Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

– SIDE : BLUE –

When Powder sees the electric blue light racing towards her, she's convinced she's dead. 

When Powder is sent back flying against the illuminated blue scene, she's convinced she's dead.

When Powder hits the concrete ground, she's convinced she's dead. 

But when she finally opens her eyes, she realises. 

“My…— My monkey bomb!” Comes the gasps for air. The girl scrambled to push herself back onto her feet as she watched her masterpiece's work before her eyes. The corner of her lips tugged gently into a small smile, then a massive grin. Her awkwardly lanky frame hopped around in celebration. 

“It worked! I saved everyone! I— I finally got it to work!” She cheered, eyes nearly watering from her relief. Despite how her body ached from the fall, Powder was on an insane high. She had to tell then - they'd be so proud. Mylo wouldn't be able to call her a Jinx anymore ! Vander would teacher her how to fight! And Vi…

Vi wouldn't have to worry about her anymore.

Hastily, she hid the remaining crystals in her hair, just in case they got so jealous they tried to take it, hehe! Then, she set off to search for Vi in the thick smoke.

“Viiiii! Violet, haha! It worked, it worked!’ Powder called out, eyes squinted as she tried to scan the area. 

“Viiiii? Vander? Where are you guuuys! Claggor, Mylor?” Her pace quickened when no response came - had they left already? Should she meet them back at the bar?

Or maybe they went somewhere she couldn't find them… No– No, they wouldn't do that. Violet wouldn't do that.

Between her rapid thoughts and footsteps that were catching up, Powder was all but oblivious to the figure that had been sneaking up behind her.

Her lips parted to scream for Vi once more, but was muffled by a cloth being pressed over it. Powder tried to scream, but it came out as unintelligible murmurs. She tried to kick, but her legs began to feel like steel. Her whole body, in fact. What was happening? Was this a prank? No— No you can't take her, she needs to go back to her family! Let her go

“Don't say a word. You're coming with me.”

And with those words whispered into her ear, Powder's eyes slowly closed and she became weightless, her feet dragged across the rubble as she was thrown into some sort of vehicle.

– SIDE : RED –

“Protect Powder…” 

Those were Vander’s last words, ringing in Vi's ears long after they dissipated into the suffocating air.

How… How the hell did this happen. Was it Silco? Damnit, damnit, DAMNIT!

Throwing her head up, a bellowing scream from the depths of her chest released from her lips. 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH! WHYWHYWHY!”

Her eyes blurred from her own churning tears and ears blocked from her own deafening screams, Violet hadn't taken heed to the tall man who had creeped around the corner. Silco watched the broken girl shriek until she began doubling over in a coughing fit, laying on the gravel and ashes.

“Oh dear. Poor Violet. How truly alone you are..” Silco made himself known, kneeling but still glaring down at her. His voice felt like snakes, slithering up Vi's neck and tightening. From behind his back, Vi's eye's landed on the glimmer of a dull, jagged knife. 

'Protect Powder…'

No matter how much she wanted to die, right there and then. Powder needed her. She couldn't.. She couldn't… Resonating with the last of her strength, Violet pounded on Silco, pinning him to the ground. Her eyes looked around wildly and she was damn near foaming at the mouth from pure vitriol.

“YOU! YOU killed them all. I'LL KILL YOU!” Violet snarled, lifting her trembling, balled fist over Silco.

Silco's goons were prepared to jump into action, but, for some reason, Silco waved them off. The man wasn't afraid of Violet at all. In fact, he was smiling. A thin line between sinister and pitiful.

“Oh, Violet. Do you even know who you're fighting for? They're all dead.” Silco poked in a hushed voice. 

“Shut up. P-Powder is alive. I need to—” Vi squeezed her eyes shut, her voice jagged with rapid breaths. 

“Is she?” 

Before Vi could even comprehend his words, she felt Silco press something wooden into her hands. 

Nononononononono it can't be. It can't be .

It was bloody. No, not just bloody. Damn near bloodbathed. All the signature scribbles of Powder's monkey bombs had faded behind the sheer amount of blood painted on the toy.

“She thought she was ready to help you. But an enforcer caught her before she could ever make it here. Quite a few times.” With Vi now stunned by the item in her palm, Silco managed to slip himself out from under her hold. 

