Chapter Text
The Piltovans were on edge. While they had known war would eventually find their way to their city, it was the first attack they’d seen directly targeting them—on Progress Day no less. This would not—could not be overlooked, and it was so easy for them to imagine how things would escalate from then on. The next scene did nothing to alleviate their brewing worries.
The morning light unveiled the aftermath of Jinx’s heist in Jayce and Viktor’s laboratory. The place had been ransacked. Any furniture that wasn’t too heavy or fixed had been knocked over, and countless papers and notebooks laid abandoned on the floor amidst the chaos. Once understated, the room was now filled with colors. The walls were covered with doodles; yellow little stars with blue monkey here, a red hammer and a few nails there… But the highlight was the explosion drawn over the window, and the couple of ‘Booms’ scribbled around it. At its center, the Talis anvil stood there, covered with spilled paint and the stolen model Progress Day airship placed on top, a mockery replacement of what was once there.
“She took her time,” noted Benzo concernedly.
And why wouldn’t she? The enforcers guarding the place were out, and any new squad would be focused on rescuing survivors and dealing with the aftermath of her bomb, completely unaware of the intruder within their walls.
Still, she’d taken risks, and it was everything against what Vander taught his kids. Jobs needed to be fast and clean—in and out, without anything to track them back. Yet, not only had Jinx taken her sweet time, she’d practically signed her crime scene! What was Silco teaching her? Even he couldn’t be that reckless.
“The gemstone is gone,” said Viktor on the recording, and only then a collective gasp erupted, as everyone truly realized the purpose of this attack. “Along with some of our research papers.”
“Oh gods,” muttered Jayce. “She stole the gemstone.”
Of all the people that could have gotten their hands on it, it had to be the unstable child with an affinity to bombs and working for the man who wanted nothing more than to destroy them.
“Can she even use it?” Grayson wondered.
“She stole our research papers too,” replied Viktor.
He understood the sheriff’s doubts. One could have all the materials in the world at their disposal, it would still be pointless if they didn’t know how to use them. Even with the stolen notes, it would be difficult for someone to figure out how to utilize the gemstone. He and Jayce had only started to figure out how complex the technology was these past couple of days since they discovered the time capsule. They’d managed to refine a gemstone, but the instructions had all been there, clear and detailed. Viktor doubted there would be anything similar in the stolen papers. Not to mention the girl had no formal education, did she? And yet…
He’d seen her progress throughout the years, he couldn’t help but think that the young girl might just be bright enough. He’d been in her place before. He knew what it was like to be spurned and mocked. But he also knew that if she’d been desperate enough to nurture her talent despite everything else, then she might just be able to make something out of the gemstone.
“The situation is still developing,” Marcus explained. “No one in the Undercity has claimed responsibility yet.”
In the Council chambers, the atmosphere was grim. The councilors had called for an urgent meeting as soon as the incident reached their ears.
Heimerdinger stood wistfully in front of the window, watching the bleak aftermath of Jinx’ attack outside. The scene had been cleared of most of the wreckage, but the burn marks on the ground remained. Where once stood a proud Piltovan building was now a barren land of ashes and charcoal.
“How did it come to this?” sighed the yordle.
Brows knitted as everyone knew the answer perfectly.
The two partners sat despondently in their chair as they faced the council—a contrast to the sheriff standing proudly at their side.
“For too long has the Underground been left unchecked,” started Hoskel, fiddling with the contraption in his hands.
“Is… Is that the freaking toy?” Claggor couldn’t help but ask as he recognized the trinket the councilor was gifted seven years ago.
If Benzo snorted loudly, clearly amused, Vander only sighed as he dragged a palm across his face.
Vi huffed, completely dumbfounded. “You’ve got to be joking.” This was one of their city’s leaders?
“Even I would have solved it in a day!” exclaimed Mylo.
And that was true. He might not be the brightest of the bunch when it came to solving things, but this was a goddamn child toy for Janna’s sake! Seven freaking years! This guy couldn’t be for real.
But he was. The wry smile forming on Mel’s lips and the displeased grimace of Cassandra confirmed it.
“We’ve lost touch,” admitted Shoola. “They may not be your preferred constituents, but they’re still our people.”
The trenchers huffed once more. Pilties really didn’t know how to treat their people then.
“The Undercity cannot be controlled. Not by us,” added Cassandra.
“Damn right.” For once, the kids agreed with the councilors.
“So where does that leave us?”
“Mr. Talis?” called Councilor Bolbok. The young inventor raised his head hesitantly. “Could the trenchers build a weapon with the stolen crystal?”
It was Councilor Hoskel who replied in his stead. “Shimmer, body replacements… We’ve seen their ingenuity over the years, of course they can!”
“As if he knows anything about ingenuity,” Ekko muttered, as his friends snorted at the comment.
The councilors didn’t pay them attention. While the continued mockery was becoming tiring, Hoskel did deserve the criticism. For someone supposed to lead the city, he sure lacked the required qualifications, or even the motivation.
Jayce considered his answer carefully before he got up to his feet to address the Council.
“If the right person got a hold of it, it’s possible they could utilize its energy.”
“Powder is the right person,” Ekko stated. It wasn’t a boast, it was just a fact.
“Could she really, though?” wondered Claggor.
Just like Grayson, he suspected her resourcefulness wouldn’t be enough to use the gemstone. He didn’t doubt Powder’s talent when it came to tinkering. Though it needed to be polished around the edges, her older self had clearly managed to figure things out. But this sciency stuff seemed beyond her domain of expertise. Pilties spent years of their life studying this at the Academy, Powder just… tinkered.
“Well, if anyone can, it’s her,” sighed Vi. This time, there was no pride in her voice, only worry, and the others could merely nod in agreement.
“We need to address this immediately,” said Cassandra. Though the councilwoman appeared calm, her daughter had been injured in the incident, so she didn’t intend to take things lightly.
