Chapter Text
When exactly First Rounds took place—and whether or not the guards even bothered to do it at all—was more or less random, but they always came some time before sunrise. Ostensibly, this was so that sleeping inmates could be safely ignored while the guards focused on the ones who were up at such an unusual hour, but Fours had disabused her of that notion the first time Vi had complained about having her sleep interrupted.
“It’s to fuck with us, kid.” The lanky woman had been there for over a decade and was looking down the barrel of twenty years more; apparently self-defense didn’t mean much when it was some big-time Piltie getting handsy. “Remember what happened at dinner? They get their shiny boots scuffed, we get our bars rattled all night.” She spat into the rusty drain between their showers. “Watch the patterns; they can’t lie their way out of those.”
Inmate 444 was dead less than a month later. 602 had stabbed her dozens of times, though since Fours had managed to snap his neck before succumbing to her wounds nobody ever learned why. In the end, though, it didn’t really matter. Life was cheap and death was free down in the Stillwater sublevels. Less than a year into her imprisonment, Vi knew full well that Fours had probably shown her the only way she was ever getting out of this place; Silco and his pet Enforcers had made sure of that. But Powder was out there somewhere. Her sister needed her, and so she couldn’t give up.
And yet, seven years later, even after she’d been sprung by a magnificent and unhinged Piltie on a berserker tear for justice, Vi still slept like shit.
She stared down at Isha and Jinx, a tangle of limbs bundled in her bed. Got some adorable fucking sisters, no question about that. She carefully extricated herself and headed downstairs, glancing at the wall clock as she passed. She could probably manage an hour on the heavy bag and another of weight work before she needed to get started on breakfast; the ingredients she’d liberated from the Kiramman kitchens had opened up a whole range of options.
She forced herself not to think about everything else that had happened last night. It doesn’t matter. She had work to do, had to make sure to do the most she could with whatever time she had left. She’d have to talk to Sevika, get her on board with Vi’s vision of the Hound. It wouldn’t be what she wanted—Vi was fairly certain nobody would like it—but if Vi couldn’t bring Sevika around, then she didn’t have a chance in the Void of getting her vision off the ground.
It felt weird, to be planning like this, and Vi wasn’t entirely sure she should be the one doing it. Still, if it meant leaving Jinx and Isha a city that they could live in, and not just survive…if it meant a path out of this nightmare, a way to ensure that no gentle Piltie soul ever had to lose herself again…
Then it’s worth it.
Sevika couldn’t stop a thrill of excitement from rushing through her as she processed Vi’s words. “So you’re in?”
Across the table, Vi nodded, and tapped the bandages over the center of her chest with her hand. “I said what I said.” She leaned forward across the table, pushing the remnants of their unusually fancy breakfast aside. Is that what you and your sister were up to last night? “But if I’m the Hound, you take orders from me, got it?”
Sevika studied the woman in front of her for a long moment. She had always seen more of Felicia in Jinx, one of the reasons she’d never been able to fully hate the girl, but right now something about Vi’s expression conjured the devastatingly magnificent ghost of her mother. “Thought you didn’t want to be a leader.”
“I don’t, but I also don’t trust you for shit.” Vi shrugged, her nonchalance a transparent mask for her nerves. You’re gonna have to get a lot better at this if you want any real sumpers to take you seriously. “I don’t know how this all shakes out, but we’re not gonna be chem-barons, or gang bosses, or the next fucking Silco.”
Well, at least she’s consistent. Sevika had worked for Silco for seven long years and felt every kind of way she could about the man, whereas Vi seemed determined to ignore any parts of his life’s work that she couldn’t disavow. “I can live with that.” Sevika nodded slowly. “Long as you don’t expect me to sit there and watch you fuck up without saying anything.”
Vi’s eyes narrowed. “You gonna Vander me if I don’t take your advice?”
A familiar pang in her gut; it seemed the worst decision of her life wasn’t done with her yet. Well, tough shit, Sevika. “That was…I was young and stupid, and…it doesn’t change shit, but it wasn’t right.” She still thought Vander’s approach would have doomed them all if nothing had changed, but the way Silco took power…that should have been a warning sign. “For what it’s worth, I’d never abandon you like that.” After all these years, it would almost be like a second chance. “Especially not with the kid around.” She, Vi, and Jinx might be a tangled web of emotion, but Isha was simple. We’d all die a dozen times to keep her safe. Jinx had taken the kid downstairs while chattering excitedly about art with both her words and her hands, and they were doubtless having a better morning than the two idiots who’d stayed behind.
“Got all the backstabbing out of your system, huh?” Vi’s mouth twisted. “Was it…satisfying? Working for Silco, after he tried to kill me on your first day?” Sevika shot her an incredulous look, and Vi shrugged. “You want to be part of whatever this becomes, we can’t keep dancing around the reason I don’t trust you.”
“I never danced around shit,” Sevika muttered, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to meet Vi’s eyes. “Didn’t feel great, if that’s what you’re asking. Told me he wanted to capture you, not kill; said you had a fire in you the Undercity could use.” She recalled that night all too well; she’d never let herself forget it. “He stopped me going in to grab you; decided to use that little stain Deckard instead.” She remembered the horror of that moment, the realization that Felicia’s daughter, the kid she’d watched grow up, was going to die. “I wouldn’t have killed you, kid. Maybe he knew that, maybe he didn’t, who knows.” The pain, the uncertainty, the need to bury all of that under a thick layer of brutal loyalty, it all still haunted her. “I didn’t want you dead that night, Vi.” She felt her mouth quirk into a weak grin. “These days, of course, I could go either way.”
Vi scowled, her scarred lip rising impudently. “But working for Silco, when the bodies started piling up, could you really look at yourself in the mirror and think ‘Yeah, I’m on the right side’ and mean it?”
“What other side was there?” Sevika’s could feel her voice rising and didn’t bother to rein it in. “Silco kept the Lanes in check, put an end to the turf wars in the Entresol, and the people who didn’t get in line went down their last shaft.” Memories of what she’d done, what she couldn’t do, rose unbidden. “He stopped putting me on the factory jobs early on, ditto for the real nasty Shimmer work. Said it was ‘cause I was more use keeping the chem-barons in line, but I think maybe he saw how I reacted after the first few times…” She shook her head to try and dispel the images. It was all for Zaun. “You can tell yourself a lot’s okay if you don’t have to look it in the face.” She was suddenly struck by the hypocrisy of Vi’s attack. “Ain’t that right, Enforcer?”