“H— How do I know it wasn't you, you bastards.” Despite her words, her voice no longer held the bite it once could've. Her heart was sinking.

“Believe it or not, but I don't kill for no reason. Honestly, I'm enraged. Everything I've done, it has always been for the undercity. Even when it comes to the hard calls.” Silco's eyes briefly flicked towards Vander’s body before back to Vi.

“You want to kill them, do you not? You want to overthrow the boot on your neck. You never saw eye to eye with Vander. Now, you can seek the path of revenge you've always craved.” 

She couldn't respond. All that could be derived from her was the heaving of her back. She felt herself sink into the gravel once more, cradling the broken toy close to her chest, maternally. Powder couldn't be gone... No, it wasn't possible. Powder...

'Pow-Pow'

Vi's heart soon swelled with a new feeling, neither grief or hopelessness. Her heart thumped with it, it pumped in the blood through her veins. It was suffocating, yet addicting. Like a feral animal biting at her flesh, one she had the contradictory urge to feed. It was pure anger.

"I want to kill them. All."

– SIDE : BLUE –

Frayed rope burnt into the indents of Powder's wrists. Her eyes stubbornly refused to unblur in the pitch dark. Where was she? Where was Vi? Eventually, the door swung open and a blinding light, entirely unfamiliar to the child. Blinking slowly, Powder's vision soon revealed to her the figure of a masked enforcer.

“Get up.” They spat, yanking her onto her feet before she could even comprehend the circumstances. Was she going to be executed? She didn't want to die. Powder's heart began to thump for its life as she heaved and gasped for air. The cruel enforcer paid her no mind as twisted her arm and pushed her to walk forward, sandwiching the tiny girl. 

...

“We got the trencher responsible for the attack on the Talis workspace.” Powder heard one snarl as she was taken to a desk. Behind it stood a towering monster of some sorts. Without warning, her body was thrown towards him, causing her to slam her head and kneel over in pain. More conversation passed between the two, nothing that Powder could bear to pick up… Except for one thing.

“She's a bit small for a 15 year old, ain't she?” The receptionist inquired.

“She's small, but she's damn reckless. A little Jinx, even. Huh, shall we call yer that, ya damn Jinx?” Sneered the enforcer.

Powder cowered by the wall of the reception desk, whimpering as she tried to pull away from the taunting glares above her. 

A Jinx. Just a Jinx. Mylo was right— She's a Jinx. She got herself captured.

“Well well well, then. Welcome, Jinx. You're gonna be here for a long, long while.”

Chapter Text

SIDE : BLUE

"Day one thousand...eight hundred.. and eighty two."

The sound of chalk scraping against a stone wall echoed in the dimmest way possible. You'd have thought, by the thousandth day at least, the brisk air wouldn't nip at her fingertips in the manner it insisted on. Yet, to no avail, these brittle fingers remained frozen to the touch. Once the final curve on the two had been etched, the chalk fell to the ground.

"So cold... I never got my blanket back." Came a small sigh.

Footsteps that had been echoing from the further part of the hallway, beyond the bars, grew strikingly closer, and closer, until they stopped suddenly. 

THWACK

A stick banged against the metal bars before a gruelling man's voice chuckled. "This is our little shitstarter. Or our Jinx, as we like to call her." 

Shitstarter, huh? How cruel. She was never the one who started fights. Just the one who ended them.

“Huh. She looks a bit.. Young, no?” A woman’s voice? A particularly soft sounding one, at that. Must be a visitor, or someone. Not that it changes anything. 

“She's an adult, trust me. Don't let that small body fool you, she's a real psychopath.” Really, do they think anyone will believe that? No matter, the rest of their conversation was lost to sound as they travelled further down the hallway, past her cell.

Powder's cell. 

Or maybe she was Jinx. No one had called her by that name for a long while. Still, the girl refused to tether her last attachment to her family. To Vi. She'd return to them one day ; they'd embrace her, call her Powder once again. But, in order for that to happen…

She needed to break out. 

SIDE : INDIGO

Caitlyn Kirraman found life as an enforcer was… boring. Patrolling the perimeter of her parents tent was unbelievably underwhelming, as one could expect. That's why she couldn't resist the call to action when an airship invasion fell upon her doorstep. Or, rather, on the outskirts of her jurisdiction..

