into trouble with all sorts, gangs, his rivals, enforcers. He and-" She hesitated for half a second, "his friends would run and jump all over this city, spitting at the world all the while." Silco running around? I mean maybe he could if he had to. It was just strange to imagine him with the frantic energy that came from running.

I glanced at the clock, time to go. I smiled as I grabbed the hand on my head, squeezing it softly as an acknowledgement of our connection. "Maybe I'll ask him about it sometime. Sorry to cut and run Granny, but I gotta make my deliveries by a certain time."

She sighed and smiled at me knowingly, "I'm happy to see you out more. You're your father's son, I'm sure you'll be alright."

"I'll do my best!" I gave the two my goodbyes, Princess not even waking up as I left the shop, waving.

Gutsy's eyes never left my back.

I was getting to my last few deliveries. I was still in the boxed in alleyways, but I was closer to residential buildings. I jogged here and there at my drop offs. I'd see the occasional trash littered on the ground, the odd bottle, puke, bloodstains. The usual.

I made it to the drop box, halfway down the alley. This one was hidden under some rubble that was strewn about the place, and a fire escape ladder placed high up a wall at the end of it all. The paths between buildings were tight in this direction. Swiftly, I placed the product after picking up the payment.

Now, I Just had to switch this shut and- "Hey brat."

What the fuck! Where did he come from!?

I snapped around behind me. He looked like a teenager. Maybe a bit older than me, 14 or 15 at most. Rail-thin and tall, greasy brown hair stuck to his head. The typical clothes you'd expect from a gutter rat. Pale, but not like me or Silco, he looked sick. There were deep red scratch marks going down his arms.

His veins must've itched. This kid's an addict.

Must've been needing his next fix, way his wide eyes were looking at me.

I stood my ground. "Where the fuck did you come from?" I asked with my squeaky 12-year-old voice, arms tensed at my side, I was pretty sure he didn't follow me, I think I would've heard the footsteps.

He scoffed, "I live here," glancing at a certain pile of rubble to his right. There was a sewer drain hidden by the rubble. Just barely big enough for him to crawl out. How did I miss that!

Okay, to be fair, everything here is colored a type of black, so it blends right in. And there's not a lot of visibility in the first place. But still.

"No shit, I can smell you from here," I raised my chin slightly, doing my best to look down on him.

He snarled at me, hunching forward. "Cut the shit! I saw what you just did, brat. You're running the good shit, aren't you?"

"None of your business," I said tightly, my eyes narrowed.

He asked me desperately, a hand clutching at his chest. "You got any beaty? Any Pulse?"

I thought for a moment, eyes glancing around the alley. "I have no idea what I'm dropping, and I wouldn't even be able to identify it either." I didn't want to know.

He took a harsh step forward. The sound echoing, my own pulse staring to race. He asked me, "I can tell you, c'mon just let me take a look…"

Another step. I clenched my teeth as I started to hunch slightly, getting ready for whatever came next.

He's taller than me. I could use my size to my advantage. But even still, I don't have that much power in my hits.

"You don't wanna do this! I work for SILCO you idiot!" I exclaimed. He got closer to me. I could see his veins beating in his skin. He responded to that, jerking as he leaned down.

"I have no idea who that is, and I don't care." The sewer stink burned at my nostrils as he came closer.

Well, I tried. I guess it's fair for some random addict kid to not know of him. An addict wouldn't directly know of the Baron that sold him his pick of poison. I still wasn't even sure if Silco ever appeared in canon League lore. Maybe he did, but I never heard of a champion by that name.

"Well let me tell you, you'll know exactly who he is if you do this. He'll chop you up and sink you in the river." My body was ready to bolt. My foot began to tap inadvertently. Let that work…

He stopped in front of me, looking down with wide eyes, "I really don't give a shit right now," he said softly. His jaw was chattering slightly. He didn't care about some far-off death, he was in too much pain, he needed his hit.

Fuck, no talking then.

Fight or Flee?

Can I take him?

He's not thinking straight, but that could be even more dangerous.

His legs are longer, he'll catch up to me.

He's tall, can't just jump up and punch him. But he's blocking my only exit, he can grab me. He might have a knife, or worse.

That sewer drain is his territory, he'll know it better than me. A risk I might have to take.

The windows around me are bolted, not enough time to get through.

There's a ladder behind me. I have to try.

He's right in front of me, I need to catch him off guard. Adrenaline races through my veins, my heart pounds in preparation. I take a shaky breath letting out all the anxious energy.

"Just drop the bag, and there won't be no trouble." He murmured, his hand reaching above my head. Eyes focused solely on the bag. Dad gave me this job. Unacceptable. I would if I had too…but I think I can do this. I'm finishing this job and eating my god damn cookies. Only one chance.

I cut in, one hand on my hip, "tsk-tsk, stealing cookies from a little boy?" I jerked my head to the left, tilting it down, people always hated it when I did this. I smiled as wide as I could, making sure it didn't reach my eyes, "that is very not based of you, mister."

He blinked, seemingly brought back to reality by the absurdity of that statement. He asked, as his face scrunched up in confusion, "…What? Based on wha-"

My fist slammed into his nuts.

Air was forced out of his lungs; he gasped as he folded in on himself. I took my chance.

My feed pounded on the concrete, the wind was on my skin, I ran.

"GAH, you fucking brat!" He screeched. He was crouched down before roughly pushing himself up. "I'll KILL YOU."

He wasn't far behind me. I'm sure that still hurt, but he recovered quickly.

I needed to make it to the ladder. I needed more time.

SMACK

I could hear the slaps of his shoes as he screamed at me.

Without looking back, I fondled the side pouch of the bookbag before I found what could give me more time.

My secret weapon.

A sock.

With a big fucking rock in it.

SMACK

He was close enough now.

I spun on the heel of one foot. Swinging my makeshift club with both of my hands. I swung up with all the kinetic energy I could.

It slammed into his chin with a THUNK sound. The jaw split open slightly. He grunted stumbling into a wall, one hand bracing himself on it, the other over his jaw.

While I tripped and fell. I put too much of my own weight into that.

I wanted to knock this fucker out! He pushed himself off the wall. Pupils narrow to an unhealthy degree. He screamed as he rushed at me. Are his nerves deadened or something?!

I can't fight him, can't get by, so there's only one thing to do. I pushed myself forward and off the ground. Doing my best to keep my breathing steady as I ran to the ladder, his certainly wasn't.

The ladder that was placed too tall for me to reach. Too tall for me to run up the wall. There was nothing nearby for me to stand on.

But I could do this.

I saw something once. A video of someone who practiced parkour back on Earth. He jumped off one wall giving himself a boost, and then he jumped off a second wall right next to it. I used to watch so many videos of its like. I've been jumping around all day. If I can do that perfectly…then I can get away. In my old body, only in my dreams could I pull something like that off. But here, in this world, that dream was a possibility.

I could hear him behind me. There were two adjacent walls close enough to the ladder.

I ran and then I jumped.

My left foot landed solidly on the wall. The rubber creased as if it ate a lemon.

I pushed off the wall.

My right foot hit the other wall. I pushed.

One hand grabbed the ladder. I swung like a playground swing as I pulled myself up. Two hands now grabbing it. I reached above me,

I can do this!

And then the junkie jumped up and grabbed my leg. The weight naturally pulled me off the ladder. I fell, watching all the while as the distance between me and the dream I couldn't reach continued to grow.

I landed hard. Grunting as I hit the ground like a hammer. Wheezing as I tried to breath. He wrapped his arms around me, picking me up and lurching to the side, harshly slamming me again into the ground. One strap was off my shoulder. He took advantage of this, grabbing the bookbag and ripping it off of me. I could only show a paltry defense in comparison to his stronger arms.

I laid there for a second trying to catch my breath, watching as he wildly tore through the backpack. "Where the fuck is it!?" He shouted, desperately searching. It was sad, really. A little bit older than me…and reduced to this. He ripped open my paper bag full of cookies.

Realistically, I should run. He'll rifle through everything and if I didn't have any of this "beaty" his next leap of logic would be to check the drop box. I would have more than enough time to flee. I know it's the smartest decision. I know Silco would much prefer lost profits than me getting hurt for a job. He would never want that.

But what do I want?

I want to be free. Not just in the running around doing flips kind of way. No regrets, I wanted to look back on my deathbed and say, 'yeah, I did pretty good.' I wanted to be satisfied with my life. What am I even afraid of, death? Didn't I already say that lack of control over my fate scared me more. Can death be called a lack of control?

It felt like the world was moving in slow motion. I watched as spittle flew out of his mouth from the force of his rampaging. I mean really, what was the difference between him and Piltover? Right now, I just wanted to drop off drugs and eat my cookies. But what about after?

I wanted to do something so bad, and yet he looked me straight in the eyes and told me, 'no, you can't.'

This piece of shit….

There was no difference. Just like Piltover. Just like on Earth. Silco would be angry, but how the hell can I build Zaun if I can't even knock one druggie on his ass?

I have to fight. I need to fight. None of this will be worth it otherwise.

The world snapped back into motion. He was crouched over, looking through my bag. The Pulse addict wasn't focused on me at all, the delectable sweets had his full attention. I carefully got up, ignoring the pain on my side. I didn't rage, my emotions were dull. I had nothing but sheer focus.

I leaped at him.

My arms wrapped around his throat, legs coiling around his torso. I don't think I could completely choke him out, but I could scare him.

"What the fuck?!" He shouted, dropping the bag. I furiously scratched at his face as hard as I could while still holding on. Drawing my claws through his flesh, I nicked an eye. He screamed.

"AHHH!" He thrashed, backing up sharply into the wall. An attempt to get me off. I crashed against it, his full weight squeezing me against the wall. Air was once again forcefully expelled from my lungs. A pathetic sound left my throat because of it. Thankfully, he was too skinny to do any more damage than just a bruise.

But I didn't let go.

I bit into his left ear to hold on, teeth clenching down as hard as I could. Fun fact, blood vessels were denser in the head. And ears had thin skin. That meant that right after my sharp teeth punctured the skin, warm blood shot into my mouth. It was putrid. But I didn't let go. He continued to scream, trying to grab at my head and throw me off.

The effect of his violent movements was him tripping over his own feet and falling face first. My arms taking a bit of the brunt. I took that chance to let go of his ear and slam my fist into his temple. He folded over trying to get into a fetal position. I switched to his front, crashing my fist into his nose. His head cracked back against the pavement. I swung down again, a cheek. A guttural sound leaving me as I rasped to breathe

I swung again.

Again

Again.

And the I stopped. My fist raised above him. Red scratches across his face matching the ones on his arms. His right eye was half-closed and blood shot. A red waterfall flowing from his ear down his face meeting the wound on his chin. He was terrified, there were tears in his eyes. He didn't care about some far-off death, but when it was right in front of him.

That more than anything stood out to me. Jagger didn't cry when I killed him, at least I didn't give the chance to. The addict didn't say anything, he just hiccupped at me, eyes wide with fear. With my mouth slightly open, breathing deep, I couldn't help but study him in confusion.

He really did look pathetic like this. Just a couple years older than me, huh? I didn't know his story, his choices. But he was so young. He would probably die in a gutter with a needle in his arm. Far as I knew, he could've got his drugs from Silco's enterprise. My dad could indirectly kill this kid. I could kill this kid…

I was doing it again, just like when I killed that man a couple days ago. I didn't want to think about the consequences of my actions. People would suffer because of me; I obviously knew that. But seeing him cry in-front of me, because of me, I can't help but feel bad.

But as I sat on top of him, accomplishing what I set out to do, could I really say I regret it?

I don't think I did.

I jumped off him, the sudden motion making him flinch. "What's your name?" I asked him, "I'm tired of calling you kid or the addict in my head." Cocking my head as I stared at him, the kid-fuck-looked up at me, put off by the sudden change in situation.

He shakily responded, scooting back on the ground, "W-what? Z-Zeke, my name's Zeke…"

I guess the weight of what I was doing didn't hit me until I saw it right in-person. Wasn't he a youth of Zaun like the rest of us? Would me assisting Silco lead to more of this? I knew it would. But I also knew that everything he did was for a reason. I needed more information. I wanted to understand the purpose of this. I could guess a bit, the drug trade brought in a lot of money, got people reliant, expanded networks. I needed to talk to Silco, he would help me understand, he always did.

I sighed rolling my head, "Alright Zeke, get out of here." Zeke looked up at me in shock. "W-what, you're letting me go?" He asked me with a warbly tone, half-delirious from the blood loss.

"I'm not letting you do anything," I glared down at him, "I'm telling you to go." I pointed my finger at his face. "But don't tell anyone about the drop box, or that you saw me, yeah? If you try, I'll take your fingers and your tongue, you don't need those to live." I finished with menace in my voice. I wouldn't do that of course, that was awful. But with his blood smeared across my face, he didn't know that for sure.

I often forgot how to 'act my age,' and sometimes I didn't even bother with it. It was easier before I was fully aware of myself. I'd yet to fully hit my growth spurt, so it led to situations where I came off as creepier than I intended. In this case, that's exactly what I was going for.

The point coming across clear, he shook his head rapidly, a bit of blood sent flying in the process. "I won't! I saw nothing!" Zeke left it at that as he rapidly pushed himself up and stumbled his way to his sewer drain. Not giving me a chance to reconsider. Honestly, what's the worst he could do? I was just another street rat working for a Chem-Baron. The drop box? It could be moved easily enough. If need be, I'm sure Silco wouldn't begrudge the minuscule drop in profit. Not from me at least.

I sighed, watching as he went along. Bits of his blood falling to the concrete, new stains to match the rest like a patchwork. A tapestry of the Undercity's struggle.

And honestly, I grimaced as I thought, If I don't see a reason to, then why should I kill him?

He wasn't a brick, after all.

Things would be different if he were.

It was why I didn't have a gun on me. I didn't want to kill if I didn't have to. I didn't want to be tempted. I liked seeing the stories of people, to end it so carelessly for no purpose was just so sad.

I wasted enough time; I was determined to finish this job. Picking up my bag and walking down the alley, my brown paper bag crinkled as I dug out a cookie. Thankfully unharmed from Zeke's brutish grip. I took a bite, the sugar overpowering the disgusting aftertaste of copper on my lips.

I should save one for Silco.

Pretty sure he didn't care about sweets, but it was the thought that counts. I hoped if I ever saw Zeke again he would be on the right path. Or at least, a bit better than before.

Unfortunately, that would be the last I would ever see of him.

Chapter 2: Sugar on My Tongue

I originally wanted Vivek to be more outwardly crazy when Zeke was going through the bag. But, I didn't want him coming off as Jinx 2.0 or something like that. I want him to be a different brand of crazy so he can bounce off her own. Self-gaslighting and all that.

I was messing around with some formatting stuff for that section, but now I'm excited to try it out whenever we get to Jinx.

Thanks for reading!

Chapter End Notes

I would soon learn that, most of the time, my chapters wouldn't be shorter.

Home is You

I would have had this out yesterday, but I just got a new kitten recently and she demands all my attention.

Music was a big part of Arcane and setting the mood. That's why I'm trying to choose music that fits the scene. Also why all the chapters have been named after song titles. Might change that up if its too restricting, but I'm not too worried, its a fun challenge and there's a lot of songs out there.

I think keeping it to one song per chapter would work best for now. Maybe I'll add more if it fits, or if a chapter balloons in size. Which is always a possibility.

I didn't have a typical home.

Growing up, what counted as a home for me was wherever Silco's power base was the strongest. Wherever he thought I would be safer. When I was younger, I would often be placed in safe houses whilst he did his business elsewhere. Only his most "trusted" subordinates would watch over me. Trust was a complicated subject for the man. He spoke of loyalty, he truthfully believed in that loyalty. But that story he would tell me, of his baptism in the river. It never really left him. It was like he couldn't bring himself to trust anyone completely.

All except his family of course.

When it came to me…it was like those wires were reattached. He wouldn't start to involve me in his plans if he didn't trust me. Of that I was sure of. His death and rebirth molded him into who he was today. Even without our biological connection, I felt a kinship. My own followed me still.

That's to say, I didn't exactly have a white picket fence and a lawn waiting for me. Home was where the revolution was. It was important for me to remember that. I wasn't part of a mob family, everything we did had a purpose.

I drew closer to my current home. An abandoned warehouse in the Promenade. There was always a lot of abandoned everything around the Undercity, for one reason or another. This particular part of the top layer was a bit away from the 'main' traffic of the city. The buildings here were different from those underground, only having two three or floors at most. The style was reminiscent of a type of German architecture to my eyes. Dark wood carved onto stone.

I could only assume it was because this was an older part of the city, being built on the top layer as it was. They were more concerned with building 'up' then out underground. Space being the commodity that it was.

The city's lights shined like a lighthouse behind me. It toward over everything like a beacon, attracting all the lost and alone into its pull.

But that light could hardly reach here.

Only the most necessary of light was placed in this area. It was like a perpetual dusk. You didn't want to be caught here at night. And it was night here all the time. Thugs could be seen in the shadows. A scarred man leaning in an alley. A woman playing cards against a group of four. The silhouettes of a few free runners could be spotted perching on buildings. I could feel all their eyes on me in the darkness. Searching for any sign of weakness.

They welcomed me like the prodigal son I was.

These were Silco's men. A few I even recognized. They wouldn't be allowed so close to the warehouse overwise. I approached the entrance, an iron side door with no security to be seen. I steeled myself, grabbing the door handle. I threw it open with a grunt of effort. Its purposeful rusty squeak alerting the others.

And then I was home.

I blinked a bit of the spots out of my eyes. The hanging lanterns in contrast to the dark outside. There was a buzz of movement as people went about their tasks. I didn't know everyone personally, but I could make out some faces. There was Jeryk carrying a crate, Rico heading to the office, Seera sharpening blades.

Chubs was doing something with a bunch of paper. I called him that on account of him being rail-thin, looking like a stickman with skin painted over.

Slim Jim was hammering on an anvil, nose piercing reflecting the sparks. I called him that on account of him being the biggest man I've ever seen, looking like he could crush a brick like an egg.

Then there was Licky who…actually fit his nickname.

There were murmurs and greetings as I walked through.

"Vivek."

"Vek!"

A nod here

"Check if you were followed, V?"

"Stick an enforcer for me, yeah, Vi?

A slapped back

"The boss is in the bottom office if yer' lookin'."

"Still alive, little prince?"

That last moniker…there was an implication there. Some said it as a joke. But to some it was an admission of loyalty. As easy as it would be to expect all of Silco's followers to be gang members looking for power, or just a person working under fear, it wasn't that simple. There were a number of reasons for them to be here, and sure some were like that. But some here believed in it genuinely. They put their faith in him, the devil that could get results. They were saying: Silco will win, and when he does, he'll be on top.

There weren't many children around here. I was the youngest by far. I think for some, it was a reminder of the potential future they could have. If Silco was the brain of the revolution, then I liked to think of myself as the heart.

I danced around the movement in the warehouse, used to it as I was. I slid behind Licky, carefully picking his pocket of his gear pouch. There weren't a lot of silver cogs in there, but enough to make some noise. Walking backwards, I jingled the coins. Immediately several hands went to their waists. "Careless as always, Licky!" I said with a bright smile on my face, not having to look backwards in the slightest. This place had been my home for longer than any other.

"That's not my name you little shit!"

Scoffing, I threw him back his pouch. I turned around and made my way to the bottom office.

There was one familiar face left I had to see.

I opened the doors to the bottom office. I normally would meet Silco in the top office, the bottom one reserved for his more shady dealings. But I was slowly being brought into the fold, so I was seeing it more often.

Blue.

That was the first thought that came to my head. It was different from the neon hue you could experience in the city. This was a deep blue that encompassed everything. It was rare I went topside, so I didn't always get to see as vibrant of a color that wasn't green. When I was younger, I would just stare at it for hours…

Silco was leaning back in his chair preparing for his regular eye injection. I could only imagine what is was like for chemicals to burn your face like that. "Need some help?" I asked him, making my presence known.

"It would be appreciated." He answered. Silco placed the injector on the table, hands grabbing at the arms of his chair in preparation. I walked around the table and grabbed it casually. I didn't know the specifics, but the injections were necessary to both keep the pain manageable and to keep it from getting worse. I placed it over the eye, bracing one hand on his head. He made sure to keep his pupil still, staring right at the needle.

"Don't sneeze." I said with a careful grip, feeling the cool metal in my hand.

SNAP

He grunted, hands tensing the chair. I stepped back placing the injector on the table, watching as he let out a breath. I sat in the chair across Silco's desk as he composed himself. "So...there's something I wanna talk to you about." I began cautiously, placing my tip from Grandma Gutsy on the table, a single cookie left inside. "Why drugs in particular? I know we have other sources of income, but that's our main one, right?" I cut right to the heart of the matter. It was why I was here after all.

I looked at him, chewing the inside of my cheek. "Is it…just the money and control it brings?"

The Baron was recovered from his injection. He stared at me for a moment, the light in the room briefly being shadowed by a passing monster. "That, is a part of the reason why the drug trade is so vital to our cause. But there is another reason we continue to invest in it." His cheek twitched slightly, as if he was debating something. "Come with me."

I blinked, following him as he got up from his chair. We walked a bit, the light darkening as we moved away from the window of blue. The sound of our footsteps echoing, before we reached a side room.

A laboratory.

There were vials and needles scattered about. Somehow in a state of controlled chaos. A bit of dried blood could be seen on some tools. There were tubes containing something in various shades of purple. A glow like stars twinkled within it. Given the context, this had to be a drug of some kind. Maybe something to do with chem-tech?

"Shimmer, this is what we are preparing for. What will even the odds…" Silco stated this, the purple light caressing his face like a lover.

"A drug will?" I couldn't help but ask hesitantly.

"It's more than just a drug, it's a performance enhancer the likes of which has never been seen. It can transform the body, serve as a vital fuel for chem-tech allowing it to be used in numerous new ways. It will be spread to all of the Undercity. This…is the first step in establishing the nation of Zaun." He spoke clinically, like a doctor stating in no uncertain terms what would happen.

I stared at him wide eyed. He wanted to make this drug the cornerstone of our society. Come to think of it, when I thought of Zaun from League lore the first thing that came to mind was 'chem-punk.' But here, chem-tech was only a generation or two old, only just now picking up speed. If Silco was sure of its use as fuel…just what kind of technology could we produce with it? Even if other sources of technology remained important, chem-tech would serve as a true cultural accomplishment of Zaun.

"It's addictive?" I had to ask, to be sure. I didn't want to be willfully ignorant anymore. I had to understand the cost.

He looked me straight in the eyes. "This first version, yes." He answered with not a hint of hesitation in his voice.

I swallowed, I understood immediately where he was going with this.

"We would be the sole supplier. Even if that changes in the future, we would at least be a major producer. You want to flood this drug into the Lanes. Promote the use of new chem-tech. Get everyone-everything-hooked on Shimmer." I laid it out with astonishment in my voice.

"We would be the only supplier, all of Zaun would rely on us. From there, we set the stage." My father finished for me. This was mad genius. If everything worked as he planned…I think it could work. This world, this city, it wasn't Earth. Things had a different sense of logic here. They had to in a world with so many fantastical things. In the Undercity, just as it was wide it was dense, It would spread fast. And in a city where drugs literally powered everything, Silco would be its number one supplier.

I didn't know if this alone would be enough to fight off Piltover. But like he said, this was just setting the stage. We would become even less reliant on the topsiders than we already were. And yet…I also understood what it would cost.

"This…is evil." I stated with certainty, my vision drowning in Shimmer, my fingers beginning to twitch. My posture was tense as my thoughts raced. I couldn't help but think of the kids like Zeke who might fall into this.

"It is." The kingpin agreed resolutely, hands folded behind his back, one grabbing the wrist of the other.

There was on more question to ask. "Have you tested it on someone yet?"

"There is a volunteer ready." He said with his face impassive, the light of his eye seeming to gain a spark. I guess it made sense. There would be no spare of Zaunites who could be persuaded for the cause.

I shook my head, glancing around the laboratory. I felt like I was drowning in that water outside. "We're going to hurt a lot of people."

"We will." He nodded. He always talked about plans using those terms. And I followed in response. We, us, our. It was the understanding that we were in this together, that I would inherit his kingdom. If nothing else, I don't think he's ever lied to me.

This was going to happen with or without me. What mattered was if I was okay with it.

Of course I wasn't.

But has anything else worked before? I know I shouldn't rely on lore from Earth to presumably come true. But when I thought of that Zaun from canon, it was free

Was this what led to it?

When I stood on top of Zeke's bloodied form, I was sad, but I won. I fled and I started to lose; I fought, and I won. Could I stand over hundreds like Zeke?

"I know…that I haven't seen the same things you have," I began, wanting him to understand my inner conflict. "But…is this really the only way to fight? Is us doing all of this the only way to gain independence?" I was far away from the last failed uprising. I only heard the sorrow that echoed through the city. The cursed mutters, the anger, the broken spirits, their hopelessness. It was a sad song to hear...

Silco looked at me. I knew he wouldn't be nearly as kind to anyone else asking, but I was his son. I was afforded these luxuries. The lines on his face relaxing, he began softly, "I have looked for an answer all my life. Even this may not be enough, but we will only win if we are united. But the leaches and the weak will not join us without a firm hand to guide them. At the very least, this will give us the time to consolidate our power."

The kingpin, my father, reached out his hand. "Are you with me…are you willing to fight?" There was an expectation in his gaze, a want-no-a need for my answer. His eyes were wide, not of fear or desperation. I wasn't sure what it was, but I understood the importance of my answer.

If I said no, he would be disappointed, but that would be it. At most maybe he'd try again when I was older. But I'd always heard so many stories about him and Vander. Was it something like this that led to Vander's betrayal? Did he think the price of freedom was too steep?

But what if it was the only way

What if…

What if.

I can't worry about the what if. I just have to live my life. And at the end of that life if Zaun still wasn't free? I would regret it. This wasn't some far-off place for me, it was my home. I ran through its streets, met the people born from it. Hell, I was reborn here myself. It was my home. Its story was weakened by the shackles that bound it. I already said I was in, didn't I? If the cost was a bit of my sadness from a cruel method…

Then Shimmer was the mortar that held the bricks together.

I grabbed his hand, letting him pull me into his chest. My father's arms wrapped around me. "…I'm with you. Even if I don't like it, if it's the lesser evil…I'll do it." I whispered to him. It felt like a repeat of that night not so long ago when we stared at Zaun.

"And that is your strength. Young as you are, you see what others refuse to. What is necessary for change." I couldn't see his eyes, but my own began to sting at the acknowledgement, the unconditional love. "I couldn't be prouder." He whispered to me, his tone low in the dim of the purple light. That more than anything is why he won my personal loyalty. To hell with how he treats others, how he treated me was more important.

If nothing else, at least I wouldn't spend eternity in hell alone.

"I'm sorry..." I started, "That I can't help but feel bad about it…" It was a twisted thing for me to say. With what warped logic should you have to apologize for feeling guilty for doing terrible things. But caught up with emotion as I was, product of childish hormones or not, I allowed myself this bit of childishness.

I needed to try and remember everything I could about Zaun. Anything that we might use to our advantage. If Silco thought even this might not be enough, then I had a responsibility to see just how far we could go.

My father combed his fingers through my hair. "Don't apologize…"

"You're perfect just as you are."

Silco stared at the door his son left from. An empty paper bag in front of him.

A large dozen in a bag…and he only saved me one. He thought to himself in amusement. He's come a long way from reciting poetry to overgrown rats.

"Ah...children are always so precocious at that age." A voice said to his right. Silco rolled his eyes toward the man stepping out of the shadows. The blue light reflecting off his thinning hair. The Good Doctor was a worthy investment.

Silco had heard of him before of course. But it was after learning of the part he played in Noxus' Ionian campaign did he realize his usefulness. "Did you speak true, is a subject ready?" The Doctor asked him.

"I do. And you? It's in a stable enough form?" Silco asked gravely, leaning his head on his steepled fingers.

The Docter scoffed, "It is not my masterpiece, but it is perfection none the less." He answered, a hint of excitement in his voice. "From here, many new variants can be made, the possibilities are endless."

Silco nodded, before raising his voice. "Rico, you are sure?" He asked, another man answering his call, stepping from the shadows. The room was designed with that in mind after all. Rico was a tall man with dark skin, a piercing on his lip. Long dreads tied into a tail and ends tipped blond. His chosen clothes were tight on his body. As expected of the seasoned runner that Vivek had taken over for.

"I made sure of it, sir." Rico said in a gravelly voice, a story told by the scar on his throat. "I had my spare follow him into the sewers before confirming it myself." He said this with a cold look on his face, not a hint of emotion.

Silco raised his head, "Then bring him." He ordered, the fire beginning to spark in his eye. Rico swiftly left to bring down the subject. The Doctor retreated back into the shadows to watch with intrigued fascination. Soon after, Rico reentered the room with another person in tow before moving back. A teenager to be precise.

Red fell down his arms, with fresher marks across his face. Dark bruises marred the rest. An eye was half-open and bloodshot. Scabs could be seen beginning to form over the wound on his chin. The ones on his ear would most likely scar. Zeke looked worse after his meeting with Vivek than he did before.

Slco smiled.

Zeke was pushed to his knees, too weak and in withdrawals to stand up. "Please…I-I didn't know who you were or-or who the kid was." Zeke pleaded with wide eyes. "I just needed my beaty…I wasn't going to hurt him, I swear!"

The Chem-Baron sauntered to the boy. "Shh," Silco put a finger on his own lips. "You have nothing to fear, I don't intend for you to die." He reached down a hand for Zeke to grab. The teen looked at the hand with an extreme amount of caution before he slowly grabbed it.

He was jerked upright, leaving him frightened, but that was all. "You're not..?" He questioned for the second time at someone sparing his life.

"No, I'm not," Silco began, slowly walking circles around the boy. Like a shark preparing for the kill. "No boy-you see-my son could have killed you, yet he chose not to. He's done so easily in the past." Zeke's eyes widened again at that. "But he didn't. Do you know…why?" Silco stepped in close, burning eye boring into him, eyes glaring with not a smile to be found on his face.

"My son…when he had every reason to, he saw something in your eyes that made him stop. He saw the potential for something more, the potential..." Silco spat in his ear, "for greatness."

Zeke looked put off at this turn of events. "What?" He whispered to himself.

Silco, not giving him a second to think, pressed on. "Tell me, why beaty. What started it, how does it make you feel?" The crime lord stepped back, giving the boy space. Zeke looked down at the ground, staring at nothing. His exhaustion, both physically and mentally, combined with his inexperience. He was like putty in Silco's hands.

"I was afraid. I was tired of it. For once I wanted…that fear to go away. I wanted-I wanted to feel free from it all…" Zeke lamented, his veins beginning to itch.

There was almost a scowl on Silco's face, but the passion in his voice hid it for something else. "Let me tell something I know for a fact." He raised a vial of viscous purple liquid. "Power is the only path to freedom. And power only comes…" He slowly leaned his hand Zeke's way. "To those that can take it."

Pulse is a dirty, disgusting drug, Silco mused. Truly, we couldn't have asked for a better first trial.

Silco finished, "And I never doubt my son."

Zeke stared, transfixed on the purple liquid. It glowed like nothing else. The putrid green of 'beaty' that clung to needles could never compare. Zeke hesitated, clearly debating with himself. But before long, he carefully grabbed it. He screwed the top off, the purple was shining in the darkness of the room.

It was beautiful.

He decided. In one quick motion he downed the vial. And to him, the taste must have been heavenly. Pulse was a gutter drug, simple and quick to make. It could never compare to the sheer complexity that went into Shimmer. The Good Doctor was to design a drug that targeted as many pleasure centers in the brain as he could get away with. He would accept nothing but perfection in this matter. To the boy, he must have felt at home.

Zeke gasped, dropping the vial. It started with his veins, and then his marks. The marks covering his arms and face switched from red to purple.

"A-Ah." Shimmer purple filled his bloodshot eye. "AH!" He bent over himself, before his body began to contort. "AHHH!"

CRACK

The noise filled the room like a whip. His bones twisted. His skin squelched. Blissful pain mixing with scorching pleasure. "AHHHHH-" It was the best thing he ever felt. It was the worst thing he ever felt. Like plunging your hands in ice cold water on a sizzling summer day. Relief and pain in equal measure. It was the furthest reach of experience the mortal body could take before it began to break.

His nails elongated to claws, purple dripping down his fingers as they ripped themselves out of his skin for more room. His body snapped and extended, gaining in height. Fangs grew out of his crooked teeth.

It's not just the power it gives you. Silco watched the horror form with a clinical eye. It's the fear it brings.

The painful transformation was finished. Zeke was bent over, hands pressed to the floor. His claws drew long ravines into the ground as he reached his head up to Silco.

"More…" He pleaded.

And just like that…we have our volunteer.

The fact it was someone who attacked his son was only a bonus.

Truly, Vivek had given Silco the perfect opportunity. Now, removing Vander was the first step for control over the Undercity.

Vek could use the chance to gain more leadership experience… Silco pondered.

Everything was almost prepared for freedom. Now it was time to take it.

Chapter: 3 Home is You

The first domino falls. In more ways than one.

Just want to say this preemptively, don't ever want this to come off as "Silco is 100% right, everyone else is wrong." Even if some characters might say that in the future. That would be a disservice to Arcane's character writing. Everyone's got their own point of view formed from their own experiences. Some are just more biased than others.

Thanks for reading!

City Lights and Midnight Blues

League lore is in a bit of strange place right now. Arcane is supposed to be the new canon, but some of the old lore contradicts it. Riot hasn't explicitly stated what is or isn't canon yet, so we're kind of in a state of not knowing.

So for the sake of this story, Arcane is the main thing I'm drawing from, with bits of extended LoL lore I think is cool or serves the story. Maybe in a few years the lore will be more defined, but I'll just say this is an AU or something. I'm treating anything outside of base Arcane as sort of a DnD handbook. I'll pick and choose whatever works best.

That said, I do want this to be in line with season 2. So I need to be a bit careful of some of the stuff I mention. But there's like a 7 year timeskip between Act 1 and 2 of the show. So I think I have enough time before season 2 stuff becomes more important. I don't plan to follow canon 1-to-1 anyways, but It's better to be safe I feel.

I loved all the Undercity. But I think the Entresol layer was my favorite place to visit.

Here life was the most vibrant. A mismatch of markets and experiences. The Entresol was the black jungle of metal that people commonly thought of when they heard the name 'Undercity.' Silco said there weren't originally any layers. In fact, Piltover still didn't officially acknowledge the individual layers, it was just so commonly spoken that it went unstated in official records.

Zaun only started to become separate from Piltover after the expansion underground. No one expected Piltover's little industrial slum to expand so much to the point where it became its own city. The Undercity grew so much that it was only natural that we would create our own nomenclature and culture. So much so, that we had a lot of names referring to the same places. Like the Fissures sometimes being called the same as the Sump. It was strange, but it was ours, and we made do. It's not like Piltover cared much. They were only concerned about reaping the seed of our hard work.

Hence the layers.

The Promenade was anything built above ground. While the Sump was anything built on the base stone underground, either literally or in the ravines. We all at least agreed on that. The Entresol…was everything in-between. The sprawling black vines that twisted between each other creating an open-air maze. Metal platforms and stilts that bore an uncountable weight. Dense was the best word to describe it. It was how the Lanes got its name after all.

There was some debate about where Entresol became Sump. But it was generally understood that the Entresol was 'everything in the middle reaching to above ground.'

Vander may have ran things from the Sump, but it was the Entresol where that showed the most. The best I could describe was that it was our 'Manhattan.' It was bright and flashy, the center of our world.

And it's where I found myself today.

I was heading for an information broker. There were some things I needed confirming that I couldn't just bring up to Silco. I didn't want him to know about the whole reincarnation thing, and I didn't think I would be able to explain my knowledge away. I also just didn't want to lie to him if he asked. I kept my secrets, as every child did from their father.

I made sure to visit multiple brokers. It was only smart to make sure the information was similar between each broker. You also didn't want too big of a paper-trail, and I had a lot of questions. People didn't care too much about my age. Long as I had the money, at most I'd get a weird look. So today was my research day, and I learned some interesting things.

I was careful not to mention any specific names, I was scared about anything leading back to me even slightly. But I could read between the lines from general information. Most importantly on a geopolitical level, the expansionist empire Noxus had been reforged. Reeling from their Ionian campaign, the dishonored Swain came home and took control. Dissatisfied with the direction of the empire, he ousted the emperor and assumed absolute control.

And then he gave it up.

He checked his own power by forming a council of three offices. One of which he was the head of. From what the rumors spoke of, he seemed like a man with a specific vison of the world who would stop at nothing to obtain it. Swain reminded me of Silco. The situation in Noxus was important in knowing if the empire turned their gaze southward to Piltover. Thankfully, we had a bit of protection in that Piltover, and thus the Undercity, was the trade capital of the world. Our unique location ensured that. It was something to keep in mind after Zaun gained her independence.

There were a few other things I was able to confirm. The Shadow Isles were seen as a cursed land no one ventured to, so no Ruined King yet…I think. Also, nothing on demonic scarecrows or a sword that can take over your body. And that was about the extent of my knowledge of external threats. As for things closer to home…

Nothing about a werewolf in the Undercity, that one got me some strange looks. And no overt acts of terrorism either, so no Jinx. No one had any idea about what a 'Hextech' was. At this point I was beginning to suspect something. And then I realized I had a misconception. Mages were rare in this world. Magic as a whole was uncommon.

Magical or otherwise fantastical races, like Yordels, were more common. But magic itself? It was a whisper in the wind. Apparently, it had been like that since the Rune Wars. It was like magic itself drew back from the world after that. Unless this was some type of alternate universe, I think I was reborn in a time before most Champions got their start. The few things I could remember didn't seem to be a thing yet. I thought it was a reasonable assumption to make. It would make since in a city where 'Zaun' was just an idea after all.

There was just one more thing I had to find out.

"Fresh fish from topside! Barely no chemicals!" A voice called from a stall. One of the many lining the walls. There were as many open markets as there were shops inside. This particular corner had a lot of foods and perishables. The pleasant smells mixed with the acidic odor that covered everything in the city. To those unused to life here, it must have been nauseating. But we Zaunites dealt with it with practiced ease. It was one of the ways we could tell an easy mark from a crowd. And why there were so many stalls outside.

I made sure to walk with confidence but kept my eyes on the ground in front of me. Don't show weakness, but don't draw attention also. My arms were close to me so I could move through the sea of bodies with ease. It wasn't worth it trying to pickpocket here. If they caught me, it would cause a fight, and the whole point of this was me being inconspicuous.

I shuffled into an open bar, sitting on a stool. A stool much too high for me, as I grunted swinging on to it, the pink neon light coloring me. The owner turned my way. A large man with some rolls on him. Bald with a large blond handlebar mustache. "Past ya' bedtime isn't, lad? Ha!" He laughed as if it was the funniest thing he ever heard, neck lines jiggling unsightly. "Well alright then, what'll it be?" Translation: no money, no service.

"Milk," I narrowed my eyes at him. "And make it warm." Pretty soon I'd start to grow, then I wouldn't be able to leverage my age anymore, but I'd use while I could. He snorted at me, laughing again as he crouched under the counter. Each information broker had their own way of doing business. Some of you just paid and asked. Others, like this one, were annoying.

"Where do you want it sourced from?" He called out, searching for something under his counter. Translation: where is the info coming from? Tsk, couldn't just pay and be done with it. Always some extra step added to throw off outsiders. I mean I understand the necessity of it, but it's all so tedious.

"Sewer milk, please." I responded. There was something I was looking for in the sewers.

He came back up with a disposable bottle. He roughly placed it on the counter in front of me. Green dyed milk swashed inside. The bubbles frothing and sticking to the glass.

Eugh.

Another reason I hated getting information this way. At least brokers like this were more trustworthy than the average back-alley dealer. I screwed off the top, smelling it slightly. Oh, it was warm all right.

I gazed at my impending death by food poisoning with a scrunched-up look. I glanced up, the broker had a large jovial smile on his face and an expectant look on him. My head slowly lowered back down. Well, nothing to it.

I chugged it in one swig. Warm and slightly sour tase, not of spoiling but of that distinct acidic kind. I could only imagine what kind of animal this was sourced form. It stuck to my teeth and gums.

I needed a second swallow.

When I was done, the sourest look was on my face. My stomach was groaning dangerously as I glared at him. "HAHA!" Mr. information broker slapped his stomach, sending it rippling in waves. "You only needed a gulp full, lad! You put more back than I've seen a grown man do!" Yeah, but you're impressed now, aren't you, you piece of shit…I thought to myself in spite.

He sighed happily, while I resisted the urge to cough. "Well alight then, what'ya in the market for, lad?" I wonder what was up with all these accents from Undercity natives. I had some guesses, but I should ask Silco some time.

I sighed to myself, but it came out as more of a growl. "Hear anything about any racoons?" I rasped out. We were done with the bullshit and could get down to business.

He blinked slightly, eyes darting as he thought about something. Then, a large smile returned to his face. "Sewer raccoons, eh? Why don't you pay for your drink first." He stated this with a glint in his eyes. He had the information. Otherwise, the drink would've been free.

I didn't know everything about League of Legends, but I did have a friend that used to be obsessed with card games. One of which he played was a League card game with bits of lore added for flavor. I half-remembered some of his rants when I remembered the whumps.

A race of sapient racoon-like mammals that could withstand toxicity, slumming it out somewhere in the sewers. That toxic resistance was useful for a city like this. And if the timeline was as early on as I thought, then they may not have been a known quantity. Assuming they were there, and I could convince them to work with me…

I smelled a business opportunity.

I placed my currency pouch on the counter, ready to play ball. All of it was the hard-earned money I got from completing jobs. I could probably just ask Silco for money, but I wanted to do this myself until I found them. I needed to show him I was worthy of my independence. Then, I could convince him to invest in this little idea of mine

Finally, I was getting somewhere.

The areas of the sewer where my racoons were rumored to be seen were a bit too dangerous for me to visit on my own. So, my search would have to continue another day.

I made my way back towards the Sump. The ground sloped slightly as the buildings lost some height. There was less neon and glitz. A bit more grounded than my previous surroundings, but still undoubtedly the Undercity. This was the area where it was debated if it counted as Sump or Entresol. Personally, I thought there needed to be more urban development before a line could be evenly drawn.

I was making a few stops in this area for some necessities. Floss, to be precise. You didn't eat sweets like me without good dental health, or at least I didn't. I was a little hesitant to rely on Undercity dentistry, something I would absolutely be looking into once we could govern ourselves.

I was looking for a specific pawn shop for that very reason. One, it was simpler to just buy secondhand Piltover floss. And two, I needed to scout out Silco's rivals after all.

It was getting closer to evening, so the smog was starting to interact with the colder air and increased humidity. You wouldn't think of the underground being humid, but not all of it was strictly underground. And, we were close to a river, so it could seep through the filtration system. This led to a thick mist that clung to our feet. Sometimes it would glow green, but this particular variant was a stale grey.

It made me think of myself as the star of a Noir thriller as I swam through the mist. Well, my father is a kingpin. I thought amusingly to myself, the green lanterns leading me through to my destination.

I opened the door, a bell ringing as I did so. There was a homey vibe to the store. It definitely smelled better than out in the smog-mist.

"Welcome to Benzo's!" A young voice spoke up. Looking up I saw-

There's no way.

I stared with wide eyes at a boy around my age. Dark skin, short white haired. Grease stains on his white shirt. Was this really him? Did he just look similar?

Quickly I tried to mask my disguise, snapping myself out of it. "H-Hi, Benzo not in?" I asked for clarification.

"Nah, he's out right now. I'm just watching the store for him." He said, shaking his head with hands braced on the counter. My heart couldn't help but race; I tightened the red handkerchief around my neck.

"Oh…and uh, who are you?" I tried to ask casually. Maybe it was strange to get this worked up. But to me, this would be the first direct confirmation of the knowledge I had from Earth.

He smiled at me, bright pearly teeth on display. "My name's Ekko! I'm Benzo's assistant." Well, there we go.

I smiled back. Instantly, the excitement started to cool with relief. "I'm Vivek! Say, you got any floss in stock, preferably Piltover?" I asked him. I didn't want to linger too much on my shock and make things weird. But still, he was here the entire time…

Working for Benzo, Vander's right hand.

Uh oh.

I wasn't sure of his story, but I knew of his title. The Boy who Shattered Time.

That sounded pretty crazy. That sounded like a threat. But as much as there was an idea to take care of him now, I just couldn't stomach the idea. Maybe it was naive, but I'd deal with him when he's an actual threat, not when he's still a child. Stupid idea or not, I wanted to live by my own convictions, so I wouldn't second guess this.

And if that wasn't conformation of my theory. The Champions I knew of were probably mostly my age right now.

Ekko rubbed the back of his head a bit. "Piltover floss? Uhh, I mean, floss in general?" He trailed off leadingly. "Sorry, don't think we got any of that. That's all though? Just…floss?" Ekko quirked an eyebrow at that.

"Hey now, don't knock good dental health. I am very particular, about my teeth, it's important." I answered with hands on my hips, not willing to play it off as something minor. It wasn't to me.

He shook his head again at that, "Sorry, man. No floss here."

I couldn't help but frown at that. I would have to look around some more. "Dammit. Ah no worries, thanks though." I waved as I made to turn around. My interest in Ekko immediately starting to wane. I didn't want to be weird and force a conversation. I could always come back, after all.

"Oh hey, wait a sec! Does it have to be Piltover?" He interrupted my exit. Turning back around, I saw there was a contemplative look on his face. A pinched expression as he puzzled something out.

"Well, I guess as long as it works…" I remarked, not quite sure where he was going with this.

"Maybe…I could whip something up real quick?" Ekko asked this with an excited smile on his face.

I tilted my head at that in askance.

"Just-just give me a sec." He ran off to the backroom. That was a bit strange, but I was willing to be patient for some floss. Only a couple of minutes later he returned. A random assortment of bits and bobs in his arms.

Was he really going to?

"It's no Piltover make, but I can guarantee its quality." He stated with certainty, beginning to cobble something together. I watched with amazement as he created something in no time at all. Ekko quickly cut some wound-up string, before smothering it in machinery. I could hardly understand how he was doing everything. The shell of an old pocket watch, gears placed on either side on its innards. String was quickly threaded through, his hands moving so fast I could hardly keep track. And his eyes…

Apparently in Runeterra, the word 'Champion' originated from the Rune Wars. It was a name reserved for the greatest of heroes and villains and everything in-between. People that distinguished themselves from the rest, who stood out. There was no magical force, or anything that marked them out from a crowd. It was just a title, a mark to signify their status. It was their actions, the things they did that made them known as the pinnacle.

Watching as his eyes stared down with sheer focus, I could understand how this boy would one day earn that title.

"Ta-dah!" The Boy who would One Day Shatter Time held up his creation. The glass of the pocket watch showed off the internals. A long bunch of string pulled onto the gears. As the string was pulled through the top of the watch the gears would spin, facilitating its ease of use. The shell was slightly popped open, just enough for the string to be pulled through. A slight sharp point to cut it off. And he did it all in at most 5 minutes.

"You…you did that, that fast?!" I couldn't help but say with amazement in my voice. My eyes were wide in wonder. "And you just, made it for me just like that?"

What a good kid!

He chuckled at that. A proud smile on him. "Nah man, it's nothing too complex. Just needed to make something to hold the string and cut it off." Ekko's eyes gained a calculating glint. "But since it's so hard to find good floss down here, and it's custom made…It should cost a bit extra, yeah?" His smile had teeth.

Ah never mind, that's why he did this. There's the Sumpsnipe in him.

"Alright, alright. Can't say you don't deserve it…" I sighed, grumbling as I grabbed the necessary silver gears from my pouch and started counting. I stopped, my finger in the middle of a silver gear in my palm. An idea popped into my mind. He wasn't wrong about floss being annoying to find. But is it annoying enough for me to pay extra for this?

I chided myself. Of course it wasn't too much when it came to my teeth.

"Say, now that you mention it…what do you think about a commission." I led with a sly smile of my own starting to grow between my cheeks.

Given the way Ekko's eyes lit up, I knew those were the magic words.

Walking into my father's top office. I had a smile on my face.

A new floss capsule with thin enough string. And then a specialty made one on the way. It cost a pretty penny, but I think it'll be worth it in the end. Quality floss, and the chance to study Ekko's technology? Sounded like a win-win to me.

The top office was a bit more stereotypical. Boxed-in walls, papers on a brown wood desk, and a black leather chair. Sat in which was Silco, a cigar lit in his mouth. Smoke filled the small room. I wrinkled my nose as it wafted my way. Maybe it was my past life speaking, but I never liked smoke. I'd take the smog instead.

"You need me for something, Dad?" I questioned. I made sure to stay in my casual-ware. There was a time and a place for the fancier outfits.

He lazily blew out some smoke. Two fingers pinching the cigar and grounding it onto the ash tray. "I do. Right now, I have some street rats keeping an eye on Vander's kids. I want you to take over, make sure they don't overstep." Silco cut straight to the point soon as I asked.

My lips twitched a bit. I knew Vander had adopted some kids, but I never knew the specifics. "Wait so, you want me to…lead them?" I asked, wanting to make sure. This was a big step for me from him.

The Baron pointed at me with his cigar. "I do. Keep them in check, we can't draw Vander's attention just yet. I trust you much more than I trust them." He said, eye half-lidded with distain. There was a warmth welling up inside me as he stated the unstated.

I smiled, my hand coming to my head in a salute. "Leave it to me, boss! Oh, but if they have any issues listening to me? Or they try to overstep anyways?" I inquired. You could never be too sure when it came to gutter grown goons.

A dark frown came over his face. "I would hope that they're smarter than that. But if they do…then it won't happen twice. Act with your best judgment." Silco said. Nodding his head up at me slightly.

Order received, there was a brief silence in the office. Only the burning of tobacco being heard. "Now then, have you had a productive trip?" He asked me in genuine curiosity. Not everything was business between us, he cared after all.

I bobbed my head. "Yep, got a whole lot done. Might even have an investment opportunity to pass to you! And I got some extra floss today, too." I rambled on excitedly.

The kingpin smiled slightly in amusement. "Floss, was it? Don't you have enough already stocked back?" He asked this before taking another puff of his cigar, the core of it sparking as he took a breath.

I scoffed at that, "There can never be enough floss."

As he smiled, I could see how the scars around his eye pulled. The orange in his eye was like the burn in his cigar. "And this investment, is it like your last one?" Silco asked, the slightest bit of mirth in his voice. When he showed positive emotions, it was always softly and subdued like this. When he was being genuine that is.

I was aghast at his accusation. "No! This is a real one, that'll make us money! Well, the frosted sugar cookies will too…but I'm still researching that." I trailed off at that thought. "But I don't want to mention it yet without confirming anything for sure."

Silco put out his cigar, extinguishing it down on the ash tray. He put his hands together. "Well, now you have my curiosity. Don't worry if nothing comes from it, what did you find?" He asked me this, ready to measure my idea's worth.

"Ok, so let me tell you about these sewer racoons I heard about today…"

We would continue to talk through the evening.

Chapter 4: City Lights and Midnight Blues

Bit of a set up chapter, but one that's necessary for the future in a number of ways.

Few more chapters, then we get to Jinx and I can fill those 7 years with all kinds of exciting stuff.

Unlucky Me, Lucky You

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

It looks like every two days I'm putting these out. Didn't plan for that, but oh well. Not sure I'll always be able to keep up that pace though. Speaking of that, there's a storm coming my way, so the next chapter might take a bit longer.

The blue of the bottom office was always suitably intimidating.

I leaned on Silco's desk, bracing my hands behind me. My father was in his chair, glowering at the door. I could wax poetic forever about the view. The light and the shadows. The monsters, for there could be no better word for the serpents slithering in the deep. How their forms would cross the window, giving a glimpse of what laid beneath everyone's feet.

I wonder if Silco sees himself as these serpents. Does he see me like that as well? I pondered this as we waited for our new arrival.

I didn't have time to continue my pondering as the door opened. Rico, placid as ever, led in a teenager to the office. A boy with a mop of blond hair. He looked a couple of years older than me, so probably 15 to 16. A brown vest matching his dark colors.

Two goons outside shut the only exit, leaving just the four of us in the wide office. The teen was clearly doing his best to show a confident face. He glanced around slightly, his eyes lingering on me confusedly. "You wanted to see me, sir?" He asked, standing straight.

Silco stared at him for a second. He let the silence suffuse the office. "I did," he finally stated. The Chem-Baron drew his hand up, presenting me as I straightened off the desk. "Deckard, from now on, Vivek will be our go-between. Anything I order will be relayed through him and he will be leading your reconnaissance duties. Is this understood?" Silco had his perpetual scowl on his face. His eye standing out in contrast to the blue.

Deckard's eyes widened, his stiff posture deflating. "You…you want this kid, to lead my crew?" The urchin asked this in disbelief. Silco kept an unamused look trained on the boy.

"Yes, and I expect that you'll comply with this." The man tapped his finger on the desk in a slow steady beat. "Won't you, Deckard." He ordered this with a sharp glance.

Deckard visibly swallowed down whatever misgivings he may have had. "Yes sir, we'll…comply with this." He turned a look my way, his grinding together slightly.

I took that as my cue.

"Hi there, I'm Vivek! But you can call me Vek, Viv, Vi, or anything in-between!" I smiled at him widely, my hand stretched out in front of him. He gave it an unimpressed look, before quickly glancing at a watching Silco. Deckard grabbed my hand and gripped.

"Deckard," he nodded out. I could tell the look in his eye wasn't that of a greeting.

I just continued to smile. Not letting the pain show.

Does this idiot not see the optics of this situation?

We were in the presence of a Chem-Baron, feared members of our society. And here I was, all nonchalant leaning on his desk and smiling. I hoped he would pick up on the implication that I wasn't just the average street rat. That Silco gave me a degree of freedom that he didn't others. But then again, maybe I was being a bit too harsh. Not everyone had two lifetimes of experience, after all. Nor one raised by a man like Silco.

Still though, I can understand him being disgruntled.

Here comes this random kid taking charge of him and his friends. People he probably had to band together with to survive. In his shoes, I'd feel the same.

And that brought up the question of why this was happening in the first place. Silco could send anyone to spy on Vander's kids, street rats especially. To have me come in and take over for an established group? He was playing favorite with me as he always did.

He was testing my ability to lead. Seeing if I could establish my own control over an already formed group. At least, I thought that's what this was. It wasn't too unreasonable for me to think he'd have someone report back to him on my efforts secondhand. Silco was giving me rope and seeing what I made from it. It was what I wanted after all, to show him I was capable.

I wouldn't let him down.

"Looking forward to working with you, Deckard!"

I had to admit, this was pretty awkward.

These guys all knew each other, and I was the new variable. The fact that I was sent by Silco was probably the only reason I wasn't getting jumped.

There were two other guys and two girls. Rounding our team out to six. They looked like what you would expect of a teenage street gang. I learned their names, but I just called them goons 1-4 in my head. We were spread out in teams of two, me with Deckard of course, much to his displeasure. We were placed strategically as sentries, overlooking the building our targets were held up in.

Well. I placed them that is. I didn't have a map, but Sico was right. I didn't know this area in particular, but free running gave me the experience of predicting what vertical exits they might take.

They first went into that building in a hurry, doing their best to not be spotted. They were planning something. Normally I would ruminate on that more, but there was something else occupying my mind.

Their appearances.

They were all what was expected of the Undercity. Two boys, two girls. Some with earthly hair, some with more vibrant colors. A curious commonality that I've found in this world. Those hues that were just as expected as brown or black.

The girls had hair of pink and blue.

Were this before my meeting of Ekko, I would have tricked myself into believing that they were someone else. Which was still a possibility. The colors weren't too out there after all. But after meeting him, with him being so close to Vander…

I think I found Jinx.

The pink-haired one was more curious.

Vi…is this the enforcer that's rivals with Jinx?

It would make the most sense, but not how she was a Piltover Champion. An enforcer at that. And that wasn't even getting into the fact that she was Jinx's sister!?

I frowned as I tried to puzzle this out. Didn't the enforcer lose her memories or something? Was that how that came about?

But why did I not know they were sisters? That seems like a big deal!

Maybe they always were, or it was heavily implied, and I never noticed. Not for the first time, I cursed not obsessing over League lore when I had the chance. I just had to make do with the bits that I did have.

I was shaken out of my thoughts by an elbow that sharply cut into my shoulder. "They're moving!" Deckard hissed at me, reminding me of my responsibilities. We were crouched in an alley, graffiti and broken bottles surrounding us.

The building they emerged from was stout, packed into the other buildings as it was. The door opened casually as our marks made their way out of their hideaway. They were wearing backpacks; they must've stashed them here in preparation. The elder sister lead the way. Pink hair combed back, a build of muscle and wrappings on her fists. A fighter. Next were the brothers: Claggor, big boned yet with a stocky body, goggles on his head. Mylo, thin and tall with wild hair, he walked with a cocky stride. Then there was the little sister, Powder.

Blue eyes, blue hair that was framed short on the front of her face, but it was long on the back of her head. So long that it was tied into a singular braid. She was adorable, eyes wide, almost impossibly so, as she looked every which way. It was hard to imagine. To reconcile the maniac with this cute little girl. But seeing her in person, seeing that braid, there could be no doubt.

This was Jinx.

"Stay loose," I hissed back at him. "Stick to the plan, don't group up too close as we move." I was taking this as seriously as I could. These people could decide the fate of the revolution after all.

He scoffed but followed my directions. Our posse followed the group at a distance. Just enough to keep an eye out, but close enough to relay orders in a run if needed. It was about the best that could be expected from fellow street rats. They walked with purpose to the upper levels of the Entresol, past some of the markets. The spires reached high into the sky, some of which bore elevators and passages to the Promenade. The noise easily covered our hurried footsteps.

I didn't have time to admire the sea of people as I normally would. Deckard and I did our best to keep an eye on them. We watched as they got into an elevator to the surface above. One of many mine elevators once used to ferry stone, repurposed for transportation.

I turned to him, my foot tapping. "Gather the others, we go up together." None of my previous happy-go-lucky attitude to be found.

It was rare I got such a chance to explore topside.

We were all packed together in the elevator. Old metal, some of it rusted, shook as it started to ascend. The shaking metal drowned out the whine of the pulleys and cables. I could see the top of the Entresol from the elevator's open front. The ever-present green filtered through the air, reflected from both the smog and the specialty made glass. It seemed to fold into itself, an incestual architecture. One that spoke of the need to make use of every inch of land.

She flourished, even with a boot against her neck.

The rattling stopped. We turned around and I beheld the sunlight.

It was strange, light covering everything completely. I took a second to let my eyes adjust. Like staying inside all day in the dark before rushing into a bright sunny day.

I'd heard of people who would go years without direct sunlight. There was even the very rare case of someone never seeing the natural light for their entire life. It used to be more common for the bottom level fissure miners.

"All right, back to formation. Try to be as inconspicuous as possible."

We continued our tailing, while I glanced around the Promenade. It was strange, seeing buildings out in the open sky again, not a ceiling in sight. It made me think the blue would just suck me up and I'd fall forever.

The group made their way to the bridge. They hesitated at its front, the memorial of the failed uprising beside them. Before finally, they crossed.

"They're being bold." I whispered to myself. I don't think I've ever set foot in Piltover properly. Silco was always worried about something happening and him being forced to escalate the situation.

"Well, we going or not?" One of the girls, goon 3 asked me as she approached. I chewed the inside of my lip. If things went sour, I'd be responsible for these guys. I would potentially put them in danger. Silco might not care, but they were nominally on our side. They were the youth of Zaun. If it wasn't necessary, then their lives should be treated with the respect it was owed.

But I needed to see Piltover. I needed to understand.

"We are." I said with determination, eyes steeling on the bridge. There wasn't anything else that needed to be said. We walked to the bridge; the stone being replaced by metal. I examined the memorial as we moved. The only remnant of the lives snuffed out for freedom. Of the blood that stained this bridge.

I could smell the salt in the air. It was from the river, a strait in truth, that cut through two continents. Two cities. The soft breeze fluttered my handkerchief. It was without a doubt the cleanest air that ever entered my lungs in this life. And in both, this was the first time I could ever get such a clean lungful. My body felt light as I took it in.

I found it nauseating.

The smell was different than home. No chemicals to be found. No lingering sting. And it was all just a short elevator ride up.

My face darkened. My palms stung as my nails dug into them. Wasn't it natural to feel this way? Didn't it make sense, given the circumstances?

Our mission continued as we stepped into Piltover.

White and gold. Bits of blue. The buildings had no patchwork. There was a clockwork theme throughout the city. The clothes were soft with ruffles and no little stray threads to be found. Bright colors everywhere that popped in the sunlight. There was an airship passing by. The entire city-state was built on a hill. The buildings and monuments rose as the elevation went up. It was like a strange mirror of Zaun.

"We stayin' together, Vivek?"

The opulence just casually on display. There were gold statues in view. Gold, either real or painted, lining the shops. Pleasant smells of bread and other baked goods. No other odor mixed with it. No chem-staining to be found. The sound of a violin in the distance, of the laughter of children. They had a marble fountain carved with fish that had clear, clean water just gushing everywhere it could.

"Vek"

And the enforcers…Not all had a full helmet, but the quality of the suits was clear to see. Some had metal evenly fitted to their form. Enough that it would probably block a bullet or two before it was useless.

"Vivek!"

I glared as Deckard grabbed my shoulder. My eyes were wide on my face, open so I could see as much as possible. "The fuck you doing? We moving or not?" He asked me with impatience.

"We move." I replied, keeping my voice emotionless. It was the best I could do to not snarl out my answer. Quickly I walked away, trying to keep track of the targets. Inside me, there was a storm of different emotions.

I didn't really get it before.

I mean I did. But there was a difference between understanding and understanding. How much better things were here, how much more they were stronger than us. These people didn't know how good they had it. And they just…didn't care.

It wasn't like every person here hated us and tried to make things worse. That's not how most people worked. I'm sure there were a lot of good people here. A lot that would want to make things here better for the Undercity.

They were just ignorant of us, of what we lived through. Whether willfully or not, they didn't know about us. Most of our city was underground after all. We were just their inconvenient truth. I wasn't sure if I would think differently if Silco wasn't my father. If I didn't grow up hearing how they took advantage of us. Maybe in that life, I would've tried to bring information to Piltover about conditions in the Undercity. Get a bunch of peaceful protestors on both sides to try and make things better.

I walked through the city with purpose as I tried to memorize everything. I didn't know when I would return to this side of the river. It could be tomorrow, or it could be years. I would probably be needed in Zaun fully soon to establish our center of power. To prepare for the inevitable revolution.

Piltover was just an idea for me at first. An ever-present force for me to struggle against. I didn't care about the specifics, I just wanted to be free. To not have something dictating how my life should go. Being here…I could understand a bit of my father's hatred.

I stopped briefly to look at a golden statue of Heimerdinger.

A Yordle…

The founder of Piltover and thus its Undercity.

I didn't hate Piltover, not really. I could understand if others did, but it felt…childish for me to. The civilians didn't always hurt us on purpose. It was the what kept the status quo that needed to be torn down. I understood it more, but the goal was the same.

Staring at that statue. I didn't feel hate. Anger at the unfairness of it, yes, but not hate. More than anything, I just felt…sad. That it had to come to this point. Of what would have to happen to win our freedom. It was such a beautiful city…

To live that long…What stories must he be able to tell?

I was looking forward to asking him in-person one day.

There was an explosion. A bright blue that flashed through the city.

The sirens started to screech, enforcers mobilizing as fast as they could. We quickly left to cross the bridge. We were close enough to one of them, so it made since we could catch sight of Vander's kids again here.

"What the hell did those idiots do?" Goon 2 asked himself out loud. Even back on this side of the bridge there was a nervous energy in the air. A few residents of the Promenade outside, peaking at the commotion. The failed uprising was still a recent memory for some.

"We should ambush them." Deckard said staring at the bridge. He was leaning against a building with crossed arms while the others crouched down or sat on steps. All heads turned to him.

This idiot.

I whirled on him. "Silco said we shouldn't interfere. I know he told you that before too." My posture was tense. Piltover was overwhelming in many ways.

He pushed off the wall. "They stole something from a fancy Piltover building. Something that could've caused that explosion!" Deckard stepped towards me, his nostrils flaring. "Silco would want us to grab it!"

I snorted. "Like you'd know what Silco wants. He gave us two orders: watch them and don't overstep." I glared up at him as stopped in front of me. His bulk towering over me. The goons hesitantly stood up, torn on helping their friend and displeasing Silco.

"And you do, brat!?" Deckard hissed at me, doing his best to get in my face. The anger that had been building all day started to bubble up.

Unfortunately, brief as my own temper was right now, my first thought was to grab the pistol hidden on me and place it under his chin.

Just to scare him of course.

I took a deep breath.

But that wasn't the first response. Not right now. It's better to be feared than loved. But that was only if you had to choose between the two.

I didn't know if I could make these guys love me. But that was part of what Silco was looking for here. I could at least try logic.

I let out the breath. "Look, do you really wanna second guess a Chem-Baron? An explosion happened in Piltover-we know who caused it, and that they have stuff that might have caused it. That's valuable, let's leave Silco to figure out the rest." I stared into his eyes, doing my best to untense.

"You want us all to drown in acid?"

We kept are gazes locked in a tense silence. The goons fidgeting nervously, before goon 1 spoke up. "Deckard let's-we should just let it go. I don't want to piss off Silco..." He stated this before trailing off.

Deckard clicked his tongue before turning away from me, stomping to the side. "Fine, we do things your way." He stuffed his hands in his pockets as he went back to his wall.

"Look, why'd you decide to shack up with Silco anyway?" I spoke up, interrupting him.

The street thug turned his head back to me with a pensive look. "What? Because the only way you rise anywhere in the Undercity is by hanging on to someone else, grabbing whatever scrap of power you can get." He meant those words. His gang looked like they believed it too. He probably convinced them that going to Silco was a better opportunity for success than dying somewhere like the mines.

I somewhat disliked that I always had to use my father's name and not my own. But I was still young, I knew my time would come.

"Well listen, Silco's the type to repay loyalty. Just keep your head down and follow things to the letter and you'll be fine." I rotated towards the bridge, feeling the wind caress my face.

He scowled at me in return. "I said alright, didn't I! Damn…" Deckard shook his head. The goons just glanced at each other.

I sighed.

He listens to his friends at least.

I would make sure we followed them to the Last Drop before reporting back to Silco.

But still that explosion…what was up with that?

Powder rushed into the elevator, breathing in short gasps.

Her family made it in at the same time covered in sweat. All of them took a moment to catch their breath, the adrenaline starting to fade now that they weren't in immediate danger.

"Guys-" Claggor swallowed, "what the hell was that?" The middle brother asked, sweat dripping down his forehead.

Mylo answered immediately, looking to Vi. "I told you we shouldn't've brought her. This happens every time, she's always jinxes us!" He made a wide gesture in Powder's direction as she grimaced.

"No I don't!" Powder cut in, fists clenched in defiance.

Vi slapped him on the back of his head.

"Ow!"

Vi blew out a breath from her nose. "I don't know, whatever happened, happened. But guys look at us!" She raised her arms to the rest in triumph. "We stole from some Piltover snob too rich for his own good! Now we just need to lay low and hide the goods." She said this as she held up the bag containing the few oddities they had found.

Mylo couldn't leave it at that. "I'm just saying, this was supposed to be an easy heist. But enforcers came crawling out of their holes like ants! We're lucky we even made it this far." The boy bit out.

Lifting his goggles a bit to scratch his head, Claggor sighed. He was content to stay silent as always, the conversation being one that was repeated often.

I didn't do anything wrong! Powder stewed in her mind, frowning as she looked down at the approaching Undercity.

Vi pinched her nose. "Just-let's just stay silent for now. We need to play it cool." She said before drawing her hood up. The elevator landed with a rumble. The metal scraped as its simple doors opened. The group prepared themselves before stepping out.

Even down here, there were already whispers of the explosion topside. The gossip was more prominent so close to the elevators as they were. The group moved in a formation; Powder placed protectively in the middle. Too weak to be trusted with anything else.

Powder watched her siblings as they moved. Vi moved with a quiet confidence up front, eyes set straight ahead. Claggor loyally took up their left like the big teddy bear he was. Mylo had no care as he walked with ease on their right.

She looked at the world in the gaps between her protectors. At the goods brought in from topside. The brothel and the whores that stood at its front to attract visitors. The various people that would pass her.

The noise of the city, their footsteps, murmurs, their whispers. ~~"She's a Jinx" They would say.~~

They were a constant to Powder. She always heard them. Even at home, in the basement, in the back of her mind itching at her ears, it remained. She would always hear the heartbeat of the city

It was all she ever knew. It was just home to her. She didn't give it a thought past that.

It didn't take long before the group's hurried footsteps led them to their home of the Last Drop. A cozy place that saw many visitors.

They opened the door to the bottom room with a clack of its wood. The family quickly lost some tension as they made it to their safe space. Vi clapped her hands, her hood back down. "Okay, we gotta stash the stuff here. We have to keep it close, can't risk it being stolen anywhere else."

Vi smiled at Powder, handing the bag to her. "Powder, I need you to hide this under your mattress, alright?"

The little sister looked up at her wide-eyed, grabbing the bag carefully. "Are you sure?" She asked hesitantly.

"Ugh, why does she get to hold on to it. She did the least amount of work!" Mylo groaned out. He was bent over on the couch.

"Because, she knows to not run her mouth, Mylo!" Vi glared at her youngest brother. "Unlike some of us." Mylo shied back a bit at her glare. The boxer glanced around the room. "So, it stays with Powder, cool?"

Mylo grumbled out a yes. Claggor, splayed out on his bed, gave a thumbs up in response.

Powder nodded with resolve in her eyes, clutching the bag tightly to her chest. "I'll have Mister Bunny protect it." She said with determination.

Mylo groaned while Vi cracked a smile. Claggor just gave another thumbs up, too tired for anything else.

"Okay!" Vi spoke up again. "Now we just need to keep this from Vander. You know he'd just confiscate it if he found it." She remarked while rolling her eyes.

Powder stared down at the bag and the blue crystals stored inside it. The ones that matched the crystal she stored in her pocket.

I won't let you down! She thought to herself eagerly, a smile on her face.

I didn't even get back to the warehouse before Silco met me. Since I was the go-between now, I dispersed the rest once I saw Vander's orphans make it home. Somtheing I'm sure annoyed Deckard.

Silco was standing by a skipper-a type of lieutenant that led a small group of people. The skipper was well built and tall, the regular makings of a leg-breaker. He was probably there reporting something, he didn't matter in the long run. "What happened?" Silco asked me sharply, hands steepled behind him. This part of the city was dark. I could see a few people moving in the shadows. I could speak freely here.

"You already heard about it, huh?" It wasn't surprising in the slightest. I sighed, "Okay so, they caused the explosion. They robbed some Piltover house and must've caused it to blow up somehow. It was blue in color, don't know if that means anything." I worked the kink out of my shoulder from the stressful day. "They ran off with a bag, there could be a chance whatever caused the explosion is still in there. The enforcers were locking everything down."

His eyes narrowed in contemplation. "So, they were the cause of it…" He glanced at me. "You did good. From now on, I'll have Ran and Jeryk keep an eye on them. Their whereabouts are now a high priority."

"And Deckard's gang?"

The Baron waved his hand. "Feel free to use them as you see fit. Tell them they will receive the same pay regardless." He said this almost absentmindedly. I blinked at that.

Well, I can think of some uses for my new goons.

He then turned to his skipper. "Enforcers will soon enter the Lanes on mass, tell me immediately once the sheriff comes down herself." Silco commanded. The other man nodded before leaving to presumably relay the orders.

"What happens next?" I asked him out of curiosity. I didn't expect the spying mission to lead to an explosion and a city-wide alert. Or maybe I should have, given who I was spying on.

"This…is the opportunity I've been waiting for. We need to use the chaos to our advantage." He glared into the dark. "It's time we took the first step." Silco declared, hands taut behind him again.

He was going to remove Vander and take his place.

If Silco spoke true, then things were about to move fast. Even without thinking about Vander, enforcers would probably be looking all over the Undercity for the perpetrators. Maybe even anyone they could pin the blame on. We would have to be careful. Draw back a bit on our activities and stay out of their sight.

I didn't get a chance to ponder this more, my finger tapping on my chin, as my father turned back to me.

"Why is it the very first time I send you to follow them, something like this happens?" Silco mused to me, his one good eye half-lidded in a deadpan.

I smiled right back in response. Like the good son I was.

"Because I'm a good luck charm!"

Chapter: 5 Unlucky Me, Lucky You

Some things happened similar to canon, but a few things are ending up differently. I wanted to experiment a bit with different narration styles for different character perspectives. But I'm not sure if I'm skilled enough for that yet. Like when Powder noticed the people whispering about the explosion, Vivek would have thought of all the stuff they might have been talking about. Less detail, which is why there's less paragraphs in Powder's section. I want to try different types of descriptions on the same place from different characters.

Maybe that won't go anywhere, but I'll at least try. And I'll make sure it won't be to the story's detriment.

Thanks for reading.

Stay safe if you're in the path of that hurricane!

Chapter End Notes

Oh man, it took a bit to figure out how to do that colored text. I never had to mess with HTML, but I feel like I'm gonna learn a lot more by the time I'm done with this.

I've Got The World On A String

Lost power a few times, but it looks like everything's back to normal around here.
Next week Metaphor: Refantazio comes out, and that'll take up a bit of my free time. Between that and my cat keeping me busy, I think I might update close to weekly for the near future. Could have stuff out sooner, but at least once a week if I can.

A fist slammed into my block. The blow pushed my arms into my face, my skin stinging.
I took a step back as I tried to regain my bearings.
I sent two quick jabs at her. They bounced harmlessly off her palms.
She's bigger than me.
I need to get in close, use my size against her.
Grapple her, go for her legs.
But she's strong enough to just pick me up, I need-
An open palm struck my face, sending me to the ground. I hissed as I clutched my cheek. It felt like it was on fire, I knew it would leave a bright red mark. After a moment, I glanced up as offered hand entered my vision. I grabbed it, letting her pull me up.
I looked up at her. Well-built, brown skin, dark hair, Sevika looked like was always ready for a tussle.
"You think too much, little prince. Get out of that head of yours." Sevika ordered, not looking winded in the slightest from our brief spar. I sighed as I rubbed my cheek.
She was a new recruit. One that was quickly rising through the ranks. It had been a hectic few weeks since the explosion topside. Like predicted, enforcers were sniffing around more than usual. And since most didn't know the Undercity, they took to brute forcing their way through everything. Tensions were starting to rise, and Vander, presumably trying to keep the peace, didn't want to push back against them.
This led to more people filling out our ranks, dissatisfied with the lack of action. It felt like a repeat of the failed uprising years ago. Some people just wanted to keep their heads down, but others still had that fire burn in them.
There was something to be said about people joining us out of belief and not because we were the winning side. Joining because of the cause, I knew Silco would repay that loyalty.
Sevika seemed all in on the revolution plan. And she showed that through her actions. Every order that was given to her was carried out with determination. Since entering our employ, she rarely complained, but wasn't afraid to criticize what she saw as bad ideas. Good traits to have
She was also a hell of a fighter, sometimes bruising with the other leg breakers on a job. Because of this, I thought to ask for a quick spar.
Much to my cheek's displeasure.
"Would you believe that's not even the second time I've heard that?" I asked cheekily, my usual smile on my face.
Sevika snorted. "Somehow, I'm not surprised." She shook her hand slightly, her own palm stinging from the force. "You have good ideas, but you don't get time in a fight. Sometimes you have to just act."
She pointed at me. "Don't think, trust your instincts." Sevika declared seriously. She was into this more than I expected.
I nodded. "I'll keep it in mind…well, not too much." I quipped at her. I stole a glance at our surroundings. We were in an open space at the warehouse. The was a buzz in the air, everyone a bit more anxious. Silm Jim sharpened knives at his forge. Crates full of Shimmer were ferried around. My father stood on top of a catwalk overseeing it all. I didn't know specifics just yet, but we were preparing to expand.
Preparing to take control over the Lanes.
"Thanks for taking some time out of your break." I smiled at her. "I was surprised you even said yes." I took it for a 50-50 chance.
Sevika smirked at me. "Normally, I probably wouldn't for a brat. But you're my boss' kid, so my life will be easier if you're still alive. And it shows you're willing to fight, not just sit back and take advantage of daddy's influence."
"Well," I scratched at my head, before gesturing at our surroundings. "I'm involved with all this regardless, it only makes sense to better myself anyway I can."
I believed that. Meeting a few people who had the title of 'Champion' so young was giving me ideas. If those kids could one day reach those heights, gain a moniker dating back to a continent destroying war, why couldn't I?
I think I was placing a mental gap between them and me. I guess it made since given my constitution in my first life. I never even thought of reaching that level of skill until I saw them. Being a warrior, a champion? It wasn't even an idea to me.
But seeing them like that, this early in the timeline, why shouldn't I reach for those heights myself? It would only help me. We would gain a lot of enemies in our revolution. I wanted to be strong enough to face them head on.
"Speaking of…you find your literal sewer rats yet?" Sevika asked me with mirth.
I scowled. "Racoons not rats. And no, no luck so far." I huffed, crossing my arms like a petulant child. "I have my goons looking too, and nothing's turned up. I'm gonna have to get drastic soon…"
"Well, have fun with your drastic measure." Sevika scoffed. "I need to head back to work." She lazily waved in departure. I watched as she disappeared in the blur of movement throughout the warehouse.
I think she liked me. I doubt she would've accepted my offer otherwise. There was a very real possibility that I would be ordering her around someday. Was that why? I didn't know if I could slot her into revolutionary 'fanatic' yet, but she was undoubtedly loyal.
I frowned. Wait, do I count as a fanatic?
I shook my head.
Nah, I'm much too reasonable for that.
It was time for me to head out. I had a commission to pay for.