Viktor gripped his crutch, ready to stand, but Jayce thrust an arm before him to signal him not to move.
“I agree. It was my responsibility to safeguard this technology and I failed,” he said as Heimerdinger finally turned away from the window to join the others at the table.
The admission forced a grimace on Jayce’s face. It wasn’t the first time it happened, and he was starting to understand his professor’s up-most priority when it came to safety.
“My mistake cost people their lives,” he went on as he walked forward until he was at the center of the table, facing the Council as he had seven years prior. “I have come before you to recommend that we suspend all Hextech operations until the situation is resolved. Including our laboratories, the refinery… and the Hexgates.”
The reactions were immediate. If the surprise silently settled on Viktor and Mel’s faces, the others were much more vocal about it.
“Have you lost your mind?” accused Hoskel as he slammed his palms against the table.
“The Hexgates must remain open,” Shoola emphasized in turn. “Piltover’s status as a global shipping lane depends on it. Thousands would lose their incomes.”
The trenchers rolled their eyes.
“Of course that’s what worries them,” groaned Vi. “Piltover’s status.”
“Can’t risk their reputation,” huffed Mylo.
Even they knew when to reconsider their priorities. Vander had chosen his people’s safety over his ambition, despite it meaning they would keep choking slowly under Piltover’s hold. What oppression did the Pilties face in their lives that they couldn’t let go of their greed?
“It’s not about reputation,” Caitlyn defended. “She just said it; the economy depends on it.”
“What differences would that make from now?” retorted Vi. “There are no Hexgates right now, are there? Yet your economy seems perfectly fine.”
“You… can’t expect people to just return to a past model!”
“We’re talking about thousands of people losing their jobs,” Cassandra added. “It’s just not feasible.”
“You can always send’ em to the mines,” joked Benzo.
Snickers immediately erupted as the kids pictured a bunch of Pilties working deep in the Fissures, their delicate hands swinging pickaxes and their silky clothes ruined by a thick layer of soot.
Indeed, there were never enough workers in the mines to satisfy Piltover’s demands. How ironic would it be for Pilties to mine their own resources while breathing the shitty smog they produced?
The mother and daughter duo did not find this image nearly as amusing.
“But, shouldn’t the safety of Piltover be our first priority?” the on-sceen Jayce asked.
Heimerdinger nodded, giving his pupil an approving glance.
“You would sacrifice your life’s work?” his other self softly remarked. There was genuine surprise in his tone, and the yordle could understand why.
He had met numerous brilliant pupils in his long life, but few would have been willing to abandon their dream for the sake of others. Stanwick had been one of them and Jayce, he was starting to understand, would be another.
Mel, on the other hand, had picked on another realization. She hadn’t missed the way her future self perked at the professor’s remark nor the smug smile playing on her lips. She had recognized an opportunity and she was never one to let an opportunity go.
“Without the Hexgates, my goods cannot reach foreign markets till winter!” Hoskel exclaimed before a baffled scoff escaped him. “Am I to tell the Noxians their next shipment of wine will be vinegar?”
This time, trenchers weren’t the only ones to roll their eyes at the ridiculous complaint.
“Does he care about anything else other than his own interest?” groaned Jayce. People had died .
Cassandra sighed. “I’m afraid not.”
Although it wasn’t uncommon for each clan to defend their own interest on the Council, Hoskel had never shown any willingness to do more than that. He’d always been a thorn on her side when it came to voting matters.
“Fantastic,” groaned Vi.
“Councilors,” called Mel, “it appears we are at an impasse. If we shut down the Hexgates, the city will suffer.”
She waited, letting her words sink for a bit as she intertwined her fingers, elbows resting on the table.
“But if we do nothing, we leave ourselves vulnerable to malefactors. More lives may be lost. Perhaps the time has come to explore a more radical solution.”
“What are you suggesting?”
The Piltovans were as confused as Cassandra on the recording.
“Mr. Talis has demonstrated his commitment to our safety. He’s willing to sacrifice his own enterprise. And it seems to me only Mr. Talis has the knowledge necessary to secure the Hexgates.”
‘Ah, so this is where she was going.’
“I propose that a new chair be brought forth, and that House Talis be elevated to this august body.”
The gasps around her were immediate, and Mel couldn’t say she was surprised. While the trenchers didn’t seem to grasp the importance of this motion, as small as it seemed, her other self was essentially suggesting they modify the very core of their political structure, and by doing so, she was opening doors to other potential changes. Her fellow councilors realized that immediately.
For Jayce though, the root of his surprise was entirely different.
“What?”
Just like his future self, he couldn’t comprehend the motion. His was a family of toolmakers. For generations, the Talis contributed to build the city, not govern it, and although he had managed to exceed expectations and become a scientist instead of following his family’s footsteps, Jayce had never dreamed of joining his patron at the Council table.
“As a Councilor, he will have the resources necessary to protect all our investments,” Mel went on, completely uncaring for his and his other self’s growing panic.
“Councilor Medarda, this is highly irregular. The Council has held seven seats for generations,” said Councilor Shoola.
Although they didn’t say anything, Cassandra and Heimerdinger both nodded at her words. For the trenchers, however, the argument was worthless.
“Well, what’s one more at this point?” shrugged Benzo.
Their councilors were already doormats as far as they were concerned, one more wouldn’t make the difference.
“It’s not about the number of seats,” Grayson replied, “it’s about the person sitting on it.”
“Only the leaders of carefully chosen houses have ever held a seat at the Council,” explained Cassandra.
“You mean the wealthiest,” deadpanned Vi.
The young girl failed to see how that made them more qualified to govern the city than anyone else, and she wasn’t the only one. The snorts spreading among the trenchers were telling enough.
“Our members are prepared to step into this role from an early age,” emphasized Cassandra.
She was only taken aback for half a second when the scoffs redoubled, as she realized that while she had indeed been carefully groomed to be a leader, and she did her best to prepare her daughter next, it wasn’t the case for everyone. Hoskel was only one example, and it was clear the kids were thinking about him as they exchanged smug smirks.