“What on earth happened here…” Muttered Caitlyn, tactfully stepping over the debris of the crashed air vehicle. A violet liquid seemed to cling to the floor and walls, sparkling from the thin light shooting past the nooks and crannies. Briefly, she considered tasting the substance to verify it.

… Just briefly, don't judge her.

As her eyes continued to scan, she approached a wall with a myriad of what looked to be, at first glance, mindless scratches. That was, of course, until she got a closer look. 

“Vee.. I? Latin for number six? Or..Vi?” Pondered the enforcer, cocking her head as if to grasp a different angle. Countless scratches of the symbol “VI” , everywhere…

Knee deep into her thought process, Cait had remained completely unaware to the footsteps behind her.

“Kirraman.” Called out a familiar voice. Marcus. With a sigh, she reluctantly turned around, folding her arms. Here came the lecture. This wasn't her job, blah blah blah, she wasn't authorised to be here, blah blah blah. All the usual. Even if she wasn't meant to be here, she was almost 99% sure the strictness when it came to her specifically was plotted by her parents. They never wanted her to see anything.

“When are you gonna learn to stay in your lane, kid?” Caitlyn's mind had decided to spontaneously start paying attention at the moment of that rhetorical question. Stay in her lane? Who did he think he was? Caitlyn was assured she could be twice the enforcer he was at half his age if given the chance! He was jealous, most definitely. That's it, he was jealous that, someday, Caitlyn would make a massive splash someday. For the better. So much ran through her head at that moment.

And, yet, she said nothing. She simply stared back at Marcus with a blank look on her face, the only sign of anger in her was the slight bobbing of her heel off the ground. After a bit more of lecturing, Marcus ordered her off. And Caitlyn could do nothing but sulk and walk off.

Just you wait and see, Marcus.

SIDE : RED

“V-VI— Commander VI–!” A shaky voice chased after a rather bulky figure who stormed down the hallway. 

Goddamnit. If there was anything VI didn't want to do right now, it was speak with people. Especially some fucking dweeb. No matter, none of them were bold enough to actually try and force her to hold a conversation with them. If she just kept walking—

“Violet.” 

Great. Sevika.

VI felt herself being swung around by her shoulder, craning her neck to look up at the only woman stronger than her. And the only person she… somewhat respected.

“What. And don't call me that. It's just VI.” The red head huffed in response, rolling her eyes. 

“Hey, watch the attitude, brat. You know damn well what happened out there.” Sevika whisper-yelled, narrowing her eyes at the smaller. Oh yeah, that.

“It's not even a big deal! So what if I destroyed some stupid ass cargo? It was the fuckin’ firefucks fault anyways. If they hadn't —” VI had began on her short fused rant before Sevika briefly cut her off.

“I don't care about what excuses you had. Neither does Silco, you know that. You had one job, and that's all he cares about.” She continued in a stern voice. Oh great, who cares! Silco was a whimpy bitch who made everyone else do his dirty work. It was just a matter of time until VI got rid of him and then… Well, she didn't have a plan for after, but so what? She'd just become a pit fighter or something. Yeah, she liked beating weaklings up. 

“Just— fix yourself up, okay? And don't throw a damn hissy fit when he calls you up.” 

Huh, could've sworn her voice had gotten ever so slightly softer. Maybe it was fading from all the fucking yelling she did. All. The. Time. If she wasn't a pile of walking muscles, VI would've totally punched her in the face.

“You done?” Was VI’s curt response. Sevika simply shook her head and released VI from her grasp. 

SIDE : BLUE

“Alright Mr. Snuggles, you stay here and pretend to be me, okie dokie?” 

Powder was working on making a fake self for the millionth time. Mr. Snuggles, her pillow, made a fairly decent version of a small girl who had folded in on herself. If you squint. And if she put her newly found stolen blanket over it. And faced it away from the outside.

Okay, she took a lot of liabilities. But, if was worth it. Because under her bed was a world of wonders that required her entire focus and concentration. 

“Perfect! Hey— What do you mean no one will believe it? It's the 15 millionth time I've done this, trust me. These enforcers are too thick skulled to realise.” In her long years of being here, it seems Powder's conversational skills had remained intact.