Vi grunted and took a long pull of the shitty fungal beer they’d both had with breakfast. Once she’d put the glass back down, she nodded. “Guessing you told yourself you weren’t one of the really bad ones? That you were stopping something worse from happening?” Her grin was a quick and humorless thing. “At least for me, considering what Topside did after I quit, seems I was at least half right.” Sevika still didn’t know exactly what had happened to turn Vi away from her Topside girl; Jinx had found her sister alone in the Temple but Vi had never said exactly why. Whatever had happened, though, it couldn’t have been pleasant, at least based on how resolutely Vi changed the subject whenever anyone mentioned it.
Sevika, out of respect for whatever it was Vi was feeling, waved in concession. “Could also say if they’d brought down the whole boot earlier, it would have gotten those three idiot chem-barons to play nice.”
Vi closed her eyes for a moment, and Sevika wondered where she was going. “They almost did, after Renni’s stunt at the memorial.” She shivered and opened her eyes. “They wanted blood, Sevika. Half the reason I’m doing this is because Topside has the power to make the March of Progress look like a bar brawl gone wrong if they chose to.” The thought of Hextech weapons in the hands of every Enforcer and Noxian soldier kept Sevika up at night, and it seemed she wasn’t the only one. “We can’t meet force with force.”
“But you’re willing to fight.” Sevika wouldn’t let them get distracted from what was really important. “I get where Vander was coming from better now than I did back then, but he was so terrified of the Enforcers that he’d let a hundred Zaunites die rather than risk a single Piltie.”
Vi snorted. “I’m not afraid of a dust-up, you know that, but I’m trying this new thing where I don’t fight stupid. Right now, nobody down here can go toe-to-toe with the Enforcers, let alone the Noxians.” She drummed her fingers on the table. “But you’re right that rolling over and showing our belly isn’t going to get us shit.” She shrugged. “I’m not giving them my sister and I don’t think they’re leaving on their own after what she did, but I’m not promising some all-out war that we’d definitely lose.”
“What’s your end-goal?” Sevika’s could feel her temper rising. Show me you’re different, kid. “You just trying to get things back to tolerable, or are you going to fight for the Nation of Zaun?” Sevika knew full well that most Zaunites still saw her as Silco’s creature, but everything she had done was for them, and she would happily stand behind Vi if she also wanted what was best for their people.
Vi’s eyes flashed. “What is Zaun, Sevika?”
Sevika frowned at the odd question. “It’s our ancient name. We were here before Piltover—”
“Not the sales pitch. What’s it to you?” Sevika wasn’t quite sure what Vi was saying, what meaning lay behind her questions. “For Silco, it was the Undercity and whatever chunks of Topside he thought he could swing, but he sure didn’t mean all the people. It wasn’t Vander, or Huck, or any of the other poor bastards down in the slums or stuck in his factories, or me, and you know it.”
Sevika choked back her instinctive distaste at the reminder of the people they’d left behind. “I don’t know what answer you’re looking for, Pink, but—”
“Don’t call me Pink!” Vi’s eyes had gone wide as her voice rose to a shout. “I’m not—” She took a shuddering breath, locking her eyes on Sevika’s. “It’s not…” She rubbed her eyes. “Just…in Stillwater, they called me that, people who…it’s not a good name.” Sometimes, Sevika forgot just how much of her life Vi had spent in that hole. Sumping that sack of shit Marcus was the best work Jinx ever did. Vi grimaced. “Didn’t know that was in there.” Her mouth twisted as if she’d tasted something unpleasant. “Sorry.”
Sevika raised her hand sympathetically. “Hey, no, I get it. Some names you don’t fuck with, and I respect that.” A moment’s pause as she thought. “Just don’t ever tell Jinx a name bothers you, because she’ll never stop using it.”
Vi winced. “Ooh, yeah, only made that mistake once.” She paused for a second, then seemed to make up her mind. “Don’t have to say shit, but if you want to let me know what to avoid; I’ll honor that.” A flash of a smile. “When I piss you off I want to be doing it for a good reason.”
Sevika considered, then decided to accept the olive branch. “Don’t like Ogre, for what it’s worth.” She shrugged. “Been called a lot worse, but something about that one—”
Vi cut her off with a nod. “Got it.” Something changed on her face, a look that reminded Sevika a bit of Jinx. “About the arm—”
“Don’t give a shit.” Sevika grinned, knowing exactly what she’d been going to ask. “You have any idea how many assholes thought they could get under my skin by calling me Righty?” Some also tried Lefty, thinking they were very clever. She used her flesh-and-blood to clobber them, as a reward.
Vi snorted laughter. “Noted.” She sobered. “You never answered my question though. Zaun, what is it?”
Sevika tried to get her thoughts in order. “What’s Zaun? The Undercity, and all its people.” A familiar stab of irritation. “Despite what you think, I do want something better for everyone down here.”
Vi leaned forward again, doing a pretty good job of projecting confidence. “Here’s where I stand: We fight for Zaun, so Zaun is everyone. Full stop. Sumprat, Lanes kid, Cliffsider, even any Pilties who can play nice.” She took a deep breath. “How many people join up determines what all we can manage, but whatever we do we do for them all, same as the Arvino job. We stop people getting hurt, and it doesn’t matter if that’s Enforcers, chem-thugs, or just some drunk asshole who decided to make his ky’peesh everyone’s problem.” Vi’s Chirean was better than Sevika’s, rolling off her tongue in a way that was pretty rare for a human. Plus, she was making decent points; she’d clearly been thinking about this for a while. “I’ve heard people talking, wondering if the Hound is making a play to be a new chem-baron.” She grimaced. “I don’t know what we’ll be, but we won’t be that.”
It'll get you one hell of a crowd for your execution, at least. Sevika hummed thoughtfully. “Everybody who wants in, huh?” She gave Vi a crooked smile. “Big idea, that.” Maybe even more ambitious than Vander. She nodded slightly. “To what end? Run more heists, get the Enforcers running, raise the banner of the Nation of Zaun?” She decided to be a little cruel, for the kid’s own good. “Protect your sister from your ex? Vice versa?”