For Jayce though, the argument was pointless. He wasn’t ready to become a councilor. He didn’t even think he wanted to be a councilor.
“Does the boy have any experience?” asked Councilor Hoskel.
No, he didn’t. Not at all.
“Only that of a scientist. Like Heimerdinger.”
Most Piltovans paused as they realized the other Mel made a good point, and Mel could see the balance slowly tipping into her favor, both in this and into the other reality. Despite being the oldest member of the Council, the yordle was no leader.
Viktor, however, silently disagreed with this reasoning.
‘This isn’t comparable.’
Even if he didn’t actively partake in decisions, the professor had been a member of the Council for 200 years. This alone was experience.
There was a short moment of silent consideration, both on screen and off screen, before the holographic yordle exhaled softly.
“I believe Councilor Medarda is right,” Heimerdinger said. “Hextech security should be administered by a scientist. I second the motion.”
Jayce’s eyes widened as he glanced at Heimerdinger. “Professor?”
But the yordle merely replied with a smile and a nod of the head. If Jayce was like Stanwick, willing to give his contributions up for others, then it was only fair that as the dean of the Academy, he gave him all the resources he needed so that no unnecessary sacrifices would be required.
Jayce felt his heart tightened. He was perfectly aware of Piltover’s stance against magic, which is why he shared his dream to only a handful of people. Receiving this kind of trust, from Heimerdinger nonetheless, was more than he’d ever hoped for, and more meaningful than any seat at the Council.
“Well then, shall we vote?” Mel proposed.
Unlike Jayce however, the councilwoman knew, just like her other self knew; between the professor’s endorsement and the desire of the other councilors to protect their interest, the decision had already been taken. There would be an eighth seat at the Council table.
Cassandra sighed softly. She, too, could already guess the outcome of this vote, and although she wasn’t as reluctant about it as before, she still had her reservations.
She’d nurtured Jayce’s talents for years, she had no doubts about his potential, but although she had no experience in being a scientist, she knew what it took to be a councilor, and she doubted it was within her protégé’s capabilities. But Mel and Heimerdinger did have a point: who else but the creator of Hextech himself to secure the project, and how else would he do it without the Council’s ressources?
“That it, then?” Mylo asked as the screen turned black. “He’s a councilor?”
Claggor shook his head, “There’s no way they voted him in.”
“I bet they did,” joined Ekko.
“Ugh, whatever,” groaned Vi.
He would just become even more obnoxious then, but really. Whatever. Not their problem.
Caitlyn, on the other hand, considered the matter to be very personal.
“I’m sure you were voted in,” she told her friend confidently.
Though the idea of Jayce becoming her mother’s coworker was… peculiar to say the least —would she have to call him Sir, now? How does that even work?—, she had no shortage of admiration for him, so she was glad the Council could start seeing it too, especially after he was so easily dismissed years earlier.
Jayce chuckled softly, “I’m not sure, Cait.”
But the young girl’s smile didn’t falter.
“Councilor Talis,” she teased, testing the new title.
And though he rolled his eyes, feigning exasperation, she could see the corner of his lips curling upward.
The change of scenery in the recording put an end to the playful banter.
♪ Wanna join me ♪
“The fuck it is now?” Mylo frowned.
♪ Come and play? ♪
“I guess we’re back at the Last Drop,” inferred Claggor.
The last time they saw it, their home-turned-night-club had been drowned in deafening music too. But the next image of the recording disproved his guess.
“…or not.”
The kids immediately recognized the gramophone appearing on the screen; it was the one they currently had in their room, and that, apparently, Powder had reclaimed for her lair.
The usual stillness of the deep crevasse was disturbed as Jinx worked cheerfully in her hideout, unbothered by the loud music blasting in her ears. Whatever chased the silence chased the voices plaguing her head as well, so she was as focused on her task as she could be.
“She looks… alright,” Vi noted, a tad surprised.
It was the happiest she’d seen her sister since the demise of their family. She actually seemed at peace, dancing and bobbing her head to the music as she worked, and it wouldn’t be so disturbing if it wasn’t for the fact that she’d just murdered a whole bunch of enforcers. Power was clearly in her element in this chaotic place she claimed as hers.
♪ But I might shoot you ♪
“Uh… Is it me or is that Powder’s voice singing?” Claggor asked hesitantly.
♪ In your face ♪
“What? There’s no way,” snorted Mylo.
♪ Bombs and bullets will do the trick ♪
“Nevermind, it’s definitely her.”
Who else would sing about bombs and bullets?
What the fuck? She’s vibing to her own song? Who does that? It’s a nice song, Mylo could admit it, but who vibes to their own— No wait, why does she even have a song in the first place? How did she recor— Who recorded her? Why?
What the fuuuuck?
“What is she doing?” Viktor asked, much more interested in whatever the girl was crafting.
She had safety goggles on and seemed to be using a welding torch, but it was hard to catch a glimpse of her work as she kept moving around so much. How could she even work like this? One moment, she was dancing, the other, she was spinning on her stool.
“Jinx!” Silco called as he appeared behind the young girl, but the deafening music drowned his voice.
“Shit,” cursed Vi. He didn’t look happy.
Jinx remained unaware of his presence, letting herself roll on her chair as she sang along her own song pretending the nearest wrench she found was a mic.
♪ What do we need here ♪
Silco flailed his arms behind her, trying to catch her attention, but it was to no avail.
“Jinx!” he tried once more.
The teenager bobbed her head, increasing the intensity of each jerk to match the tempo as she happily inspected the blueprint in her hands.
♪ Is a little bit of panic! ♪
“Jinx!”
The scene was almost comical, very reminiscent of a parent exasperated by their teenager’s antics, but Silco wasn’t anyone, and he was certainly no parent. The douchebag clearly had no qualms killing children, and that was her sister here. Vi could only fear what he would do to Powder now that he was really pissed.