Well, minus the fact she was speaking to… thin air. It wasn't like she had gone mad. You just simply can't blame the girl for making her own entertainment in a place like this. That's all. Yeah, that's all. Once the makeshift her was done, she rolled under the bed, laying flat on her back. Blindly, her hands brushed against the boards of the frame, in search of something. Where was it? 

See, with her impeccable wit and quick thinking, Powder had stuffed the final blue bomb gemstone under her tongue and managed to keep it discreet past security checks. Once she realised no one was coming to save her, Powder figured she'd have to save herself. From there, she began working on a way to create multiple bombs from one gemstone. 

And she had done it!

Granted, their form was…rather crude. But it's not as if she had an abundance of metal around. Empty bean cans would have to do.

The gemstone had cracked into 8 different stones. Of course, with it being such a volatile creation, she made sure she was very careful when slamming it against the wall to break into smaller parts. Against all odds, they didn't blow her face up. Perhaps, she was the chosen one!

Anyhow, she figured she had enough to at least make it to the damn elevator. Plus, with a visitor around, the receptionist would be busy. Everything was falling into place perfectly. Now, all she had to worry about was accruing a weapon. A gun would be preferable, but she's not nearly as lucky. She'd have to make do with one of the legs of her bed. Good enough that it was already falling apart, then!

Grabbing by the base so as to not make too much noise, the blueberry head swivelled the leg off and forced some loose nails into it's length. Perfect! She was ready to send some heads flying out the ballpark!

Discreetly, Powder peeked out of the gap from the floor to check if anyone was passing by. Looked relatively empty. And, no time like the present! Swinging the blanket off her pillow, she wrapped up the various explosive-containing cans and tied them snugly around her hip, leaving one for her to blast the cell bars open with.

Speaking of. She might as well kill two birds with one stone.

“Ohhhh, Waaarden!”

SIDE : RED

“Take a seat, Violet.” 

She really didn't want to do this. In fact, she wouldn't be doing it all if it weren't for the promise of another shimmer shot.

“What do you want?” Came the supposed question from VI, despite sounding much more like a dismissal. Silco finally turned to face the girl in his makeshift throne that was so self egregious it made VI want to puke. 

“Mind your tone. I have half a mind to send you out to the pound right now.” Silco taunted VI by flashing a glimpse of a vial with shimmer for just a second before sliding it back into the drawer on his side. Ugh, fuck.

“I'm sure you already know what went wrong. How many times am I to remind you that you cannot treat our own men as punching bags. Especially when our shimmer is involved.” Silco continued. The man just kept drawling on and on and on. VI did her absolute best to at least look somewhat interested. Though, her dilating pupils were more than enough to signal that her mind had long slipped away and Silco’s reprimand was for nought.

“Hm. It seems you're in no manner to listen today. I'm afraid I'll have to revoke… certain privileges. If that is all, you're dismissed until you place that head of yours on correctly.” Oh, Silco, the evil being you were. VI shot up at his words, eyes suddenly full of a brimming mix of anger and desperation.

“You can't — not for something as stupid as this! I need it, bastard!” VI leaned over the table, her eyes shaking as she weakly fumbled for the key to the drawer. All the while, Silco simply gazed back with an unimpressed look. 

“You really are worthless without it, aren't you?” The man continued to hiss, pushing his chair away from VI. “Well, if you can admit your wrongdoing, I suppose we can relinquish any punishment.” He continued.

With a reluctant sigh, VI slumped back into her chair, shaking and defeated. Parting her lips, she spoke in a soft voice, “I'm sorry. I fuc— messed up.” Each of her words were punctured by a sense of humiliation. But her desperation was stronger.

“Hm. And why did you ‘mess up’?” Silco prodded.

Oh, he was such a bastard. Vi looked up at him through strands of matted red hair. He was serious about this, huh?

“Because I'm a fuckin’ screw up. Okay? I lost myself in the fight and I…,” her breath hitched, “Failed. I won't do it again.” 

She failed. 

She failed again. 

Like how she had failed to protect Powder. 

“Protect Powder.”

VI’s hands bunched themselves in her hair, her thigh bouncing as she agitatedly shook her head. Instinctively, she felt for the broken monkey bomb on her hip. Powder. Powder, I'm so sorry. Powder…My Pow pow. 