Thankfully, it wasn't that foggy on the way to Benzo's.
I could only assume that was from it being mid-day and thus less humid. My feet splashed slightly on the wet concrete. It had been raining recently, leading to a slight metallic smell in the air. We didn't always have acid rain surprisingly. I could only assume that was because a lot of the factories were underground or in the ravines. The chemicals were absorbed down here before reaching the sky. That's what led to our famous smog.
A woman holding her child's hand passed by me. The child swung her arms happily, her boots bouncing in the acidic water.
A group of thugs watched this carefully, leaning on a wall. They were on the lookout for enforcers.
That was the thing about this city. The same person that robbed you would be just as willing to jump in if you were getting beat by enforcers. We would kill each other, but at the very least we had the understanding that we were all in the same boat. Get jumped? That's just how things worked down here, should've been more careful. Get jumped by an outsider? Well, time to grab the shanks.
I was a bit careful myself, walking around in the open. It was group of children they were looking for after all.
Being rough against children was the perfect way to raise tensions, no matter the reason why. Really, this was only helping us in the long run.
I continued my trek, glancing at the occasional passerby. Eventually I found myself in front of Benzo's. Smog-stained glass and crystals strung up on wires like windchimes. A curious tradition here in the Undercity. I would often find them framing shops or rooms. Just one of the ways we expressed ourselves here.
I made my way in. It was the same as before. Bits of tools scattered about, long wooden counter. Only this time the light was dim; a lamp and some candles were lit up.
And Ekko stood at the counter.
"Man, you're lucky." Ekko stated, a certain gold stopwatch placed down on the counter. "I was this close to locking up."
I looked around curiously. "Really? Where's Benzo, and why's everything dark anyways?"
The boy wonder pointed his thumb to outside. "He's been busy calming things down out there. I had to practically beg him to let me keep the store open for you." He gained a calculating gleam in his eye. "You know…I could charge extra for that." Ekko grinned at me.
I clicked my tongue at that. "Ha! I'm already paying this much on top of the commission fee for using Benzo's scrap. You can't fleece me that much." I said shaking my head.
"Damn," He muttered to himself.
It was fun, going back and forth like this. When was the last time I joked with someone my age?
Did I have any friends my age? Deckard and my goons had to count, surely. The fact they were paid to listen to me was irrelevant.
"Thanks man." I rubbed my hands together as I approached the counter. "So, what do you got for me?" I asked in anticipation.
Ekko regained his grin. "Okay, check this out!" He picked up the faded gold stopwatch. This was a little bit larger than the previous one I bought, and there was no glass showing off the internals. The shell covered it cleanly on both sides, leaving only a slight gap between the two. There was a sharp point where the two shells met. He pressed in the top knob, and from an opening to the side of it, string started to come out. "Just like that, automated floss!"
Press a button, floss pops out.
Brillant.
I matched his grin. "You're a genius, Ekko. How does this work?"
He excitedly explained his process, seeming happy to have someone to ramble to. I did my best to follow along. It was only polite. The automatic floss wasn't that complicated. It was like the first version I bought from him, only when you pushed in the knob a gear around it would turn, which in turn moved another gear. This process continued until the floss was funneled out of its shell. Simple for him to make.
It was worth every bit I paid.
"I'll say it again, you're a genius. You ever want a job away from Benzo's, hit me up. My dad'll set you up." I was having fun. I couldn't help but tease a bit.
Ekko's excitement dampened some, quirking an eyebrow in my direction. "Thanks but, Benzo's been good to me, my parents owe him one. What's your dad do though?"
"Oh, he's just some industrialist." I waved him off. "But seriously, this is exactly what I was looking for." I quickly changed the subject. I grabbed the floss dispenser off the counter, my tongue gliding across my teeth as I watched the string pop out.
Ekko laughed as I examined it. "My first commission, and it's floss. You're the only guy who'd ask for that, Vivek."
I shook my head, smiling. "You can never have enough."
Believe it or not, there was a reason beyond the floss itself. I planned to study it, see how it worked, take it apart, try to put it back together. It's why I asked for something as simple as floss. I don't know the first thing about engineering, but I wanted to figure this out. If I can't build something to help me, then I'll cobble together whatever bits and pieces I could into something dangerous.
That was the true Zaunite way.
Before long, silver gears were exchanged and a new floss-producing stopwatch was in my pocket. "Come back for another commission!" He exclaimed. Goodbyes exchanged, I made my way to the door.
Before I could grab the handle, the door slammed open.
The force of it caused me to stumble back, tripping over my feet in a hurry. I fell onto my behind as the door opened fully.
"Oh shit, my bad dude." A feminine voice apologized.
For the second time today, a hand came my way. This one covered in wraps. I looked up at Vi, a bashful expression on her face. I grabbed it, the wraps were bound tight, I could feel her callus' through it. She had rough hands. From fighting, or free running?
I was lifted off the floor, she was taller than me, being older as she was. This close, I could make out the light amount of freckles on her cheeks.
She raised an eyebrow at my staring. "You good?"
I modestly smiled in response. "Sorry, I'm good." There was a beat of silence as the conversation died out.
I tried to rack my brain for something to say. Her unexpected appearance caught me off guard.
Ekko interrupted our awkward exchange. "Vi, stop slamming the door open. And don't kill my customers!" He declared, coming out from behind the counter. I stepped out of her way as she came fully into the store.
"Yours? I think you mean Benzo's." She scoffed.
"No, this one was mine. Vivek show her!" Ekko asked with a proud expression. With him by the exit, we formed a loose triangle around each other.
Amusedly, I took out the pocket watch. I held it up as it shined slightly in the dim light. I pressed in the knob, showing off its magnificence.
"My first commission, Vi!" He said happily with a smile.
She snorted at that. "String huh? Well, good for you, little man." Vi nodded at him, thankfully not asking any questions about the floss. She then turned to me. "You're a friend of Ekko's? Surprised I haven't seen you around." The boxer asked me.
Were we friends?
All our talks so far were in a business setting. Were I not sure he wouldn't side with us…
He was a good person, they both were. They could never do what was necessary for freedom. I respected it, but I thought a little pain better than being chained as we were. Our true potential smothered in the crib.
I knew it wasn't a mindset that would win me many friends.
"Yeah, I'm Vivek!" I lied with a smile. "Also, sometimes called Vi."
She laughed at that, a hand on her hip. "You too huh? Funny coincidence."
"Ekko's my new floss dealer." I said, jingling the stopwatch before stuffing it in my pocket. I spoke up before the conversation could continue. "Sorry, but there's something I gotta do before the sun goes down. Nice to meet you, thanks Ekko!" I rushed out of the store, hearing their farewells.
"Bye Vivek!"
"Oh, nice to meet you…"
Ekko was a good kid. But I knew how this was going to end. I wouldn't fool myself.
I should head by Granny's. I thought to myself as I rushed down the street, feeling a small pang in my chest.
I need to put all this floss to good use.

It was only a bit further that I neared my next destination. I wasn't having any luck in finding the Whumps. I had Deckard and the goons regularly making the rounds, but even with the extra manpower I couldn't find anything. The annoyance was starting to get to me. I had already told Silco about the idea. And even if he didn't 'invest' in anything, I hated having another of his investments in me turn up nothing.
So I wanted to narrow it down. I needed to check at the heart of the Undercity. The place where all the information flowed. Silco would kill me for coming here without warning, but sometimes the risk is worth the reward.
And so, I found myself staring at the entrance to the Last Drop. The place where my 'Uncle' primarily handled business.
The architecture mirrored the rest of the Undercity. It was like several buildings merged into each other. The numerous windows at different elevations gave it that impression. There were pipes climbing along the building, they glowed from the warm light inside. A neon sign displaying a mug and the bar's famed name. With how it was built, it seemed like a pillar of the Undercity. One of the many that was around me. Each one similarly had a cramped construction.
It lacked the shine of the Entresol. The area around me was dim in comparison to the flashing lights. The Last Drop as it was now, was a symbol of necessity, but also of the past. A past where an uneasy peace was the best we could hope for.
I breathed out, deciding to get it over with. I made my way to the door.
It wasn't just the Whumps I was here for. I wanted to talk to him. To know who he was, to know the man behind the decisions. I've heard so many stories about him, he was always a far-off fixture in my life. I didn't know if I would ever have another chance like this. I wanted to talk to my uncle at least once.
I stepped into the bar. The sounds of the city immediately quieting as I stepped inside. A quirk of Undercity construction.
There was a pleasant hum of warmth inside. No doubt facilitated by the pipes outside. The room was wide with a polished wood floor. Tables and chairs filled the open space, and a bar top on each side of the room. There weren't many people at present, just a few talking in a corner for some undoubtably shady dealing. It was quiet enough to have a private conversation.
A record player off to the side had a row of records inside of it. A mechanical arm grabbed one and placed its next disc, a song beginning to play.
Polishing a bottle behind one of the counters was Vander. Tall was the first word in my mind. Silco was relatively tall, but Vander was a giant. He was well built, the only other person that could match him in muscle was Slim Jim. I could see his wrappings as he cleaned the glass. The same as the girl I saw earlier.
He's a boxer. Vander trained Vi to fight.
It wasn't the biggest leap of logic to make.
My footsteps clacked on the wood, close enough to the bar top now to be heard.
"What can I get you." Vander asked, not turning around.
"Just milk please. And please make it cold if you can."
He chuckled at my response. "Sounds like a story, that. Alright lad-"
My bartender for today turned around. He had a well-groomed beard, the hint of lines under his eye, new bags from the stress. A bit of stray hairs of gray could be seen. We locked eyes. There was a second as we took each other in. Then, he smiled.
"Let me get you that drink." Vander said.
He turned back around, grabbing a mug and getting it prepared. "So…I would offer something to go with it, but I'm afraid all I've got's alcohol."
I hummed at that. "It's fine by itself thanks. But you should think about mixing some melted marshmallows in it sometime." I listened as the music echoed in the bar. The sound waves pleasantly bouncing off the wood and reaching my ears.
"Heh, hard enough getting marshmallows down here, but it's an idea." He laughed. Vander placed the mug back in front of me. I saw the scars etched into his arm. Burns and cuts crisscrossed the meat.
Giving him my thanks, I took a sip. A comfortable cold slid down my throat. There was a brief aftertaste as it tried to hold on to my tastebuds, but it wasn't even close to unpleasant compared to the last milk I drank. A hint of something other that was in everything Undercity. But it was so common it was almost not worth mentioning. This was as close to fresh that you could get.
I smiled at him, a milk moustache now on my face. "It's good." I thanked him, he smiled slightly at the sight.
"I actually did come here for something else though." I began. Vander paused for barest moment before grabbing a towel and going back to cleaning.
"Oh?" He asked cautiously.
"Yeah so, you hear anything about any sewer racoons? I've been trying to find some for a bit, and now I'm desperate enough to ask around." To ask you.
He chuckled, glancing at me as he wiped down the counter. "Racoons in the sewers? I wouldn't be surprised; why you looking for them?"
"Well, I heard they're more than just animals, they can think like us! I want to be their friend." That was part of the reason. Sure, they would undoubtedly be useful, but to meet a race of sapient racoons? That sounded incredible, I really did want to meet them.
Vander didn't need to know more than that.
He paused his cleaning, staring down at the counter. "Friends…huh?" Vander murmured.
The man sighed, tossing his towel before looking back at me.
"I know who your father is, Vivek."
I froze
I never told him my name. He knew this entire time. I could feel my heart beginning to thump hard in my chest. I couldn't help but swallow. I glanced at the exit to my right.
He's behind the counter.
It'll take him time to get over.
His hands are humongous.
He could reach over and snap my neck with a single arm.
Vander held up a hand. "Easy lad, easy. I don't mean you any harm." He stared at me, "I just…didn't expect to see you." The Hound said to me.
I did my best to compose myself. "Well, I said I was desperate, didn't I?" I said with a bit of a shaky smile. I didn't expect him to know who I was. Maybe I should have, but as far as I was aware, I was born after Silco and him split ways, and they hadn't met since.
Unbidden, a question escaped my throat. "How did you know…?"
His scraped his hand down his cheek, sighing. "You're the spitting image of him. You…you have his eyes." Vander trailed off at that.
"It's eye now." I couldn't help but bite out. I respected his position, but this was a man that tried to strangle my father to death. He refused to fight. Stuck in complacency, he became the status quo that needed to be torn down.
Vander winced at that, staring off to the side. We sat there in silence. I tapped my finger on the counter, the only sound along with the hushed conversation. The Hound spoke first, "I've nothing against you because of who your father is. What's between us…that doesn't pass to you." He spoke lowly as to not be overheard.
Well since we're on the topic…
"Why…why did you do it?" I asked him hesitantly. I might only have one chance to ask this. I had to know his perspective.
"I'm…sure Silco told you all about that, huh?" His face twitched before he turned to me with a blank face. "Look, I'll spare you the grisly details. But…his actions would have led to even more death. The Undercity would have lost more than we did in the last uprising. He wouldn't stop, he would never stop. The cost was just…too much." Vander spoke almost as if he was whispering. His gaze far off, seeing into the past.
"Would it have worked? Would whatever terrible plan he had worked?"
"We…we didn't know…" He mumbled.
I couldn't help but feel a surge of indignation at that. "And so you just!-"
"We didn't know your mother was pregnant. None of us did."
That took the wind out of my sails. "…What?" I whispered in askance.
This time, he looked determined. Vander's eyes were clear with focus. "To answer your question, no, it wouldn't have worked. It would have been just another failure. But your mother…we didn't know Vienna was pregnant." I realized that this wasn't something he said just to throw me off. He was speaking as thoughts entered his head. This was something that he kept in for a long time.
I honestly didn't know how to respond to that. Vienna, my mother. I didn't know her really. She died about a year or two after my birth from sickness. Apparently, she was frail from the dust in the mines. Her previous energy depleted as she got older, the black dust clinging to her lungs. It only made since my birth would weaken her so much.
"You-you knew her?" It wasn't surprising to hear. "Dad never talks about her…" Maybe I should've focused back on the previous topic, but I knew where it would lead. Ultimately, Vander and Silco's ideals were incompatible. Someone was destined to die. And…it was rare I had the chance to hear about the woman who brought me into this world.
Vander smiled sadly at that. "Aye, she was a little spitfire back in the day." He held his hand sideways at his chest. "About yea-high, but always willing to pick a fight. She kept her hair short, complained if it ever got caught while we were running on the rooftops".
"Oh, Grandma Gutsy mentioned Dad used to be a runner."
He laughed, a deep rumble from his large chest. "Oh, you should've seen his skinny arse trying to pull himself up. Ah but, you've met Gutsy then? That's good, she'll take care of you."
I took another sip of the milk, savoring its chill. The atmosphere was lighter than it was before. I felt less of a crushing weight grabbing at my neck. There was something I had to ask him that I never could Silco. "Dad said that…Mom knew it would take a lot out of her for me to be born. He always said she made that choice happily. Do you think she really…"
"Absolutely." Vander said immediately, his face stern. "Once she made a decision, she always stuck to it, never once regretting it. I only saw her one last time after…after." He emphasized. I could get the picture. "But when I did, Vienna was just as determined as she was before she caught the Black Lung. I know she didn't regret it in the slightest."
It was reassuring to hear that. It was one thing to hear it from a parent, but from him? She wasn't someone I thought of too much, but she was still my mother. There was always that bit of 'what if' in my head.
I looked down at the counter, doing my best to not show too much emotion. "Thank you, I never knew if Dad was telling me the truth." But this led me to another question. I bit my lip, before raising my head back to eyesight. "If…if he didn't come back up from that river, what would you have done after finding out about me?" I asked him with both of my hands clutched around my mug.
"I would've looked after your mother, even if she would have hated me for it. And if she still fell sick…I would have took you in and raised you as my own." Vander said with certainty. Once again, he didn't hesitate.
He's a good man.
I don't regret how my childhood turned out; I truly did love my father. But I can only wonder who I would be if their positions were switched.
I would still tear down that wall.
I would, wouldn't I? I'm not the product of one life, I was the product of two. Nothing would change in the end. I would've come to the same conclusion that I did in this lifetime. Would he have tried to kill me too, once I did?
"'I have to ask…why? Why did you never fight back?"
Vander grimaced at that. He glanced up at a pair of wrought-iron gauntlets hanging above us. They were chipped and dented, clearly well used.
"I did." I could hear his knuckles pop as they slowly curled into fists. "Who do you think led the last uprising? I don't know what Silco told you, but there was a reason we got along so well. I was violent in my youth. You had to be to survive back then. I left a trail of broken bodies behind everywhere I went. And at the end of that path, I looked back and realized that it wasn't worth the cost."
"And if it was? If the price of freedom was worth it?"
He looked me straight in the eye with a severe expression. "Whatever ideas Silco's put in your head, trust me nephew, it's not worth it. When the people you love are bloody, held within your arms, when they beg for just a minute of more time." Vander shook his head, "that could never be worth it."
I stared into my mug of porcelain, processing the conversation so far. "For what it's worth, I don't think you're a coward. I see that now. Even if I disagree, I get why you stepped back." I said to him.
I couldn't do that, just step back. I already resolved myself to not back down. I would regret it if I did. Did that mean there was something wrong with me? That as much as the loss of life would hurt me, I would regret it more if I didn't try?
A large hand found itself on my head. I stilled at the motion. If he wanted to, Vander could smash my head right now, his rival's child. But he wouldn't, that wasn't the kind of man he was.
He wasn't Silco.
"Stillwater."
"Huh?" I glanced up to see him smiling softly.
"The racoons you're looking for, they're hold up in the sewers by the abandoned Stillwater factory." He took his hand off my head. "They could use more friends."
I stared up at him in surprise. "…Why are you telling me this?" I asked him.
Vander shrugged in response. "You seem like a good kid. I don't have a reason not to. Just be careful to not take a dive in the chemicals."
"That's true of everywhere." I said, a small smile appearing on my face. The conversation died down as he went back to cleaning. I took a few more sips of my milk, enjoying the atmosphere of the bar. Eventually, I got up from the stool, placing the gears needed to pay for my drink. "Thanks for talking to me, I always wanted to." I confessed to him.
He turned to me. Vander seemed more at ease than before. "No worries lad, it was a pleasure. Oh, and you can grab your gears, it's on the house."
I shook my head with a smile. "Nah, my dad taught me to always pay my dues." I began my exit. My small footsteps rapping on the polished wood. I took a deep breath, smelling the smoke and alcohol, and of a warmth I couldn't place. Vander said something to himself, but I couldn't hear it. I could only imagine what it was like to see both the past and the future in one face.
Melancholic.
I think that's the way I would describe it. What I was feeling right now, light but heavy in equal form. I was drained from today, I wanted to regain some energy before hunting down Deckard. I had accomplished my goal, at least.
I hoped that one day I would get the chance to talk to Vander again.

Powder was alone.
Everyone else left, so she was in her bed alone. She clutched the covers close to her, eyes staring at nothing. She tried to work on her bombs, but she just couldn't focus.
"I told you we shouldn't've brought her."
"I know Mylo…I know."
She ground her teeth together at the memory, turning around and placing her face into her pillow.
Why don't they get it? She thought to herself. It's not like they don't make mistakes. I can do things they can't. No one else can tinker like me!
Powder breathed hard out of her nose. She tilted her head slightly to look at one side of the room she shared. Mouser, her affectionately named explosive, sat on her nightstand, the well-used couch slouched down, and the other beds were in various states of organized. The walls had a few drawings lining it. There was the occasional creak from movement upstairs.
The whispers from the bar, and even further from the city, would inevitably find her. They always did.
Creak.
Powder cupped her ears at the sound, pressing her palms down roughly. She was starting to understand. That the noise bothered her more than others. That she was different. That the quiet noise was only audible to her.
She laid in her bed, the sound of her breath easing her tension.
The door to the stairs opened. There was a brief whine from the hinges as it was opened. The girl glanced up to see Vander. He began to walk down the steps, his bulk weighing on each step.
CREAK.
Powder sat up in the bed, rubbing her eyes a bit. "Vander?" She questioned.
Although it wasn't purposeful, Vander's heavy footsteps resounded through the quiet room. He sat on the bed adjacent to her own, his weight made it fold in on itself. "Powder…" His voice was quiet and non-threatening. "I need to know, where did you hide the goods you got from Piltover?"
She froze.
Powder glanced around desperately, her eyes not staying in one place for too long. "What do you mean? We said we lost it…" She said. They hadn't found a chance to sell it yet. It was still too hot, it wasn't worth the risk.
Vander sighed at that. "Powder…I know you didn't lose it. I know you lot still have it." His hands were on his knees, trying to be as gentle as possible. "Things are getting worse out there, we need to give the enforcers something."
The little sister didn't know how to respond. She thought of everything she could say. He was asking so earnestly. Her lips began to twitch, cheeks trying to stretch into a nervous smile. She looked away. "I…I promised them." Powder whispered, tears starting to pool in her eyes.
If she did this, it would be just another thing that she failed at.
"I know, sweetie." Vander reached over and put a hand on her arm. "But sometimes…to do the right thing, you have to go against your family's wishes."
She didn't want to disappoint Vi or the rest of her family. But she also knew that tension was high. Between the two, she listened to the authority closest to her.
She closed her eyes, the tears staining her cheeks. "…Okay." Powder decided.
She hopped off her bed before sticking her hand into her mattress. First, she brought our Mr. Bunny. She looked him in the eyes before placing him on the nightstand. Powder reached back in and grabbed the bag. Shyly, she handed it to him, head looking down at the floor.
Vander took it from her hands. He quickly opened it up and spied its contents. A mismatch of Piltover trinkets, and a few blue crystals. The same shade as that of the explosion topside.
He smiled at her before placing his hand on her head. "Thank you, Powder. You did the right thing."
Her lips remained pursed, twitching slightly.
Vander zipped up the bag and gave her a quick pat. He then made his way back up the stairs.
Creak.
As the door hinge squealed, Powder put her hand in her pocket. She felt the crystal that she didn't tell Vander about. The singular crystal that she always kept close. The girl rolled it in her fingers as she tried to bottle her emotions.
It wasn't until later that she found out that the bag wasn't the only thing being turned over to Piltover.
Vander would offer himself, the bag proof of his misdeeds, all to keep the peace.

Chapter 6: I've Got The World On A String

For clarity: that last scene happened the day after Vivek met Vander, not immediately after.
I'm trying to get a feel for how many action tags to use in dialogue. It's one of those things I want to get better at. Both dialogue and fight scenes. Those are the things I need to get better at the most. Both because of the setting, and for the story I want to tell. But I'm learning a lot of it is just experience.
I plan for next chapter to be the end of act 1, so no idea how large that's gonna be.
Thanks for reading.

It's The End Of The World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine)

Chapter Notes

Sorry for the delay in posting, I've been sick as a dog. Ironically enough, as the OG AN says, I was sick when writing this.

This is the longest chapter so far, and there hasn't been another one of this size yet. I'm fine if a chapter needs to reach around 10k if I feel like it needs to, but I'm a little hesitant with something like 20k, But again, I wrote this over a period of time longer than normal for me.

This is also the chapter where I feel like I start to hit my stride.

So, when I said I wanted to finish act 1 in a single chapter? Yeah, that may have been a mistake. Oh well!

I finished the Metaphor prologue demo and I was fiending for more, so writing helped to pass the week away. Normally, I would probably try to squeeze a small chapter out by Friday, but I was pretty sick there for a bit, I think I'll just take it easy until next week.

Again, don't want to overuse music links, but I guess that's part of the medium of fanfiction.

Also, this length is not going to be the norm. I just wanted to challenge myself to see if I could. And I think it might flow better as one continuous thing. From now on, I'm sticking to the smaller 5kish chapters.

"Why did you go to Vander's?"

I took a bite of my lunch. A grilled fish with a lemon on top. I didn't know the species, but it tased like a type of tilapia. The lemon was cooked on top of it, giving the juices that pooled together a distinct sour tang.

"Do you have any idea how many ways that could've gone poorly?"

The Undercity naturally being poorer than Piltover meant we didn't get the luxury of cultivated meats like steak. Fortunately, we were close to the sea, so fish was abundant even down here.

"What if someone other than Vander recognized you?"

Our focus on practicality led to some interesting cooking techniques. There was a type of fish gumbo where you placed a bunch of different fish in a pot. Boiled it, shook it a bit, and boom high class meal. There were all kinds of recipes like that. Just one of the ways that showed we had our own identity that was distinctively Undercity.

And in the future, it would be distinctively Zaunite.

"What if he tried to kill you?"

Okay, now that I had to respond to. I looked up from my meal, a fork held in my hand. "I think we both know he wouldn't do that." I said to him dryly. We were in the bottom office eating together. It was rare that his schedule would allow for it, but he made the time once he heard of my visit.

Silco was severe in his looks. He was annoyed, I could tell. To any other person that would probably be a death sentence. But I wasn't afraid of him, not even of his wrath, really. He would never hurt me. Of that I was sure of.

"Now, you know this. But were you certain of that before?" He asked me a bit sharply. His own plate of fish forgotten on the table.

The thought bounced around a bit in my head. "Not completely, but I feel like that was a reasonable guess to make?" I responded to him.

"You cannot bet your life on a what if." Silco glared at me. I felt like there was some hypocrisy in that.

"Aren't we already doing that?"

"There's a difference!" He scowled, the face pulling on his chemical burns. The result of this was his orange eye looking like it could cut through steel with its glare.

Is there really a difference?

I couldn't help but be defensive in response. "Well, I wasn't finding any leads. You were already busy, so I didn't want to take too much of your time away." I sucked in my cheek a bit, looking down to my meal. "I wanted to show you that I was capable of being trusted with something important."

It felt childish for me to admit, but it was the truth.

Silco sighed. He took a moment to grab a knife and neatly cut into his fish as he spoke. "Vivek, I already trust you. More than I do any other. But that also means your life is more valuable than any other. There are times where the risk isn't worth the reward." He paused a moment to take a bite. "You still have time to grow." He said lightly

"Showed initiative though, didn't I?" I grumbled out.

He huffed a bit. "Begrudgingly, I will admit you had the right idea."

We both went back to our food, a comfortable silence filled the room, only the rumble of water and the scraping of our cutlery was heard. After a minute, Silco slowly rotated his wrist to point at me with his fork. "Well, you have your location now. If you want something to occupy your time, why don't you go see your idea to fruition." The kingpin offered.

I took a bite of my fish. I could taste the lemon that was seared with a chem-grill, then how it was brushed with butter. Dairy products were actually pretty easy to get down here. And everything tasted better with more butter.

"I was already planning on doing that." I mumbled around my fork. "But speaking of, it's near the Stillwater factory. Isn't that the name of Piltover's island prison? What's the relation there?" I didn't realize the implications of the name until after Vander had told me.

Silco frowned, placing down his fork. "There's a reason for it. The factory was once owned by the prison. Some of the less dangerous prisoners were sent there to work off their servitude. Day in and day out they would work for no gain, their bodies were like their tools, used until they broke." I could feel the fire in his eye grow. "Eventually, the council got word of the prison's treatment, and the factory was shut down. Now, Stillwater only has complete control over its own island." He spat out.

"The prison's not only for Zaunites after all…" I remarked with a bitter tone.

He nodded, either in agreement or in approval at my use of the term Zaunite. I went back to my food, eager to get started with my hunt.

It was going to be a long day after all.

Silco drank from a cup of whisky as he lounged in his chair. A rare moment of quiet that he relished in. It gave him time to think. The ice clinked together as he sat down his drink.

He sighed, leaning back and staring blankly above him. Silco let the silence hum in his ears. Already reaching for independence…

The father frowned to himself. Unfortunately, he was always independent, even from a young age.

Silco thought back to times long past, when he would spend the nights growing his support base. Gaining respect and fear in equal measure. Bodies were chopped and fed into the waste, money was earned through rackets and drugs. He gripped firmly whatever territory he could. Not enough to strangle, but firm enough to guide, and for them to know that he could. He was the one who defined what it was to be a Chem-Baron. The first who could truly claim that title.

And every time he would return home, his son would greet him with a smile.

The fire inside him that yearned for independence burned at the thought. Resolved, he sat up straight, ready to begin his tasks for today. It was good then, that as soon as he did, the office door slammed open.

The door clacked hard against the wall. A woman with black hair rushed in, gasping for breath.

"Sir!"

Silco turned to her in quiet expectation, it was clear this was important. Ran caught her breath before giving her report. "Sir, it's Vander. He's heading somewhere, probably Benzo's, he's got a bag with him. We also got word the Sheriff's coming down." She looked him in the eyes, "we think he's turning himself in." She said severely.

He frowned.

Taking the fall, are we?

Silco had people watching Vander and The Last Drop constantly. It was how he knew immediately where his son had gone. He was trying to coax the perfect opportunity, but he hadn't yet had the chance to fully buy out the Sheriff's, Grayson's, second. A man by the name of Marcus.

It's sooner than expected, he thought to himself quickly. We aren't entirely prepared, but…

Silco felt a surge of anxiety in him at the thought of Vander being out of his grasp. Of never talking again face to face.

"Gather our fastest runners." He stood up sharply. "Stick to the smog, keep as many eyes away as possible. Corner him, delay him from moving, don't let him leave Benzo's. Grab the bag if you can, but only leave Vander alive! Kill the rest." He rapidly barked out; his eyes set in a glare.

Silco turned, not bothering to wait for her response, walking with purpose to the connected laboratory.

"I'll be right behind with Zeke."

Ekko watched as Vander sat on the chair placed in the middle of the shop

The boy was in the attic, watching in anticipation at the scene. Benzo leaned on the counter with arms crossed. The lights were dim, but the door was unlocked.

"Looks like the end of the line, Vander." Benzo said. His posture was forcibly relaxed, but he had a frown on his face. "Sure you don't want me to jump in instead?"

The Hound of the underworld shook his head. "No. It wouldn't have as much weight as it would coming from me. No one would believe it." Vander took a moment to glance him up and down, a small smile on his face. "Although, you're heavy enough already." He said.

"Oi fuck off!" Benzo barked out a laugh. There was a silence that followed. Vander looked down, folding in on himself a bit.

"Benzo…I need you to take care of things down here. I need you to keep an eye on the kids. There's no one else I'd trust with this." He asked with a morose look on his face.

Benzo scoffed, waving his hand. "Of course, it'll be a right pain, but…I'll keep things together while you're away. You can go knowing that for sure, Vander." He said, determination on his face.

Ekko was starting the understand just what was happening here. Vander was going to take the fall for the explosion topside. He was sacrificing himself.

For something I helped in…Ekko thought to himself.

"Thank you, Benzo." Vander hesitated, "and…if you see Silco's boy, watch out for him too, yeah?"

There was a snort. "Actually, Ekko's been bragging about an easy commission he had from a boy called Vivek. Wanted automated floss of all things." Benzo scoffed.

A nostalgic smile grew across Vander's face. "So, we ended up finding each other after all. If you can, introduce him to the rest of the kids. I'd like for them to be friends…how we all used to be." He said trailing off at the end.

"Hmm, sure. If the boy's not brainwashed that is. Getting that close to Silco's just playing with fire."

Vander sent a tired glare his way. "That's not just Silco's son, I can see the Vienna in him. Just give him a fair shake, alright?" he asked.

Below there was only a sigh in response. But above, Ekko's face was scrunched up in confusion, doing his best to put together the conversation so far. He leaned forward, doing his best to not displace the dust coating the wooden beams.

Wait, Vivek's dad, the industrialist, his name's Silco? Vander and Benzo know him?

Before Ekko could think more, the front door opened. And two enforcers stepped in. One was the same older woman that he reported to Vi about Vander working with. The other was a man with a gas mask on his face, clearly not adjusted to the air. He took it off as he entered, revealing a disdainful look.

"Vander…" The woman began in a low tone. "Why are you here?" She asked cautiously.

The man stood from his chair, grabbing a match and his pipe off the counter. "Hello Grayson, Marcus." He nodded at them respectively. Vander took a puff of his ground herbs, blowing it out of his nose. "I'm here to confess my nefarious deeds." Vander said with put upon smile.

Grayson glanced around the room. "Vander…I need you to keep the peace down here. If you're gone, the Undercity goes to the wolves." She stepped close to him. "Just give me a name, we can do it quietly." She said.

"Benzo can handle things here." The man in question lazily waved. "And besides…" Vander smiled, smoke huffing out of his mouth. "I've got proof right here." He said.

Vander grabbed the bag that was hung on the back of his chair. Opening it up, he displayed the Piltover made goods and the small blue crystals that shone inside. Shaking it a bit to show it off, the crystals lightly clinked off each other.

Grayson sighed. "Vander, you should not have shown us that." She said, a hand on her head.

Marcus glared at the bag. His arms were folded behind him. "The gems match the ones we saw at the scene of the crime. We have to take him in." He stated.

Grayson nodded, glancing at a nonchalant Benzo who studied his nails, before gazing at Vander. "I'm sorry, Vander. That things had to end like this." She said in regret.

Vander shook his head, taking a long draw of his pipe, the last one he would take for a while.

"Don't be, things have a way of working out."

Ekko could only watch on in horror.

Vander stepped out of the shop.

Grayson ahead of him was holding the bag while Marcus was behind. Vander was given some leeway by not being in cuffs. Benzo came as well, wanting to see his friend off. The last time they would see each other before they were even more gray than they already were.

It was humid, Vander could feel it in the air. This caused a green smog to cover the area as an artificial mist. It was low and thick at this time of day, giving little visibility. It was due to this that not many people were out in this area, leading to an eerie silence that was unaccustomed to the Undercity. It made the open space feel suffocating.

Vander turned to Benzo who was standing outside his shop. "Well Benzo," he reached out a hand for him to grasp. "I'll see you when-" Vander stopped.

Benzo raised an eyebrow while the enforcers watched on. Vander slowly raised his hand, backing up and looking around. "Do you hear that?" He asked.

Everyone looked around in confusion. The Hound's ears were famously better than most. Taking a moment to listen, a faint noise could be heard through the smog. It was a scraping sound, like something that was bouncing and scraping along the concrete.

A silhouette could be seen arriving from the mist to their left. A lanky man with tattoos covering his skin, sunken eyes, and track marks on his arms. One of which held a wooden bat that was punctured with nails. The bat was held lazily, dragged along with him.

To their right footsteps were heard. A man with a wide build and a crooked nose sauntered along, wearing a worker's overalls. He stood with purpose, blocking the way, raising his head and looking down at the group.

A large thud was heard, causing Vander to snap his head to the rooftop to his left. Crouched on top of a building was a man with dark skin and a scar across his neck.

"It was a trap!" Marcus screamed, whirling on Vander. His hand going to his pistol.

"No," Grayson shook her head. "These aren't his people…right, Vander?" She asked him. Eyeing the thugs warily. Her own hand reaching for the specifically designed gun on her hip.

Vander glared into the smog, fists popping as they curled together. "They're Undercity, but not mine. I have a couple of ideas whose they are though…"

"Well, I'll question you on that after we're out of this mess."

Vander stomped forward. "The hell is this!" He shouted. "What's all this going to accomplish?!"

As he moved a bit ahead, another man burst from the mist beside of him, previously hidden from view. A metal pipe was held in the goon's hands. He swung with all his force at Vander's head. One foot forward, leveraging the weight in the swing. He stepped in with the momentum. A twist in his wrist. It was a picture-perfect swing, worthy of any athlete.

Vander caught it with just a glance.

There was a dull thud as the force was distributed through Vander's hand. He pulled his arm back sharply, dragging the thug to him. Vander's other fist slammed into the thug's face, blood splattering to the back of his palm. Such was the force of his blow that the man was instantly knocked unconscious. Vander let go of the pipe, allowing the man to crumple to the concrete.

Vander glowered at the man, moving his fingers back and forth to regain feeling into his hand. He glared back at the rest of the thugs. "Well? We doing this or not?"

That was the cue for more bodies to appear from the green smog.

There was a mismatch of styles between the new group. Some with patchwork clothes and thin, others muscular and wearing mining clothes. All had a dark look in their eyes. Some, Vander even recognized.

Grayson quickly withdrew the weapon on her side and pointed directly to the sky. There was a hiss as a red flare fired from the single use flare-gun. The red beacon rose into the sky, piercing even the smog with its glow and heat. The smoke that followed it would paint the open-air red. It was an emergency beacon that all available enforcers were trained to respond to if seen.

And there were currently a lot of enforcers in the Undercity.

Vander could hear the gunshots of the Marcus and Grayson as they fired into the mist. The thugs were using it as cover from their line-of-sight. Benzo quickly picked up the pipe that had fallen and began clubbing any who came to close to him. For a brief time, enforcer and Undercity fought together.

Two goons ran at Vander together. He took two steps back in return. Vander gave a quick jab at the closest thug's face, breaking his nose and making him fall to his knees. The other swung his nail-studded bat down. Vander sharply side-stepped and kicked hard as he could, feeling something snap under his boot as the thug was launched into the other that was clutching his bleeding nose. The both of them dropped to the ground in a mess of limbs as he did his best to control his rage, to hold back his blows. A brief moment of calm gained, he glanced around the impromptu battlefield.

Grayson at first did her best to avoid kill shots. But only having so much ammo, she began aiming for vital organs. One man was already bleeding on the ground in front of her. Behind her, a man rushed out of the mist, crouched low as he ran toward her clutching a knife. Marcus saw and made to warn her, but Vander was faster.

"Grayson!" Vander shouted for her attention. Grayson spun around, ready to fire. The thug swung his knife in an arc. She fired; his knife would never reach her. But it would reach the bag that was strapped to her shoulder.

The knife cut through the strap right as the bullet punctured through the man's shoulder. As he fell back, so too did the bag fall.

It landed heavy.

The crystals and various pieces of metal smashed together inside the bag.

The man, now on the ground, quickly tried to reach for the bag. Briefly, he yanked the bag up.

BANG

Before a bullet turned his brain to mush. The bag halfway raised, fell to the solid ground once again.

Grayson swiftly grabbed the bag, holding it in one hand as the other pointed her gun. The fighting soon died down, the thugs left broken or dead on the pavement. Vander turned as he heard the sound of boots marching down the street.

"Sherrif!" A voice called, as new figures emerged from the fog. A squad of three enforcers with rifles on their backs.

"We came as soon as we saw the flare!" Another stated.

Anyone who was still trying to fight immediately stopped at the sign of more enforcers. The fight leaving them. Rifles were pointed at the fallen criminals as the enforcers came closer to Grayson.

Vander slowly raised his hands to show his compliance, glancing to Grayson. "Good," Grayson said, a sneer on her face. "No one move!"

She looked to Vander. "Benzo, Vander stay where you are. Enforcers, group up on me!"

One woman on the ground clutched her side. "Fuckin' Piltie pigs." she spit out, her head resting on the stone in defeat.

The enforcers started to gather. It was at this moment, as the tension was dying, that another presence arrived. The first sign was the rapid pounding of feet on the ground. There were quick glances around in confusion. The wet sound of flesh splashing on the slick ground echoing through the now quiet street. A few of the thugs paled in recognition.

Vander's eyes widened. The smog was displaced as something moved through it incredibly fast. Only faint purple lines were visible as it ran low to the ground. It broke through the mist, coming into visibility for a brief second before rushing to the mist on the other side in a blur.

"What the fuck!"

"The hell was that?!"

"Was-was that magic!?"

The enforcers were rattled at the sight. Marcus was openly gaping, but his grip remained firm on his pistol. "All of you, stay calm!" Grayson shouted, trying to restore order.

Benzo's eyes snapped back and forth, doing his best to track the blur as it flashed through the smog. Its movements were beastly, its bare feet pounded so fast it sounded like gunfire.

"Vander!" Benzo shouted, pushing the man out of the way. Right as he did, purple flashed through the space. Benzo hissed as red lines were carved into his arm.

Vander kept his fists raised in a boxer's stance, ready to duck down. His head was on a swivel. "You still alive, Benzo?" He asked, not daring to drop his focus.

"For now!" Benzo replied.

A few gunshots blared out into the smog. One of the enforcers losing his cool. "Don't fire without a clear shot!" Grayson ordered. She turned slightly to the side as she shouted, not seeing the blur closing in on her. Vander did, however. He opened his mouth to shout a warning, but this time, Marcus was faster.

"Sherrif!" Marcus screamed. He fired two shots at the figure behind Grayson. In his panic, one of the shots went wide into the smog. The other was much closer to her.

The bullet split the air before it hit the bag held in Grayson's hand.

Vander couldn't have known, but that was the last spark of kinetic energy that was needed to set off a crystal. This would cause a chain reaction inside the bag, and due to the unique acoustics of Undercity buildings, the sound of its reaction would echo to almost everyone currently outside of any building.

A bright blue flash was all Vander could see before the world went dark.

Pain was the first thing Vander became cognizant of.

"…ander!"

He fluttered his eyes open. There was something sticking to his skin.

"Vander!"

Ash. It was ash. There was an explosion

"Oi!"

A meaty hand slapped his face, bringing him into focus. He was on the ground, Benzo crouched on top of him with a panicked expression. Ash covered Benzo's face.

"I'm alive…" Vander croaked out. He wiped his eyes and tried to get his bearings. "The hell happened. Did-" He stopped, the air leaving him as if he was punched in the gut.

Ash glided through the air like snow. The smog was blown away, but in its place were particles of blue. The particles stuck to the ash, illuminating the area. The ground was charred and cracked. Glass from the surrounding buildings were broken. The door to Benzo's shop was blown through. The front half of the building was sagging down. Some of the thugs lay dead, burned or filled with shrapnel. Others limped off, no one bothering to stop them.

It was at this point Vander felt the trickle of blood coming from his right ear.

He tried to reach his arm up to cup it. "Argh." Vander hissed, looking in shock at the appendage. His right arm was a coated a coal black. Burned from the blast. He felt sore through his whole body. He gritted his teeth as he shook slightly from the pain. Benzo had a hand on his other shoulder, steadying him.

"There was an explosion. A bullet hit the bag, caused all this." Benzo grimly explained.

It wasn't hard for Vander to grasp. It was made even more clear by the blue in the air.

The crystals did this.

Vander frowned, "Grayson, is she?" He trailed off. Benzo only turned his head in reply. Vander followed and saw the epicenter of the blast. There wasn't even a hint of organs left. The ground was caved in, looking like it was disintegrated. Everything turned to dust instantly as it broke apart. Some of the other enforcers luckily still had bodies. One was torn in half, the force folding his body inward. The second a snapped neck and a twisted body. The third burned beyond belief. And Marcus…

"I-I didn't…"

Marcus was still alive. Albeit clutching his right eye as blood slinked through his palm, staining his white gloves. "I wasn't trying to…!" He screeched out. His face stricken with horror. "I was trying to save you…" Marcus whispered to himself.

Vander watched with wide eyes. Before desperate moaning caught his attention. A bit further away, there was a boy cratered in a wall. His hair was oily and clung to his skin. Purple crawled across his body, reaching eyes that were dilated to an extreme degree. He was incredibly skinny, but certain muscles were seemingly enlarged at random. And his hands and feet ended with sharp claws ripping from his skin unevenly. He gasped, jaw flapping as he twitched.

He's just a boy…he's just Vi's age! Vander thought to himself at the injustice in front of him. Benzo was helping him up, crouching beside him and letting Vander's weight fall on himself.

"Oh Marcus…what have you done." Another voice cut in. A very recognizable one.

The few remaining alive snapped their heads up at the sound. He walked through the dust. His three-piece Promenade suit was covered in ash. But that seemed the extent of the damage. He was presumably far enough away from the blast.

"Silco." Benzo growled to himself. Vander could only look on in shock, before glancing back at the boy covered in purple.

"You're behind all this?" Vander asked incredulity. "The boy's barely older than your son! What have you done, Silco!" Vander ground his teeth together, doing his best to replace the pain with rage.

"Vander." Silco drew out the name, before giving Benzo a single glance. "Wait your turn."

Silco reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a needle filled with purple liquid. He slowly began to walk to the boy. All the while he started to talk.

"Marcus…what a mess you've caused." He began lightly. "All this destruction." Silco swung his arm out. "All because you couldn't keep to the deal…"

Vander and Benzo glanced at the remaining enforcer.

Marcus was aghast at the accusation. "Are..are you crazy! This wasn't the plan! I was going to go to the bar today, I was going to grab them today!" Marcus said hysterically. "The Sherriff asked me to come with her before I could. I didn't do this, you did this. These were your men!"

Silco clicked his tongue. "I didn't cause this explosion, Marcus. You did. You forced my hand by not sticking to the plan, and now looks what happened…" Silco glared at him with his burning eye. "Look at your surroundings, smell the corpse ash in the air. This is what happens if there isn't a stabilizing influence in the Undercity. You were going to take Vander before my preparations to replace him were complete. Remember that, Marcus."

Marcus at this point was only gasping aloud, grabbing his eye in pain.

"That's bullshit!" Benzo suddenly stood up. "All of this is your fault; it always has been. I should've snapped your scrawny neck years ago!" Benzo rushed at Silco.

Silco only scoffed in response. With the needle in his hand, he stabbed it into the boy he had just reached. He didn't even look as he harshly injected the needle, staring as Benzo came closer. There was a large gasp of relief from the boy.

"Wait!" Vander yelled, trying to push himself up.

Benzo reached for Silco. An arm rushed by Silco's head. Then, blood covered Silco's face. The Chem-Baron made sure to keep his eyes locked with Benzo's. They were wide with pain and fright. The claws were buried in Benzo's neck, before they were harshly yanked out, splashing more blood.

"NO!"

"This is the consequence of a lack of control." Silco stated before glancing behind him. "Isn't that right, Zeke?"

Zeke didn't even look as he speared Benzo. His body was folded at 90 degrees, slobber dripping down his mouth and falling to the cracked ground. He jerkily raised his head. Vander watched in shock as his eyes were contracted in glazed ecstasy.

"…More" Zeke moaned out.

Vander shook his head. "Silco…this is monstrous. This is evil! I met your son! What the hell would he say to this!" He shouted.

The only eye that could, narrowed on Silco's face. "Take him," he said simply.

Zeke snapped forward at the command like a puppet with its strings pulled. Running on all fours, it was only a second before he was in front of Vander. The Hound tried to fight back, raising his good arm, but Zeke roughly grabbed his head and slammed it into the ground.

Vander felt his nose crack before he entered unconsciousness once more.

Powder was not having a good day.

"You did what." Mylo asked in the shock.

"Ohhh man, this is bad." Claggor said, a hand running through his hair as he paced around.

"Powder…why would you do that? Why did you just give it to him?" Vi asked desperately, pinching the brow of her nose.

Powder gripped Mr. Bunny tightly, as she swayed back and forth. She didn't dare to look into anyone's eyes. "He…he said he needed it. He asked me…" Powder whispered quietly.

~~Violet~~Vi threw her hands up in shock. "So you just gave it to him? Powder, we were going to sell that!"

"I told you this would happen, Vi." Mylo cut in, shaking his head. "She's a jinx!"

Vi sent her glare to him. "Dammit Mylo, let me handle this!"

"By giving her a pat on the back!"

Claggor walked between his siblings putting his hands on their shoulders. "Okay guys, can we not do this shit right now? Maybe think about what Vander's doing with it?" Claggor pointed out.

Powder felt trapped. Her siblings were bigger than her, they were crowded around her. She felt like she was drowning, she tightened her grip on her plushie. She didn't speak up. She kept her thoughts to herself.

Vander asked me. What else was I supposed to do? He said he needed to give them something. He said it was the right thing to do. I did the right thing!

She bit her lip and risked a glance up. "Vander said he had to give it to the enforcers…" Powder said.

The rest of her siblings' eyes widened in shock. Vi's hand slapped to her own forehead. "Oh fuck, Powder. He's turning himself in." She groaned out. "Mylo, Claggor, come on. We've gotta reach that idiot before they do, maybe we can talk him outta it!"

Shame and anticipation built up inside of her. "I-I didn't mean for him to-" Powder cut herself off as her throat began to close.

Vi only sighed. "Powder we'll talk about this another time. Right now we have to-"

It was at this moment that the door to the basement was slammed open.

All heads swiveled to the door. A small body rushed down the stairs and slammed himself into Vi, clutching at her desperately.

Vi looked down in shock. "Ekko?" She asked in concern. The boy was covered in ash, his clothes were singed, and he was trembling in freight. Her arms swiftly wrapped around him. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"B-Benzo's dead!" He sobbed out. "Enforcers tried to take Vander. They were ambushed! There was a monster, and it killed Benzo!" He rambled off as fast as he could.

The siblings all shared a quick glance. Vi crouched down, wiping some of the ash from his face. "Ekko," she began gently. "I need you to tell me exactly what happened, alright?"

Ekko sniffed and explained all that see saw and heard. Of the explosion he was almost caught in. The monster under control of a man called Silco. Who was apparently Vivek's Father. And of the warehouse Ekko had followed them to. The exact place it was located at.

The family was horrified. Mylo tapped his foot while scowling. Claggor clenched his fists. And Vi stayed still, taking it all in. Powder could only listen with wide eyes.

A blue explosion?

"Vivek's dad…that kid I met?" Vi murmured. She shook her head. "Whatever, that doesn't matter right now. What does matter is that we need to get Vander back." She looked in determination at her brothers. "Grab the tools, we're breaking him out."

They swiftly jumped into gear, grabbing the necessary tools for their mission. Rushing around the room.

"I'll come!" Powder stated, looking up hopefully.

"Absolutely not!"

"But I can help!"

Vi crouched down and put her hands on Powder's cheeks. "No, Pow-Pow. You're not ready for this. I can't risk anything happening to you. I need you to stay here, okay?" She asked her, pleading with her eyes. That was all she said before she quickly stood up and addressed the others.

"Guys lets go. Ekko, go home and wait for your parents. Powder, stay here." Vi ordered.

"Okay…" Ekko whispered out. His eyes bloodshot and wide in fright.

Powder only continued to stare, tears building in her eyes. Her bottom lip began to quiver.

I can help. I'm not-I'm not a Jinx!

There three siblings ran up the stairs to find their father. The only noise was from Ekko's sniffles and the ever-present hum of machinery. Powder's fingers began to twitch, the noise was unbearable. Ekko gave her a glance. "Bye…Powder," he weakly bid goodbye.

He wiped his eyes and made his way up the stairs. Trusting in his friends to finish the job. Too distraught from the day's events to think about anything other than going home. Too scarred to think of staying with Powder and offering her comfort. His mentor was dead, no one could blame him for that decision. He didn't look back as he shut the door behind him.

Ekko would regret that decision for the rest of his life.

Powder stood there in shock for a minute. Her breath started to come out quick. There were scribbles appearing in the corner of her eye. She jerked to see them, frightened by their appearance. But they were gone when she looked. They appeared again, just out of sight. They were lines carved into reality.

She screamed.

Powder fell to her knees, sobbing with her mouth open. The force of her cries left her gasping for breath. She slung her arm out, flinging Mr. Bunny across the room. She grasped her head, her forehead pushing into the floor. Powder felt like she was trapped in a prison of her own flesh.

She couldn't find the time to speak, breathing rapidly as she was. But she was thinking as fast as she could.

A blue explosion. It was connected to the crystals, but how. Her eyes widened, she calmed slightly.

It bounced! Powder thought hysterically. Before it blew up, it bounced!"

She quickly stuck her hand into her pocket and withdrew the gem. She threw it at the wall in front of her. It hit the wall hard, bouncing off it and clacking across the floorboards. Each bounce was accented by sparks of blue. Like lighting, the sparks coiled around the crystal, being released by the force of each blow.

Powder watched this with calculating eyes, glancing for what she could use. Vander's words echoing in her head:

"But sometimes, to do the right thing…you have to go against your family's wishes."

"I can help them." Powder said, her face softening in relief. The lines disappearing from her vision.

She would show them she wasn't a jinx.

It was cloudy. I was pretty sure it was going to rain today. It had been recently after all.

I was pretty low on the Sump level. But sky could actually be seen here. Most of the Undercity was under sea level, directly underground. But this land was geographically crisscrossed with ravines, leading to the rare cracks in the stone sky that gave a us a glimpse of the light.

It was because we were placed under these ravines that we sometimes had an interesting phenomenon happen. Water would gather at the top of the ravines. Then, over time paths would be eroded down its' sides. 'Fresh' water would gush down these paths.

This led to natural waterfalls at the edges of these ravines.

It was a beautiful thing to witness, but it also was difficult on the infrastructure. As a consequence of this, the Undercity had an impressive water diversion and sewer system. The sewers were connected to all the Undercity, even the Promenade level above ground.

That was why I had such a hard time finding the Whumps. There were a lot of places where the sewer pipes were big enough for me to climb in. And those pipes could lead to anywhere. I underestimated just how hard it would be to find them.

Luckly, I was now on the right track.

I was walking downhill. For once, there was dirt instead of stone beneath my feet. It was strange to feel the slight bounce again. At the top of the hill was Stillwater Factory. A pointed monument to slave labor, it was surrounded by rusted fences. The factory's pipes drained down to a small pond. One of the many in this area. There were numerous drainage pipes connected to the pond. Not all from this factory, but from any number of areas. This place was once of the designated waste dumps.

The area was more open than I would expect. Only a few rusted factories and such dotting the land. It looked to me like a small valley of filth. The pond itself was a sickly green, with bits of yellow splashed in it. Even now, a bit of black sludge dropped from a pipe into the pool. There was some driftwood stuck in the middle of the pond. Bits of black cloth held desperately to the top of the wood. The black was bleached white where it met the slime.

Maybe once it was a vibrant pool made by one of the waterfalls. But now, it was nothing more than a swamp, a poisonous bog that dragged all it touched into the muck.

My nose curled as the fumes hit me.

This is the most disgusting shit I've ever smelled.

It was like rotted eggs and sulfur. It stung my eyes, and I could taste it in the air.

There were a lot of these swamps around, so I sent Deckard and the gang around to check each one. I was slowly closing in on my racoons.

I walked down closer to the pond. I would expect it to be about waist high at its deepest, but the filth made it so the water was thick. Like chunky salsa that barely moved when you turned the bottle.

I reached the edge of the pond, the dirt turning to mud. I glanced around at the pipes of various sizes. Some went down the hill, some cut through the hill. I brought my head to one of the pipes to look inside.

"Helooo?" I called. And immediately regretted it when the smell that hit me was somehow worse than my surroundings. "Ugh," my face twisted in disgust.

I sighed, keeping my nose pinched. "Well, that was a bad idea." I said nasally. I was surprised anyone in this city even lived to old age. Maybe we were just built different? The Whumps certainly were.

I continued this process, checking pipes, briefly looking in, then retching in disgust. Eventually I walked to a large pipe. One that was big enough for me to stand in. The ground here was soggy, the soil was suffused with dirty moisture.

"The hell you doin' here, Sumpsnipe?" A voice questioned

I stopped in my tracks.

Why does this keep happening to me!

Backing up a bit, I looked at the other side of the pipe. It was large enough to hide a group of three teens, sitting on some cardboard smoking on something. Two boys and one girl. Their clothes were ratty and patchwork. The one who spoke up had a beanie on his head and a piercing in the middle of his bottom lip.

I gave them a practiced smile. "Hello! I'm just exploring with my older brother and his friends!" Let them know I'm not alone, that there's a group probably their age around.

The boy snorted. He stood up lazily, slowly walking to me and eyeing me up-and-down. "You're dressed pretty well for a gutter rat." He said. The other two started to stand up as well. Looking at me like a bunch of hyenas. I took a slow step back.

I'm not even wearing my suit right now. That was to prevent this kinda shit from happening!

I was wearing my regular running outfit with my red handkerchief tied around my neck. It didn't look any better than what you'd find on any random Undercity kid.

But it was relatively clean. And there were no visible holes. I looked different from the absolute poverty that some here lived under.

"Well, my dad always makes sure I'm clean if they get dirty." I said with a hand on my hip. My father's got some level of influence, don't fuck with me.

Wait, why am I even trying subtext with these idiots?

The three were starting to close in on me, my smile got a brittle edge. "Nice meeting you guys, but I gotta get back to my friends. Bye!" I quickly waved and spun around. Before I could take two steps, a hand snaked around my wrist and grasped it tightly.

"Nah, hold on, little bro. I see you got a pouch on your side." Beannie boy stated. He kept a tight grip on me as he smiled, broken teeth peeking through. "Mind if we take a look?"

My small currency pouch was clipped to my belt. It was always good to be prepared, but there was no such thing as 'no risk' in the Undercity. There was always the opportunity for things to go wrong.

I tried to yank back, but he didn't let me go. I huffed at him, losing my smile. "I'm just looking around. We don't have to do this." I said to him.

The girl giggled. "Do what? We're just taking a look."

The other boy offered his cigar, burning in old paper. "Just take a hit. Relax a bit…and open that pouch."

I could fight them.

But I would lose, maybe die.

I can drop the pouch.

They could just beat me anyway.

I could run, yell for Deckard's gang.

They would catch me. They didn't look healthy, but they were bigger, I was still gripped. Worse, if I ran, I would show my gang weakness. That I was a scared little boy who couldn't be relied on.

They wouldn't respect me then.

I could scare them.

The pistol hidden under my shirt had six shots.

I took a sharp breath.

But that was just an excuse, wasn't it? The truth was, I didn't want to kill these kids. They were clearly down on their luck. Sticking up some random kid was just a bit of fun for them. They were too close; things could go wrong from flashing the pistol.

It was the same with Zeke. The same with Deckard. 'Oh, I could kill you but I'm not.' I didn't want that. To treat life like it had no purpose, that there was no value in their deaths

But there is value here, isn't there…

That's right. I'm here for the Whumps. To prove to myself and Father that I'm capable. There was a reason for me to be here. I had plans for the racoons. We could grow our business empire with their help. There were so many ideas in my head for them. I wanted to be their friend. There was so much we could learn from one another. So many ways we could coexist…

And these three were standing in my way. I needed to take this next step. They were preventing me from building the Zaun I wanted.

But they're just kids.

I started to blink a bit. Both from the stinging air and the feeling welling within me. "Please…" I begged them. "Just let me go."

It was just so sad…I couldn't help those tears that started to build in my eyes.

The lead boy barked a laugh. "What, are you crying?" He asked, looking back to his friends. "Look at this shit. How did you even make it down here?"

"Because if you don't…I'll have to kill every single one of you." I said in a mournful tone.

I couldn't see the other two's reaction as beanie boy yanked me close. "The fuck you think you saying, brat!" He demanded of me. He was clearly put off. His nose scrunched up in anger. The smell of his breath a dire mix of rot and smoke.

I kept stalling, I always drew it out. I always talked a big game, but now here was another brick in my path.

I could remember Sevika's words, "Don't think, trust your instincts."

There was only ever one way for this to end.

I took a breath.

My dominant right arm was gripped. That's why it was a good thing I was close.

My left hand ripped out the pistol from its holster. I pressed it to his knee and fired.

BANG

"AHHH!" He let go of me immediately, his hands clutching as his shattered kneecap as he fell to the wet ground. I pointed the gun to the girl. My right hand coming up to brace the gun. I didn't have enough time to switch hands, I had to be fast. The second shot missed her, the pistol kicked in my hands, the feeling like a giant flicking my palms.

I let out the breath.

I was taught it was best to fire when easing my breath. The third shot hit. The bullet crunched through her brain before she could react. Her face forever stuck in a state of shock. She fell backwards and rolled down into the swampy waters.

The other boy ran as fast as he could as soon as I fired the first shot. I steadied myself and fired again. It missed, kicking up some dirt. I shot again quickly, this one going wide into the pool. I didn't want him to get away, I committed to this, I had to see this through.

I could only assume it was because I held the gun in my non-dominant hand, but I was never the best shot anyways. I took a shaky breath…

And let it out.

It struck the back of his leg. The boy fell face first into the dirt. He screamed as he tried to claw forward. I took a few steps towards him to get a better angle. I pointed to his head.

BANG

And all six shots were spent.

I took deep slow breaths to calm myself. It was the first time I've killed since Jagger. I turned around to see beanie boy trying to crawl away using his other knee as a crutch. He looked terrified. I had no bullets left, but what was the point in leaving this half done?

This place was filthy, there was a hole in his knee. Muck and shit would get into it. At best, it would be amputated, worst, he would have an excruciating death. But even more than that, I decided their deaths were necessary. Was my resolve so half-assed that I wouldn't follow through when it was convenient for me?

Vander said my mother always stuck to her decisions.

Holstering the gun, I walked slowly to him; our positions now reversed from earlier. I untied the tight handkerchief from my neck. It was deceptively long, more of a scarf really. I crossed my arms as I grabbed each end. I didn't have anything else on me, and I wasn't strong enough to keep his head underwater.

He looked back to me with wide eyes. "Wait-wait-wait!" I kept my face placid. He only redoubled his efforts to flee, taking wild glances back at me. "What the fuck is wrong with you! I'll leave bro! I'LL LEAVE!"

He tried to push himself up the hill, the mud sticking to his nails. In just a few heartbeats I was behind him. I roughly wrapped the cloth around his neck and uncrossed my arms.

I pulled as hard as I could. He started gurgling as I squeezed his windpipe. I pinned my knees around his torso for leverage. He tried to scratch at my arms, before he bucked his hips and twisted his body. The force of it caused us to roll downhill.

But I didn't let go.

His weight crashed into mine multiple times as we rolled. Each time I fell like I was being made into a pancake. I could feel bruises forming just from the brief contact. Finally, we hit the bottom. He went into the water face first. He heaved and pushed his body up, pulling his head out of the water. I grit my teeth as hard as I could, my arms shaking as I tried to stay on.

He tried to move his body to pin me under water. But his movements were so erratic that I couldn't be. For a second, he seemed to give up, lurching down into the water.

Then he thrashed.

He moved chaotically, a low keening from his throat. Such was the force of his flailing that the sludge was pushed into the air. A few bits landed on my check. I could feel the slimy consistency, but that was all. However, when it landed on my hair, it burned.

I hissed feeling fire run down my scalp. Tears in my eyes from the stink and a complex mix of emotions. I didn't' know how long I held on. A minute, maybe more. But eventually his movements slowed, before his body finally relaxed. I kept my squeeze for a second just to be safe. And then I let go.

I pulled my handkerchief from him, breathing harshly. Each gasp was met with a mouthful of acidic rot. I looked down at my cloth, bunching it up to a ball and using to wipe my hair.

I only managed to smear it.

I looked to his corpse. Now that it was done, I felt hollowed out. I didn't feel anything. Like a matryoshka doll with nothing inside it.

I dropped my handkerchief into the muck and turned to make my way back to land. When I did so, I could see Deckard staring at me in shock. The rest of gang right behind him, sliding down the hill and catching up.

He came to help me, even with his dislike?

I smiled at him. The empty inside being replaced with warmth. "Thanks for coming for me, I appreciate it." I said as I reached the shore.

He nodded slowly. "Yeah…we heard some shots, so we…came running." Deckard finished, waving his arms awkwardly. The rest of the gang came down as well, a look of shock or fear on their faces.

Goon #3 was wearing a cloth jacket I noticed. Maybe I wasn't thinking straight, but I couldn't help but ask anyway. I pointed to her, making her still. "Can I have your jacket?" I asked.

She blinked, looking to Deckard cautiously. "Uhh…sure?" Goon #3 replied.

"Oh, sorry. I'll pay you for it, it's only fair." I reached for the small pouch on my side, ignoring the way they tensed. "Here ya' go." She hesitantly took off her jacket and reached for the pouch.

Jacket now in hand, I folded it and wiped my head, doing my best to clean my hair. Whatever sludge was in my hair was thick like gel. It stuck to my strands and scorched my scalp. Only a small part on the right side of my head seemed free of it.

Jacket now thoroughly ruined, I dropped it to the dirt. I grimaced at the feeling in my hair, I could only wipe it so much. I needed to make sure to wash it out good later. I still had a job to do for now.

Humming to myself, I decided to act like a leader and make this a learning experience.

I pointed to the body halfway in the gunk. Its eye bulging from its skull. Filthy water draining down its gaping mouth.

"Don't ever forget, guys. This is what we're fighting to prevent. The injustice that Piltover forces on us." I said with a determined look on my face.

Deckard just looked at me with his mouth open, before nodding tightly. "We won't forget, right guys?" He asked, turning to his friends. They all hastily nodded together, various looks on their faces.

I wanted to win their hearts. But for now, I would make do with their fear.

Vander woke up to water splashing in his face.

He coughed, shaking his head. Vander was chained to a chair that was bolted to the ground. Looking up, he saw he was in what looked like a factory or warehouse. He felt like he took a beating from a dozen enforcers. His charred arm screamed at him, tied behind him as it was.

He took a glance up. There were some individuals on the catwalk in front of him. A few familiar faces, such as Jeryk, Donnie, and Sevika.

At the front of the group was his brother, Silco.

Vander glared at them, scoffing and looking away. "That's what this is? You've made a mess of things, Silco." He said.

The man in question walked to him, glaring down. "This was always going to happen. You just stuck your head in the sand and pretended it wasn't."

Vander looked back at him, disgust apparent on his face. "So what's the plan? Fight back and get killed?" He huffed, "enforcers died today, you know. There's going to be a reckoning, things are going to get worse. But you never cared about that, did you?" He said with mocking tone.

Silco's face twitched to a frown. He crouched down to look him in the eyes. "I have always cared, brother." The revolutionary said in shock. His eyes burning into Vander's own. "Why would I do this if I didn't? The dream we shared; I believe in it with my entire being. The opportunities that were always taken from us. Right now, we can make it so our children can have what we did not." He spoke with passion in his voice.

Vander huffed, the action causing him pain. He could feel the sores across his whole body. "My children changed me. I thought it would change you too." He whispered to himself, "but I guess I was wrong."

Silco shook his head in reply. "No, Vander. Vivek did change me. When she told me I was going to be a father…I knew that the time for waiting was over. Everything I build, I do, for him. I am building him the nation of Zaun." He declared this fiercely, his hand grasping to a fist.

"You'll get him killed is what you'll do! He'll fight and then he'll die! What's the point of that, Silco. At what cost will you win!?"

"You don't get to lecture me about my son! You tried to take me away from him!"

Vander sighed at that, looking away. "I know, and I've regretted it every day of my life since. But Silco," He locked eyes with him. "I didn't know Vienna was pregnant. After he was born...I should've tried harder to reach out. I shouldn't have let us grow apart."

"Would it have made a difference?" Silco asked with an edge in his voice. He moved closer to him, glaring with all his being.

Vander said nothing in response. However, he made sure to never look away, staring resolute.

Silco scoffed, standing up from his crouch. "Of course it wouldn't. You know…for a time I hated you, but you still had my respect. But now, you lick their heels happily…"

"I was trying to keep the peace. To keep the Barons from causing chaos! I did what I had to do. Or what, is that not necessary enough for you?"

"Oh, I understand necessity." Silco swung his arm, like an actor presenting a play. To the boy on the far edge of the catwalk, leaning on a wall. Zeke took rapid breaths. His body shook, drool dripped from his mouth. There were no purple lines on him, but there were clear rents in his skin. Zeke was close to death.

"It's always so barbaric, the base violence necessary for change."

Vander snarled at him. "Look at that boy. This is evil, Silco! It's monstrous! What would Vivek say if he saw this!?"

Silco narrowed his eye at him. "He would agree with you. But there is a purpose to this. We don't need to destroy Piltover, just bring them to the table." The kingpin said, walking close to him. "Sometimes, it takes a monster to gut one."

The Chem-Baron caressed his scar.

"You taught me that, Vander."

I made my way through the sewer pipe.

I told the others to stay behind and guard my back. I would order someone to stay after taking a specific amount of steps. This way, we could ferry messages in a hurry. I made clear to them that I was trusting them with the location of the Whumps. And that it was on a strictly need to know basis.

The inside of the pipe was damp. At this point, I forgot what a good smell even was. There were a mix of odors so pungent I didn't even bother trying to decipher it. I walked around bits of trash and puddles. It was dark, the only light coming from the small device held in my hand. A cylindrical device that looked like a mix of a mini lantern and a flashlight.

I had walked for some time and now I was finally alone. My scalp was still sore, but at least it didn't seem to be getting worse. The gunk in my hair was like clay. I'm sure I looked like the world's most shitty greaser.

I walked. A bit afraid a clown would pop out to spook me.

Or worse…Fiddlesticks. I frowned to myself.

God forbid. We had enough to deal with already.

After some time, I came upon a cut in the pipe. It was a passage that seemed artificially carved. Bits of the metal were cut crudely and uneven. Some had small teeth marks in them. The path was just large enough for me to crouch through.

I sighed and took the plunge. I crawled through the passage, doing my best to not snag on the rusted metal. It was only a short shuffle before I entered a room. It seemed like another part of the sewers. But it was one that was expected to be visited by people, given that there were thin red lights lining the area.

It looked like a large room with a good bit of trash strew about. Boxes and mountains of cloth. What looked like pizza boxes used to make a cardboard fort.

As I stood up, glass crunched beneath my foot. Instantly, there was the sound of movement to my left. A can being displaced and bouncing down a hill of trash.

I thought I saw a tail.

I squatted back down slowly. My hands raised in peace. "Shh, It's okay." I said softly. I carefully reached into my pocket, pulling out a small cheese wheel covered in plastic. Deckard called me crazy for making everyone carry one. "I just want to say hello."

I dropped the cheese wheel and shuffled back, waiting patiently for my prey.

Slowly, hesitantly, agonizingly. It poked its snout out, twitching as it sniffed the air. Then cautiously came out of its hiding place.

It was a racoon.

This one's body had grey fur, and a spotted mask covering the white fur on its face. Its tail was long and its body short with puffy fur. But its eyes were the most striking part. They were large and orange, with slit pupils. Its face seemed to show emotion as it moved. It wasn't an uncanny movement however, it fit naturally on its face. I could only imagine this was what seeing a Disney character in real life was like. It was adorable.

Eyeing me all the way, it waddled to the cheese. It hesitantly reached over to take a nibble. Not even caring about the plastic. There was a brief pause after the first bite, before its eyes widened.

It jumped back on it rear, before picking it up in both paws and chowing down. In a second it was gone and the racoon panted happily. A large tongue hung out of its mouth and its eyes sparkled.

It made some high-pitched chittering noises, some heads quickly popping out of holes. The racoon kept speaking, causing a wave of furred creatures to come out the crevices and nooks. Dozens of them came out, fur all in different shades. Some black, brown, red, white. But all had a white face, splotched black with spots in a mask.

I was overwhelmed, watching with wide eyes as they rushed towards me. The wave reached me. Some were chittering, running in circles around me. One felt my pulse on my hand, another climbed up my shoulder. I found out immediately that they stuck their large tongues out when they were excited.

"Haha! Hi guys!" I smiled joyfully. "I'm Vivek! And I'm here to be your friend!" One Whump stood up on a pile of trash, making motions at me and jumping up and down. It was strangest game of charade I've ever seen, but at least it confirmed these guys were sapient.

"You guys must be hungry down here, huh?" I took another piece of cheese from my other pocket. Before I could throw it, a Whump snatched it from me. It tried to take a bite before another ripped the cheese from its paws. The wheel fell to the ground, several racoons getting on all fours and snarling at each other. Teeth bared as drool dribbled down their fangs as they nipped for a chance at the cheese. They were hissing at each other as I got up.

"Hey!" I called, clapping my hands together hard, stinging my palms. "Fight over it and I won't give you anymore!" They definitely understood me, they relaxed reluctantly after I spoke. I grabbed the cheese, breaking small pieces off and handing some out bit by bit. Some grabbed it, a few just watched, others ate directly from my hand, their sharp teeth giving my fingers little cuts.

"You guys are family, right? Family shouldn't fight each other." I said wisely, smiling a little as they devoured from my palms. "But I've got more where this came from, don't worry."

"Stick with me, and you'll never go hungry again."

Vi fought with desperation. Vander's old gauntlets on her fists.

She sent a check hook to the thug in front of her, using his movement against him. Her fist slammed into his mouth, knocking some teeth out.

"How's it looking!" She asked not daring to look back.

"Almost got it!" Mylo shouted in response.

She could hear the thumping of Claggor's hammer on the walls, securing their exit. The sound of Vande's reassuring voice.

"Take a breath Mylo. Do it easy-do it gentle. Don't try to hurry."

Vi focused on the man carrying a bat coming her way. He roared, swinging in a wide arc. She ducked her head into her guard, bent her upper body, and rolled under the attack. Rising and twisting her hip, she crashed her gauntlet into his nose.

CRUNCH

And shattered all the cartilage. The force of the blow knocking him clean off the catwalk. Vi swallowed, her shoulders heaving. Across from her were the Chem-Baron, Silco. The traitor, Sevika. And the would-be monster, Zeke.

Sevika made to move forward, but Silco held up a hand to stop her. Zeke was on the ground, purple mixed with blood flowed from his mouth as he vomited. "Please," Zeke begged. "By Janna, I need more." His voice was scratchy and hoarse.

Silco withdrew a needle from his front pocket, an angered look on his face. He dove the needle into the back of Zeke's neck, thumbing the plunger, purple Shimmer hooked itself into his body. "Kill." Silco coldly ordered.

"GAH!" Zeke's body twisted and snapped. No longer did muscle grow, the skin now pulled tight against him. He shakily rose, his limbs becoming gangly and long. His skeleton stretched, claws regrew, opening his skin to rivets of blood.

Vi watched in disgust and horror. She glanced back at the shutter door to the room, shakily taking a step backward. At first, he slowly lurched forward, a groan coming from his mouth. Before a screech suddenly ripped from his throat. He rushed at her on all fours, impossibly fast.

Vi reacted on instinct, swinging her fist out. On the catwalk, there was only so much space to move. Leaping towards her, there was no room to dodge. And so, the punch connected. The spindly Shimmer monster being knocked to his back a few feet away.

Without thinking twice, she ran into the room, and quickly slid closed the shutter door.

The boxer pressed her back against it, breathing heavily. "How's it looking!?" She demanded, rapid thumps pressing against the door. Zeke was throwing himself against it again and again.

Claggor rammed his hammer through the bricks with a grunt. The hammer punched through, getting stuck on the outside. He yanked it back, pulling some bricks. Kicking hard he knocked more loose. Creating a path to freedom. "We're good!" Claggor yelled in triumph.