Shit.
“Is she going to be alright?” feared Caitlyn.
She, too, was starting to worry for the teenager. Despite her earlier stunt, she didn’t wish for her to be in trouble.
“ Jinx!”
Still blissfully deaf to the angry presence behind her, the young girl continued to vibe to her song as she inspected her craft closer with a magnifying glass, and it was only then that they could all see what she was really working on.
“Are those the butterflies from the fair?” realized Jayce. “She stole those too?”
“What is she going to do with them?” Caitlyn asked.
Neither Jayce, Viktor nor Heimerdinger replied. Even Ekko was at loss with whatever Powder was planning. At first glance, the mechanical butterfly didn’t seem any different.
♪ Do you ever wanna catch me? ♪
“Jinx!”
This time, Silco’s voice resonated loud enough for the teenager to hear him as he slammed his fist against the gramophone, stopping the music at once, and finally, Jinx spun on her stool to face him.
“That’s me!”
Vi, Mylo, Claggor, Vander and Ekko all cringed at the exclamation. Once, Powder would have sulked in a corner being called a jinx. Now, she was happily responding to the name.
“Half a dozen enforcers, dead,” chided Silco. “Enforcers, dead!”
He was furious. There was none of the softness he displayed earlier in his tone, yet Jinx didn’t shy away from him. Instead, she removed her goggles to look at him, her smile widening as she shamelessly nodded at the accusation.
“Yeah…” she dismissed casually.
“A building blown to pieces!”
“Oh!” She chuckled. “Yeah…”
“What the fuck…”
If there was one thing the kids hadn’t expected, it was for their sister to so blatantly mock a reprimand.
Powder, of all people, would’ve never ignored berating. She was so sensitive about comments she would have turned the words a thousand times over in her head, brooding in a corner until someone took notice of it and comforted her, soothing whatever insecurity she was brewing. Yet, this older version of her was laughing while Silco confronted her about her mess.
For Janna’s sake, why was Silco the reasonable one here?
The rat bastard had destroyed their family, plotted to murder and discredit Vander, stolen his position and his bar, and actively tried to start a war against Piltover.
Why was he the one making sense here?!
Benzo too had to do a double take at what he was seeing. He’d fully expected Silco to be the one pushing for the extreme here (the old fucker was the reason why the bridge riot escalated after all). He’d assumed he was the reason why little Powder became so… impulsive as she grew. Seeing him show some common sense and actually trying to discipline the girl was jarring, he was starting to reconsider everything he thought he knew about the man.
… and about the girl too.
“She’s actually proud about her stunt,” Jayce thought out loud, voicing the grim realization everyone came to.
Jinx showed no signs of regret concerning her little operation topside. Worse, she showed absolutely no regard towards the lives she took.
‘She’s completely desensitized to death…’
It was one thing to kill because you had to, it was another thing to enjoy it.
“He’s lecturing her about the lives she’s taken and she’s laughing in his face,” Cassandra noted distastefully as she realized had her daughter been among those lives lost that night, her death would have been mocked.
This girl was completely unhinged. Why it was even up for debate whether she needed treatment or not was beyond her.
“Since when does he care about a few lost lives, anyway?” Vi loudly wondered, suddenly uncomfortable by the focus on her sister.
Silco was the problem here—he had to be.
“He doesn’t, Vander admitted, “it’s about the control he lost.”
Silco had no more love for enforcers than any of them. If it was only up to him, their entire forces would have long been wiped out. But as resentful as he was, Silco was also a man of patience. He knew how to stay in the shadows and wait for the perfect opportunity to act. The fact that it took so many years for him to enact his vengeance was the very proof of that. He was waiting, carefully considering his options before the perfect opportunity to strike presented itself.
Silco didn’t just want to hurt Topside. He wanted to wound it enough that it would retreat permanently and never come back. And Powder’s stunt? It was jeopardizing his precious plans, giving the Council a reason to bite back before they really had the chance to fight. It was easy to read him.
Regardless of his reasons, the man was at least trying to discipline the girl, Mel noted, though she doubted it was a common occurrence, considering how dismissive he was of the earlier incident on the airship and how the girl was reacting to his lecture.
She was casually sprawled out across her desk as she played with the pen in her hand, and the moment Silco tore it from her, his frustration palpable, a light bulb went on in her head.
‘Ah, I see.’ Confiscating her pen like an angry parent would confiscate a misbehaving child’s toy.
She was starting to understand the dynamic between the two, and indeed, the girl had much more power in this relationship than most of them thought she did.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” demanded Silco as he forced the young girl’s attention back on him.
“Actually, I do.”
The sudden change in her tone made him pause. Jinx raised from the desk to meet his eyes, reaching for the pouch at her waist, and when she revealed the blue marble inside, Silco’s glare softened, marvel washing away all traces of anger.
“Not so furious anymore, eh?” huffed Benzo.
He could see the very moment when all those deaths suddenly became worth it in Silco’s eyes; he wasn’t even pretending to stay angry, if only for discipline’s sake. Jinx was offering him the very power he chased after his entire life to beat Topside with, and she could have blown half the Undercity to do so, it was all that mattered to him. That was the bastard Benzo remembered.
As Silco took the gemstone, rolling it between his fingers with silent wonder, Jinx hopped off her seat. With giddy excitement, she walked to a nearby post.
“Happy Progress Day!” she gleefully announced as she activated the lever on it.
Explosions triggered all around her as she raised her arm in a theatrical gesture. Missiles launched in the air and soon, the dark void of the crevasse was colored with vibrant fireworks.
“She installed explosions in her own hideout?” worried Heimerdinger.
What a reckless thing to do when it was barely hanging in the air! Any blast could threaten to make it crash.
“Well, she has to keep it safe from intruders somehow!” justified Ekko, though he knew it wasn’t the real reason.