Vi didn’t take the bait. Kid’s growing up. “Right now the gangs are weak and there’s no chem-barons left worth the name. There’s a lot of people out there who want to do something, but it’s scary as hell to go up against anyone alone; doesn’t matter if that’s Enforcers or a few thugs causing a ruckus on your block. We give them a name, people they can stand with, maybe that changes.” It wasn’t a bad point; the difference between a dozen trenchers and a team of twelve was pitch-black and chem-bright. “Right now, the Hound has support; can’t think of a better time to start building.”
Sevika nodded, impressed despite herself. “With you in charge, they might actually listen.”
Vi visibly bristled. “I’m not in charge.” Sevika’a confusion must have shown on her face because Vi closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I’ve made too many mistakes to be in charge of anything.” When she opened her eyes again, they looked downright haunted. “Even if people don’t know, I still used the Grey against this city.” She shook her head. “I let that happen.”
“And it was bad, but it doesn’t make you a monster.” Vi wasn’t the only one who’d been mulling over her little stint as an Enforcer, as much as Sevika hated to admit it. “You think you’re the only person who ever got their hands dirty trying to clean up the city?” She remembered Silco and his canister, but knew better than to say a damn word about it. “The Grey is messy, but a weapon is a weapon and this city’s seen a whole lot worse.” So far as she knew, nobody unaffiliated had actually died, and it had worked. “You went up against three chem-barons and now two of them are cooling their heels Topside while Smeech got smeared like the rat he was.” Sevika couldn’t stop herself from grinning at the memory of finally putting down that bedraggled little wretch once and for all. “I’m not saying you’re everyone’s favorite person, but anyone who knows you were an Enforcer also knows that we’d be a lot worse off right now if those morons were still flooding the lanes with Shimmer to try and get one over on each other.”
Vi shook her head. “You’re not getting it. I can’t be trusted to make the right call; if you put me in charge, sooner or later I’ll fuck it up again.” The set of her jaw told Sevika she wasn’t going to budge on this.
“Yeah, well, someone needs to be in charge or this whole thing’s gonna fall apart real quick.” Sevika sometimes woke up with a cold sweat in the middle of the night imagining that falling onto her.
“You sure about that? Whatever Zaun is, there’s been a boot on its neck for over two hundred years.” Vi wasn’t wrong; every child of the Undercity knew at least that much of their history. How those who had stayed after the fall of Oshra Va’Zaun, eking out a living in the sunken ruins of their home, had witnessed the arrival of others fleeing the chaos that engulfed the world. How the newcomers had brought with them wealth and power and staked their claim on the bones of the old city, named their new home Piltover, and declared that they would bring progress and prosperity to all. And, most of all, who exactly had been excluded from that promise and the pain that had been inflicted upon them every time they tried to get out from under Piltover’s thumb. “I can be the symbol, I can bring people to the table, but I’m not in charge.”
Sevika felt like she needed a little longer to process all of this. “Alright, then. You got a plan for how you’re gonna get anything done then?”
Vi nodded. “Believe it or not, yes.” She grinned, her scarred lip giving it a lopsided charm. “Look, for some reason you dumbasses are willing to listen to me, so I might as well use that for something.” She drew a set of lines radiating out from a single point on the table with her finger as Sevika pondered whether or not she should be insulted at being lumped in with all the other dumbasses down here. Not worth the grief. “People want to talk to me, that’s the first step in getting them talking to each other. I can be the center of it, but I’m not the one on top.”
Sevika shrugged. Not sure I see much difference, but whatever lets her sleep at night. She studied Vi, from the scars to the muscles to the pants and wraps that technically qualified as clothing. “Just checking, though; you’re not above pummeling some asshole who doesn’t listen, right?”
“Just because they don’t want to work with us? We leave ‘em be; we’re not Silco.” Vi grinned as if insulting Silco to Sevika’s face was some incredibly clever move. “But if someone messes with our people or tries to hex a job, I’ll be first in line to beat them down.”
It was better than nothing, at least. And maybe this actually works. It would certainly be different from what Silco had tried. “This not-gang of yours, it’ll have to grow quick.” The metal that had replaced her shoulder and most of the left side of her chest sometimes felt like it was hurting, as if it was still meat, and she rubbed it despite knowing it wouldn’t do any good. “You’re tight with Arnough, and if we can get a few others who command respect, that’s momentum.” The chem-barons and their most dedicated underlings might be out of the picture, but there were plenty of small-time bosses who had bowed to Silco when it was suicide to do otherwise but were loyal first and foremost to their street, block, or level. Some of them might actually appreciate being approached for something other than a one-off job or a demand that they pay tribute. And the ones who don’t, well, they’ll get to see whatever Jinx is cooking up for my new arm.
Vi nodded. “Talk to anyone you trust, find out what they’d need to jump on this. I’ll see what Ekko and Gert have to contribute. Don’t commit to anything just yet, just take the temperature and see what people are willing to do.” She was silent for a moment as she ran a hand through her hair; her fingers came out with faint black stains. “If Topside gets wind of us before we’re ready, all we’re going to do is join my parents at the bottom of whatever pit the Enforcers dumped their bodies in.”
Sevika felt her heart skip a beat, her good humor at what had to be the worst way to start a gang she’d ever heard vanishing at Vi’s last words. She pushed her chair back from the table and stood, looking down at Vi; the woman was all but unrecognizable as the mad brawler who had jumped her in this very room. Her once-vibrant hair was black with grease, her muscles were if anything more sharply defined after a month of pit fights and training on a diet that was never enough to put any fat on her bones, and there was a look in her eyes that, frankly, scared Sevika more than a little.
She’d seen madness of every kind before, including on the face of Vi’s own sister, and this wasn’t that. It was sharper, focused, present in a way that was dark and bone-deep, and Sevika knew that it would either carry Zaun to its freedom or condemn Vi to an early grave.
For the first time in years, Sevika let herself really think about Felicia. The purple-haired firebrand had been five or so years Sevika’s senior, just the right age for a young miner’s whelp to hold her in esteem that straddled the line between earnest admiration and confusing desire. Sevika had been content to watch, to be one of the many who gathered around her when she spoke of a better future, until the day when they’d finally done something about it only to see all their dreams came crashing down around them. And then…
She’d tried to do right by the kids, sparring with Vi and lending a helping hand to Powder’s nonsense inventions, working for Vander because it was what she would have done. Even after it all changed, once it was Jinx she was dealing with, Sevika couldn’t quite turn away. It had been, quite literally, the least she could do.