Mylo breathed through his nose, his eyes not blinking as he focused on the pad lock. A turn clockwise, a slight twist…

Click.

And Vander was freed.

He groaned as his arms were free of the weight. Vander's uncharred arm came to rest on Mylo's head. "You did good, lad." He said with a smile.

"I-I did it..." Mylo whispered to himself, staring to laugh. "I actually did it!"

Vi gave a huff of amusement as she made to say something. The new bruises on her face sore from her slight smile.

Her mouth was only slightly open before the door exploded on to her.

Powder was flung through the air by the explosion.

A brilliant blue that swallowed everything. The noise was tremendous, but it felt like she was in silence.

For the first time in her life, all the noise faded away in one glorious moment. She never understood just how omnipresent it was until it was gone. She watched that moment stretching into infinity, as she realized she gained a piece of herself she never knew was missing.

For the first time in her life. She was successful, useful to the one's she loved. The bomb had worked, her ideas come to life. Proof of her competence. That she was capable and could be trusted.

How could she not fall in love with such a sight?

For the first time in her life, she was at peace.

Vi screamed.

Both from pain and sorrow. Vander had risen from the chair. Even down an arm, he fought for her. A savage brutality as he quickly took down his opponents. Every movement measured by cold calculation.

And then he fell over the edge. Stabbed in the gut.

She twisted behind her, crawling out the wrecked door on top of her. She etched the scene into her mind forever. Her brothers were dead.

Claggor had shrapnel lodged in his head, his goggles cracked. Mylo had pipe lodged in his lung. Blood pooled from it and his mouth. He wasn't fully dead yet, still choking and twitching, as he stared up glassy. Blood started to fall from his nose as his body lost motion.

She sobbed. A fire started and heated her skin, stealing her breath. But she took desperate gulps of air. Each one dedicated to her crying. Vi could only stare. She couldn't comprehend anything else. She didn't no what to do. Her mind was overwhelmed.

A thump drew her attention to the catwalk.

Vander, still alive. Glowing with Shimmer. His muscles expanded to an unhealthy degree. An eye popping out slightly. The charred skin on his right arm stretched and ripped. It was slick with Shimmer.

Zeke was somehow still alive. Like wraith that clung to life. He was reduced to a beastly mindset, thinking of nothing more than the enemy in front of him. The Shimmer eroded him from the inside out. Zeke screeched at Vander.

Vander only growled back in return.

She watched as Zeke leaped at Vander, faster than she could track. Zeke's muscles tearing as moved faster than he ever did before. He buried his feet into Vander's chest and carved into his shoulders, before bouncing off and dodging Vander's grab. He landed on all fours. Vander hissed at the pain but made no move forward. Only waiting.

Zeke jumped again, landing, clawing, then bouncing. He jumped off the guardrails, continuing his momentum. They squeaked at the force. Zeke leapt to the air; claws primed to dive into Vander's head.

Vander only waited for his chance. He just needed one grab.

The speed at which Zeke moved was inhuman. To the average person, there was no way to counter it. They would barely be able to track it, let alone respond to it. Even a mage, those deemed outside of the everyday, would balk at such a foe. Only those that had the potential to be labeled 'Champion' could hope to match this level of combat. Zeke's dive was immaculate. Like a cheetah pouncing on its prey. It was a picture-perfect pounce, worthy of any predator.

Vander caught it with a glance.

His one good arm grabbed Zeke. His hand large enough to grasp both of Zeke's spindly legs. Vander roared. He swung Zeke with all his might. Into both guardrails, sending them flying. Again, behind him, causing the metal to creak. And then again, in front of him. The screws in the catwalk squealing in strain.

Zeke was dazed limp like a noodle. But that wasn't enough for Vander. Lifting him by his lower body, he was halfway raised. He stomped on Zeke's head, pinning to the floor. Roaring, he pulled as hard as hard as he could, while keeping his head pinned.

SQUELCH

A horrible, wet, ripping sound overpowered the flames. Zeke's body was torn in half as his head popped like a grape.

Vi's hands came to her mouth, doing her best to not puke. Her eyes wide and stinging from the smoke. Vander looked her way and jerked his head back at the terrified look on her face.

The building started to shake. "We need to go!" A feminine voice said. She could see Sevika pull Silco away, both her arms wrapped around his shoulders. Silco was pulled into the smoke, a look of shock on his face.

Debris started to fall from the room she was in. She covered her head as sharp points started to hit her.

Vander glanced between her and the Smoke where Silco was pulled to. "SILCO!" He roared in anguish before rushing to VI. The ceiling started to fall right as he reached her.

He braced his body over hers. There was a thunderous sound as it fell on top of him. Vi was coiled underneath him, staring in shock. Something sharp pierced through Vander's shoulder. A drop of blood landed on her face.

He grunted, his entire body shaking as he held the weight. "I've…always been proud." Vander said with strain. "Take-care of Powder-take care of yourself." Vi watched as he ground his teeth together, struggling with his entire being. He pointed his head to the hole in the wall, just by Claggor's corpse. The path was still open to the outside, but not for long.

"You need to go."

Vi shook her head tears streaming down her face. "Vander please, I can't-"

"Go!" He snarled in her face.

She shut her eyes tightly before crawling out from under his body. Vi clawed her way forward, hands grabbing the debris and pulling herself onward. Past Mylo, past Claggor, following the smoke as it billowed out of the hole. It was like it formed a path to her freedom. She stood at the exit, looking back to her father. He stared at her with sad eyes, conveying what words could not.

She screamed in anguish and jumped from the building.

Vi was a few stories up. She twisted and grabbed a pipe that framed the building. Vi slid down it before kicking off it and rolling to spread the kinetic energy. She hit the ground rolling, her body scraping on the stone road. Vi lay on her back, staring up at the dark clouds, and at the fire. For a minute it roared.

And then there was explosion from inside.

She covered her face and sobbed.

"Vi! It worked, it actually worked!"

Vi sat up, her head turning to her sister in fright. Powder had a wide smile on her face, looking all the while as a kid with a new toy. She understood in an instant what had happened. The explosion that came out of nowhere.

"You…you did this…?"

Powder looked uncertain, her excitement starting to dampen. "Where's…everyone else?" Powder glanced at the building. Her cheek twitched as if she wanted to smile. She grabbed her arm with the other, clutching it tightly.

"Powder…what have you done?"

Powder's eyes began to water, her jaw shook. She couldn't stay still, she shook and twitched. "I-I just…wanted to help…I only wanted-I wanted-"

Vil's sadness turned to rage. The idea that another family was gone, ripped from her, by her own little sister. Her face twisted, the muscles tensing. Acting on instinct, her fist tightened. Vi struck Powder across the face, slinging her to the ground as Powder yelped.

Powder held her cheek, she tried to speak, but the sobs were stealing her breath. "Why did you leave me?!" Powder screeched, her voice breaking.

Vi roughly grabbed her cheeks and pulled her close, their foreheads almost touching. "Because Mylo was right! You're nothing but a jinx!" Vi stared furiously down at her sister. She saw the fear in Powder's eyes, the blood that started to trickle down her nose.

Vi felt instant regret.

She released her and stood up. Vi saw how Powder flinched from the action. The boxer stomped off before her emotions got the better of her. She needed time to calm down.

"Violet please!"

Vi marched on.

"I need you, please!"

She didn't look back.

"Violet!"

She ignored her sister's screams, walking into an alley. Vi put a hand over eyes, her body feeling sick from the sheer horror she experienced. She did her best to take deep, shaky breaths through her mouth, and out her nose. After trying to calm her breathing, she looked back to Powder.

Her forehead was pressed against the stone. She was sobbing violently, her body jerking from the force of her cries.

And Silco was walking her way, with a knife in his hand.

"Powder!" Vi gasped. She made to rush to her, but as she did arms wrapped around her.

"Don't be stupid, he'll kill you…!" A voice whispered out. Cloth found itself to her mouth and nose, she was smelling a damp, slightly sweet smell. She tried to break out his grip, her head smacking back into him. As she did, she got a glimpse of a man dressed as an enforcer. A cloth around his right eye bleeding red.

And that was the last image she saw as she faded into blissful unawareness.

Silco was angry.

Nothing had gone as he expected. He knew there was a risk of the bag exploding. But he didn't know what caused the explosion topside in the first place.

He needed to kill the Sherif, leave the space open for someone else. But he didn't expect more enforcers to show up so soon. The death of four enforcers would cause more tension from the council. He would have to move exceedingly carefully. Silco could do it, he could survive on the knife's edge. But it would only lead to more work.

The Chem-Baron had captured Vander, spoke to him one last time. Reaffirmed himself that Vander would never willingly work with him again. From there, it should have been simple. With Zeke, let alone the rest of his fellows, how hard would it be to kill some children?

He had underestimated her.

Underestimated Vander.

And how far he would go to protect his family. In that regard, Vander had his respect.

And then the explosion. The same shade as the two before. There was something he was missing, but he could find time to put it together later. For now, he thanked his luck that Vivek was away as Vander turned himself in.

Vander was still inside as the building collapsed. He should be dead, but if there was anyone who would surprise him, it was Vander. He had to see the body. Silco would search the building thoroughly once the fire died just to be sure.

All that was left was the girl in front of him.

He trudged toward her; knife held in his hand. His underlings stayed back, picking themselves up from the ground as they coughed. Sevika was rallying them as she pulled Lock up from his crouch.

Silco loomed over the girl, she barely paid him heed. He glared down at her in exhaustion. With this, he would be another step closer to securing his position. His grip tightened, and then-

She hugged him.

Silco gasped slightly, looking down in confusion. Staring as she latched on to him. Swiftly, he hid the knife behind him. Crouching down, he spoke to her softly. "Hello, little girl. Where's your sister?" He asked. Vi was too much of nuisance, she needed to die.

Jinx's arms squeezed around him. "She's not my sister," she ground out.

Silco watched in curiosity.

It may have been the fatherly instinct in him, but he wrapped an arm around her. "There, there, dear girl." He whispered out, his chin relaxing on her head. "There, there.."

Looking down at her. He saw that she was broken. Just like he was. When we gazed at her, he couldn't help but see himself. He couldn't help but see Zaun, perfect in all its imperfections.

Silco couldn't help but see Vivek.

Vander refused to die.

His shoulder was pierced through, there were claw marks on his body, his right arm was hanging to him by a thread. The pain was immense, wounds from today, and the dramatic shift to his body from Shimmer ensured that it was.

There was an explosion after Vi left. It flung him out the room, the catwalk coming loose as Vander fell to the ground level. The fall twisted his legs. Fire surrounded him, it would soon close in, burning him, if not stealing his oxygen first.

But he refused to die.

"Silco…" He moaned out, dragging himself with his left arm.

"Silco," the name anchored him to reality. It let him withstand the pain, to remember all that happened on this day.

His sons were dead. Taken from him by Silco's machinations. Vi would undoubtedly be traumatized from this, and Powder…

Oh Powder…Vander thought to himself in agony. He was facing the door as it exploded, he saw the blue flash. Were it his first time seeing it, he wouldn't have known. But after experiencing it once today, he knew the origin of that explosion.

Powder kept a crystal.

Vander could barley even begin to work through that. The pain and sorrow ripping into him, making his thoughts incoherent. What he knew for sure, was that this was a tragedy. One orchestrated by one man.

"Silco." He growled to himself, a guttural sound coming deep from his throat. He pulled himself, tears in his eyes, as he desperately tried to survive. To get revenge.

He had fought for so long, so hard, all for peace. For the time to take care of his family. Keeping the Barons back, carefully threading his dealings with Grayson. He was always so patient, so careful, like some pawn upon a board. It was the only way, the only path to staying alive. But now, Silco…

Silco.

"Still…alive…are we?" A voice rasped out. Vander reasoned he must've been so delirious he didn't even hear him coming. He glared up at the voice. A thin man, fresh burns running up the right side of his face. He held a wet cloth to them, a purple cream glowing from underneath it. He was hurt, but clearly alive.

One of Silco's underlings.

Vander growled, trying to pick himself up. He only partly could, before he fell back to the ground.

"Ah, but can't you feel it…your body, it is healing itself." The singed man said, his eyes roaming over his body. He was still a few steps away from Vander. Not close enough to grab. "I have never seen…an organism respond in such a way. Your claws, they do not rip out of your skin….they protrude naturally."

"I'll…kill you."

"Yes, you would…you would heal…if you were not destined to burn here."

Vander glared in response.

Singed stared into his eyes, madness swirling in his sole remaining pupil. He must have been in immense pain, and yet he was starting a conversation in the middle of a burning building.

"But I can save you." Singed whispered, an open palm pointing to him.

Even in this state, Vander's eyes widened at the absurdity of that statement.

"You work….for SILCO." He snarled out. The fire was getting closer, debris were falling, the only thugs left in the building were dead or charring on the ground.

Singed nodded. "As I will continue to do so. But…I have worked for Noxus, for Heimerdinger…for any who will let me pursue my goal." He smiled slightly, the burn across his face ripped like overcooked chicken. "Silco…allows me my personal projects…I wish to test your body to its limits, he…would never allow this. But it is a way for you to survive."

"Why…would I ever….say yes."

"Do you not wish to see your children again?"

Vander froze. He thought of what he lost, Mylo and Claggor. And of what he would leave behind, Vi and Powder. He could blame the pain, his spiraling thoughts, but the truth was he wanted to see his family again. Vi, Powder, even the nephew he met only once. He wanted more than anything, to be there for them.

"I understand…I too, was once a father." Singed glanced at the spreading fire. "But…you don't have time to decide. If you refuse, I will simply collect your corpse later. I would prefer to study you alive, but it is…of no consequence to me."

Vander, having been put in an impossible situation, a thousand thoughts spinning in his brain, could only give one answer in reply.

"Yes…" He glared up at him. He rested his head on the ground, barely having the energy to pick it up.

Singed withdrew a needle a needle filled with Shimmer. A special variant that was so far the only of its kind. "I will assure you now, you will die without my help. Ah, but you must know…in return for your survival…you will experience tremendous pain."

Vander snarled back at him. He already had experienced it. He thought back to Silco's earlier words. Rage burning darkly in his heart. The shackles he had on his temper were fully broken.

I'll gut you…

It was raining.

We were having acid rain today. It wasn't hard to tell. It was strange, how one day we could get 'fresh' rain, and then the next acidic. But it was just a facet of life. The rain was easy to discern. There was a sulfuric smell in the air, not at all as rain should be. I licked my lips, the sour tang pricked at my tongue. But I could tell it was acid rain from one more important detail:

It was burning my hair.

It thankfully washed out the gunk that was molded to it. But whatever chemicals were in this rain didn't like the ones from the swamp. It stung my hair, feeling like hot sauce scalding my scalp. Only a small part was spared from the pain.

God, I hope this doesn't make me bald.

I was walking home. Deckard and the gang were already sent off. After meeting the Whumps I rounded the gang up and spread the cheese they so loved. I extracted a promise that we would talk more, but I left it at that. They saw me as friendly, now I could establish our relationship, ease them in to working for me.

I walked slowly, letting the rain wash the day away. It was reassuring in its cold, yet it felt burning hot to me.

I didn't regret it.

And that was all I was going to think in that direction. It was Piltover's fault that we were forced to this state. Forced to fight our brothers and sisters. I was sure of that.

I made it to the warehouse, and I saw it flaming. I stared in shock as my home of a few years, burned and crashed down.

What the hell did I miss?!

I was gone all day. It was a long walk to the Whumps…but just what happened? Was it the enforcers? Did we tip our hand too far?

"Vivek." My father's voice pulled me from my thoughts. I turned to him, seeing a few of our men outside in the rain. Slim Jim and a small group were whispering to each other. Bruises covering them. Sevika had her arms crossed and was glaring at someone. A girl that held to Silco tightly, her face was buried into him as they walked.

I gasped, my jaw dropping as I saw her.

Silco had a hand on her shoulder. He looked me in the eyes, trying to say something without words. "This is Jinx. She'll be staying with us from now on." He said neutrally.

Of all the things I could've expected. It wasn't that. I had no context for any of this. Where's Vander, her siblings? Isn't Vi her sister? She would never allow this; I knew that sure.

I didn't even know where to begin. And the fact that she was called Jinx and not Powder? And we were taking her in. Maybe even adopting her?

Jinx glanced up, one eye looking at me as she clung to him like a shadow.

I could think all day about how this transition happened.

But what do I know about Jinx?

She's crazy and likes bombs.

Vi the future Champion is her sister.

Jinx is a future Champion.

My mouth closed as I blinked at her. I couldn't just write her off as 'crazy' and move on. She certainly seemed fine when I was tailing her. But this was my new reality, I couldn't just slot things into holes. If this was Jinx, then she had to be deeply mentally unstable. She didn't look like she wanted to leave Silco's side. Taking all that into account…

It was wrong.

What I was about to say to her. The way I was about to say it, it was wrong. I could word it any other way, but when I thought about her future…knew we would only gain more enemies in our own. No matter how wrong it was, I meant every word. I had to say it.

I didn't bother crouching down, I was only a bit taller than her.

I smiled softly at Jinx, and offered her my hand, palm up.

"Hi there, I'm Vivek! But you can call me Vek, Viv, Vi, or anything in-between!" I said gently. "After all…we're family now."

Her eyes widened. My father's shadow became my own as she let go and rushed at me. Jinx tackled me. A small 'oof' leaving me at the force. The ground was slick from the rain. And so that, combined with her weight, led to me falling to my back.

She grabbed at my chest, holding me as if I was an anchor and she would fall to the sky without me. Jinx cried softly as she burrowed herself into me. I was a bit shocked at the reaction, but quickly recovered.

I ran my fingers through her wet hair as she trembled. "I'm here, Jinx…I got you." I whispered to her, audible under the soft rain. "I've got you."

I was on my back. She tried to get as close to me as possible as she cried. The rain fell over our forms. It led to a blistering pain through my scalp. My home was destroyed.

And that's how I met my little sister for the first time.

Chapter 7: It's The End Of The World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine)

Okay, let me explain my thought process here:

Vander lives…but he's out of the picture for a bit. It's implied in the show, but for this story he is 100% Warwick.

He "willingly" accepts Singed's offer. This leads to him keeping his memories and his identity. But the idea of a man with a violent past, being forcibly turned back into that man, only even more monstrous? I would love to play with that.

And it leads to future Vander interactions. This way, I can have my cake and eat it too.

As for the warehouse playing out similar, I really think it's the perfect set up.

Singed gets his namesake.

Vander becomes Warwick.

Powder becomes Jinx.

Silco get's a daughter.

Vi is taken out of the picture.

On that note, I did play with the idea of Vander getting locked up with her, or becoming Warwick later. I know some people were hoping it would go in that direction. But I feel like it's better for Vi to be fully isolated, it makes the heartbreak when she returns stronger. Even if Vander got sent to Stillwater, Silco would never stop sending people to kill him. Vander could handle it, but ultimately, I wanted to go in this direction from the start. And I want to stick to my vision.

Jinx needed the catalyst to have a breakdown. And everything I have planned out was about the influence Jinx and Vivek have on each other. So, I needed all of her stabilizing influences out of the way.

Fun as it would be to write about Mylo and Claggor surviving, I'm not interested in writing it right now.

But I can promise this is as close to canon as we're going to get. From here, I have free reign to do whatever I want.

Vi will show back up in 7 years, and Warwick will be close behind her.

Silco's gonna mirror Jinx in the "Is Vander/Vi actually gone?" mentality.

There's also going to be some repercussions from what happened in front of Benzo's. And then there's Vivek's influence on things.

I'm looking forward to writing it all out. The relationship between Vivek and Jinx is the main reason I came up with this story in the first place. So I definitely want to get it right.

Thank you for reading.

BTW peep the new tag.

For AO3: The tag was yandere.

I Can Fix Her

Good news: I beat Metaphor

Bad news: I beat Metaphor

That was an unplanned break there. But last chapter was like three of my normal ones, so maybe it evens out?

I should be back to the regular weekly (or less!) schedule. At least until the next 100 hour long rpg comes out.

When flossing your teeth, it was important to follow a certain procedure.

I start by grabbing around 7 inches of thread. Tie it around your middle fingers and pull it taut. Then, with your pointer and thumb, grab it. Leave a space around 3 inches but make sure to be gentle with your hold. Although the floss should be pulled tight, you shouldn't grasp it tightly. That only makes it harder to get under your teeth.

You catch more flies with honey than vinegar.

From there, you can take the floss to your teeth. If you're skilled enough, which I was, you can ignore grabbing it, and just use your pointer fingers to direct it. Shimmy the floss between your teeth, don't jam it in and hit the red. Slide it through and curve the floss around the tooth in a 'C' shape. Glide it up and down in a few swipes. It should naturally go under the gums. After cleaning two adjacent sides of teeth, move down the floss to new inches. Don't just reuse it again and again, otherwise you're just spreading the same bacteria around. And make sure to relax the cheek when you get to the back molars so it's easier to maneuver.

That was the routine I followed every night.

I normally would go through 3 pulls of floss before I was done. It led to me spending a lot of time in the bathroom before bed. Much to everyone else's displeasure. Silco was always perplexed at how long I would take.

It's not that I was slow, I was just thorough. I was selfish. I wanted to eat as many sweets as I could without any consequences. This was both preparation for the future and taking responsibility for the past. There was no annoyance in the act, it was just a part of my life.

"Vi…are you done?"

And there was the other-new-part of my life.

I glanced back at Jinx, dressed in blue pajamas, clinging to the doorframe. Her blue eyes wide and looking up at me. There were some dark bags underneath them from a lack of sleep. At this point, they almost looked bruised

I smiled at her. "Almost, let me just brush my teeth." I said. She gave a small nod and went back to her bed, sitting on it and staring blankly in patience.

I let my thoughts wander as the mint hit my tongue.

It had been only a few days since I met Jinx. I was only given the cliff notes about what happened at the warehouse, but I could read between the lines.

Silco had removed Vander from his position. This led to a series of events that ended with two explosions, the death of the Sherrif, a few enforcers, and Vander and his family with the sole exception of Jinx.

That was a lot to take in.

To begin with, I was conflicted about Vander. He really was a good person. Someone I would have liked to stay in contact with. A gruff uncle I could visit on occasion. To hear of his death left me feeling…sad. It was a tragedy that just couldn't be helped.

I knew it was destined to happen. But there was a difference between knowing the man and having a detached understanding that he needed to die. I hated that it had to end this way. But what else could be done? He would never support Silco, everyone knew that. Things couldn't progress with him in the way. So, he had to be removed.

Vander's body was still being searched for. It could've been burned in the fire, but Silco wasn't giving up until he knew for certain. I didn't want to make a habit of underestimating people, but I just wasn't sure if it was possible to survive that. Maybe if he was some Champion I knew of, it might be possible. However, I never heard of anyone even slightly like Vander as a Zaun Champion before.

So for now, I was working on the assumption that he was dead. Time could prove me wrong, but I doubted it.

Now Vi, on the other hand….

She was absolutely still out there. Apparently, she hadn't been seen since the explosion. An enforcer in Silco's pocket was 'taking care of it' which put Vi's status up in the air. Again, never say never. But knowing her Champion status, I really didn't think she was just gone. From what little I knew of her, I knew she would never leave her sister in Silco's hands.

I just couldn't see it. This wasn't like Vander. She wasn't just some person. I didn't want to be too attached to my out-of-context knowledge. But I couldn't help but think she was still out there, alive and relatively well. I wasn't sure what was happening with her. She could be planning something, it could even be that this was the event that led to her losing her memories. For all I knew, she would show up in Piltover as a new cadet.

Not that I was telling Jinx that. Not right now, at least.

Silco had already declared that Vi was dead. All but stating that we were all Jinx had left. I didn't want to bring up my theories when our relationship was still so fresh. Right now, I think she was still too unstable to handle it.

I thought it made sense got her to be, given she had inadvertently killed her entire family, after all.

Now that I had the context for it, I couldn't imagine what she was going through. She was just a year younger than me. Even with my extra experience, I doubt I could handle it well. The event that had transformed Powder to Jinx, had broken her utterly. It was like the mirror of her soul was in a thousand pieces.

It was now my job to put those pieces in place and hold them together.

I walked out of the bathroom into our small apartment. It was a cozy little place. Carpet and wood walls, one bathroom, one of the safehouses we used. Silco was staking his claim to the Lanes as hard as he could, consolidating as much power as possible. I could only imagine the cut throats he was dealing with right now. This was one of the most vital steps to the plan. We needed to be in control before we could move forward. Normally, I would be annoyed at not helping in some way, but…

"I need you to look after Jinx." Silco said to me. A frown on his face that seemed to be stuck there recently. "You're the only one I can trust with her."

Looking after my new sibling wasn't an annoyance to me.

"Okay, all done." I declared as I came to my bed. A simple twin bed in dark colors, making the white pillows stand out all the more. It was right next to her bed. She had been having nightmares, so I didn't think it best to have separate rooms yet. I wanted her to feel secure.

Jinx held a pillow to her chest as she stared at me, a few of her hairs unbrushed and out of place from bedhead. There was a tension in her frame. The bed squeaked as I got in it, the springs compressing. I brought the cloth covers around me as I turned to address her, my head sinking into the pillow.

"I'll be right here, alight?" I asked her lightly.

"Okay…" Jinx finally relaxed her body and fell into the bed. She faced me as I turned off the lamp on the nightstand between us. Her hair was still braided in the back, I hadn't yet asked if I could undo it. I didn't want to push too far just yet. And some things could trigger her mania seemingly at random.

We were still figuring out our dynamic.

She was clearly attached to me, but sometimes she hesitated, or looked at me for reassurance. Jinx didn't even want to sleep until I was in the bed right next to her, despite the small size of the apartment. I wasn't complaining, it was just something I noticed.

It was like I was a skittish animal, and if she moved too fast, I would disappear.

I sighed as I closed my eyes and faced the ceiling. My head was sore against the pillow. The burning sensation was gone thankfully, but the entire experience was unpleasant. After telling Silco about it, he made sure my fluffy hair was cut short so he could keep an eye on it.

It was hard to diagnose specific things when it came to the chemicals in Zaun. So many things here were unregulated and not understood. A back-alley doctor could stitch you up or get you a prosthetic. But they couldn't identify exact treatment plans when it came to chemicals.

Oh, you're having a bad reaction to these chemicals? Well what chemicals are they? How do they affect the body, and so on and so forth. Chemicals here often mixed together in a noxious sludge. It was impossible to identify specific things. You could take a dive in a spill here and be just as likely to get superpowers as you would to be instantly melted. There was only so much doctors here could do, especially with their limited resources.

For now, I was putting a salve on my scalp every night and hoping for the best.

I focused on my breath as I tried to lull myself asleep. I could hear the distant hum of pipes and the turning of cogs. The hiss of steam being released. Pulleys and cables being stretched. The clockwork song, an ambience that permeated everything. This building was older than usual, leading to less noise cancellation from the outside.

"I can't do that."

I could also hear the barely audible whispers coming from the bed next to me.

"That's not true."

I opened an eye and glanced over. Jinx was covered underneath her blankets like she was in a cocoon. She whispered so softly, if I wasn't focusing, I probably wouldn't hear it at all.

"You don't KNOW that."

I think she was trying to keep it from me, that she was having hallucinations. Auditory and visual.

I wasn't sure if this was something she always had, or if the trauma caused it. Either way, the explosion didn't help things. I didn't know what to do for her. There wasn't much in the way of mental health resources in Zaun, not that she would even go for anything like that. She might not even have any condition I'm familiar with. The brain chemistry here could be completely different from Earth humans, and I would have no way of knowing.

Silco had an important role to play. It was safest we weren't by him right now. Which meant it was up to me to be her rock. I had the responsibility of grounding her back to reality. It was a lot of weight to put on some kid. But I wasn't exactly the average 12-year-old.

Jinx was my responsibility to look after now. I obviously wanted her on my side, but I wanted to be her brother too.

"Jinx," I said softly. My voice could be heard in the otherwise silent room. The hum far away. It brought a stop to the whispering next to me. I couldn't see her, but I can imagine she froze at the sound. I stared at the silent mound of covers as she didn't respond. I hesitated for a second before committing myself.

"Do you…want to sleep with me?"

There was a silence before a figure shuffled under the covers. The blanket was lifted slightly as an eye peaked out. "Can I?" Jinx asked in hesitance herself.

"If you want to, we can."

Slowly, she pulled herself from the covers. Her eyes were locked to mine as she took gentle steps to my bed. I scooched over to give her more room.

Maybe it was too soon. I was almost a complete stranger. Worse, I was the son of her previous father's enemy. Or I could be thinking about it too much. She was still a child and clearly needed help. I was the only one around, and what she needed right now was reassurance.

Jinx climbed into my bed. The springs compressed more at the added weight. Our heads were on different ends of the pillow. We lay on our sides as we stared at each other.

She was so small…

With deliberate hesitance, letting her see the movement coming, I reached my arm up. I gently wrapped my arm around her and pulled her close. Jinx's hands grasped at my black night shirt. Like a repeat of the night we met. She took a deep breath through her nose before letting it out.

"Whenever…you don't feel good. Or if…you just want someone to hold you, come to me." I began as I rested my head on top of hers. "No matter what I'm doing, or how late it is, or even if I'm asleep, I'll hug you. Whenever you need me to…I'll hold you. Because we're family now, right Jinx?"

I couldn't see her face, but she curled into me tightly. One arm snaking over me pulling herself deeper. This close, I could feel her heat against my skin. Every breath she took and the beat of her heart.

"Okay…Vi." Jinx whispered out.

Being honest with myself, I didn't have any friends my age. Not in this life. I was working on it with the goons, but I didn't play games with the other kids. Instead, I thought of revolution. I had my memories of a previous life, but I was undoubtedly still affected by my biology.

There was a craving in me to interact with people my age. I was naturally a physically affectionate person. I would lean against people I loved, would hug them often. In this life, the only person I loved was Silco. And he was often busy or had to be careful with his image.

So, to hold this girl in my arms, to feel her breath against my neck…

It felt good.

I relaxed against her. I was sure she knew the implications of me telling her that now. An unstated acknowledgement of her hallucinations, and that I would accept them. As out of it as she sometimes seemed, she was smart as a whip. It was almost scary. Even if she wasn't always aware of reality, she was absolutely aware of the people around her. Jinx saw their reactions, the way they talked, she put things together faster than even me. And it was all filtered through her child mind.

I wasn't even sure if it was possible to lie to her. Not that I was intending to do that in the first place.

I let myself be lulled into sleep from the sound of her breath, my body warming from the contact. I felt like I was beginning to understand her, but I knew not everyone could. I didn't know if she would ever have a 'normal' mentality. If she would ever again make friends like she used to. So, I decided to introduce her to the funny racoons I recently befriended myself

I whispered one last thing to her before the Sandman came for me.

"Tomorrow, there's something I want to show you."

We ran across the rooftops. It was less of a sprint and more of a jog.

It was a mess of pipes and buildings at different heights. What should have been an ugly mismatch instead fit together like puzzle pieces. I leapt from building to building, Jinx right behind me. We were in no rush, but the buildings were built on a slight slope, leading to more momentum. The wind was pleasantly cool to my sore scalp. My neck was free of my usual handkerchief.

Normally it would be fine to just walk the streets, but it was tense in the Undercity right now.

Two consecutive explosions, the sudden absence of their leading figure in Vander, and enforcers being even more impatient. The people were agitated. They wanted answers about what was happening. And they were preparing for things to get worse.

We weren't at 'war with Piltover' levels yet. But people were understandably upset and scared. Adding the Chem-Barons into the situation wouldn't make things any better. Like vultures, they slinked out of the shadows, poking and prodding, seeing how far they could push. I'm sure some of them had the same idea as we did and wanted to establish themselves as the new top dog.

Unfortunately, we wouldn't make it easy for them.

But for now, that was Silco's problem. I had my own projects to finish first.

I glanced behind me. When I moved, I tried to do so with careful precision, controlling my breathing and not making any unneeded movements. It was all so I could move faster, more fluidly.

Jinx, on the other hand, was the opposite. She ran almost desperately as she rushed to keep up. I wasn't moving too fast, but she tried to stick as close as possible. It was like her body was a conduit for chaos itself. She never hesitated, moving as if every motion was life or death. Jerking her body to a rhythm only she could hear.

I took a particularly long jump off one building. I rolled slightly, spreading the force, and landed in a crouch. Standing up, I turned around to check on Jinx.

"Okay, Jinx. Just make sure you-"

That was as far as I could get before my eyes widened. Jinx jumped off the building with not a hint of hesitation, not even stopping to consider the distance. I quickly opened my arms she jumped towards me. Her body slammed into mine. I grunted as I was forcibly pushed onto my back.

I raised my head from the rooftop, looking down at the girl I caught in my arms. She breathed a bit faster than normal, and her eyes were wide on her face. I couldn't say if it was fear or shock.

I smiled at her.

"Good jump."

Her lips twitched, the closest I've seen her get to a smile.

We lay there for a second, catching our breath, before I patted her on the back and sat up. She rose with me, but tellingly, she didn't let go of me. I could only guess what Jinx was thinking as she stared up at me.

I hummed and moved my head back and forth, making a show of me thinking to myself. "Hmm, well, there's no more long jumps from here. And we don't need to rush." I said aloud to myself.

"Huh?" Jinx asked in confusion.

In lieu of responding, I grabbed the arms loosely around me and twisted so my back was to her front. I wrapped her arms around my neck, grabbed under her knees, and stood up.

Jinx gasped as I gave her piggyback ride. It was a bit awkward, given that I was only a bit taller than her. I had to slouch down slightly to make it work. But I think it was the thought that counted.

"We don't have too much further." I said. "No need to tire ourselves out." I left it at that, not drawing to much attention to the act.

Again, in another situation this would be too much, but this wasn't a normal situation. Jinx and I haven't had too many conversations. At most, she would stay silent by my side, occasionally murmuring something. Jinx didn't have that laughing manic energy I associated with her.

And she was still plagued with nightmares. I could feel her wake up a few times in my arms last night.

What she needed right now was assurance. To know that I was there, that I always would be. We weren't at a point where we could just talk about our problems. For now, this was the best I could do for her. Get her comfortable with me.

I walked across the rooftop. I ignored the strain in my arms, the weight that left me feeling like I still had asthma. I had to shuffle her up a bit and readjust my grip.

But I wasn't letting go.

Not until we got done with the rooftops that is.

I walked at a steady pace, thankfully we didn't have to take any more jumps. There was a blissful silence in the air, at odds with the noise below. I glanced down as an enforcer pushed a man against a wall. The man's hands were held tightly behind him, while another enforcer patted him down.

"Where are we going?" Jinx asked, her low tone audible so close to my ear. I could feel her breath against me.

Progress.

I pushed her up again as she started to slide down. "There's some friends I want to introduce you to. They look like racoons, but they're really smart."

"…Racoons?" Jinx asked perplexedly.

Her confusion brought a smile to my face. "You'll see. Just be gentle at first, they're scared of other people. But once they warm up, they'll be all over you."

It was too soon to introduce her to Deckard and the gang, but the Whumps were perfect for this. What little girl didn't like funny little animals?

Jinx only hummed in acknowledgement as she rested her head against me. The act warmed my heart a bit.

Man, this big brother thing is easy!

It only took a bit longer to get to the pond of filth. The weren't any bodies laying around as I might have expected. Wasn't entirely sure why, animals could have dragged them off, or maybe Silco took care of it.

I made sure to tell him the events of that day, after all.

Regardless, we made our way into a large pipe before crawling through a small space cut into it. We entered what I dubbed in my head as the Whump Warehouse. It was the same as it was before. Mounds of what seemed like trash piling together into mountains and hills.

I put an arm out as I slowly stood from my crouch. "Remember what I said." I whispered back to her. "They're overwhelming at first, but they won't hurt you."

Carefully, I put two fingers into my mouth.

And whistled.

Instantly, several heads popped out of their holes. I told them I would whistle when I next arrived, so they could be sure it was me.

The only needed a single look before they rushed out to me. They weren't as frantic as they were before, or maybe I was used to it, but the tide didn't seem as hectic.

I stood with my hands on my hips, watching proudly as they bounced around. A few tugged at my pants and chittered in some language only they knew. Others didn't bother with me, just taking my arrival as an excuse to play and make merry. I could see one racoon do a backflip into a pile of trash.

They were incredibly playful, but they weren't like this all the time. I think they were excited to have someone else around. They were putting on a show, having fun where they could.

I looked back to see Jinx now standing. Her eyes were wide, glancing around at the clump of Whumps. They looked at her curiously, a few crawling around her feet. One tilted his head at her, chittering off some question.

I cleared my throat. "Atten-tion!" I called out.

A few Whumps immediately stood up on their hind legs, a paw going to their head in a salute.

Just as I taught them.

I'd discovered they liked taking roles. It was like playing pretend, taken to its extreme. Once they had a role, they stuck to it. They weren't a monolith, but this nest seemed to like me. A few were starting to style themselves as my little helpers, something I encouraged heartily. I was trying to figure out if this was the only nest of Whumps, or if more were hidden in the sewers. It was slow going, given that I was still earning their trust, and we had to play a game of charades.

I heard a giggle.

I glanced over to see a small smile on Jinx's lips. Smiling myself, I snatched a piece of cheese from my pocket and walked to her. The Whumps in salute broke out of it at the sight of food, their eyes starting to sparkle.

"Here," I reached the cheese to her. "This is their favorite. Feed them a bit and they won't leave you alone."

I turned a mock glare to the clump. "And don't nip at her! This is my little sister, y'know!"

I got a few fast nods and salutes. Jinx took the cheese cautiously, looking down at it as if it would explode.

She would probably like it if it did.

Slowly, she crouched down and held the snack out. "Here." She whispered out gently, eyeing one of the racoons.

The racoon chittered to her side and softly nibbled on it. A few others grumbled in jealousy but made no move to rush in like when I first introduced myself. The racoon got bolder and started taking larger bites. In just a few chomps, the cheese was gone.

The Whump panted, sticking his large tongue out. He patted his belly and licked around his muzzle.

"You're funny," Jinx laughed. She smiled wide, it was like it took over her entire face. Her eyes were large as she smiled, like a mirror to the Whumps, just a bit too wide. Her eyelid raised just a hint too much. Like she put her whole being into it.

It was the first time I've seen her smile like that.

Jinx reached a hand under his chin. The racoon froze as she made contact, before melting to her touch. She giggled as he fell to his back giving her access to his stomach. He yipped in happiness like a fox, or a hyena. A high-pitched laughing sound coming from his throat.

"They've been down here this whole time?" She asked me, looking down at the Whump with that smile on her face, rubbing his tummy. The blue of her eyes contrasted with the black bags underneath.

"Yep," I nodded. "Far as I can tell, not a lot of people know about them."

I sat down myself, letting some crawl into my lap and paw at me. "They're different, so I think people can be afraid of them, and that makes them afraid of us. They hide here, so they don't make a lot of friends."

I looked down at their panting faces, scratching behind their ears. "But I like them. I think I'm gonna look after them from now on."

They didn't have a leader. A clump seemed to be a collection of families and individuals. They banded together for survival, but they all did their own thing. I wanted to find them anyways, but I was starting to have some ideas about how I could use that fact…

I paused in my scratching. "Speaking of, you guys find what I was asking for?" I spoke up loudly to the crowd.

A few ran off into the mounds, disappearing in the burrowed holes. In only a few seconds they were back. They crowded around me, holding bits and bobs. A collection of shiny gears and dirty jewelry. I had asked them to look for some things for me in exchange for some good food. Like paying a murder of crows to bring me anything that caught their attention. But there was one thing in particular, that I told them to look for in the sewers.

A Whump wobbled to me on two legs. In his hands was a large mushroom colored green with magenta spots.

A Puffcap mushroom.

I grinned at my theory being proven correct. From what I found out from the info brokers, Puffcaps were rare but valuable trade. It was poisonous, and could be used as such, distilled into a liquid. But it naturally produced fumes that, in large numbers, could incapacitate people.

That was already a source of profit and resources. But what I really wanted to test was the Whumps' toxicity resistance. It was hard to harvest Puffcaps due to its fumes. And that's what made it so valuable. It grew in damp enclosed places that a regular person couldn't get to without preparation.

Just like a certain flower.

I didn't know much about how Shimmer was made. But I knew it was extracted by flowers that grew deep in the caves of Zaun. Places that were hard to reach, that would take a significant investment in equipment to harvest safely.

But if we used the Whumps…we saved profit we would've otherwise spent.

And all they wanted in return was food, safety, and cuddles. We couldn't rely on them entirely for Shimmer flowers of course. And manual labor had to be done by people. But that was already two avenues that they could be used in. And there was still so much more.

I wanted to make them synonymous with our enterprise. Have them be seen as loyal workers. We couldn't keep a monopoly on them, of course, but we could color all their future interactions.

This was it. I could see it. This was how I proved myself.

I smirked at the Whumps in giddiness. "Awesome job, guys. I'm gonna get with my dad, and we can hash out a deal."

They yipped at me and raised their arms in triumph.

To the side, I could hear the sound of interlocking parts clicking together. Glancing over, I could see that the Whumps were also handing things to Jinx.

"Get me a gear about the size of your paw!" She ordered out. Her grin gone and replaced with a look of focus. They quickly scurried off to search.

She must've kept a grenade shell on her.

I knew she made explosives, that she caused the one at the warehouse, but I hadn't seen it in person yet. Jinx was stuffing things into the guts of a grenade shell. There were bits of decoration on it, blue and pink painted sloppily in a child's hand. Pink eyes to make a face. It made it look like a dinosaur.

As a Whump returned with a gear, she quickly snatched it and went back to work. I was too stuck in my fantasies to see what started this. But she must've seen something that sparked an idea and wanted to act on it immediately.

A racoon climbed up my shoulder as I stood up. I strolled over to her, careful not to step on any tails. She froze from her movements as my shadow came over her. Looking closer, I could see the nicks in her hands. The dry bits of skin in a half callous. And the bruises on her palms. It was different from her sister's; these were the hands of a mechanic.

Jinx glanced up at me shyly. Her previous energy dampening as her fingers slowed.

I gave her a gentle smile.

"Do you want to try it out?"

We were back outside, next to the pond.

The terrible smell of today was like a mix of dog kibble and soap. Nauseating as always, but what really got me was that the smell could change. I had no idea how that worked. Were new chemicals introduced from the drainpipes? Did they overpower the other chemicals? I didn't dare give too much time to the question.

Some of the Whumps decided to join us. They were shadowing us, eager to see what we were doing. One was still resting on my shoulders. I saw one Whump try to slide down the hill with cardboard like a surfboard. He was doing well, before the hill proved too bumpy, and he was bounced off. Being sent tumbling down the hill in a roll.

A few Whumps gave bellyful shrieks of laughter at the sight.

Jinx was fingering her grenade, looking at the pond in front of her blankly. Standing beside her, I elbowed her and gave her a smile. "Ready?" I asked.

She took a deep breath, before steeling herself. In a quick motion, Jinx pulled the pin and held the grenade to her side.

"One, two-" She started to count.

"Five!" Jinx exclaimed, as she threw the grenade as hard as she could with her skinny arms.

It flew through the air in an arc, reaching high, before right as it was about to hit the water-

It exploded.

The sound was like a large clap of the hands, or a whip being cracked. Water flew up as the force disturbed it, coming down in drops of rain. The thick sludge came down heavy, sending ripples in the pond.

The Whumps shrieked and raised their arms in celebration. The one on my shoulders slamming his paws together in mime of a clap.

Jinx was transfixed. It was an expression of awe. She stared at the pond with an open mouth, before turning to me in excitement. "Vi! Did you see that! I put it together and it worked! It actually-" She forcibly stopped herself, clamping her mouth shut. Jinx glanced to the ground, swaying a bit, and giving a fragile smile.

I put a hand on her head, smiling as she looked up at me. "I did see." I answered softly. "You made that from nothing. You're a genius, Jinx."

Her smile went wide on her face. She gave a half-giggle that ripped from her throat.

"How did you put it together?" I asked encouragingly, my hand rubbing her head.

I could see the shine in her eyes.

"I saw a vial of chemicals! So I just need to tie the igniter-" Jinx quickly rambled off.

On and on she explained, as I listened with a patient smile, idly petting my shoulder warmer. It was the first time I saw her so happy. It was like the depressive aura that followed her was gone for the moment.

I knew it would come back quickly. But this was still a step in the right direction. She was being more open with me. She was starting to trust me.

Seeing her make a bomb from scratch, even if she already had the shell, was genuinely impressive. I saw Ekko put something together, but I could at least understand the logic of what he did. This however, was an explosive. I had no idea how she did it.

And she was only a child. Just how far could she go? I bet Silco hasn't even seen it yet. I've spent more time with her so far.

She was a Champion in the making, and she was on our side. Jinx clearly had some insecurity and abandonment issues, understandably so. I needed to encourage her. I could see she had a fixture on explosives, I had to give her an outlet to let loose. Comfort her when she needed it. Inspire her to reach for even greater heights.

It wasn't like I was manipulating her, or anything like that.

I meant every word I said. I was her brother now, that's just what good brothers did.

And once I took on a role, I wanted to play it to perfection.

I would accept nothing less from myself.

Chapter 8: I Can Fix Her

They're not the Bonnie and Clyde duo they'll be in the future, but they'll get there. This is only a bit after the explosion, so Jinx is a lot more withdrawn. She'll start to open up and act as she normally does from here on. I deliberately don't want to show her POV just yet.

Silco is doing stuff in the background that I'll get into next chapter. Vivek and Jinx are still young, so Silco thinks there's only so much they can do. But soon they'll take a more active role in things than they previously did.
Also, a lot of the weird clinginess Jinx has with Silco is being transferred over to Vek, naturally. A consequence of spending more time with him early on. She'll still see Silco as a father figure, but it's her interactions with Vivek that's going to have people raise their eyebrows at.

As always, thank you for reading!

Food For Thought

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

This chapter fought me a bit. Not sure why?

I might be able to get another chapter out this week. Maybe, hopefully, probably, more than likely.

Maybe.

Tap.

"What you're proposing is preposterous, Silco!" An aged voice spoke up.

Tap.

"This is what you gathered us for?" Another questioned, adding to the choir.

Silco rested his finger on the long wooden table, a large piece of polished mahogany wood. It had been used many times; it was obvious from the chips in the wood. His finger tapped mechanically, not allowing his hand to fall, as he listened to the complaints of the Chem-Barons.

The room they were seated in wasn't anything special. It was a hall once owned by Piltover industrialists. It was used to take petitions and a sales tax from the miners. The room was long and dark. There was a singular circular window facing the far wall. The Undercity grey peering from the window the only dim source of light.

The revolutionary glowered at the assortment of thugs in front of him. Fools who would only reap, who couldn't sow any seeds unless it was for profit. There were 8 of them, not including himself. The group consisted mainly of older faces, but a few young ones stood out as well.

Renni, a woman who's company specialized in the new chem-tech industry. Chross, a leader of fences and informants. Smeech, a Yordle, one of the creatures his son was so enamored with-he was committed to furthering cybernetic enhancements. Margot, the youngest here, focused on brothels and various pleasure centers.

These were but a few of the current individuals gathered here who could claim the title of 'Chem-Baron.'

Not all crime in the city was controlled by the Barons, but they were undoubtedly the ones who had the most influence on the Undercity's workings.

Soon, half of this number will be replaced. A few will even be dead. Silco mused to himself.

"You want to form a council? What are we, Piltover! We have always carved out our territory and stayed in that territory." Wencher scoffed. He was an old man, by far the oldest here. He was allowed some measure of respect for that. He looked the part, with a long white beard that reached his receding hair. He wore a thick brown cloak made of rough leather with small goggles that covered his eyes.

Tap.

Silco turned his gaze to him. "You, of all people, should understand the importance of coming together." He made sure to lock eyes with each of the attendees of the meeting.

"That is why we earned this title, our communities rallied around us. We prevented the Undercity from falling into anarchy, we ensured that we could form actual businesses away from Piltover's grasp. Provide for our people without having to squeeze for the bare minimum." Silco waved a hand. "Even Vander understood the necessity of our existence. And we now have the opportunity to expand further than ever before."

Some here protected their communities, provided opportunities. Some believed in the cause. Others were just scavengers, feeding off Piltover's leftovers.

Wencher in particular was a wretch. A man who should understand the importance of loyalty, more than anyone else, killed his leader and took over his enterprise. He was a dim-witted old man who only believed in the virtues that forged them when it was convenient for him.

"And you conveniently take Vander's place?" Renni questioned, tubes guzzling chemicals to her nose. "You become the linchpin that has a hand in every trade in the Undercity?"

"None of you have the resources that I do." Silco stated simply, his posture remaining stiff in the chair. "None of you can occupy the same space Vander did. I helped build the Lanes, facilitated the smuggling ring that let us escape the mines."

Silco set his jaw, a bit of his cheek twitching from the clenching of his teeth. "I am here once again to offer you more. Shimmer will strengthen our position. By forming a council, we can better secure our interests." The kingpin said.

His gaze wandered around the room, taking in the faces of his guests. As they all glanced at each other, gauging the other's reactions. Some were surely thinking of taking control for themselves. Foolhardy as that would be.

The Yordle brought his mechanical hands together, servos whirring as his wrist spun in ways natural joints wouldn't allow. "Ah yes, your wonder drug. You've explained its potential. But what, specifically, are you offering us from its use?" Smeech asked with a fang filled grin.

Silco took a breath…

These weasels will only dance to one song.

And let it out.

"Once…I asked my son what he wanted for his birthday." Silco began, his back becoming loose as he hunched slightly. "Do you know what he asked for?" His eye narrowed. "He wanted a steak."

"What does any of this have to do with-" Margot was cut off before she could continue.

She was the newest to gain the title, the only one who would dare to interrupt. She was allowed some measure of leeway, due to her lack of experience.

But only once.

"Can you imagine it?" Silco huffed to himself in amusement, not giving Margot an iota of attention. "Of all things, a boy of only 10 years wanted a steak."

Silco suddenly glared at the assembly. "But my son wanted a taste of topside, and so I acquiesced." The Chem-Baron stated, his voice taking a dark edge. "I procured him one. Hired the best chefs I could afford-made sure it was cooked to perfection. No chem-grills, no chem-staining. It was as clean as possible."

The revolutionary let the fire inside him fuel the passion in his voice.

Tap.

"It was the best steak I have ever eaten. The taste of smoke would fill your mouth with every bite…" Silco trailed off in remembrance. His eye widened, he looked between the Barons. "But do you know what he said, once I brought it out for him?" He asked rhetorically.

"He asked me, father…where's the sauce? And then it occurred to me, after having the best meal I have ever tasted. I realized…I've never once ate such a high-quality meal with condiments. The thought never even crossed my mind. I couldn't even imagine it." Silco spat. He continued to tap a slow rhythm on the table.

A few of the Barons leaned in, curious to see where this was going.

"Something as simple as a condiment, something my son could only think to ask for as a present, something like that, Piltover could have for every meal if they wanted." Silco looked as if he was ready to pounce. "You think you know wealth? You don't even match their lesser houses."

Silco slammed his palm down on the wood, the smack reverberating through the room. Margot flinched back from the sudden action.

"That is what I am offering you." Silco declared with a glare. "A taste of topside. Shimmer will be our fuel, chem-tech will be revolutionized. We will have technology distinctly our own. We will unite the Undercity fully under our authority-have our own governance. I do not need you. I am offering the opportunity to reach wealth you can't even imagine."

It wasn't entirely wrong. He needed to unite the Undercity, and thus the Barons. But more would fill their thrones. If he failed this time, then he would simply try again later.

The Barons looked at each other, a kaleidoscope of emotions being displayed. Disgust, anger, contemplation, glee, but most prominent of all was greed.

"I'll let you discuss the details amongst yourselves." Silco finished lazily, standing from the chair.

"You kill Vander and now you think you run everything! You're nothing but swagger and hot air, Silco!" Wencher yelled from his seat. He kept pushing back in an attempt to stay relevant. It was ironic coming from him.

The future ruler of the Undercity didn't dignify him with a response.

Leaving the room and shutting the door behind him, Silco sighed. He took a moment to appreciate the debates starting behind the door, before fetching out a cigar from his coat.

A hand reached out to light it for him, as an underling should. He grunted in thanks at Sevika. He felt the relaxing smoke touch his tongue. An imported Shuriman tobacco, there was no hint of acid in its smoke. A popular and commonly bought cigar.

"The rats take the bait?" Sevika asked, quirking an eyebrow. She followed along as they made their way to the exit.

"Undoubtably, some will try to kill me and find the formula for Shimmer." Silco drawled. "Whoever is left after the purge will be my council."

It was impossible to control the entire city single-handedly, even for him. He had too many responsibilities, he needed to delegate if he wanted true unity in the city.

"How goes the recruitment drive?" Silco asked her.

"Steady. A lot of people are seeing where the wind's blowing now that Vander's gone. Not all are soldiers for the cause, but they'll be useful none the less." Sevika responded, staying a step behind him.

"Good work."

Sevika was one to keep an eye on. At this point, it was understood that she was his left-hand, the right of course being reserved for Vivek. She was competent and was one of the few that remained from the warehouse.

Sevika, Rico, Lock, Ran, and several others. He made sure to remember all that joined him initially. Before he gained the momentum that he had now.

"And the children?"

"Your son's been sparing more with the leg breakers. I join when I can. He says he's got something to show you."

"Hm, I was heading there anyway. And Jinx?"

Sevika hesitated. "She never leaves his side. Everywhere he goes, she follows like a lost pet." She said, frowning at him. "But sir, she's clearly unstable. Everyone can see it. Are you sure it's safe to keep your heir with her?"

Silco only glanced at her in annoyance. "She's suffered a tragedy and grown stronger from it. Having some trauma is to be expected."

"A tragedy that she caused." Sevika said dryly.

"And yet, I hear she no longer has issues with building working explosives."

Our eccentricities are to be embraced.

"Vivek will tell me if there's an issue. Otherwise, she's free to do as she wishes. Talent like hers must be nurtured."

There was clearly more she wanted to say, but Sevika let the matter drop. Silco could see the truth of it in his son. He had grown stronger recently. Vek was taking steps to fulfill his own ambitions. And it all came from allowing him to pursue his own interests.

Jinx would be the same.

There would be times when Silco would have to guide them himself, they were still young. He would empower them, show them how to be strong. And in the end, they would be at the top of a newly formed nation.

That was his dream.

But that was a long way away. He had to prepare them first. Ensure the revolution progressed smoothly. Remove or control certain threats.

Make sure Vander was dead.

Shimmer was highly flammable. Another of its various uses. The chem-fire burned so hot almost nothing was left. The steel was melted to slag, flesh didn't stand a chance.

But not being able to see the body…Silco couldn't help but worry.

Did he really die that day? If he survived, then his first act would be to grab Jinx. Vander would never allow him to have her. But it had been weeks, and so far, nothing. Silco had been monitoring Vander's allies, he didn't find anything out of place.

Despite everything, Vander was a survivor, like him. If there was even the slightest chance that Vander survived, then he had to be prepared.

He couldn't allow himself to relax.

Silco would 'officially' claim The Last Drop. Draw out Vander's allies and all those that would oppose him taking his position. Silco would reset the board, bring a new age to the Undercity.

He was closer than ever before to accomplishing what had burned in him for his entire life. He wouldn't tolerate any disruptions.

Marcus had promised that the girl was dead. There was every possibility that he was lying to him. If that was true, then it would only be proven with time. That, and if Marcus was worth keeping around. If she showed back up, he would simply deal with her before Jinx found out.

She was stronger without Violet holding her back.

Despite the many responsibilities he was shouldering, Silco resolved to take some time to see his family. Jinx was an unexpected addition, and yet she slot in perfectly. Her gadgetry eclipsed any others, and she would only grow with time.

He could already see a future where his children supported each other. Not bound by blood, yet siblings, nonetheless, fighting for revolution. Like Vander and himself.

Only this time, they were both strong.

I had a most important mission.

One that I took with the utmost seriousness. It would decide the fate of my future. Of my entire family's future.

I could feel the heat on my skin, a drop of sweat falling on my forehead. My hands twirled expertly, like a dance I practiced for a thousand years. I kept everything in balance. Double, triple checked to see if my calculations were correct. My sister was counting on me. I needed to get this right. There was only one chance…

I had to get these scrambled eggs right.

I wasn't entirely sure if the eggs came from chickens. The animals definitely existed on Runeterra, but there were a lot of animals here that filled the same niches.

Today, I was making some egg sandwiches for breakfast. Bread and eggs weren't always too costly down here, and I enjoyed cooking anyways. I toasted the bread in a saucepan, using butter as a substitute for oil. I had to be careful with the heat, just enough to toast, but not enough to burn.

I flipped the bread as the butter was cooked into it. The bread taking a golden shine as it crisped. The eggs were already done. I added a hint of cheese to enhance its taste. If we had something like mayo or vegetables, then I could get more fancy.

But those were hard to come by.

Things like sugar and milk products were much more plentiful.

I made sure to make a good amount. We had a 'guest' over, after all. But he was asleep in the bathtub, his large tongue rolling out. He was enamored with it after seeing it. Not every place in Zaun has one of those, I suppose.

"Alright! Finished!" I announced in triumph, a child-sized white apron wrapped around me.

There were various colorful scribbles on it. Carrots, apples, cookies, all falling to a bule-haired figure's open mouth as she lay horizontally.

Jinx was getting expectations of me. It was cute, so I had no choice but to answer them.

Jinx was sitting at the table. She didn't look up as she scribbled in her notebook. It was just as likely she was making some trap as it was that she drew whatever came across her mind. Jinx hummed happily, kicking her feet.

It was something I noticed recently, when she was in a good mood, she hardly sat still. She was a bundle of energy, always having to burn it off in some way.

I placed down our plates on the simple table. I lifted my chair before I pulled it back. I hated the noise the legs made when they ground against the floor. I took my seat adjacent to Jinx, she liked me close, and I saw no reason to deny her. I could see her nose was still stuck in her notes.

I snapped my fingers twice. "Oi, head up. You wanted me to cook for you, I need you to be my taste tester."

It came up in a conversation the night before that I liked to cook. The idea entered her head, and she wouldn't leave me alone until I made something. So, I promised to make breakfast for today.

Jinx peaked her head up, uncaringly tossing her book to the side. Her eyes were still dark, but it was better than before. She narrowed her eyes at the sandwich. Carefully picking it up and taking a large bite. Her cheeks were filled like a chipmunk's

She chewed slowly before swallowing. Jinx hummed and moved her head back and forth, making a show of her thinking to herself. "Hmm, It's good!" She declared.

I smiled in victory.

Then I lost that smile as she pushed her plate to the side and went back to her notebook.

It seemed she was the type to forget to eat when she got caught up in something. She let her obsessions guide her.

I mean, I made it cause you asked…I thought in slight annoyance.

"I made it with love, so make sure you eat your fill, okay?" I remarked. Then, instantly tensed as I realized there could be an implication in that statement.

I should've worded that better.

"Uh-huh!" Jinx replied back happily, not looking up from her notebook as she took another bite, smearing crumbs across her cheek.

I breathed out in relief. Sometimes she was desperate to please. A comment like that could be taken the wrong way. I didn't want to force her to eat or anything. But…this was progress, wasn't it? Her anxiety seemed to ebb and flow. Right now, she was in a good enough mood that I didn't have to feel like I had to be careful with my words.

Jinx trusted me enough to know I wouldn't just toss her aside. Well, when she didn't listen to her hallucinations, that is.

I turned my attention to my own breakfast sandwich. It wasn't the best I could do back on Earth, but I thought it was good for what it was. I filled my mouth with the crunchy bread, the fluffy cheesy eggs. We were lucky to get even this.

I never wanted to take it for granted. I knew what it was like to be born with bad luck, I wanted to appreciate what I had.

I swallowed, feeling it go down my throat.

I haven't been wearing my handkerchief recently. I realized.

It wasn't out of shame, of course. It was more that…I was thinking about how I used it.

Asphyxiation. It was how I died in my first life. A painful way to die. Your lungs start to burn, ribs feeling like they're being crushed. Your body starts to get sluggish, as if it's drunk, a result of oxygen not reaching the brain. And then, one final thrash as you can't help but fight for just one more gulp of air.

It was a hell of a thing. It was scary to experience.

I paused in my eating. My fingers lightly brushed my neck, the tips tapping at it.

It gave me an idea for a weapon.

Being realistic, if I was to take my father's place someday, then I needed to inspire fear. At least on some level. I had plans to win the people's love, but I needed my own edge. Jinx, Ekko, Vi. They had a style of fighting that played to their strengths. Jinx was spontaneous but deceptively smart. She had explosives, each one specifically built by her.

I asked myself, what was I good at? What was important to me? What could help me reach that mythical status of 'Champion.'

I came up with strings. Or floss, to be precise. Somehow, I wanted to weaponize it.

I wasn't entirely sure how yet. But the concept was starting to burn at me. Strings to cut, to grab, to choke.

It would take so much thread to use it as I envisioned. But just the idea of it…

It felt like I was having a lot of those lately.

Ideas, that is. Jinx, the Whumps, getting stronger, improving the Undercity.

There were so many things swimming in my head. But they all took time. So many things I was excited for, that I wanted to accomplish. The best was yet to come, I knew that for sure. But I had no choice but to wait, to prepare accordingly.

To look into the string idea, I had to take apart my automated flosser. I originally intended to do so to get a peak into Ekko's design philosophy. But for this new purpose, I needed to understand how it worked inside and out. It would take so much for me to build something like that. I had to-

I stopped myself, looking to Jinx.

It wasn't fair that I was stuck in my head, ignoring a perfectly good little sister right in front of me. Jinx was here exploring her own passions, doing what she loved. It was important that I showed interest in her hobbies. Show her that I cared.

And honestly, I doubted she would say no if I just asked for some help.

I took a bite of my own forgotten sandwich, savoring the taste. I blinked at Jinx, seeing she still had only taken one bite. I reached over, grabbing her breakfast. I could see her eyes tracking some schematics she wrote out on the page. I smushed the food against her lips.

Jinx giggled, glancing up with a smile. She wordlessly opened her mouth and had another large bite.

"I'm not feeding you." I remarked in a deadpan. My sister gave me a muffled whine as I placed her sandwich down and went back to my own.

"So, what are you working on anyways?" I asked between chews. She gave a large gulp before opening up her book. Her thigh touched my own as she shoved the notebook in my face.

The were two illustrations of a grenade that had little ears attached. One was the full shell case. The other, of its internals all colored with a different marker. Each color seemed to mean something. A green trigger to a red wire. But only Jinx would understand the color coding.

"This is mouser 2.0!" She declared proudly. "Splat version!"

"Why splat version?"

"Because it's a nail bomb, it's gonna go SPLAT when it hits."

"Oh, that makes sense."

"It'll hurt more than it'll kill. Unless you get right in front of it." Jinx explained.

"Isn't that true of all bombs?"

"No, it isn't!"

We went back and forth like that for a bit. I would have to feed her the sandwich, in between bites of my own, as she worked herself up to a ramble.

Until there was a knocking at the front door. The small apartment made it so the noise could be heard anywhere.

I tensed, the unexpected noise causing my heart to race. I was sure we were being watched over…but still, it was best to be safe.

I turned around with Jinx to face the door.

What if someone got past the guards?

Well then they wouldn't knock.

But it could lure us into a fall sense of security.

In the worst case, I would need to grab Jinx and run.

I'm sure she has a grenade somewhere.

I was salivating a bit. I swallowed, watching as the knob turned, and the door opened.

Silco stepped through and I relaxed myself.

"Oh, Dad! Are you hungry? I made some more!" I said in excitement, not expecting him to have the time to visit. I was already halfway raised from my chair.

Silco waved his hand. "Don't. You should eat, I'll grab my own."

He took off his coat, placing it on a nearby hook, leaving him in his pristine suit. He kept it free of any dirt or grime. Silco was always clear about the importance of image and the respect it could bring. Such shows of wealth were just another tool for him to use.

"Hi, Silco!" Jinx called, going back to her notebook.

"Hello, Jinx" He greeted as he walked to the counter, grabbing a plate of eggs before sitting across from us.

"You're face is dirty." Silco frowned. He reached for the handkerchief in his front pocket. An expensive wine red, with wave-like patterns in it. He dabbed at her face with it, cleaning it of the crumbs.

She paid it no mind.

"Now, how have you been?" He asked us, grabbing his fork.

We enjoyed a rare family meal together. Sharing small-talk and catching each other up.

It was nice, these little moments.

Silco took our plates to sink before sitting back down.

Jinx was back to scribbling in her book, a variety of markers on the table. She leaned against me as she did so.

"How is your hair?" He questioned me, steepling his fingers together.

I frowned, running my hand through my hair.

Jinx sat her book down for the first time.

"It's coming in white. I plucked them, and they came back the same color. I don't think it's just dyed. I think it's permanent." I said, looking a bit put off at the thought.

It's like whatever happened to my hair, it didn't just bleach it, it bleached the follicles entirely. I didn't know that was possible, but I knew better to underestimate Zaun chemicals. It could be something like a full mutation. I was assuming every new hair growth in that area would be that color from now on. Hair didn't grow all at once, it was leaving little splotches of white.

"I'm lucky that's all it's doing." I murmured. "But I didn't plan to start looking like a milkshake."

"Use it."

I looked up to my father, "huh?"

His face was placid as he stared down at me. "Turn your weakness into strength. Wear it as a badge, and no one can ever use it against you."

"You as well, Jinx." Silco said, turning to his daughter. He spoke in a measured tone, carefully enunciating certain words. "We have all been marked by the city. Take it for what it is, proof of our survival. Wear it with pride."

I didn't say anything in response, merely considering his words. Jinx was similarly silent, looking to me, her notes forgotten.

With pride…

Silco let the silence hang before he spoke up again. "Sevika said you had something for me?"

"Oh yeah!" That sent a jot through me in remembrance.

Let's see if this works.

Instead of replying with words, I simply whistled. Without my fingers in my mouth this time, I didn't want it to be too loud in this small apartment. And I was pretty sure Whumps had good hearing.

The sound cut through the air. I could hear the snorts as he woke up, the nails scraping on the metal as he tried to escape the bathtub. A racoon zoomed out of the bathroom on all fours, before skidding to a halt next to the table, standing straight and giving a salute.

"Atta boy." I said. Jinx straightened from her lean, grabbing a piece of cheesy egg left on the table. He jumped up as my sister tossed it to him, catching it and swallowing in one smooth motion. Jinx giggled at the sight.

Silco stared at the furry creature panting in excitement. His eye was widened larger than normal. It was the most unbalanced I think I've ever seen him.

"This is…your racoons?" He asked, turning his head slightly. Silco looked at the Whump as if he just gave a soliloquy on the importance of diversifying your investments.

I nodded, beaming with pride. "Yep, this is Capo Cornelius, first of his name."

"I'll admit…this was not what I was expecting." Silco said, drawing himself back.

"Really? I figured you would, considering I got the information from-" I glanced at Jinx. "The info broker that I did."

Silco shook his head, eye narrowing.

"No, I looked into rumors after you mentioned them, but otherwise, I've never looked into it. I had no reason to."

"Well, let me show them off then. Capo Cornelius!" I called, hands on my hips.

Cornelius straightened up, his tongue lolling about.

"Grab the goods!"

He ran back to the bathroom. Walking out a minute later on two legs, he held something close behind him with two hands. Cornelius swayed like a lovestruck girl about to confess, before extending both paws forward. He held a flower in between them.

A softly glowing purple flower. Its petals held close like a lily.

Silco sucked in his breath, and eye widening. "Where did you get this?"

"No idea!" I answered. "I didn't want to risk following them, and as much as they understand our language, they can't speak it. I specified what I wanted, and told them to look around."

I loved the look on his face, the sheer befuddlement. Of all the things he expected, I'm sure a Shimmer flower was one of the last.

I leaned over to scratch behind Cornelius' ears, enjoying the squeaking noises he made. The fur that was surprisingly soft, considering all the ragged places these Whumps would go to.

"These are the Whumps, and they would like to make a deal." I said softly, smiling down at the racoon. "Delicious food, protection, and respect. And in exchange, they'll be our loyal workers."

I turned to Silco, my smile becoming a grin. He could pick up what I was putting down.

"Impressed yet?"

Silco's lips quirked into the slightest hint of a smile. "I have to say…I am. You've done good work."

His hand came down to my head, patting me softly.

"If what you say is true, then we can accelerate our production. Make up for what we lost in the fire. Root our influence in even faster. If we keep them hidden, we could perhaps even delay a confrontation with the Baron's."

"I'm showing them what to look for to build bombs, too!" Jinx cut in with excitement.

I wrapped one of my arms around Jinx's. She followed along with me as we aimed our smiles at Silco.

"And naturally, Jinx and I will be heavily involved in integrating them?" I asked him leadingly.

I knew that Silco couldn't help the small smile that came to his face.

"Naturally."

It would take time for my investments to grow fruit. But when it did, it tasted oh so sweet.

Chapter 9: Food for Thought

This was a good day for Jinx, but not all days will be good days.

Small timeskip after next chapter. I want to take time to develop things, but I don't want the pace to be too slow. So I planned for the three chapters after the warehouse to show the broad strokes of how child Jinx acts with Vivek. Show her withdrawn, happy, then unstable.

There's some things I want to point out, but I don't want to give away that underlying layer of unreliableness. What I will say, is that I try to be careful with my word choice. I'm hoping repeated phrase or words comes off as purposeful. And not just from my inexperience. But as always, I'm open to constructive criticism.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter End Notes

So, bit of an explanation on the white hair. One of the members in the thread posted some pictures of a character called Divus Crewel from Twisted Wonderland, and said they were imagining a grown up Vivek to look like that. I looked into it a bit, and it was like lighting struck. It was perfect.

See, in Legends of Runeterra where the Whumps come from, they're ordered around by someone who DRESSES UP like a Whump. Divus Crewel is a Cruella De Vill genderbend, so obviously a fur coat. But if you look at it the right way, it could be racoon coat instead of dog's. Taking that into account, and how the design pairs with Jinx, I thought it was great.

There are other ways I think the design works for the character, such as the black and white motif, but I'll get into that later. I've come up with some ways that I think can make the look feel natural to get to and play into the themes.

It wasn't in my original plans, but it's absolutely for the better. It fits the vibe of the story so well, and it lets me visibly show how Vivek changes throughout the story.

I'll Put A Spell On You

Chapter Notes

This is an important chapter because it's where I finally learned how to use commas the right way in quotations.

Next season drops this Saturday, very excited for that. It wasn't until I started writing this that I realized just how much I love Arcane.

I've been trying to put in a scene showing what's going in Piltover for the past 3 chapters. But it never felt like it fit the mood. So, I'm gonna toss it into an interlude I'm making.

The Last Drop was being remodeled today.

Surprisingly enough, as much as Zaun could seem chaotic, it wasn't completely lawless. We were still a functioning society. A city-state that wasn't yet a state.

Even we had to pay taxes.

Well, to an extent, at least. On paper, there was a state tax that needed to be paid by all citizens, and we were still Piltover's Undercity. Fortunately, the Undercity being what it was, that was kind of hard to enforce. Less so for the more 'understandable' Promenade level on the surface. But us Sump rats? The maze-like sprawl of the Entresol? Yeah, good luck tracking someone down just to pay some measly percentage tax.

It took less resources for Piltover to just look the other way when they could. I took it as another sign of their corruption, letting things get to this point that they could ignore a portion of taxes from a whole city. It spoke to how filthy rich they were.

Now property taxes-that was a bit more strict.

Buildings are easier to track down after all. They kept a record of what taxes were due where and when. Even the hardened thugs down here were careful to keep an eye on the property tax. But beyond the money coming in, Piltover didn't generally care about the particular 'how' that money was made.

Or who made it.

You could sell things here without traditional licenses, you just had to make sure that no enforcer caught wind of it. It was one of the polices that gave rise to the unique Zaunite culture. Piltover just didn't care enough to shine their light on us. But that let us thrive in the dark.

And so, once Silco found the deed to The Last Drop, in Piltover's eyes, everything was business as usual. We had to keep a thin veneer of civility, but not too much. Which led to the remodeling of the bar into something to better serve our needs.

The majority of our plan was hinging on Shimmer. So, we needed a headquarters where we could relay information and peddle drugs. A place where everyone would go to. And loud enough to cover up any business deals made there. A club was the natural fit to answer those needs.

One that was now in the process of being made.

I sipped on my mug of milk through a straw, sitting on one of the remaining bar stools. I enjoyed the pleasant chill as it went down my throat.

"Mhm, tangy," I noticed, looking down.

It was left in cold storage, so I was assuming it was still good.

Jinx was at my side as always, similarly, drinking some milk. She didn't respond to me, just focusing on her drink. She seemed sullen toady. Understandable, given where we were. I was worried it was too soon for her to come back, but once she heard that Silco was moving in, she was adamant that she wanted to come see.

I honestly didn't expect it from her. Jinx seemed to rely on denial and avoidance when it came to her trauma. Normally, the mere act of acknowledging her past was difficult for her. But I think I could consider this a step in the right direction. Or at least, it seemed like the right thing to do.

Wasn't that what you were supposed to do with trauma? Confront it head on?

I think so at least.

I was keeping an eye on her just in case. I didn't want to treat her like glass, but I also didn't want her to suffer needlessly. I cared about her, after all.

I watched as our workers moved about. We were in the early stages, mainly planning things out, so it was alright for us to just hang out like this.

The squeaking of boots against the polished wood was the soundtrack of today. The workers moved to and about, moving barrels and unneeded chairs, clearing the way for extra space. There were some of the regular faces around. Sevika was with Silco in the office upstairs. Licky was constantly rolling his tongue against his new gold teeth. The guy must've got his smashed in the warehouse. Poor Slim Jim was staying busy, right now having to haul out a table that was as big as him.

And then there was Deckard, coming my way.

His, or rather my, crew were being fully integrated into the ranks. At this point, it was safe to say they were more than just hired thugs. The goons were all here, looking a bit out of place with all the hardened gangsters moving around. They stuck together near a corner, sending out a few wary glances.

"Well, you got what you wanted. You're part of a rising star now," I said to Deckard, twisting in my seat as he stopped in front of us.

My minion nodded at that. "Yeah, I uh-guess we did." He fidgeted, hesitating a second before speaking up again. "Look, I just wanna say…I didn't know you were the boss' son."

I watched him, doing my best not to show the amusement I was feeling.

He rubbed the back of his head. "So, on behalf of the other guys and all, thanks for not…being too hard on us."

And waste perfectly good minions?

I shook my head at that. "Nah, it's cool. Not even worth mentioning. But more importantly!" I suddenly pivoted, pointing a hand to Jinx. "Have you met my little sister yet?"

"Uh…no. Not yet," he said, before holding a hand out to shake. "Hey, I'm Deckard. Me and my crew run with Vivek."

Jinx stared at the extended hand with cloudy eyes. She slurped nosily through the straw, making a show of popping her lips as she finished. "Hi," she said, before going back to her straw.

I smiled at Deckard, putting a hand on Jinx's head. "Isn't she just the cutest thing?"

He hesitated for a second. "Sure. Hey, where's that Whump you've been having us ferry around? Figured he'd be by your side right now."

"For now, Cornelius is our go-between for all things Whump," I said. "I've got him rounding up his nest, letting them know of our new deal."

"Right. Well…guess we'll just be hanging around till someone needs us to move something." He made to go back to his group. I waited until he took a step away before I spoke up again.

"Hey, Deckard?" He stopped, turning to me. I gave him a wide smile. "Told you, didn't I? Dad repays loyalty. You got in on the ground floor, now you're going places! And it's all from just following along loyally."

Deckard opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it, then tried again. "Yeah, guess so." It was all he said before walking off to my goons.

We would be able to repay that loyalty here soon. I was learning that when working with minions, you had to have a careful balance of carrot and stick. Too much carrot and you'd have no respect. Too much stick and you'd get stabbed in the back. Once the money started coming in, he'd get a new shiny watch and some new clean clothes. Even something as small as that would be seen as progress to that group. It would prove that this was the best opportunity for him and his friends.

And it would tie them closer to our organization.