Who in their right mind would venture in the deep fissures? There was nothing of value to loot there, only an early death to meet, not to mention those fireworks clearly had no defensive purpose. Powder just… always liked to put on a good show and clearly, the fact that it could jeopardize her safety was not good enough of a reason not to riddle her place with explosions.
Powder…
What had happened in these past seven years that she was so uncaring for her own life? And if he indeed was who he thought he was, why hadn’t he tried to save her?
As colorful sparks rained down all around them, Jinx sashayed her way toward Silco, her smirk never subsiding though it now had a more childish quality to it. He didn’t stop her when she threw her arms around him.
While biting the inside of her cheek was efficient enough to force herself to keep it together, it did nothing to prevent Vi’s heart from breaking.
Powder liked him. No matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise, this was as clear as day. However he managed to get into her head, her sister actually liked this guy. She trusted him enough to be vulnerable around him, sought his comfort and his touch, endeavored to please him, make herself useful… just like she once did with her.
She wasn’t being forced to work for him. Powder loved him, just like she once loved her or Vander. He was her sister’s family now, and it was a hard pill to swallow when he was the one to have destroyed it in the first place. Silco had her sister’s heart in the palm of his hands, but the worst part of it all? Vi could swear she saw his face softening as Powder hugged him.
Vander was much more composed about it all. Powder being Powder, it was no surprising she had latched onto the first person offering her a semblance of comfort after the tragedy that befell their family, even if that person was the very man that had orchestrated it. It was Silco’s apparent affection for his daughter that was much more bittersweet to accept. It would be much easier for him to hate the man if he was sure he was merely using her but clearly, it went beyond that.
A control freak like Silco would never tolerate Powder’s mishaps if he didn’t care for her at all, and the fact that he let her get away with those with nothing more than a slap on the wrist was quite telling coming from him.
He didn’t want to chastise her, only kept her in line when she went too far, but otherwise, he only encouraged her, being as supportive as any parent could be.
Because this is what he was, wasn’t he? Vander knew Silco, and this was no act from him. He cared about Powder.
For his kids though, it was still too early to acknowledge this truth.
“He’s using her and she has no idea,” shuddered Mylo.
“Would she even care?” fretted Claggor. “Powder thrives to be useful.”
It was something their merciless environment had ingrained deeply into her and, quite honestly—though he kept that thought to himself—Mylo didn’t help in undoing.
The adults however, just like Vander, were starting to doubt this version of the facts.
“We might have underestimated how much of a wild card Jinx actually is,” Mel noted calmly. “She might be more dangerous than we thought.”
Cassandra huffed. “She launched an attack against our city, killed our enforcers. Of course she’s dangerous.”
Caitlyn frowned, thinking back to the incident. She hadn’t taken it personally when she was targeted in the attack. She was mature enough to understand that the two of them were standing at opposite sides of an unseen war and by wearing the uniform, she was essentially an enemy to Jinx. Seeing her laugh at the deaths she caused, however, had stifled some of the compassion she felt for her.
Her mother was right: she did need help.
“And are we not going to mention the song?” Cassandra went on.
The kids jumped on the occasion to change the subject.
“Right, the song,” remembered Mylo. “What the fuck was that song?”
“Well, it was clearly her song,” Claggor said with a shrug.
“Ok, but why in the world does she even have a song?”
What kind of whim was that to record your own song? Disks were so expensive to come buy; the Last Drop only had a few, and Vander hadn’t updated his library in years. There was no way Powder just happened to find a blank one and the correct equipment to record herself.
“I mean, Silco took over the Lanes,” Ekko grunted as he scrunched up his nose, following his train of thoughts. “He probably had all the resources needed to record a song.”
Bastard.
Mylo blinked at him.
“You’re telling me,” he began, “that that guy used his position as the new leader of the Lanes to let Powder have her own song…?”
The three kids exchanged dubious glances, as ridiculous as it was, it sounded even more absurd said out loud.
Cassandra cleared her voice.
“I meant the lyrics,” she clarified, tempted to let an exasperated sigh out. “She was singing about shooting people and spreading panic with explosions.”
Well, that sounded like Powder alright (though maybe a bit extreme).
“Are we still going to pretend that girl isn’t unhinged?”
The accusation brought the kids’ guard back up as they all scowled at the councilwoman.
“Councilor Kiramman,” warned Mel. With nothing more than a simple raise of the brow, she reminded her coworker of their earlier agreement.
This time, Cassandra didn’t contain her frustration and huffed. What else did they need? For the girl to turn their city into ashes? They already knew for a fact that she would start a war, and after everything she’d seen, Cassandra wasn’t taking any chances. She was bringing that girl to their best doctors as soon as this was over and deal with her accordingly to what they thought was best for her.
“Are we going to be alright?” Jayce quietly muttered to no one in particular.
Viktor, who had heard him, had no words of reassurance to offer him. He knew—they knew—they wouldn’t be. There was a reason this recording had reached them after all. The most he could be was offer him a comforting hand.
Silco had the gemstone now, and he was not looking forward to whatever he was planning to do with it. He had worked with the doctor in the past, and now, Viktor dreaded Heimerdinger’s worst fears would come true.
Away from the political discord she was sure her mother was dealing with at the moment, and in the quiet of her room, only disturbed by the soft music playing in the background, Caitlyn was squatting down on the floor, keeping her focus on the case before her.
A relieved sigh escaped Jayce’s chest as the young girl appeared on the screen, and for the first time since she saw her daughter almost die, Cassandra allowed her nerves to relax. If they had both guessed she would make it out, it was incredibly soothing to see she seemingly had no major injuries.
Caitlyn didn’t hear the knock on her door as she kept twirling her gun around her finger mechanically.
Cassandra sighed. This was a bad habit she’d tried to break out of her daughter for a while now and apparently, it was in vain.
“Hey,” greeted Jayce as he entered, “how are you feeling?”