And then Vi returned, and everything changed again, and again, and again. Sevika had planted her feet in the soil of Zaun and told herself it was for the best, that Vi was betraying her mother’s legacy by working with Topside against Silco and her sister, but it was telling that it was only now, with all of them united again, that her mind didn’t shy away from Felicia’s memory. She’d be damn proud of Vi, that’s for sure. Connol would have been too; he’d been first and foremost a devoted husband and father. When he and Felicia had shacked up Sevika had been old enough to know that what she felt was jealous heartbreak, but watching him with his wife and daughters had made it clear that what they had was special. And now they’re gone. She was, for better or for worse, the only one these girls had left to watch over them.
One last chance not to fuck this up. She didn’t exactly have a great track record on that, but Janna, in her infinite cruelty and wisdom, had seen fit to drop this into her lap nonetheless. So however this Hound business ends, I do right by Felicia, by Connol, by everyone who’s loved these girls but isn’t here to show it. It wouldn’t be enough—Sevika would never be enough—but down here you did your best with what you had.
And what we’ve got is each other.
Caitlyn had slept better than usual last night, but even that came with its own twisted downside. She’d awoken to find the red jacket still clutched in her arms and hurriedly sealed it away again, chastising herself for succumbing to sleep and wasting so much time with her treasure out of its box. And yet, she had the feeling that she had slept better because of what she’d done, because her last thoughts before going to sleep were of Vi. As wretched as her guilt and self-loathing were when they reared their ugly heads, they left her feeling less empty than trying to keep everything locked away.
And so, though she was less bleary than usual as she descended the stairs for breakfast, her mood was dour. Not only for what had happened with the jacket—it had been almost a full week since she had last lapsed and opened that box, let alone slept with the thing—but because of Maddie as well. Caitlyn could only hope that the Junior Enforcer understood that the hollowness of what they had was in no way her fault. At least the prestige of being with a Kiramman might make up for some of the things I’m not giving her.
Her mother’s words, as ever, stuck in Caitlyn’s mind in a way they never had before her…when she had still been here. “These dalliances are a childish distraction; you require a worthy partner to stand beside you as a Kiramman.” Her mother would have approved of Maddie, Caitlyn knew; a woman of unimpeachable character and background who could stand at Caitlyn’s side in support and not mind the shadow cast by her name was exactly what the leader of House Kiramman required. And if what I feel for her isn’t—she cut that thought off before it could take root. She had put an end to that part of her life, and regardless of her feelings that door had closed. Maddie was enough, someone whom she could trust to take some of this burden from her shoulders. It’s not like I have to marry her. In fact, the thought of spending her life with the other woman roused something cold and hollow in her belly; the knowledge of what she could feel had corroded what would have, mere months ago, been a perfectly adequate attraction. And if Mother hadn’t died, if I hadn’t become the Kiramman Matriarch, I wouldn’t feel the need to make it into anything more. Perhaps, once Jinx was caught and the city was at peace, she would have the strength to cut Maddie loose and consign herself to the lonely fate that befit the woman who would be the last Kiramman. Who pushed away the woman she loved.
She passed the place where her mother had waited for her when Caitlyn was late to rise for a morning lesson, expression severe. “A Kiramman gives everyone the respect they deserve, and nobody we speak to is undeserving of respect.” All too often, whether due to a fit of childish discomfort or some ongoing argument between the two of them, she hadn’t met her mother’s eyes when Cassandra had spoken to her. And now I never will again. The fact that she would never again have words with her mother, would hear no more unwelcome wisdom, never spar with her over some issue or another…she nearly stumbled over her own feet as a spike of grief tore through her stomach.
She had been planning to grab her food and bring it upstairs—Maddie had gone to gather the overnight reports since Cassandra had insisted that the Kiramman estate not be part of the pneumatic network, so Caitlyn would be eating alone either way—but when she walked into the dining room all thought of work fled from her. Her father was sitting at the table, looking pale and unkempt with a gaze that took just a moment too long to meet her own, but he was here. She couldn’t even recall the last time she’d seen him at the breakfast table; she usually had Maddie check in on him around noon to make sure he had at least gotten out of bed. To her shame, Caitlyn found herself unable to face the haunted spirit her father had become, and so her subordinate had stepped in to make sure he was at least getting something to eat with his alcohol. Now, Caitlyn realized she didn’t know what to say.
“Good morning, Caity.” Her father’s voice was raspy, but Caitlyn’s heart broke at both the pain and the love in his words. His smile was a pale shadow of what it had been, but it was the same smile that so many times had been a lifeline extended into the all-consuming tempest of her mother’s expectations.
“You are a Kiramman; you will act like it.”
“Such behavior might be tolerated from a South Bank ruffian, Caitlyn, but not from the woman who will one day lead this house.”
“If I am hard on you, it is only because I know that you are capable of better.”
“It’s alright, kiddo; we love you no matter what.”
Caitlyn realized that the man who had raised her, the kind smile hovering behind her mother’s stern expectations, was still in there. With hands that she couldn’t quite stop from trembling, she spooned a portion of porridge—she hated the texture of it, but it took up space in her stomach and somehow had the power to make people ignore all the things she wasn’t eating—into a bowl. “Father.” She wouldn’t show weakness. “I’m glad to see that you are up and about.” She placed some shaddock slices into another bowl and put both it and the porridge onto a tray. There hadn’t been much point breaking her fast in the dining room of late.
Tobias sighed. “I…I wanted to…” He fell silent and reached out as if for Caitlyn’s hand, but pulled his own up short. “I…haven’t been…I just…I miss your mother so much.” He wiped at his eyes with an arm. “Won’t you stay and have breakfast with me?”
Caitlyn still felt a little paralyzed with shock. Just like that? He’d been a ghost in his own home for months and now he was just sitting across the table from her as if they could just…
She didn’t realize she’d sat until she felt the chair under her backside, and as she began to eat she couldn’t quite bring herself to look at her father. What does he want from me? She had a million things she’d wanted to say to him, but none of them came to mind in this moment.