I patted Jinx's hair, following it to where it ended to her upper back. Her braid was undone, letting her hair fall like an ocean wave on a bright sunny day. It was surprisingly smooth, but I had to make sure I combed it right. I could already feel a couple of knots in it.

"Your hair's getting long…do you know how to braid it?" I asked her.

"No," she murmured, shaking her head. "I never did it myself."

And Vi's not exactly around anymore.

I could ask Sevika for help, but she would probably threaten to quit right then and there. There were a few other women around, but not many with long hair…

Hmmm.

"I'll figure it out," I declared. If she was certain about keeping her hair that long, it was an inevitably we'd need to figure out how to braid it. Eventually, she would probably grow into the hairstyle I was familiar with, absurdly long pigtails.

Jinx softly grabbed the hand patting her. She looked up to me and spoke quietly, "Hey, Vi? Can we…go down to the basement?"

I searched her expression, placing my drink down. She looked tired, but she stared at me with wide moony eyes. Once again, I was nervous about how she might react. We never talked about it, the role my father played in her family's death.

Her second family, at that.

Jinx never brought it up, but she didn't seem to hold anything against Silco. It was strange in a way. I would expect at least some lingering resentment. But if she did, then she hid it well. Or maybe, it was the fact that he didn't directly kill them. He didn't drive Vi away.

In her mind, maybe the 'what if' didn't matter. To her, no matter how you cut it, she was responsible for their deaths. I didn't want her to go through anymore anguish. Jinx was still a child, dealing with things even adults would struggle with.

But if she was deliberately asking me…

"If…you're sure, then yeah. We can," I responded, squeezing her hand.

She gave a nod and jumped up off her seat, leading the way to the bottom floor. Past the moving bodies, through a door and down the stairs. Each step we took on them gave a creaky groan.

We came to a stop in a room with four beds and a raggedy couch.

Jinx let go of my hand and walked to a lamp. She turned it on with practiced ease. The light revealed a series of pictures lining the walls, framed and hand drawn both. Colorful etchings on white paper. A black and white family photo. There were a few nick knacks strewn about. A plushie on the floor. An open box of some tools, screwdrivers, hammers, a flare forgotten in the corner.

I felt bad just looking at it all, I couldn't imagine what it was like for her. Silco made sure this room was left untouched for now. Everything was as it was before the warehouse. What was once a warm home was forcibly turned into a memoriam. I could almost hear the laughter, the arguments, hurried footsteps as they snuck out, the smell of chocolate on cold nights as they bundled together for warmth.

Clearly, Jinx could hear it too.

The girl's cheek twitched as she took in the room. Her eyes moved slowly with a glazed look, her lips puckering slightly as she robotically turned her head. The movement stopped on the stuffed bunny laying on the floor. Jinx walked to it, picking it up by a foot and holding it up.

"I want another one…just like this. Just from you," she said, not taking her gaze off the toy.

Jinx almost seemed to glower at it, before rapidly taking glances to one bed in particular.

I walked to her, carefully putting a hand on her shoulder. "Okay, I can do that." She dropped the bunny, letting it fall to a slump. She let me pull her to my side. "But hey, are you hungry? I haven't introduced you to Granny Gutsy yet, have I? She's got a bakery a little ways away…" I finished leadingly.

"Mhm," she murmured, her head rolling to my side. Her eyes were still cast downward.

"I'm taking that as a yes." I spun her around and made to go up the stairs, leaving behind a pile of tortured memories. We didn't have to do this all at once. She could take it one day at a time. Her coming this far was progress enough in my mind. This was only the first day of the remodeling.

We still had time.

We were making our way back from Granny's.

As predicted, she absolutely loved Jinx. Gutsy was like that for any kid that came into her shop. I showed off a bit of my favorites from her selection, particularly the gooey chocolate. And now, I had paper bag swinging in my hand, filled with the leftovers of our visit.

It seemed to help Jinx at least. She still looked somber, but it was different, quieter and more contemplative.

Sugar was always good for taking your mind off things.

Jinx walked next to me with her posture slouched, and I wasn't sure if that was just from the new satchel she was wearing. The buildings got taller as we came closer to the bar. It occurred to me that not all of the metal used was colored black. The smog, the towering masses that blocked light. It made the metal seem darker than it really was. I could see a remnant of that old Piltover style, wood bracing buildings, before the wood was replaced by iron.

It was dim, the Undercity grey of the smog choked out the lights high above us. It was more of a mist with this humidity. I could practically taste the grit in the air, more than usual.

It was relaxing, just having a walk with Jinx.

For so long it was just me. I was the youngest around, I was given my freedom, but I knew I always had eyes on me. Others would constantly watch me for my safety, I was always the one that needed to be protected. It didn't lead to a lot of interactions with people my age. I could deal with it, given my rebirth, but still. At times, it could be lonely, not having anyone else around. So to have Jinx, to have someone rely on me so, to look to me for reassurance. It felt good.

"Powder?" A voice asked, cutting through the fog.

So naturally, that's when our time together was interrupted.

Jinx stopped in her tracks, turning to see a boy coming from the street to the left. Ekko's bloodshot eyes stared at Jinx in shock. His white shirt seemed more dirty than usual, bits of grease staining it.

"Powder, I thought you were dead!" He said, rushing forward.

Jinx looked confused as she took a shaky breath. Her arms stayed at her sides as Ekko quickly crossed the street to us. She made no movements as he wrapped her in a hug, holding her tight as he closed his eyes.

I didn't like how that made me feel.

"I didn't know what happened," he began rapidly. "There was an explosion, and then people starting saying Vander was gone-and I couldn't find anyone, then I saw you go into The Last Drop and then-"

Jinx looked lost as he held her, her mouth slightly open as she stared at the sky.

"Powder, I'm so glad you're-" It was then that Jinx snapped back into motion, clarity returning to her eyes.

"I'm not Powder!" She said, roughly pushing him away from her. "I'm Jinx, that's my name."

Ekko looked to her with hurt on his face. "What? Powder you're not a jinx. What're you-"

"It's Jinx! Get it right!"

"Okay, okay!" He held his hands up placatingly. "Jinx…what happened? I saw you go into the bar. Slico runs that place now, everyone knows it. What are you…" It was then that he seemed to realize I was there too.

Ekko stared at me for a second, before sighing. "Vivek…I don't even know what to say to you, man."

"Hey, Ekko," I said with a quiet tone. I was distracted, focusing on Jinx. Her face was scrunched up as she looked at him.

I should've considered the possibility of running into Ekko, I frowned at the thought. But then again, maybe this was inevitable.

He turned back to Jinx. "Pow-Jinx…why are you going to the bar? Why are you hanging out with Silco's son, where's Vi?" Ekko asked, already coming to some kind of conclusion.

I could already see Jinx was getting emotional. Her breath was starting to come out a little harsher.

"Violet left me. She abandoned me," she glared at him. "Just like you did."

"What? That doesn't make sense, Vi would never do that," he said, shaking his head. "But look-we can talk about that later, alright?" Ekko took a step forward, holding himself tight. He made sure to keep eye contact with her. "Powder…I'm sorry for leaving you."

Jinx let out a breath, it was like her entire face softened.

"I'm sorry. I should've stayed with you that night, I just-no that doesn't matter. I did the wrong thing, but I can fix that now." Ekko's face firmed up. "I don't know why you're hanging around Silco, but he's bad news. That monster-making drug of his has already hit the streets. Things are only gonna get worse out there. Come with me, we can run away from it all. You don't have to worry about him ever again."

I could feel my heart starting to race. I absolutely could not have that.

Ekko raised his gaze to me, locking our eyes together. "Vivek…I don't know if us meeting was on purpose or not, but you didn't choose your father. You should come with us too."

Now that shocked me.

"You would just…offer me that? You barely even know me," I said in disbelief.

"Well, you seemed alright the few times we talked. You said we were friends, didn't you? And if you're looking after Powder, then you can't be too bad," he said with a shrug.

He really is a good kid…

But there was no universe where I would abandon Silco. After what happened with Vander, if I left? He might think me confused, misguided, but ultimately, he would be hurt. Even if he hid it or put it behind childish folly. On some level, if I just ran away without telling him anything, he would be hurt.

I didn't want that.

I shook my head at Ekko. "I'm sorry, Ekko. He's my dad…I can't just leave him. I'm all he's got."

He let out a breath. "Alright…I get it. And you, Powder?" The boy asked, stirring Jinx from her silence.

Jinx turned around and looked at me. It was like she was staring right through me. I always thought that was just a phrase, before I experienced it for myself. But that was exactly what was happening. Our eyes met, but she wasn't looking at me, my pupils were just in the way. It was like she was searching my entire face with a single consistent look. Jinx didn't blink, her large doe-like eyes stared up at me. She was watching every twitch I made, every swallow, every breath I took.

I don't have time to think. She needs an answer immediately.

I thought rapidly, my mind working a mile a minute. I can't have her leaving. It wasn't just about her being a Champion. I had a month and a half with her, called her my sister every single day. Of course, I would grow fond of her, of course I would want her to stay. But there was something else to it as well. I cared about her, wanted the best for her. I was the one who felt her wake up in my arms every night. I was the one who saw the worst of her psychosis.

And that's why I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, I was the only one who could help her.

Ekko may be a genius, but he didn't have the experience I did. I had two lifetimes in me. I was originally born into the information age. I knew far more about mental health than my fellow gutter rats down here. I at least knew what the word psychosis actually meant. Hell, I probably knew more than Silco, my own father!

With my condition affecting me physically, I turned inward. I spent so many hours online scouring for anything that even remotely interested me. Psychology, sociology, economics, anything and everything that had to do with the interactions of people. I wasn't exactly a trained psychologist, but I could at least have context for what she was going through. These people would see her issues and have her locked up in Oswell Asylum. My previous world struggled with mental health issues, and the Undercity certainly couldn't compare to even that.

I might be the only one that can help her.

But I couldn't just go out and say that. They wouldn't understand. No, I needed to show her that. Show Jinx that I could help her.

What does she need?

I thought about the hundreds of hours I already spent with her. We were always together; we hadn't been apart since the warehouse. The way she would look at me, put her weight on me, cuddle up next to me, how much those moments came to mean to me. I felt my heart clench at the thoughts.

Jinx needs acceptance.

I stared into her impossibly large eyes. I didn't smile, I wanted her to see me taking this seriously. "Jinx. If you want to leave, if you feel better with Ekko…than you can. That's always your decision," I spoke from the heart. As close as she was reading me, she needed to know it was the truth. "But I want you to know, this time we spent together. That means something. I told you we were family from now on, I meant that. If you leave, that's okay…but we'll still be family."

"You'll always be my little sister," I said, with absolute certainty in my heart.

Her eyes began to well up, her lip twitching. Jinx flung herself at me, wrapping her arms around me tightly. I hugged her back as I felt her take a few shaky sobs.

"Powder…?" Ekko began to speak.

"I told you, it's Jinx!" Before he was cut off.

She let go of me, turning to him, her features sharpening. "You left me. Violet left me. I'm not leaving Vi. He and Silco took me in, I'm not going with you!"

Ekko narrowed his eyes, shaking his head. "Took you in-what are you talking about? Silco killed Vander! I thought he killed you!" He said, his voice rising in pitch. "Doesn't that mean anything to you? Vi would never-"

"Vi is right here," Jinx declared.

Ekko's expression turned to a glare as he looked my way. "There's no way your okay with this, Vivek?" He asked me. "I'm sorry, but your dad's scum. You even see the monster he made!? That's shit's already being handed out!"

It was childish, but I couldn't deny he was starting to get on my nerves.

I scoffed, "You think I didn't know? Of course he told me what he was doing. I don't like it, but what do you want me to do, smother him in his sleep?"

"That's not what I'm saying! Don't you see how messed up this is? Killing people, turning them into monsters. That guy was barely older than me, and your dad used him like a lab rat!"

That volunteer was our age?

That stopped me for a second. I knew he had a volunteer ready, but not that he was so young. It wouldn't be hard for Silco to take a young visionary and tell him what was best for the cause. It was such a terrible thing, but I could imagine him doing it. For a life to end like that…

I wouldn't let his sacrifice go to waste. I had to make it count.

"Of course it's awful, Ekko…but what else can we do? Piltover won't listen to anything else," I said with certainty.

Ekko looked at me with horror. "That's what this is about?" He asked out loud. "Not power or control, but Piltover?"

Jinx stayed silent, letting me talk.

"It's always been about Piltover. They bleed us dry, Ekko! Kick us when we're down! It's inevitable that we're going to clash, at least this way we can choose the when!"

Revolution was inevitable, I knew enough Earth history to see the writing on the wall.

"You think I don't hate them either? Man, I don't even get to see my parents. They spend every day working in the mines! That's why Benzo was looking after me! He just wanted to help people," he finished his rant by pointing at me. "And your father had him killed! Had Vander killed!"

It's not like I was unsympathetic. If I was in his shoes, I would be angry too.

I sighed. "You're right, he did. Vander and Benzo were good people, and my dad had them killed," I said gently. "I talked with Vander, you know? I know for a fact that he was a good man. But Ekko…maybe they were just what the Undercity wanted, and not what they needed. Maybe things will be better under us in the long run."

He shook his head violently. "In the long run?! Nah man, you gotta think about the now. People are dying now, that drug is getting pushed right now."

Don't make it seem like I don't care. I grit my teeth. I've shed tears over this, of course I do!

"I know that! Don't think I don't have plans to help! I know people are what makes a city, I'm not saying that they're not! I can't make shit happen overnight!"

This was getting personal, even more so than before. I could feel that burn in my chest that only grew hotter with every word.

"No, you are saying that! What the Undercity needs? The city didn't need Benzo dead, it didn't need Vander and his family dead!" Ekko rounded on Jinx. "And you're fine with this too, Powder? What about Vander, he took you and Vi in!"

"He always paid more attention to her!" She screamed. Jinx was starting to get unstable. I could see it in the way she breathed, the way her eyebrows were tensing.

"He did his best! And Vi was always there for you, she loved you so much!"

Tears began to fall from her eyes.

"Violet left me. She never cared!"

Ekko took a step forward, his hands curling to fists.

"You know that's not true! What're you saying?! She always cared! What about Claggor, Mylo!"

"Stop! They don't-" she shook her head. "I-I didn't!"

"Ekko, that's enough!" I tried to cut in. But of course, he didn't stop there.

Tears began to fall from his own eyes. "They were your family. They looked out for you. And you're turning your back just like that? You betrayed them!"

"It was a mistake!" Jinx screeched so loud it hurt my ears. She grabbed her arms, hunching in on herself. "I didn't—I didn't mean to! I only wanted to help!"

It was like the breath was knocked out of him. Ekko took a step back in shock. His mouth slackened. The boy was a genius, and he spent much more time with Jinx than me. He was aware of the explosions she made. It wouldn't be too much of a stretch for him to put things together from the context.

"Powder…the explosion, the fire, did you…" He licked his suddenly dry lips. "Was that…you? You did that?"

Jinx didn't respond as she started to pace rapidly. "It wasn't my fault, it wasn't. I only wanted to-" She suddenly snapped her head to the right, where no one was standing. "That's not what I'm saying!"

"What…Powder, you…" Ekko trailed off from his sentence. He watched with wide eyes as Jinx lost herself.

Jinx suddenly slapped her own cheek. "Just shut up!" She screamed out hoarsely, starting to rapidly slap at her face. It was like bad code stuck in a logic loop.

I rushed to her, grabbing her arm. As soon as she felt my touch, she lunged at me, forcing me to sit down. My sister clung to me tightly, every inch of her was pressed against me. Obviously, I instantly hugged her back.

"I-I didn't-" Jinx couldn't even finish before another cry racked her entire body.

"Shh, just focus on my touch," I said gently, rocking her in my arms. I could feel the sobs against my chest. The warbly moans as her voice caught in her throat. Her shoulders shaking with every rapid breath she took.

I put my head over Her's, glancing up to see Ekko watching in horror. "Get out of here, Ekko. She's not coming with," I said, glaring at him.

He just watched the scene in silence. Then, he nodded slightly, starting to walk backwards. "…Yeah." Ekko kept his gaze on the girl I was holding. "I guess this is goodbye then…Powder." It was the last thing he said before turning around and disappearing in an alley.

I sighed, definitely not gonna be an ally.

I continued to hold her, rocking us as I tried to let my contact ground her. We stayed there for a while as I listened to her sobs. It was only when they started to quiet that she carefully took her head out from my chest. Jinx looked up at me with her puffy red eyes, tears still falling. Snot ran from her nose and fell to her lips. She looked so afraid, so desperate.

It felt like my heart was shattering to pieces. I couldn't help but start to tear up myself, my eyes starting to tense. Looking at her like this, someone I started to love as my family, how could I not? I wiped her snot with my sleeve and then hugged her again. This time more gently.

I waited some time more before her breathing evened out. I could feel her relax in my arms. What she needed right now was to relieve some tension.

"Do you…want to go blow something up?" It felt almost comical, asking her that after what just happened.

"…Can I?" She asked me hesitantly.

But I knew best how to help her.

"If you want to…then we can."

At this point, I was sure of that. It was my responsibility.

Noise was a constant in Zaun. It was something I've noted to myself several times. That's why it was always so noticeable when it was muffled.

Jinx needed a place to relax. It was too far away, and probably too dangerous, to get to the lower levels of the Sump by ourselves. And people were already twitchy, setting off some explosives where they could hear would only cause a scene. The Whump nest would probably be too much stimulation right now, so that was off too.

Thus, I took her to the only other place that came to mind.

We walked into the ruined building, bits of glass crunching under our steps. There was paper strewn about. Old reports and statistics, I could smell the old ink alongside the damp wood. This was one of the several buildings that were run-down in the area. If I had to describe it, it would be lost, like an author searching for the best metaphor to use.

The wood was so rotted, the building was almost torn in two. The opening led to a sharp cliff on a hill overlooking most of the city. It gave a clear view of the Entresol and some of the Sump. It was the core of what made this Undercity 'Zaun.'

This was the cliff my father brought me to the day I shot Jagger. The first man I ever killed, only a few short months ago.

No one would bother us here.

I sighed and sat down on the edge of the building, letting my feet dangle. I patted the space next to me as I stared at the city. Jinx was at my side in only a moment. I didn't say anything else. We sat in silence for a moment before I heard Jinx rustling next to me. I didn't turn to look, simply staring at the black spires reaching to the 'sky.'

The smog was thick today. It made the spires seem like lighthouses, calling all the lost and the weary, the downtrodden and the strange. The sound was muffled from here. The stomp of feet, the noise of music and pipes and steam compression. It was so much more somber at this place. Almost like the city itself was some far-off dream.

I remembered Jagger's words that day. That the 'dream was dead.'

Jinx grabbed one of the grenades she kept in her satchel and lobbed it off the cliff.

I disagreed with him on that.

I could hear, even feel, the explosion from where I was sitting. Bits of rock were torn from the cliff's face. The vibration rattled the old wood. We were far enough aways that no one would hear the pop. It's not like gunshots were uncommon anyways.

"Do you want to talk about anything?" I questioned, watching the lights in the smog.

"There's nothing to even talk about," Jinx immediately shot back, roughly pulling the pin on another grenade. She held it to side for a moment before throwing it, at this point she was confident enough to not need to count out loud.

"Hmm." I glanced at her. Jinx's eyes were still red, and she was clearly tired, but the sadness seemed replaced by annoyance. Or maybe it was resignation?

What does she need right now?

Assurance.

But words were empty, I could tell her the same thing a thousand times and it wouldn't change anything. Touch helped her, she came to me when things got bad. That was something physical. Observable action is what she needs right now. Something more than a hug, something to show my commitment to her. That I meant the things I said.

I think I have just the thing…

"Hey, Jinx," I started. "You ever hear about a blood oath?"

She turned to me, drawing her knees to her chest. "…What?"

"It's this thing that really close friends do. They cut themselves, mix their blood, and from then on, their blood siblings. Forever tied together, no matter what." I smiled at her. "I know we're not really related by blood, but…"

I took my thumb to my mouth, pressing it against my canine tooth. I bit down as hard as I could, wincing at the pinprick that cut into me. A drop hit my tongue, filling my mouth with that distinct coppery taste.

It was dangerous to do this in a place like the Undercity. That made it mean all the more.

I held out my thumb to Jinx, her eyes wide. "If we do this, then we'll be related by blood. We'll be tied together even more than we already are."

She hesitated, bottom lip twitching as she eyed my wound. Then, in a flash she stuck her thumb into her mouth and fiercely bit down. Jinx did it so hard, that a bit of blood fell to the corner of her lip when she withdrew her thumb.

I had to show her that I wasn't just playing house. That I could put my money where my mouth was.

"Promise me," she said, staring right through me. "Promise that you won't…leave me."

I kept my smile, pushing my thumb forward. "I promise."

Jinx started to slowly push hers as well. "Okay," she whispered, soft as a summer breeze.

Our thumbs pressed together. I could feel my cut stretch from the contact, but our blood mixed.

"Then from now on, we're siblings in every way that matters," I said to her.

Slowly, she shuffled my way, opening her arms and letting me pull her in. I held her close, listening to her even breaths.

"Vi…stay with me," she softly murmured, cheek pressed against me.

I turned to the view from the cliff.

"Always."

The green of its neon glow lit up my face. I could feel the damp air on my skin. I could barely see the city, as the smog grew, but I knew what it held. The life that filled those streets. The stories waiting to be told.

The dream wasn't dead.

I would make sure of it.

Chapter 10: I'll Put A Spell On You

That's the last chapter of this mini "Childhood" arc. Next is an interlude, then a small timeskip where they're a bit older and can start making a reputation for themselves.

If there's any character I get right, It has to be Jinx. Her childhood with Silco hasn't been shown yet in the show. But I'm working with the idea that she's a lot less confident right after the bombing. I'll get to the kinky shit eventually, but I want to build up to it first.

I want Vivek and Jinx's inevitable relationship to be fucked up/hot/romantic/demented from anyone looking from the outside in.

As always, open to constructive criticism.

Thank you for reading!

Interlude: Topside Tango

I haven't had too much time to write, so I couldn't edit this as much.
Really loving Season 2 so far. I can already see myself going a kinda different direction, even if I use the same characters.

It makes sense for Ambessa to show up, and of course for Black Rose to follow. That's gonna be chaotic. Things are gonna be a bit different for Jinx and her arc too, given that she'll have Vivek to rely on. Also, holy shit is Sevika's new arm cool. I don't regret any of the decisions I made though, I can come up with some cool stuff on my own.

"Sheriff Marcus, we will now hear your final report on the stolen research materials-tentatively referred to as 'Hexgems.'"
Marcus kept his expression straight, his hands folding behind him as he stood at the ready.
He ignored the uncatchable itch hidden behind his eyepatch. It went deeper than the skin, it felt like it was coiled behind his skull. Marcus stood before the council, all 7 of its illustrious seats filled.
The chairs remained low to the ground, they did not lord above the room. The table was shaped into Piltover's national symbol, a gear of progress. The space as a whole was wide. Polished floors stretched to accommodate a large amount of watchers for when there was a public session. The room was built at the very top of Piltover, above even the clouds, allowing warm light to flood in from the large windows. The light sparkled off the bits of gold encrusted onto the walls.
Through those windows, all of Piltover could be seen. Even the poorer buildings across the river.
"Councilors," Marcus began, his voice steady. "After a thorough investigation, I can confirm that this was a robbery gone wrong. Tensions have been high in the Undercity. When the group that attacked us did so, it was only to pick a fight. As this was a small group, Sherrif Grayson followed procedure and called for any enforcers in the area. However, our back-up arriving only made the group more desperate."
His eye stared at the window, at what lay beyond it. "They had no understanding of what the bag held. This was not a coordinated attack, merely the actions of a few opportunistic street thugs."
"Merely?" Counciler Torman scoffed, his bald head shining in the light. "If you forget, we lost four enforcers alongside a decorated sheriff, let alone the man who supposedly ordered the break-in in the first place! You can't make light of this situation!"
Marcus clenched his fists, ignoring the bubbling feeling inside of him. "I can assure you, sir; this is not a situation I take lightly."
Shoola's mechanical neckpiece clicked in slow clockwork movements as she turned to Counciler Torman. "I think it's important to remember that our new sheriff has a personal connection to this case. I do not think his competence is in question regarding this particular matter."
"More importantly, I think it should be noted that our citizens have grown uppity enough to attack enforcers in the street," Salo said, combing a hand through his blond hair. "We've been disconnected from our Undercity for far too long. We need to treat them with a firmer hand, show that our presence can reach even there."
Marcus felt the pain flair in his eye as he turned to Salo, the wound still in the process of healing. "If I may, Counciler, I think this would have the opposite effect. Everyone has heard of the explosion at this point. If we increase our patrols underground, it could embolden further attacks. Our best course of action may be to let the heat die down first."
Marcus knew Grayson for years, but in the end, there was nothing left of her to bring to her family. Not even a speck. But the others… images flashed through his mind. A shot fired hastily, bodies mangled and burned, the smell of ash in the air, a searing heat pouring down his face.
Silco is a despicable monster, Marcus frowned in thought. But he's right about one thing…there needs to be a stabilizing influence. If there's not…
It didn't leave him. The pain he felt that day. The shrapnel that would pierce through him, forever robbing him of half his vision. Every time he would close his eye he would see it. A flash of blue staining itself into him, over and over.
Grayson was a good woman. She fought for years to protect the people. She deserved a better end than that, to be disintegrated in the gutter. And if someone as good as her was willing to work with the Undercity to do what was right…
Then a wretch like me can at least keep the peace.
"This was a tragedy all around," Heimerdinger, the honored founder, interrupted, his furry mustache pointing down in sorrow. "One that could have been avoided. And one that shows we must reassess our interactions with the Undercity. But that is not the primary purpose of this meeting. Sherrif Marcus, to confirm once again, there are truly no traces left of the Hexgems?"
"I've made sure of it. Nothing is let of the gemstones."
"And the other explosion reported later that evening?"
"Completely separate. The yield was much weaker than what we-I experienced." Marcus kept his face as stony as possible, not allowing the disgust to show on his face. "It couldn't have been a Hexgem. And random acts of violence aren't entirely unexpected in the Undercity. As I said, tensions have been higher than usual."
There were no other officers around to see the color of the second explosion.
Marcus hated it. Cleaning up Silco's mess. Everything was his fault, it all happened from his mad grab for power. He was a ruthless gangster that wanted control by any means necessary. The only thing he cared for was money and power.
But at the same time…
Silco didn't kill Grayson. Not directly, at least.
Heimerdinger sighed, "…I see. Still, that such destruction could be caused by just a few gems…" He narrowed his eyes at his fellow councilors. "Once again, I would motion that the research of 'Hextech' be entered as a forbidden study, and subsequently be banned from the city."
"Counciler," the Medarda spoke up, smiling as the golden flakes shimmered under her eyes. "While I respect your caution, I must remind you that Jayce has proven that Hextech can be produced without those destructive side effects. Regrettable as it was, the explosion the gemstones caused was the result of unfinished research materials."
Counciler Mel turned her attention back to Marcus. "But as you said, that is not the purpose of this meeting, no?"
Heimerdinger nodded, crossing his arms in his chair. "Of course, forgive me. I shall withhold my judgment until our final inspection on the matter," he said, before addressing Marcus. "Sherrif Marcus, do you have any further information to add?"
There's a man named Silco taking control of the Undercity.
He was the one pulling the strings behind the attack.
There's a drug that can turn people into monsters.
The thoughts quickly entered his head. How could he even begin to explain what led to Grayson's death and his own role in it. Even if he wasn't entirely at fault, even if there was a perfectly acceptance target to point at. The shame Marcus felt, the guilt that ate at him…it just wouldn't let him speak up.
The true culprit of the robbery is in Stillwater…
And then there was the girl, Vi. He could barely think straight when he grabbed her. She was going to Silco, and Marcus…he just couldn't see a girl that young dead.
And when Silco asked to make sure she was gone for good…
My fiancé is expecting.
It was a thought that bounced in his head constantly these days. The excitement was always there, in the back of his mind. He proposed as soon as she told him. He would have a child. He would get married, and a child would be on the way.
When he thought about killing Vi-
I just couldn't do it.
As evil as Silco was. Marcus knew that without him, the Undercity would fall into anarchy. They would ravage each other. Tear down everything in a rage of fire and death, leaving behind the smell of charred flesh, and blood, and shit.
And then they would turn their attention topside. When he realized that, that was when his excitement turned to fear.
The Undercity would lose. He was sure of it. But all that destruction…to have it be on his hands. To hold his child with those bloodied hands. To feel that weight pressing against him, to have his eye explode in his own skull, to know it could have been avoided.
I just can't do it.
"No sir, nothing left to report," Marcus said, stiff as a board.
This has to be better than the alternative…

Viktor checked the calculations for the fifth time.
The algorithm was stretched on the long blackboard. It was a kaleidoscope of numbers and symbols. It was another language, one that only the brightest of scientists could understand. It took the probabilities of 'what if' and turned it into certainty, turned the immaterial to material.
That was the true power of Hextech. To plunder the heavens, to drag dreams closer to reach.
"The preliminary checks are ready," Viktor said, stepping back to admire his work. "With this, we shouldn't cause a rip into space-time and create a black hole."
A fascinating concept-black holes. Although no physical proof was found yet, they had already been mathematically proven to exist by Piltover's finest minds. Truthfully, it was Professor Heimerdinger's discovery. He spearheaded the team that discovered it, but of course, he was far too humble to not spread the credit.
Jayce finished drawing an 'X' to the ground with chalk, sighing. "Okay, okay…I'm finished on my end."
The two were in their new research room. There was enough space to conduct their experiments and prove the worth of Hextech to the council. Each side of the room clearly designated who it belonged to. Jaye's side was cluttered, with stacks of paper sloppily piled on top of each other. The light was brighter, allowing him to find whatever he needed.
Viktor's side was of course neat and contained. Each device and schematic precisely placed for ease of use. His side was darker. Growing up in the Undercity, he was more comfortable with a dim light. It strained less at his eyes. And in these long hours he would spend here, it was better to be comfortable than not.
Viktor hobbled to a stop by Jayce. They stood before a table with several devices cupping Hexgems. There was a mesh of wires that connected to small golden mounds topped with blue stones. Each of these devices had runes carved into them. And at the far end of the table was a rock, similarly, carved with runes.
Jayce placed his hand on the switch to control the experiment. A clockwork mound that turned like the switch for a kitchen burner. Each turn of the switch would activate a certain rune, and allowed the execution of the formula the two wrote out.
"You ready?" Jayce asked, turning to him.
"We have been working on this for weeks. Please just start it before I throw up from anticipation."
Jayce chuckled, "Alright, well…here we go." He turned the switch, and the room lit up blue.
The Hextech theory was revolutionary. To put magic in the hands of the everyday man. To use technology to manipulate reality. To use his skills for something that actually mattered and could help people,
It was a dream come true.
Runes appeared as if they were painted in the air as Jayce cycled through the switch. With each turn, the room grew a darker blue. The stone on the table started to shake and levitate, runes swirling around it. There was a noise, like music created from a wine glass, a smooth yet high-pitched hum. The noise grew, blue started to flash around the stone, before-
A sound cracked through the room. A sharp pop like a distant canon. Papers were flung up from the force of it.
The stone was now placed exactly on the chalk lining the floor.
The two watched with wide eyes.
"It worked…" Viktor breathed out, tightening his grip around his cane.
Shallow breaths came form Jayce before he started to laugh. "It did…it actually worked!" He quickly turned to Viktor and wrapped him in a hug. The inventor could only smile and give him a pat in return. He was too happy to admonish Jayce for getting into his personal space.
And if he had to admit it, he liked having a friend around.
"Viktor, we did it!" he said, before letting him go. "This is visible proof we can replicate teleportation. The council can't deny the possibilities! With this we can make a permanent gate for teleportation, cut down on transportation costs, gain access to materials faster, connect the world-so many things!"
Viktor straightened out his crumpled suit. "I will admit, this is an incredible step forward. But Jayce, don't get ahead of yourself." He gestured to the table. "This took our entire stipend to complete, and we only barely made managed to make it work. To build a gate as large as you're proposing? That would take an incredible amount of resources that we don't have currently."
Jayce sighed. "You're right…you're right," before he suddenly stuck up a finger. "But! We already have two councilors backing us, and clan Ferros has pledged to invest in the project as well! Surely more will follow after they see this!"
Jayce placed a hand onto his friend's shoulder. "Viktor…we can do this. We can change the world together. Let everyone understand the miracle of magic. Hell, maybe we can even make a gate to reach the moon one day!"
"Okay, calm down. Let's focus on what we can reach now," Viktor laughed. "I didn't say that I didn't believe you, just that it will be hard to accomplish."
Viktor was born sickly. Where other kids rough-housed he instead tinkered. He ignored the jealousy he felt and turned inward, focusing on what he could control. The skills that set him apart from others. He ignored that feeling deep inside him, that yearned to feel the wind on his skin, the beating of his heart, the pounding of his feet.
He wanted to run.
But that was just a dream, a natural one to have, given his circumstances. But there were more important things to strive for. Another dream that was within his reach. For him to have the opportunity to pursue it so, to make life better for others, to show the merit of his skills. It was everything he ever wanted.
Viktor stared up at Jayce, the man that enabled all of this in the first place.
"But…I trust you," Viktor said. "We can do this."
No matter how many sleepless nights it took, he wasn't letting this chance slip him by.
"We can change the world."

Jericho Swain felt a stinging pain in his arm.
It was burning more than it normally did.
The pain…it whispered to him. It spoke of eternal damnation and torture. It explained the horrors that would be inflicted on him. Of rusted nails slammed into his ears. Of hooks carving into his eyes. Of his tongue being crudely ripped out. It said that his throat would be cut, that he would be held upside down and that an endless stream of blood would fall. That his ligaments and tendons would be cut, and he would be bled dry like a pig. His skin would be pulled from his body, but he would not be allowed to die.
Swain ignored the sting with practiced ease.
It tried again. The pain in his arm yelled of failure. It exclaimed that the empire would fall. That everything he ever built would be broken. That the walls would fall around him, and he would fail. The beauty of Noxus and its dream of equality would turn to nothing. Like a mote of sand swept up in a storm. His arm screamed that his carefully laid plans would be destroyed. That no matter how hard he fought, Noxus was surely doomed.
Jericho Swain knew that this was a possibility. That if he failed, the empire, the jewel of Runeterra, would be laid low so utterly it would never again rise.
If he failed.
The Grand General of Noxus knew better than to concern himself with 'what if.'
He had to succeed, there was no other answer. He would not allow the dream of Noxus to fall. It was as simple as that.
"Something has changed," Swain mused to himself, his voice deep and aristocratic.
He was on a balcony, overlooking the capital and the twin spires that rose into the air. The city was etched from marble and volcanic rock. Asphalt was laid every which way, paths clearly defined. Stairs reached up the city around statues of old heroes. The rain that previously fell from the dark clouds above was filtered expertly. The sifts lining the roads and the buffered roofs prevented any flooding.
Swain glanced at his left arm. It had been lost in the invasion of Ionia, but he had replaced it with a demonic red, constantly glowing and roiling. It was his prize for outwitting a demon, for tricking the trickster and stealing every bit of its power for himself.
Raum was the demon of secrets, and Swain had inherited all that it once had. What he didn't know, he fiercely coveted, sending his crows to spy all over the world.
Swain alone understood the magnitude of Noxus' enemies, the unstoppable war to come that only he could see. Of the chittering salivating monsters in the dark. The fallen Champions sealed in their own weapons that would rattle the world upon their awakening. The dark mist that expanded every day.
Truly, his life would be easier without the cult, and the pale woman who led them, doing their best to stymy his efforts. Black Rose would surely soon notice something was amiss as well.
Good. It's more entertaining this way.
The pain in his arm could mean a number of things. But what he knew for certain was that his arm was sensitive to magic. Something was irrevocably different than it was before. It was like a ripple from some event that had found itself to him.
If this is magical in nature…then the Arcane is beginning to stir.
He took it for what it was, a sign that he was once again correct for his preparations. That Noxus needed to be ready.
"Beatrice," Swain hissed. The noise cut through continents, pulling something wicked his way. The General extended his hand as a crow appeared from nowhere. She perched on him, twisting her head to the side. There were three glowing orange eyes on her, like a candlestick flickering in the dark, barely sparking.
"Find it," he ordered. There was no need to explain further, she understood his intentions fully.
As much as he would prefer to personally search, there was little for him to go on. And even less reason to do so, there was no need to muser the resources right now. This was merely precaution, to prove his expectations. The source need not be inherently hostile to Noxus, but even so, it was a prelude.
Have others not felt it? Could this ripple be a consequence of Raum's nature?
Besides, he was far too busy holding the empire together. He was currently preventing a second invasion of Ionia. Noxus was still recovering from the first, it was the height of foolishness to rush into a second. Vladimir was already attempting to drum up support for the plan with the old houses. It was no doubt done just in an attempt to annoy him and draw his attention elsewhere.
Most assuredly, the weight of Grand General could only be held by one such as Jericho Swain.
The Champion of Noxus.

Interlude: Topside Tango

Just want to reiterate in case anyone hasn't been following the thread: I'm not going to massively expand the scope of the story. No world ending threats every Tuesday, or anything like that. I feel like that would be a trap for me to fall into. Don't get me wrong, that would be fun to write, but the core of this story is the Twin Cities. Everything will be mostly focused on Piltover and Zaun and the particular flavor they bring to the setting.
That said, I think it makes sense for Swain to notice somethings up and be like "wtf" and then get even more involved once he realizes t hat LeBlanc is mucking around in Piltover

Also, there's a part in Lux's bio that says, "And there were fearful whispers, rumors from beyond the great mountains, that magic was rising once more in the world…" I adore the idea that Hextech is the first domino in a series of world changing events.

Hence the fic's summary being what it is.

Time For Action

Chapter Notes

We've made it to the current (and soon to be finished) arc.

Act 3 this week...I don't want it to end...
Once again, open to constructive criticism. I've never wanted to make a good story more than I do now. Writing this has really lit a fire under my ass.

Doesn't Silco look he was writing poetry in the bar flashback? I already said Vivek used to do that! The parallels! DO YOU SEE THE PARALLELS I CAN MAKE WITH THIS.

I loved it when the music pounded against my ears.
I leaned on a rail, watching the people gyrate on the bottom floor.
The Last Drop was far from what it used to be. The lights were darker, a tinted blue. The building had been torn up and extended to give more space. Neon lined the bar counter and along the walls. Alcohol of all kinds was served, the purple Shimmerwine among them. As the name implied, it was Shimmer watered down to a drinkable form, one of the new products to supply the Shimmer craze.
There were all kinds of it now. Not every drug peddled was a Shimmer variant, but it naturally beat out the competition by the fact that there was a large supply, and it gave a high like no other.
I watched as a man in the corner pulled his eyelid open. He raised a dropper to his eye, a bit of purple collecting at its end. It dangled precariously before it fell down, coating the eye. The man sighed as he leaned back.
New forms of Shimmer were starting to be pushed out, the dosage being different in each one. You could smoke it, drink it, drop it, shoot it, hell you could even bake it into brownies. And people just couldn't get enough.
Piltover included.
The vibration rumbled through the rail I was holding. The people continued to dance, with some being dressed more fashionable than others. Clothes with no patchwork, made of some of the finest silks I had ever seen. Their teeth were straight and pearly. But what was the most telling was when they were served drinks-they had no callouses on their hands.
A bunch of snobby Piltover kids wanted to see what life was like down-under.
Good, that was part of the plan after all.
Normally, a Piltie wouldn't last before they could get this low. But we had measures for that. A specific path was curated, guards rapidly switched, to allow a few rich kids to get to the club. Give them a taste of the wild side. If they strayed from that path….well that was on them.
More would come regardless.
It was strange, like they completely forgot their fear from two years ago. And what happened to the last few enforcers that came this low into the Undercity.
Piltover may have forgotten, but Zaun most certainly didn't. When you didn't have to struggle for much, you could afford to forget. We still remembered the explosion in front of Benzo's. The fear that it brought us. It lingered in the back of our minds like a bitter aftertaste.
Things could change a lot in just two years.
Now that Shimmer was here, it wasn't going anywhere, no drug could substitute for it. A demand was created, and so we obliged. We gave them the chance to forget their fears, to let go of the worries of tomorrow, forget the pain that wracked their bodies, the acid that burned at their lungs with every breath. We gave them an escape, let them hope for something better. We let them dream.
And with every bit of Shimmer used, the dream became more real.
I was used to this sight by now. Not numb, as that implied I felt nothing. I cared for what I was doing, understood the epidemic I was helping. There was simply no use in torturing myself over something I already knew. I weighed the scales of what was more important to me. I would never regret the path I walked.
I turned around, smoothing out the white side of my hair before walking to the office. My new color had come in fully. It wasn't what I ever expected, but I was lucky to just get off with that. I was thinking of growing the whiter side out, draw attention to it instead of hiding. Like Silco said, I had to wear it as a badge.
At least the Whumps liked it. They thought it was hilarious.
I gave a nod to the two grunts standing guard at the door. A pair with stocky builds short and buzzed blonde hair, flat noses and cauliflowered ears. I called them Tweedledee and Tweedledum, on account of them being twins. I could only tell them apart because Dum had a bit shorter hair than his brother.
They returned my nod and stepped aside, Dee opening the door for me.
Silco's chair was empty, but others were filled. The couch had a few occupants, familiar faces such as Slim Jim and Ran, the remainders of the warehouse crew that were trusted to be part of the inner circle. Extra seats were brought in to prepare for the meeting. Mine was closest to the desk, a black office chair with wheels. Jinx liked it when they spun.
I made it to my chair in just a few quick steps. I was growing tall, my growth spurt starting to hit at the ripe age of 14. Poor Jinx could barely keep up. I doubted we would ever again stand at the same height.
The sound from the club dampened to a low hum as the door shut. A side effect of that ever-dependable Zaunite acoustics.
"Vivek," Ran nodded in greeting, a black bang covering one of her eyes.
"Surprised Jinx isn't using you like a teddy bear," she said as I took my seat.
"Believe it or not, we don't spend all the time together," I replied, glancing up to the grenades and other colored bits hanging from the ceiling like ornaments.
I held my arms out, and only a moment later, a blur smashed into my lap. Licky flinched from the couch as I caught my sister in a princess carry.
"We just spent most of the time together."
"Oh," Ran dryly said, leaning back to the couch.
Jinx had grown a little these past few years. I made sure she ate, but she stayed thin. I could almost see her ribs from her brown crop top. She was starting to dress less conservatively, searching for a style that was distinctly her own. Her hair was styled into a singular braid held by bronze bangles that ended at her lower back.
It took me a while to get that right.
"God, were you up there the whole time?!" Licky huffed out, a hand on his heart. He took a second to catch his breath. "Aren't you a little too old to be sitting on big brother's lap?"
Jinx rolled her head back to look at him, practically hanging off of me at this point. "Aren't you a little too young to be having a bunch of fake teeth?"
His hand snapped to his mouth.
Hey, don't poke at a man's teeth….
"Don't worry, Licky," I spoke up with a pearly white smile. "I like your teeth!"
"That's not my name…"
It was best not to antagonize the soldiers too much.
Jinx caught my attention by a snap of her fingers. My eyes lingered on her nails. They were long and chipped at places from her tinkering.
They were also painted black and white.
First the black was placed as a canvas, then she used the white to draw little pictures on her nails: smiley faces, one with 'X's' for eyes and a tongue hanging out, stars and bombs, what looked like a monkey. I had no idea how she got that much detail with such a small space. She was better with that stuff than I was. An artist, I most certainly wasn't.
"I gotcha the goods, boss man," Jinx said, a hand reaching into her satchel to pull out a circular device covered in pink and blue scribbles. "Ta-da! One yo-yo to your exact specifications."
I grinned at seeing my commission. It was time I started getting experience with compilated finger movements. I was set on strings, but I needed to get used to using them with weight attached, hence the practice yo-yo.
"I added a little spice to it, but don't open here! Or it could get messy."
My grin dropped. I took it from her, feeling its unusual weight.
Did you put a bomb in my yo-yo?
"Yeah, that's par the course," I sighed, before giving a little smile. "Thanks, Jinx. I'm sure it's perfect."
She swayed in my grip, causing the chair to move slightly. "Sooo, do I get my commission price now?"
"Here? How shameless…" Still, I did as she asked. I leaned my head down, leaving a big, fat, wet, kiss on her forehead.
Jinx giggled at the act, ignoring the blank stares and quick glances of our fellow goons.
You'd think they've never seen a doting brother before…
Then again, this was Zaun after all. That was entirely possible. I could only pity them.
The door opened again, and the humor left the room.
Silco came in with Sevika at his back. He looked as severe as ever, a fancy new coat added to his wardrobe. His burn had gotten worse recently, although it wasn't as noticeable right now. He took care to cover it with makeup, not wanting to show more weakness than he had to.
Silco stopped at his desk, leaning on it with a hand behind him. He grabbed a cigar, waiting for Sevika to light it before he spoke. "We due for a review before our next expansion."
"Always straight to business," Jinx faux whispered to me. My lips twitched.
"Our progress so far has been steady, but the time for preparation is over, Shimmer production is stable-Renni has agreed to a deal. Everything must be in full account before we move forward." Silco gazed around the room with a glower. "Lock, how goes the renovations?"
Silco did these private meetings every so once and awhile. I wasn't sure why, we all reported to him individually. I, at least, made sure he knew everything I did businesswise.
"Space has been cleared for the new bars. A couple more months till it's all done," Silm Jim said. "We've had little issue with local thugs. They know better than to mess with us."
"Good. Dustin, the collections?"
"Same as always, boss. Comin' in stable," Licky answered.
Silco nodded, "Rico, the drops?"
Down the line he went, receiving the reports he already knew, one after another. It painted a picture of preparation. New buildings, steady growth, consolidation. We had our roots in the ground now. The Baron's were hesitant to escalate to all-out war. Some of them, like Renni and Margot, had already put their support behind us. But it wasn't rare that there were skirmishes here and there. And there were always wannabe Baron's and gang leaders who grabbed whatever scraps that fell from the table.
That was why it was important that everything we did was ironclad. For the first time in the Undercity's history, we were the closest to gaining full control.
And I liked to think Silco saved the best news for last.
"Vivek, Jinx, what's the general status on the Whump rings?"
"I am genuinely surprised there weren't more rumors about them," I said seriously. "We're finding new nests all the time. Not all of them join, of course, but making ourselves known naturally draws more to our workforce. At this point, every Whump In the city should know they could get gainful employment from us."
Jinx, clearly bored with the meeting, pushed off the ground with a foot, sending us twirling in a slight spin.
I continued my report with a straight face, not showing any reaction to her antics as I was forcibly pulled from Silco's gaze.
"We're doing good on supply too. We're making sure the Puffcaps get sent to Jeryk's guys to sell. And we've taught the Whumps to replant any Shimmer flower seeds they get, so as long as we're careful, we shouldn't have to worry about overharvesting."
Jinx's arm crept up my own, moving in playful wavy motions. Her hand half rising before falling back down. Once her palm met my own, I followed her movements. Our hands rose up like a fish swimming through air. I made sure to hold back a smile at Sevika's scoff.
It was funnier that way.
"Now that we've got the collection cycle ironed out, I think we can start training them for different roles," I finished.
Silco put out his cigar in the colorful ashtray Jinx gifted him. The ash crumpled, letting out a slight hiss. "Good, then we're on track. Fine job, all of you. You'll receive new orders soon. For now, make sure the work continues uninterrupted," he waved his hand lazily. "Dismissed. Jinx, Vivek, stay."
After an exchange of goodbyes, the room steadily emptied. Sevika gave me a glance before shutting the door behind us. Once again dulling the noise from the club.
We weren't in trouble or anything. Silco just made sure to spend what time he could with us before work stole him back.
Silco sighed as he sat in his chair. "Jinx, don't distract your brother in the middle of a meeting. Vek, don't let her."
"Hey, it's not like we're hearing anything new!" Jinx hopped out of my lap. "It's always the same things with these. We're making a little progress, we're kinda moving forward, profits up the wazoo, every meeting this year's been the same thing!"
Well…she's not wrong.
"Progress takes time, girl," he said, putting together his injector. "As our control grows, so too does the number of our enemies. It's better to be prepared than caught unaware." Silco offered the injector to her, as Jinx made her way around the desk.
She grabbed it and held it up in one quick motion. She took a breath, her energy dimming as she aligned it carefully.
It stabbed down once it was stable. Silco hissed, a line of purple shooting down face. He took a moment to recover, wiping his eye once he was done. It was an obvious Shimmer variant. I was a bit hesitant on him using Shimmer like that, but it worked better than his previous chemicals. And there was non addictive chem-tech.
"Hey…why do we have these meetings in the first place?" I asked from my chair. "You already know all this stuff, don't you?"
"Of course, I do," he said, caressing his eye. "However, this isn't just for me. Some progress is better than none. By sharing our reports openly, we increase their loyalty, show them that there is a goal being worked towards. That their effort is needed and is being recognized. This way, the other heads understand what's happening in our organization and can work together more efficiently."
Well…it makes sense.
Revolution was always going to be the goal, that would never change. But we weren't exactly fighting in the trenches yet. We still needed control of the city before we moved forward, and that required funding a successful gang empire. I believed hard, but we needed more than just belief. We needed actions, and to do that, we needed resources. And so, we had to run our empire like a conglomerate.
Criminal business was still business in the end.
We spent some more of our allocated family time together. Silco did his paperwork, Jinx came back to my lap, rambling all the while to our father. And I tossed my new yo-yo up and down.
It was heavier than what I remembered from a yo-yo, but that was what I asked for. I decided strings would be my weapon of choice. It was slow going, but I wasn't giving up on the idea.
Once it was built, I would use it to do more than just cut. I needed to constrict, to grab hold of people and objects. Which meant I needed to grow comfortable with different types of weight pulling at my fingers at different angles.
Eventually, I caught a glimpse of the mechanical clock on the wall.
I patted Jinx to let me up, stretching my arms once I was out of the chair.
"I guess It's time for me to do my rounds," I said, before giving a smile to my sister. "Would you like to come with me?"
She hesitated looking between me and Silco.
"Not this time," Silco interrupted, glancing up from his paperwork. "Jinx, I need you on a project, Vek can handle his review. If you're bored of our meetings, then I'll give you something to occupy your time. There are some new cybernetics from the Scrap Hackers I need you to look at, verify some of Smeech's claims."
Jinx sighed, rolling her eyes where he couldn't see.
"Aww…well there goes my afternoon." She gave me a small smile back. "Sorry, Vi. Go say hi for me."
I was happy she was at the point where she didn't have to constantly have my reassurance. Then again, it could just be that it was Silco she was spending time with. Any other person and she'd refuse. She still had her episodes, some days were worse than others, but it helped to know I was always close by.
We still shared a bed after all.
"Yeah, yeah, don't blow yourself up. Dad, don't let her." I gave a lazy wave, tucking my new yo-yo into my pocket and walking away.
I had to make sure my racoons hadn't burned down half the city yet.
Jinx and they were alike in that way.

I couldn't believe my eyes the first time I saw it. I was positively gobsmacked.
A car.
Cars were a thing here.
It made me feel like some caveman, but from my perspective, I thought Runeterra was all just knights and dragons. Which it still was, especially in Demacia. But I should've put two and two together when I realized we had cybernetic implants.
The technology levels across the different nations were weird. After asking around, I learned that cars-or automobiles, as they were often called here-were a newer Piltover invention. The engine didn't run off gasoline, but a type of modified steam engine. They were undoubtedly useful, but other nations didn't have the infrastructure or the need to make them. With maybe the exception of Noxus.
The other nations had animals of all kinds to ferry weight. War machines could be pulled by beasts the size of rhinos. Not to mention whatever esoteric secrets the nations might have, or their deeply rooted traditions that may be opposed to such an invention. I bet some would scoff at the idea, 'why spend valuable resources for something that we just don't need?' Or something like that.
So while things may change in the future, for now, cars were mainly in Zaun and Piltover.
Right now, I was taking a ride to one of my Whump rings. At least before I got close enough to disappear into the tunnels. It was sleek black car. The front was much longer than I was used to, to accommodate the engine, giving me the impression of an early 50's Earth style.
This engine, however, wasn't powered by steam, but a mix of chemical slurry. It was fuel intensive, but it was quieter than the alternative.
And people said Chem-tech was our answer to Hextech.
As if Chem-tech didn't come first.
They were building something large topside. Some type of tower with its steel roots going underground. Of course, the council would have to reassure the public in the wake of such a large build. Of course, they would give a hint to what they were building. Of course, they would puff with pride and announce the technology that would change the world.
Their vaunted Hextech.
If that wasn't proof, then nothing was. Originally, I knew little about this world I found myself in. But when I thought of the Twin Cities, I thought of our different types of tech. Already Chem-tech was starting to proliferate. I would bet a tooth that Hextech would similarly be everywhere in Piltover soon. Silco was right. I was right.
Zaun was inevitable.
It was only a matter of time.
That said, I had no idea how Hextech actually worked. I was sure of our independence, but that was no reason to be lazy. I could already see a future where the enforcers were equipped with sets of new Hextech weaponry.
I also wasn't too worried about any past info brokers tracking me down, trying to learn how I knew about Hextech. It was totally proabable that information leaked somehow on an upcoming scientific invention
Happened all the time.
There was also Vi to worry about. She hadn't shown up at all in the past two years, but I knew she would eventually pop her head up. I wasn't sure how I wanted to navigate that. If she did lose her memories things would be easier. I knew one thing for sure though, whatever happened, I wouldn't abandon Jinx.
But those were thoughts for later, I needed to focus on the now.
The black leather stretched as I sat back. I was in the back seat of Silco's car, my designated driver taking a hit of his cigar laced with Shimmer. The smoke he let out had purple bits in it. I had a driver now.
Crazy.
I leaned against my window, feeling the cold sting against my cheek. The world passed me by just a bit faster than a run at full sprint. We couldn't go at full speed, we still had to share the roads with pedestrians. And the city was still dense. It was dangerous to drive too recklessly.
I wish I could roll the windows down…
To feel the wind scream in my ears.
But that was too dangerous. I wasn't just a face in the crowd anymore. My half-and-half hair was distinct, even for Zaun. I was taking a bigger role in my father's organization, guiding the Whumps. People would start recognizing me, I couldn't risk it.
I missed this feeling.
It was just like running, but this way I could actually pay attention to what I was seeing.
Of the thugs eying the car as we passed. The kids pointing at it in excitement.
The new buildings starting to rise, the old ones being renovated. All forged from the wrought iron, repurposed metal slag.
Our architecture was dark, but it allowed the color to pop so much more. Green, with splices of blue, red, and orange. The neon hues that lit up our world. I had never seen a city so defined by color.
I wanted to see more.
The people eating salty noodles from an open stall. Bits of fish mixed into it.
A man getting Chem-tattooed on his back with a needle filled with green fluid.
The dice games and cards tossed. The groans and laughs with every game played.
I want-
"We made it, little prince," my driver interrupted, his bushy mustache bouncing.
I blinked, brought back to reality. "Oh, already? That was fast."
True enough, we were at our destination. From here, I could reach the tunnels by myself.
Enough introspection, I had work to do.
…I should take Jinx with me on a joyride sometime.

I moved through the tunnels quickly.
There were all kinds of passages in the Undercity. Holes and paths forgotten about. It made it easy for people to disappear in.
My yo-yo bounced up and down, the string tied around two fingers. I didn't know any tricks, so I would have to experiment on my own. I followed along the path that was now well memorized. It was a damp tunnel that could split off to new paths at any moment. Visibility was low, only the dim red floodlights let me see my hands.
Running drugs was good practice for this. I knew this place like the back of Jinx's hand.
In only a few more turns, I would reach the door and-
I stopped, narrowing my eyes.
I wasn't alone.
I could hear them growing louder, the soft steps turning to rapid slaps. The claws clicking against the bricks. There was soft chittering all around me. I glanced up, the vile molten orange eyes stared down at me. They were clinging to the celling like they were a kind of twisted bat. Their eyes promised chaos, destruction, and endless belly rubs.
One was rushing behind me, about to pounce and go for my neck.
I spun around and withdrew my weapon, yo-yo forgotten in my other hand.
A gun.
A finger pointed as a gun.
"Bang!" I fired my finger gun.
The monster dropped immediately, his momentum causing him to roll several times before landing on his back. A tongue popped out dramatically, a sign of his defeat.
Blowing off my gun, I walked over to my racoon and crouched down. He came back to life, eyes shooting open, soon as my fingers touched his stomach. He yipped in excitement, his snout in the trademark Whump grin. His brown fur was shorter and coarser on the stomach.
I gave him a final pat before standing up. The Whump jumped up and rushed ahead, leading me beyond the check point. The orange eyes in the darkness didn't follow, but I could hear their chittering hyena-like giggles.
A few more turns after, and I was passed the checkpoint.
The path ended at a rusted metal door, a valve for a handle. I waited for the Whump to start scratching at it, bits of rusted chips falling off the door. A small section in the middle of it slid open. My racoon stuck his snout up to it and yipped.
Identification provided; the door slowly opened. The guard minding the door, a man tatted up to his eyeballs with a scar going down his lip, gave me a nod. I smiled in return.
I went inside and basked in the madness.
It was a large room with an elongated dome celling. There were small openings along the walls, some were even high up, with Whumps crawling out and down the walls. Tables were set up, avoiding the grooves on the floor. A few of my non-Whump minions were directing everything, making sure to throw some snacks with every delivery brought.
This place was once one of the spare rooms used to prevent flooding. Water could collect here before being deposited somewhere else. It was easy enough to seal room off from the extended filtration system. The city wouldn't even suffer from it. There were just so many extras in case of an emergency.
Some of my raccoons had large mushrooms tied to their backs. Others held satchels or small metal boxes on themselves, no doubt holding flower petals. In and out they went, spawning from one hole or the next.
I used my drug dropping experience to help set this all up. With Silco's watchful eye of course.
Grab the goods, get to base safe, drop it off.
Then they'd get a snack for their efforts. And of course, I made sure they got full meals every day.
It was hard to keep track of them all. As much as I considered a nametag system, I was skeptical it would work. We had to set up a type of commission system to ferry them all. But I had to be careful not to encourage in-fighting. It was our golden rule. Work for me, and you get guaranteed food and playtime.
But don't fight your fellow Whump, and don't impede the operation.
Some Whumps off the clock screeched as I entered, the others too busy to notice me. They jumped on to me, creasing my suit. Their claws sneaked between the thread, leaving little red marks on my skin.
Thankfully, I never had to worry about that latter part.
"Hey, pals. Where's the capo?" I asked them.
One pointed in a direction from my shoulders, babbling in his incoherent tone. Another did his best ratatouille impression, grabbing my hair and trying to pull me away.
I let them lead me, smoothing out my hair after the one on my head jumped down.
A bit deeper in, we came to a Whump standing on a crate, barking off squeaky orders. My old red handkerchief was wrapped around his neck. His ears were covered by a fedora with a few holes.
Capo Cornelius ran a tight ship.
"Cornelius! Status report!" I blatantly interrupted him.
To his credit, he instantly fell into a salute, before rapidly squeaking and gesturing. He pointed to the distance and hopped around.
"Hmm, I see…I see," I nodded along, a hand on my chin.
I had absolutely no idea what he was saying.
But he did understand what I wanted from him. Cornelius was nominally in charge of everything Whump when it came to the job. I was joking around, but there were ways to communicate if things got serious.
I was hoping to teach them Piltover Sign Language one day.
I opened my arms in invitation, letting him jump to me and climb up my shoulder. He stood with his paws on his hips, a sign of the capo's authority.
"C'mon buddy, let's go loom over the workers."

Deckard pulled his jacket tighter around him.
It was cold in this part of the city. The heaters didn't work properly. That was dangerous for the average Sumpsnipe. It was probably because there were no fancy lights around, and no heat to come off of it. The place was dark. It made the buildings feel like tombstones. Felt like a monster was gonna pop outta the corner.
He was waiting for his squad of racoons to report back to him. He just had to make sure they had their goods and send them on their way.
It wasn't what he expected, becoming a rat wrangler. But he didn't hate it. He was lucky really.
Luck's more important than anything else.
It was his job to look after his friends, he was always the leader. Give them more than what they had before. Even if they had to stick someone up to do it. Even if he had to let someone else take the lead.
Silco gave them an opportunity. And once their foot was in the door, they gained his attention.
Now, they didn't worry about having to share their scraps. They didn't have to stay in cold parts of the city like this. They had enough money to do whatever the hell they wanted. Their boss was grabbing more power every day.
And they had respect.
The other street kids looked away when they walked around. They had a level of protection that wasn't there before.
A Chem-Baron took notice of them. And just like Deckard thought, it was the only way to get anywhere. This job was good to him and his friends.
He knew better than to mess it up.
Vivek gave him a bright smile, his eyes crinkling. Mud stuck to his hair and cheek, but he looked like he barely cared. There were bodies in the dirt. One with bulging eyes, drowning in the mud, shiny piercings covered in filth. They all looked the same age as him and his friends.
…He knew better than to mess it up.
It was in the middle of that thought that the Whumps finally showed up.
"What the hell took you so-" Deckard stopped, eyes widening.
There were only two of them, no product in sight, and they were carrying a third Whump.
A dead one.
Fuck.
Blood stained its brown coat. It was easy to tell the cause, there was a bullet in its neck. They must've carried the corpse all the way back to him.
The two put the corpse down, beginning to point to it and screech with wild eyes. It was diffent than usual. They were afraid. They kept gesturing and squeaking.
I don't know what you little fuckers are saying!
"What the hell happened!" he hissed, palming a knife in his pocket. "Are the rest of you alive?"
They looked at each other and shook their heads quickly.
Goddammit.
Deckard was looking after a lot more than just three Whumps.
The two mimed a gun firing with their paws, pointing back the way they came. "Yeah, no shit. I got that much," he grumbled.
He had to see for himself.
"Take me back the way you came, quietly."
The two hesitated, looking to the corpse before glancing back to him.
I guess these guys got friends too, huh?
"Alright," Deckard sighed. "We'll come back for it-them. But after, got it?"
They gave a salute and ran off on all fours.
Deckard followed behind, pulling up his hood and staying to the shadows. It took some time before he crept up on the scene. He leaned out of an alley, barely peaking his head out. It was dark, so he couldn't see much, but he could make out the group ahead.
These aren't some two-bit thugs.
The thing about this city, people liked to wear their loyalty openly. They dressed up. Made a show of it. Jumping someone in casual clothes was one thing, doing it in an outfit said something.
There were a few dead Whumps around, all shot up.
But more importantly, the group was stealing the fucking product.
The bastards were dressed in fatigues. Bandoliers and berets, the whole works. They were saying something, but he was too far away to hear.
It'd be different if some thugs caught wind of their Whump running. But dressed like this? These were a Baron's people. Or at least some gang big enough to pretend at being one. These routes were secret, handlers only knew the route they were responsible for. And that could switch daily. These fools were ready. You couldn't get so many Whumps from a spur of the moment job, they were too fast to shoot.
How'd they know we'd be here?
Deckard ducked his back before he could get spotted, rushing off as quietly as he could.
He couldn't help that his hands started to get clammy. That he was swallowing his saliva more than usual.
Man…Vivek is gonna be pissed.

Chapter 11: Time For Action

I have a lot of details I want to write about, but the chapter was already getting big. And I didn't what it to feel like it was forced. So some questions about what happened in-between the timeskip will probably be answered in the next few chapters.
Jinx PoV next chapter.
Thank you for reading!

Light Of Truth

Chapter Notes

Things may look a bit wonky if you're in light mode, but it's not that big of a deal if you don't want to switch.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

I'll admit I've been busy, so I didn't have the chance to edit this as much as I would like. Let me know if you catch anything.

I HIGHLY RECOMMEND reading this in dark mode. The standard dark mode that is. That's what I used when formatting this, so some things may look weird if you don't.

Jinx tilted her head at the mechanical arm.

She was in a side room at The Last Drop. The cybernetic lay on a workbench, tools and spare parts strewn out alongside it. The arm was partially opened up, revealing wires and tubes of green chem-fluid, like an overstuffed piñata.

"So much for Silco sticking around…" she grumbled, grabbing a screwdriver. Just as she was going through the final checks, he was called out for some emergency or another.

Jinx kept the door to the room cracked open, letting the noise in. It was always easier for her to work with music, something to drown out everything else. The bass was ratting through her tools, jingling them slightly.

She popped open an outer plate, exposing more internals. The screwdriver was placed inside the arm just so, pinching the tool between bits of metal. "So, just give a good ole twist, and…"

As Jinx twisted, the wrist split open, sending out an empty syringe.

"Boring."

It retracted. Her tool was moved slightly to the side before giving another twist.

Small, spiked studs popped from the implant's knuckles.

"Better."

She checked the last mechanism.

"Oooh is that a flashlight? Nifty."

Twist—light erupted from the palm. Because the arm was half open, the light shined unevenly, covering her face. The chem-fluid powered the little bulbs inside.

Twist. The light turned orange.

"So different heat levels give a different color…"

A turn in the opposite direction. Bright red.

Back to the right. Purple.

Another twist.

Blue filled her vision.

"Psst…over here."

"So much for top-of-line, not on market yet cybernetics," Jinx sighed, removing her tool and cutting off the light. "Oh, we can put multiple insertions in now, even a flashlight!"

She tossed the screwdriver to the workbench. "As if Silico really needed me to look at this."

"He thinks you'll mess things up if he doesn't keep an eye on you."

"No, he just wanted to spend some time with me," Jinx shook her head. "Man…I bet Vi's having more fun than I am. All those fluffy tummies around…"

She wanted to pet them, toss them up and spin 'em around until they got swirly eyes. It didn't matter that it had only been a day. Jinx wanted to see them. They would always screech in excitement when they saw her bombs explode. She was even teaching them how to throw properly. Sometimes they'd all go to the cliffs and take turns throwing some grenades off.

"Boom."

Jinx began the process of closing up the arm. It was simple enough to just stuff in the internals and put the plates back on. Finished with her task, Jinx started to slowly spin her chair. "Well, what am I supposed to do now?"

Silco was busy, so she couldn't bother him. And Vi wasn't around…

"Yeah, she left. Couldn't stand the sight of you anymore."

No, not Violet. Jinx was talking about Vi.

Not Vi.

"So not Vi, but Vi? Sure, that makes sense."

Jinx slapped her hands together, an idea coming to her head. "Time to people watch!"

She quickly secured the arm in a nearby lockbox, placing it next to the other implants. She left the room, shutting the door behind her. Tweedledum was outside standing guard. She made sure to give him a pat on the shoulder as she went by. "All done in there, buddy. You can clean up the rest."

Ignoring his side glance, Jinx hopped over to the rails overlooking the ground floor. She rested her head on her arms, watching the people dance. They moved every which way, like little ants being burned alive with a magnifying glass.

I miss Vi…

"Hey…look over here."

There was a new smoke machine installed. They were giving it a try tonight. It made the bar seem all foggy. It was in thick clumps close to the ground, growing thinner as it rose. The neon highlights throughout the bar gave the smoke a blue tint.

Jinx frowned.

Her brother told her to treat it like an annoyance. Like ignoring the urge to scratch an itch. That whenever it got too scary, to focus on something she knew was real. The music was real. These people wouldn't be dancing on beat otherwise.

She thought she caught a glimpse of pink hair between the mess of bodies.

"What, too much stimulation for you? Why you always gotta drag the party down…"

Jinx took a slow breath in-and-out of her nose. Her eyes half-lidded as she stared down. A pink haired girl peaked out on occasion. An easy smile on her face as she ran her hands through her short hair.

It would be easier if Jinx could just lob a grenade at something. That would relieve all this stress. Those were the two things she could always rely on. Her weapons, and her brother.

"Until he leaves too."

"Don't talk about him like that!" Jinx snapped, ignoring the uneasy look from Tweedledum who was still standing by the door a bit away. "He wouldn't do that to me."

Her fingers rubbed against her thumb.

I'm stronger than I was before. I'm not a child.

She wouldn't allow anyone to bad talk him, not even herself. Silco guided her, gave her a home. But it was Vi who held her, shared his sweets and helped brush her hair. Jinx wasn't the person who she used to be.

"You sure about that? Cause when he's not around…you're just a scared little girl."

Her nostrils flared.

"Then I'll prove it."

Jinx pushed off the rail, stomping down the stairs. She pushed through the bodies and made her way to the basement. The guard, sipping from his flask, didn't stop her as she passed him. They knew better than to stop her from going where she wanted.

Jinx walked down the stairs. Some of the steps creaked under her foot, the wood bending under the weight.

"Guess there was never a reason for Silco to fix that…"

Her pace slowed as she went down. It felt like the noise heightened with each careful step. The smoke followed alongside her, growing thicker and covering the narrow passageway. It crawled up the walls, colored a bright blue, like she was walking through blueberry skin. She wasn't close to any lights; it couldn't be real.

So she ignored it.

Jinx opened the door, not bothering to close it as she walked down the last few steps. The blue clouds filled the room. It was so thick she could barely make out a lamp to the side.

"Boo," he whispered in her ear, warm breath tickling her.

The smoke, and she knew it was smoke due to its burning smell, licked at her heels.

"Not like I haven't been down here a thousand times already," Jinx poked a finger to her head. "See? All good upstairs."

"Then why won't you look at me?"

The door closed behind her, cutting off the music. The only sound was the dull thumps from the bar.

But her heartbeat was still loud enough to drown it out.

Jinx turned to where she saw the lamp. The room was now cloaked in darkness, but she knew the smoke was still here due to its warm breath caressing her.

She took a step forward, before hesitating at what was in front of her.

There was figure behind the lamp, Jinx could just make out its hunched posture, arms hanging to the floor. It was barely visible in the darkness. It ever so slightly peaked into visibility.

"Look at me…" It pleaded to her.

Jinx did her best to keep a scowl on her face, her nose twitching.

A slow step forward. The only sound was from her breath.

The figure didn't move.

Another step.

And another.

"I'm not…afraid anymore…" Jinx said, her hand cautiously rising to the knob. Her fingers brushed it slightly—

There was a pounding at the door.

Jinx spun around, ripping out the pistol Silco gave her and aiming it.

Her heart pounded in her chest.

I won't freeze anymore.

The knocking stopped.

Jinx kept her aim for a moment, before sighing when it didn't come back. "Jeez, you trying to kill me or something?"

With ease, she reached for the lamp's knob and turned it.

Yellow light poured from the lamp. When the glow hit the smoke the room erupted in flames. The smoke was transformed into fire, reaching the celling and wrapping around the room in a fiery cocoon. It was like someone threw a lit match onto gasoline. The flames struck at her like whips, but it left no burn.

That means it's not real.

Jinx took a breath, starting to sweat.

But I can still feel the heat…

It raised itself with twitchy motions. Jinx could make out its brown hair, but that was all. It was rail-thin, but she didn't couldn't bring herself to look away from its face.

She couldn't see it.

White chalk marks flashed around it, shifting so fast she could barely make it out. They looked as if they were scratched into existence with a hasty hand. She couldn't comprehend what she was seeing. They were 2-d shapes forced into the third dimension.

It took a step forward.

Jinx fired her gun on instinct.

There was no visible damage.

"You're nothing but a jinx!" Violet screamed in her ear.

"Stop. I'm—I'm not a—" Powder stopped herself from finishing that, her throat clenching. She fired another shot.

"I told you this would happen, Vi," Mylo shook his head at her.

It took another step forward.

Powder took a step backward, her breath starting to come out harshly. She felt woozy.

As she took another step her foot caught under a chair leg, tripping her as she tried to regain her balance. The fire grew as she fell. Black smoke started to billow. It stole at her breath as she landed, gasping as her throat kept closing involuntarily.

Powder dropped her gun, her hands coming to her neck. She felt like she was suffocating.

She felt like she was going to die.

"Please," she croaked out, "it's not my fault."

Powder turned her body, trying to crawl away, but the flames blocked her view. There was a pain in the back of her throat.

"Vi…please."

The figure took another step forward. She grew nauseous, the room starting to spin.

"Come back…I need you," Powder whimpered, curling her body close, trying for any relief that she could get.

Vi please

VI please

A hand touched her cheek, and instantly she could breathe. The fire was gone, the heat alongside it. The room was cold. There was no reason for a heater to be on when the room wasn't in use. The cold soothed her burning body. It was dim, but the room was brightened by an open door. Powder looked up to see the light peak around his crouched form, silhouetting him.

Vivek.

Jinx sighed, nuzzling into his cool hand. She closed her eyes, taking a moment to catch her breath.

When she opened them, her heart was starting to calm. Wordlessly, she extended her thumb.

Vi smiled at her and extended his own, pressing their fingers together.

Jinx kept the contact for a few long seconds before she pulled back. She shifted forward so she could lay her head against his chest.

"You're back pretty early," Jinx said with a causal tone, not mentioning her recent episode.

"Something's come up," Her big brother replied with a smile. "Jinx…I need you."

And just like that, the world made sense again.

Vi was angry. Jinx could tell.

It wasn't just that he dropped his smile when they entered Silco's office. It was in his movements. Even as he gave her a piggyback ride, he stomped with just a bit too much force on the stairs. He was stiff, glancing around on occasion.

She soon learned why after they met Silco.

"There's only been one incident?" Silco asked his son, somehow looking grumpier than usual.

Who's monstrous enough to snuff a bunch of racoons!? Jinx thought, something vile bubbling inside her.

Those were her bomb buddies. They weren't like Vi, like family. But they played together, helped each other out. They were pretty much her…friends.

She wouldn't let anyone off easy for hurting her friends.

Vi nodded, standing before the desk. "Yes. I've got the rest of the rings to hang back, but I can't do much about the Whumps in the middle of delivery. I've told them to spread the word where they can."

"This will slow our production," Silco pointed out, though not unkindly.

"We can take a single day's hit," Vi said with a scowl. "We can make more product over time, but the Whumps are invaluable. There's a limited number of them, and the projections have been up because of them. They need to be protected."

"You should be more honest with yourself," Jinx mumbled behind a hand, kicking her feet from the top of Silco's desk.

She would've poked at him more about it, but he was already pretty annoyed.

Silco steepled his fingers together. "They do, but we can't hold them back for long. They've become too vital for our industry. That is why this needs to be dealt with immediately." His eye narrowed. "Berets and bandoliers, you say? Those are Wencher's men."

"That doesn't mean it's him. It could be a false flag, or a group acting without his orders, or anything!"

Vi's fingers drummed a beat along his leg.

If he stays stressed like this he'll get even more white hair, Jinx thought with sharp eyes. When she saw him angry, it gave her a strange twisting feeling in her stomach.

I don't like seeing him like that.

"The why doesn't matter right now. The fact of our situation is that we were attacked, we need to respond to it. I will deal with Wencher," Silco declared. "I'm trusting you and Jinx to sniff out the rat. This is your project, after all. You have a responsibility to see this through. Consider why the Whumps give you their loyalty, and how this affects it."

Jinx perked up, jumping off the desk and coming to stand beside Vi. "Yeah! Leave it to us. That rat'll be drowned before you know it!"

Silco glanced at her and huffed. "I am relying on the two of you. I wouldn't trust anyone else at your age with this. But understand that this needs to be dealt with quickly. We can't tolerate a leak. If you take too long, then Sevika will be taking over."

Jinx deflated.

Ugh.

Vi elbowed her side. "We've got this under control. We'll come to you if we need any help."

Rebel more, Vi! We don't need any help!

Silco nodded. "Good. Report to me once you find them." He turned his full focus to his son. "And Vivek…take this as a learning opportunity. Some actions are out of our control. What's important is that we learn how to react to them. Understand?"

"…completely."

"Then get to work."

It was going to happen eventually.

Statistically, we had enough Whumps that some of them would be attacked at some point. But this was different than just random thugs coming across them., or the drunkards throwing beer bottles at racoons. No, this was premeditated. By a Baron, or someone trying to get us to go to war with one.

That more than anything is what made me angry.

It was inevitable, tying them as close to us as I did. Silco wasn't wrong either, I couldn't just keep them from making deliveries for too long. They were workers, not children to be coddled.