The modest bouquet in his hands paled in comparison to the many gorgeous exotic flowers crowding the room, but it was only a formality. He knew Caitlyn well enough to know she wouldn’t care about a Get-well-soon bouquet.
“I’ve had a break in the case,” the young woman announced, temporarily abandoning her makeshift evidence board on the bare floor as she rose to meet her friend.
“Shouldn’t you be resting?”
“Indeed, why aren’t you, Caitlyn?” sighed Cassandra. Her daughter chuckled nervously. Decidedly, Caitlyn would not become more reasonable as she grew, but it was with a fond smile she watched her stubborn daughter work on the screen.
“While the trail is hot?” She hooked her arm with his to prompt him forward while, as Jayce had expected, she tore the bouquet from his hands to toss it carelessly with the others.
Cassandra sighed once more—a contrast to the amused snorts erupting in the Undercity gang. She hoped her daughter had better manners than this in public…
“Listen. You know how I’ve suspected there is a single mind behind the Undercity’s violence?” Caitlyn started as she guided Jayce to her board.
“The great conspiracy,” he japed.
“I think whoever attacked the square is our suspect,” confided the young woman, crouching back down above her evidence. Several incidents had been marked on the map. “The same symbols showed up at the botched smuggling operation at the Hexgates.”
“The Hexgates?” Jayce repeated, now suddenly much more interested.
“Keep up! All this time, they’ve kept their dealings localized to the Undercity,” continued Caitlyn. “Low priority. The attack on the square changes things.”
She threw the picture of the monkey symbol she’d taken in the airship incident next to the drawing illustrating the bombing after the speech.
“They’ve overstepped. If I can figure out who made this, it could lead me directly to whoever’s behind it all,” she concluded as she rose to her feet, before she walked backward until she stepped onto the ottoman behind her to take a better look of her board. “The answer is here, starring me in the face. I can feel it.”
‘Oh, wow. Cupcake is smart -smart.’
Vi was genuinely impressed by her deducting skills. She had already proven herself to be good on the airship, but this? Enforcer or not, she would cheer for anyone looking to stop Silco, and Cupcake was on the right track.
Grayson smiled. The girl really was a good detective, and although she didn’t reiterate her earlier compliment, Caitlyn felt her approving glance all the same.
Maybe the future wouldn’t be so dire for her enforcers after all?
“I guess I’m not the only one good at my job,” Jayce quipped.
Both he and Caitlyn were surprised to hear Cassandra chime in before the young girl had a chance to retort anything.
“Caitlyn can be good at anything if she puts her mind to it.”
The boast was said as neutrally possible given its nature, but Caitlyn knew how to recognize a compliment, especially one coming from her mother. It was the most endorsement she’d ever hear from her regarding her career choice, but it was already more than she’d ever hoped for.
A proud smile formed on her face before she even realized it.
“How do you intend to prove any of this?” Jayce a sked.
“If I can just work this out, Marcus will have to listen.”
‘Ah, fuck.’
Vi groaned loudly as the tiny hope she’d been nurturing died as soon as the fucker’s name was pronounced, and she wasn’t the only one whose expression collapsed right then.
“You couldn’t have known,” Jayce immediately tried to cheer his friend up as a frown settled on her face.
“Still…”
Perhaps Marcus wasn’t as bad as they thought? He’d made a mistake in the past, but as the sheriff said, if he’d managed to learn from it, perhaps he would listen to her. He’d dismissed her earlier when she had no evidence to present him, but if she had, surely he would, right? He had every reason to want Silco gone.
Vander and Benzo weren’t nearly as optimistic. Marcus had none of Grayson’s qualities, and considering the man was not only still in function but now Sheriff of Piltover, and Silco’s obsession with control, they could both already guess that he was still his pawn.
Vander sighed.
It was always like this, wasn’t it? One step forward, two backwards. Why did it matter if there were a few good natured people among the enforcers if they couldn’t go past the corruption?
While imperfect, his deal with Grayson had allowed the two cities to reach some kind of understanding, but now, both of them were gone and the new Sheriff was dancing right into Silco’s palm.
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned about the Council,” said Jayce, “they need more than just theories.”
Caitlyn scoffed.
“Since when did you concern yourself with the Council’s opinion?” she asked as she recalled how he was almost banished from Piltover exactly because he overlooked their ethos.
The smirk on Jayce’s face would have been quite telling had she not been so focused on her map.
“Since I… became a Councilor.”
Jayce gasped.
They had really voted him in.
“See? I told you so!” beamed Caitlyn.
Him, at the Council table, among the leaders of Piltover. He was as apprehensive as he was excited.
“Congratulations, Jayce,” sincerely offered Cassandra as the old yordle chuckled a little further.
“I’m sure it’ll be a delight to work with you, my boy!”
“Thank you,” he breathed. “I— I’ll do my best.”
The kids weren’t nearly as enthusiastic about this change, however.
“Ugh!”
“You owe me five bucks,” Ekko huffed as he elbowed Claggor, but the boy refused to look at him.
“I didn’t agree on any bet,” he said.
Caitlyn chuckled at what she assumed to be a joke, but she soon noticed Jayce’s smirk wasn’t subsiding.
“You’re serious,” she realized. “When? Why? Have they discovered how to govern with grease and a spanner?”
Jayce fondly rolled his eyes.
“Ha ha,” his other self deadpanned. “I was actually hoping you might consider joining my staff.
The amusement on Caitlyn’s face disappeared as she took the pneumatube he was offering her, the suspicion clear in her gaze. Jayce anxiously let her open it, and it didn’t take long for her to discover the real reason for his venue.
“House Talis Security,” read the young woman as a scowl appeared on her face. She turned to face her friend. “That’s a ceremonial position. I’d live behind a desk.”
“You almost died, Cait,” reasoned Jayce. “I just… I just want you to be safe.”
“Thanks,” she said curtly, shoving the pneumatube back into his hands as she stepped down from the ottoman and crouched back down to take another look at her map, “but I already have a job.”