They finished eating in silence, and Caitlyn wondered if it was as uncomfortable for him as it had been for her. What can I say to him after all this time? They ate dinner together, sometimes, and were mostly silent then, but she didn’t know how to start a day with this emptiness.
When she rose, however, her father did as well, and before she could process what was happening he had gripped her in a tight hug. “I love you, brilliant girl.” Her father’s Novari was far better than hers—young Caitlyn had spent more time trying to get out of her Ionian language lessons than she had diligently applying herself, which she bitterly regretted now—but his loving endearments would always have a place in her heart.
Caitlyn was so used to locking everything away, forcing inconvenient emotions and regrets into boxes she could lock deep within herself, that it was only with a distinct force of will that she was able to let herself relax into her father’s arms. Even then, as she wrapped her arms around him—he was troublingly thin under his robe; she would have to make sure he ate more—it felt nothing like the comforting embraces of her childhood. Perhaps both of us are too different from the people we were before. She sometimes felt like her mother’s death had also been the death of the person Caitlyn had been, the person who had not taken the shot that could have stopped Jinx, stopped all of this.
Caitlyn returned to herself as the ornate clock mounted behind the matriarch’s seat pealed out a set of seven chimes; Ambessa would be expecting her on her flagship in an hour’s time for their biweekly training session. They took most of the day and included weapons training, sparring, and lessons about military theory and history that often turned into philosophical arguments. Caitlyn appreciated what Ambessa was doing for her and understood how the uncertainty of Mel’s fate weighed on her mother, but she was not blind to the fact that if Ambessa had her way Caitlyn would find herself making choices of which her mother would never have approved. It was a delicate path she walked, and she couldn’t afford to face the formidable warlord with anything less than the entirety of her focus and composure. So, when her father let her go, she stepped away rather than seek out his touch again, regardless of what the child still living somewhere inside of her might want.
Still, as she bid him farewell and returned upstairs to dress herself for the day, she couldn’t help but wonder if this was the beginning of Tobias getting better.
And what does that mean, if he is able to find himself again? She didn’t let herself dwell too long on that thought, however. Our situations are entirely different. Tobias had lost the woman he loved to a tragedy, whereas Caitlyn had forced the woman she loved out of her life with deliberate cruelty. I did it for the both of us, but I still have to pay the price for hurting her. Stormy eyes staring up at her, filling with tears, changing from shock to disbelief at what they had just witnessed.
Ambessa spoke of the strength to do what must be done, but she was also fiercely loyal to her family and those who served her. She was quietly tearing herself apart over her failure to find Mel; Caitlyn didn’t want to imagine the disappointment in her advisor’s eyes if she confessed why Vi had not returned with her. They all think Vi abandoned me. While it was true that Vi standing between Caitlyn and her justice had wounded her to her core, Caitlyn knew that they could still have returned together, however angry they had been. She doesn’t leave the people she loves.
And so Caitlyn had indulged her fury, let out the darkness that had been simmering since the night that Jinx stole her mother’s life, took her from Caitlyn. She had known that it would drive Vi away, and she had made that choice. She had hurt the woman she loved, because she knew it was the only way that Vi would leave her, would find something better than the person Caitlyn had to become.
“Is that really why?” The voice was Jinx’s, a hateful taunt. She shoved it down and locked it away. It has to be. She had done it for love, to save Vi from this fate. If I didn’t—The thought refused to stay locked away, some days, and she sank down into her chair, forcing her face to neutral calm in the empty room. It will pass.
For the moment, though, it refused to leave, and so she forced herself to remember. How she had climbed back to Topside, her ears peeled for the sound of familiar boots tramping towards her. Every time she had sunk down to weep herself dry, she opened her eyes with the hope that she would be there. That she had come back, that her love was stronger than Caitlyn’s hate, that her cruel plan to set Vi free had failed and they would be together again.
That was what she hated herself for most of all. I hit her, and then I expected her to come and find me. Vi deserved so much better than a woman who would do that.
Her father deserved to be happy.
But I don’t.
She almost locked that thought away with the others, but instead decided to hold it close.
It’s what I deserve.
Ekko scratched the back of his head, thinking hard about Vi’s words. “So you’re gonna be, what, a gang wrangler?” He kept his voice calm, his words measured, as he tested the metal gangway with his foot. “Path’s solid.”
Vi braced herself against the rock wall and hopped the gap; clearly not trusting the haphazard bridge. Same as she ever did. “Yeah, I guess.” She sounded less aggrieved than he would have been at the thought of trying to get the whole of Zaun to play nice. Sounds like a neverending shitstorm.
“Guess Jinx was getting a little easy, needed a new headache or twelve?” Ekko barely remembered what it was like, stepping back and letting someone else take charge. “You’re gonna be tussling with half the bastards down here on the daily.” He was back in Benzo’s shop, watching Vi argue with someone while he and Powder sorted through the merchandise or made rude comments about whoever messed with their big sister. Days gone by, never to return. And yet, here they were. Me and Vi following a lead, with her sister tinkering back at home. It almost made him hopeful for the future, but he’d been at this too long to be quite that foolish. In another world, maybe.
Vi’s brief laugh chased him across the chasm, and for a moment it was like his big sister had never gone anywhere. Just then, however, something clattered off in the distance and Vi’s entire body went rigid with alarm. Ekko could see her breathing heavily, eyes wide and mouth tight, shoulders locked in place and hands clenched into fists. It vanished as quickly as it had come, however, and Ekko was left with nothing but an uncomfortable feeling that he’d seen something he wasn’t supposed to. He knew Vi wasn’t superhuman, that her time in Stillwater had left more scars than just the ones on her skin, but he didn’t know how to bring it up with her. For the moment, they had a job to do, and whatever it was had clearly passed, so there was no sense worrying about it further.
Loris, bringing up the rear just in case what would hold Vi and Ekko couldn’t manage the big guy, stepped off the bridge with a sigh of relief. Overhead, Scar crouched on a rocky ledge that no human would have been able to reach unaided, keeping an eye—and two Chirean ears—peeled for any Enforcers. The bluebellies didn’t have much of a presence this far west, but none of them wanted to take the chance. Besides, this way I don’t have to watch him scoff. Ekko trusted his deputy without question, but the tall Chirean was openly dismissive of any attempt to unite the Undercity, much less one spearheaded by onetime Enforcers and Silco’s closest allies, and had no qualms with letting Ekko know as much.