But just because I understood it didn't mean I liked it.

I was the one who brought them in. It was my people that were killed, and I had every intention of finding out why. I hated the idea of their deaths meaning nothing.

But I had to be careful, someone was feeding information to the enemy. There could be several for all I knew. I could only trust so many people. Even Deckard—despite him being the one to report the attack—was someone I had to be cautions with.

The only ones I would trust fully were Jinx and the Whumps.

Which was why I had to see the scene for myself.

I took a bite of my chocolate bar as I walked. It was made from a type of chocolate syrup with almonds in it. The chocolate was heated and chem-pressed to give it its distinctive rectangular shape. It didn't taste like the overly sugary milk chocolate I was used to in my first life. It was closer to dark chocolate, with the chem-staining giving it a particular tang.

I reached the candy bar over to Jinx, letting her take a chomp.

We were being led by one of the two who survived the attack. Besides him, it was just Jinx and me. But I made sure to keep a wide net of Whumps hidden in the shadows. If they weren't making deliveries, then they could be used for other things.

Not that they were bothered by the overtime. They were more than willing to help me with this.

They were like 'normal' racoons by nature. They preferred to avoid conflict. That's why they were so skittish when I found them; why the nests were so well hidden. They only fought when they needed to or when victory was certain.

And until now, that was how I used them. Secrecy was important for us to keep our edge, but that secret would probably be out soon. Others would try to take advantage of them or otherwise deliberately target them. They would be at risk.

But there were a lot more Whumps working together than there used to be.

I united most of the nests. Brought so many furry bodies together that I could barely keep count. For maybe the first time they had the numbers that they didn't have to flee, fighting was an option.

Silco asked me to think why they gave me their loyalty?

It was more than just the food and fun, the guaranteed safety and support.

It was because I freed them from their fear.

For once, they could fight back against a predator, and they were eager to do so.

If I wasn't so familiar with them at this point, I think I would've missed it. The signs of the Whumps' presence. A rustling that could be mistaken for the wind. A wide eye peaking at me from the corner. The hiss of their growl and the faint clicking of their claws.

They would let me know as soon as a threat came our way.

Under the guidance of one of the survivors, we arrived at our destination.

I could smell the blood in the air, the bodies not having been removed yet. There was no power going to the surrounding buildings, leaving the area to be dim. The only light came from the far-off shops and the small lantern at my hip. The Whumps had night-vision, making places like these a natural route to stick to.

Jinx shuffled to my side, rubbing at her arms. "This place is cold. We won't stay long?"

"Just long enough to verify everything."

I came to a stop over the bodies, my eyes roaming over them. The corpses were littered with holes. Blood seeped out of the wounds; the humidity kept it from drying too much. There was a loose pile of them. It was strange, seeing their huge eyes so normally full of life, missing that spark.

I thought I was playing it safe, having them stick together where they could afford to. Was this my fault? A consequence of being too careful?

The Whump that led us growled at our side. He had the typical brown coat of fur that most Whumps had.

"It's dark. Even if they knew they were coming, they're still a small target…" I said under my breath, glancing around.

The concrete is chipped.

There're small holes in some of the buildings.

"These guys weren't trained assassins," I spoke my thoughts aloud. I looked between the bodies, crouching down to move one of them slightly. Blood stained my hand as I rolled one over. "Did you see where they were shooting from?" I asked the survivor.

He nodded, pointing behind me.

I took a few steps back, miming a gun in my hand.

So, they didn't surround them?

The bullets came from one direction?

Fast as they are, that's probably why some Whumps got away. Does that imply anything else or am I thinking too much about it?

I walked over to a building. Right in its foundation, there was a lodged bullet. Ever so carefully, I wiggled it from the concrete. "Jinx, can you look at this for me? I don't know much about guns." I rolled it in my palm, feeling its cold metal. I couldn't make out anything from it.

I need to look at the casings too.

"Jinx?" I glanced over at her. She was standing over one of the bodies with a tilted head, just staring with those big eyes of hers. "You okay?"

She blinked, eyes coming back into focus. "…Yeah, let me take a look at that."

I handed the bullet to her. Jinx held it up, rolling it between her fingers. "Hmmm," she narrowed her eyes. "HMMM…I've got it!"

"What is it?"

"No idea!"

It felt like getting slapped with a fish. A half-cooked one at that.

She shrugged her shoulders at me. "So…this is just a run-of-the-mill bullet you'd find from any pistol. People customize their weapons all the time, but there's nothing special about this bullet." Jinx kicked at a nearby casing. "Nothing from these either."

Damn.

"Well, It's alright. Not like we're looking for anything in particular here. I just feel better, us seeing it for ourselves," I said, crossing my arms.

I turned to our Whump guide, who was glaring down at the corpses of his friends. They were sapient, had a makeshift society. I wondered how they would treat their dead…

"Again, how many attackers were there?"

He held up a full paw, showing off his long black nails.

Five.

"And they were all dressed up?"

A nod.

"If that's how Wencher's men dress, what does that say about him?"

How a gang dressed often reflected their leader. Not everyone did it, but there was a trend of gangs wearing a kind of themed uniform. Margot was an obvious example. Her business was built off of pleasure centers, so her followers wore a bunch of tight leather bondage. It seemed strange to me to dress according to what industry you worked in.

I couldn't see myself doing something like that.

Silco disliked the whole thing, but it made it easy to know who worked for a Baron. It also became an issue if anyone tried to impersonate a Baron's people.

"Was there anything else of note?"

He paused for a moment. A paw went to his chin as he moved his head back and forth, as if he was physically willing himself to remember. He jerked up before nodding rapidly. He made a chopping motion to his arm, then pointed to my hip lantern.

Arm—Light?

"A flashlight?"

He shook his head and chopped his arm again.

I frowned in confusion. "There was light coming from his arm?"

A thumbs up.

A Zaunite with light coming from his arm. The most plausible explanation…

"A cybernetic implant?"

He gave an enthusiastic nod, before turning his gaze back to the bodies.

That didn't exactly give us a lot to work off of considering—

"That's it!" Jinx suddenly exclaimed. She came up to me, excitement radiating from her pores. "Silco had me looking at new implants, remember? One of the arms had a flashlight stuck right in it!"

"But isn't that par the course for mechanical arms?" I asked in confusion. Didn't Urgot have literal shotgun-spider knees?

Admittingly, I didn't know about all the technology in the city. I had no reason to turn too much attention towards cybernetics yet. And I was still busy from putting the Whump rings together.

Jinx shook her head, her braid slapping her in the face. "Arms with insertions in them are new. Before Shimmer, there was barely enough juice to fuel even one replaced limb. Why waste energy putting a flashlight in there when you can just hold one. But that's changing! That's what I was lookin' at earlier. Top grade prototype implants."

I blinked. Really?

I may have overestimated our replacement limbs. If nothing else, at least Shimmer would get us there eventually. Probably around when Jinx reaches adulthood, if my timeline was right and Urgot was around by then.

That seems like an investment opportunity.

But I could see where she was going with this. "Prototype, as in, no one else should have them?"

"Exactly," she confirmed with a snap of her fingers, "which is why Smeech was involved"

"Well, it doesn't have to mean that. It could just be that it was stolen," I shook my head. "Regardless, I'll at least bring it up to Dad, he'll look into it."

A smile started to grow across her face. "Or…we could investigate it? Just the two of us?"

Okay, hold on a second there.

"Jinx, we can't just confront Smeech on our own," I sighed, smoothing out my hair.

"Can't we?"

"If he's an enemy then he'll kill us if we go to him."

"Then we don't let him kill us?"

"We have our own problem to deal with, Dad said he'd deal with everything else."

"No, Silco said he'd deal with Wencher, not everything else. And we're still looking for the rat. But they were working with that group right?" She thumbed over to the surviving Whump. "This is our responsibility, right?"

I watched him, as he stared down mournfully. He raised his wide eyes to meet my own. They were incredibly expressive, Eyes like that should never show fear.

A few of the Whumps left the shadows, having heard our conversation. They stayed low to the ground, looking to me with expectation. They yipped and growled around the pile of corpses. Their fur was stood up as they stalked the area.

Why do they give me their loyalty?

Because I answer that loyalty.

I gave them what I promised, and in return they offered me their service.

What did they want right now? What was it that they were hungrily demanding of me?

"C'mon, Vi. Don't you want to meet a Yordle?"

Fuck, she's got me.

I groaned, looking up at the dark stone sky. "Okay, fine. We'll do this too."

"Yes!"

"But!" I quickly cut in before she could get too excited. "We are telling Dad. There's no reason to do anything behind his back. He'll understand if we explain it to him, and it's better he knows where we are anyways."

"Aww, but I wanted a rebellious misadventure…" Jinx whined with her sad puppy dog eyes.

I couldn't help it. I had to pat her head. I ran my hand through her hair, fluffing it up. It was getting coarse again close to her braid.

Unlike most little sisters, she didn't resist.

I turned towards the Whumps. It wasn't like me and her were doing this alone after all. Maybe I was being too cautious.

I couldn't let the 'what if' paralyze me. I had to trust my instincts and react.

"Hey guys…" I started to ask them.

As their leader, I had a responsibility to answer their demands.

"…are you still hungry?"

Stick with me and you'll never go hungry again.

Chapter 12: Light of Truth

I have a lot of ideas for what I can do for formatting tricks. But obviously, I don't want to overdo anything and have this be unreadable. Just here and there if I think it works. I want to try to use the medium to my advantage. I thought about putting a hex crystal in the middle of that spiral, but I spent enough time just figuring out this stuff. So I'll take one at a time.

About that last conversation, that was mainly about Vivek learning to not just stick to the role Silco gives him. I always feel like I can add more detail to these chapters, but I wanted to actually get this out this week, so I'll make do.

I wanted to try and show how something small could set off Jinx and it could spiral from there. I have an arc in mind for her. But keep in mind that since she's only 13, this is like the "base" version of her.

Happy Thanksgiving to those in the States.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter End Notes

So, I made that picture while knowing QQ's exact shade for it's dark mode. I wanted to try to have it blend in as much as possible. Little things like that I want to start doing later on, like using pictures for when I can't do stuff with normal formatting (on QQ at least). I've been trying to learn to edit some images here and there, but I still need time to work on it. It might not blend in as well over here given the color differences, but I'll see what I can do.

Burn My Flesh Away

"What are we, some kind of...league of legends?"—Vivek, in the future, probably.

Marvel Rivals is really good. Oh no!

Should be back to a regular schedule now. I'm finding so many interesting new songs by following my title rule.

Surprisingly, Silco gave the okay for us meeting Smeech.

It was long conversation, but I made sure I had a plan before I came to him. He was understandably reluctant to let us go, but he ultimately relented before the combined might of me and Jinx's pleading.

"I can't believe Silco's letting you get away with this," Sevika grunted, a frown covering her face. She was tugging a large case in her left hand, inside of which was an implant.

Unsurprisingly, he didn't let us go without some backup.

It was the condition for his approval. Sevika would come with as a pretense for the meeting. She would discuss with Smeech the prototypes he sent us. We would be brought along to 'learn the ropes' and see how business was done.

Of course, once we were in the office we could question him about whatever.

"Vi, we should ditch her at the next turn," Jinx mocked with a faux whisper.

"Don't you little bastards even dare." Sevika pinched her nose. "Honestly…Silco's giving you so much rope, if you're not careful with it, you'll hang yourselves."

"Well apparently not enough if we still have to be babysat."

I couldn't deny, I was also a bit annoyed. Here we were, a wide net of Whump surveillance, with plans in place in case something went wrong, and we still had someone watching over us. Although…I did understand where he was coming from. We were still young, only just turning into teenagers. He was worried about what might happen to us.

Oh well, we just needed to prove that we could be trusted with our own lives.

Sevika stopped her march, bringing us to a halt in the alley. "You two don't understand how irregular this is. There's a difference between finding a traitor in your own organization and walking up to a Chem-Baron for a meeting." Her eyes narrowed at us. "A Baron's name is to be feared, even a fool like Smeech's. We've got no idea how this meeting's going to turn out. If he's behind the attack then he could use this as an opportunity to get one over Silco. You're not ready for something like this."

I chewed at my cheek a bit.

It was sobering to hear, but I still felt like I was right. That we could do this. I just needed the chance to show it to her.

"Then how about we prove it to you?" I said. "I get it, I really do, but Dad earned his position for a reason, right? Maybe there's also a reason why he's letting us do this?"

Sevika didn't look too amused at my questioning.

I sighed, smoothing down the white side of my hair in preparation for the meeting. "What about this…you let us take the lead in the meeting. You do the introductions and then we do the rest. We'll do the questioning, the Whump's will be in position, and you can smack us if we fumble. Anything goes wrong, you call the shots."

Jinx came to my side in a show of support, wrapping an arm around my own.

I gave Sevika my best smile, trying to convey my sincerity. "Think about how much the Whumps have helped us so far. Have a little faith in the next generation…give us a chance."

She stared at us for a moment before scoffing. "You sure you're racoons ready for something like this?"

"They've never been more ready than now."

Once I learned where we would be meeting Smeech, I pulled out all the stops.

Sevika began to walk away, but I could still hear her muttering. "I've got more faith in you than I do in the other Sumpsnipes."

Taking that as a yes, I turned to Jinx in excitement. "Okay, remember the plan?"

She shifted. "Yeah, but…I don't know, Vi. What if it doesn't work? I don't want you to get hurt." Jinx frowned up at me with her puffy cheeks.

How do I word this…

"I don't want you getting hurt either," I began. "But there's no such thing as zero risk. Just by living in the Undercity our lives are at stake. As cruel as it sounds, we'll always have enemies, no matter what. But that's why we stack the deck in our favor. Show our enemies that even thinking of messing with us is a bad idea. That's why, we have to trust the Whumps. They're in danger just like we are. But if we pull this off? We'll all be safer than we were before."

I gave her a wink. "Besides, you know what to do if things go wrong, right?"

"You bet I do!" She saluted at me, her eagerness returning.

We walked as I went over the plan. I whistled, signaling for a Whump to appear so I could convey my orders to the horde.

This evening, we found ourselves on the Entresol layer. The cold of winter was a little less noticeable here. The moving bodies, the shining lights, they all kept the layer at a slight chill. This was in opposition of the freezing conditions of the other layers.

Sevika stayed at the head of our group, marching with her eyes set straight as we left the alleys. Jinx was more causal, swinging her arms openly by my side. It was harder to be inconspicuous with my hair, so I didn't try to hide. I made sure to walk with my back straight and my head up, only occasionally glancing around.

The heart of the Undercity was always a sight to see. It was almost too much at times. Even at this hour—no because of the hour—the streets were packed. People rushed over cracked concrete. There were shops and entrances all around. Some were lined with neon lights. Others, with strung up crystals that jingled. Traders and opportunists stood at the corners hawking their wares. And of course, there were always the thugs glaring from the alleys.

It was obvious who in the crowd were Topsiders. They either gaped like tourists, glanced in fear, or held their heads so high they were liable to hit the stone celling.

The sound of construction was also a new instrument added to the symphony. Workers with stained clothed toiled away at new buildings. Steel rods were hammered into stone in an open courtyard, preparation to continue building up.

"You don't even need gasmasks here if you're careful," I murmured, taking notice of one particular group of people.

A loose circle of Zaunites with golden gasmasks. The respirators that they breathed from shined just like the rings on their fingers.

Air in a can.

I understood Silco's distaste much more nowadays. There were so many still suffering from the fumes, and these people flaunted their use of oxygen.

Some places were so bad, there were breathing stations set up just so people could function. Small buildings filled with recycled air. They were prevalent deeper in the Sump, but there was never enough as there needed to be.

Everyone deserves to breathe.

I pulled out my new yo-yo, letting it hang low and roll alongside us before yanking it back up. The string pulled tight against my finger. I used to love practicing tricks in my first life. I would watch videos over and over, enamored with the idea of doing it myself.

"Hey, Jinx. Wanna see something cool?" I asked.

I waited until she turned to me to execute my trick. With ease, I sent the yo-yo down and wrapped it around my opposite hand. I pinched it with the hand holding the yo-yo before spreading my fingers in the other, making a triangle shape. I sent the yo-yo spinning through it, like something you might see at a roller coaster.

"Woah! You did that fast!" Jinx said, hopping over a stray beer bottle.

It was a simple trick to do, but it felt good to show off a bit.

"Wanna see some more?" I grinned at her.

I ran through some of what I could remember, stretching the string against my fingers to create different shapes. I would roll the yo-yo along the shapes, trying to balance it with the additional weight. It left my fingers sore, but it was worth it to be the one to impress her for once.

It was a bit later that Sevika spoke back up, "Toys away, we're here."

We were higher up in the city. Closer to the walkways that connected the upper levels. They were like metal spiderwebs that split the sky. One man drank from a bottle while he sat on the guardrail, overlooking the city.

I could tell this was Smeech's territory given the increased use of cyberware. The air was a different kind of industrial as well. The black smoke wafted from the buildings, mixing with the general smog as people with metal limbs walked by.

We walked up a steep series of stairs as I put my tool away. The stairs led to cobblestone and an open courtyard. Several buildings were smooshed around the open space. Straight ahead was our destination, a factory with high towers. Two men were crouched on the steps to its door. They had implants, one with an arm, another with an iron mask.

I risked a glance to the side, eyeing the vents that crawled up the factory.

Sevika turned to me. "I'm trusting you, Vivek. Don't get us killed." She made sure to glare into my eyes. She didn't give me time to respond before she made her way to the door. Sevika nodded at one of the men, holding up the case. "We've sent a tube ahead. Smeech is expecting us."

Much like the sewers, there was a robust system of Pneumatic tubes that connected the city. It was the mailing system for the expansive Undercity. I was familiar with the technology, seen it used in banks in my past life. Although it never took off as much as it did here. The tubes used compressed air to send messages, protecting the mail from the toxic fumes. Not every tube went directly to a person's home. The majority were directed to a district office.

"Open the case," the man said, his mask warping his voice to a deep tone.

Carefully, Sevika placed it on the ground, not taking her eyes off the guard as she undid the clasps. Inside was a boxy metallic arm, lines of hastily scribbled blue and pink going down it.

He eyed it before scoffing. "Keep it shut until you meet with the boss."

The mook looked at us with a strange gleam before he opened the door, leading us to rusted metal floors. The guards didn't even bother to check if we had weapons, it was kind of a given for most people.

Not that I had my gun on me right now anyways.

It was chilly inside. Not enough to freeze, but it was still uncomfortable. A slight prick that made your hair stand on end.

"There's a Pneuma tube office around here, then?" I asked quietly to Sevika as we walked through the factory.

"No," Sevika said, "this used to be an important factory, so Smeech's got a tube straight to the building. No need for a runner, which is why we're meeting with him so fast."

Drug running wasn't the only reason for our parkour culture. Tube runners were used to ferry messages from an office to its designated recipient. It was hard and dangerous work. There had to be a level of responsibility when it came to people's mail.

I was making a mental map of what tube routes led to where, but it was slow going, given how many there were.

After all, I knew for a fact some of those routes led directly to Piltover.

It was one of the ways Enforcers remained in the back of our heads. All it would take was one message. It would take time for them to get here, of course. But thankfully, Enforcer activity quieted a bit after the new sheriff took over.

I planned for the Whumps to take over Pneuma tube running. They would be faster and more reliable than the current runners. It was still only an idea, since the Whumps would have to act more openly for it to work.

But now…

Smeech's mook led us on the far-side of the factory, far from the work area. That area was packed. Men and women moved metal parts or recorded notes on paper. They boxed full prosthetics and sent them on their way, a constant mismatch of people running every which way. The occasional guard watched the whole process.

This obviously wasn't his main factory. It was too small for that.

I noticed the tried eyes and the spare yawns. Most likely, these people here were working long hours. Not everyone who worked for a Chem-Baron was a hired goon. Down here, business was crime. With the Baron's gobbling up so much industry, it was natural that regular people would fall under their influence.

Those people shouldn't suffer unduly.

They were just trying to survive, doing whatever they could to make it happen. And if this was their livelihood, then an attack on Smeech would be an attack on them. If it came down to that, then I would hurt these people.

I didn't want that.

But at the same time…what would be better in the long run?

A small amount of suffering forever, leading to a life that was comfortable, but spent in chains.

Or a large amount of suffering temporarily, leading to a life of freedom, where the possibilities were endless.

I clenched my teeth together.

As if these people were comfortable.

I gazed at the boxes that moved from hand to hand.

"Hey, Jinx. What do you think of theses implants…impressive?" I questioned.

She scoffed. "No way. They've got a couple of shiny new toys, but they're still inefficient when it comes to energy loss."

"But like you said before….they're better than they used to be?"

Jinx turned backwards to face me, not caring for the workers that rushed around her. Jinx waved her hand in a so-so motion. "Well, the insertions are new. They're getting there at least."

There was no reason to ask if she could make a better model. That was like asking if there were chemicals in the air.

It was also already proven, given the implant that Sevika was carrying in that case.

It didn't take long for Jinx to modify it to her liking. Unexpectedly, she was going to be the carrot to my stick.

I've had tunnel vision, I noted to myself. I have to remember just how new Chem-tech is.

It was a bad habit of mine. I fell into the trap that I didn't want to spring. I was completely unaware of the current limits of cyberware, and of how it was growing. I saw some people with implants and just assumed everything was as I expected it to be.

I needed to be less rigid in my thinking. Focus on more than just what was in front of me.

Just because Zaun was inevitable didn't mean it was immutable.

It was a mistake, but to be fair to myself, it wasn't like putting together the Whump rings was easy. Far from it. From the bottom-up I had to structure the rings. Assign non-Whump employees. Design the schedule and drop off system. Plot out the routes. Keep track of the Puffcap and Shimmer flower deposits, and search for more, and make sure they didn't overharvest it. All while dealing with a workforce that could understand me but couldn't respond back well.

I leaned a lot on Capo Cornelius to pass my orders down the line. There were several skippers underneath him that functioned like lieutenants. They would order around their individual clump of Whumps.

Thankfully, there was an opportunity to fix this mistake.

Silco would chide me if I didn't take advantage of whatever fell into my lap.

The mook led us up a set of stairs, the steel clanking beneath our shoes. We were taken to a hallway, at the end of which were two large wooden doors. I was already aware it contained Smeech's office. Sevika turned to Jinx and me, her eyes narrowed as she tried to pass a message to us. She probably didn't want to risk speaking up so close to one of Smeech's.

I bet it was something like, 'don't fuck this up.'

This close to the door, I couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation. But it wasn't just the fear of things going wrong, it was also the glee at fulfilling a lifelong dream.

I'm gonna see a Yordle! In the flesh!

Smeech was probably scum, given that he was a Chem-Baron. But it was a Yordle. To me, they were like the representation of everything fantastical on Runeterra. Proof of the new opportunities in my life.

We stopped at the end of the hallway, and the mook opened the doors.

A few seconds later we were in.

I'll admit, I had certain expectations of Yordles. They were furry or blue or generally adorable looking. Heimerdinger was a good example of this. What I saw of him in history books matched what I remembered of the species.

"Well, well, well. Sevika…Silco sent you?"

Seeing this Yordle in front of me, I took it as yet another sign to be more open-minded.

"And who the hell are baby blue and salt-and-pepper over here?"

Disappointing.

I knew I shouldn't have expected much… but still.

Smeech was the most goblin looking bastard I had ever seen.

Motherfucker looks like a Mogwai that ate past midnight.

Smeech was only furry around his ears, eyebrows, and chin. He had a pointed beard and a top hat that covered a terrible hair-job. Blonde swirled like a toupee. Holes were ripped into his ears, and his skin was wrinkly. Bulbous eyes with small purple irises. A single fang peaked out of his mouth. Metal hands were held together, green tubes reaching up to his mechanical shoulders.

His clothes were dark, as Zaunites were wont to do. Smeech's overcoat had stitches in it, seemingly to give the impression of constant use. But I knew enough to recognize that it was just a stylistic choice. I had that thought, given that the suit he wore under it was made of smooth thread. It was clearly designed just for him.

It was dark in his office. He sat behind his desk, the only light coming from a fireplace in the corner and the large circular window behind him. The glass was the typical stained green, perfect for reflecting the neon light. The room was large—the roof so high the darkness swallowed the ceiling. It was filled with bookshelves and a collection of framed art. There was a singular purple vial on the desk. The noise was quiet in the room. The few sources of sound came from the crackling wood, and the humming of the ventilation system.

The vents made sure the room stayed heated.

There were no seats, he made people stand while he lounged in his comfy black leather chair. I glanced over at Jinx to keep her from saying anything rude to his face, just to be safe.

Given her smirk, she clearly had a lot to say.

Sevika gestured a hand our way. "Vivek and Jinx, Silco's wards. We've got some things to talk about."

Smeech gave us a pointy grin. "So you're the Silco siblings….I heard he had a pair of tykes." He reached a metallic hand to me. "Put 'er there, pal."

Unlike other prosthetics, these weren't bulky, they spindlier and thinner.

I didn't hesitate. No matter how he looked, this man was a Baron for a reason. He had a stranglehold over his industry, his rivals dead or bought out. Sevika was right in that I couldn't underestimate him. Right now, Smeech was an obstacle.

But that didn't mean I was unprepared.

I gripped his hand, feeling its cold metal. His metallic prongs wrapped around me tight, but not enough to strain the bones. There must've been a pressure sensor of some kind in there.

"Now," he said, steepling his hands together, "what can I do you for?"

He didn't shake Jinx's hand.

That, I noticed beyond anything else. I didn't like it. Was it because I was the only full-blooded child? I suppose it wasn't impossible for rumors of Silco adopting an orphan to spread. But still…at least show a little respect. I could feel the annoyance start to burn in my chest.

I spoke up before Sevika could, she said I could take the lead after all. I would apologize later if I had to.

"We're here for a few things. First, we'd like to talk about the prototypes you sent us," I said, approaching his desk. I made sure to keep a smile. This man was a threat. Which meant whatever happened, I couldn't let him think I wasn't in control. I had to seem collected, sure of myself. Silco was never the most physically imposing in the room. But he was always the most important.

I have to fake it until I make it.

The smile reached my eyes, he would notice something as simple as that.

Smeech glanced at Sevika, so far she was letting me talk. "Oh yeah, and what about it?" He asked with a scoff.

I bet to him I looked like some stuck-up rich kid, all puffed up on daddy's drug money.

Good. If he underestimates me, it'll make the shock hit harder.

"Well, we've verified you're claims." I thumbed behind me. "Jinx here is actually the one who looked it over. Jinx, you're consensus?"

She shrugged. "Eh, okay for what they are."

Smeech's grin dropped, replaced with narrowed eyes. "Okay? Girlie, those are the best damn implants you'll find on both continents. What would you know about quality metal?"

I cut in before he could continue. "That actually brings me to my next point. Those prototypes are rare right? Would anyone else have them right now?"

He had a full scowl at this point. His head tilted, almost mechanically at me. "That's none of your business. Why the hell does Silco want to know—why did he send you to ask?"

I swirled my finger on the desk.

This was the moment of truth. This would decide which option we would take.

Is it A…or B.

"Because someone with one of your new implants attacked our operation and killed our people," I said with ease, watching him carefully.

His eyes widened, leaning back in his chair. Smeech turned his attention to Sevika. "So that's why you're here….well, I can say for sure it wasn't one of my men. And they're not dumb enough to go rogue. I know better than to shit on Silco's shoe. Bad for business, believe that if nothing else."

I didn't know him well enough to say if he was lying or not.

"So, you send prototypes to people other than my father?" I asked, losing my smile.

Smeech barked a laugh, like shoes being scuffed on rough concrete. "You think I'm gonna send those just to Silco?" A metallic finger rose to wag at me. "Let me teach you something, skunk head. Having just one consumer? Bad for business. You wanna make the coins? Diversify your profile a little." He grabbed the vial of Shimmer on his desk. Purple smoke released with a press, Smeech taking a big sniff of it.

I tapped my finger on the desk twice, making sure the motion was as exaggerated as possible.

For now, I was going with option B.

"We may not be business partners, but It's a bad look when your implants are involved in an attack on us." I narrowed my eyes at him. "We need to know who else has those prototypes."

"You wanna know so badly?" Smeech snorted, "send Silco. I'm done hearing you prattle. Find your own way out." He pointed his head to the door.

"He's busy with other dealings. He trusted me to speak to you. I think it's in your best interest to just answer the question."

Smeech started to laugh. It was like the scraping of metal. "You—do you really think you can demand something like that of me? In my house." He barked like mad dog. "That's some funny shit, kid! It's only cause you're his son that I'm not popping your head off!"

I could see Sevika frown at me from the corner of my eye, but I didn't panic.

I was still in complete control.

My lips quirked. "That is pretty funny, isn't it, Jinx?" I asked, not turning around.

Jinx started to giggle. If there was one thing she was good at, it was laughing on command.

There was a barking at my front. A giggle at my back.

And a loud hyena-like laugh to the side.

Smeech stopped at the sound. It was a cackle that spoke of knowing something that others didn't. A high-pitched noise that peaked every half second, like someone pulling a noose tight around a neck.

"You really think I'd bring my people to a potential enemy base without being prepared?" I asked him with a tilt of my head.

Smeech snatched a gun out from under his desk, leveling it at my head. The instant he reached for it, Jinx pulled her own out. She had been waiting for a reaction like that. Sevika stood with a tense posture, glancing between the three of us with clenched fists.

His grip was tight, I wouldn't be able to rip it from his hands.

"What the fuck do you got in my vents, huh?" Smeech demanded of me, his smile gone. "You think you're smart? What if I really did order that attack? Now I've got Silco's prized possessions right here in my office. How did you think that was gonna end?"

"Smeech—" Sevika tried to say before I cut her off, my smile returning.

"I'm here for two things: one, to get answers about who killed my people. And two, to offer you a deal."

I could feel my pulse quicken, the heat starting to rush through me. I ignored the anxiety I felt at being held at gun point, of being forced to escalate. My resolve wasn't so weak that I would balk at fear. I didn't think I would die, but if I wasn't even willing to bet on it, then I didn't deserve to be on this path.

Fear was natural, but I couldn't let it hold me back from doing what needed to be done.

I didn't want to hurt these workers, but I wouldn't let myself stop me from doing what needed to be done.

I had to burn my previous self, then use the ash to nourish the seed of who I would become.

"Offer me a deal?! Who do you think you are?!" Smeech said with a glare, standing up from his chair. "I should just paint your brains over my walls!"

And I wouldn't have brought Jinx here if I thought this was unwinnable.

Something dropped from the ceiling. An object bounced off of his desk with a clank before rolling to the floor. All eyes but my own were on it as it lost its momentum. Smeech's eyes bulged in recognition. It was easy to tell what it was even with the added teeth. Jinx's creative designs didn't hide the fact that it was a grenade.

A laugh resounded from above, the figure hidden by the darkness. The one in the vents started back up.

And then another laugh came from the other side of the room.

The window behind Smeech began to darken. It was only so large, after all, a bunch of furred bodies could easily block it. I leaned my weight on the desk, splaying my fingers out as I locked eyes with him. The Whumps outside couldn't hear me, but orders could be relayed down the vents, from one to another. It was the exact system I set up with Cornelius, just on a bigger scale.

Writing was slow going, but the Whumps could draw. It didn't take them too long to infiltrate and make a childish picture of what the room looked like. All of the plans we made revolved around what could happen in this room. They were all over this place. My racoons were playful by nature, this was just a more complicated game to them.

I couldn't directly order them like this, but they knew what signs to look for. They were putting so much expectation on me, the least I could do was trust them back.

Power, control, it was all in your image. It was how you walked, how you talked. The fear of what you might do. You weren't just yourself, you were how people see you. That was the lesson I learned from Silco. Why he commanded so much respect. No matter what happened, make them think you had the upper hand.

The window turned a pitch black as I began to talk, the light around us being hungrily devoured by my Whumps. "You can kill me, and everyone in this room. Chop us up and send us back to my father in body bags, even hold us here if you wanted."

I could hear Jinx's breathing picking up from behind me.

I leaned down slowly, drawing myself closer to his face.

"But if you do, my friends here will blow up every single factory you have, starting with this one. You'll never find them, you'll never catch them. And for every one you manage to kill, more will take their place. They're very territorial, you see. And they're eager to find out who attacked them while they were on the job."

I didn't know where all his factories were, but I'm sure we could find them eventually.

"You'd throw away all that industry? The cyber market would go under without me," Smeech said, his scowl making him look like an angry shaved chihuahua.

"I'll be dead, why should I care?" I said with a shrug. "And that's not even getting started on what Dad will do to you."

"…Who do you think I am? You kill me and I just come back from Bandle City, maybe start again someplace else."

"But how long will that take? By the time you get back, there would be nothing left for you. Your industry wouldn't be yours anymore." I gave him a grin with half-lidded eyes, showing off my pearly incisors. "And start again? Please, you're still in this city for the same reason I am, you know it can be done. Noxus won't give you the freedom to build an empire like this city will. And you know they're harder to hide from then Piltover. Bligewater, Ionia, Demacia? There's nowhere else in the world where you can do what you're doing now. You know it as well as I. There's a reason you're a Chem-Baron."

To reach this level and stay on it, you had to want it badly enough.

I drew my head down closer, until I was pressed against the gun, my voice softening. "But that's why I'm offering you a deal. Why be enemies, when we can be business partners. Take a look at that case behind me, see what we can do together. You've heard the construction outside. You think things have changed in just two years? Trust me...you haven't seen shit."

I stared into his eyes unblinkingly. He glared back as he assessed me. I kept my face as twitch-free as possible, trying to convey my sincerity.

Because when you can't fake it, tell the truth.

Smeech huffed before tossing the gun back under his desk. "Go find a chair and let's talk business then, skunk-ass."

I tried to keep my breathing steady as I straightened, smoothing out my hair.

"And stop pointing that fuckin' gun at me," Smeech griped. "I wasn't lying about not killing your pets."

I turned around, catching Sevika looking at me with a pinched expression. Jinx kept her gaze locked on Smeech, her lip twitching a bit. I gave her a reassuring smile and opened my arms. Slowly, the gun lowered. A second later she crashed into me with a tight hug.

I let myself relax in her arms. My heartbeat started to settle.

"How fuckin' adorable…" he huffed behind me.

I'll believe him, for now.

If I didn't, that would've led to option A. That plan involved the celling Whump using my gun to blow Smeech's brains out at the first sign of trouble.

Thank God for Jinx showing them how to point and shoot.

It probably would have led to us jumping out the window in a mad scramble. As much as Jinx would like that, things were simpler this way. It saved us time not fully maintaining the industry ourselves or picking a new Chem-Baron to take it over.

And Smeech was an interesting character regardless.

I still wanted a Yordle on our council, after all.

Chapter 13: Burn My Flesh Away

The yo-yo trick he did is called Throw the Baby if you want to check it out.

This chapter was originally going to end two more scenes from now, but It got big enough that I felt this was a natural place to stop.

The Pneuma tubes are actually canon. It's shown in the show when Grayson receives the message from Vander.

I've been waiting for this chapter to say anything about Vivek ignoring the cyberware. I wanted to show that he's not infallible, explain his tendency to hyper-focus, and the steps he takes to correct his mistakes. Then we can explore the progression of Zaun. That's why I planned for this quest to lead to Smeech. And why Viv is self-reflecting.

On that note, do let me know what you thought of Vivek this chapter. This is a part of him I really want to get right. I think I've done a good job of showing how he rationalizes his actions, now I want to grow him as a planner. He's not suddenly a super genius or anything, but I think these events make sense when he knows the area and has time to prepare. He can still be caught off guard and he'll learn from that. Cough—soon—Cough.

I also wanted Jinx to contribute as well. Show how he's taking her capabilities and influence into account and all. That's why for once she's not the attack dog.

Anyways, I'm gonna go put a dozen hours into Marvel Rivals.

Thank you for reading!

Moves Like Jagger

Placeholder77 said:

Vivek muttered, "Sorry Mick..."

I know that first scene in chapter 1 wasn't the most well written. But I find it really amusing that not a single person mentioned this. That's why Jagger was named as he was.

Suffice to say, I've been looking forward to using this title.

BTW pay attention to the lyrics for the insert song this chapter.

My fists slammed against the punching bag in a steady rhythm.

I breathed deeply and slowly from my nose, just as I would do when running. The bag tilted back with every punch, the chain rattling. My knuckles were beginning to grow sore from repeatedly hitting the heavy bag, but Sevika would yell at me if I didn't do some exercise every day.

I sighed, grabbing the bag and resting my head against it. I had a 'training' regime that I was supposed to follow. Even if I didn't get into fights all the time, I wanted to be ready if it came to it. I knew there would probably be a lot of conflict in my future, I couldn't just hide behind Jinx.

I placed my palms against my apartment floor, starting my set of pushups. The sides of my fingers were beginning to itch, a consequence of using the tight yo-yo string as the skin thickened. Some of my body was already conditioned from my free running, such as my legs or the callouses on my hands. But I was finally at the age where I could toughen up a bit.

I was going to be at least as tall as Silco, but I'd probably end up a bit wider.

I moved to do my stretches, my eyes gliding across the walls of the room. There were pictures, scribbled or not, set up. There were also the plushies and Knick knacks on the floor, stacked in neat corners. One was Mr. Bunny, who sat on some pillows and was well loved. Another was Ms. Bunny, the original, who unfortunately had her arms nailed to the wall.

I kept the apartment clean, but living with Jinx always led to sort of organized chaos. It was familiar, made the place feel like home. I was worried staying at The Last Drop would be bad for her. Well, that and the complications that came with living at a nightclub.

Honestly, we still needed more space. Her drawings and spare parts took over most of the apartment.

This deep in Silco's territory, I allowed my protective Whump net to thin out. Although I could cycle them in and out, they were used to following a set schedule, and we still had to make our deliveries. There was no need to tire them out unnecessarily.

After finishing my next set of stretches, I made my way to the shower. I didn't want to go to bed sticky.

Thank God drug money can buy a good water heater.

I relished the water running down my back, the warmth soothing my aching muscles. Conditions could vary in the Undercity, so I didn't want to take this luxury for granted.

I frowned, thinking back to Smeech, who enjoyed the heat while his employees worked with in the chill. It had been a few days since our introduction. We were given a list of who he sold the prototypes to, but it didn't lead to anything definite yet. We were still investigating, but for now, all we could do was wait for something to come up.

Smeech was a nominal ally. I'd treat him carefully going forward, he seemed like the kind of guy to follow where the wind blows. As long as we remained in a position of power, didn't give him reason to rebel, and showed him the benefits of our cooperation, then we shouldn't have anything to fear from him.

But that doesn't mean he's weak, I thought to myself, drying up from my shower.

He joined Margot and Renni in our little power bloc. Our dealings with the rest of the Baron's were either more neutral, or outright cold. They were dragging their heels, not fulling committing to our council, or waiting to see what happened next. It led to a bit of a cold war, with skirmishes being light along territory lines. But that was fine, the more time we had the more we consolidated.

The rest of the Chem-Baron's just couldn't keep up with us.

I left the bathroom, and after a short walk found myself in front of my bed. Or maybe I should say our bed. Jinx lay on it, tossing my yo-yo up and down. Her braid was undone, leading to her hair sprawling out around her. I haven't seen her cut it once in all the time we spent together.

"Finally, you're done. Can we sleep now?" Jinx asked me, tossing the yo-yo to the counter.

She was dressed in her fluffy blue pajamas, so she was ready for bed. But…

I narrowed my eyes at her, hands on my hips. "You did your teeth, right?"

"I brushed," Jinx said with a shrug.

"But did you floss?"

Jinx sat up on the bed, rolling her eyes. "Vi, I'm tired. We've been running around everywhere recently, missing one night won't kill me!"

I shook my head. "Tch, you need to floss before going to sleep. If you don't the biofilm will build up. Get up and do that real quick."

She turned her head away with an exaggerated motion. "Nope, not gonna. It takes too long."

"Jinx."

"I'm sore! I don't wanna get up! You took too long in the bathroom like always!"

"You have to floss your teeth, Jinx." I sighed.

"No! You can't make me! If you want me to do it so bad, then you do it!"

I took a few steps forward, putting my hands on the bed, and staring deep into her eyes. "Don't think I won't."

She glared back up at me. "Try me."

I kept her gaze as I considered how to go about this. I couldn't—and didn't want to—punish her. It really wasn't that big of a deal, but it was important to build good habits for when she was older, especially with the Undercity's dental care. I could force her to do it, but then she might get upset.

But if she's already in a playful mood…

I spun around and marched to the bathroom. In only a few seconds I was back with a spool of floss around my finger. "Last chance…you're flossing one way or another."

"I'm not getting off this bed," Jinx declared.

I groaned as I wrapped my arms around her, picking her up. She giggled as I shuffled her onto my lap. We sat at the edge of the bed, facing the large window that was placed on the wall. Jinx leaned back into me, shifting a bit to get more comfortable. Looking at our reflection like this, I could see her height compared to mine.

It's as if she could fall right into me.

My heartbeat was against her back. Jinx tilted her head up at me, her cheek brushing against me. I could feel the warmth of her skin, just as she could surely feel mine. Her slight weight was pushed against my lap.

I swallowed.

This could be seen as an improper position for siblings to take, but we were always physically close. Silco was busy most of the time, so I was happy to have someone I could dote on. A hug here, a caress there, should we stop just because we were getting older? There was nothing wrong with what we were doing. Jinx was comfortable and so was I. In the end, that was all that mattered.

"Well?" Jinx prompted.

I tied the string around my fingers, pulling it taut. Wordlessly, Jinx opened her mouth as my fingers neared. I stared at our reflection as she did. There was a warm breath against my fingers as I started at the front of her teeth.

She had the slightest gap between her two front teeth. If she had braces when she was younger, then it probably would have grown in straight. Not that I had an issue with it, it was just something I noted.

I was thankful my teeth were as good as they were in this life. I must've got those genes from my mother.

I'm such a pretty boy in this life.

The baby fat in my cheeks was disappearing, turning them more angular. Silco must've been a real heartbreaker when he was younger.

I leaned my head down closer, until my cheek was pressed against her temple. Ever so slowly I wrapped the floss around a tooth before gliding it up and down. I focused on her teeth as she stared at our reflection.

As I made it to her back molars my thumb poked against the inside of her cheek. It was hot and wet, and soft to my touch.

My heartbeat was fast against her, but it was only the leftover adrenaline from my exercises.

I reached her lower teeth. Her mouth wasn't fully open, my motions started to move her bottom lip. As I smoothly cleaned her teeth, my fingers brushed against Jinx's tongue. With hesitation, the tip of the hot muscle licked up as my fingers came down.

We were so close together, I was almost folded on top of her. Jinx's hands were gripped around my knees.

She's so small…

"There…all done," I whispered, looking at the mirror. Jinx stared up at me as I removed my fingers. Her lips closed slowly as I did so, letting a knuckle lightly kiss against her lips.

Jinx nuzzled into me, no longer gazing at the mirror, but at me. Her eyes seemed narrowed ever so slightly as she stared curiously.

I looked down, meeting her gaze. Jinx's chest went up and down against my own, taking slow breaths. We kept our eye lock as we enjoyed the contact.

Then we flinched from the banging at the front door.

There were a few quick rapid pounds before it opened. Someone rushed their way into the apartment.

If they made it this far without a Whump letting us know, then they should be an ally, I thought.

Considering the extra rooms were being used, it took only a second for them to reach us.

"Vivek, it worked! We got the rat! And we—" Deckard paused at seeing the two of us, his mouth halfway open. Jinx was still on my lap, tilting her head at him.

"You, uh—sorry, I-I shouldn't've rushed in like that," Deckard said, a coat of sweat on his forehead from his running.

I waved it off. "It's fine. More importantly, you got our leak?"

Deckard nodded, glancing between us. "Yeah…it was Mack."

I furrowed my brow.

A handler was in charge of a route, and they only knew which route they were running the day of. Although, some could stay on the same route, depending on the circumstances. Talking about the routes with each other was also forbidden. Considering that, I made a list of everyone who I could think was ever on that specific path. I focused especially on those that were on that route recently.

Following Silco's advice, I kept my records to a minimum on physical paper. But it still helped to keep track of something that important, and we should know if the enforcers started investigating us.

We only had so many handlers, so that narrowed the traitors down. From there, I had a Whump follow each of our suspects as stealthily as possible, even Deckard and the gang. I tried to keep news of the attack to a minimum, but the handlers could tell the Whumps were agitated, some were aware of what happend.

It added another tangle to the thread for me to keep track of.

"A Whump caught him sending something through the Pneuma tube office," Deckard said. "Next day, a couple of thugs were sniffing around the route he was on a few days prior."

I also made sure we weren't using the same routes one after another. The suspects weren't using the same ones, and they were switched out rapidly. Mack would've been the only on that route for a bit.

Correlation doesn't mean causation…but still.

"Were they dressed up?" I asked.

"Yeah…bandoliers and berets, same as before."

What was this obsession with framing Wencher? Assuming he truly wasn't involved, that is.

He was the most outwardly aggressive of the Chem-Barons. Was that why? Did it make him an acceptable target?

I gave him a nod. "Thanks for letting me know, I appreciate it. Was there anything else?"

"Yeah," Deckard said, "The boss wants to see you. Both of you."

I stopped my eyes from narrowing.

You went to him first instead of me?

I suppose it made sense, Silco was the overseer of everything after all. And we were more likely to be asleep than him right now.

But something about Deckard not coming to us first annoyed me.

I smiled.

"Then we'll be on our way."

Jinx and I once again found ourselves in front of Silco's desk.

We were having an impromptu meeting. Not everyone important was here, Sevika for instance was off on some task. Some of the 'inner circle' was around though. Like Jeryk, standing off to the side. He was pretty unique for our group of soon-to-be revolutionaries. I never gave him a nickname because I felt it might be a bit racist to do so.

Jeyrk was a Chirean. A race of bat-like people native to the caverns of Zaun. He leaned against the couch, scratching at the thin hair clinging to the bottom of his chin. He was the only Chirean I had seen with facial hair. Jeryk had their typical black hair, his being swept back.

I was under the impression that every 'animal-like' race was a Vastaya, like Ahri, who was a literal nine tailed fox. Apparently, that was absolutely not the case. It wasn't just Human, Yordle, and Vastayan. This world had Minotaurs, Trolls, all kinds of various races. From what I understood, it was the amount of magic someone had in their blood that constituted being a Vastayan. The term itself wasn't something that was widely known.

Piltover being a trade city meant that there were all kinds of races around. But besides Humans, Chireans, and this one fish-like race, were a close second in population.

I glanced over to Deckard, who was behind me, doing his best to keep a straight back.

I wonder what it felt like for him. To be in this room, surrounded by important people, to rise through the ranks so rapidly.

"Then we're all caught up?" Silco asked, the orange of his eye sparking to a controlled burn.

There were nods and conformations all around.

"Now, to our rat problem." The eye turned to me. "Vivek, you're responsible for questioning him. Grab him, find out who he's been feeding information to."

Silco's good eye narrowed to a glare. "Smeech sold a prototype to Barons such as Wencher and Chross. We can't allow ourselves to be pulled into a wild goose chase."

That was the thing. Wencher did have a prototype. The man had recently replaced his aging arms with thick implants. I thought it was natural for him to have an interest in the advancing chem-tech.

"I spoke with Wencher. He was angered at the suggestion that he attacked us. He insists he had no part in this," Silco said. "And I believe him. Wencher isn't the kind to hide his intentions. I know how he thinks, if was involved, he would have tired to kill me then and there."

I had never met him, so I would trust Silco's opinion.

"Then, it's someone who knew Wencher had a prototype?" I spoke my thoughts aloud.

"That is a possibility. Regardless," Silco suddenly stood up and leaned his hands against the desk. The orange burned in his dark sclera. "I've had enough of this distraction. I'm going to meet with Smeech, ensure his cooperation. Jinx, I need you with me."

"What, why? I wanted to stay with Vi and beat up the snitch!" Jinx whined by my side.

Silco shook his head but kept his voice patient. I knew he would be harsher with any other of his workers. "No. It was your device that was brought to Smeech. You need to follow through. Answer any of his lingering questions," Silco huffed.

His posture straightened as he smoothed out his hair. "We all have our roles to play…Jinx."

"Okay…" Jinx sighed, leaning over to rest on my shoulder.

"Maybe next time," I smiled to her.

Silco wasn't wrong. I had asked for help in building something to show off to Smeech, and she had done it promptly. It might further our connection if Jinx could give him some insights into the cybernetic Chemware. Anyone else, and I'd doubt they would have anything to offer. But not Jinx; she was a genius.

With Jinx this close to me, her head on my shoulder, her warmth mixing with my own…

I remembered the feeling of my fingers in her mouth.

…And maybe it was for the best I did this by myself.

"Jeryk, stay with Vivek. Follow his orders, but don't interfere unless necessary," Silco commanded.

The Chirean gave a lazy salute. "Roger dodger, boss."

It was interesting how he worded that. Not 'keep an eye out' but 'follow his orders.' Was this his way of giving me more responsibility?

Silco looked at me with a weighty gaze.

"Do you remember Jagger, child?" He asked me solemnly. I gave him a nod. It wasn't like I could ever forget my first. "Forget about the why. Focus on what happened. You were betrayed—disrespected. Show why this was the wrong decision to make."

I had a feeling…it wasn't just me he was talking to here.

"Make an example."

It didn't take long to round Mack up. We cleared out The Last Drop for tonight. It wasn't like it had to be open all the time.

The light was dim with the neon turned off. I stared down from the upper floor to the bound Mack. He was in a chair, hands tied behind him with thick rope. His greasy brown hair, normally pulled back to a bun, was now messy around his head. Mack had a bruise on his chin, but that was it.

You would think otherwise, given how his eyes darted about. Unfortunately for him, the bar hid me from his gaze.

Mack was young, somewhere between me and Deckard. At the most, he was probably 17.

Since this was my operation, I had Deckard go with a few of the bigger leg breakers to pick Mack up. Once a Whump confirmed he was alone, it was a simple smash and grab. Deckard was placed in front of him, asking him questions. The rest of the gang were loosely around Mack. Deckard was pretty much my main goon at this point. And although I would be in charge of more than just him, I wanted to cultivate his loyalty.

Trust him with more responsibility. Pull him deeper into the organization. It was the natural thing to do.

It was a step in the right direction, but before I could truly earn their love, I had to guarantee I could inspire fear.

Jeryk smoked a cigar at my side, while I wrinkled my nose at the smell. It was a bad habit that the people around me often partook in. I was lucky enough that it didn't rub off on me.

"You, uh, ever do something like this before, alone?" Jeryk asked as he lounged on the guardrail, his eyes never leaving the chair.

"By myself? No, I've always had someone with me."

Jeryk grunted in response. "Hmm, interrogations. They're like pulling the shit out of your ass when you got constipation." He shook his head. "Nasty work, but it's gotta be done."

I opened my mouth—

…What?

—Then closed it, giving him a firm nod. "Wisdom like that is why we keep you around, Jeryk." I gave him a pat on the back as I made my way down the stairs.

"Just don't overthink it," Jeryk gave a last bit of advice.

Crude metaphor aside, he wasn't wrong.

It had to be done.

The building wasn't completely filled. My gang were at the bottom, and Silco was letting us take the lead on this. But a few of the other soldiers were hanging around on the top floor. The gruff faces helped to sell the image. I could already hear the clinking of glasses behind me.

That was important to note: it wasn't just my men here, it was Father's men.

People who, for whatever reason, worked for a Baron. I could only imagine the brutal shit they did under his orders. And I was to inherit them and their loyalty. They would have expectations of me. I would need to answer that loyalty, just as I did with my Whumps.

It was known that the Whumps were my project, so they knew I was capable. But I needed to prove my ruthlessness, show that I could be trusted with their loyalty. Some of these people had families to feed. They were relying on me.

I wouldn't leave them out in the cold like Smeech. It was time to prove myself.

A finger slid down the handrail as my feet tapped against the pristine stairs.

"Vivek!" Mack's head shot up at the sight of me. "Buddy, there's been a mistake. I didn't do anything! You think I'm stupid enough to go against your father?"

I didn't answer him, instead walking past to the record player by the front door.

I never got a bad vibe from him, I mused, looking through the records. It was too silent in here. I picked though the songs at random.

Part of being a leader in Zaun was about inspiring fear. Even Vander, rest his soul, had the reputation to back up his words. People knew better than to step out of his line, and those that did stayed far away as possible. But how would I do that?

I considered the people I called family. Silco was an unchained predator. He stalked around, like he was eyeing a piece of meat. When he spoke, his words were controlled, and he never told a lie.

Anticipation.

Then there was Jinx. People were afraid of her because they couldn't understand her. They thought she would go 0–100 at the drop of a hat. That she was a hair breadth away from painting the walls with our blood. I knew better, obviously, but that was how they saw her.

Unpredictability.

But I couldn't do what they did. Mimic them and hope for the best. Try to be something I wasn't. The answer was simple, really.

I turned around and graced Mack with a smile.

I just had to be myself.

Deckard let me take over as I walked to the front of the chair. "We have some things to talk about, Mack."

His arms fidgeted behind him. "I would never want to fuck you over. I like my job, Vivek," Mack sighed out.

"Then why did you?" I quirked an eyebrow.

"I'm telling you, I didn't! I wouldn't!"

The thing about physical torture, eventually you get to a point where the prisoner would tell you whatever you want, all in attempt to make it stop. That wasn't what we needed right now.

I stopped my natural reaction to tap my fingers on my leg from anxiety. Instead, I played it up, bringing my fingers to the chair arms and tapping repeatedly. It wasn't like he was using them anyways.

"That's okay," I said soothingly. "I'm not going to shoot you." I raised my voice, looking around the room. "In fact, no one here is going to do that either, no one will shoot you or stab you. Swear it on my mother's grave. And trust me, that is not a promise I make lightly. Dad wouldn't let me."

"You…aren't going to kill me?" Mack asked, glancing at Deckard.

I shook my head. "Just talk to me truthfully, and I'll see what I can do about those ropes. We caught you sending a message to someone, little bit later, thugs show up on the route you were on last. It's not a good look. I have to know who hurt my Whumps, Mack."

Mack lowered his head, letting it hang for a second before he looked at me with firm eyes. "I'm sorry, Vivek. But I had nothing to do with that."

"And you didn't tell anyone about your route—"

"Not a soul!"

And yet, all the signs pointed to him.

"Then why were they on your route?" I tilted my head at him.

"I…I don't know," Mack said, lowering his eyes again.

Hmm.

They had to have known we'd be alert after the attack. Did they just not care about him?

I glanced to Deckard. "Keep asking him questions. Gently, please."

Deckard started the interrogation back up as I walked to the bar. I looked between the taps and hung-up steins before I found an empty beer bottle on the counter. I held it up to the faint light, narrowing my eyes as I inspected it.

"What are you…doing?" Mack asked, looking my way.

The goon to the side of him snapped his fingers. "None of you're business. Pay attention, rat," Tachy said. I also called him goon #2 in my head. He was the one with the shaved head.

"Let's go over this shit one more time," I heard Deckard start as I entered the bar fully. I glanced up at where Vander's old steel gauntlets used to be. Silco kept them in a lock box in his office now. Far away from the rowdiness downstairs.

There's a reason he's not here anymore.

I moved to the small sink that was tucked to the side. It was used in emergencies when the kitchen was too filled. I turned the water on, waiting a second for the water heater to kick in. I put the bottle under the water after I started to hear that tell-tale click.

I turned the knob to as hot as it would get. It was scalding as I turned the bottle in my hand, rotating it around. Like a perpetual sting that grew to cover every inch of my nerves. My hands turned a cherry red as the heat began to feel cold, my hands being overwhelmed by the molten heat. Steam started to waft up.

I grit my teeth; I could take a little pain.

I switched the knob to cold, rotating the bottle to the other side. There was a relief as the cold hit my flesh. My hands cried in rapture. My skin was throbbing from the heat. It took but a second for the relief to turn to pain. The water pressure was high as it smashed into me. Needles were pushed between my fingers and under my nails before once again my nerves were overwhelmed, and the cold began to feel like heat.

I huffed as I turned the water off. I grabbed a stray rag and began to dry the bottle. It would be embarrassing if I dropped it after all that. I walked back to the open area, with a few of my goons glancing at me. Deckard stopped his questions as I leaned against the bar counter.

Circumcision existed on Runeterra.

Wasn't that strange? Or maybe it wasn't. Maybe it was only natural for a similar tradition to pop up here. Regardless, I was amused when I first read about it in a fact book. Apparently, it started as a practice by some Shuriman tribes. It was absorbed into the Shuriman empire, and as they expanded, knowledge of the tradition did as well. It wasn't commonly practiced nowadays, but it was still understood in the cultural zeitgeist. Probably more so here than other places, given how many people ran through the markets.

"Hey, Mack. Are you circumcised?" I asked casually.

Silence.

Even the murmurs from upstairs stopped.

Mack's face scrunched up like a deflated basketball. "W-what?...uh, I-I mean…no?"

I gave a hum of acknowledgement.

I grabbed the bottle with both hands and slammed it into the bar counter as hard as I possibly could. It shattered into pieces, the noise overpowering the song. A small shard of glass cut into my arm, piercing my black suit. I ignored the sting and the blood that started to drip.

I waved the broken bottle lazily to his direction.

"Do you want to be?"

Goon #2 took a step back.

Mack started to breathe heavily. It came out in wheezes, almost as if he couldn't decide whether to laugh or not. "Are you—are you serious?" I took a slow step forward. "Whoa, whoa, wait a second!"

"Hold him down," I ordered, my smile dropping.

The goons looked between each other, the worry clear on their faces. Deckard was first to snap back, rushing over and putting one hand on Mack's shoulder and another on his leg. The rest followed after that, peaking at me.

"Wait, what the fuck! This is crazy, I didn't do nothing wrong!"

I put my foot forward, one after another, ever so slightly. The glass crunched under my shoes as I did. It was a good thing the glass used in bottles down here was so cheap and thin. Otherwise, that temperature trick wouldn't have worked.

"Wait, wait, wait! Vivek, you know me!" Mack shouted. "I've been working for you since you started!"

That was the thing about fear, about horror. Like sex, like salivating for a baked treat, it was all about anticipation. You had to build up to it as if you were telling a good joke.

I took another step forward.

"I-I didn't meant to—" I stopped in front of him. "I didn't mean for this to happen! Please!"

Bingo.

I sighed. "See, that wasn't too hard was it? Let go of him," I said to the goons that surrounded Mack. They gave a quick look to make sure before they did so. I tossed the bottle behind me, letting it roll somewhere.

I'll clean that later.

I took a slow breath. I wasn't actually going to circumcise the guy with broken glass. That was crazy.

But he didn't know that.

Far as he was aware, I was the son of a mob boss. And I could see someone like Deckard quietly mentioning my past deeds. Mack didn't know what I would do, and that was the goal. But if he and Silco's other workers thought I might do it? Then it only helped to show that I could make the hard decisions.

With that said, that reputation all relied on if I could back it up. Eventually, I would have to do something terrible to show I wasn't all bluster.

"Okay…from the top. What happened?" I asked, rolling up a stray white hair.

Mack breathed out a sigh of relief. "Look…I…I'm not working for no rival organization. It's just—" he paused, chewing at his cheek. "I have a debt, okay? My dad owed money, and when he skipped town it fell to me and my family to settle it."

I let him talk, watching as his bangs began to stick to his clammy skin. "I'm the oldest, right? I got a responsibility to provide. To look after my family. You understand that don't you?"

"I do. I do understand," I said, placing my hands on my hips. "But that's why you need to tell me exactly what's going on. These people you owe, are they the ones you're feeding information to?"

"It's…yeah, it's them," Mack said with a wince. "At first, I would give away some info in exchange for paying some of the debt. It was the little things and not all of it was about Silco. Who went where after their shift, shit like that. But then they started asking for more dangerous info, and when they found out I worked for you…"

"Did they ask you to get a job in our organization?"

I handpicked the handlers, so I certainly hoped not.

"No! They found out by accident…I fucked up and let it slip." Mack's eyes were large as he looked up at me. "I like my job, Vivek. It's quiet, it pays well, and there's not a lot of danger. But they won't take no for an answer. My family is under their thumb, and if I say no, they start pressin' in. I've got siblings, a mom relying on me to put food on the table."

His gaze burned into my own.

"What else was I supposed to do?"

I considered that. I needed to clarify some things first. "What do they know of us?"

"Not much…they know we use the Whumps for delivery and that we got a drop-off system. They only started demanding the routes recently. I-I didn't know they'd hurt them…" Mack finished quietly.

The pile of dead racoons proves otherwise.

"Well, you should've expected it," I snapped at him. "You keep saying 'they' who is this? Where are they located?"

He winced again, looking away. "That's the thing…I don't know. All I know is that I miss a payment, they show up. I don't know their base—but! There's this club by Old Hungry, that unfinished clock tower in the Sump? It's an info ring, completely neutral. That's where I send all my messages."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "What's this club called."

"It's, uh, Debauchery and Delights."

Never heard of it.

At least the husk of Old Hungry was easy enough to find.

I took out my yo-yo, bouncing it up-and-down. Mack's eyes followed the motion. "Final question for you," I said, "How much does your family owe?"

He rattled off a number.

And I frowned.

"Did it occur to you…what might happen, ratting out a Chem-Baron? Did you not think of asking my father to take on the debt instead?"

"Asking Silco?" Mack scoffed, "You said it yourself, he's a Baron. I had no idea how he might react." His eyebrows twitched down. "I can't risk that. Not when my debt passes down when I'm gone. I'm trapped, Vek. I have to do what I know will keep my family safe."

"Well, I don't think you'll have to worry about that debt anymore," I stated with a smile. "No one's going to be there to collect it, after all."

"You mean…?" Mack's eyes were wide with hope.

"That group attacked us. It's only fair we respond to them in turn."

Silco would at least ensure they were crippled. It was a matter of respect. But even beyond that, the Whumps needed their pound of flesh. I refused to let anyone think they could get away with hurting them.

"Then does that mean…you'll let me go?" Mack asked quietly.

I spun my yo-yo, flicking the string. The string was long, I had to be careful not to let it sag to the floor. "Your siblings, they work?"

Mack jolted. "Uh, yeah…they're old enough to work in the factories now."

Child labor was more common than I liked in Zaun. It was one of my long-term goals to change that.

"Your mom?"

"Kinda? She works at one of the blue bird shelters."

So, he wasn't the sole breadwinner. That was good to know. And blue birds normally looked after their own.

"She's a Janna worshiper then. Are you as well?"

Mack paused for a second before replying, "…No, I'm not. Mom believes, but it's not….my thing." His face tightened. "Why are you asking me this?"

I had never heard of Janna as a character before, had no idea if she was real or not. There were all kinds of cults around, worshiping some deity or another. Like that turtle cult who espoused that getting high was the solution to world peace. None of them were big enough to be called a proper religion, but of all the cults, Janna worship was the oldest and largest.

I had no idea which deities were real or not. Knowing this world, it could very well be all of them. I personally wasn't interested in worshiping anything. And there weren't any signs of divine innervation, but I still tried to keep a respectable distance.

I made sure to always give a nod if I saw any praying turtle idols.

I clicked my tongue, folding my sting a few times and spreading both hands to make a star shape. You had to use both hands for the more complicated tricks.

There's no way I can let him walk out of here.

I was sympathetic. He was a dumb kid doing the best he could do. But Silco said it best, the why didn't matter. I let him off, and people start thinking they can get away as long as they feed me a sob story. I believed him, but what else could I do in this situation?

I could feel the eyes upstairs burning into me.

"…Vivek?"

Of course I didn't want to kill him. But I couldn't run through this same issue again and again. From a certain perspective, I could even commend him. Mack did exactly what he set out to do. His family would never again have to worry about their debt. I would make sure of it.

He's a good son, I nodded to myself, steeling my resolve.

I would ensure his death wasn't meaningless. By doing this in view of the solders, I would prove my worth. Have the organization trust me all the more. There was meaning in that.

"Are you—" I cut him off, quickly pulling the shape over his head. I pulled my fingers away before he could react, closing the knot around his throat. One hand held the yo-yo itself, the other with lines of string spooling through my fingers. If I pulled too fast I would yank the string off. That would trigger the mechanism inside, and I didn't want to do that in The Last Drop.

So, I pulled slowly, letting the string grow accustomed to the tension.

"You," Mack started to rasp out, his eyes wide with fear and betrayal. "You…promised."

"No, Mack. I said I wouldn't shoot you. I never once lied to you. I wouldn't do that in my mother's name," I said gently.

He tried to push his head forward, but that only caused the knot to grow tighter. Regardless, panic started to set in. He attempted to jerk his body out of the chair.

My foot slammed down onto the chair, between his legs, preventing it from tipping. Mack's legs were tied but his thighs closed around my shoe. He was desperate to do anything to survive.

Mack gurgled as he tried to push out the air, causing it to go low in his throat.

He shook in the chair, eyes rapidly glancing at the goons for some kind of assistance. They watched on with a grimace.

Deckard kept his face placid.

I stretched my hands out, as for the second time, I strangled someone to death.

The idea just wouldn't leave my head.

I kept coming back to it. Like an ouroboros, a snake coiling around itself before it suffocated. It was why I decided on the yo-yo. It was just an intermediary so I could get used to the concept. I knew what it was like to suffocate. To be dragged into the muck, and to know the more you fought, the more it pulled you down. It would reach into your nose and mouth, blind your eyes, and steal your breath from the inside out.

I rasped, staring at the clear blue sky. The birds and cicadas sang me a lullaby as I entered the final sleep. The trail was rarely traveled in winter. It would take time for someone to find me.

I once heard that a weapon was an extension of yourself. Maybe others thought differently, but in a world like Runeterra, I had to take that literally. Jinx was to be a Champion. Someone above the rest. Such a thing seemed inevitable to me.

Who is Jinx? What's important to her?

Jinx was like an explosion. Bright, beautiful, flashy. Everywhere she went she drew attention, although some people were scared of her. She was chaotic but not unpredictable. That was the misunderstanding, chaos wasn't randomness. Jinx wasn't random. Jinx was an explosion.

Why couldn't I be like a string?

Mack's head rolled down, his eyes glassy and unseeing. A bit of drool was dribbling from his mouth.

I breathed as I undid the string and tossed it back into my pocket. I gave my goons a nod as I straightened up. I grunted as I pulled the tiny glass shard out of my arm, the sting burning at me.

My head raised up, looking to the upper floor. Jeryk still leaned against the rail with a relaxed posture. He let out a big puff of smoke before raising his cigar in a salute.

At least he approves.

I turned back to what was once Mack. He said he didn't believe in Janna, but…

I clapped my hands together and closed my eyes. "Dear, Janna," I spoke aloud. It was safer to be careful with things like this. "If you exist, may you embrace this lost soul and guide his mother. I swear, here and now, his family will live knowing the taste of fresh air. His siblings will know a better world than he did. His sacrifice will not be in vain."

I would guarantee it.

I would build that future.

Brick by brick.

Chapter 14: Moves Like Jagger

It begins. In more ways than one!

This is one of those chapters that makes me think twice about posting this anywhere SFW.

I said there'd be some small arcs in-between the timeskip. But at this point, these are just arcs. This story is definitely going to be longer than I initial expected. But I'm fine with that, and I hope you enjoy the ride with me. All things considered, I think I'm doing okay pacing wise. I'm still under 100k words after all.

Going forward, there'll be more Jinx PoV's. I'd say she's the most important character besides our protagonist anyways. But I want there to be some narrative weight if I show her perspective. I don't want to switch to it just because.

This is where I want Vivek to start verbalizing (thinking?) his thoughts more about the whole string idea. I don't want it to seem like he's just regurgitating what I said before though.

Things start to pop off next chapter. This one was already bigger than I expected, who knows how big that one will be...

Oh well, I had fun writing it.

Let me know your thoughts, and thank you for reading!

Fruit (Show Me the Money)

Sorry for the delay. My holidays were kinda rough, and I certainly wasn't expecting it to be. But I should be back on track now, and at least there's a lot to chew on with this chapter.
Speaking of that, I did not plan for this to be this big. I just sorta entered a fugue state and next thing I knew, the chapter was done.
This should push the story to 100k words. That is absolutely insane. I know it's pretty common in the fanfiction sphere. But like, I'm used to writing a couple 1000 words for essays at most. I never expected to write this much, especially not for fiction. I also never expected to become a fanfic author, but hey, life comes at you fast. This is a lot of fun, so thanks for sticking with me. It means a lot.

It was always important to go on a mission with a full stomach. You could never know just how much things could spiral. That's the last time you ever want to be hungry. Given that we were about to scope out the inside of the Debauchery and Delights ourselves, we needed some extra energy.
The welcoming bell jingled as I opened the door.
"Hi, Granny!" Jinx rushed out from behind me, hopping to the counter.
I took a moment to admire the scent of cinnamon and chocolate as I stepped in. Gutsy's place hadn't changed much in the past few years. It still had its wooden floors and confections on display. Each of the sweets were plated lovingly, a skill born from years of Gutsy's hard work.
Grandma Gutsy was leaned behind the counter, staring down at it. I couldn't make out her expression from here.
"Oh! Hello there, Jinx," Gutsy greeted, raising her head to reveal saggy eyes. The ink of her tattoos seemed blurrier and more stretched nowadays. She graced us with a shaky smile as she glanced at me. "I didn't expect to see you two again this week. Do you have another delivery for me?"
"Sorry, you'll need to buy directly if you want more," I said with an apologetic shake of my head. "Regular drops are still once a week."
I wasn't responsible for running the drop offs here anymore, Rico's crew took that back over. But since I came here every so often, Silco thought it was fine for me to handle delivering directly to Gutsy. I didn't visit as much as I would like. I was typically busy with other things, so I would have her prepare a large order for the whole week. There were other sugar shops I frequented, but Granny just had that nostalgic taste.
"Ah, well…that's okay," Gutsy said, her smile brightening. "What can I get for you two today?"
Jinx shot her arm up like she was in a classroom. "A stack of cavernberry cookies, please!"
"Again?" I raised an eyebrow. "You need to experiment some more. You drink enough of the juice as it is."
As the name implied, cavernberries were the most plentiful fruit down here. It gave us easy access to something that actually tasted fresh.
Jinx stuck her tongue out at me. "Like you're one to talk," she said before turning back to Gutsy. "And he'll take some mint chocolate cookies, half a dozen!"
"Ah, you already know his order?" Gutsy chuckled. "Then let me grab my prepared stock in the back. I'll be just a minute."
"Don't bend your back too much," Jinx joked as Gutsy left her post. We watched for a moment in silence before Jinx's enthusiasm dropped, her shoulders sagging a bit. "Hey…she looked down."
"Mhmm." I glanced around the shop. There wasn't much out of the ordinary. The same glass, the same counters. But the place was small, it didn't take me long to notice something. An absence in one of the corners.
"No dog bed," I noted, feeling a pang of realization.
"He could be out for one of his walks?"
I shook my head. "The bed would still be there. It always is."
Damn.
Poor thing. Granny Gutsy would be lonely without him. It could have happened in any number of ways. I doubt he would just run away. Princess was loyal. Something might have just got him on one of his walks. It was unfortunate, but not unbelievable. Now, if someone attacked him, that would be a different story. I wouldn't let that slide, not when it was Gutsy.
"Aww, that's sad…I liked Princess," Jinx moped, shuffling over until we were shoulder to shoulder.
Before long, Gutsy came back with a crinkled brown bag.
"Here you go dearies. All stained and ready," she said as she placed the bag down.
"Hey Granny," I began, placing the necessary gears, "you doing okay? Did something happen to Princess?"
Gutsy paused in the middle of grabbing the coins. They clicked together as she closed her hand around them. It took exactly four seconds for her to respond. "Ah, well…he was old—you know?"
And, I made sure not to verbalize and be insensitive, he used to be in the dogfights. That can't have been good for him in the long run.
"So…he's gone?" Jinx questioned, staring up with puppy dog eyes. They were irresistible to me, so I could only imagine how they would affect a nice old lady who loved kids.
Gutsy glanced to the right sharply before giving us a wane smile. "It was just…his time. These things happen sometimes, loves."
"Oh, that's…too bad. I'm sorry to hear that, Granny," I said, watching her.
Gutsy relaxed her body and put away the coins. Jinx tapped my hand as Old Gutsy did so. Jinx must've noticed as well.
She was obviously lying to us.
But why? What was the purpose of that? Something happened to Princess. He wasn't around anymore, that was clear to see. The lazy dog was a constant on all of my visits. He was a protector and friend both. Why lie about him passing from old age?
Something about Gutsy lying about that left me uneasy. I had been here so many times, even helped her out on occasion. She practically watched me grow up. It was hard to reconcile something nefarious with the little old lady in my mind.
But then again…she's clearly been around for a bit. You don't get a name like 'Gutsy' without having some fire in you.
"You know…Vienna used to be a regular as well," Gutsy said, finishing the transaction. "She would always make sure to drag along your father, too."
I was caught off guard at the mention of my mother. "Really?" I asked, maybe a bit too eagerly.
Gutsy smiled at me. "Of course. She would spend most of her money hoarding snacks. Silco always got angry about her using her payment on something he saw as unimportant." Gutsy chuckled at that. "Whenever he did, Vienna would just use that as an excuse to make him pay for it."
"And did he?" Jinx asked with a tilt of her head. I haven't spoken much about my mother to her. Just that she was gone, much like Jinx's own biological parents.
"Always," Gutsy declared, pushing the cookie bag to us.
The conversation continued a bit longer before we said our farewell. We munched on our food, Jinx skipping around me, as I thought back to Princess.
It didn't matter.
Ultimately, it didn't. There were a thousand and one stories happening all over Zaun, all at the same time. Logically speaking, I didn't have the time to know all of them, even if I wanted to. I would never be able to. I really liked Princess, but there was no need to divert precious time to such a small mystery. At least, not at this moment.
The club we were going to required all of our attention.
There were bigger things for us to worry about.