Jayce sighed, “No, you don’t.”
What?
“After the attack, your parents spoke to the Sheriff.”
The young girl immediately swirled around to meet her mother’s eyes, the betrayal clear in her face.
“How could you?” she accused.
“It is for your own safety, Caitlyn” Cassandra easily guessed.
“I can take care of myself.”
But the mother remained impassible.
“I am not going to apologize for keeping yourself safe,” she said. Someone had to, considering how reckless she could be. That recent incident only proved her point.
“It is my life, my job!”
“Caitlyn,” Cassandra warned. Though her voice was calm, her tone was firm. “Behave yourself.”
The young girl huffed as she snapped her gaze away from her. Though she did shut her mouth, it was clear in the clench of her jaw and in the scowl on her face that she was not over the matter.
The pride she felt hearing her mother compliment her just a moment ago was now long forgotten, and all that was left on her tongue was the bitter aftertaste of betrayal as, once again, her mother took control of her life.
Jayce glanced at her worryingly, uncertain of the comfort his friend needed.
“This is the best I could do,” his future self said, and the next word spat by Caitlyn made his reaching hand retreat back onto his laps.
“I don’t need your charity, Councilor. Yours or my parents’.”
“Cait…”
“Get out.”
As his other self complied and quietly exited the room, Jayce sighed. He could see the outrage brewing, and he hoped both Caitlyns would soon enough realize this really was for their own interest. While Jayce didn’t agree with the way Cassandra forced her hand, he could absolutely understand the mother’s concern regarding her daughter's safety.
Caitlyn was never one to just give up though, so when determination shone in the on-screen Caitlyn’s eyes, both he and Cassandra immediately guessed she was planning something. And it soon became clear what when her gaze stopped on Stillwater hold on the map.
‘Oh no.’
As expected, the next shot of the recording was of the infamous prison.
Of course.
She made sure Caitlyn would be dismissed from her duties as an enforcer for her own safety and of course, of course, the next thing her daughter did was to go to the worst place of all of Piltover, where the most dangerous criminals were being detained.
And Caitlyn? Her Caitlyn? She had the audacity to smirk, pleased by her older self’s actions.
Cassandra could feel the headache coming.
It was evening by the time Caitlyn reached the other side of the city. The skipper hadn’t asked any question when she asked to be transported to Stillwater hold. True to their name, the waters of the infamous prison were calm, so the crossing was uneventful.
“I thought she got fired,” Mylo muttered to his siblings. He had enough sense to keep his voice low after the little familial drama. “What is she doing still with the uniform?”
Vi shrugged, “Beats me.” Was Cupcake going rogue?
“Why is she going to Stillwater in the first place?” Claggor wondered.
His question didn’t remain without an answer for very long.
“I need to speak with one of the inmates,” Caitlyn addressed the warden when she finally reached the entrance. He was easily thrice her size.
An unsettling feeling lodged into the Trenchers’ chests, as most were discovering Stillwater for the first time.
The hold, only accessible after a long stair climb, was absolutely massive, its plain architecture uninviting but practical. The few windows there were on the top floor, and with its single entrance, there was only one way for anyone to get in or out the building—not that there was anywhere to go for a potential fugitive. The hold was, after all, surrounded by water. In the absence of light, Stillwater appeared as grim as it could be.
The gang gulped. As far as they were aware, their fate was still unsure, the ticket to Stillwater still looming over their head and while the sentence didn’t seem so bad after discovering the grim other reality, it wasn’t any more appealing.
“Oh, folks in here aren’t usually very talkative,” the warden replied.
Mylo snorted. “Who would talk to an enforcer?”
“This one was hit by friendly fire,” insisted Caitlyn. “He’s got reasons to talk. Must have been sent in today?”
‘Ah, Gustove. So this is what Cupcake was doing here.’
“Oh, Inmate 2135,” recognized the warden.
While he didn’t really keep track of all the prisoners he received, this one was memorable. Inmate 2135 barely had the time to settle in his cell, he’d been moved during lunch time to the communal dining room with the other prisoners to get accustomed to the food.
“Ew! The hell is that?!” cringed Ekko as he saw the yellow slop in Gustove’s meal tray.
“That looks disgusting,” rasped Claggor.
Mylo snorted, “Probably is, based on his expression.” The fucker had visibly recoiled when he tasted it.
“Good,” joined Vi. As petty as it was, she would take any small inconveniences to soothe her desire for vengeance. The asshole deserved to have his taste buds permanently destroyed.
“Yeah, I’m, uh, afraid that’s not possible,” said the warden.
“Why not?”
“He’s been dealt with, hasn’t he?” guessed Benzo as Vander nodded in agreement.
‘Dealt with?’
Most Piltovans glanced worriedly at him.
“What do you mean ‘dealt with’?” asked Jayce.
“Uh, well, there’s been… an incident.”
“Exactly just that,” shrugged the shopkeeper, unfazed by the horror settling on the Topsiders’ faces as they grasped the implications of this.
“What kind of incident?” Caitlyn asked as the warden recalled the earlier incident.
Inmate 2135 barely had the time to take another spoon, he noticed his visitor, another prisoner approaching with an empty tray in hand.
“The…”
His eyes widened in recognition before the tray slammed against his head, sending him on the floor. He neither had the time to recover or retaliate. He was finished off as the tray smashed against his face.
“… not so pretty kind.”
“Woohoo!” acclaimed the kids. Whoever had beef with the guy had their full support. “Serves him right!”
Their cheers, however, had drowned the horrified gasps of the Topsiders.
“He was assaulted!” exclaimed Jayce. “Just like that!”
Benzo shrugged, “Eh, it happens.”
“What do you mean it happens?!”
“It’s Stillwater,” Vander said, deadpan. “What did you expect? It’s a jungle out there, worse than any part of the Undercity.”
“This is barbaric,” Heimerdinger shook his head. The poor guy hadn’t even been here for a full day before he was attacked.