Loris had been there when Ekko had arrived at the Last Drop to grab backup so they could go investigate the cult that Gert’s girl had mentioned. Ekko couldn’t quite say why this group was such a stone in his gearbox—cults sprouted up down here with such frequency that they weren’t even really worth learning about until they either started bothering other people or got into the weird sex stuff—but ever since Jayce Tallis had stormed off in search of Viktor while muttering about the Arcane and stopping the end of the world, any mention of magic had set Ekko on edge. Worst case scenario, we run some recon on the West Fissure, make sure there isn’t a real threat out here. Truth be told, half of him had been using this as an excuse to spend a little more time with Jinx, to try and imagine a way forward for them.
However, Jinx was apparently spending the day with Isha, turning that hidey-hole workshop of hers into a place where they could stay if the Last Drop got raided, and so she’d been gone before Ekko turned up. The Last Drop was a solid building, but it was also the known headquarters of the last man to call himself Hound. Even without her, though, they had two Firelights and two former Enforcers—one of whom was Vi, which still didn’t quite feel real—to tromp into the lowest, most polluted parts of the Western Fissure in search of this magical healer.
Or so they had thought, except…
Ekko knew this area. Vi and Powder’s first home had been here, along with many others, before Mineshaft K-43 had contaminated the local groundwater beyond what filters could handle. Under Silco, the entire West Lanes had been left to rot; a miserable haven for those who had nowhere else to go. The people here had been the Undercity’s most desperate, eking out some semblance of a living after even the mangle mills turned them away. So what the fuck is this?
The tunnel they had been following opened onto a broad and airy expanse of yellow flowers. Meadow, the word is meadow. Even the air here was changed; the putrid haze that had hidden the sky from the fissure floor and burned the lungs of anyone who spent too long down here was completely absent, and the flowers were bathed in the warm glow of the afternoon sun. Finding a place like this in the Undercity, let alone the West Sump, was…
“Janna’s tits.” Vi’s voice was hushed. “When the fuck did this happen?” She was staring open-mouthed at the sight. Ekko noticed some unfamiliar buildings in the middle of the flowers, looking like a blend of the scrap shacks so common to the Undercity’s sumps and architecture that was unlike anything he’d ever seen, wild and almost organic.
Wild Runes. The similarity came to him unbidden, and he grimaced. Is this what Tallis was scared of? He knew better than to judge something on appearances alone, but he had a hard time believing that a dozen or so buildings and the robed figures who were now gathering to regard their party curiously could end the world. He didn’t even see a weapon among them.
One of the figures stepped forward, and with a start Ekko recognized someone looked an awful lot like Huck. He’d been a decent man, once, but the last he’d heard—
Vi stepped forward, fists raised. “Traitor!” The rage in her voice was palpable, and Ekko
Huck took a step back, his own hands raised in surrender rather than aggression. “Vi, you don’t need to worry about me.” He smiled at them, and Ekko noticed odd patches on his skin, resembling some sort of growth. Looks a bit like those Wild Runes again. He shifted his weight, his trusty pipe solid on his back. Huck took another step forward. “What I did to you, I will forever regret, but that was me at my worst self.” He smiled again. “The Herald freed me.”
“Isn’t that convenient?” Vi crossed her arms. “And let me guess, the Herald told you that all the bad stuff you did doesn’t count because now you’ve been saved?” She glanced back at Ekko and rolled her eyes. “Got guys like this in Stillwater all the time. Miraculously absolved of every harm they ever caused, because now they’re a new man.”
“No.” Huck’s smile had vanished. “I don’t expect your forgiveness, Vi, and I’m not certain I deserve it.” He waved them forward. “It comes and goes; the clarity. It all changed when the Visitor arrived.”
“The Visitor?” Ekko had a sinking feeling in his gut. “Big guy, dark skin, beard, carried a fucked-up hammer?”
Huck began walking. “If you would follow me.” Ekko saw Vi and Loris exchange a quick glance before following. Scar raised a questioning eyebrow at Ekko, who shrugged in response. If it all goes to shit, got my board and my bludgeon. Scar had his spear and was never without his blades, and Vi could do more damage with her bare hands than any ten chem-toughs. As for Loris, Ekko had to imagine that growing up that size in Noxus had resulted in him learning something. He’d never seen the big guy actually throw a punch or carry a weapon, though. Worst comes to worst, we can hide behind him.
The cluster of buildings—what’s the point at which something becomes a compound—had no visible defenses, and the people they saw were largely unarmed. Some of them carried large knives at their waists or picks slung across their backs, but considering how many of them also seemed to be tending to gardens or hauling metal or rocks around, they might well just be work tools. Ekko reached forward and tapped Huck on the shoulder. “Nobody’s given you any trouble down here?”
Huck shook his head. “We keep to ourselves for the most part. Before—” He winced for a moment as if in pain, then continued. “Things changed, and people will go see family or loved ones sometimes, but none of us want trouble.”
“Don’t want to share, either.” Vi’s voice was dry as they passed a greenhouse, the view through the windows revealing a woman plucking blue fruit from heavily laden branches. “Don’t know how you cleared the air and got fruit trees growing down here, but if you could do it in the West Lanes I’d wager you could make it work anywhere.”
“You’ll have to ask the Herald about that.” Huck hurried onwards, towards a roughly spherical building easily twice as large as any of the others. “Please, he’s just in here.”
Ekko had a pretty good idea of who they were about to meet, and when they stepped through the door and beheld two figures huddled over a table, foreheads pressed together, his suspicions were confirmed. He turned to the one he didn’t recognize, a thin man who had at first glance appeared to be wearing a bodysuit made of some dark and uncanny material. If it wasn’t for his face, I’d think he was some sort of vastaya or the like. “Viktor, I presume?” He spared Tallis a glance. Still looks like shit. “You save the world yet, Man of Progress?”
“He’s done more than he had thought possible, son of Wyleth.” Ekko had heard of Viktor, of course—Zaun had known about the man who’d really created Hextech for years—but he hadn’t been expecting to hear his father’s name from this weird Arcaned-up version of him. What kind of trickery is that? “He has shown me what my path could be.” Nothing was exactly wrong with his smile, but it was unnerving nonetheless. “We’ve had a lively debate these past few days, haven’t we, Jayce?”