"You sure you want to keep the cookies all scrunched up? We could've just stashed it," I said walking down the street.
Jinx patted at her side pouch, where she also kept all her explosives. "Nah, you'll never know when you'll need a good cookie."
"Fair enough," I nodded, understanding the wisdom.
Our journey for today led us to the Sump.
I considered the Sump the most varied of the layers. You would think it might be the Entresol, given the bustling markets, but there was always a similar 'flavor' to the layer. It was commerce, it was growth, and it was dense. You knew to expect the unexpected there.
The Sump—well, what I thought of as the Sump—came in many kinds of flavors by virtue of its size.
From the dumping pools where I found my Whumps, to the factories and the mines, to abandoned infrastructure. You walk long enough, and you'd eventually find yourself in a different flavor of Zaun.
I doubted a Topsider would understand it. Piltover, despite being the trade capital of the world, had a similar taste everywhere you looked.
You never know what you could find when you went Sump diving, but the large clock tower was definitely surprising.
It was clearly half-finished. It was several stories high, looming above us. At its highest point, only the bottom of the clock was formed, as if it was cleanly bisected. It remined me of a half-eaten corpse. The dark metal beams were like a ribcage. I could understand how it got the name 'Old Hungry.' It was shadowy from the dim light and dust in the air. It made the inside of the tower seem like a void; its black tendrils drawing everything into its all-consuming stomach.
"So, what's the deal with this place?" Jinx asked, hands on her hips as we stared at it.
"I don't know," I responded as I took in our surroundings. "Dad probably knows more of its history, but I can imagine what happened. This was probably…some rich Pilties' idea to revitalize this part of the Undercity. Give people jobs, pump a bunch of money into the local economy, and have a monument they could point to when it was all done. Obviously, for whatever reason, they abandoned the project."
It was a common story, and it left a disdainful taste in my mouth.
It wasn't like everyone from Piltover was out to get us or anything. But still, I knew there would always be those who would want to take advantage of us. Our own people did it, but at least they were Zaunites.
Jinx rotated her head around, scanning the area. "Rest of these buildings don't look too good, either. Well…besides that club." She pointed off to the side with her thumb.
It was strange. In the middle of a bunch of rundown buildings, one stood brightly in the shadow of Old Hungry.
The club's neon lights proudly displayed 'Debauchery And Delights.'
I frowned, conjunctions shouldn't be capitalized.
The club looked as I would expect it to be. It was larger than The Last Drop, in length at least. It had an oblong shape, and it looked as clean as one could reasonably expect from the Undercity. Flashy lights wrapped around the building, each of them filled with burning chem-fluid. It was agonizingly eye-popping.
It looked like it was plucked straight from the Entresol.
There were two bouncers at the front, each of them eyeing the steady stream of people that walked through the doors. It wasn't entirely packed, but it was still enough to be noticeable.
"There's more people here than I would've thought," I said before glancing around. "Actually, take a look at the streets. A lot less trash, too."
Taking a second look revealed that as much as the surrounding buildings were unused, the streets and general area seemed picked clean of the filth. It was like this place was a set in a museum.
This area was open, so I had to be careful how the Whump surveillance net was positioned. And I only knew so much about Debauchery And Delights. It was loud, filled with people. The Whumps could get into some of the vents, but it would be hard to hear me, maybe even see me. A dark quiet room like Smeech's was better for me to work in.
"Well, we won't find out by just gawkin' at it," Jinx said, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Wanna head in?"
We made our way to the club, away from Old Hungry's gluttonous maw. I made sure to pull Jinx close as we stood in line. In only a minute, we were at the front of the club. The bouncers didn't bother to search us, they were here to stop trouble after it happened. With only a quick glance up-and-down, they let us in.
It was a surreal experience, stepping inside.
The hum of far-away machinery gave way to pounding noise, so strong I could almost feel it in my teeth. The area seemed far more open than The Last Drop. There were two floors, the higher of which was separated by a thick wall of glass. In fact, clear was the best way to describe it. The floor was polished as well as the white tile could be. The mirrors that were placed all around reflected the blue blinding light.
It was almost like the place was see-through. However, taking a closer look, there were rooms off to the sides and corners, especially some directly under the top floor. In fact, I couldn't see much of what was happening on that floor.
There was a DJ off to the side on an elevated platform, mixing the record that resounded through the club. He wore some metal helmet that covered his entire face, bobbing his head in time to the music.
But what really caught my eye was the drains built into the ground floor. I wasn't sure if the second floor had them, but the first was littered with small rents on the floor. Far more than what I would expect from a club like this.
I raised my head, there wasn't much I could see of the ceiling, just that it was high above me. The flashing lights made it hard to focus on any important details. I could only make out some pipes and a few strange bumps.
I was more cautious here than I would be at 'home.' Although the setting was familiar, the noise wasn't comforting. I didn't know the guards—every time they looked at me my paranoia ticked up. The crowd wasn't something to clinically watch, instead they were an obstacle to keep in mind.
It put me off balance.
But that was good, that feeling would keep us alive. Keep me from growing complacent. As always, people don't know you're nervous if you don't show it. I made sure to keep my palms tight against me, glancing around and avoiding the bodies.
Naturally, Jinx was much more carefree.
She walked with wide swings of her arms to an open spot on the dance floor. She spun around to me once she claimed the space as her own. "Vi, you should dance with me!"
"We're just here to get a feel for the place," I spoke over the stomps next to us. "Dad wants us to be in-and-out."
Jinx scoffed. "What he doesn't know won't hurt him. We look like every other Sump rat here. You don't gotta be so stuffy!" Her smile turned mischievous. "C'mon, Vi, don't you wanna dance with me?"
I sighed.
We had a few goons check this place out first, but there was something to be said for taking a personal touch. Mack said this was a neutral info ring, and that might be true, but we had to be careful. Whether the club itself was responsible or not, our enemies were still working out of it.
At the same time, things weren't so tense that I had to tell her no. If she wanted us to dance, why not dance?
Well…I guess we can kill a bit of time.
I slowly reached out a hand and matched her smile. Jinx grinned at me, grabbing it roughly as the music began to pick up. She pulled at my arms, swinging them franticly.
Jinx liked to dance. It was just one of her quirks, one of the ways she bled off energy.
I laughed a bit as her braid bounced around her shoulders. Who would've thought Silco, of all people, would be the one to teach me how to braid.
I was more dressed up than the rest of the patrons. A suit was absolutely not what you wore to a club like this. But I found myself not caring as the fabric bunched up
I raised the hand she was holding. Jinx giggled as I twirled her, stepping away before pulling her back to me. Even if the move was unsuited for the vibe, we were having fun, and that's all that mattered in the end.
The light painted the floor blue as we moved back and forth. The music and shouted conversations all fell away to a slurry of background noise. People moved around me, some brushing against my shoulders. I didn't care about any of them.
I only had eyes for Jinx.
My well combed hair was flung out of place. My heart raced in my chest.
The song died down and we came to a stop. Our breath was heavy as I smoothed my hair back up. I could feel the slightest bit of sweat on my back. My cardio workouts were doing me well.
"Just because you've got a job doesn't mean you can't have fun doing it," Jinx laughed, crossing her arms at me.
I snorted. "Well, I'll keep it in mind. I actually—"
I paused mid-sentence. In the corner of my eye, I spotted a bouncer coming our way, glancing around revealed there were several stomping forwards. The crowd parted as they pushed through. Curiously, the stiff looking leg-breakers all wore some kind of suit with a golden lapel. Even The Last Drop didn't bother with stuff like that.
"Hey!" a woman exclaimed as a bouncer pushed her out of the way. The man paid it no mind as he marched up to me. Jinx snuck up to my side, her hand hovering at her side.
"You Jinx and Vivek?" The bouncer asked, looking down at us with practiced distain.
My eye twitched.
Well, we are at an info ring.
And we had distinct appearances. Being so close to Silco, it was only reasonable that people would keep an eye on us. But still…how long did they know we were here?
He didn't give me a chance to answer before he continued. "You've been invited to the second floor. We strongly recommend you take advantage of this rare opportunity."
"And who extended this invitation?" I questioned, starting to tense.
"Mr. Boccus. The owner of this establishment. He asked for a meeting with the two of you."
There were three bouncers around us in a loose circle. They stood out from the other patrons who shot them dirty looks, presumably for killing the vibe. Jinx tilted her head at me as she quirked an eyebrow ever so slightly.
Do we make a loud exit?
I considered our options.
There's three of them, probably a bunch more around the club and at least two outside.
I wasn't worried about fighting our way out of here, but was it worth it?
If we fight, the crowd will be drawn into it. Jinx's explosives would make short work of them, especially with how tight they're packed together.
I would prefer not to do that. Only as the last option, but it was still an option on the table. Even beyond not wanting to kill them, it would be bad rep if we slaughtered our way out of a club. In the future, we would need the support of the common people, and I knew there was a fine line between fear and hate. It was a careful balance that I had to consider. Zaun didn't forget easily.
What are we here to accomplish?
Information. We needed to scope out the place, take its measure. The club owner was offering a meeting, that was something valuable. Between myself, Jinx, and the Whumps, we should be able to escape if necessary.
Then we'll take advantage of it.
I smiled, letting out a slow breath from my nose. "Then lead the way!"
"Good choice," the bouncer grunted, starting to walk away.
Jinx relaxed her hand, but I knew she could pull it out at a moment's notice. She stayed closed as we followed the guard up metal steps, strangely they didn't fit the aesthetic. Instead of glass, they were made of linked metal, leaving openings in the steps. The stairs led us to the glass wall that separated the floors. We walked through the opening in the glass before we beheld the second floor.
The first difference I noticed was that it was made entirely of dark metal. We passed by a small front bar, but that was it in terms of alcohol. Instead, I could see waiters bringing drinks to different patrons. Walls of glass parted off different areas, like see-through rooms. The individuals seemed more composed than those on the lower floor. They were visible, but I couldn't hear them over the noise.
It was like being in a labyrinth of glass.
I suppose that was the point for a 'neutral' info ring. Public, but private dealings.
As strange as this place looked, it still had the wide sweeping curves that were so distinctive in Zaunite architecture.
The bouncer took us to the center of the floor, to one of the rooms with glass walls. The room had a clear view of the entire dance floor. He slid open the glass door before stepping to the side.
I glanced at Jinx, and then walked in with my head held high.
Here's hoping this wouldn't lead to a loud exit.
Glass was a bitch to pick out of your skin.

If I had to give Debauchery And Delights one thing, it's that these plush booth seats were very comfortable.
I stretched my arm out to rest on top of it. The action caused a flare of soreness, that arm was still healing from the glass that pierced it before. A thick cloud of noxious smoke blew my way. It was from a different brand than what Silco smoked, less earthy. The smell was sharp and filled with tobacco. It was all the worse stuck in this small room.
"So…what do you think of the club?" The man sitting across from us asked, speaking for the first time since we sat down.
The first thing I noticed about him was that there was a vulture perched on his shoulder. The second thing I noticed was that the vulture had a gold chain wrapped around its neck.
I need to bling out my Whumps. That would be amusing.
Boccus was a large man, albeit not as much as the late Vander. His bald head shined when the light hit it just the right way. A thick beard was the only hair I could see on him. There was a hint of tattoos on his chest, but I was more focused on the numerous gold chains he wore. A gold choker, and at least three other chains hanging low.
What I found most tacky was the thick white coat that finished off his outfit. The fluffy white fur went down to his waist. It was the cherry on top that sold the whole, 'wannabe gangster' look he had.
Once again, it was like the man wandered straight out of the Entresol. But that was no reason to treat him like a fool. If he ran this club, one that our enemies worked out of, then he was a threat. We had to treat this seriously, present a confident front and take control of the situation.
Naturally, that meant it was a good thing that Jinx was sat on my lap.
"Eh, ours is better. You're trying too hard," Jinx answered with a shrug.
Boccus' grin lost some energy. He waved his hand, showing off the thick gold ring on his middle finger. "Ah, well, I can't begrudge you for preferring your own. But still, I am proud of what I have accomplished here." He gestured to himself. "My name is Boccus, I am responsible for the running of this ring. And you are the wards of Silco?"
"We are, but you were already aware of this," I said, keeping an easy smile.
"I was!" Boccus laughed. "There's not many kids your age with checkered hair, add in the girl with you? It was easy." A meaty hand extended to me. "Welcome to Debauchery and Delights."
I reached around Jinx, clasping his hand. "You know, the 'and' shouldn't be capitalized on the sign," I said, locking eyes with him.
"The majority don't even know the difference," Boccus grinned at me, knowingly, if I was to bet.
…Then was it on purpose? What would that accomplish?
He didn't let go of my hand, even after a few shakes. Up-and-down, he continued to shake it for longer than necessary, he and the vulture staring me down all the while. Boccus didn't squeeze, but the pressure was firm. I flexed my hand cautiously, testing if I could break his grip. It felt like I was reaching into an open bear trap.
Is that why he dresses like this? To throw people off?
He was trying to make me uncomfortable. Even if he managed this club, would an info broker really intimidate so obviously? It could be a quirk of his personality, lording his authority. Regardless, he certainly wanted to set the tone of the conversation. I doubt Boccus would ever try this with someone like Silco.
Fine, I'll play ball then.
I didn't let the discomfort show on my face, instead lifting my chin.
"What's with all the glass?" I asked him casually.
"Ah, reusing the glass from bottles saves us expenses. We have more money, and things look impressive. Good idea, no?" Boccus responded back with the same tone.
Jinx sighed before snapping out her pistol in a heartbeat. She kept it steady, trailed on Boccus' forehead. "Okay…enough of the staring contest," Jinx's eyes darkened to a glare.
"…My apologies, little miss," Boccus finally let go, chuckling all the while. The club owner extended his hand to her carefully in an open offer. Jinx scoffed but holstered her gun. Boccus took the hint, leaning back.
"Whaddaya want with us?" Jinx bit out, crossing her arms.
"I invited you to ask a very important question." Boccus stroked his bird with a finger. "….Would you like drinks?"
This man is irritating.
I was considering just taking the loud exit, but Silco always preached patience….
Boccus raised his hands at our reaction. "No, truly. I have no ill intentions for you in this club. Silco is not a man to cross without being prepared. It's known that he guards his heir closely." He gave Jinx a grin, revealing that a pre-molar tooth was capped in gold. "And that he picked up a stray."
I didn't like the way he worded that.
My smile turned down. "And that's all this is? An introduction?"
"I solemnly swear it," Bouccus said, placing a hand to his chest. It was at that moment that the lights changed color.
I flinched slightly as the blue light turned off. A heavy clang came from the ceiling before the club was relit a seductive pink. There were a few whoops from the ground floor.
What is this?
The light wasn't as bright as before. In fact, the color was hurting my eyes. The visibility was low, like everything was covered under drying blood. It made the glass walls seem invisible.
"Are you ready for a shower!" the DJ called. The crowd roared in response. A new record was placed on the DJ's mixing table. "I said: are you READY FOR A SHOWER?"
The vibe changed instantly.
Amidst the screams of the crowd, liquid began to fall from the ceiling.
Sprinklers, I realized instantly what the bumps were, the celling is covered in sprinklers.
Even under the pink tint, I could tell the liquid had a purple tint. It shown ever so slightly under the light. The purple rain fell into the crowd in a light drizzle, soaking their clothes. Some made to leave, clearly not expecting this, but others relished in the rain.
People danced, swinging their hair and slinging the rain around. It drained neatly into the numerous rivets in the floor.
Is that Shimmer!? I thought in panic, my eyes widening in horror. No, calm down. There's no physical changes, no glowing veins. It's not pure Shimmer.
But people were drinking it. They threw back their heads and opened wide. Lips were licked. A finger was sucked. If that was the case, then…
"Shimmerwine," I acknowledged, "you're using gallons of Shimmerwine."
The sheer gluttony of the act left me impressed. Only a small amount of Shimmer was needed to make the wine. I knew we were good on supply, but I didn't know we were this good.
How often did they do this?
The wine fell in thin droplets. Clothes clung to the skin tightly. I could make out two women enjoying the wine, sucking and licking at each other's necks. One clearly wasn't wearing a bra. They rubbed at each other's body, smearing the wine onto their skin. The exploration ended in a kiss, the two of them grabbing the other and holding each other close as they swirled their tongues.
I moved Jinx off of my lap, ignoring her confused frown. Boccus required my full attention. I couldn't afford to give him anything less.
I leaned forward, steepling my fingers. "Even if it's not water, that's a lot of liquid that could be used elsewhere," I said.
Like the miners working long hours in the caves, for instance. The wine would dehydrate them eventually, to say nothing about the Shimmer. But it still provided calories and sugar. It was still better than nothing.
It irked me, I realized, to see this display of wealth. It reminded me of Piltover. All these resources that could be used to better Zaun, instead hoarded like it was a dragon's. At least everything we did had a purpose. What was the purpose of this? Shock and awe?
"Why even show us—"
"I have a different question: are there Whumps in my vents?"
I froze.
I couldn't help it. I was in the middle of my sentence, I wasn't expecting it. That was enough of a tell, but I quickly brought myself back to composure. Jinx was ready to spring up in a flash, I knew she was. I could rely on her.
To begin with, I didn't name them 'Whumps.' It came from the few rumors that complained about racoons scavenging from the trash. It was a common term, and one I was familiar with, so it stuck when I met them properly. For him to call them by that name, even if he wasn't an enemy, I had to assume he knew everything Mack leaked, maybe more.
"Even if they are, does it really matter?" I asked.
Boccus shook his head. "No, I suppose not." He gestured our way. "I have a feeling we all have many questions for each other. So how about this, you ask one, then I do. Back and forth until we're satisfied?"
The vulture eyed me. Its gold, alongside its master's, shined under the pink light.
"Fine, we'll take it."
At least this way, there would be an order to the conversation.
"Then you may begin," he offered.
Jinx raised her hand. "Yeah, I got a question," Jinx said before I could speak up, "What's up with the bird?"
Boccus furrowed his brow. "Really…that is what you ask? Not the Shimmer?"
I stifled a smile.
The mention of the Whumps caught me off guard, but I should have expected it, given where we were.
I can't get too stuck in my head.
In a past life, I had heard of what the mob did to children of important bosses. There was every possibility that this man wanted to send us back to Silco all chopped up and sizzled in acid. I wasn't going to let that happen.
It wouldn't be ideal if the other patrons got caught in the crossfire, but if I had to choose between Jinx and a crowd of random people, I would choose her every time. We could do it. Guns were rare underground. The only ones I had seen were pistols or the stolen rifles from Enforcers. I doubted every bouncer here was carrying.
Boccus scoffed, dragging his fingers through the vulture's feathers. "This prize is Illyana. Native to Demacia. She is beautiful, no? I have several animals. Would you care to meet Bronco? He is quite big for an alligator."
"…No thanks."
"Now then, I have a question for you," Boccus said, clapping his hands together. "Jinx…is it true that your previous caretaker was Vander himself?"
Jinx twitched at the name but stayed silent.
Careful, I warned, rapidly losing my patience.
"If I understand my information correctly, Silco isn't even your second father," Boccus shook his head, snickering. "Really, you're quite easy when it come to picking out new daddies, girl."
Heat flushed through my body as I glared at him. I had an immediate thought to grab his head and slam it into the glass table that sat between us repeatedly. I would keep going until his filthy head popped like the rotten egg it was.
But he was bigger than me, it would be stupid.
I had decided: responsible or not, I would gut this man like a fish.
Jinx scrunched up her face, glancing away. "Yeah…used to be."
He wants a reaction out of us.
"My turn then. Did you bring us here just to needle at us," I said, thoroughly unimpressed at this point.
"Honestly, yes," Boccus fully admitted with no shame, grabbing the inside of his coat with both hands.. "I want to take your measure. On that note, what do you think of the surroundings outside. You have seen it, yes?"
"Not too impressive," Jinx murmured, keeping her head turned to the dance floor.
"It isn't, is it? Believe it or not, it used to be much worse. I was born in this neighborhood," Boccus said. "Where once there was trash up to your chin, now, you can walk with the streets free and clean. We are reclaiming the area."
"Then where are the residents? Those are a lot of empty houses," I said.
Boccus shook his head. "You said before that the Shimmerwine can be used in better ways? I disagree. My friend, nothing in life can be done without money." He pointed out to the crowd. "The residents? They're working. We need wealth to secure ourselves. They will continue to work until we can all live comfortably. One day, this neighborhood will be better off than it was, but we're running out of time."
Out of time? I didn't have the chance to think about it before he continued.
"Until we have sufficient resources, the work will continue. We are not prepared to act yet."
You can act now! I wanted to scream at him. It gnawed at me to see this misuse. For him to not understand. But then I realized…
Isn't this like what Ekko was saying to me?
I paused, thinking rapidly, like a logic loop desperately fulfilling itself.
Was Ekko right?
Like clothes pulled apart, revealing the thread desperately holding together.
Was I…wrong?
Like the dying gasp of a squealing pig with a broken neck.
But then I realized…
My eyes burned with fire. No. If anything, this proves me right!
There was a difference in these situations. There was. Ekko was arguing for actions that would ultimately lead to no change. The resources to act didn't exist those two years ago. With Boccus, they did exist now. In fact, we were the ones to provide those resources.
All that Shimmerwine? Even if we didn't individually brew every single gallon, it came from us, from my Whumps. We were the ones who introduced Shimmer. Things could always be better, but we acted with a purpose.
This man claimed to want to better his community? Fine, put on an image of power, by all means. But he flaunted his wannabe wealth. Boccus openly admitted to importing animals. Or at least, deliberately seeking them out at the markets. That took considerable capital.
Boccus wasn't a revolutionary, he was a tyrant stealing his people's freedom.
I was nothing like him.
"…Vi?" Jinx said, poking at my shoulder.
I blinked, coming back to focus.
"Surely as the son of a Chem-Baron you can understand? Vander, Silco, they were miners. They made something from nothing. I admire that they crafted a smuggling ring, right under Piltover's nose. It's like chess—are you familiar with the game?"
"I am." It was one of the few games that I recognized back from Earth. It was curious that it existed here, but now wasn't the time to ponder it.
"Then you know that even a pawn can become a queen. That is how we win."
This pretentious piece of shit wants to talk chess metaphors?
I scoffed, "obviously. But you don't win a game without controlling all the pieces on the board. You want to win, stop ignoring what you have in front of you."
"Or just throw the whole board away," Jinx chimed in, perking up a bit. "Can't win if you can't play."
"I've just got one more thing to ask you," I said, straightening out my back, preparing myself. "Did you have anything to do with killing my Whumps."
Boccus chuckled. "My friend…I am trusted to provide secrecy for all the dealings that pass through. It is my role as manager. Who's to say if I was involved with that incident," Boccus said with a coy tone.
"You know, we could just kill you now." I was seriously considering it.
Boccus nodded, sobering up. "You could. I knew there was the possibility of my death when I invited you two up here." He stared me down, unblinkingly. "But what kind of man would I be, if I did not face my enemies head on."
If nothing else, I can give him that, I grumbled internally.
"Is that what we are, enemies?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.
"My friend, that all depends on you," Boccus offered with a nod.
That's all I needed to hear.
I stood up suddenly, grabbing my sister's hand. "Jinx, we're done here."
She looked surprised but followed along as I pulled her out of the glass room.
"My friends, please have a safe trip home!" Boccus called as I slid open the door.
I ignored him as I fast walked down the stairs. The steps were slick with moisture, but the liquid fell through the holes. The leftover Shimmerwine splashed as I stomped down on the ground floor. Not all of it was drained properly. I glanced around the club.
Somehow, the gaze of the bouncers felt heavier than before.

I grabbed my yo-yo with two fingers and flicked it, sending it spinning.
The two of us were walking back to base. We had to report back to Silco. I'm sure he'd be interested to hear about our experience.
We weren't too far from Debauchery And Delights, still in that section of the Sump. The streets were less clean the further we went. It felt more natural here, with the narrow pathways and tight corners. The buildings were still abandoned and crumbled, but there weren't too many of them.
Probably because we're close to the caverns, I thought.
A bit aways, I could see our stone ceiling start to curve down. There were a series of holes that were cut into the rock wall, some clearly natural. I had no idea where they led, but if I had to bet, the town was probably established to mine it out. There were all kinds of those little hideaways underground.
It didn't seem like it was getting much use now, given the area. Even the stone road we walked on was crumbling. It fell away to sand and dirt.
Jinx mumbled something, but I couldn't make it out.
"Hm?" I looked at her.
Oh.
She held her arms close to her, her fingers twitching near her gun. Jinx glanced around as she whispered under her breath. I was happy she trusted me enough to not hide when she was hallucinating. But we weren't yet at a point where she would talk out loud to them as she would if she were alone.
If Jinx did speak aloud, even if other people were around, then it was because she couldn't physically handle it.
Wordlessly, I let the back of my hand touch her own, giving an offer of support if she wanted it.
Jinx interlaced her fingers with my own.
We walked in silence for a bit. Anything could set her off, but I felt like she was getting better.
Mentioning Vander certainly didn't help, I complained. Pompous prick, walking around with a fur coat…
It was only a few seconds after that thought that a Whump came rushing down a building. She—and I could tell it was a she because of her size and the softer angles of her face—screeched at us, skidding to a halt at our feet. She touched her pointer fingers together before pulling apart. Then, she chopped down her paws sharply.
It was the PSL for enemy. The first sign I had recently taught them. I wanted to create our own signs, but for now, it would do to have something recognizable.
Immediately, I untangled my hand from Jinx and placed it near my pistol. "How many. Where are they coming from?" I demanded.
The Whump twirled her finger in the air, motioning to the sparse alleys. She held up a palm and a finger before she shook her hands in a so-so manner.
"So, maybe six coming from all around?"
A nod of her furry head.
Then we can't just run away. Is this Boccus making a move?
"Stay hidden, only move in if we need it. Roger?"
She gave a salute and ran off. I turned to Jinx who was already primed to shoot, glaring ahead. I palmed my pistol, pulling it out and handing it to her handle first. "You're a much better shot than me. You should have a backup. I'll cover you."
And she would have to be careful with her bombs. The street was so narrow, if she wasn't conservative with them, she could hit one of us.
Jinx smirked at me. "Backup? I've got two hands you know." She seized it with her right hand and aimed forward, holding a pistol in each.
She would do more damage with it than I would. It was one of the reasons I decided on the fighting style that I did. Jinx was a hell of shot, and she was focused on long-range. If we were to fight tougher, than we had to complement each other.
That meant I was determined to fight in close-range.
If I couldn't even handle the few street thugs that got past her? Then I wasn't cut out for this lifestyle.
I grabbed the double discs of my yo-yo and twisted until I heard a satisfying click. I let it hang low, and when the string was extended enough, two small saw blades shot out from the discs. I hesitated for a second, but I wouldn't doubt Jinx. She would never design something to hurt me on purpose. I pulled the yo-yo up—
I took a breath.
—and grabbed it, the sawblades disappearing before it hit my hand. I grinned at the sight.
"String goes out, blades pop out. String goes back in, blades go back in. You're a genius, Jinx," I said, admiring her.
Jinx flipped her braid with a gun. "Who, me? I know. But you can keep praising me."
Like she once said, it was to my exact specifications. The blades spun as the yo-yo did. The only hurdle was that I had to be careful of the motions I used. If the yo-yo bent too much, then it might cut its own string. And I wasn't sure if that would trigger the secondary mechanism. Because of that, I had to use it more like a flail. It would be difficult to keep it in mind during a fight.
But I could do it.
I had to, if I wanted to be a Champion. I could handle it. Jinx did far more than that, and I was to be her equal.
It didn't emulate 1–1 with the fighting style that I was set on. But it was close enough.
I turned around, trusting Jinx with my back. I held the yo-yo tight in my palm; the string already prepared around my middle finger.
It only took a few minutes for them to reach us.
There was a whistling in the air. A high-pitched whine that grew louder, but the tone didn't change. This person obviously wasn't as good at whistling as I was.
There were alleys all around us, from which a bunch of thugs popped out. The group slunk out of the shadows, with a practiced ease. They weren't wearing costumes. Instead, they looked as I would expect of typical Zaunite thugs. They fit right in, with the oil-stained clothes and gold rings.
The one whistling stepped up, resting a metal bat on his shoulders. "Alright kids. Here's how this is gonna go—" It was as far as he got before a bullet ripped through his forehead, sending him falling to his back with wide eyes. The bat jingled, rolling across the uneven stone.
There was a pause as the thugs took that in. "Well?" Jinx huffed with a scowl.
That's when the action started.
"Fuck! Get the girl first!" I heard one of them call.
I took steady breaths, glancing around. Jinx fired off from each hand. She could handle herself, but the road was only so big, and she would need to reload.
I focused on my side, watching as a man came running my way. I waited until he was close enough before flinging my weapon, arcing it diagonally.
He didn't expect it. He stumbled to his knees, clutching at his throat. Blood gushed from between his fingers as he collapsed. The blades weren't quite what I wanted. They didn't finely cut.
Instead, they ripped through flesh like butter going through a woodchipper.
I spun the yo-yo in fast circles, growing more confident and stepping up to another thug.
The thug jumped to side as I swiped wide. I grabbed the string with my free hand, yanking it back hard. He hissed as the blades cut into his shoulder. I pulled it back to my hand, the blades retracting as the yo-yo neared my skin. The force of it snapping back stung my palm
I swung up, fast enough that he couldn't dodge as it lodged itself into his skull. I retracked my yo-yo.
Ugh. The sticky blood was slick in my hand.
The next one tried to block with his arms.
"AHHH!" But instead, he screamed as the skin fell away like grated cheese.
I sent the yo-yo around me like a lasso. I grabbed it with my non-throw hand and swung as hard as I could. The man was thrown to the ground as the blades pierced his bottom jaw, such was the force.
It took a few careful yanks before the yo-yo was back in my hand.
"We good?" I turned back to see three dead bodies in front of Jinx, matching my own.
Jinx was staring down at it before brightening at my voice. "Uh-huh!" She graced me with a cheeky smile.
There was screeching above us. We jerked our heads up to see a Whump standing on top of a building. She made a flat 'O' with her paws and repeatedly tapped them together.
More.
She was proven right by the stomping coming our way.
A few more rushed from the alleys. I took care of the one closest to me with a few causal swipes. I was getting more used to the feel of it.
"Vi! I need a sec!" Jinx called. I jerked around, there were more rushing her way. She holstered one gun and held another under an armpit. I ran forward as she pulled out a Mouser bomb and started shaking it.
I don't need to kill them, just make room.
I rolled the yo-yo in wide arcs, nicking anyone who came close. I used both of my hands to control its movements. One tried to go around me, which I immediately punished by slicing out his Achilles heel.
"Just fucking kill them already!" He screamed grabbing his foot.
"Vi, jump back!" I trusted her as soon as I heard. I pushed off the ground, springing back as far as I could. I landed beside Jinx, who with a twist and a throw, sent Mouser flying through the air. It exploded before it hit the ground, giving off a sharp noise of twisting metal. Nails and other bits of metal shot out, piercing the thugs straight through.
Those that weren't killed, were moaning in pain on the ground.
I glanced behind Jinx as I stood up. A man from my side was pulling out a gun.
"Jinx!" I tried to alert her.
She twisted around right as the gun was pointed her way.
My heart leapt to my throat.
The shot went wide as a Whump jumped onto his arm. The Dead-Man-walking scrambled as the racoon bit at his fingers. Another jumped onto his face, hissing and scratching his eyes all the while.
The Whump on the arms was slung off, alongside the gun and a detached thumb. The man's screams were muffled as he pulled the face-Whump off and threw him to the street. A bullet instantly followed as soon as the Whump was clear.
Jinx whistled as the man folded over. "Grab me the gun!"
A third racoon came running out as more goons came pouring from the alleys. I rushed forward as my Whump grabbed it and held it close with two paws. He hopped around the corpses with frantic energy, his eyes wide with fright. His oversized tongue was sticking out as he ran for dear life.
"Are those racoons! What the fuck!?" One thug exclaimed.
"These are the Whumps, you idiot! Just brain them!"
The panting racoon jumped over one thug that dived for him. A few shots took out some goons on our side before Jinx was forced to turn her attention back around.
Why are there so many of them?!
Someone really wanted us dead.
I sent my yo-yo out as I rushed to the gun-Whump, trying to give him space. He gave a short toss with his thin arms, sending the pistol flying my way. Right after, the Whump yelped as he was kicked to the side.
I caught the gun in my free hand. I moved to help him before a bunch of other racoons did it for me, appearing from nowhere and attacking the man.
I took my chance to turn to Jinx. She tossed away the first gun, presumably because it was empty, and yanked out a Chomper grenade. Jinx pulled the pin with her teeth and threw it forward.
I waited for the explosion to ring before I called, "Jinx!" I threw the weapon, sending it spinning through the air. She snatched it and instantly went back to it, firing shots off every half-second.
On my side, the Whumps were going at it. Any pretense of stealth was out the window as they jumped the thugs. They flooded out from the shadows and crannies, making my job easier.
A gangster sprinted at me with a crowbar. I flung my yo-yo as he swung at me. The string got wrapped around the tool as he yanked it back, tying the yo-yo to it.
Shit!
I pulled at it hard, tilting the crowbar down and cutting the back of his hands. He exclaimed as he dropped it. I didn't let the chance pass me—I let go of the yo-yo. I ran forward, ducking down for a second to grab some sand, and flung it into his eyes.
Right as it hit him, I stomped a foot forward and crashed my fist into his throat. I didn't let up as he gurgled, I grabbed his hair with both hands and pulled down, rocking my knee into his face. Letting go, he fell face first like he was drunk.
I could feel a tooth stuck in my leg.
My yo-yo was still wrapped around the crowbar. I whistled loud over the noise before yelling, "Cover me!"
The Whumps focused on the gangsters closest to me, literally jumping from one body to another. They worked together, focusing on sensitive areas like the ears, mouth, and crotch. Some groups tripped opponents and piled onto them once they fell.
Not a single one of them reached me.
I quickly undid the string and rewrapped it around my finger. My breath was coming out in shaky pants, this was going on for longer than I thought it would. I started to shiver ever so slightly.
One thug came my way. He was quickly dealt with by a wild swing. My eyes widened as the arc of my swing came back to me.
Fuck! Too much force!
I jerked to my side, narrowly missing the sawblades that soared for my head. I blinked, glancing down with haste as my string didn't slacken. I rolled around, seeing the yo-yo stuck in some guy's chest. I wrenched it out and caught it, jumping up to slam the yo-yo into his teeth.
He fell back and I was on him immediately. The thug tried to cover his face, but I easily pushed it away. With a fist and a yo-yo in one hand, I jackhammered my fists into him with all the strength I had. My breath was coming out raspy, almost a growl, as I sneered down at him. I didn't let up until I knew for sure he wouldn't get up.
After a while I leaned back, swallowing down a pant as I stared down at what remined me of meatloaf.
There was silence.
I pushed myself up, my fingers shaking and covered with a warm red. My body felt sore, my middle finger in particular from being tugged on so much. Looking around, our enemies were either dead or too hurt to get up. Some of my furry minions were limping or carrying wounds, but none looked dead.
Good.
I let out a breath.
I rotated to Jinx. My sister stood strong, a sheen of sweat dripping down her forehead. Her eyes were large, in that all-encompassing way that they sometimes were, staring down at the pile of corpses.
Slowly, she turned her eyes to me.
I smiled a tired smile. "Good job, Jinx. I'm proud of you."
And Jinx smiled back brilliantly, her eyes crinkling.
"I'm proud of you guys too!" I said, gazing at the Whumps. "Thank you…for keeping my sister and I safe."
The Whumps all looked at each other. The gun-Whump, the one who was kicked, had a nasty welt on the side of his face. He hesitated for a second before he celebrated, pumping up his arms to the heavens and screeching. More shouts of victory followed from the clump of Whumps.
I huddled over to a giggling Jinx, shaking my head all the way. Crazy bastards.
But they were my crazy bastards.
It was as I was about to address Jinx that another screech stopped me in my tracks. One that came from above me.
It had a far more desperate tone than the others.
The cheers died as everyone looked up. The female Whump from before—and she really deserved a name after all of this nonsense—hopped up-and-down, pointing to the side.
There's no way…I thought desperately.
There was another racoon squatted beside her, clearly the one that conveyed the information.
She stuck her arms out and mimed like she was steering a wheel.
"You have got to be shitting me…" I murmured, feeling a bit delirious.
If this is Boccus, how the hell can he afford an automobile!? What are these resources!
"…Vi? You hear that?" sure enough, I could recognize the familiar sound of rolling wheels coming our way.
I smoothed out my hair, taking a deep breath. We needed to buy some time. An idea occurred to me.
"….Fuck. Jinx, got any spare bombs?"
"Few left!"
She tossed me two Chompers and I whistled, causing my soldiers to stand at attention. "One of you, perch up somewhere and throw this when I say!" I ordered. I handed one off to the racoon that bounced up to me. I pointed two fingers out. "You guys! Report back to base. Tell them what's going on and get reinforcements, pronto!" I reached out the grenade to the second group.
They gave me salutes before flashing off to fulfill their duty.
I heard Jinx take a shaky breath. I stepped up to her, brushing her shoulder against mine. "Cavernberry ice-cream after this?"
"All the ice-cream," Jinx sighed, briefly resting her head on me.
I didn't dare say something stupid like, 'well it can't be worse.' I knew from experience that, yes, it could get worse.
It could always be worse.
She straightened up as the sound of crunching rocks neared us. The automobile that bounded down the street was nowhere near as advanced as Silco's. It was more of a carriage than a proper car.
Green fluid was pumped into the car through clear pipes. The carriage was a stout thing, tilting precariously and bobbing as it rolled down the broken road.
I waited for it to get close enough, counting every second, as I waited for the exact—
"Now!" I yelled.
—moment.
From a rooftop, the grenade was lobbed. It fell to the front of the carriage before it exploded, sending what was left of the automobile hurling to the side. It rolled before it stopped in a broken heap. The old buildings shook out some dust at the force of the explosion.
I waited a second, watching the thrown carriage carefully. The green spilt from cracked pipes.
A claw ripped its way out of the carriage.
It reached high into the sky like it was eager to grasp its next prey. It was a boney hand ending with crooked talons.
It also had purple veins.
"Oh shit." My heart dropped. "We need to go—Jinx let's go!" I snatched her hand and ran in the opposite direction.
"Guys get out of here! Follow if you can, but don't die!" I shouted at my Whumps, causing them to disperse in every direction.
I knew for a fact that the Shimmer that caused the greatest enhancements was being kept close to our chest. The best product was tightly controlled by us. We needed control in the Undercity, not anarchy.
But still…even if this was a lesser transformation, it was still not to be fucked with.
I risked a glance back. There were two Shimmer-Freaks ripping themselves out of the carriage. One got free first. He flopped down to the stone before jerking up. His body was so frail I could see the outline of his ribs. The freak rushed up and started to sprint at me with his claws splayed out.
"Jinx, can you—" I paused, glancing to her. It felt like she was dragging her feet. Her head was turned to the monster, staring wide-eyed at it. Tears were building in her eyes. It wasn't in fear, but in…
She had only mentioned it to me once. But she said she had seen the effects of Shimmer before.
At the warehouse, shit!
I yanked her towards me. She was light enough I barely slowed in my run, picking her up and throwing her over my shoulder in a fireman carry.
"Jinx, I need you with me!" I called.
I banked a hard right as I heard the twin shrieks from behind me. They were faster than me, I couldn't rely on losing them in the sprawl of buildings. They could probably climb better than me like this.
And I can't risk more showing up, I thought in vile anger.
I ran as fast as I could to the caverns. It was the only choice I could think of at the moment. We could take some jumped-up fools, even a crowd of them. Monsters were another story.
My feet pounded against the rocks. I stumbled slightly as the ground became more uneven.
I wheezed out, sweat pouring down me. I was already exhausted. And carrying Jinx, even as small as she was, didn't make it any easier. There was a soreness in my back, like I stretched it too far.
The wind felt like it was cutting into my damaged fists.
The moaned warbles came closer as I pumped my legs. We were getting close to the stone wall. The buildings becoming less defined and the street rockier. I was aiming for a narrow passageway with a tall ceiling. It got tighter and lower as it went in.
"Jinx, I could use your help!" I cried. I didn't want to risk trying to grab her gun. It could slow me down, and her braid was slapping across my face.
I could hear the rocks being smashed behind me in rapid footsteps.
We pushed into the passageway. I turned my body to the side to squeeze faster into the space.
"Jinx, I can't do this without you! I need you!"
Jinx jolted up. She grabbed a grenade from her side pouch. I watched, panic flooding my body, as it flew high into the air. At the arc's apex, Jinx pulled out her pistol in a smooth motion.
And even with her awkward position.
Even as she bounced on my shoulders.
Even as she aimed at a moving target.
Even as she snapped back to reality.
She hit it dead on.
The explosion rocked the passageway, the noise stabbing into my ears. The stone walls moved like there was an earthquake. I pulled Jinx down and close as I bounced between the walls, it scraped at my face. I could see rocks fall from the impact, coming down in a landslide. They started to pile up at the entrance. One Shimmer-Freak leapt at us, frantically trying to make it in time. There was a large crack before a large portion of rock fell, crushing the beast in a purple splat.
The collision pushed Jinx and I back, rolling us down a hill. We tumbled for a few seconds before I landed rough on my back.
I groaned, dirt sticking to my slick hands. I coughed from the dust in the air, and my ears were ringing.
I'm so done with today…
"Vi!" Jinx screamed, making me wince. I opened my eyes. I could barely make out her face, glancing up the hill revealed that the entrance was sealed shut with rock.
"I'm sorry, V-Vi. I-I just saw it and I started hearing—" Jinx stammered, grabbing at my shirt. Tears were falling as she whimpered.
"Shh," I cupped my dirty hands on her cheeks. "You did good…little sister."
Jinx put her hands on my own cheeks. "I…I messed everything up. Like always."
I scoffed lightly, pulling her down until our foreheads were touching. "You kidding? You saved the day. You did everything just as you needed to."
"…But you got hurt," she bawled.
"And you kept it from getting worse. That's what we do for each other, right?"
"Right," Jinx whispered, looking into my eyes.
Jinx started to catch her breath, sniffling slightly as she calmed down. The cave was cold, but I could feel her warmth pressing against me.
I let the moment linger for a moment before I spoke up again. "We should get going. That'll hold them for a bit, but who knows if it'll stay." I sat up with Jinx in my arms. "We should see where this tunnel leads, maybe we can get out before Dad finds us."
God, I am not looking forward to that conversation.
To think the day started with a visit to Granny's.
I blinked, wait a minute, something popping into my mind.
"Hey…you still got those cookies bunched up?" I asked.
"Oh!" Jinx rifled through her side pouch. She pulled out a very crumpled brown bag, opening it up for me. I reached in, stealing a small crumb of a cookie and tossing it into my mouth.
It melted in my mouth. The sweet chem-pressed sugar gave way to a tang of fruity goodness.
I hummed.
"Y'know, maybe cavernberry cookies aren't so bad here and there."

Chapter 15: Fruit (Show Me the Money)

If you want a better picture of what Boccus looks like, you can check this:

I originally had a different look planned for him. I was actually going to tie a side character to him and introduce some lore. But then I saw this guy and his coat, and I was like, "wait, I can cook something up with this."
You know, the first idea I had for Vivek's minions, as in before I made a plan and posted the first chapter and this was just an idea, was the Chireans. This was back before season 2 where I wasn't sure if Scar was a Vastayan or if Chireans were now a full-fledged race. They were just little bat goblins in the cards, so it was between them and the Whumps. Boy am I glad I went with what I did. I love the Whumps. And they fit so perfectly with Vivek's design.
On that note, I always like getting into how Vivek thinks. I probably said it before, but I want his crazy to be internal to play off of Jinx's external. He has a tendency to get real poetic when loses his marbles. I'm trying to think really hard about how I word certain things.
As always, let me know your thoughts. Oh, and about the fight scene too. There haven't been too many of those, but I want to get better at them. I want to try and make them important for the character development when I can. Not just to push events along.
Thank you for reading!

Echoes of the Eye

This story's got me watching unironic fan cams of a Cruella de Vil genderbend.

What if I made a Teen Titans story and the love interest was Jinx haha. Wouldn't that be funny haha.

No but seriously, I don't want to be making a full story that'll steal my attention away from this. I'm considering maybe like a snippet box or something. If I do write a fic after I'm done with this, I think a superhero setting would fit. I would want to do something different. Like a protagonist with really strong morals that doesn't believe the ends justify the means. It would be too samey if I did something like write about a child/grandchild of Magneto.

Someone should write that. That sounds fun.

"It won't be long before the Hexgates are running."

Silco lounged on the couch, his fingers tapping lazily on the armrest.

"They're already wanting me to draft up a schedule for the patrols. The council's confident that everything will go as planned."

"I would be interested in hearing about this schedule," Silco said. He didn't slouch, but his posture was relaxed. It didn't dimmish him image. He was like a leopard ready to leap.

"Oh, I'm sure you would," Marcus bit out, glaring from the stool he sat on. Marcus was dressed less conservatively than he normally would be, the Enforcer uniform missing for once. It wouldn't do for the sheriff of Piltover to be seen taking regular drips to the world down-under. With the twins stood behind him, Marcus almost fit right in with the other Zaunites.

Silco stared back at him unimpressed.

Marcus sighed, looking to the side. "I'll…see what I can do. But it's going to be some time before It's ironed out. The security will be rigorous."

Marcus looked wearier these days. A thin moustache hid some new wrinkles. He had bags under his eyes, from the sleepless nights.

He's become a valuable piece, Silco noted to himself. Albeit not one that isn't replaceable.

It was a careful game, interacting with Marcus. Every man had his limit. But so far, both ends of the bargain were being kept. Enforcers withdrew from the Undercity, and Piltover had no reason to turn its gaze back on her.

It only helped that they were so occupied with the Hexgates.

And as a single father, Marucs surely appreciated every extra coin that he could get his hand on.

The conversation continued for a little longer. The minutia of deals and movements clarified. At this point, Marcus had more to lose than Silco did. He was drawn too deep into the web. The more he struggled, the closer he came to being devoured.

"The twins will see you out," Silco said as Marcus stood. He waited until Marcus was at the door to continue. "Oh, and Marcus? My condolences for your loss."

Marcus stopped hallway to the exit, the door held out for him. His fists clenched tight as he glared behind his shoulder.

"I know what it's like…to raise a child alone," Silco said truthfully, a pang filling his chest as it always did when he thought of her.

Marcus deflated, letting out a breath. "…Yeah." It was all he said before he marched out of the office.

Silco watched as the twins escorted him out, the door closing behind them as the room was once again thrown into silence.

As close as I can get to, at least.

Silco sighed, resting his head on the back of the couch. He allowed himself to relax; to feel the pain that seared into his face. It was a warm, almost wet, heat that ate at his skin. It slowly gobbled all that it could. He stared up at the ornaments that hung from the ceiling. A collection of knick-knacks that Jinx had set up to lighten the mood.

"Hexgates…" Silco scoffed. "Can you believe it, brother? Half-way across the continent with but a snap. The two of us could have done so much with it…"

Silco allowed himself to reminisce. To remember Vander, Felica, and Vienna.

He was the only one left now.

All that remained of the others were echoes. Violet was presumably dead, Jinx was under his wing, and Vivek…

"He has her smile."

But not the eyes. The eyes were his own, from before the left was stolen from him. The eyes, but not the face. Every time his son would smile at him…it was like seeing that her all over again. His eyes would crinkle, almost half close, as he smiled with his entire face.

Vivek was losing the fat in his cheeks, leaving behind his childhood as he grew into a man. He had his own responsibilities now.

"I didn't expect to take her in."

Silco was prepared to kill her. If anything, keeping her around would only complicate things. But when he saw her cling to him so vulnerably...it was like seeing an echo of himself, of Felica, of Vivek.

Silco couldn't deny that he grew fond of her. It was hard not too, when she would look at him with such excitement. And when his son was so earnest about claiming her as a sister. Jinx would draw pictures of them all as a family. It warmed the part of him that he so carefully restrained.

It was small acts like that, that tore down his walls. That allowed him to accept her as family in truth. It went unsaid, but it was understood at this point that she was his daughter.

Not Vander's, not anymore.

He never found Vander. No matter how much he searched. Again and again, he would look. Triple, quadruple times he would check for any signs of his survival, for any hint of a trail.

"The city still mourns you."

Vander's influence wasn't so easily forgotten. Vander was the one who pulled the community together, who led from the front. Silco had even sponsored the memorial statue of him in the Promenade. He deserved at least that much.

When the news of the attack on the Whump routes reached Silco, he couldn't help but wonder…

Was it you?

But of course, the actions didn't fit Vander's characteristics. Every act, every bit of defiance, and even the few that tried to topple Silco from his throne. They all itched at the tightly controlled paranoia that scratched at Silco's skull.

"Are you still out there….Vander?"

Stories repeat like a cycle.

It was a long-held belief he had. One that continued to be proven true the longer he lived.

They would echo out, like a miner yelling in a cave, as the sound stretched and warped ever so slightly.

Jinx, Vivek, they were like echoes. It was only fitting that they met each other.

"Just as we always wanted…our children, growing up together," Silco drawled, covering his left eye with a hand, a bittersweet feeling welling up within him.

His hand dropped as the door opened, interrupting his thoughts. Sevika walked through. The door shut behind her, once again dampening the noise of The Last Drop.

"Collections are done," she said, walking up to him.

"Faster than usual," Silco noted.

Sevika snorted. "People get the picture at this point. Not too many try to resist. Your name's known in the Undercity."

"Good," Silco nodded, "from here, we should prepare to—" he stopped at the sound of the door handle jingling, Sevika tensing at his side. Silco frowned as the handle moved back-and-forth. With a jerk, the door was opened halfway, revealing a furry body hanging from the handle. A second Whump rushed in as soon as it could.

It skidded to a halt in front of him. It panted as it wobbled to two legs, its fat tongue lolling out. The racoon waved its arms as it tried to rapidly report to him. It squeaked in its nonsense language of chirps and hisses.

"Catch your breath," Silco cautioned. The Whumps were Vivek's project, and even beyond that, they weren't the average worker. They couldn't be treated like everyone else.

The Whump swallowed before making a sign with its paws.

Enemy.

It was at this point that the first Whump stumbled in, pulling out something from a back pouch and holding it out. One of Jinx's trinkets.

Silco's blood turned to ice, his right eye widening as much as the scarred one. Instantly, he understood the message that was conveyed.

They were attacked.

"Where!?" he demanded, jumping up from the couch and looming over the rodent.

I shouldn't have let them go alone…Silco thought, his mind starting to race.

After the successful negotiations with Smeech, and with the assurance of the Whumps, he had let them visit the club. He could only protect them so much. They had to be ready to stand on their own.

"Were they hurt?" Silco questioned quickly, his eye set in a glare. The Whump tilted its head in thought before shaking its head.

Silco huffed, the pounding in his chest slowing slightly. I have to trust that I've prepared them adequately.

"Are they safe?"

Silco's eye darkened at the quick shake no. The Whump made the sign for 'more,' and he could connect the pieces.

"Are they retreating?"

A nod.

Good.

More information could be discussed later. For now, it was clear that Vivek and Jinx were in danger, that he had to find them fast.

And that there will be a reckoning, Silco promised to himself. He narrowed his eye at the Whumps. "You two, get back to the local ring. Find Cornellius and assemble a search party—then take a break."

The two of them clearly pushed themselves to get here. They were left with shaking bodies, panting with open mouths as they did their all to not collapse. That was to be acknowledged and rewarded. The Whumps continued to be an investment that paid dividends.

They gave haphazard salutes before bounding off. Silco whirled on Sevika as they left. "Gather a group together and search around Debauchery and Delights. Don't attack unless provoked but look for them regardless of any territory lines. Now go!"

Sevika, to her credit, didn't respond, simply rushing out as soon as Silco was done with his order.

He let out a slow breath, smoothing out his hair as he burned a hole through the ground. Silco was willing to do many reprehensible things for the revolution. If need be, he would sacrifice men, women, and children in droves, inflict any cruelty. All to obtain the respect that was owed. Any shred of hesitance he had left died in the river. No line was too far.

But not his child—his children.

That was one regret that he couldn't allow himself to have.

Dark, cold, damp.

Those were the first descriptors that came to my mind as we explored the caves. Thankfully, the cave had widened a bit the further we went down, but it didn't make our surroundings any less precarious. The jagged rock spiraled around us, like we were in some kind of golem's mouth. The visibility was low. I made sure to hold Jinx's hand tight, ignoring the soreness of my bruised knuckles.

The side of my face was still raw from where it scraped against the walls—to say nothing else about my other hurts—I didn't want her to slip and cut herself.

My nose twitched at the dust in the air. A second later, I sneezed, the noise echoing out. "Bet this place hasn't been used in a bit," I said with a sniff.

There were wires and bulbs strung up around the cave. No power went to the leftover machinery. A sheet of dust covered it, the cave claiming whatever was abandoned here. Jinx was silent by my side, holding a lit lantern. It wasn't too long stumbling around before we found one. We had some matches for emergencies, but nothing like a flashlight.

I didn't expect to go spelunking today.

The lantern's glass lid was left open as she held it out. The fire was another layer of security for us. If the light went out randomly, we knew to immediately run the other way. The two of us were both raised by miners, her thrice over. We knew to beware the dreaded Dead Air.

It wouldn't be much protection, but it was better than nothing. In places like this where there was little airflow, there was the possibility of low oxygen. The carbon in the air would overpower it. Horror stories were beaten into my skull about miners who breathed in pure carbon dioxide without notice.

By the time you realized what was happening, it would be too late. You would suffocate, lungs filled with gases—but not oxygen.

This being an old mine made me doubly worried. That meant there were metals in here. The metal would oxidize over time, increasing the chance of Dead Air.

Thankfully, there were a lot of tunnels around. It could allow fresh air to come in and for the Co2 to spread. I was hoping it lowered our chances of instantly dying.

"They must not've finished mapping this whole place out," I said, my eyes narrowed with the dim light. "There's less equipment now, no lights lining the walls. It was probably too big for them to explore."

Jinx hummed, not responding. She had been quiet ever since we began our trek.

I would give her time to work through her thoughts.

The mine probably cut right in to an established cave system. We made our way through one of the connected tunnels as my own thoughts started to drift.

What was up with that attack?

If this was Boccus, would he really waste such resources like that on us? Low level Shimmer enchantments were one thing, that I knew was on the market, feeling powerful was one of its draws. But to waste an entire carriage? Those were new and not exactly something to scoff at price wise.

But then again, maybe I'm looking at this the wrong way.

Jinx and I were valuable. We were the only chinks in Silco's armor. The only thing that could hurt him. But wouldn't killing us only encourage Silco to attack? It would at least draw him into a gang war.

There was something I was still missing with this. Boccus said he wouldn't act unless he was prepared, so it could be that. Or…

Maybe he's…desperate?

Or a cocky idiot in over his head. He was the kind of guy to brag about his exotic pets. It didn't really paint the most flattering picture of him.

The length of these tunnels gave me a lot of time to consider such things.

I wasn't sure how long we hiked. It could have been an hour, maybe more, maybe less. Time was hard to track with no lights. Even with much of Zaun being underground, there was still an understanding of the flow of time. We tracked it, either by the numerous clocks that were hung around, or from how the city lights would change in hue.

In a cave like this, time lost its meaning. It was like being stuck in a coffin.

"Wait a second." I stopped, holding my hand out. "You feel that?"

There was the slightest brush against my skin. A cool lick on my fingers.

"A breeze!" Jinx exclaimed. She let go of my hand and rushed ahead. I followed behind as we pushed up an incline. I could taste the dust in the air lessening as we rose. Jinx skidded to a halt at the mouth of our exit.

"Whoa…I've never been down so deep," Jinx said, craning her head all the way up.

Sure enough, the space opened up drastically as we left the cave. We were on a ledge, looking up at the stone that stretched far off to the horizon. It reached high above us, almost a mile long to my eyes. To the left and right I looked, every which way was filled with stone. The uneven rock snaked all around in a labyrinth.

It was an underground ravine.

"We're in the fissures," I said with a bit awe. My eyes were wide as I looked around. "It's like the place was carved through with a giant butcher's knife."

I knew the fissures were large, and that there was a lot of unused space. But I didn't realize just how encompassing the underground was.

For the first time ever, I think I underestimated Zaun.

It would be hard to build here. The ledges didn't allow for much space. We would have to build onto the side of the rock if we wanted anything permanent. That was how a lot of architecture in the city was.

But that's just an idea.

If we ever expanded this far, logilistics would need to be worked out. I'm sure building the Entresol was task in itself. I could only imagine how hard it would be to bring resources this far down.

"It'd be so easy to disappear down here," I murmured. Jinx caught my eye as she skipped off again.

"C'mon, Vi, let's explore some more!"

"Wait, don't—" I was about to tell be careful not to trip, a tumble here could send her hurtling down the ravine, but I paused. She was already running off into the distance.

I'll just have to be there to catch her, I thought, catching up to her in a sprint.

We walked along the narrow pathway for some time longer. A few times, I could almost see the genuine blue sky peeking out. At least, I would have if it wasn't covered up by the smog. Eventually, we found ourselves going through a small alcove. There were tunnels before us that ran through the stone like a beehive. Choosing one of the twisting paths before us randomly, we came to a stop at a large cavern with a hanging drop.

This was another section of the ravine. A deep fissure with enough space to house a building. Although, looking up revealed a stone celling, protecting this place from rain.

Jinx gasped, smacking her face with both hands. "Look at that!"

It was dark and dreary in here, but the lantern gave off just enough light to make out the structure held between the ravines.

A gigantic fan.

The four large blades stretched to each wall of the cavern. It gave the impression of a spider's nest, snug in its hidey hole. Where the blades met each other, there was a wide platform with broken railings. Bits of cord and wire fell from the top of the structure. And the drop below was so deep, I couldn't even see the bottom.

What is this, an airship rotor? It was my first thought, but the obvious manmade structures around us showed otherwise. There was a rickety wooden bridge that hugged the wall, leading down to the fan.

A rotor this large would be hard to get down here. This was built here.

Much more likely, this was a ventilation fan. It was probably used to provide air for the miners that worked the deepest parts of the mines.

"It's perfect!" Jinx gushed, her face lighting up for the first time since entering the caves. She rushed down without a care, jumping over the missing wooden steps.

"Wait, be careful! The blades might not hold your weight!" I said, following along. The steps that were left were surprisingly sturdy.

"They're obviously made to for the maintenance," Jinx called back with a scoff.

"Well, they could've deteriorated!"

It looked like we were the first people here in a long time.

"It's fine~" Jinx jumped onto the blade, kicking up some dust. She turned back with spread arms. "See? Not even a shake."

I watched as Jinx hopped around with a giddy smile.

"We've gotta make this our hideout." She pointed a finger out suddenly. "Oh! And we can put a couch over there!"

One of the blades led to a small dugout in the stone wall. There was enough space for a couch, or something like a bed.

Jinx continued to ramble in excitement. "And the Whumps can hang out down here and send us messages. And I can bring all my tools. And bring a bathtub. And make a bunch of traps. Why don't we just live here!" She jumped at me suddenly, staring up at me with big blue eyes. Her lips puckered slightly.

"Come on…can't we stay here?"

I sighed at the look in her eyes.

Well…we did need more space for her to tinker in.

All things considered, this place was pretty cool for a secret lair.

"Okay…we can make this your new workshop," I said reluctantly.

"Yes!"

"But!" I cut her off. "We still need to find out where we are, first. And we'll probably need to go between here and an apartment close to Dad. He'll be relying on us to be nearby for the organization. And I need to be close to manage the Whump rings. Long as those take priority…then we can stay here."

"You're the best, Vi!" Jinx cheered, tackling me in a hug. I pat her a few times on the back.

I can't resist her.

And she knew it too.

I examined the fan as Jinx jumped around in excitement. She started to spin in circles, sending her braid flying behind her. I allowed it, as she was on the central platform with the guardrails. I blew some dust out of the way.

Jinx flopped to her back, evidently dizzy.

We would need to clean this place pretty good.

Maybe we should add some more rails for safety?

The Whumps would probably like it here too. I could already see them swinging from the cables.

"Not a bad consolation prize for getting attacked, huh, Jinx?"

Silence.

Hm?

I glanced over at her.

Jinx was laid out on her back, staring up past the machinery and into the inky blackness with a blank look on her face. Her previous energy had quickly disappeared.

I watched her for a second before I came to her side. I groaned as I laid down beside her, my body protesting the act of bending down. I didn't say anything, simply gazing up next to her.

Come to think of it, this is the first time we've rested since Boccus.

The metal was cold. If nothing else, it at least felt good against my bruises. Our first project down here would definitely be to get some heaters running. Or maybe some noise. The silence left a ringing in my ears. All I could hear was the far off echoes of crumbling rocks.

"…A gear for your thoughts?" I asked. The metal ring above the platform was like a halo, and the cables threaded around it, like dark vines.

There was a beat of silence before she responded, "Hey…Vivek?"

I startled. She almost never called me by my full name.

"Do you…ever think about death?"

I would say it felt like this was coming out of nowhere, but it really wasn't. Given our encounter, it made sense her mind was on the subject. That meant I couldn't just brush it off. I had to treat the question with all the seriousness necessary. I was the only person she could talk to like this. It was the role I took on. It was my responsibility.

Do I think about death?

"Hmm. Maybe…every so often. Why?"

"What do you think happens after death?"

I had a biased view on this topic. I could hardly just say, 'reincarnation' and be done with it. I wasn't sure how the wheel of life and death worked. My reincarnation could have just been a fluke. I considered this my second life, but this could just be the first time I remembered a previous life. Or, this was something of a special second chance that I was granted for whatever reason. I assumed souls existed given my experiences and what little I knew of this new reality's mechanics. Souls seemed like it would be a tangible thing here. But I didn't know. Ultimately…

"I don't know." I thought back to the moments that brought me here, to my new family. "I think…it's like falling asleep. Whatever happens next, I'm not sure."

It was how I described it to myself, how it felt to me. I entered the final sleep and was cradled by the sea of the Samsara. Groggily, I awoke to a new day and a new chance of fresh air.

"Why do you ask?"

I heard her shrug. "It's just…people always say things like, 'they're in a better place now' or 'at least they're together now.' We killed a lot of people today. Do you think…those people are in a better place than here?"

I opened my mouth. I had an inkling of what she was getting at. I knew of the guilt that haunted her. I had to be very careful with how I worded this.

How would Silco word this?

No. That doesn't matter. She didn't need Silco right now. How should I say it?

"…I won't lie to you, Jinx. I honestly don't know. I'm not sure if…what's next is better than here. But what I do know is this: what we did today, I don't regret it for a single second." I slid my hand until it touched her own. "I hope they're in a better place, but I can't say. But here, in this world? You're here. That means this world is automatically better than whatever may come after."

I rubbed a thumb against her, but I didn't dare to turn to my side before she did. "We made a promise, right? We're blood siblings in every way that matters. I'll do whatever it takes to keep you by my side."

Jinx turned toward me. Her face was scrunched up, already tears were gathering. Sometimes her mood would change at the drop of a coin, but I understood why this conversation was sensitive to her.

This isn't about the people that attacked us.

At least, not entirely. There was something else on her mind that she was jumping to.

I rolled over, putting us face to face. "At this point? I'll never let you go."

Ever so slowly, Jinx buried herself into my chest, wrapping around me tightly. "I-I don't miss her," Jinx muttered, seemingly out of nowhere. "Miss her? Why would I miss her? Miss my sister…." Jinx shook her head violently against me. "She is not my sister."

I was confused for a second before I realized what this was.

She was letting down her walls.

I took it as Jinx trusting me just a little bit more as she worked through whatever she was going through.

"Miss Vi, all she ever did was lie." Jinx jerked up. Her eyes were wide as she started right through me, almost nose to nose as I felt her breath against my own. "You wouldn't lie…right Vi?"

I smiled.

"Of course not," I said, brushing a hand through her hair. "I wouldn't be able to even if I tried."

Jinx relaxed, falling back onto me. I stroked her hair as she twitched every so often.

"Hey, Vivek?"

"Hm?"

"I don't…want you to die either."

"Well…that's why we look out for each other, right? If I go too far and make a mistake, you'll be there to catch me, right? And if you go too far and make a mistake, I'll be there for you too, okay?"

"…Okay," Jinx said quietly.

"After all…isn't that what siblings are for?"

After some time, Jinx and I went back to the alcove filled with tunnels. We were determined to find a way out.

I stepped out of the passageway first, raising a hand to my eyes. The bright lights were harsh after the however long we spent in near darkness. I blinked the spots out of my eyes.

It was warmer here, filled with buildings of wood and metal. The neon glowed in different colors. The architecture was packed tight together, hidden by a green smog in the air. And most importantly, there was that distinct smell that pricked at my nose; the smell of trash and chemicals, and the oil that stuck to the walls.

We were finally back to the Undercity proper.

No place like home.

The two of us walked through the streets. There were only a few others that sulked in the corners where the light was dimmest. The surroundings were more familiar than I was expecting.

"Wait, isn't this…actually really close to The Last Drop?" I noted in a whisper.

We came out of a tunnel that ripped straight through the stone wall. Going into those passages unprepared could see you turned around at least a thousand times over. But if you knew where you were going, then it was almost a straight shot directly to the giant fan.

Jinx smirked from beside me. "Told you it was perfect."

The further we went the more confident I grew. I knew this place like the back of my hand, it had been my home for the past two years.

We were safest in the seat of Silco's power.

"There's less people than there should be at this hour," I said, glancing around.

"Think Silco's looking for us?"

"That has to be it."

I let a fond smile grow on my face. He would absolutely make a big deal out of it once word got back.

A snarling Silco would be more than enough to scare off the regular foot traffic. Zaunites weren't stupid. When a bunch of people were marching around, they knew it was time to get out of sight.

Especially when it's the Eye of Zaun.

The few people I could see looked fidgety. Two people were arguing quietly in an alley, but I made note of how they were sending glances our way. I locked eyes, glaring back at them. That made them disappear back into the dark.

Most of the people around should be on our payroll. But if a good bit of our manpower's out looking for us…

I stepped close to Jinx, putting a hand on her back. "We should hurry back to base."

There was probably a Whump or two perched somewhere. But I assumed their orders would be to report back to Silco as soon as possible if they saw us.

We power walked through the streets. I sent a few glances behind us, but I didn't see anyone following. It was narrow here, but it was even more packed between the alleys, so we had to be careful. And frankly, I think the both of us were too tired to go jumping from the rooftops. We had been moving non-stop. To the club, then from the club, then the fight and the—

A man jumped out from around the corner in front of us, swinging a ribbed piece of metal rebar.

My eyes widened.

We were too close to dodge.

Jinx was to my left, it would hit her first.

It wasn't even a decision, more of a reaction, really.

Before I could even think about it, I twisted, grabbing Jinx and covering her in my arms.

Metal slammed into the bruises on my back, forcibly pushing out the air from my lungs.

I stumbled, holding her. I looked back, quick enough to see the second swing rush toward me.

The metal rocked my head to the side, sending me to the ground and causing me to let go of Jinx.

"Vi!"

A shot rung out less than a second later. A body joined mine on the ground.

I can't—I-I.

The world was blurry and out of focus. I blinked hard, trying my best to see. The blow happened so fast, my thoughts weren't coherent. It was hard for me to keep track of what was happening.

"Are you okay!?" Jinx's hands were on my cheeks. I could feel the heat of blood gush from my nose. I tried to blow out a nostril, but that just left me choking a tad. I opened my mouth, taking wheezing breaths. The oxygen cleared my mind.

My vision cleared. It let me see the arms that wrapped around Jinx, pulling her up.

"Let go of me!" Her arms were pinned to her sides. She couldn't grab her gun. Jinx kicked widely and sent her head back as hard as she could.

J-Jinx…

I tried to push myself off the ground, my disorientation rapidly turning to rage.

"Go, go, go! We can't do this in Silco's territory! They'll be on us soon!"

I could make out a small group around us, frantic looks on their faces. I gave Jinx my gun, so it left me only one option. With a rough yank I pulled out my yo-yo.

I'll—I'll kill you.

But I didn't get a chance to act on my thoughts, as the man holding Jinx was knocked straight to the ground. As soon as she was free, a baton was shoved into the thug's gut. The baton glowed blue as electricity rapidly arced around it, sending who knows how many volts into the man.

My eyes widened at who was holding the weapon.

The rest of the group didn't get time to react. A new group of people stomped out of the shadows, cutting off any route of escape.

They all had a theme to them. Although there were personalization here and there, they all wore matching berets and bandoliers with the most stereotypical of military fatigues.

The new group quickly took care of our attackers, twisting arms and brutally smashing people against the walls, and stomping on heads once they were down.

Jinx paid it no mind, rushing into my arms as they did so.

"I'm—I'm okay," I said, hugging her. I was thrown off by the rapid change in events. Jinx glared out from between my arms, one hand grasped around her gun, and another in her pouch.

She wouldn't be caught off guard again.

My eyes trailed up and down the leader of our 'rescuers.' Baron Wencher Spindlaw stood with two shock batons held in each metal hand, glaring down at us behind tiny goggles.

The man was old, but he must have once been strong in his youth. His wide frame looked like it was starting to shrink. There was no hair at the top of his head, it was the only bit of his skin I could see beside his face. The skin had liver-spots and was rough like old parchment. However, the hair was long and grey where it did exist. It merged with a thick beard.

His teeth were a stained grey and sharp from bone loss.

In fact, grey seemed to be the theme between him and his followers. Wencher's black coat had grey stripes that ran through it. They led to large metal arms.

The implants were like nothing I had seen before. It wasn't spindly like Smeech's, but the style looked different than the usual, what with all of its ridges. As much as an oxymoron as it sounded, they were both thick and skeletal. The grey stripes made the man look like a skeleton with a human face.

"I've been meaning to have a conversation with you…brat," Wencher said with a snarl.

Strangely, I got the impression that it was a normal look for him

Chapter 16: Echoes of the Eye

I considered putting a Jinx PoV this chapter, but I think it's for the best I don't. Although, I did write one out so I could use it as a reference.

Bit of a non-sequitur here as I can't find a way to bring it up, but Vivek won't always agree 1–1 with Silco. Of course he'll never betray him, or work against him. But as Viv grows, the more assured he becomes in himself and the way he does things. But that's stuff I'll explore more of in the next arc.

I have specific ideas of how the characters should grow in each arc. I think it's fun to have a clear through line of how one character can reach from point A to B.

Thank you for reading!

Zeal Ardor

Placeholder77 said:

So I went back and added this line to chapter 7. This should be the only time I'll ever have to do that. I wrote this before season 2, and I think it still works, but now that the timeilne's more clear I think it's better to at least mention Vivek's birth. And I can take advantage of the fogginess of the series of events after the Bridge.
It seems like I'm posting a week and a day after every chapter. Didn't plan it, but that's how it's been working out.