The trenchers, on the other hand, thought nothing more of it.
“Seems like Silco has a few enemies,” Benzo commented as he turned to his friend. “Think it was those Firelights again?”
“Could be one of their guys,” considered Vander, “I guess we’ll see.”
“You don’t understand. I have to talk to him,” Caitlyn insisted.
“Oh, you’ll be able to,” assured the warden. “As soon as he can move his jaw again.”
“Damn, he’s still alive? He’s as resilient as a cockroach,” huffed Mylo as the others snickered.
Jayce stared dumbfounded at him. He couldn’t believe he was joking like that.
“Who assaulted him?”
The elevator’s descent into the lower levels of the hold was rapid as Caitlyn waited to meet her new person of interest. She wasn’t about to give up her case yet.
“It’s going down?” frowned Claggor.
How big was Stillwater exactly that it even had underground levels?
“Usually, the lower the floor, the more dangerous the prisoners,” explained Grayson as they all watched the number indicating the floor level rapidly going down above the elevator’s doors on the recording.
-34…
-35…
-36…
-37…
-38…
-39…
“And how bad is minus forty?” Jayce asked as the number stilled on the screen, the elevator finally coming to a stop.
“It’s where solitary confinement cells are.”
The doors opened on a long corridor. In the dim light of Stillwater, it was impossible to tell how far it went, but despite the entire level being apparently occupied by only one person, Caitlyn could hear them from her spot. With a deep breath, she stepped out of the elevator and let her ears guide her as she followed the constant thuds disturbing the silence.
“What is that?” Claggor wondered. It sounded ominous.
Caitlyn ventured carefully, inspecting the cells on her way. They were all empty, devoid of anything; not a semblance of comfort and nothing to occupy oneself. Yet, it didn’t seem to bother her inmate, and it wasn’t until the young woman reached their cell she realized why.
Inmate 516 was smashing her fists against the wall. Her punches weren’t desperate though; they were practiced, powerful. Pieces of render were coming apart under their impact.
Benzo whistled, “Well that’s one angry lady!” and Vander almost chuckled.
Almost.
Because before he could process his words, his eyes caught a glimpse of the inmate’s hair and the unmistakable pink immediately filled his vision.
And he wasn’t the only one to notice it.
Claggor gasped. “Is that—”
“Ain’t no freaking way,” doubted Mylo.
“That’s Vi!” Ekko blurted next.
The sudden agitation among the trenchers hadn’t gone unnoticed and the Piltovans took a better look at the inmate. Fortunately for them, it was at this exact moment that she stopped her furious banging on the screen.
The young woman was muscular—the absence of sleeves on her shirt accentuating her build—and her skin was a canvas. Proud tattoos spread all over her arms, shoulders and neck, and it was easy to imagine them all over her back as well as the ink disappeared underneath her shirt. They seemed to tell a story. Which? The Piltovans couldn’t tell, but if they had to guess, based on the many pieces of gears and the few clouds of smoke, it was probably something to do with the Undercity.
They couldn’t see her face yet, but this had to be Vi. Everything pointed at her. The hair color, the tattoos, the punching, and for Janna’s sake, Gustove.
If there was one person out there who hated Silco enough to attack his men on sight, it would be Vi. Not to mention Gustove had recognized her, hadn’t he? And of course he would. There was no way he would have forgotten the teenager who knocked him out seven years prior on that fateful day.
This had to be Vi.
Inmate 516 was panting as the exertion fatigue caught up to her. The wraps covering her hands, wrists and forearms hadn’t come undone, but her knuckles were now soiled with her own blood. The young woman paid them no attention though. It wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last. Her fists were her only way to vent and she had no intention to stop using them.
Even if it meant retaliation for the wardens.
She’d been expecting them. She was used to the song by now, so when she noticed a presence in front of her cell, she was ready to humor them. But it was no warden she saw as she turned to meet her visitor.
“Who the hell are you?” asked Vi.
Oh.
Oh god.
Caitlyn felt her face flush as she stared, frozen in place.
Janna help her, she is her type.
She’d already felt her heart jump in her chest when she first appeared on the screen, those glorious tattoos traveling down her biceps, but now? If she’d thought Vi was like a puppy before, then her older self was like—
For Janna’s sake, Caitlyn, this is not the time!
Caitlyn blinked, forcing herself to regain her composure as she closed her mouth—when had she even opened it? She sincerely hoped no one noticed. Fortunately for her, everyone was so focused on the girl’s unexpected reappearance, not even her mother paid her attention.
“God, it really is Vi.”
Vander felt the time freeze as he took in his eldest appearance. If Powder was the spitting image of their mother when she was younger, Vi was the perfect mix of both their parents. It was something he’d already noticed before, but it was even more apparent now, now that all the baby fat was gone and her face was leaner.
Dear Janna, his girl was a full grown adult now.
His boys were equally mesmerized.
‘Holy fuck, she’s buffed now!’ Mylo couldn’t help but notice.
How strong were her punches now? The surface of the wall had been crumbling under her fists, how badly would it hurt to receive one of her jabs?
Mylo had been at the receiving ends of her punches a couple of times, so he could only feel for the poor souls that would meet her adult version’s path, because if there was one thing that seemed to remain unchanged in Vi, it was her raging fire.
Claggor, on the other hand, was much more interested in her tattoos. They looked badass, this was without saying, but what was up with them anyway? First Powder and now Vi? He had to admit it though, both sisters wore them well. But noticing the shared cloud design, he couldn’t help but wonder if it had any significance for them, or if it was just a curious coincidence.
Amidst the shared wonder of her reappearance however, only Vi was left unimpressed.
She didn’t care about the tattoos, didn’t care about the muscle mass she’d build over the years, and didn’t even care about that pixie half undercut she was finally pulling off.
No. None of those mattered as only one realization plagued her mind.
“I’ve been in Stillwater for the past seven years...”
She was going to murder Marcus.