“Viktor has agreed to…ease off on all this.” Jayce waved a hand vaguely. His eyes had an odd glow to them, as though some of Viktor’s power was living in him now too. “We’ve…I’ve let him see into my mind, and I’ve seen his.” His eyes flicked back to Viktor, who nodded. “There’s a darkness at the heart of Hextech, and Viktor sees that now.” He reached out and put a hand on Viktor’s shoulder. “Together, we can contain it.”
“That so?” Vi was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, looking profoundly unamused. “Ekko says you were raving about the end of the world when he found you, but now you’re just willing to let it be?” She leaned forward, looking Viktor up and down. “He give you clarity like he did that bastard Huck outside? Help you see things his way?”
“Never!” Viktor’s voice was measured, but there was real hurt in his rejoinder. “I have shown Jayce the world as I see it, and he has done the same. We are each entirely ourselves.”
Vi nodded slowly, and Ekko was put in mind of how she’d used to watch the Lanes kids hash out their disagreements. Always listening, picking up the things that weren’t said. “And how’s that square with what Jayce saw? Stuck his head into the Arcane and saw you end the world, right?” Ekko hadn’t told anyone about the other world, least of all Vi. He’d alluded to visions and knowledge, but nothing else. I don’t know which would be worse, Vi thinking I’m crazy or her believing me that there’s a world out there where Powder burns incense at her memorial every night. When Vi had returned he’d slipped all too easily back into seeing in her the big sister who would stand between him and any danger, but some things even Vi couldn’t fight.
Jayce glanced down at the space between him and his onetime partner. “I think…” He looked at Ekko. “I want there to be a better way.”
“As do I.” Viktor’s voice was quiet. “I only ever wanted people to be free of the things that pain them.” He held up a hand, his strange mottled skin moving just a little more than could be explained by the gesture alone. “My entire life, I was plagued by my illness, by my body. If I can take that burden from others, give them the same gift that was given to me, how can I refuse to do so?”
“Because you’re in their heads.” Jayce stood. “If you could heal someone without linking them to that…thing, it might be different, but until we understand exactly how it works, we can’t take that chance.”
Viktor frowned. “I understand your concern, my friend, but with so much suffering it feels wrong to let it go unaddressed.”
“Then help in other ways.” Vi leaned forward. “The air, the flowers, being able to grow crops here could do more than any magic healing.” She waved at the door. “Or is it magic that cleared the air as well?”
“The flowers.” Ekko hadn’t realized he’d spoken until he saw everyone looking at him. It’s what Claggor was talking about in the other world. “The flowers clean the air, don’t they?”
Viktor nodded. “They’ve grown wild down here for so long, but in greater numbers…” He closed his eyes. “It is not an easy thing, nurturing them through their first bloom, but it can be done.”
“Do they need sunlight, or specific chems?” Vi’s voice was unsteady, and there was an odd look in her eyes. “If we could actually get them growing like this all over…”
“I guided them with the Arcane, but I do not know if it is necessary.” Viktor smiled. “I suppose we will just have to experiment.” He sounded genuinely excited at the prospect. “My own knowledge of Chemtech is rudimentary at best, but I am certain that Hextech—”
“No magic.” Jayce’s voice was hard. “If we can’t grow them without Hextech, without the Arcane, then we don’t.”
“That’s easy for you to say, sitting here.” Even if he’d wanted to, Ekko doubted he could have kept the irritation out of his voice. “Now that we’re the ones who might benefit, suddenly you’re concerned about side effects?” He jabbed a finger at Viktor. “Though I guess that coming from the guys who signed off on putting the Hexgate anchor in Zaun, I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re not exactly about progress for all.”
“You don’t understand!” Jayce spun on his heel, only to find Vi already interspersing herself between him and Ekko, fists half-raised in warning. Tallis took a step back and held up his hands in surrender. “Sorry, sorry.” His words were calmer now. “I think maybe there’s a way to keep using Hextech, but we need to understand things a lot better before I’m comfortable saying that. Using any sort of magic to grow plants, though?” He shook his head. “Think about the Wild Runes; they’d be twisting whatever you make before it was half-grown.”
“Has that happened with the crops here?” Loris looked down at the half-peeled fruit in his hand as he spoke. “Just out of curiosity.”
Viktor smiled. “Not at all. Everything has grown exactly as it should—“
“And the buildings were supposed to have those patterns on them, were they?” The way Jayce was speaking made it clear this was not the first time they’d been down this tunnel. “You meant to have them come out looking like that?”
“Growth is not the same as design.” There was clear irritation in Viktor’s voice now. “We required a place to sleep, to shelter, to call home. Scraps became sanctuary; other concerns were secondary.”
“Plenty of buildings for the taking, even all the way out here.” Vi was pacing the room, studying the walls. “Lot easier to fix ‘em up instead of building from scratch. Any reason you went with these creepy balls instead?”
“Does it matter?” Oh yeah, Viktor’s definitely irritated now. Ekko caught Loris smirking slightly; apparently the big guy also appreciated how good Vi was at getting under people’s skin.
“You know, some folks in Stillwater thought that if they acted Piltie enough, they could get that sump stink off of ‘em.” Vi shrugged, rapping on one wall with a knuckle. “Don’t know who they thought they were fooling; if any Pilties did get thrown in there, they sure weren’t down on the sublevels. But they’d still try; some of ‘em even started talking to the guards like it was them against us.” She shook her head. “Dumb bastards usually stopped after a beating or two, but some of them kept at it.” She skewered Viktor with a glare. “Really thought they could pretend their way out of the pits.”
The sight of Vi standing up for Zaun, for the people of the Undercity, sent a surge of warmth through Ekko. Vi had been the one who had lit that flame in him, who had made damn sure that he never forgot that being from Zaun was an honor. “They try and beat us down, Little Man, but that only means we have to come back stronger.” When she’d come back after Stillwater, when she’d arrived with that Piltie in tow, he couldn’t really blame her for hating what Silco had done to their home. But she never forgot.