How did that one adage go—beware the old in a profession where most die young?
Retirement was a luxury for the rich.
In the Undercity, you only stopped working when you were dead. Illness, tragedy, it didn't matter, the work would wait for no one. Men like my father, they came from a generation where they didn't eat if they didn't sweat. Whether it be the mines, the factories, or some other backbreaking job, you were expected to stick with it until the end.
It was why Gutsy still worked at her age, even though she was older than Silco. Even if she put back some funds, I'm sure she would be too conditioned to just spend her final years in peace. There would always be that lingering fear in the back of her mind. You had to hustle to survive. Even with her shop, Granny still didn't feel secure enough to stop there. She only stopped her participation in the animal-fight clubs after I met her.
There was always some danger in Zaun, but working a sugar shop was admittedly less deadly than some other jobs though. It wasn't the worst place to spend your twilight years.
Wencher, however, was the furthest thing from a baker.
The man was a gangster.
Thugs were a dime a dozen. They could be found on every corner and every street, waiting to gut someone for a couple of extra gears. You learned which ones to avoid by the look in their eyes. Some were hungry, scared and alone, those people fought because they were desperate. Others had a different kind of hunger. Those were the ones with anger in their eyes, like sharks sniffing out blood.
They did whatever they could to get that anger out. Those were the ones to watch out for.
Somehow, despite being the oldest person I had ever seen, Wencher had the same anger in him as a man a third his age. If I could see his eyes, I'm sure he would have that exact look in them.
Wencher stepped over the man he incapacitated, roughly kicking him in the process. His batons were back in his belt buckle, but I couldn't help but eye him as the Baron came closer.
"Get rid of the rest, this one will be our present," Wencher said with a rasp. "Won't be long before daddy comes running anyway." His men marched to the man who grabbed Jinx, tying his hands behind his back and sliding him to a corner. One minion withdrew a jagged knife, slowly putting it to the unconscious man's throat.
"Present?" I asked warily, sounding like I had a stuffed nose. The blood wasn't flowing anymore, but at this point my suit was ruined.
"I'm taking a gamble coming this far into Silco's territory unannounced. I'm hoping that by having someone to interrogate, he'll let be more inclined to let us leave without a fight."
"And if he doesn't?"
Wencher's lips twitched for the first time, his wrinkly skin pulling up to reveal piranha-like teeth. "Then I'll snap your father's neck like a twig before I die."
I glared at him, but inwardly, I was surprised at the outright acknowledgement of our strength. From what I heard of the man, he seemed like a stubborn old bastard. I didn't think he would be the type to admit a possible defeat.
Jinx snapped out her gun, stopping him in his tracks. "Not another step, you bag of bones!" She exclaimed, blinking away her unshed tears. Jinx balanced my weight, half holding me. "What do you want with us?"
His minions tensed around us. She got to it before I did, but I was suspicious of him myself.
Why the hell is a Chem-Baron going out of his way to talk to us?
"Not you, runt, him," Wencher snorted at me. "I'm here to talk about your sentient racoons."
At this point, the mention of the Whumps didn't faze me.
"It's ours," I emphasized, elbowing Jinx "and it's sapient not sentient." Covered in blood and bruises, I was in no mood to play nice, especially after the day we just had.
"Bah!" Wencher's face contorted to a snarl. "I'm here on good faith! The Whumps are known now, you miserable little swine. Already, there are more rumors of them than I've ever heard before. Won't be long before every info broker in the city starts running their mouth."
I frowned at the conformation. It was something I had considered would happen after the attack. Their reveal was much sooner than I planned. Although I'm sure the majority of the population was under my employment, I would need to rush to find any remaining large nests.
I need to make certain their image is tied to mine, I thought rapidly, contemplating my next actions. I had the Whumps' loyalty, arguably their love too. But others would try to exploit them. I was prepared for not every Whump to work for me, but I had to solidify myself as a home for the Whumps. Show that I wouldn't tolerate any mistreatment towards them. It would hopefully draw more of them to me and away from any cruel employer.
They surely all knew of me at this point. If nothing else, I didn't want my furry little friends to be abused.
I stopped, replaying Wencher's words in my mind. "You said…more than before? You've paid attention to the rumors about them?"
Wencher seemed to soften ever so slightly—if that was even possible for the man—his frown making him look like a dry raisin. "I've been around the block. Cave racoons are one of the old mining stories. The rat bastards were just as likely to steal your bread as they were to lead you to safety. Then they'd scamper away like cowards, making you think you were just seeing things in the fumes."
I stood a bit wobbly. Jinx helped to stable me even as her aim stayed steady. "And that's it? You want to warn me about something I already knew was coming?"
"No. I'm here to look you in the eye and see if you're worth not killing," Wencher said in an even tone.
"You can try," Jinx bit out with a glare, finger trigger itching.
Wencher continued, ignoring Jinx. "And if you're not…then I'm willing to offer you a partnership." He spat the last word as if it offended him.
Excuse me? I was caught completely flatfooted. The man was offering to collaborate only a single sentence after threating to kill me. Would he really come here, knowing he could die, just for that?
I studied his men. They had the typical scars I'd expect for an organized group of chem-punks. Not a one looked put off at the talk of death, even of their leader's.
The must have come here knowing it was a possibility. If my read was right, then these people would be loyal to death. I needed more information; I had to keep him talking.
"If you want a partnership, then you can wait until my father arrives," I said. "Why even offer such a thing to me in the first place?"
"Because someone keeps trying to use me," Wencher growled, like gravel crunching under a boot. "And I don't particularly care for that. I won't be pushed into a war I didn't start. As for you…I can see which way the winds blowing."
I frowned at him. "What?"
"That's the secret of your supply, isn't it? You're using the Whumps for Shimmer production."
I stayed silent at the accusation, but if he really was familiar with them, then it wasn't the hardest conclusion to reach.
"I know that you manage them, and that means it's your supply. You're the one bringing in the money."
"It's not all me," I snapped back, "I work under my father. I couldn't do it without a number of other people's support. I don't micromanage our entire enterprise."
I acknowledged I had an important role, but it wasn't the only role to be played.
Wencher shook his head. "No, I've seen this before. Whoever has all the money has all the power. Silco himself proved that. And I've never seen so much money run through the Undercity as I have in the past few years. For the first time, there's disposable income. People can afford to take a second to breathe."
I made note of the fact that he didn't mention the rise in drug usage, just on the money it brought. I believed in my actions, but that didn't mean I wasn't aware of what the proliferation of Shimmer was doing.
Wencher seems to think I'm the cause of it, but it was never just me.
"I know what it's like to be that position," the Chem-Baron chuckled. "When the second brings in more money than the first, well…they don't stay the second for long."
I wiped my bloody nose roughly, a flash of anger heating me. "I know your history! Unlike you, we know loyalty. I would die before I do that to my own father."
There would be no future where I would have to choose between my dream and my family.
We shared a vision.
Wencher face fell to a scowl. I was surprised it wasn't stuck there from how often he seemed to do it. "Think of me what you will, but I know loyalty, brat. I don't regret taking power from my father-in-law or how it happened."
Father-in-law? I wasn't aware of that part of the story…
"That doesn't matter anyways," Wencher continued. "I'm only here to ask you what your intentions are. What drives you? Tell me this, and in return…I'll reveal who's been funding these attacks on you."
I considered my options, careful to keep my face blank. Boccus was clearly involved in this, but he had a backer. Even as an informant he couldn't be that rich. Wencher didn't hold the power here. It wouldn't be long until our men converged on him. And whatever information he had, we would surely discover it soon.
There was an idea to shoot him and be done with it, but I discarded it. We could probably take his goons, and it could be argued as self-defense, but there was no reason to do that.
Someone was trying to pit us against each other, killing him would be playing right into their hands. Wencher had influence in the city. He was from a time before the Chem-Barons, where they were just communities that banded together. His company handled racketeering and physical labor, especially in the Promenade docks. It wasn't rare for people to hire his men. They had a reputation for their aggressive actions.
But more than anything, Wencher confused me. He was filled with contradictions. Here was this old man, ready to throw down with some teenagers. He was conservate in some places and progressive in others.
He rejects joining our council, saying it's not our way, yet his gang members are dressed in uniform.
Silco scoffed at costumed workers and themed gangs. And yet, a man much older than him was embracing it.
I don't know what to make of Wencher.
Smeech I could understand, but not him.
If I spoke about how we all deserve to breathe, he would probably just call me naïve…
"Fine." I said, nudging Jinx to lower her gun, which she did with a resigned sigh. I looked into his goggles. They covered his both eyes entirely, I couldn't even see a hint of white. "My goal is simple, and it's not exactly a secret. Every action we take is towards forming the nation of Zaun. An independent Undercity. One governed by her own people, where we can decide our own future without Topside's restraints."
"Ha!" Wencher barked, his lips pulling back into a grin. "Zaun, you believe in it genuinely? I should have expected it given your father. But do you even know where that name comes from? Or are you just mindlessly spouting rhetoric."
"Of course I do," I snapped back. "It's a call back to the ancient Shuriman port city that was built here, Ohsha va'Zaun. It was only after it was long dead and buried that Heimerdinger and the rest founded Piltover on its ashes."
It was after the Rune Wars that Piltover was established. There were a lot of nations that were made in its aftermath. There was an implication in us using the name Zaun.
"But it's not Piltovan, and it's not Shuriman," I continued. "It's a name that we chose. Our own distinct identity."
Wencher hummed, sounding like the grinding of rocks. "The Uprising failed once before. Even with better resources, who's to say it won't fail again?"
"I know for a fact that it won't this time."
"How can you be so sure? Piltover's growth hasn't been stagnant either."
I hooked an arm around Jinx, standing a bit taller as I glared at him. "Because the last time they tired, they didn't have us."
I wasn't so arrogant to believe that the two of us alone could bring revolution. But frankly, I wasn't in the mood to go on a tirade about logistics and plans. It wasn't like I was completely wrong either. It was no excuse to take things easy, but Jinx being here, it told me all I needed to know.
Wencher stared for a moment before grumbling, "…Cocky brat. And you…girl?"
"I just want to get home and take a bath. I'm covered in cave dust," said Jinx with a lazy shrug against me. "I'm sticking with my family. Everything else…I'll figure it out as I go along."
I smiled slightly.
I always called her 'sister,' but I think that was the first time that she outwardly referred to us as a family.
In the underground, you picked your own family. Blood ties only mattered as much as you wanted it to. I'm glad then, that she had chosen us as Her's.
We didn't get a chance to finish our conversation as not long after, a din scraping sound overpowered the buzz of the nearby machinery. Wencher's punks glanced around, slowly gathering close together.
"Times up," The old Baron said, turning around.
A mountain of a man pushed his way out of the shadows; it was like he pushed away the dark with his sheer bulk. He had tattoos that ran up his body and coiled around his jaw.
Silm Jim held a chain in his hand, dragging along a small anchor as he glared straight ahead.
I let out a small exhale, a bit of my tension dropping at the sight. Wencher held his head high as more of our men started to appear. Small groups emerged from the alleys, some carrying weapons such as rough knives or chipped brass knuckles. I could make out some familiar faces in the crowd.
Even Deckard was there, staring at our dirty attire.
It didn't take long before we were surrounded by more than two dozen people. There were the skittering steps of the my Whumps above us, but I made sure to not look up.
"You've quite the nerve, Wencher," A voice growled. Silco sauntered out of the dark, his makeup askew slightly, revealing the black skin that reached past his brow. Silco stepped to the front of the crowd, holding his arms out. "What a surprise that you show up now…of all the times."
"Silco," Wencher sneered, his metal fingers splayed out. "You're welcome, for saving your heir."
Silco glared back. "And I will thank you for that once they are allowed to come to me."
Wencher was silent for a moment, racketing up the pressure. On both sides, people shuffled and fingered their weapons. He glanced at us before scoffing, "Bah! Move, you runts!"
Taking the cue, I rushed over eagerly, pulling Jinx along. In just a few short steps, I was back to his side. I didn't hesitate to wrap him in a hug. For once, I wasn't worried about my image. We were allowed a moment to ourselves.
I looked back at Jinx. She was hesitating, cheek twitching as she looked away.
I smiled, reaching out a hand. Jinx began to sniffle. She let her tears finally fall. That was all that it took for her to ram into us, squeezing as hard as she could. I could feel her tears against me, but even if my suit wasn't ruined, I still wouldn't pay it any mind.
Silco sighed, reciprocating the hug. "…I was worried," he murmured. Being in his arms, I felt safe—warm, like there was no longer a need to look over my shoulder.
I ignored the prickling in my eyes. I wasn't young enough to get away with it in public anymore. Not when the men were here. The deadliest man in the Undercity allowed us to rest against him for a moment.
And then he glared up.
Silco glanced at the bodies on the ground, and the tied man who was starting to come to.
"Thank you, for your…timely rescue," Silco said dryly, what sounded like an accusation in his voice. "Now why are you here?"
"Why, I'm here to offer you some information I learned," Wencher said. He jerked his head to the bound man. "Feel free to verify it."
I frowned. Was he going to tell us anyways?
"He also said something to Vi about a partnership," Jinx mumbled into Silco's suit, seemingly eager to tattletale.
"And he still hasn't said anything about the info," I noted.
Silco's eye narrowed. He pulled back a bit, resting a hand on our shoulders. "Is that so? Then no more hesitation, out with it."
Wencher scoffed, taking a stomp forward. "Fine. It's Chross that's funding this. I don't know why he's doing this now, but the capital is coming from him. They're even using safehouses I know are his." Wencher spit off the side. "Wouldn't expect anything else from a thieving Topsider."
"Topsider?" I asked in confusion.
"Chross was originally from Piltover," Silco said quietly before turning his attention to the other Baron. "Why did you not reveal this in our last few meetings?"
"You're not the only one that's been having issues!" Wencher snarled. "Believe it or not, I only found this out recently! If I could have got someone to spill their guts earlier, then I would have." He rested a metal hand on a baton. "That's all I have for you….I've delivered my message. Am I free to leave, or do I have to cut my way out."
My thoughts wandered as Silco and Wencher glared at each other.
Chross ran the Hush Company. It managed a collection of fences and information networks. The Hush Company was renowned for its surveillance and its ironic goal of 'keeping people honest.'
Not every informant worked for Chross, but Boccus ran an info club.
Smeech sold a prototype implant to both Wencher and Chross.
If anyone would know about Wencher having one, it would be the man who specialized in information.
A Chem-Baron would certainly be rich enough to fund something like Boccus' club.
The pieces felt like they were coming together. I could see Chross being our culprit, but not the motive.
But why? Is it because he's originally from topside? Did the talk of revolution scare him?
"…Very well," Silco declared, "you're free to leave. I'll forgive your trespassing…this once."
Silco was more aware of Chross than I was. It seemed, for now, he was entertaining what Wencher said.
The tension deflated like a popped balloon. Wencher gathered his goons and made to leave. Our attacker was now awake, panicking in the corner and struggling against his bonds.
"I'm warning you now," Wencher grunted. "I'm slaughtering Chross regardless. I don't care if you fill it or not—be ready for the bubble his death will cause."
Chross offered a valuable service; all the Chem-Barons did. They were the titans of their industries, even if there was sometimes overlap. Information was especially valuable for criminals. Silco had his own informants and ways of getting news, but everyone used Hush Company.
The vultures would scramble to occupy its absence. If Chross really was responsible, his assets, his territory, his contracts, all these things would have to be divvied up.
Informants would always exist, but the Hush Company served as easy access points for everyone in the city. Even as the largest of the factions, we would have growing pains trying to reclaim their entire network.
But that gave me an idea.
It wasn't like I couldn't just fulfill its niche.
It would be difficult to do, but if the Whumps were going to be known anyways, then we might as well use them. It was just a thought for now, something much easier said than done. But broadly speaking, why couldn't I take Chross' place? His role at least.
The Whumps would make perfect spies.
And I already had more knowledge than I rightfully should.
"I'll be moving on them soon, regardless," Wencher said. "If you want to cooperate, then send a runner before you fall behind."
"We'll verify this first, but Wencher," Silco spoke up, stopping Wencher's march. Silco's glare was hard enough, I'm sure it could cut through stone. "The next time you happen to find something worth telling…stay away from my son."
Wencher snorted but moved forward with his group. I didn't understand him—wasn't sure if it was wise to take what he said at face value.
Was he always going to offer cooperation? Did it really matter what I said? He could've just been provoking a response.
Either way, even though I couldn't see his eyes…
I could tell they stayed on me as he left.

It felt good, relaxing on a plush couch with a racoon on your lap.
My body was still sore from all the fighting and running a few days before. My bruises would ache if I stretched a bit too far, but it wasn't anything deliberating.
I could fight if I had to.
"Unfortunately, Wencher wasn't wrong." Silco grumbled, sitting at his desk. "This Boccus is connected to Chross."
Sevika decided not to sit, instead standing with crossed arms and a tight frown. "Then we're sure the attacks were from Boccus then?"
"I am. I made sure to see to the questioning personally."
I wasn't sure what Silco did, but he was insistent that he would handle it and that Jinx and I should get some rest. Which we did, enjoying a long night's sleep and a lengthy cuddle session.
"So…we're going after them, right?" Jinx asked, sitting cross legged on the desk, resting her head on her hands.
"Yes," Silco replied, "it's obvious what happens next…." He pressed a finger down onto the rudimentary map that covered the desk. "Debauchery and Delights stands at the edge of our territory. We would have subsumed it eventually. Instead, we'll speed things along and take it."
I frowned, scratching under Capo Cornelius' chin. "Maybe that's why he attacked when he did. He doesn't want to give up control."
Our territory was seeing significant growth. I would argue a better quality of living as well. All of the Undercity was, but it was in our lines where the construction could be felt the most.
So much for doing what's best for the community.
I bet he just didn't like the idea of him not being in control.
"What are we going to do about Chross?" I asked. That was the more pressing issue.
"He needs to be taken care of," Slico huffed. "On that note, I will begrudgingly admit that it's better to work with Wencher than not. It's a matter of principle that we remove Chross. Wencher will bleed his own men trying, nevertheless. We might as well make use of him." The orange of his eye burned with a toxic spark. "The Chem-Barons must learn that not even they are beyond my sight."
It was going to be a gang war, but not one I saw as lasting long. Two Chem-Barons working together was one thing, but alongside our size, we had numerous other allies and better resources. Renni, I knew for a fact would support us. We brought her too much money from the Shimmer factories she managed.
It didn't matter if this was just a desperate gamble of Boccus or not. Chross was actively supporting him, that meant they both had to go.
"If possible, could…you leave Boccus himself to me?" I asked, drawing all eyes to me. "You said this was our responsibility. It was the Whumps that were originally attacked. He insulted Jinx to her face, and we were directly attacked after leaving his club." I grit my teeth as my voice tightened. "I say we're owed some retribution."
Jinx perked up. "Yeah, we can totally handle this!" she said, gaining a smile.
Silco tapped a finger on the map, staring at me.
Sevika sighed. "I saw the bodies when you sent me to the club, sir. It's hard to believe a couple of tykes did something like that…but the proofs in the blood. I say they can be trusted with it."
I was surprised, but pleased, to hear Sevika speak up in our favor.
"…Then I won't coddle you," Sllco declared. "Chross requires my attention regardless, you can deal with Boccus." His voice softened as he turned to Jinx. "Jinx, I'll need you to take care of some problems for me, and your particular skill set is most suitable for it….are you prepared for this?"
She nodded, a fierce expression covering her face. "I promise, I won't let you down, Silco."
"I know you won't." Silco turned back to me. "We'll need to make use of the Whumps as well. Production may slow some, but we can take a small hit. Can you coordinate them?"
I looked down at Cornelius. He looked up at me, learning his head back against my chest, with an eager look in his wide eyes. His hat was filled with holes, but my old handkerchief stayed clean and tight around his neck. Cornelius' tongue rolled out as he panted with excitement.
I wonder how it made them feel, to be a part of something so important. They were more than scavengers now, although they still liked doing that. They were directly interacting in a conflict that affected the entire city that they lived in. Did that give them a sense of pride?
I had said it before. But there was something to be said, for how weak they were alone, they were strong together.
The Whumps would probably play a vital part. They was just an idea at first. I had plans for how to work with them when I sought them out, but I continued to be impressed at how important they became to us.
For a moment, I had a thought, Am I encouraging an entire race of furry critters to embrace a gang culture?
Maybe I was. But ultimately, I could see how eager Cornelius was. Their eyes were expressive, their faces told it all. I didn't hide my praise for them. They were important now. They had the ability to fight back. They would soon be able to move without fearing for their lives.
They were free.
Ultimately, the Whumps were better off having met me than not.
"We've got this," I said in certainty. I grinned down at my fuzzy friend as he looked up with stary eyes. "Don't we, buddy?"
Cornelius straightened and gave a crisp salute to Silco.
"Oh, and Cornelius," I said. "If you can…make sure you snatch their chains."
He giggled in excitement.
Silco had one last person to address. "Sevika, get the men ready."
Sevika nodded back, nothing more needed to be said.
"Good. Now then, there's something you should know about Chross," Silco said, fixing us with a stern look. "This information doesn't leave this room."
We gave various assertions of agreement. Silco waited until we were done before he continued. He spoke in a lazy tone, as if what he was going to say next bored him,
"I'd like to let you in on one of the secrets of the Undercity."

Renata Glasc was a kindly middle-aged woman.
Renata Glasc was missing her left arm from the fire that claimed both of her parents.
Renata Glasc was one of the few success stories from the Undercity. Proof that Piltover would embrace you as long as you had talent.
"Thank you, please come again," Renata said, smiling with kind brown eyes. She handed off the bagged perfume with her single arm.
That was the image Renata Glasc wanted Pilitover to see.
Glasc industries was a small enterprise. Yet they managed to afford a single shop with a respectable size in Piltover's busiest market. It was different than what she imagined as a child. The curves weren't wild and swiping. Instead, the design was made of sharp corners and stern lines. They produced a style that was both efficient and beautiful.
Perfumes were laid out on plush purple pillows. There were only the simplest of locks for the glass displays. The entire space of the shop was open. Its patrons walked without fear of clutter or reckless stumbles. They tittered at the smells, wearing clothes of soft silk and puffed-up ruffles. Some of the ladies even had hats with feathers sewed into the fabric.
How disgusting, Renata thought behind her smile, studying the buffoons before her. The air here's so thin, of course these people would be lacking in intelligence.
She was—once again—proven correct by the sound of one of the couple's mutters, "This is surprisingly adequate for Undercity perfumes."
Her friend shushed her. "It's not Undercity made anymore. All Glasc products are produced up here," the girl whispered.
"Well, at least we don't have to worry about the stink then…"
If only they knew…
Even with the crisp temperature outside, the heaters faced no issues as they kept the wide space warm.
Renata turned to one of her aides. "Linda, do you mind taking over the rest of my shift? I have a meeting to attend to."
"Of course, Ms. Glasc"
Linda was from a lesser noble house. When her family disowned her, her employer was all the willing to provide her with a home. Linda now took over Renata's shifts when she needed to 'disappear' for a bit. It was a small act she did, to repay the debt she owed Renata. But it was meaningful, even so.
Renata stepped into the back. If Linda could tell a lie as good as she can now, then she wouldn't have been disowned in the first place.
She unclasped a trunk in the corner, revealing a smooth metal implant. She adjusted her vest as she attached it into her socket, hissing a slight bit as the implant forcibly connected with her nerves. The metal was too jagged and ugly for Piltover's sensibilities. They would never accept it.
And so, she did business topside without it.
As much as it grates to be pitied, Renata mused, making her way out the back door, it sells the image of weakness.
It rankled her, being in this place. However, the perfumes would sell far better in this crowd. That was the goal: to integrate herself into Piltover, and to show she wasn't a threat.
The Uprising some years back made it difficult. The Topsiders looked down on those from the Undercity, even if they stood directly eye–eye with them. But she needed to do it. She needed to show herself as a success story. Having other Undersiders in important positions, such as the assistant to the dean of the Academy, helped to sell the image.
That was always part of the plan.
A plan that was now going awry.
Renata walked through Piltover. She felt the free breeze brush against her skin and simple suit. She wore a long white coat and a glove to cover her metal arm. Grey was beginning to streak through her black hair. Some would argue that it was premature from having lived in the Undercity.
Those people were fools.
She was stone-faced as she moved around the few Piltovans that were still out. It was winter now, the temperature was dropping sharply. Her skin was flush with gooseflesh from the cold.
But she never forgot the heat.
The burning fire that took her family and their work. Its sadistic crackles, and the flames that licked at her skin. It stole her breath, her arm, her entire life. She would never forget the feeling of her skin bubbling and melting down the bone.
The arm wasn't even burned off. It was amputated after the damage the fire did to it.
Renata Glasc would never forget what Piltover did to her. It would burn just as she did, until she could stand atop its ashes with her empire behind her.
That was the plan. That was always the plan.
But things are progressing far faster than I expected, Renata thought in annoyance as she crossed The Bridge of Progress.
She once thought she was the only one who saw the potential of Chem-tech, but that was now proving a foolish thought to have. The technology was advancing rapidly. Her implant moved far less rigid than it once did. The Undercity expanded in general. New money, new buildings, even the Baron's were growing more powerful.
And it was all due to Shimmer.
Whoever Silco found to design the substance must be a miracle worker.
It was a truly beautiful concoction. Renata was an expert chemist, she could understand the wonderful tapestry that made the drug.
The Chem-tech that she planned to be fueled by her family's own recipe, was now being fueled by Shimmer.
And it was because of it that she now had to reconsider. She had spent agonizing long years to establish her company and make a name for herself in Piltover. That was why it burned when things changed in just a measly two.
Renata hadn't seen Silco since the days after the Uprising. She knew he would move on Vander eventually, but not that he would also drag the Undercity into the future, kicking and screaming.
I must admit, Renata begrudgingly thought. I underestimated him.
And now he intended to form a council. Silco consolidated his power, had ties to numerous organizations, and had a potential heir if anything happened to him.
I should have paid more focus to the Undercity. I was too concerned with Piltover.
Most of the Chem-Baron's companies were centered in Undercity territory. It was a calculated ploy to expand Glasc industries into Piltover proper. One she was hoping would pay off.
But Silco was snatching away her chance. It was only a matter of time before he controlled the whole of the Undercity.
He was taking her rightful place.
She remembered the days before SIlco and Vander built The Lanes. It was far harder to peddle her substances—all laced with family's signature chemical formula—than the ease that she did so now.
As if that wasn't enough, Piltover was awash with talk of its promised Hextech. Renata would profit once the Hexgates were up, she was sure. But the new technology was stealing the attention of the public. It was whispered from the lips of the houses, both Great and Lesser.
It made it hard for new inventions to wow the masses.
Renata walked into a building from its side entrance, in an area that some people called the 'Promenade.' It was a diner with dim light and little clientele. Perfect for the occasion. She felt more at home in its dark and tight corners, than all of Piltover combined. Renata Glasc sat at a booth, a waiter taking her order after some time.
"It's a risk for me to turn my attention away, right now," the man sitting in the booth behind her said. "Surely, this is for something important?"
"Don't be so hasty, Chross," Renata replied, idly looking at a menu. "You can't afford to at your age."
Chross jeered from behind her. "Hasty, you say? Wencher and Silco have already begun their attacks! Without your promised support, I won't hold out for long."
Renata hummed.
While her company acted legitimately topside, Chross was a smokescreen for her more illegitimate needs. She couldn't afford to be seen as a Chem-Baron. Not when she had worked so hard to construct her image.
To that end, Renata Glasc forged a long-standing partnership with Chross. One that had lasted for many years.
"On that note, I'm afraid the situation has become dangerous enough that I must take a step back," Renata said in a bland tone. "I'm afraid, this will be the last we will be seeing of each other."
Chross jolted, half-turning and jingling the golden earrings in his saggy skin.
What a pair we make…The Topsider that went underground, and the Undersider that went up, Renata thought in amusement.
"What?! We promised to support each other! You were the one who said I should support Boccus!"
Renata shook her head. "No. We promised to help each other within reason, as long as it is safe. Regretfully, I can't risk falling under Silco's gaze. I need to look out for my company and employees. Surely, you understand?"
And Wencher isn't as much of a doddering old fool as he wants people to believe.
"You…you vile rat," Chross spat, but carefully enough to not be overheard. "After all these years, this is how it ends? It was Boccus who brought this on us. You said I should encourage it!"
"I suggested what you should do, and if I was able to, then I would assist you." Renata tsked at the bland options on the menu. She was growing too used to Piltovan spices. "I didn't foresee Wencher not taking the bait. Boccus' attempts on the heir also failed, no? Now instead of using your talents and playing both sides, your enemies have united against you."
"My enemies," Chross bitterly chuckled. "You had me convinced this was the best path forward. That you could crack Shimmer!"
Why compete against a monopoly? Renata scoffed internally. I could lace my family recipe into it, but Shimmer is far too volatile of a substance. It would need to be refined to a point.
It wasn't worth the cost.
And truthfully, she didn't order anything. All that she did was offer her advice as a consultant. Even with Chross' considerable talent, he didn't grow up in the Undercity. There was a certain experience that he lacked. It was thanks to Renata that he could shore up that weakness.
It was thanks to him that she made her new contacts in Piltover.
Every word she had ever said to him had been spoken as advice. Renata Glasc had never ordered anything to any organization besides her own Glasc industries. It was always just recommendations to associates.
That way, there's no paper trail to follow.
And yet, despite her careful movements, Wencher—of all people—had somehow connected her to Chross.
The game had grown too dangerous to play.
"I'm sorry to say, Chross, but sometimes…these things happen."
Every day, the throne grew further and further out of reach. Silco was a deadly foe to have, and his position only became more entrenched as time went on. If she wanted to stop his explosive growth and take it for herself, she needed to take a risk.
The risk didn't pay off, and so, it was now time to wash her hands of it all.
"I should have waited," Chross lamented. "If I stuck with Silco, I could've made more damn money in the long run! Now I have to contend with two Barons."
Chross stood up sharply, slamming his hands on the counter. "I can't waste time here. I hope you live long enough to see your enterprise crash around you. May your woes be many, Renata Glasc," he said before leaving the restaurant.
I'm surprised he didn't try to kill me, Renata pondered. Even if he dresses like us, no matter how much he thinks otherwise, Chross never thought like us.
Renata enjoyed her meal.
The sun began to dip down as she left, dropping the temperature. Glasc buttoned her jacket as she walked home. The streets of Piltover were clean and pristine. There wasn't a single burning metal drum to be seen.
The plan had to change.
She wasn't worried about Chross ratting her out. Renata had made sure that her alibi was always ironclad. And getting rid of him at this moment would be suspicious. The loss of Chross would be a large wound to her operations, but survival was preferable to death. When an arm was infected, it was better to cut it off before it festered.
I've missed my opportunity.
From here, she would have to lay low and watch carefully. Perhaps in the future she would have another opportunity, perhaps not. Regardless, she wouldn't have enough resources to act as freely as she wanted. For now, the main priority was to grow her business topside. Expand as much as Glasc Industries could handle.
There's also Silco's revolution to consider. If it goes far enough, any business ran by an Undercity native won't be looked fondly upon. Perhaps Silco's heir can be influenced?
Renata made a note to secure her assets in the Undercity. She wouldn't be able to move into Chem-tech as much as she originally wanted, but there were other niches to fill.
Chross' death will leave a void in the information sphere. That may be one avenue to look into…
Renata arrived at her current home. A respectable estate that was humble by Piltovan standards but was far more than someone from the Undercity would know what to do with.
She unlocked the door and—
Renata paused.
She turned it slowly with one hand, the other rested at her side, where a vial of chemicals was hidden and ready. The door was opened carefully before she stepped in. When it closed behind her, the inside of the house was thrown into darkness.
It was a pitch black. Renata didn't like how open it was, so she replaced and covered the windows. The light of the moon couldn't breach her fortress.
She wouldn't even be able to see her hands held in front of her. It was by her own design.
Someone lit a lighter.
It was the only source of light.
The fire moved gently to a waiting cigar.
The end of Silco's cigar burned in a blazing orange. He sat in one of her chairs, relaxed and unafraid. His henchmen were around her, eyeing her and lounging like they owned the place.
I'll have to burn the vial if I wish to escape.
There were more of them that were stashed around the house. She could survive if she was quick enough.
Renata turned on a lamp before she stepped forward. "Silco. It's been some time, hasn't it? Did Toby let you in?" she spoke, unafraid at the sight.
Toby was supposed to prevent these kinds of things from happening. It was why she trusted him and his crew to watch over the estate.
"Renata," Silco offered a nod. "Toby's taking a small walk. He'll be back before you know it."
"I see. May I offer some wine then?" Renata moved with ease, taking off her jacket and hanging it up.
"Wine?" Silco frowned. "You've gone native. No, Renata…you understand why I'm here." His scarred eye was lacking an eyelid, staring into her unblinkingly. "You've had dealings with Chross, let's not pretend otherwise."
"So you were aware then? Did Wencher tip you off?" Renata questioned. Silco had sought her out faster than she expected.
"No. I was always aware." Silco said to her mild surprise. His eye narrowed. "But I'm not surprised Wencher was too. Regardless, I'll have to ask why he withheld that information the next we meet."
Renata considered for a moment fanning that flame. But at this point, Wencher was surely against her. And Silco knew better.
"You'll be pleased to know that I just cut off all ties with him," Renata said. "It's bad for business to get between the Barons. I can assure you, none of my assets were involved with any of the attacks on you. I merely advise."
"Oh, I believe you," Silco said with mirth in his tone. His lips quirked ever so slightly to a smirk. "I'm sure you were far away, acting with proxies and having others move for you."
"Then are you here to kill me? You know I have always supported the cause. I know better than to work against you." Renata said easily, not even tensing her body. She looked just as calm as she did in a stroll down the street.
Because she wouldn't die. She refused to.
She wouldn't die before Piltover did.
"You have." Silco let out a puff of smoke. "I remember your contributions for the Uprising. It is because of this that I am choosing to believe you. And choosing to give you this single chance."
Silco stood up and walked to her in a languid pace, humor leaving him. Renata was a tall woman. They were almost eye to eye as Silco came close. The scar pulled at his face, darkening his features. His eye was narrowed into an unamused glower. He tilted his head up slightly, as if to show off his cigar.
"I am not the man you once knew in passing," Silco said with controlled anger. "And yet, I have never forgotten my humble beginnings. Do you remember…Renata Glasc? Do you remember where you came from?"
His cigar was fat and round. One of the thickest she had seen. With each breath he took, it sizzled, the tip burning a grey—just like corpse ash. It sparked, red bits of ember cooking within the ash. The hiss of it was like smothered screams. And the smell…the smoke was thick with an acrid smell. The tobacco was barely noticeable. Instead, it had that particular scnet that fires often had in the Undercity. When the smoke would mix with The Grey and burn at your eyes, smelling all the while of burning shit and cooking flesh.
She didn't appreciate the reminder.
"I have never forgotten," Renata hissed between gritted teeth.
"Then this will be the last time you are even remotely close to any acts against me," Silco said darkly. "This is the first and last time I will allow you make this mistake. Zaun is rising, with or without you."
"You think this time will be different then?" Renata asked, reigning in her temper. "I supported you with the expectation of giving them a black eye." She scoffed, "At the end of it, they barely even had a scratch."
Silco made to leave, stepping around her. He stopped at her side. He spoke lowly into her ear, as if he was whispering some great secret.
"Oh, don't worry. This time…I'll draw blood."
Silco exited her house, his followers loosely trailing behind him like a pack of wolves. One of them blew a kiss at her as he left, revealing a row of golden teeth.
Renata clicked her tongue after the door shut. She clenched her fists tight at the sheer annoyance she felt.
Zaun…what a pompous name.
But if nothing else, the Undercity deserved a name for herself.
She sighed, drawing herself up.
Renata checked the rest of her house as she worked through her thoughts. She reaffirmed herself. She needed to take a step back and watch how the upcoming events unfolded.
Chross was right in one way, I shouldn't have moved so fast.
And yet, she did so because it was the only chance she had left.
A furious pounding at the door stopped Renata. Piltover didn't have as much persistent noise as the Under—that Zaun did. It made it so the sound of the knocking thundered through the entire house.
"Ms. Glasc!" Linda's voice came muffled behind the door. "Ms. Glasc please open up, it's an emergency!"
A parting gift from Silco, no doubt…
Renata frowned, rushing to the door. She ripped it open in a fast motion. "What happened?" she demanded, all manner of scenarios running through her head.
"I—we r-received a message f-from—" Linda was holding out a rolled-up metal scroll. That revealed that it came through the pneumatic tubes in an official capacity. She snatched it from her and pulled it open. Beneath rows of legalese and well-formatted words, was a note.

NOTICE: You are hereby required to answer to the Piltovan court. You (Renata Glasc) and the corporation (acting name: Glasc Industries) have been accused of using and selling illegal and unsanctioned chemicals in products. The nation of Piltover, under the power of the council, hereby demands that you are summoned immediately to—

On and on it went. Most importantly, the letter was stamped with the official seal of Sherrif Marucs. It wasn't in any way a hoax.
Renata couldn't help the bitter smirk that came to her lips, much to Linda's confusion.
"Well played, Silco," she whispered under her breath.
"There's—there's more…ma'am," Linda spoke up with a quiver in her voice. Renata's smirk dropped. "Elodat…also sent a message."
Renata whirled on her with wide eyes. "What happened," she hissed.
Linda whimpered, glancing away. "It's t-the factories Ms. Glasc.. Some of them have…been set on fire?"
Renata Glasc's smirk didn't return the entire day.
It also didn't return the next day, when she found Toby's severed, hairless, charred head at her front door.
It wasn't a stench she was eager to recall again.
Well played, indeed.
Renata Glasc was a woman who was at her best when she moved carefully. When the odds were stacked in her favor.
Renata Glasc would remember that fact as she waited in the shadows.

Chapter 17: Zeal and Ardor

Okay, so some of you hit it dead on. To clarify: Boccus was behind the attack and he works for Chross.

Chross is supporting Boccus. But Chross is also being used by Renata Glasc.

Now, Renata is one of the few champions I wanted to introduce. I think she'd be a great character to bounce off Vivek given her own ideology. She wants Piltover destroyed by any means necessary, even at the expense of Zaun. While he wants the independence of Zaun by any means necessary, even at the expense of Piltover (And, well, a lot of things really).

Any canon character I use, I want to try to get right. The problem comes from Renata occupying the same place as Silco. For those that don't know, Renata was originally supposed to be SIlco in the game itself before they scrapped it and made her. Then Arcane became canon and yadda-yadda. So I want to get Renata right, but I don't want it to be at the expense of Silco. She's the richest, the strongest, the one that controls everything. The same place that Silco is in. But I don't want to undermine him to prop her up. I first planned for this to be a reveal at the end of the arc, but it just didn't feel right to me to leave her as this looming thread to be solved. Silco is THE EYE. It didn't feel right to me to have him miss something like this.

So I thought about it, and I think this series of events makes sense. Glasc is someone who works through other people. She uses people like Wencher to do the brutal stuff she can't be seen doing. Given her age, she proably a bit younger or around Vander/Silco's age. So if that's how she works, doesn't it make sense for her to use Chross as a front? And with his whole theme of information/connections and the fact that he's from Piltover, it made sense to make him the puppet Chem-Baron.

As its shown in the show, I'm going with the idea that everything is a lot smaller early on. Then Silco comes around and the Undercity starts changing. Renata isn't nearly as connected or powerful as she is as a champion. A big thing in Arcane is narrative cause and effect. I think if Renata is out there, Vivek's actions could cause her to pop up early.

Speaking of that, I didn't know much about Renata when I was planning stuff out with Vivek. But now that I do, I can say she's going to be so annoyed at his future actions.

I think by doing things this way, I can show Silco is the top dog, but also that Zaun is a dangerous place. Coyotes like Wencher and Renata are nipping at his heels. If anything, I think introducing them shows Silco's competence.

Renata will take a backseat for a bit, but Wencher will show up later.

Anyways, this arc's almost done. Then an interlude and another small time jump.

Long AN aside...Next chapter: a Jinx PoV and more uncomfortable (for everyone else but them) physical intimacy.

Thank you for reading!

Mirror Mirror

I changed the software I used to write in the middle of this chapter, so let me know if things flow weirdly. It should be fine though.

We're also now on AO3 , if you want to check out the story over there.

Silco moved fast once he had a target.

Day in and day out, the full weight of our organization pushed against Chross. Key locations and high-ranking members of the Hush Company were hit. As a Chem-Baron, I'm sure Chross had connections to pull on. But they would be hesitant to help, lest they draw Silco's ire.

Chross could probably handle Wencher alone. Throw us into the mix? It was a foregone conclusion what was going to happen next.

The hierarchy was being established for all to see. Even those not familiar with the various gangs and underground politics would understand. Silco was the one who called the shots.

That said, it wasn't as easy as snapping our fingers and being done with it. A gang war was still a war, no matter how small.

We had to be careful not to draw too much attention from Topside. There couldn't be outright chaos in the streets. The increased presence of Enforcers would be bad for business—bad for everyone. Thankfully, the council didn't seem too concerned about the average gang violence in the Undercity. The Hexgates and dreamed profits were at the forefront of their minds.

We still left a few choice Hush Company personnel to be arrested by the sheriff. The more Piltover patted themselves on the back, the more they stayed away from our business.

The gang war drained our resources, our capital, and most importantly our soldiers. It was a new experience for me, considering the lives that would be lost on our side. No matter the advantage we had, lives would surely be lost.

And we wouldn't have the advantage in every fight.

But, I observed, rifling through the papers on the desk, our position will be strengthened after we gain Chross' assets.

I had to look at it as an investment.

Was the cost, the risk, worth the reward? In this case, the answer was an absolute yes.

But I won't forget the human element, I swore to myself. No matter how many lives had to be sacrificed, I would make sure to treat them with all the respect they deserved. I refused to look at lives like a number on a page. That was what Piltover did, more concerned with statistics and percentages than the individual lives that made them up.

That's what made us different. Our sense of community. Despite the many that would die by my hands, or by my orders in the future, I wouldn't take it lightly.

I wasn't a sociopath. I mourned the stories that ended.

I just knew that sometimes, you needed to crack a few eggs to make an omelet.

"All-in-all," I murmured, stacking the papers together, "Chross is having a bad week." And it didn't look like it was going to get better. Whatever he wanted from this mad gamble, it was coming back to bite him.

I sighed, leaning back in Silco's—for now, my—chair. I took a minute to breathe now that I was done with my work. I steepled my fingers together as I gazed at Jinx's ornaments above. Soon I would have to leave to pick up my delivery.

Renata Glasc…

I had never heard of her before. Frankly, I didn't know much about Chross either. So it wasn't the biggest shock to hear he had someone pulling his strings. According to Silco, Renata was the real reason why Chross gained the title of Chem-Baron.

From what I've heard, he's normally cautious with his movements. Did Renata get him to make a move?

Then again, Chross was hiding behind Boccus in the first place. Maybe he always planned to move against us.

Regardless, moving forward, I'd keep a snake like Glasc in the corner of my eye. There was no end to the opportunists who waited for us to trip. Her and Glasc Industries was just another to add to the list.

Silco reassured us that he would deal with it himself. The rest of us were to focus on Chross' side of the conflict.

Well, mostly everyone.

"I'm back~" Jinx declared in a singsong voice, slamming the door open without a care.

I glanced down. "A new belt?" Instead of her simple brown one, she now wore a belt with studded spikes wrapping around it. It looked thicker than her old one, like something I'd see on a biker.

"Like it?" she patted her side pouch. "Can't have my stuff flying around if I'm gonna be fighting a lot." Jinx hopped onto the desk, landing in a crouch. I made sure to grab the papers before they came undone from its stack. "Silco's still got 'ya hiding behind a desk?"

"For the most part," I sighed. "He needs someone watching the base if he goes out. And when I do, I'm mostly directing the Whumps or leading the men. At this point, you're seeing more action than I am."

I wasn't completely complaining, the Whumps were a force multiplier. I would take the role that was needed. It was more useful if I was around to conduct their chaos, rather than jumping into the thick of battle. Still though, if Jinx was gaining battle experience, then I wanted to as well. I needed to grow more than just my tactical brain.

Honestly, I think Silco was surprised at just how effective Jinx was. Between her and the Whumps, we were the scythe cutting through the chaff.

"Well…he promised to leave Boccus to us, right? He's gotta let you run wild for that."

"Hm, maybe," I said absentmindedly. The new piece added to Jinx's wardrobe made my thoughts wander. In particular, it made me ruminate over the people we had met on this little adventure.

Smeech, Boccus, even Wencher. There was something they all had in common…

"A…gear for your thoughts?" Jinx asked suddenly, leaning closer. It was a common enough phrase, but I could tell that she used it because I had once said it to her. She did things like that sometimes, repeated words or mannerism that she had heard before. If Jinx spent too much time around Silco, she'd start using slang several generations before her time.

"Well, you remember that suit I commissioned that I was telling you about?" I asked.

"Oh, your fancy new one that's 100 percent Zaun made," Jinx teased.

I scoffed. "It would ruin the image if it was made across the bridge! It's the optics, Jinx. If I'm gonna represent the revolution, then people need to see that it was a Zaun tailor that made my suits. We can't all just throw something on randomly."

"Wha—hey!" Jinx perched up like a hissing cat. "I rock it, and you know it!"

You do. I thought, and very much did not verbalize to her. "Well…anyways. I was just thinking that…if I'm getting a new color-coded suit, I better pull off all the stops, right?"

"Right," Jinx agreed carefully, narrowing her eyes. "What are you hesitating for?"

I pulled open one of the drawers, grabbing a thick rectangular chest. It was surprisingly heavy for what it had inside. The chest clunked solidly onto the desk.

"It's just—" I started to ramble, letting my thoughts spill out. If there was ever anyone I could share my thoughts with, it was Jinx. "—Do you remember what Dad said about wearing what we have with pride? That's why I commissioned the suit. From this point on, people are going to know who I am just by looking at my hair. You too. People are going to know us."

Like the Whumps, it was inevitable. Jinx was already distinguishing herself in battle, rumors would spread quickly.

Jinx stayed silent as I continued, "So I want to use what I have. If I can't hide anymore, then I wanna be so flashy that people can't help but want to look at me. That'll be my armor. Boccus is a bastard, but he dresses the way he does for a reason. I need to show off, but not in the way he does it." My voice grew more passionate. "I don't want to do it just for the sake of it. I want to show that I'm marked by the city. And I want everyone to know it."

I couldn't imitate Silco, scowling and sneering at people into submission. I smiled far too much for that. Instead, I needed to lean into it.

People expected Silco's son to be a puffed-up prince of crime?

Fine then, I'll give them a goddamn prince.

I unlocked the chest, opening it with a slow gravitas. Jinx gasped at its treasure, smacking her palms to her cheeks. The chest was made of aged wood. Bits of it splintered at the sides. And the metallic hatch was stained with copper. Inside there were various pens and brushes. A mirror lay alongside a tray of dyes.

I looked at her with steel in my eyes, ready to seal my fate. "Jinx…can you do my makeup?"

"Can I?" she squeaked, a smile covering her face. "Where did you get this anyway?"

"This is Dad's. He's…too busy for me to ask him about it, right now."

It was a bit strange to me, asking my father about makeup of all things. I knew he covered his scar, but I wasn't expecting him to be this prepared. I wasn't too familiar with it in my first life. But in this one, I knew I had some sharp looks. I might as well make use of them.

The Undercity was all about self-expression. This was just another way to express myself.

If it's for the cause…then I'll let my little sister use my face as a canvas.

"You don't gotta be all shy from that," Jinx snickered. She fell to her knees and hands, crawling forward. "It's just some makeup."

"Yeah, well…I have to sell the image. I don't know how to do it on my own, so I'll need your help."

"You're lucky, mister. There's no one else I'd trust to do your makeup but me."

I laughed. "Really? I hardly ever see you wear any." But I did trust her artistic ability. She left drawings everywhere she went. Jinx wasn't Jinx without her patented scribbles.

"I…know a bit," Jinx said. She shook her head and came closer. "Anyway, what do you need me to do?"

"Just around the eyes."

Jinx crouched on the edge of the desk. She looked to the makeup kit, humming as she tilted her head back-and-forth. "That'll be uncomfortable…"

Before I could respond, Jinx leapt from the desk. She landed squarely in my lap, pushing the chair back a bit. Jinx put her hands on my shoulders and leaned in close. I could feel her breath tickle at my lips.

"Hmm." I could almost feel the rumbles against me. Jinx twisted in my lap, cozying herself up. Her legs were spread under the armrests. At this point, she was straddling me. Her thighs rested atop my own.

"…Jinx?"

"What, you want me to stand while I do this?" Jinx scoffed. "Now sit still." She reached behind her, trying to grab at the kit. Jinx's arm flapped uselessly. It was just out of reach. Jinx tsked, instead bucking against me and pushing off the floor. The chair scraped forward, the wood grinding against each other. It took another push and another buck before she reached the kit. "There we go!"

My hands remained where they were, gripped tight around the armrests.

"Okay, lean back. First is the eye lashes."

The back of the chair was high and lush. My weight sunk into it as I leaned back. Jinx pulled the kit to the edge, withdrawing some stick with fuzzy looking ends. My sister rested a hand on my cheek to steady herself. She came in close; we were almost nose to nose. This close to her face, I could make out all the freckles she had. They were concentrated on the bridge of her nose. But there were a few stray ones on her cheeks, under her baggy eyes.

I looked to the hand that held me. There were scraggly white images painted on her black nails.

"Don't move your eyes so much, it looks weird," Jinx said, staring into my eye with determination.

I thought about it for a second before rolling my eyes rapidly in my skull, looking every which way.

It left me disoriented and nauseous, but it was worth it to hear the giggles that followed.

Jinx used the pen to roll my lashes away from my eyes. First the top, then the bottom. The lashes were splayed on both eyes.

It's like they're flower petals…

"There," Jinx declared, putting back the pen and pulling out another.

"Can I see?"

"No! Not until we're done. Make sure not to sneeze," she warned, pulling down my eyelid lightly. "I'm gonna make those pretty blues pop."

Jinx traced the pen around my eye. Despite what I expected, she didn't cover the entire space with eyeliner. The focus was on the top of my eye, but there were only light touches on the lower level. My heartbeat relaxed at her slow ministrations. I untensed myself from the armrests.

"There," Jinx said softly. She snatched a small mirror behind her. "Take a look."

The mirror was held up for me. The black was light, but the further it went away the more it darkened. The top was thicker than the bottom was. It drew attention to my eyes. I ruffled my hair a tad, pulling the white side down.

"It's perfect. Thank you," I said, smiling back at the face in the mirror.

"Do you…" Jinx hesitated, her eyes glancing across my face. "Do you want to do…mine?"

I wonder if…Violet ever did this with her.

My smile turned to a grin. "Why, I thought you'd never ask."

It was now my time to buck forward as I pushed the chair closer. Jinx laughed, grabbing my shoulders to keep from falling off. "Okay! Forget the mascara, make it thick. Gimme racoon eyes!"

"That's pretty thick," I chuckled, reaching around her and groping for the eyeliner.

"I don't care. I want to look like a racoon!"

"I'll see what I can do." I leaned forward. My hand came to her chin, tilting her head up. Jinx looked down with anticipation as I neared her eyes. I was no expert, but I began to apply it around in smooth etches.

It's hard to put into words, just how good it feels with someone's body is pressed against your own. I held her in our sleep, but this felt like the closest we had ever been. There was something different about this that I couldn't articulate. I could feel the warmth against my lap; the weight pressed down on me.

There was a part of me, a very small part of my brain, that asked me a question. That small part broke off from the rest, rebelling against the firing synapses and the fire rushing through my blood. My heart started to race again, as a question popped into my mind,

Is this too much?

I was a very self-aware person. I knew that a position like this could—maybe—be misconstrued. With her legs wrapped around me. Her arms lowered from my shoulders to rest on my chest. The way she smirked with half-lidded eyes…

But of course, they were only lidded because I needed to apply the liner.

I asked myself honestly and realized, no this isn't too much. In fact, there's nothing wrong with this.

Physical affection was my love language. And Jinx was always clingy. She needed that reassurance to know that I was there. My touch grounded her when she couldn't do it herself. It was only natural that there would be a feedback loop between the both of us. Nothing about this scene was any different than our usual ones.

It was normal to see her sitting in my lap.

And so, I silenced that small part of me, letting myself fall back into the warmth. I let myself notice the taste of cavernberry on my little sister's breath. I didn't pull back or push her away. I didn't dare imagine how she would react if I rejected her touch. It would undo the years we spent getting to this point.

We both were comfortable, and that was all that mattered. For this reason, I let myself enjoy the contact. It was a temptatious warmth, like it was begging for more. But I let myself fall into that temptation, like an addict drowning down his last dose. That's what it felt like at this moment.

To me, Jinx was the last cigarette sitting on the car dash.

"There," I heard myself whisper. I blinked, coming back into clarity. "All done."

It wasn't a racoon mask, but it was still darker than mine. I tried to do a parallel of my own, with thick black lines collecting under her eyes. It thinned the further it went out.

She held up the mirror, smiling as she examined herself. "Not too shabby, didn't even have to worry about you poking an eye out."

Jinx came in close, smushing her cheek against my own. Our reflections stared back at us through the mirror.

"We should do this again sometime," Jinx said. "We look pretty darn good."

"...We should." This close, our voices were quiet. I let one of my arms wrap around her waist. Her heart beat against my own. I smiled at the mirror.

"You know," Jinx began lowly, her eyes transfixed on the reflection, "you'd look good in earrings."

I had never considered it.

The door opened before I could respond. Sevika marched through. "Jinx, we gotta—"

Sevika stopped a half-step through the doorway.

Jinx and I stared back at her.

Sevika let out a slow breath, her expression showing a faint disgust. "I don't even want to know."

Jinx rolled her eyes. "Like you'd know anything about makeup anyways," she shot back from my lap.

"I've been looking for you," Sevika said, jutting a thumb over her shoulder. "We gotta move. Now."

Jinx groaned but obeyed, hopping up. "Bye, Vi!" Jinx called, rushing out of the office.

Sevika shook her head as Jinx passed. She raised an eyebrow at me with a look so dry it would rival the Shuriman desert. Sevika muttered under her breath, closing the door behind her.

I thumbed at the lobes of my ears.

"Earrings, huh?"

It was cold in the warehouse. Jinx wiggled her toes in her boots. It felt like her little piggies were turning into little icicles. No matter how tight she laced them, it didn't make it any warmer.

This place was supposed to be used as a freezer. It looked the part with how some of the back rooms were frosted over. Not that she could see much of it. The light was dim and the workers moved in a frantic hurry. All their strung up lights were turned off and space was rapidly being cleared. Dressed in bowler hats and suspenders, these guys were the most muscular bankers Jinx had ever seen.

They must have been real scared someone would catch them before they moved out of the area.

Too bad for them, Jinx was already inside.

Even if she wasn't here, these guys wouldn't get far anyway. They were all marked by their Hush Company tattoos. That branded them as chem-punks belonging to Chross, whether they liked it or not. That meant some in the city would be eager to rat out their location, hoping to earn brownie points with Silco.

"These guys ain't gonna make it that far, though."

Jinx stayed hidden, crouched behind a crate as she was. She snuck a grenade out of her pouch, shaking it with both hands.

"Sevika's gonna be angry…"

Jinx bristled. "Well then she should've caught up," she said in a quiet tone. Jinx peaked around the corner, risking a glance.

There wasn't much left in the way of furniture. The wide ground floor only had stacks of crates left as obstacles. Jinx made note of them and their positions. Most of the punks were on the bottom level, working together to get the crates out. There was only a single spotter on the sparse catwalk above, looking out a window, ready to call if she saw any enemies.

They didn't move the crates all together. Instead, some of them disappeared out of side doors, briefly letting in the lights from outside. But those that left were few and far between.

Perfect.

Jinx closed her eyes and pressed her head against her Racoon grenade. This variation had little nubs to serve as ears, and a swirled-on dark mask that covered little points of orange.

She took a breath, and then twisted the head, throwing it up and behind her.

The bomb bounced against the cold concrete before rolling across the stone. One of the workers glanced down as it hit the back of his foot. Jinx listened until she heard the hiss from the can.

The grenade exploded into blue smoke, pushing the man back as it came out in thick wafts.

"They're here!" Someone exclaimed.

Jinx didn't even have to whistle.

The Whumps knew their cue.

From above and in the corners, where the light was darkest, several other smoke grenades were lobbed out. They exploded only a moment after they hit the floor. Crates were dropped and tossed aside as the already low visibility was smothered by pinks and blues. The warehouse was small enough that it didn't take long for the smoke to spread. Coughs and shouted orders followed as the chem-punks tried to restore order.

Jinx slowly stood up, each hand drawing out a gun.

She marched around her crate with a glare.

Jinx walked up to the first silhouette she found. She bit her lip. It was as simple as pointing to their head and pulling the trigger.

Light sparked through the smoke.

"Over there!"

A man ran towards her, winding up to swing a crowbar down onto her head. She snapped a shot to his shoulder—then another through his face.

"It's just a little girl!" another of the workers roared. "We can take her!"

There wasn't enough here for that.

Jinx took a deep breath through her nose.

She fired off as soon as a silhouette was visible. Another man jumped out of the smoke at her. It was like she was seeing in slow motion. It was easy to tilt her aim up, ever so slightly. The pistol kicked in her hands and another body rolled into the pile.

Jinx stomped through the smoke. An enemy stumbled on a fallen crate before a piece of hot metal ripped through his throat. Jinx's eyes and head jerked around, sending her braid flying as she kept track of the silhouettes.

"Behind you."

Jinx fell to the floor just in time to avoid a wide swing. She elbowed back into the man's crotch as hard as she could, causing him to fold over. Jinx pressed under his chin and fired up, rolling out of the way of the body.

"Ugh," Jinx groaned, shaking a hand slick with blood. There was a dull ringing in her ear from firing so close.

Under the ring, voices clawed at her ear. But she couldn't make out the whispers under the din of the fight.

The noise pounded at her ears with every shot and with every body felled.

"If you move too fast, you just might—"

Her pistols kicked in her hands. The few workers that grew wise to what was happening would try to take the side exits.

The Whumps would take care of those.

A pistol was getting low. Jinx couldn't afford to wait to reload—she threw it to the side, ripping out a Chomper with the same hand and pulling the pin with her teeth. Jinx jumped behind a crate as she sent it into the smoke, landing with a grunt.

Jinx waited for the explosion before she raised her free hand as high as she could.

And then she whistled sharply.

Another pistol spun through the air, smacking into her hand and stinging it in the cold. Jinx fumbled with it for a second before she adjusted her grip.

She smirked.

"Hey, Jinx. I had this idea for a yo-yo…would you be able to help me out?" Vi asked her.

Jinx fired rapidly into the smoke, her breathing starting to pick up. Any shape that seemed even slightly like a threat was shredded into holes.

"Hey, Jinx. Those prototypes you were looking at….how long would it take you to rig one up?" her brother asked her.

A kneecap was shattered with a bullet. A man clutched at it, screaming before he was executed.

The noise continued. She pirouetted and rolled to the crates for cover, her skin scraping against the cold concrete. Jinx didn't bother to reload—she had to do as much damage as fast as possible—it would be over if anyone got to her. Jinx tossed a gun away and took the opportunity to throw another grenade. She whistled again.

"Jinx… I need you to go with Sevika," Silco said.

Again and again, her hands followed the same motions. It was like she was a passenger watching someone else's actions. Shoot, throw, whistle. Not every pistol fell smoothly into her hands. Some slapped against the ground, causing her to rush to snatch them up.

Her fingers alternated in the order they pulled the triggers. The weapons barked in her hands in a steady stream, the vibrations reaching up her arms.

"Jinx…there are some things I need you to take care of," her…father said.

Jinx whistled again, throwing up her hand just in time to steal another that appeared from the darkness. She spun with the gun's momentum, holding the pistol sideways as she fired behind her.

Jinx's chest rose and fell with deep motions.

The spotter fell from the catwalk and crashed into the solid ground. The force of the corpse's fall displaced some of the smoke.

Blissful silence.

Nothing but the heavy sound of her breath.

Powder swallowed, her eyes wide and glancing. Her body shook as the adrenaline left her. The group lay dead at her feet. The thick scent of blood mixed with the sulfur in the smoke, tingling at her nose.

Jinx looked down to her gun. "Man…this would be a lot easier if I could just hold down the trigger." She holstered her gun and put two fingers to her mouth, sounding off a gathering whistle.

"All right, boys! Gather the guns!" Jinx yelled, swiping some pink smoke out of her face. "Silco only let us off with a few of these, and I promised to bring 'em back if I could." She clapped her hands together. "Chop-chop! Move it people, these are expensive!"

Good thing we're inside. Else that gun trick probably wouldn't have worked as well.

The racoons came running, popping out of the shadows and grabbing the guns they found. They tossed them into pouches on their sides and backs.

They also made sure to rip out any gold piercings the chem-punks had, throwing the bloody metal into their bags.

Any rings or chains they could find followed along into the pouches.

Powder shook her arm. There were bruises forming on her shoulder from the constant rolling. Jinx ignored the pain, instead taking out her remaining bombs and placing them at certain points on the ground floor. The girl withdrew a thin grenade filled with Shimmerwine, laying it at the center of the warehouse.

She twisted the cap and backed up, watching as purple sparks lit up at its top like a flare.

"Okay, team, time to skedaddle!"

The Whumps hopped after Jinx as she ran out the building. She pushed a door open and held it out for them. She waited until the entire furry squad was through before slamming the door and running away.

Jinx made it a good bit away before she ran into a crowd of hooligans.

Of course, with Sevika at the head.

"What did you do," Sevika demanded more than asked. Her teeth were bared. "You were supposed to wait for us!"

Jinx shrugged, picking at her ear. "I got bored."

Sevika snarled, her nose flaring as she grabbed Jinx by the scruff and pulled her close. "What the hell do you want me to tell Silco if I find you dead, huh? I spoke up for you because I thought you could handle this!"

"What? You can't even follow simple—"

The windows behind Jinx exploded with pink fire. All other noise fell away in one glorious moment. There were several other detonations that followed, like firecrackers thrown in an oven.

"I handled it," Jinx snickered.

"You weren't supposed to go alone," Sevika growled before she scoffed and pushed her aside. "I knew you'd be a problem," Sevika said under her breath.

JInx turned to the Whumps. They stood in a line, watching the fire rage on with wide eyes. One raised a paw to the sky, letting out a victory screech. The others followed in sync, celebrating the fight and new loot. Two of them hopped around each other, causing the jewelry to jingle in their pouches.

Jinx smiled at the sight.

Silco's men looked on with gaping expressions, eyes filled with horror and uncertainty.

"How old's this kid again?" Chubs muttered to someone in the crowd.

She knew how they would look at her.

They would glance at each other and whisper under their breath. They looked at her like she was a bomb, and that the slightest wrong move would set her off. Those that would know of her would fear catching her attention.

Good.

That was what she wanted. It made them more predictable.

There was only one person whose opinion mattered to her.

Image this, image that. Blah, blah, blah, you'd think that's all they talk about, the amount of times I've heard it.

She knew how people saw her. She knew what she needed everyone unimportant to see.

And so, Jinx let her smile grow. She let her lips pull back into a grin. Jinx stared into the flames as the pink glow swallowed her whole.

The light shone in her eyes.

They wanted a jinx? She'd give 'em a Jinx.

Chapter 18: Mirror Mirror

Jinx canonically likes guys with earrings.

Speaking of canon, it's implied that her voices sometimes help her out in her fights. You can see it when she meets up with Vi and fights the Firelights.

The fight scene this chapter is supposed to be less clear than the other ones so far.

Gonna try to finish this arc next chapter, but more than likely I may need two. We'll see.

Thanks for reading!

Better Than You

Chapter Notes

For context for the AN, there was a bit of a delay in writing this chapter.

Being sick sucks, but I'm starting to get better. Thank god for modern medicine.

Not completely satisfied with this chapter. I can probably blame it on not being at 100%, but still, open to concrit. I figured it was better to put out something than just keep looking at it. Perfection being the enemy of good and all that.

Clothes made the man. It was especially true in Zaun. It was how you could tell a native from a Topsider, how you could get an idea of someone's status. It wasn't even what you wore, but how you wore it.

We favored earthy browns and dark colors, with most of our clothes being patched with homemade stitches. A call back to our history as workers. It was obvious then, why Silco presented himself with a suit. And of the status quo that permeated our culture.

But that culture was changing.

Maybe it was the money cycling in, I preferred to think it was inevitable, but people were expressing themselves more openly than in generations past. There were a myriad of styles that people showed off nowadays. There would always be the gutter muck who were dressed in the drab brown, but even they defined themselves by cybernetics or tattoos.

I once saw a gang dressed as punk rockers, all spikes and studded leather, looking a hair-trigger away from throwing an impromptu concert and screaming about fighting the power. Not that I disapproved, of course.

Come to think of it, I mused, stepping over a puddle, the rise in self expression probably goes hand-in-hand with the rise of costumed gangs.

So it wasn't entirely unexpected to see someone dressed a little funny.

I liked to think I cut a rather distinct figure, however.

I kept a smile on my face as I sauntered through the alleys. A drunk eyed me as I passed. I made sure to keep him in my awareness, giving him just enough attention to prove I wasn't an easy mark. He went back to sleep as I turned the corner.

It took some funds to make a suit of this quality, but I considered it a worthy investment.

I had returned from the Promenade, wearing my prized commission. A suit undershirt of black, pressed, with not a single crease or a ruffle out of place. A blood red tie, stuffed under a vest, the buttons of which were also red. One side of the vest was black, the other white, asymmetric with my hair. It ended at a tight belt that held together black pants that allowed for smooth movements of my legs. I could kick high, and the fabric would stretch alongside the motions.

I would look stylish, and not lose out on fighting ability. I wasn't restrained in the slightest as I'd expect from a normal suit.

My fingers flexed in my gloves. I made sure to add it to the commission, taking into account my string work. All the constricting in my fingers probably wouldn't be good in the long run. It reminded me of this one time I saw an X-ray of a professional yo-yo player's hands. Their circulation in the hands were completely cut off. The gloves should be thick enough to add some protection, while still being thin enough for me to manipulate the thread with ease.

And to complete the outfit…

I reached a gloved hand to my ear, rolling a piece of metal around in two fingers. In both ears were studs, a bright powder blue that went with my eyes. It was a splash in the sea of monochromes and reds.

Jinx talked me into it.

My two-tone shoes clicked against the stone, polished to perfection. The white portion of the shoes would probably become stained with grime and dirt, but that was fine.

That, too, was part of the plan.

It wasn't like what Piltover did, who were afraid to dirty their priceless clothes, who wore masks when they came down. There was something to be said by letting my shoes get dirty. It showed that I wasn't above it all—that I was just as willing to wade into the muck as the rest of us.

Even with the fancy clothes, I was a Zaunite to the core.

I'm even wearing red socks, I thought in amusement. I am nothing if not committed to a theme.

Truthfully, there was a part of me that was uncomfortable with the display of wealth. I favored suits, but this was more flashy than my regular style. I was lucky enough to not live in squalor in the Undercity, but not everyone had that choice. Already, the disparity of wealth was changing. The 'haves' like Boccus were showing off to the 'have-nots.'

But compared to Topside, we were all have-nots.

So I would make use of these clothes, as I had said to Jinx, without complaint. If even an old bat like Wencher was taking advantage of the changing culture, then I would make sure we wouldn't be left behind. By the time I was done, no one would be able to look away from me.

Besides, wearing a fresh pair of high-quality clothes, and knowing you looked great in it? It was hard not to be a bit cocky from that.

The bell tittered as I opened the door

I took a second to take in the scent of fresh chocolate being chem-pressed in the back. There was that distinct smell that all sugar shops had, like of almonds and vanilla, that managed to push through even Zaun's ever present air. It was a welcome reprieve. The air was just a bit less sour.

"You in, Granny?" I asked, closing the door behind me.

I received no response as I made my way to the counter. Gutsy stood behind it, staring down with a glassy look in her eyes. Immediately, my good cheer left me. My eyes narrowed as I observed her. There was a slight sway in her shoulders, back-and-forth, but her hands shook.

"Granny?"

"Granny," I tried more firmly, snapping my fingers.

Gutsy blinked, coming into focus. "Oh, Vivek! When did you come in?"

I gave a hesitant smile. "Just now. I was in the area and thought I'd check up on you. I'm going to be busy for a bit, so I wanted to take the opportunity. Are you…alright?"

That wasn't normal behavior.

It went without saying, but I didn't expect it of her. Far as I knew, it wasn't old age either. She never showed any signs similar to that. Gutsy had been a fixture in my life for as long as I could remember. It was hard for me to imagine that now all of a sudden the effects of old age would start to hit her.

But like she said before, sometimes these things just happen.

Gutsy waved it off. "Oh I'm fine, just a spell—more importantly! Look at you!" She reached over, running a hand through my hair as a smile bloomed across her lips. "You've grown so pretty! And is that makeup I see? The best of both your parents. Oh, I just know your mother would be proud."

"I…thank you, Granny." I was a bit put off at the mention of my mother. But I suppose given the context it made sense. I grabbed her hand in a soft grip, resting it on the counter as I held it.

I could feel the tremors through her bones.

"Granny," I began, "you know, if you need anything, anything at all, all you have to do is ask, right? You've looked after me since I was young. To me, you are my grandmother. The only one I've ever known. You know that, right?"

Something was clearly wrong here. And it was starting to worry me.

Gutsy squeezed back, smiling and revealing her raised, puffy eyes. "You're sweet, Vivek. You've always been sweet. But I'll be okay." She laughed. "Vienna would always try to look after me as well."

I frowned.

That's too blatant.

Why is it that every time I offer her help, she mentions my mother?

Because she knows it throws me off.

Come to think of it, she did that last time I was here too…

There was something here that was hard for me to reconcile with Granny Gutsy. That I tried not to draw too much attention to internally. It was the reason this was picked as the first route to learn when I started drug running.

Gutsy was one of our customers.

I hoped that maybe she just distilled some of the chemicals for use in the sweets. But truthfully…with the amount she received, Silco wouldn't let her sell something like that without us receiving a cut. And we didn't, I would know if we did. I doubted she was just passing the drugs out. As strange as it felt for me to admit, more than likely, this little old lady was using them.

I considered our interactions the last time I was here.

Is this…withdrawals?

But the last delivery would have been a few days ago at most. Could her tolerance have grown so much? She was also older, her immune system weaker. Add in a lifetime in Zaun, it wasn't a good combination.

An idea to help popped into my head. It was disgusting to consider, but I didn't want her to suffer.

With her hand in mine, when she couldn't run away, I asked, "Granny, do you need an early shipment?" Her eyes widened, hand squeezing.

Bingo.

I let her withdraw her hand as she took a step back. "Sweetie, that's—that's not something you need to concern yourself with."

"Actually, I'd say it does." I leaned across the counter. "We have a rigid schedule, I'm the only one that can bend it for you. If you're hurting…I don't want you to go to the street trash if you have to. Besides, mixing the strains could be dangerous. It's better if you get it from the same source."

I asked one more time, just to be sure, "This is the problem, right?"

Gutsy wouldn't look at me. One of her hands wrung at her wrist. "...Yes," she said quietly.

Gently, I put a hand on her shoulder. "I can help you out, but you have to be careful…okay? It's like a sugar rush, can't have too much at one time."

"I'm not a child, Vivek," Gutsy said, a bit of steel entering her voice. "I've been dealing with these things for far longer than before you were even born."

I blinked. It was the most bite I had ever heard from her. "I—right. Sorry, Granny. I'm just...worried is all."

Gutsy hesitated for a moment before giving me a sad smile, her lips twitching. "I know, Darling. But you don't have to worry about me. I made it this far, after all. I would…appreciate your help. But I'll handle the rest. I know you have your own business to worry about."

"Are you sure? I can spare some time? I'm not that hard-pressed."

Gusty waved a wrinkly hand at me. Her tattooed skin seemed to drip ink as the flesh sagged. "I can handle things here," Gutsy scoffed. "Go show off your new suit. I know you're looking forward to it. And give Jinx my love on your way out."

It felt wrong to me, discussing drugs with her with the same ease as the weather. Maybe it shouldn't be. It wasn't like I was unaware, I used to deliver to her directly. It just felt…strange to me, in a way I couldn't put into words.

"Just leave it to me, Granny."

What happened with Princess?

I wanted to ask her, but I stopped myself. I could spare a few moments of my time, but I did have a date to catch. I could always bring it up later.

At the same time, this situation left me feeling…uncomfortable.

It felt like there was a knot in my chest. Like every thought I gave to it caused it to grow, to coil and tighten all the more. And I didn't want to spend the time untangling it just yet. I couldn't afford to be too off balance for my meeting with Boccus.

And so I gave my goodbyes to Gutsy with a promise of regular checkups. I left the sweet smells and warmth to the sour smoke and damp breeze. Puddle water smacked against my shoe as I rushed through the alley. I wasn't in as good of a mood as before, but that was okay.

I still had a job to do.

So I let myself fall into the comfort of the clothes. I would work through the knot later. I focused on how the fabric hugged my body like a second skin.

Drug addiction is a growing problem. Maybe I can…curtail it some?

Within acceptable parameters, of course. I wouldn't suddenly go back on my part in this just because I felt bad about it. That would be a betrayal of everything I was.

But still, there were ways to use my influence for good that would also further the cause.

They were thoughts for later however, as I let everything else fall away. Future plans would stay in the future until I ensured I made it through the current challenge.

It was time to put the outfit to good use.

"You wanted to see us?"

Deckard stood with crossed arms, the rest of the squad arrayed behind him. We were in a side room in a nondescript building. I seemed out of place with the stained walls and leaky ceilings. The building seemed to fold into itself, the distant smell of mold hiting my nose. Even the sturdy architecture of Zaun couldn't stand up to constant water damage.

I wiped a finger across a wall, observing the dirt that collected at the tip of the glove. "I did." I rubbed my fingers together, dispersing the dirt. "There's something I need to ask of you."

The goons glanced at each other, but Deckard didn't look back. His posture relaxed slightly, an expression of annoyance covering his face. "Okay? Consider it done. You really gotta bring us all the way out here for that, all dressed-up?"

"By the way, what do you think?" I asked suddenly, resting a hand on my hip. "Dressed to kill?"

"Uh...yeah. Lookin' good boss," Deckard said, uncrossing his arms. "Right guys?"

A quick show of nods and agreements followed.

Hm.

"There is a reason for isolating you. You and the gang were the first to work under me. As far as others are concerned, ostensibly, your success is tied to mine." I stood proud, but I made sure to keep my hands in front of me. I didn't want to give an impression of a Piltovan noble, lording my power over them.

"There's something I need you to do for me, but it's dangerous. It'll probably even cost your life. I wanted to offer you the chance to refuse in private."

Honestly, I didn't need this group in particular to do it. I might even be able to get away with just using the Whumps as a replacement. But it was important to sell the image I was crafting. And Deckard was the first to enter my sphere of influence. To some extent, I did owe him the opportunity.

Deckard scowled at me, taking a step forward. "You're asking us? How the hell is this any different than the rest of the shit we do? Just tell us what to do and go about your day!"

I smirked. It had been some time since he spoke to me like that.

"Believe it or not, my father wouldn't send you on a suicide mission." He probably would if it came down to it. "I would like to follow the same mindset. Loyalty is important. But that's no reason to throw your lives away. Not when there's no other option." I made sure to keep my eyes trailed on his

"You could just order us," Deckard said.

I nodded. "I could. But in this case, I strongly believe that you should have the choice to decline. In the future, I could lead you and your men to death in conflicts much larger than just Boccus and his lackeys. There's a reward for this job, but I want you to go in knowing you could die. And when you survive, I want you to know it was because you followed my orders to the letter. And you'll know you'll be better prepared for the future risks."

"That's your pitch? You might die, but you might just die later as well?" Deckard scoffed.

"We both know the underground doesn't deal in absolutes. Tomorrow is never promised. I, at least, am not going to take it for granted. You don't have to share my views, but I'm going to spend the time I have fighting for a better Zaun. And if that leads to a richer Zaun?" I shrugged. "Well, then all the better."

There was a thought that I didn't have to deal with this group. Deckard was right in that I could just give an order and call it a day. Why even go out of my way for this seemingly insignificant gathering of goons?

It's because they weren't insignificant. Not a single one of them.

If I was to be their leader, then just like the Whumps, I needed to lift them up. Their lives weren't lesser because they lacked importance. Even if I had to offer their lives to the altar of the cause, that didn't mean they were just a statistic to be brushed aside. That's what people like Smeech, like Boccus, didn't understand.

Those thoughts were the thoughts of the oppressors.

This was to be my framework to true loyalty. Not just fear, or carrot and stick, but the seed that would lead to love and respect.

Our silence was broken by one of the gang speaking up. "...I think we should at least hear 'em out, Deckard," Tachy, the one with the shaved head, said.

"The rest of you interested?" Deckard asked, glancing back. He sighed at the approvals that followed. Deckard did his best to firm up for his gang, crossing his arms again and steeling his gaze at me. "What's the reward?"

"I'm being trusted to handle Boccus as I see fit," I responded immediately. "That also means I can within reason manage his assets once we have them. He's not the highest on the totem pole, but an info broker's connections are nothing to scoff at. Help me out with this, and I'll make sure you guys get first pick of all the leftover goodies."

Deckard hesitated. I could see the corner of his jaw flex.

"We'll do it!" Tachy said, jumping up. Several other goons followed him up.

"We haven't even heard anything yet, you idiot!" Deckard said, shoving him back down. He huffed, turning back to me. "But….yeah."

I didn't bother to hide my smile. I knew I had him. Even if he somehow wasn't interested, he wouldn't say no if the rest of his gang were pushing for it. This would be my test. As much as the Whumps were a force multiplier, I couldn't rely on them for every little thing. I was—would—be responsible for far more than just them and Jinx. I was primed to be in a leading position in the revolution. And in the future. Far, far, off into the future, I would have to be ready for what came after the fight. For the nation that would be built.

I needed to learn to be a leader of men. I had some ideas, and I would probably fail at a few of them. But that was okay, that was expected, I had the time to figure it out.

"What do you need us to do?"

The preparations were complete. All that was left was to take the gamble. If I wanted to be pretentious, I could say whatever happened today would decide my destiny.

Is this how Boccus felt before he killed my Whumps?

But obviously, it wasn't that important. I could die any other time. Today was nothing special. He wasn't even a Baron, let alone Piltover. Just another roadblock in my way. Only one of us would leave that club. Either way, I had every intention of walking out.

Debauchery And Delights wasn't opened to the public tonight, but guards still stood outside the building, more than the usual amount. Where the line would be was instead taken up by a loose row of suited bouncers eyeing me as I approached. If the glares didn't reveal that they knew me, the glances at my hair did. The club was lit under the shadow of Old Hungry; It was the brightest building for several blocks.

"I'm expected," I said to the approaching guards.

"You are," one of them replied. His eyes narrowed at me. "The boss received your message. He's waiting on the top floor. You'll need to relinquish your weapons."

"Very well," I said in amusement, slowly swooping out my arms. I let the guard get close and pat me down. He checked my body for any hidden pouches or concealed implements. He let me keep the watch on my wrist. The bouncer grabbed around my waist, one hand reaching for the gun, and the other my yo-yo. This close, I could smell the Shimmerwine on his breath. See how it would be absorbed into his unkempt beard as he drank.

The bouncer was hunched slightly as he pulled up the gun. His eyes—brown, now that I was this close—didn't move away from my own as my weapons were slowly taken from me. He didn't blink, but one of his eyes twitched.

Oh, I see.

And then the moment was over, the man stuffing the gun and yo-yo into his coat.

"Right, I'm taking you to the boss," he said. He gestured with his head to the front of the door. "Clear the way!"

Time would show if I was right or not.

I followed the brown-eyed bouncer into the club. It was empty of any customers, only the direct employees of Boccus remained. The lights remained blue. There were no waiters, but a few bartenders remained. The place was packed with bouncers, sitting at bar stools or standing with nervous energy.. Given the way some of them picked at their suits, it wasn't something they wore often.

They moved out of the way as we pushed through the dance floor. No one said anything, but I could feel the looks some of them sent my way.

Is this the rest of his manpower?

If so, then he must have just grabbed whoever he had left and stuffed them into the uniform. Boccus turtled up the more we pushed. It was understandable, but it felt like a dragon protecting its hoard.

The suited thugs glared at me as I was escorted across the dance floor. All the blue mixed with the glares and hunched postures gave me the impression of sharks sniffing for blood.

Good. That was a nostalgic scene. I missed the office under the warehouse.

The time for careful movements and wringing hands was over. I had to be bold. A statement needed to be made. Everyone needed to understand that I was my father's son in more than just name.

No music played as I ascended the metal steps. The way the building was designed, the silence left a faint ringing in my ears. My footsteps on the glass filled the quiet as I was led to the same room I had met Boccus in as before. The guard opened the door for me, giving me a lingering look, before he shut it behind me.

Boccus poured a glass of something red. "Wine?" He didn't look too much worse for wear. A bit deeper bags under his eyes, a slight more strain, but that was all. Dressed the same as before, the same chains and the same fur coat.

"No, thank you," I replied, taking a seat across from him. Enemy he may be, I enjoyed the couches. "No bird?"

Boccus shook his head, placing down the pitcher. "I thought it best not. Treasure is best unscuffed. And you? No sister?"

"I thought it best not," I threw his words back at him. I lounged on the couch uncaringly, resting my head on a gloved fist. "I was surprised you accepted this meeting."

"As was I!" Boccus laughed. "I didn't expect a message to come from the tubes from you of all people. I am eagerly awaiting to see how you attempt to kill me."

"You know, you could have had me killed at the door."

Boccus nodded solemnly. "True. It would probably be the wisest move. But as I said, I would like to humor this."

Because you're arrogant.

"You know," I began, "it would've been easy to just firebomb this place. Something I've realized in this short conflict is that you don't leave this place. From what I can tell, all of your business was conducted through this club, wasn't it?" Boccus didn't respond, instead taking a sip of wine.

I continued, "Frankly, it's stupid that I'm here. I fully admit that. I sent the offer of a meeting knowing you would accept. I have responsibilities. It's not fair of me to just throw my life away on a whim." I blessed him with a smile. "But at the same time, I am allowed some degree of selfishness. You know the history of my father and Vander. When they met again. At any time he could've put a bullet in his brain, instead he drew it out. He took his time and did it the way he wanted. I certainly don't have that kind of relationship with you. But if my father can do it, aren't I allowed the same level of selfishness? You said it yourself, what kind of man would I be if I didn't look my enemy in the eye?"

That's what I was working with. Silco would probably be angry if he knew I was in the belly of the beast like this. But we were rapidly approaching the point where I lost the training wheels. As long as I didn't do anything too stupid, he couldn't complain much beyond parental worry.

"Done with your tantrum?" he asked me.

I scoffed.

Boccus hummed, swirling his glass. "Then you too, are humoring this. I may be biased, but I say you embrace the selfishness!" He held up the glass to me. "Don't let anyone, not even your father, decide your life! You want to live? Live! You want to kill? Kill! Take from your enemies and claim it as your own. That is how I've lived my life, and I have not regretted it once!"

Spoken like someone who always put himself first. I brought my hands together. But still, hearing it from him, it left me feeling…

"I'm surprised. I thought you'd be more bitter towards me. Your assets are burning down around you, your allies are abandoning you. Even if you manage to kill me, your fate is sealed." Silco would never let it go. God forbid what Jinx would do.

"Is that what you believe then, fate?" Boccus asked out of nowhere, studying me with a gimlet eye. "But no, I have every intention of killing you, your father, your sister, Chross for cutting me dry, and any others who come into my way. Will I fail?" He shrugged his shoulders. "Possibly, but we won't know if I don't try. This is my home, my people. I refuse to run away from it like scum. Where would they be without me?"

I was getting a better impression of the kind of man that he was. Boccus wasn't a full coward. If nothing else, he was committed to himself. I wanted to point out the hypocrisy I was seeing, but I would save my anger. There would be time for it soon.

"...It's not that I believe in fate. I want to live as free as the wind. It's just that I know where the wind is blowing. But It doesn't matter in the end. We all have our reasons for doing what we do. To pretend otherwise is sophistry."

"Sophistry?" Boccus laughed, pointing a finger at me. "Now that's a word, my friend. Are you sure you're from down here?"

"I am. Call it a product of a childhood spent reading too much poetry," I said. A fond smile pulling at my lips.

My enemy shook his head. "Spoiled then. Now it makes sense. Children should spend their time with each other. Not off reading poetry of all things. Can you say you have truly lived if you haven't even fought in the mud with your friends by your side?"

I didn't respond to that. I let him draw whatever conclusion he had about me.

"You know," Boccus said, leaning back in his seat, "I had so many things I thought to ask you. But now that you're here, I find myself not caring."

I hummed, making a show of pulling down my sleeve and revealing a clockwork watch. "Is that so?" There were no numbers, instead a set of twelve numericals. The smallest hand ticked ever so close to the numerical designating 12:AM.

Boccus tensed at the sight. "Is there…somewhere you have to be?"

"Well, since you didn't bother to fix Old Hungry, I needed a way to keep track of the time," I said, keeping my eyes on the watch.

Any…second.

"I'm not unsympathetic to you and your plight," I said, glaring up at him. "I understand wanting to protect your community. And I get being stuck under Chross. But I don't think it was about the community. That's just a pretense. It was always about you, and your interests."

Boccus' grin took on a sharp edge. "Says the son of the richest Baron who grew up alone and protected! Tell me, how does it feel to wear that suit that costs more than most of our fellows will ever have?"

It was something that had been bouncing in my head like the most chaotic game of ping pong ever concocted. Ever since the idea popped into my mind, I was considering the moral ramifications of it. And I planned to take it further still. The piece wasn't finished just yet.

Sometimes, it felt like I was losing my mind. I could barely put it into words, barely put it into writing. Jinx was the only one who would understand my thought process. It was a buzzing in my brain as I entered a fugue state and all else fell away. I could explain a thousand times the reasons why I was doing the things I was doing. But I could never articulate the true passion that I felt burning in my soul. The heat that scared away the cold winter day and made it easier to breathe.

Sometimes, It left me so excited, I felt like it would bring me to tears.

I did it because I believed in it.

"It feels incredible," I said with not an inch of hesitation in my voice. "The suit is made to my exact specifications. It's warm yet at the same time breathy. I can fight in it with ease. The stitching is hand-done and reinforced. The inner and outer shells of fabric lined with poro hair. I'm not looking forward to covering such a work of art with your blood. But that's okay, I've got several others waiting for me. As for my fellow brothers and sisters of Zaun, the fight hasn't even begun yet. And yet we're still seeing growth and improvement. All that I do is for the betterment of the city."

My heart started to race, it would be any moment now.

"But unlike you, I'll let my actions prove my words. I'll prove that I'm the better option," I finished.

I stared resolutely at him. Boccus glared back.

Nothing happened.

…Jinx?

Boccus sighed through his nose, placing his glass of wine on the table. I forced myself to not glance at my watch. A surge of panic rushed through me. It wasn't like her to not deliver, especially not for something this critical. I licked the back of my teeth, motions slow enough to not be noticed, to blow off some of the anxiety I was feeling. I was worried, but Jinx wasn't the kind of person to die in a place like this.

"Were you expecting something to happen?" Boccus asked with a furrowed brow. He grabbed the insides of his coat. "I feel I can put some things together. I am quite good at my job, you know? I'm sure I have better security than you would expect. I told you of my menagerie, yes?" Boccus leaned close, his voice dropping as if to tell a secret. "Did I tell you about Piotr? He is a gator from the swamps of Shurima. Recently, he's become accustomed to an Undercity diet. He's quite fond of—"

The lights slammed to a pink.

Guards jumped up from their seats, looking around and grabbing bottles or the batons some had on their sides.

"This is your plan. Take over my light system?" Boccus glared. Slowly, he began to take off his fur coat. I didn't bother to follow along and pull up my sleeves. I would need that extra layer of protection for what happened next.

"There's something else I learned about how you do things, Boccus. I have to thank Mack—not that'd you even care to remember his name—for pointing it out for me. The workers here, the majority in this community. Their employment is all tied to one thing…"

Inside a building, it began to rain. Sweet Shimmerwine fell in purple droplets. Under the colored light, it may as well have been water for as much as you could tell the difference. With less stimulus than before, the sweet smell was readily apparent in the air, wafting up to the second floor.

"They're all under debt slavery."

One of the bouncers turned on another, suddenly jackhammering a knife into the other's heart. That was the cue for the chaos to begin.

Another was tackled into the corner of a glass table. Suits were swiftly opened up, buttons popping off in the process to denote allegiance. Fists went flying as bodies pushed against each other in a mad scramble for control. Like a warped mirror of the usual party goers as the dance floor was bloodied. People struggled to make sense of what was happening as they suddenly found themselves in the middle of a brawl.

And that's Deckard's part done.

There were fallback plans in case things went wrong, but you couldn't plan for everything. Honestly, it was a gamble if it would work. But if at least one of them turned, then in the heat of the moment, others would surely follow. It would at least buy me some time. It was dangerous work, hunting down people individually and proving that their debts were about to be void. At least it was easier getting them to stay silent if they refused to play ball.

It was a risk, but one I thought was worth taking.

"So that's it then? You've bought my men, bought their contracts?" Boccus asked. He was deathly still, only the twitch around his nose showing his displeasure.

"I promised to destroy their contracts," I corrected. "Everyone knows you won't last long. And soon, Chross won't be here to enforce them either. I'll inherit all that you have left." I waved a hand. "I don't need your chains holding me down. If I want someone to owe me, It'll be from a clean slate. I'll do a much better job than you ever will. I didn't buy your men, I just laid out the facts. I took away your stick and gave them a choice."

And they came to me over you.

I gazed at the brawl occurring on the first floor. Well, at least a good majority did.

Boccus licked his lips. The man's arms were tense with barely restrained violence. He said, voice low in the back of his throat, "So this was your play? Then…I think we have said all we need to say, no?"

"Please wait a moment." With a playful motion I held up a finger. I took joy in the way his nose flared like a bull. I took my time to pull down my sleeve, examining the wristwatch. "You said something in our first meeting that caught my attention."

Almost exactly five minutes. Whumps for the love of god, do not let me down now.

I crossed one leg over the other and gave him my best smirk. "You said you reuse the glass from bottles, didn't you? In case you weren't aware, the bottles down here? It's made deliberately cheap for quick consumption. I respect the hustle, but if this is the same glass…then it has the same weaknesses."

Boccus' eyes widened, he immediately understood.

"That means it's weak to a rapid change in temperature."

I knew well what it took to break this kind of glass. Add in Shimmer, let alone Shimmer mixed with alcohol? There was only one way this was going to end.

"YOU!—" Boccus attempted to rise but was knocked back by the resounding explosion. I was rocked in my seat, the noise screaming in my ear. There was a crash as one of the far walls caved in. A few of the glass rooms shattered from the impact, but ours was too close to the center to feel the full impact.

The fight on the first floor stumbled for a second before they were right back to it.

Shimmer Fire sparked from the wall. It quickly grew, forming a ring around the dance floor and climbing the walls. Even with the floors slick with wine, it would take time to spread across the glass.

The purple rain would help me with that.

"You fool!" Boccus exclaimed, standing up. "The doors are barred!"

I followed along, all pleasantries gone at this point. "What? It never occurred to you that you were sitting in your own glass coffin, you arrogant bastard!"

"Would you kill yourself just to get at me!?"

"It's worth the risk! I came here by myself for a reason, asshole!"

We were interrupted from our brief shouting match by the brown-eyed guard. He rushed into the room, yanking the door open, my gun already in his hands. My eyes widened. Boccus and I had the same reaction as we tried to dive down.

"Gah!" Only for Boccus to take a shot in his shoulder.

"Here!" With his other hand, the guard threw the yo-yo my way. I pushed off the floor, lunging forward to catch it.

Boccus shoved up the glass table, ignoring the spilled wine as he jumped under its cover. I swiftly began to wrap the string around my finger as the guard continued to shoot. The corner of the table exploded. Snow-like fractals spread throughout it that continued to grow with each shot.

I could make out Boccus crawling behind the glass. He grabbed the now empty pitcher and flung his meaty arm over. The pitcher was large, and it was a small room, it nailed the guard right in the face, shattering into shards.

Taking his chance, Boccus vaulted over the table, roaring as he held his broken wine glass. With but a few quick stomps, he was in front of the guard who's name I didn't know, shoving the glass into his throat, spilling it as red as wine.

"Fuck!" I finished tying the string, watching as Boccus caught the gun that fell from the corpse's limp hands. I rolled as he began to fire, replacing his position and hiding behind the table.

The glass next to my head punched forward, narrowly missing my ear and almost giving me an early haircut.

"Did you tell the men you would burn them alive!" Boccus asked between shots.

I twisted the yo-yo to its first configuration. "I told them I would take down the club by any means necessary!"

"So you omitted it then!"

I glanced back with a glare. The table wouldn't hold for long.

The room is small.

I have to wind up for a swing.

I can't risk being shot.

He can reach over the table if he gets closer.

But I can cut him if he gets closer.

I caught a warped flash in the reflection in front of me. An idea came to mind.

I kicked off the table, staying low to the ground as I gave myself space. I used the faint reflection in the glass wall as my north star. I swung my arm up, aiming the yo-yo above and behind me. It arced towards Boccus' center of mass, saw blades spinning.

Boccus dodged.

The yo-yo cracked into the glass wall, half of the blade sinking fully into it. The glass was thick enough I would have to wiggle it out if I wanted to grab it. It was effectively useless to me, using it as I had been.

That was exactly what I wanted.

The string was still extended to my hand, pulled taut to my finger. I didn't give Boccus time to recover. I grabbed the string with my other hand and pulled as hard as I could, putting my entire upper body weight into it.

The string was yanked out of the yo-yo, and I could hear the click that followed.

The secondary mechanism triggered as I covered my head and ears as quickly as I could, curling up into a ball.

The bomb inside my yo-yo exploded, and my world shattered into a thousand tiny pieces.

Chapter 19: Better Than You

In an ideal world I would do more to explore Boccus and his motivations. But being realistic, he's pretty much an OC, and I have SO MUCH to work with already. So many characters and developments I want to work through. Like Vivek said, he was always just a roadblock.

Actually, my original intention was to have him be like a physical representation of Old Hungry. This gaping maw that seemed to gobble everything up, that everything was in the shadow under. But as fun as that would be, I think It's better if I focus on how Vivek sees Boccus and how it impacts him long-term. I'll go into more of my thoughts next chapter once things are finished.

Next, we see what Jinx has been up to and wrap up this arc.

Thank you for reading!

The Answer is No

Chapter Notes

We have finally CAUGHT UP to QQ. Now the next chapter will come whenever it's done.

Which is tomorrow.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Sewage splattered as Jinx hopped off the ladder. She wiped the flakes of rust off on her pants, barely giving her surroundings a second glance. The barrel vaulted ceiling was made of brick and not of metal, a sight that was growing rarer by the day. Water followed at her side, trash and waste getting stuck between drains. The less said about the smell the better.
"Like a bag of vomit left to sun-dry then lit on fire and blasted in my face," Jinx said, pinching her nose. Her gait didn't slow however.
Vi was relying on her.
Even as she walked, Jinx kept track of the time in the back of her head, counting down the minutes. She was on a mission. Not even the idiot muscle up top was able to slow her down. None of them were packing too much heat, and even if they did happen to have a gun, they couldn't react to her fast enough. Jinx had handed off some incendiaries to the Whumps before she split with them, heading down to the buildings attached below.
Who'd have thought the sprinkler system was hooked up next to the sewers. She saw people lick that stuff up!
Blegh.
The furry little monsters were great for stuff like this. It was thanks to them that they found the Shimmerwine supply in the first place. The club let it rain purple way too often for the supply to be neatly stacked in some back room.
A little bit of racoon subterfuge later, following pipes and trailing workers when they prepared the rains, and soon the lower level was discovered tucked away in a nondescript side building.
Jinx had an almost literal pep in her step as the brick seemed to bounce under feet, despite the slimy surface coating it.
The tunnel widened the further she went. There weren't any guards to slow her down, not that she was expecting too many, but it was still a surprise to not see any once she was below ground. After a short sprint, Jinx found herself at the tunnel's exit.
It was still the sewers, but the area was expanded massively in comparison. The ceiling was several dozen meters high, with the walls even longer. The room was split into two. The side Jinx was on was raised, a crooked iron guardrail overlooking the other side, preventing anyone from falling into the waters below. The water was still and deep. A large pool that made up the other half of the room. It was thick and green from sludge, almost dark in color as chunks of something pooled together. Slimed crawled up the concrete desperate to escape.
To her right was another room that was cut into the bricks. Its windows revealed a rudimentary console that she could figure out faster than lighting up a firework.
Jinx took it all in with a glance as she left the tunnel. There was another person in the room that turned around at her approach. A worker with wet overalls that carried two buckets filled with something that looked like meat.
"You're not…the next shift?" he asked cautiously. His arms started to tense for more reasons than the heavy buckets he was carrying.
"He's not a threat."
The whisper passed by Jinx's ear like a summer wind, warm and comforting in its embrace.
"Sorry, bucko," Jinx said, not even slowing as she snapped out her gun. Brain matter splattered across the rock, dripping down the crevices between the bricks. The buckets fell and raw meat was tossed out.
She was used to ignoring those whispers by now.
"You were born a killer."
With a twirl the gun was holstered. The room was silent except for the far-off noise of rushing water and the ever-present hum of machinery. Even with the still water, It wasn't too weird to see a room like this. The sewers shifted in whatever strange ways it wanted to. It was why they liked using them as the bases for the Whump rings. It was easy to—
The hum was growing louder.
No, Jinx thought, slowly turning around, that's not a hum. That's a rumble…
From the pool of water, a low growl spread. To her ears, it was like a sputtering engine. It was muffled by the water, but Jinx could hear it even from her raised position. The pool vibrated at the noise, sludge breaking apart and even popping like bubbles. The noise grew, and she could start to feel it in her bones.
With careful movements, Jinx grabbed the gun and took a slow step back.
The water burst open, sludge and slime flying every which way. A large black shape lunged at her, but Jinx could only make out the rows upon rows of crooked teeth. She jumped to the side immediately with a yelp, letting the shape slam into the wall with a crash.
It shook off the impact and turned to the worker's corpse, greedily gobbling it up with messy bites.
"Ugh." Jinx watched in disgust as she examined the creature. It chomped down, splattering the corpse and getting the meat stuck in its numerous teeth. The bone grew into each other, the mouth not able to hold them all as they folded and bent together. Its scales were a dark green, bumpy and thick with four legs and a tail. Purple lines ran through the length of it. Claws were twisted and malaligned, every step would have brought pain. As it finished its meal, its head snapped to Jinx.
Bulbous stilted eyes twitched manically, purple veins pulsing as it focused on its next prey.
They had given a gator Shimmer.
Jinx looked between the gator and buckets, quickly realizing what she had interrupted. The purple blazed in the room. It made her throat clench and her grip tighten. Her heartbeat quickened as every part of her screamed at her to move.
It was fear. But it wasn't the fear of death that scared her, or the fear of getting hurt. The time was still being tracked. Just like before, right when she was needed the most…
"I'm not letting you make me late!" Jinx screamed, firing off her pistol. The gator bellowed in response.
The bullets bit into the beast one after the other, the noise matching every step it took towards her. It had a lumbering stride, almost hopping from one foot to the next as it shifted its weight unevenly in a rush.
The hide's too tough, Jinx noted, rolling just as the gator snapped its jaws at her. There was an unpleasant sound as its teeth slammed together. Jinx withdrew a Mouser bomb with a glare. Bullets punctured though the beast, but only barely, the scales were rough and crowded.
The pin was pulled. She didn't get a moment to rest as the gator hopped towards her, each stomp she could feel through the ground. The beast didn't change its strategy, simply attempting to rush and bathe its teeth in her blood. Whatever rudimentary hunting instinct it once had was dulled by the Shimmer.
Jinx put her back to the water, pressing up against the guard rail. She tapped her foot impatiently as she fired, her hands at this point grown used to the feeling of a bucking gun.
The gator went as fast as its twisted body could handle, jumping at her with its mouth at the ready. She took the opportunity, tossing down Mouser. The grenade bounced off the ground as Jinx kicked off the guardrail behind her, pushing herself to the side. The nail bomb exploded, sending shrapnel into its softer underbelly as the beast leapt up, crashing through the guard rail and diving into the water.
Jinx stumbled but kept up her run, desperate to make it to the console room. She pumped her arms as her braid flew behind her.
Hurry! Hurry!
And then Jinx heard the water explode.
The gator torpedoed out of the pool, sludge still sticking to it. It slid across the floor, not even having to move its limbs from the momentum. Jinx's eyes were wide with disbelief as the beast slammed into the wall. It scrambled against it with its claws, before pushing off with a webbed foot, twisting its body sideways.
Jinx ran face first into a jagged maw.
She didn't have to think or analyze the situation. So she followed her instincts and did what she knew best.
Jinx snatched out a Chomper, one specifically designed for a short fuse. She threw it up, and in the same motion, fell to her back, sliding and letting the slick brick carry her.
It exploded. The blast punched into the beast, giving her just enough room to slide under its jaws.
She pushed off the ground and rolled up, just a few steps away from the entrance to the room—only to jump back as the gator dived down on her position.
Jinx glared at it. Some scales on one side were burnt and flaking off. I can turn this thing's insides to mush, but that'd take too much time.
"Then be bold."
The voice was unexpected. Her breath caught in her throat. Her teeth ground together so hard that they hurt.
"Shut up! I'll deal with this myself!"
Jinx angled her aim just a bit more up, to the one of its bulbous eyes, and fired. The eye burst like an overfilled zit, purple spilling out as the gator roared. It hopped towards her, ready to snap her in two.
Jinx pulled out two grenades. She waited for the right moment before she threw one up. The jaws snapped next to her, teeth slamming together with a cracking noise as she danced back. The grenade exploded just in time, pushing the gator back and giving her just enough room to maneuver.
Back-and-forth they went, Jinx calculating the precise moment to toss up a grenade to buy some time, and dodging as the maw came crashing down. It was this single-mindedness that allowed her to predict its movements. A single moment too soon, a stumble or slide on the bricks, and it would result in a grisly death. Her body would be torn in half instantly.
It was the closest she had ever been to death.
But that was the last thing on her mind as anxiety filled her, and as her heart raced in her chest.
Duo explosions knocked the alligator to its side. Jinx was pushed against the wall, breathing heavily, each mouthful filled with the humid stink. The room was just behind her.
"Almost my whole quick supply." Jinx glanced down to her pouch. She pulled out two more Chompers. The grenades were held perpendicular as the beast started to recover. It left long scratches through the brick as it straightened itself. Jinx curled the pinky fingers of the opposite hands around the pins.
Just as before, with little thought behind it, the beast rushed at her. Its mouth opened, rows of serrated teeth greeted her as it lunged straight at her. The pins were pulled and tossed right into the gator's waiting throat. Jinx jumped as soon as the action was done.
It thundered into the brick snout first, the entire room shaking from the force. A muffled blast followed, blood bursting from its neck in two large spurts. Jinx spared a glance to make sure it wasn't moving before she rushed into the room.
Jinx snapped her eyes around the console. A bundle of wires and valves met her. She found what she was looking for and quickly pulled a lever.
Immediately, the tension left her body. "Just a bit over…" Jinx leaned on the console.
"Guess sewer gators really do exist."
It was at that moment that the alligator's head smashed through the window. Jinx ducked down as It repeatedly smacked its jaws, desperately trying to push its body through the comparably smaller hole.
Jinx glared with hate. The gator moved erratically, blood lined with purple, spilling. The colored lines rent across its body pulsed together further still. It's singular eye rolled, focusing on nothing.
Memories of sleepless nights passed through her mind, of far off purple, the color of failure. It haunted her dreams in twisted images and malevolent shapes. A body too thin, ripping into itself for more space, nails cutting from the skin like knives through a glove.
The fear was never about what it would do to her.
"Vi needs me," Jinx spoke to herself. Reassured herself. She reached into her pouch and pulled out an explosive with a higher yield than her other ones.
One designed as a monkey.
Jinx twisted the wind-up key in one, two, three repetitions. It was held tightly in her hand as it began to clap. There were no Hexcrystals left, but it was still stuffed to the brim with chemicals, all layered on top of each other to produce the strongest punch.
"I'm not going to be afraid of you anymore."
Jinx tossed the Monkey bomb in-between the gator's bites. It raged a few long moments before the bomb detonated inside of it. The Shimmer Alligator was decapitated as pounds of flesh were pushed in all directions, covering the room in rank sewer meat. Scales went flying and burst inside-out. A flood of red hit Jinx, smacking her chest and sliding down her.
Something meaty hit her hair.
"Ugh," She gagged. Jinx swiped a hand that was now slick with blood. "Vivek better pamper me good for this…"
Jinx walked around the headless corpse to the bloodied console. She pulled another lever, triggering the rain of Shimmerwine from wherever it was kept down here.
The plan hinged on her doing this first. She was a little late, but Vi would rather her be safe, even if it cost the plan. Still, Jinx couldn't help the annoyance that lingered.
It was a good thing then that she got to literally blow off all that steam.
Explosions were great for things like that.

My ears were ringing.
I groaned, pushing my arms over my head and sending bits of glass to the floor. Cautious not to cut myself, I slowly looked up. Thousands of pieces of glass of various sizes lay on the floor, the walls of the room were torn down—the loss of one wall must have been enough to cause the others to fall. Some of the adjacent rooms were also broken, leaving a sea of shards.
I shook my torso from my prone position on the floor. I was covered in some of the flakes. I wanted to be careful breathing it in, in case it happened to still be in the air, but frankly there wasn't much I could do about it.
There were a few cuts on my arms, thankfully I was able to prevent the worst. I would have to pull some of the smaller pieces out later. My gloved hand brushed glass off my shoulder.
There was movement to my side; a displacement in the glass
I looked over, and the hand that balanced my weight clenched, gathering the shards into my grasp.
Boccus, crawling, and impossibly—alive.
His back was burned severely. Some of his skin was charred and a few of his gold chains were melted around his neck, merging with his skin. His arms were lacerated with chips still stuck inside. The shirt he wore was barely holding on, the exposed parts of his chest just raw as the rest of his body.
How is he not unconscious from the pain?
Boccus didn't try to run. He crawled toward me, a shaky hand reaching out to drag himself amongst the broken glass. Once he saw he had my attention, Boccus slowly pushed himself to his knees, hissing all the while.
I didn't say anything; I simply stared. I pushed up as well, rising to my feet. I fluffed my vest, careful of the particles that fell off my body, I didn't want them to fall between my clothes.
"Who…would I be…?" Boccus said in a rasp. The skin of his neck pulled at the gold. Each word seemed like it took a force of will. "If I…did not…look at you."
I tilted my head in acknowledgement. "I don't want to admit it. But you deserve respect for standing your ground. That's more than some that I've met would do."
It's important to live by a code.
But still…
My hands tightened, the glass in one hand punctured through the glove. I took a step forward, his legacy crunching underneath my shoe.
"You know," I began, "despite what you might think, I'm not naive. I knew we were going to be attacked one day. It was guaranteed. That's not the part that gets me angry."
My hands were curled into fists, rivers of blood fell from my glove, barely noticeable from the pink light and the gloves' own red color.
"You threaten to kill my family, right in front of me. Insult my sister, right in front of me."
I stopped in front of him, looking down into his black eyes.
Boccus let out a wheezing laugh. He drew in a breath in preparation, I could see the tremors it caused. A grin was on his lips as he opened his mouth. "Well—"
I shoved the glass into his mouth.
Boccus' eyes popped open as wide as they could. His arms tried desperately to grasp at my own, but there just wasn't enough strength in them.
"MMMGH!"
His muffled screams continued as I held my palm over his mouth. I held his head up as I studied him, not a smile to be found on my lips. Boccus flailed at me, his blows feeling like love taps. I tilted his head back. Every bit of his cocky swagger was replaced with fear.
I let go and slammed my other fist into face, further breaking the glass. Boccus fell to the ground. Blood began to dribble to his frazzled beard.
He didn't get back up.
I sighed, running a hand through my hair and smearing it with red. Our past conversation ran through my mind. I considered something.
"Everything that you had is now my own."
Turning around, I walked back to the punctured and cut up couches. I grabbed a fistfull of the fur coat, whipping some of the glass out. The coat was little more than barely held together thread at this point.
I dragged it along with me, I didn't spare Boccus a glance as I stepped over him.
The glass under my feet thinned as I neared the rails overlooking the dance floor. It was at that moment that I spied two dark shapes in the corner of my eye. Like a bolt from blue they appeared, staying far from the splinters on the floor and rushing towards me. I didn't have time to react as they barreled into my chest.
"What—!"
Held in my arms were two Whumps, panting with their fat tongues sticking out. I blinked rapidly. My incredulous gaze quickly turned to annoyance. "You're not supposed to be here!" I snapped. "That wasn't part of the plan!"
The risk to your lives isn't needed.
One of the two pointed to the approaching flames. It had grown enough to reach the ceiling at this point, sensually licking around the sprinklers. It would burn long once it reached into the pipes.
The Whump made a wavy motion with his hands before motioning to me.
"You guys set it up. You were supposed to be gone by now."
The other pointed to me, bringing her digits together to make a rough 'OK' symbol with her paw.
My heart felt like it swelled three sizes. "You…were worried about me?" I asked, honestly touched, and trying my best to keep a smile off my face. I gave up the fight at their rapid nods. I sighed and reached up with my good hand, scratching under their chins, much to their chittering delight.
"Well, I guess just this once I'll forgive you for not following orders." I held them close to my chest. Holding the coat as I was, the leftmost one was almost hidden in its fur.
Glass crunched in front of us, drawing our attention away. A ragged group of three stood before us. Their clothes were marked with stains and tears, glass and weapons held at the ready. The one at the head had a beard that was long enough that it was pulled into a short blond braid.
My minions growled at their presence.
"You tryna' leave?" the lead man asked. He didn't take his eyes off me. A shard, large like a butcher's knife was clutched in his hand, blood outlining its blade.
I began to walk forward. The Whumps needed no order. I loosened my arms and they ran along my body. Claws punctured my suit, in what would surely be visible later, as they spun around me. My torso was used as leverage, like squirrels zigzagging down a tree, ready to jump off.
My living buzzsaws only sped up as they got used to the movement. All I needed to do was fling an arm out and they would go flying like the furry missiles they were. They could probably use the glass as weapons, but that would cut into their hands. I ignored how their scratches were agitating the rest of my cuts. "We're in a burning building, so I'm gonna keep this short," I said.
"Boccus is dead. Chross is about to die. I now have your contracts. I intend to destroy them and set you free from any debt you may have. As a Zaunite should be." I quirked an eyebrow. "Questions?"
"Zaunite?" Blondie puzzled out with a frown, the word unfamiliar to his lips. He looked at his surroundings for a time before he scoffed, tossing glass down. "I'm not fighting for a dead man. Simple as that."
He said nothing else, just turning around and walking down the steps. The other two hesitated but deferred to his judgment, quickly running after him.
If only it was always that easy…
The danger now passed, my pets stopped spinning. They came to rest on my shoulders. One of them wobbled precariously back-and-forth. I had to pull him back before he fell off. The other just shook her head
I stood behind the guardrail, amidst the sea of pink flames and of purple rains. The light was tinted the same shade. It was hard to make out the blood with all the other liquids splashed about. Bodies were strewn about. A scarce few were still fighting, but most were just doing their best to run away. Glass was broken as far as I could see.
I stood with a ruined fur coat under my arm and two Whumps on my shoulders.
"Don't worry Boccus, I'll do a much better job with your community than you ever would have."
Beyond his selfish greed, he had a dream of a better future. It was thin veneer for what he really wanted. But I'm sure there was at least a part of him that did care about his home. He spent years of his life in this community, was molded by it, and sought to mold it in return. If you consider it in that sense, and what would be best for fulfilling that dream…
Then Boccus meeting me was the best thing to ever happen to him.

The days were growing colder.
Winter was in full swing. Maybe it was strange to consider given we were underground, but the weather did have an effect on us. Even if a majority of the Entresol was under a stone sky, the rents in the sky were important in how they accessed the surface.
The air up top was getting cold. It was something the factories had to take into account for production. Despiste the heat we produced, it wasn't overly hot underground, even around Summer. I wasn't completely certain why, but I thought it had something to do with all the vents to Topside.
It should let the heat dissipate, I considered as I walked through the alleys. A new suit, looking the same as before, adorned my person. It was easy enough to send the other into repair while I wore one of the several I had ordered.
An older man was hunched in a corner of a building, pulling a rotten linen cover around him.
I frowned. Regardless, the seasons impact us just like anyone else. Even if sometimes it's a little different.
If rain could reach down in the rare waterfall, then snow could as well. It didn't happen often, but I had heard stories.
There were some parts of the Promenade where you could look straight down into the fissures. I could imagine what it was like, watching as fractals of ice fell into the world below.
I didn't give the man a glance as I passed. If I offered charity he would reject it, he was old enough to know better. A warm smile and a promise of warm food would get your organs stolen. I wanted to help him, but any attempt to approach directly wouldn't work.
So I walked past him and around the corner.
My hand sneaked into the pouch inside my pocket. I fingered a few gears, not enough to be suspicious, and tossed it to the side without looking. The coins bounced off the walk, landing next to some trash.
Dirty enough. I nodded. He would find them eventually.
This was a systematic issue that affected the whole of the Undercity. We were perpetually poor, and even with the wind in our sails picking up, there were those who suffered abhorrent poverty.
Silco wasn't an idiot. He didn't want our people to freeze. Workers were always needed, especially with the expansion. There was an open offer of employment, and with that came the guarantee of not going cold. But we couldn't look after everyone—some fell through the cracks, or like that man, were too old.
It was something I would look into once I got a handle of wrangling Boccus' assets. It hadn't been long since his death. The cuts on my hand were still in the process of healing. Silco and Wencher were pushing closer and closer to Chross. It was barely worth talking about for the city; the man's days were numbered.
Maybe it was unfair to say, but go figure the Topsider couldn't cut it.
The city was more concerned with the Winter, she was drawing herself back in preparation.
I died in Winter.
It was something I didn't always like to think about. There was no lingering grudge, strange as it was to say. I didn't hate the cold, in fact I preferred it to the heat. I liked the snow, even if I didn't see it often. It snowed more towards PIltover and the mountains north.
But it was still a thought nonetheless.
My wheezing breath was a lullaby. The cold turned to warmth. I felt like I was bundled in blankets even with the snow as my bed mates. A salted path—the coda to my song.
The entire story that was my life laid before me. And for some reason, what stuck out to me the most was the end.
Did I regret it?
I strolled through the alleys like they belonged to me. I wasn't too worried about someone taking a shot at me here. Jinx had a new yo-yo ready to go already. She was talking about adding some upgrades, but I was hesitant. It was always supposed to be temporary.
But then again, if a gator just so happens to pop up from a sewer drain…
I never would have sent her there if I knew what was waiting for her. I would say I was shocked, but Shimmer was still new and I knew not to underestimate a world with magic in it.
All that firepower, and you use it as a glorified guard.
Once things calmed down, I would look into the weapon concept fully. It was my responsibility to handle Boccus' leftovers. I would pull them together and expand my own holdings, hopefully creating my own businesses. I could prove my worth even further from there.
And I still need to make an attempt to fill Chross' shoes before someone else does, I sighed internally. Ironically, the more open movements of the Whumps would help me with that.
There was always something else that needed to be done.
I came to a stop at Grandma's Bakery. I tried to come when I could. The last time I had Jinx by my side.
The lights were off, strange for this time of day. I tested the door handle.
Unlocked.
"Granny?" I asked as I stepped in. The bell jingled.
It's cold.
As much as it was outside. The heaters weren't on. The chill bit into my fingers underneath the gloves.
No smells of cinnamon and chocolate.
My eye twitched as I glanced around, something uneasy bubbling in my stomach. There was nothing out of place, but some of the confections behind the shelves from yesterday weren't replaced yet.
Each footstep was a tap against the floor as I made my way past the front counter. This was both her work and her home.
"Gutsy?"
The next room was the kitchen. Nothing was out of place.
Not a robbery.
The Chem-furnaces weren't heated either.
They would need to be lit early to prepare for the day.
Further still I went, through the dark and cold. The only light from the ones already lit. I passed a window, pink light pushed through the blinds at an angle. The neon of whatever shop was next door shone bright.
There was a hallway, short enough it just barely deserved to be called one, at the end of which was a door. Each of my steps clicked against the floor, but it was barely audible with my heartbeat in my ears. I grasped the handle, turning it halfway—I hesitated, uncertainty clawing at my chest. My face was tense.
I opened the door.
It was a small room. A simple bed lay on the floor. There were several nightstands and cupboards placed around. The walls were dry. There was also a nice floral pattern on the walls. A white lotus on a blue background. It looked to be peeling in some places. I would have offered to fix it if I knew. She never mentioned it to me. There was a window behind the bed. It would have made it hard to escape in case of a fire. Zaun architecture being what it was, you had to know where to bolt in emergencies.
My eyes dropped down.
There was also a body in the bed.
Gutsy stared up at the ceiling, something dark and yellowish coming from mouth and trailing from her nose. Vomit, blood, I wasn't sure.
I watched emotionless. The anticipation was gone, and now all that was left was just…emptiness. A gnawing dread grew the further I went through her home, but now that I was here, I felt nothing but the cold.
No, that's not true.
Flecks of something caught my attention in the yellow.
It was purple.
My throat clenched. I tried to take a breath but my body wouldn't let me. It did it again and I sputtered as I placed a hand to my chest. Tears started to burn in my eyes as I balanced myself on a wall.
Did we do this? It was the first thought that entered my mind. Did I?
Where did you get Shimmer!? Was the second.
I pounded a fist to my chest, coughing as I started to take in air again.
I knew what we sold to her, and it wasn't Shimmer. Silco let me handle her deliveries personally, he wouldn't go behind my back for a single person, that was stupid. Gutsy was getting it—
I closed my eyes sharply.
…Gutsy got it on her own.
"Why did you do this?" I whispered to myself, grasping at my collar. I looked at her, at a sight that would surely stay with me. Her eyes were open and glassy. I had a suspicion of something.
I have to know.
I gagged as I stepped forward. Unbidden, my hand started to shake as I reached down. I removed a glove and touched an arm. I could barely feel any warmth, she was almost as cold as the room. It had been two days since we had last seen her. How long had she been like this?
This close, my eyes caught something. Something I wouldn't have caught with how lively she normally was, nor with what she wore on a regular basis.
I pulled her skin, looking deep. Under waves of black, so small I wouldn't have noticed under normal circumstances, were little pin pricks in her skin.
Track marks.
They were hidden under the tattoos.
My face was blank as I slowly rose. I moved to search a cupboard, nothing. I tried the nightstand next to it, nothing.
I offered to help her.
She said this was the problem. Would she lie to me?
I ransacked a dead woman's things as I moved from drawer to drawer, a spark of anger rapidly growing. I pulled another out, a pile of mismatched pills jumped as I did so.
There was much more inside than the amount that I gave her.
I held up a makeshift bottle. I flung it to the side, uncaring of what spilled out of it. "I'm such a goddamn idiot," I whispered, my hands tight around the nightstand. Swaying? Acting like you're half-asleep?
That wasn't withdrawals!
"I don't understand." Gutsy had all this here, and she let me offer her more. And I didn't notice it.
Or maybe she gained it recently?
Princess…did Gutsy get back into the ring fights?
It didn't matter, either way she was dead. I was calmer than I thought I would be, more coherent. I wasn't raging and screaming to the heavens. Instead it felt like there was a knot in my chest. It was like it was alive, constantly shifting and pulling against me. Snakes burrowed in my skin.
Against my will, memories of sweets and warmth flashed. Of chocolates offered freely, old stories told alongside them. Of my ramblings of the specific taste of sugar cookies, to helping to install the chem-furnaces. This place was a refuge in the cold.
I needed to think about this logically.
I played some role in her death. Even if she had more supply or not, even if I was aware of it or not, it was irrelevant—Shimmer was present, that meant I had a responsibility.
Would she have died without it? My fists clenched at the thought. Was it the Shimmer, the mixing? I didn't know, and that more than anything left me torn. The plan was evil, Shimmer was evil, these were things I knew. I agreed to it. I understood what would happen. I said that it was worth the cost.
If this was the price…
Did I regret it?
"What the hell am I saying?!" I clutched my head. Here lay a dead woman, a kind woman, and I was stuck inside my own mind.
Tears fell down my cheeks, burning from the cold.
It would be an insult to everything I was to back down now. It would be an insult to Gutsy.
She was from a generation older than even my father. I could imagine the life she lived, I could see it now. A life spent toiling away in the mines. Dust so sharp it would cut at your lungs. Every day, again and again, no hope for a better tomorrow. No hope for sunlight. Taskmasters screaming for their quotas. Workers packed shoulder to shoulder. The only bit of freedom she could get was in a needle, or maybe a pill, in those shy moments where she had time to herself.
Gutsy was doomed from the start. She never knew anything else.
Do the ends justify the means, if the end truly is better than what you had?
My eyes widened.
How many people actually tried to make the Undercity better? In small pockets perhaps, but never enough for lasting change. Vander was the closest, with the formation of the Lanes. But even still, as much as he tried, he could only do so much. His efforts were stymied by the Barons and the Enforcers. Silco wasn't in that position, the 'criminal' element was coming under his control and the Enforcers were staying out. Despite this, the revolution had to take his focus.
But I could afford to take the time to look into things. I was already planning on it. Come to think of it…had anyone ever been in the position that I was in? Someone with both the means and the want to help? Someone that was able to? Certainly not a Piltovan noble, not for long. There was no one to stop me, I could help.
Plans shifted slightly in my mind. Employment, living conditions, the cold, the very air we breathed. Things that I could address, that Jinx could help with, that the Whumps could. I considered our new connection with Smeech and what we had spoken of.
It wasn't enough that they feared me. In the future, it was likely the average person would have to fight. Even without that, having genuine support behind me and my cause would only benefit us in the long run.
I would make them love me.
I wiped away my tears, crouching down before her. With a gentle hand, I closed her eyes for the final time. "Sleep at ease, Granny. Dream of a better tomorrow." I was morose as I rested a hand on her head. "Don't worry, I promise it'll all be worth it. I'll make sure of it."
I didn't know what to do with her body. I felt awful just leaving her here, but I wasn't sure where to take her.
I had to talk to Dad, he would know what to do.
He always did.

Silco strode through the burst door.
The office was big, table exceptionally long for a single person. Wencher was ahead of him, marching with purpose. Chross sat in a chair, fingers steepled together.
Chross lifted his head. "Dare I even try to convince you to let me leave?"
Wencher scoffed, tossing aside a stand that came into his way. "We're not here for your wealth. We're here for you."
"You bet on the wrong horse," Silco said, following in the trail of broken furniture. "I'm afraid to say, you have nothing left to offer us. Regrettably, your time in the Undercity has come to an end." Silco inclined his head. "I hope you enjoyed your stay."
Chross slammed his hands on the table. "I bet on the wrong horse?! It was Glasc who—!" A metal claw closed around his neck. Chross choked as he was lifted out of his chair.
Wencher's metallic arm whirred and joints whined as Chross was held up with a single hand. "That's enough talk, wordsmith," Wencher spat. With a crack, his body went limp, struggling arms falling to his sides. His saggy flesh pulled down, like he was a puppet cut free of its strings.
Wencher tossed him aside without a care.
Silco eyed the corpse as he would the mud on his boot. It's not that it was because he wasn't native. The Undercity was the land of the Lost and Found, all children were embraced under the smog. It was the fact that it was a Topsider playing pretend. Silco would at least have tolerated it, had he not overstepped.
One obstacle gone. The rest will fall in line. Silco raised his head and met Wencher's gaze. But not all…
"We'll need to divy up the earnings," Wencher said, not surprising him in the slightest. "I'm not in the mood for more territory, but we can draft up some plans."
"Then we'll do so later. I have other matters to attend to. I'll be busy with the aftermath of this mess."
"I can help with that." Wencher grinned with a jaw of filed down teeth, never a good sign from him. "I've decided to join your council."
The only eye of Silco's that could, narrowed. "Is that so? Quite the change of heart…"
How fitting it was for Wencher to change his mind when it was convenient for him.
"These recent events have proven…" Wencher snapped a claw shut. "Enlightening."
He won't admit it, but he knows he can't stand against me. The council is happening regardless. This way, he can at least retain a position of power.
Wencher reached out a hand, trying to take the decision away from him. "With us united, the Chem-Barons wouldn't dare second guess it."
And it would slight Renata for him to publicly support me. But that's not all, the position benefits whatever schemes he has…
Silco grabbed the implant without the slightest hesitation, gripping it tightly. One that, only a moment before, was strong enough to snap a neck single handedly.
Does it burn your pride to bow the head?
The talons of the fingers were sharp.
"Fine," Silco declared. "I'm glad you've come to see reason. But understand this is a relationship formed from cooperation. Follow our tenets and surely you'll see success. We will be as we should be, united against the world."
Don't step out of line. Not even you are above the consequences.
They shook.
"As we should be," Wencher agreed. "For a better tomorrow. For Zaun."

There was a small funeral for Gutsy, something public and open for anyone to come. She didn't have any family that I knew of, but she looked out for the kids when she could. It was nice to see those who came out. A part of me was worried how Jinx would react, but it wasn't as bad as I expected.
There was no big burst of emotion from her. She was dejected, but not to the point where it kept her down. For once, I felt like she was the one doing all the cheering up. I supposed it was fair, I knew Gutsy for much longer anyways. Jinx only knew her for a scant two years.
I would continue to mourn her, but the best way to celebrate her life was to honor her.
The best way to do that was to continue the work.
And so I let my ideas crystalize. While the city restructured from the brief war with Chross, I threw in another commission at my new favorite tailor. The base was Boccus' old coat. It was mine to claim, so it was mine to do what I wanted with it. It was little more than bundles of fur and thread when I handed it over. The tailors gave me a strange look, but they didn't complain when I flashed the coins. The fur was redistributed along the entire length, although even more had to be added.
It was the most gaudy thing I had ever worn.
A fur coat, checkered in black and white. The same as my suit—the same as my hair. The fur was thicker at the collar and cuffs, with an inner lining of blood red. It swallowed me whole as I walked to The Last Drop, flowing behind me like a cape. Trailing from its end, three points jutted out, the tips splattered black as if they were paintbrushes.
It was almost as if they were racoon tails.
Whumps ran across rooftops and swung from hanging lines. A peddler yelled as a group jumped on top of his stall. They ran by me, twirling by my feet before they were off again. Another perched on a green light, laughing in his hyena-like laugh as his orange eyes peered down.
Smeech, Wencher, Margot, the late Boccus, they all took advantage of the changing culture. So I would too.
If the Whumps would be known, then everyone would know they belonged to me.
Our plans necessitated them to be open, so I would wear it on my sleeve. It was another step to making sure the Whumps were synonymous with our empire.
A clump of them were playing in some knocked over trash in an alley, throwing it up or laying back and making trash angels on the ground.
People couldn't help but glance at me as I walked down the street. If they didn't know who I was by now, they would soon. Many of the glances at my coat were mocking, others were filled with greed, but that was okay, it caught their attention nonetheless.
Some tried to avoid my attention, those were the ones who knew I could afford to stand out.
A conversation died down as I passed.
Then there were those who recognized me, the soldiers who acknowledged me and gave a respectful distance.
Deckard and his crew were making the rounds. He gave me a nod, a new gold chain around his neck.
"Barely made it for the meeting…furball," Jinx said, standing up from where she was leaning.
"But at least I'm warm," I smiled. The chill of Winter couldn't pierce all my fuzz.
Jinx stepped in close, wrapping around me. She could almost completely disappear in the folds if she wanted to. "Mhm. Well, I can give ya' that."
Jinx didn't so much as blink as the other inhabitant of my coat made himself known. A furry head popped out next to her. Cornelius panted happily, holding a paw to his hat to keep it from falling off. She giggled and scratched under his chin.
That was how I entered The Last Drop, a sister at my side and a Whump on my shoulder.
I could see the regulars gathered for the meeting. Sevika by Silco as always. Slim Jim and Licky close by. Rico and Jeryk huddled by the stairs. Ran and Seera off to the side.
Silco lit a cigar. I stepped up before Sevika did, withdrawing a silver lighter I got just for him.
Sevika's eyes flicked to me, but she stepped back, letting me take my place.
The cigar was lit, burnt tobacco quickly filling the room. I hated the smell, but he liked it, so I would tolerate it.
"Are you ready, then?" Silco asked me around his cigar.
I gave him a nod, a burning desire deep in my chest. "Absolutely."
He let out a breath, smoke trailing out.
"Then let the work begin."

Chapter 20: The Answer Is No

The song for this chapter is famously from Man of La Mancha, the story of Don Quixote. Just thought I'd mention that for no reason. No particular reason at all!
Anyways this chapter: So this was the first time making a plot that wasn't tied down to canon rails. I think I've learned as I've went along what works and what doesn't. And how fast things can grow when I'm describing things. I think I have a handle on worldbuilding and lore stuff. And I'm getting better at dialogue. I wanted to use this arc to cut my teeth on how to plot, especially before we get to the more important things (it's all important but you know what I mean). To be clear, I'm firm that for this story, characters matter the most. And I liked the cause-and-effect relationship the characters had on Arcane S1. I think putting plot over that was one of my issues with season 2, just talking generally here.
I had this down as the "Coat Arc" on my outline. So obviously I needed to get that done. Divus continues to be useful for character development. The purpose of this arc was really Viv and Pow-Pow stepping into their roles in different ways and the fear people gain of them. The last moments they'll have before they're fully on the board. From here, things will start to pick up. And more canon characters will become important to the story.
For Granny Gutsy, I want him to see the consequences of his actions in a tangible way. Even as much as he cares about people, it's different when it's someone you know. I can say he has a strong resolve all I want, I need to show that too, and show what he thinks is the right decision to make. I thought about getting rid of the idea, or have him get there on time or something, but it didn't feel right. Even as he becomes more sure of himself, he needs more than things that fit into his worldview nicely. Vivek needs to have events that challenge him and his position. His rationalizing wouldn't be compelling or entertaining otherwise I think. The absolute last thing I want him to be is boring.
As for Princess' fate...

Placeholder77 said:

He had several scars on his stomach where the skin seemed thinner. His tongue lolled out. His mechanical jaw opened lazily; I could see where the bolts met the flesh.

Placeholder77 said:

And, I made sure not to verbalize and be insensitive, he used to be in the dogfights. That can't have been good for him in the long run.

Placeholder77 said:

She only stopped her participation in the animal-fight clubs after I met her.

Princess…did Gutsy get back into the ring fights?

I think there's enough to keep the implication open.
We're following the same formula: Next an interlude then a small time jump. They'll be a bit older which is...Pandora's box opened. I don't think I need to say anything else lol.

Next chapter:

Thank you for reading!

Chapter End Notes

Just to clarify if you haven't checked out the thread: I liked season 2 overall, I just LOVED season 1. Just had a few issues like putting aside the Piltover-Zaun conflict, characters needing more time for their arcs, you get the gist. Still a great show overall, and I don't regret my time with it in the slightest. Of all the media I've experienced, it was somehow the one that got me into creative writing.

I want to show my love for it in my writing.

Even as I put its characters through really fucked up situations.

Interlude: My Body is A Cage

Chapter Notes

I said before but I post whenever a chapter gets done. That normally ends up being weekly. I've never gone more than two weeks without posting something. And if I do go two weeks without, I'll give a heads up over on QQ.

Anyways since the latest chapter is here, once again I'm always open to constructive criticisms. I've only really been doing this since September, so I very much want to grow as a writer.

The light clicks of mechanical gears was the only noise in the lab. Viktor's hands moved slowly across the tiny golem. He was hunched in his chair, carefully twisting its innards. Light shined off of the golem's faux gold casing. The windows were opened more than normal in preparation for the inspection, allowing the sun to shine through Viktor's normally darkened space.
Much to his mild discomfort.
A tour was being held to show off the fruits of their labor. An inspection from the council and the various sponsors that the two of them had accrued. It was the last one before the Hexgates were to officially open. It was a rote bit of red tape that happened from time to time, where technology and calculations would be checked and made sure nothing would explode relatively soon. It was unstated by all that only the highest level of mathematicians could follow the calculations.
Politics, Viktor scoffed, closing the chassis of his golem and placing it on the desk.
Viktor left such things to Jayce. His partner was entertaining the guests, taking them through the building and displaying lesser inventions before bringing them back to the main lab. Viktor was uncomfortable with such things, especially when the guests were some of the highest members of society.
He would leave the speeches and people pleasing to him.
And so, Viktor sequestered himself away at the lab. There wasn't enough time to dive into his calculations—by the time he would immerse himself into it the tour would arrive—so he kept himself busy by fiddling with his golem.
A toy in truth, Viktor thought. A rotund body, atop which sat a spherical head with circular lenses for eyes. Its hands were almost as big as its torso, like massive gauntlets. And its legs were unfinished, a rough framework of wire that were comparatively smaller to the rest of its body.
But even toys have a purpose. Viktor smiled.
What would happen in a world where Hextech could be properly miniaturized and safely contained? Once they got to that point, even golems as small as this could possibly be powered by Hextech. It would be a toy like no other, hopping and spinning and bringing smiles to children.
Or perhaps, groups of the golems could be used as workers to clean out built-up sludge and biofilm in Undercity pipes, repair ventilation systems that would be too dangerous for anyone living. They would be able to reach places down there that no one else could. It was nice to imagine such a future.
"A future powered by Hextech," Viktor murmured.
"It may come sooner than you think."
Viktor jumped in his seat. His cane started to fall from where it leaned next to him. He stumbled, grabbing it before it could fall.
Viktor looked up, an old woman in a wheelchair was off to the side, directly in the rays of light. "I—where did you come from? I didn't even hear you come in."
The woman's lips sharpened to a smirk. "You were engrossed with your work."
Was I? Viktor calmed his racing heart and stood, grabbing his cane as he sighed. "I…suppose so. I assume the tour has returned then?"
The woman was dressed in black and soft blues. Her entire body was covered in expensive cloth, with even black gloves reaching to her elbows at the ends of her blouse. A dark blanket was draped over her legs. Her wheelchair seemed almost simple in comparison, but the way the silver gleamed in the sun made up for it.
She sat with her back straight, posture stiff with her hands folded on her lap. "Soon. I found the group stifling, so I found the time to sneak away." Her voice was light and melodic despite her age, accented slightly like several of the nobles were.
"In a wheelchair?" Viktor asked, coming closer as he leaned on his cane.
"It's because of the chair. They barely gave me a passing glance. People tend to underestimate those they think are below them." She gave him a pointed look. Even with the lines of age on her face, she wore it well, skin smooth where it could be. Her eyes were a deep cerulean. "Something I'm sure you're familiar with?"
"...All my life. But, I have strived to better myself and the world around me nonetheless. And I now have the chance to do both." Viktor started in realization. "Ah, forgive me for not asking your name. I'm—"
"Viktor, one half of the pair," the woman replied. "I know who you are, Viktor. My family was one of the first to sponsor you and offer our support on the Hextech project."
Her hair was swept to the sides in a smooth comb. The roots of her hair were thin in comparison. Viktor tried to straighten himself from his slight slouch—her hair wasn't grey, it was white.
"My name is Camille, of the illustrious house Ferros. Though I myself am a member of no import."
Camille shifted her chair forward, there was only the slightest squeak from the wheels.
Must be well oiled…
"Miss Ferros then, can I ask…what are you doing here? Surely Jayce would be able to answer any questions you have better than I?"
And the less Viktor had to deal with nobles, the better.
"Questions that have been asked a thousand times. Answers that I've heard just as much?" Camille clicked her tongue with a frown. "Please, this latest tour is just a precaution. No, I'm not here for Mr. Talis. Instead, before the Hexgates open and you become inordinately busy, I wanted to seek you out personally. I was curious about the 'crippled' scientist."
"There's not much to say," Viktor said, shifting uncomfortably. "I am who I am."
"I disagree. My clan wouldn't be investing into the project if it wasn't remarkable. I know you were important in ensuring Hextech's stabilization. Despite your critics and your disability, you continue to stand above the rest of your peers with nothing else but your sheer skill and talent. I admit…I felt a kinship."
She wants something. Even if Camille spoke truly, he knew by now to be wary of the games the rich played.
"A kinship," Viktor scoffed, grip growing tight on his cane. "What does the noble from one of the oldest lines in the Piltover find similar to the Undercity cripple?"
Camille stared at him with a dry look. "Need I spell it out?"
Viktor sighed, running a hand through his hair. This is why I leave Jayce to deal with them.
"My apologies, would you…like some tea?" Viktor offered.
A quick trip to a cupboard later, and they were soon sat around a table, a brown tea made with mint leaves hot within a pot. Camille declined Viktor's offer of pouring for her, instead taking the tea pot and tilting it slightly. She held a hand at the top of the pot as she poured, swirling it in slow motions as it steamed out. It was more elegant than Viktor's quick spout.
Every time she took a small sip, she would always look down into the tea cup.
Nobles and their rules…Viktor thought, eyes peering over his cup.
"In my youth I was quite spry," Camille said as she withdrew from her drink. "Often, I would even outpace my brother. The walls of our compound, the upper districts, Piltover itself, nothing could hold me." Camille sighed. "But alas, where once age and old wounds have sapped, it now has caught up. I am free no longer."
Viktor nodded slowly. "I-I see. I can sympathize. I was born with my leg this way."
"Then you've never known what it's like to run?"
He suppressed a flash of annoyance before he responded, "Not truly. But I haven't let it define my life. I have worked hard, and now, here I am." Viktor gestured to the window. There was no cloud cover, leaving almost all of Piltover to be seen. Airships passed just above the sky scrapers of gold and white. The city had ticking clockwork and pipes built into it, some of which had clean white steam regularly pouring out. Despite the traffic, people walked the streets in a controlled chaos. The seas were a pristine blue.
Across the bridge it was dreary and drab, stacks of grey and black smoke rising up.
A crow sat on the windowsill, its feathers pitch black and standing out from the white marble. It was like it was watching the city alongside them.
"Ushering in the next age of progress?" Camille asked.
"Yes." Viktor nodded. "The world will be better than how we found it. That will be my legacy."
"Then you act simply out of altruism then?"
Simply? Viktor frowned around his cup. "Isn't that enough? Would you say it is better to have progress for its own sake?"
Camille sniffed. "This is the City of Progress, the most technologically advanced in the world. It's only natural that we stand head and shoulders amongst the pack. No, what I mean to say is that fortune favors the wealthy." She smiled at him. "It's good then that you have so many supporters, else you would not be able to fulfill those lofty ideals."
Fortune favors the wealthy?
Viktor looked down into his cup, one finger tapping slowly on the table. A younger him stared back, fingers trembling as to finish his project in time for Progress Day, hoping beyond hope to catch just one person's attention. The smog racked his body with coughs. The bread was rough, served with gruel and beans. His parents took longer and longer shifts, dreaming to send him across the bridge. He saw them less and less, until one day, he would see them no longer.
The Undercity was hell, but it was home, and Viktor wanted to help it.
He wanted to help everyone.
"Maybe. I've had a very unlucky life," Viktor admitted. He lifted his head to match her gaze, his own kind of pride burning in his chest. "But I was lucky enough for the Professor to come across me. Lucky enough to meet Jayce and walk down this path with him. I'm happy to be able to fulfill my dream."
The sound of an approaching crowd could be heard, Jayce's voice echoing off the halls—the tour had returned.
Camille hummed, seemingly conceding the point. "Then may your actions continue to enrich Piltover. I hope you always have the means to fulfill this dream of yours."
Viktor had no reason to expect otherwise. The Hexgates were soon to open, praise was already being heaped on the project. They were in a better position than they ever were before. From this, they could begin to dive deep into their experiments. The two of them could work to truly put Hextech into the common man's hands.
He was just a few steps away.

A baton dribbled across the bars, each bounce was ear-splitting in the small room.
"Dinner time!"
Violet, Vi as she preferred, stilled in her push-ups. She sighed and got back to it, waiting for the doors to open.
Up.
Down.
Her arms and abs burned, muscles tight from strain, but she refused to stop until she finished her routine.
Up.
Down.
The steel door slid open. Metal scratched against metal in a cacophonous screech, a brief siren announcing the release of the prisoners. Vi pushed herself off the concrete and wiped the grit off on her pants. It was still better than the metal floors of the isolation cells.
It was colder there.
Vi splashed her face from a small metal basin that was built into the ground. The cold water was like a slap from a bitch three times her size, but it took away the tiredness that had built up. Good thing her tattoo was old enough now that she didn't have to worry about any smearing. She tried to be careful with the water when she could, remembering the lessons that Vander had taught her about contamination. Vi would always portion some of it off for washing her hands and under her nails, or for wiping away the sweat and grime.
These bastards aren't big on toiletries.
But Vi made do.
She left her cell, following along the wave of inmates who stumbled along. Guards watched with batons at the ready. Vi kept her eyes straight, she had learned to only pick the battles she knew could win.
Vi scoffed to herself. As if. I can't even lie to myself about that…
The cells were let out block by block, then the wing, until the whole pod was let out for lunch.
It was better than letting the whole prison out at once, but in a place like Stillwater, it was dangerous to have so many inmates walking around. It shouldn't have been allowed to happen in this capacity.
Vi walked up the stairs, passing a guard that slid something into another inmate's hands. They barely even tried to pretend they weren't blatantly doing a deal in the middle of lunch rush.
Pod 'bosses' weren't supposed to exist either. According to Piltover, no criminal element existed in Stillwater at all.
Her bruised knuckles popped as her fingers closed.
Vi kept up a glare. Even if it got her in a fight, it was better than being seen as weak. The pigs watched hungrily for a fight to break out, eager for an excuse to beat the lot of them. Some friction was expected, but too many incidents, and it was off to isolation with you.
Powder wouldn't last a day in here…
Vi closed her eyes tight and let out a sigh. Her tattoo was sore at the base of her neck, still raw from the needle.
She became part of the sea of mean mugging and empty gazes, conversations drowned out by the stomping of boots and the buzzing of the lights. Vi followed the daily routine of entering the cafeteria—one of the larger areas, made of dark steel and crisscrossed with bolts pounded into the ground—waiting in line, and then receiving her meal for the day.
Bread that was too chewy, some mushy gruel, and wet beans. Oh, and a paper half-cup of water.
Vi dragged her tray to a table, one unoccupied and away from others. She dropped it unceremoniously and sat down for another of Sillwater's fine dining.
The gruel was almost flavorless.
"Cheap bastards didn't use enough milk." Vi instead ripped off a piece of bread and dipped it in the beans.
Better.
But sticky.
Compared to Vander's cooking…
What little taste the food had turned to ash in her mouth. "Well, nothing could compare to that," Vi muttered, going in for another chew.
Someone sat in front of her, clanging their tray down. She gave a quick stink eye before she saw it was just Jiggy.
He was a broad man. Only a little younger than Vander had been. A buzzed head and a clean face, tattoos winding up his arms as snakes. Tiny scars trailed up his body, it was expected of anyone in Stillwater. If you didn't walk in with any, then you certainly wouldn't stay bare for long.
"How's the healing?" Jiggy asked, shoving half of his bread down his gullet.
Vi rolled her shoulders. "Good, bit sore. No bleeding. Think we can do another session later?"
Jiggy chuckled and pointed at her with his food. "You're a tough bitch, Vi. Shoulder to neck tats can be painful. I cried like a baby when I got mine done."
"That's 'cause you are a baby."
"Made it this long haven't I?"
Jiggy was her go-to when it came to tattooing. She wouldn't call him a friend, no one was a friend here. Even this was transnational, tattooing took resources. Some people passed around favors, shifting around drugs or wicks in exchange for services. For this commission, Jiggy asked her to do what she did best:
Beat the shit out of a bunch of people that deserved it. The extra time in isolation was worth it.
Crazy bastards run a prison where they barely even separate the sexes.
It helped that there were just as many female guards, but that never guaranteed anything.
But it wasn't like everyone here was a piece of shit. Hardened, absolutely, but the longer she stayed here the more she saw that there were those that didn't deserve to be here. For every two-bit thug and wannabe drug lord, there was a father that would never see his kids again. The person that fought back when the enforcers came to collect a debt that couldn't be collected.
The rare few who survived the failed revolution on the bridge.
Like Jiggy. It was why she trusted him to do this.
Even if they weren't friends, Vi learned to make acquaintances who were invested in her own well-being. A bit of quid-pro-quo to get someone to watch your back around the real psychos that were running around.
"That tattoo, what'd you say it was about again?" Jiggy asked.
"It's…a reminder," Vi said, absentmindedly moving some beans around with a dull spoon. "Something I don't ever want to forget."
"Oh yeah, what?" Jiggy continued, smacking his lips.
Vi scowled at him. "How have you not been stabbed yet?"
"I have!" Jiggy laughed and pulled down his neckline, revealing a scar around his collarbone. "Death hasn't stuck just yet!"
I've nothing to do in here but fight and think…
God if she didn't have time to think. Everyday it played back in her mind. Silco's kidnapping of Vander, the loss of her family, Powder's part in it.
Vi gave a heavy sigh, resting a hand on her head and massaging her temples.
She led them to their death.
At Powder's hand.
It was a mistake, reacting as she did. But to see history repeat and lose another family right in front of her?
I just…couldn't control myself.
And Vi would regret it until her dying day.
The fear in Powder's eyes was sobering.
Of course she didn't mean too. Of course I know that!
It was just…too much for Vi to bear, for that to be their final interaction, leaving her feeling like she was all alone. The last Vi saw, Powder was sobbing in the rain and Silco was approaching her.
Powder had to be alive. Vi wouldn't accept anything else.
And as hard as Stillwater was, the Undercity could arguably be considered worse with Silco pulling its strings. Gangs and drugs and the worst sorts of Stillwater running rampant. With no guards there to give them the threat of a beating. It had to be a jungle right now.
Powder wasn't a fighter. She was a sweet little girl that named her devices like she would stuffed animals.
Vi couldn't imagine how hard Powder was having it.
And that's why I gotta get back. Vi glared up through her hair.
No matter how hard it got, how many beatings she took, how many skulls she had to smash—when it got too tough, when Vi was curled up in her cell covered in sores, her body screaming at her to give up, she didn't. She always got back up. If Vi had to break out of here by scratching at the walls until her finger bled, then she would.
Vi would wear the sins of her mistakes on her back for the rest of her life. Vander, Claggor, Mylo, Powder. On her neck, her shoulders, her arms. She would dedicate her body to her family.
"You good?" Jiggy raised a single eyebrow.
"Yeah—you know what? You can have the rest of this. Don't think I'm in the mood." Vi pushed her tray forward.
Jiggy said nothing as she left her seat, instead eagerly munching down her half-eaten bread.
Vi walked out of the cafeteria to her pod. There was a limited amount of 'free-time' available for when lunch came around. Most of the guards were focused on the largest gathering at the cafeteria, leaving wings relatively security-free. Naturally, people took advantage of this.
Vi let her thoughts wander as she dodged around the other inmates in the hallways.
Silco the industrialist.
The man who took everything from her. From what she could gather, he had a relationship with Vander that went sour, back before the Uprising. He was vicious, using whatever means came his way. He didn't care how much it hurt the Lanes, long as it bought him more control. He'd kill children and wipe his hands clean of it.
The man was a monster.
Ekko's friend…Vivek right?
Silco's son. Was that meeting a coincidence? Did he send his own child to spy on them? It was brief. She barely even remembered him. But if he was kin to Silco, then he certainly wasn't no friend of her's.
Vi drifted back to that day, to when they rifled through the equipment in preparation for saving Vander.
"I should've given her the flare," Vi whispered under her breath.
It had slipped her mind in the chaos of it all. The fear of losing a father, Benzo's death, Ekko's hysterics, her responsibility as the eldest, talking down Power, it all melded together. And it was such a short amount of time, it was like being put in a ring and being told to go until she passed out..
But that was just an excuse. And it was another regret to add to the list.
She should have left Powder something to hold on to.
Wait for me, Powder.
Vi's intention was to catch whatever extra sleep that she could, give her body the chance to heal.
"Man, I ain't ever seen purple hooch before," a voice off to the side spoke.
Vi's plans for the day died after hearing that sentence.
"Were you in before Vander kicked it? Shimmer's everywhere now. It's easy as hell to get a hold of it," the other said. This one had a bald head so shiny the white light from above glared right into her eyes. It was two dudes in a cell crouched around their basin, polluting it like idiots as they tried to make homemade alcohol.
Vi stopped in the hallway, taking a deep breath. Just walk away…
She remembered the disgusting substance and what it twisted Vander into. She remembered Ekko's words that day. It was easy to put the pieces together even without the bits of knowledge coming in from outside.
"And you got it past the guards?"
"They like a little extra money in their pockets too."
"Damn. Good thing he ain't in charge anymore," the inmate laughed.
Fuck this.
Vi rounded on the cell, stomping forward. She shook out her arms, getting ready. She was bigger than she was before prison. Part of that was age, but the rest was relentlessly testing her limits. Vi hoarded and bartered for what extra food she could, she wouldn't let malturion slow her down—even if it only did so much good against the purposefully-made low nutritious food. Vander's prized protege sought out whatever conflict she thought she could handle. Every roughneck she could spar with was another bit of practice. At this point, Vi had gotten used to getting her shit kicked in six ways to Sunday.
It was all training for when she got out of this place.
As long as she didn't die, she could take it.
The two stood up slowly at her approach. Vi's eyes zipped up and down. They were decently built, but not overly so. Bout as average as you'd expect of a prison rat.
The lead one, Baldy, spoke first, "We got a problem?" He glanced at her cheek. "Vi?"
"Yeah, actually. Couldn't help but overhear, gotta couple things I need to know."
The unimportant one next to him laughed. "We ain't tellin' you shit."
"Oh, don't worry, I wasn't asking." Vi jumped, leading with her right fist as she swung down into Baldy's face. She could feel cartilage crunch like crackers breaking in her hands. He yelped as he fell back, grabbing his face.
The other swung wide at her.
Too wide.
Vi dodged underneath the arc, coming up to rocket her fist into his chin. She quickly followed it with a cross into his stomach. His eyes bulged from the force of it. Taking advantage of the stun, Vi grabbed him and dragged him to the basin, slamming his head down into its metal edge.
She gave a final knee to the stomach before she pushed him away, letting him fall to the ground dazed.
Vi raised her guard before the suckerpunch could hit her, blocking it with her shoulder. Baldy was up and glaring at her, blood trailing down his nose. He sent a couple straights her way.
A better fighter than the other.
Vi let her guard take some hits, throwing out some jabs when she could. It felt like a proper match with the way she bobbed around, his blows snapping against her. She waited for the right moment for him to overextend before—
There!
Her foot stomped onto the concrete, her body leaned at an angle as she swerved around a punch. Vi's fist slammed into Baldy's cheek, hitting him hard enough that he went flying into the wall and bouncing right off of it.
Vi lunged at him, pinning him to the wall with her thick bicep on his neck.
"What do you know about what's going on outside?" Vi growled.
"I'm—not telling you nothing," Baldy said, doing his best to sound threatening with a broken nose.
She pressed harder. "What do you know about Silco?"
Baldy paled. "I-I got no idea what you're talking about."
"Bullshit! You know something, so spill it!"
"You wanna get the guards to kill us in our sleep?" he whispered harshly. "Quiet. Down."
Vi eased up on the pressure. "He's got that much pull in here?"
Baldy tried to shake his head. "Look, it's not like I worked for the guy, but I know better to run my mouth." He gave her a pointed look. "And you should know better than to ask."
"You gotta give me something."
"You think I'm a rat?"
Vi pressed back down. "Wanna lose a couple teeth? My dental records been pretty good down here…"
He stared defiantly. "Better you than him."
Shit, what else can I use?
"What about…his son, Vivek right? You ever hear about him?"
Baldy stayed silent but she saw it in his eyes.
Recognition.
So, like father, like son.
There was a shrill whistle to her side. "INMATES! On the ground!"
Vi let go of him as Baldy whispered, "See what you did?"
Vi sighed, turning around to see a guard pulling out a baton. She readied herself for what would inevitably lead to another stay in the isolation cells.
She missed those days she spent bickering with Mylo. The ones where she would needle at Claggor. When she would hover over Powder. They weren't days with no worries, but they were days filled with less than she had now.
Vi's hands curled into fists.
I miss you, Vander…

The wheel turned.
Awareness came back to him slowly.
The world was dark and he couldn't move. It felt to him that he was in-between awake and asleep. It was a constant ebb and flow, like the waves on a beach.
His bed was a web of steel cords and chains. Hooks bored through his wrists, leaving him hanging above a mess of cables that pulsed like veins. He knew this intuitively, even as his eyes were shut.
He felt like a husk.
A dull ache that permeated his entire being, reaching down to his bones and every fleck of skin he had. It was the pain of a fist breaking a tooth in half and then pouring cold water on the nerve. It was a constant that never went away as he felt his body twist and rearrange.
He didn't know how he knew that. There was something he was forgetting.
Silco…
And then he remembered alongside all of the pain that came with those memories.
Vander no longer felt like a husk. His body burned, lava blazing through his chest. Blood boiled so hot he could feel its burn from inside him. Bones were broken and expanded, flesh stretching to accommodate its growth.
The first enchantment were the eyes. His originals were pulled out and cut. After the integration, the new pair were crushed in his skull. They then regenerated, proving they were now forever a part of him.
A memory burned at him, a lick of pink flame as hot as the one in his chest. Broken goggles and unseeing eyes.
Had he asked for this torture? Or was it a bargain in exchange for his life? Either way, he wasn't allowed to die.
Silco.
A low growl clawed from his throat. It was the most his body could handle. Vander's teeth slowly ground together, his bottom incisors extended and sticking out of his lips.
Surgeries were performed at a rapid rate as he grew. Metal was bolted into his arm in a brace as his burns healed. Valves and pipes were forcibly pushed into his body, the meat long since learning to regrow around it. Chemicals pumped into him at a steady rate. Pure in its concentration, his skin adapted to its acids.
Blood fell from Mylo's mouth and nose, an expression of fear forever on his face.
My…boys.
A claw twitched.
Vander remembered why he survived. The reason for his continued existence
Even as it felt like he was swimming through sand, as if every breath was a lungful of glass, he persisted. Amidst pain unending and the haze of memories, a purpose remained clear.
Silco…I'll slaughter you…
Vander climbed a mountain; his goal was at the top. His surroundings were ash and molten rock. The mountain melted and burned around him as it belched hell, his hair alight as he crawled up inch by inch. The heat transformed into a sandstorm, one moving so fast it sheared the giblets of meat from his bones, leaving hanging bits of flesh and pulsating pipes.
The pump in his back shot down, flooding his system with chemicals and cooling the heat. The meat began to shyly crawl back to each other.
Vi looked up at him, tears in her eyes, face covered in dust.
The sandstorm turned to snow and ice, chiling him to the core and threatening to stop him in his tracks. His body locked up. But even still, agonizingly so, he crawled up the mountain with trembling movements.
Silco would be flayed like a fish.
A flash of blue.
The mountain was gone and he was once again hanging in a dark room. Sorrow twisted inside of him, pulling and ripping into his chest.
Powder was there too, wasn't she?
It's not fair….not one of it is fair.
The heat blazed again against his chest, boiling him from the inside out. It spilled from his mouth and melted onto the ground. He didn't care, it couldn't compare, nothing ever could. The flesh of his throat bubbled and popped as it healed over. More of his digits began to twitch.
Silco held up a drink, long hair tied up in a ponytail as he sat at a bar. "To Zaun then," he said with a smile.
"Blisters and bedrock."
The rage disappeared.
Vander watched as his friends danced. Felica was the life of the party, grabbing Benzo's hand and twirling him on the dancefloor. Connol laughed and slapped Vander on his shoulder. Silco sat back with a book. Vienna poked at him, gold eyes narrowed like a hawk as he pretended to ignore her.
I don't…understand.
Pain returned as his flesh was splayed open, organs on display. Images blurred together as he felt like he was pulled into a dark sea.
"Our kids growing up together," Felica laughed. "Imagine that?"
Felica's girls. And then…my girls…
A needle was jabbed into his oversized heart.
Vienna smiled sadly at him. "It's not my place to talk to him."
Vienna's boy.
His chest knitted itself shut.
"And what then, Vander!?" Silco spun around, dust caking his face. "What will it take for them to not look at us like dogs!"
Memories…
"Your regeneration is always something to behold," the Doctor said, closing his chest. "You have already adapted to this latest dosage. I shall remember to cycle several at once for next time. Sleep now, Vander. Next you awake, we will test the limits of your biomechanical integration."
The waves came deeper onto the shore, pulling him into their embrace.
A part of him hated the Doctor—another was thankful.
And yet, the Doctor was another monster in the pile that rested in the Undercity—in Zaun.
Zaun had enough monsters.
He was too tired to think on it more.
Whatever they had before, the lives taken, the pain caused, it was unforgivable.
Unforgivable.
As memories and mind, and all but instinct fell away, purpose burned clearly through every fiber of his being.
Even if his mind broke, even if his body bent, as long as he was alive, he would never let go.
I'll gut you…like a fish.
Awareness left him slowly.
The world was dark and he couldn't move. It felt to him that he was in-between awake and asleep. It was a constant ebb and flow, like the waves on a beach.
His bed was a web of steel cords and chains. Hooks bored through his wrists, leaving him hanging above a mess of cables that pulsed like veins. He knew this intuitively, even as his eyes were shut.
He felt like a husk.
A dull ache that permeated his entire being, reaching down to his bones and every fleck of skin he had. It was the pain of a fist breaking a tooth in half and then pouring cold water on the nerve. It was a constant that never went away as he felt his body twist and rearrange.
He didn't know how he knew that. There was something he was forgetting.
Silco…
It was the last thought before he fell asleep.
This was the cycle that had repeated for years and would repeat for several more.
The wheel of progress turned as the days would blur together and the cycle persisted a thousand times over.
The wheel continued to turn.
For now, the wheel yet turns.

Interlude: My Body is A Cage

If I'm gonna bring in Renata then naturally I have to bring in Camille too. Those were the main two that I felt like expands the Piltover and Zaun conflict the most. And since Vivek will be looking into economics and development next arc, it made sense to introduce her now. Like what is it that's being mined, how is that changing with the Hexgates opening, stuff like that I want to touch on as Viv starts thinking about things like this.
Looking back, I'm happy I stuck with my guns with the Vander situation playing out similariy. I liked him in S2 act 2 but I'll be honest, I was disapointed he didn't go full Warwick in act 3. So I'm looking forward to exploring his emotions as this bundle of rage with all these complicated feelings underneath. He's not Champion "Warwick" just yet, but he's in the process of getting there. There's a lot to say about Vander and his messed up mindstate, but there'll be more of him later.

Afterword

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