Viktor’s brown furrowed and his mouth opened, but it was Jayce Tallis who leapt in, arm raised as if he was giving a speech. “Now look here! Viktor’s done good work, and he had nothing to be ashamed of. Just because he wants something better than living in the filth down here—“
Scar’s snarl almost drowned out Vi’s bark of angry laughter, but both of them were silence by a swirl of light and sound erupting from around Viktor. Vi’s hands were raised as she dodged in front of Ekko, who had the chain of his time canister half-pulled before he realized that the shocking display had been followed by nothing but Viktor’s low voice as he and Jayce argued, words spilling over each other as they leaned so close together and stared at each other with such intensity that Ekko briefly wondered if the rumors he’d heard about Tallis and the Medarda Councilor were false. Or maybe it’s the three of them; what do I know?
Finally, both Jayce and Viktor raised their heads again, Jayce looking chagrined behind his beard. “That was…I should have phrased that better.”
“Or maybe you should have just known better than to say it at all.” Vi shrugged and cracked her knuckles. “Long story short, we don’t have to worry about some army of freaky magic cultists coming swarming out of this place, right?”
Viktor nodded emphatically. “Whatever happens, I never wanted that. If it did—“ He shook his head. “Now that I know it could have occurred, I will ensure that it does not.” He looked at the four of them, eyes wide. “You must believe me.”
Vi gave an irritated grunt. “I must do jack shit, but if you’re willing to share any extra food and work with our people to get those flowers growing other places, I’m willing to look the other way on all…this.” She jabbed a finger at Jayce. “And you; are you just going to hang out down here forever?”
Jayce grimaced. “Right now, this is where I need to be. Stopping this—“
Vi raised a hand. “Yeah, I heard.” She lowered it and leaned in, lowering her voice so Ekko could barely hear her. “I don’t know what you and Caitlyn are to each other, but I know she cares about you, and right now I think she could use all the friends she can get.” Ekko knew Vi well enough to see how sad saying those words made her, and wondered again what in the Void had happened between them. Not letting her kill Jinx couldn’t have done this, could it? She hadn’t seemed the type to lose herself in bloodlust, but he hadn’t seen her since she’d lost her mother, so what did he know.
Jayce was already shaking his head. “As long as Ambessa’s up there, I’m staying far away. I don’t know what she’d do to get her hands on Hextech, but right now the only two people who can fabricate the gemstones are sitting in this room.” He looked plaintively at Vi. “How’s…is Caitlyn doing okay?”
Vi scowled. “I’m the wrong person to ask.” She made a fist and looked for a moment like she was about to punch the wall, but instead slammed it into the palm of her other hand with a snarl. “She cut me loose, made it clear I’m not up to her standards.”
Jayce’s mouth had dropped open. “She what? Why would she—“
“Ask her yourself, Pretty Boy.” Vi was facing away from them, bracing herself against the wall. “I’m not playing go-between for you two—“
Jayce shoved himself to his feet. “Look! I’m trying to stop my partner from ending the world and keep the tech that could do it out of the hands of a Noxian warlord! I don’t think it’s too much to ask for an update on how Sprout’s doing!” He remained upright for a moment longer before wincing and collapsing back into his chair.
Vi had turned in time to see him collapse, and Ekko didn’t miss the instinctive step forward she took before catching herself. She crossed her arms and stared down at him. “Caitlyn’s in no danger, except maybe from overwork. Anything more than that, we can discuss once you start showing us how to get those flowers blooming.”
Jayce gritted his teeth, holding his leg. “Deal.” He glanced at Viktor. “And, uh, any word on Mel?”
“Medarda?” Vi’s brow furrowed. “I haven’t heard anything, so I’d assume she’s living it up Topside with Caitlyn and that scary-ass mom of hers.”
Jayce chuckled, then winced. “If she and Ambessa are in the same room, I doubt either one of them’s having a good time.”
Vi made a thoughtful noise. “So if Noxians were in Enforcer uniforms, you don’t think Mel would like that?”
Jayce shook his head vigorously, still gripping his leg. “She—aah!—she didn’t talk about her mother much, but they had some sort of falling out over Mel being too soft.” He laughed. “Mel wrung her hands about sending in the Enforcers at all; she’d never let her mother’s legions off their leash.”
“Yeah, well, the people you love can surprise you.” Vi’s voice was soft and pained as she turned away. “I’d like this to be the start of a mutually beneficial partnership. Even if you don’t get the healing working again, those flowers could be a game-changer for a lot of people down here.” She knelt in front of Viktor, who was sitting, head bowed, with both hands folded over his staff. “I don’t know if you still think of yourself as one of us, but you grew up down here. Giving the kids out there clean air, clean water, that’s a miracle in itself, no magic required.”
“But it will be an awful lot of work.” Viktor’s voice was light. “And our people have never excelled at pulling together.”
Vi stood, adjusting her jacket. “It’s not the pulling we need to figure out, just the direction.” She nodded at the two of them. “We’ll be in touch.”
Once they were outside, Vi said nothing until they were past the outermost buildings and among the flowers once more. “Scar, I want a Firelight keeping an eye on this place at all times. They get so much as a whiff of anything off, we need to know.” Scar gave Ekko a quetioning look, and he nodded. Do as she says. Vi glanced at Ekko too, a moment later. “You’ve spent more time with Jayce than me; what’s your read?”
Ekko couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re asking me? I spent all of six hours with the guy.” He gave Vi a sidelong glance. “You trust him?”
“I trust you, and your judgement, on just about anything.” Vi’s response was immediate, and it warmed Ekko’s heart. “I trust Loris to have my back, and I trust Scar to look out for the Firelights.” Ekko glanced at their companions, neither of whom looked terribly put out by Vi’s assessment. “I trust Jinx to look out for Isha and do her best by the two of us, for whatever that’s worth, and I trust Sevika to be a sour old bitch who actually gives a shit deep down.” She shrugged. “Past that, I trust everyone in this city to look out for themselves and not an inch further. My read is that Jayce wants to save the world, and this is how he’s convinced himself he can do it.” She must have caught the look Ekko was sending her, and shrugged. “It’s a little embarrassing how easy he is to manipulate; keeping him the hell away from Topside is probably for the best.”
Well, she’s not wrong. As they approached the tunnel that would take them back to the rest of the Undercity, and the chasm of work that awaited them, he was unable to stop himself voicing one final, irreverent thought.
“They start getting too weird, we can always drop the roof on ‘em.” Dozens of structurally dubious buildings dotted the West Fissure Cliffs; it would be trivial to rig a few of them to fall should anything Jayce had ranted about actually start looking like it would come true.
Vi laughed. “Damn straight, Little Man.”