The sound of glass rolling caused her eyes to wander up. 

“I'm nothing if not a man of my word. And I hope you're a girl of yours.” VI couldn't care less of what he had to say. She snatched the vial and practically sprinted out the room. Before that psychotic, mind game playing shithead could change his mind.

And before anyone could see VI crying.

SIDE : INDIGO

Stillwater Hold. 

Marcus didn't have to like her. All the other enforcers could try their best to get in her way, but Caitlyn was determined to see the real world. To make real change. 

Change to what? Well, she didn't exactly know. Things were actually pretty perfect in her world. But her world was also…very small. But, that was going to change! But, visiting a prison… Everything was so grim. It made sense, but it was unsettling irregardless. Especially that… Jinx. She looked tiny! Surely she couldn't have done that much harm. But, you could never know.

The tour did have her mind wondering. What on earth were these people doing to wind up in such a place? Once you enter stillwater, you don't really leave. And yet, so many people. Caitlyn wondered if they were all truly dangerous or… No, no. This is the way it's to be. It’s for people like her’s safety. Even though, if — no when — she changed the world, she'd definitely spruce up the system a bit. 

Nevermind all these thoughts. She should pay attention— 

KABOOM

Without so much as a warning, the corridor shook violently. Caitlyn latched onto the wall, head swivelling over her shoulder to see what the hell happened. All she was met with, however, was a cloud of pink smoke shrouding her face. Instinctively, she inhaled and held her breath. 

Caitlyn turned back around to check on the warden but he had long toppled over from whatever monstrous gas was leaking.

Who would do this?! No, that's nonsense. It's obviously a prisoner. Down the hallway, from where she just came. Down the hallway…down the…

The Jinx!

Chapter Text

—SIDE : BLUE–

Feet pattering through the cobblestone halls, Powder's legs carried her with a buzzing that rang throughout her body. Decrepit bed leg in hand, she swung at any sign of a blue uniform in her path - leaving a trail of unconscious enforcers in her wake. 

“You! You— Stop right there!” 

An unfamiliar voice rang from behind the young convict. Without thinking, she slid into a dark side hall, disguised by the colourful smoke from her bombs. With a steady eye, Powder peered round the corner to find the source of the voice.

It was… A young woman, in an enforcer uniform. Definitely not someone she had seen before. Although, that wasn't in Jinx’s mind as much as the opportunity to steal and disguise herself in a uniform that would actually fit her. Pressing her back firmly against the wall once more, Powder waited for the woman's footsteps to get louder…and louder…and louder, until—

THWACK!

The chaser was thrown backwards, collapsing onto the floor with a slump. The blue-haired girl poked at her gently with her foot, to ensure she was properly knocked out, before dragging her into the alley.

— SIDE : INDIGO—

What on earth…

What happened?

Caitlyn had been running until she wasn't. Quite a few gaps in her memory that she quickly tried to fill whilst slowly blinking her eyes awake. Only to be confronted with an… uncomfortable sight before her eyes.

A young girl, with teal hair tied into one messy braid, sitting with her knees up and biting into… a tangerine? But what was even more disconcerting was to realise she was in HER uniform blazer and hat. What on earth…?

Is that… the Jinx?

Instantaneously, Kirraman attempted to make a lunge for the escapee but came to realise she had been tied to some sort of pillar. 

“Ooo, the blue belly’s finally awake!” squeaked the girl's voice. She sounded so young. Was it to get Caitlyn to let her guard down? Fat chance. 

“What do you think you're doing? I am an officer of the law, let me go!” Caitlyn demanded though it seemed any authority she held melted away at the sight of her struggling against her restraints. The Jinx giggled a bit, shaking her head. 

“Well, if I let you go right away, you'll put me right back in Stillwater. And I am noooot going back, I'll tell ya that much.” The Zaunite leaned forward, resting her head in her palms. “So, why don't we make a deal?” She added. 

“As if I'd make a deal with a criminal.” Cait snarled in response, gritting her teeth as she wiggled against the ropes more. The Jinx rolled her eyes, followed by a half-hearted shrug. 

"Fine! You can stay here then. Either way, I'm going back to Zaun.” The younger girl swung herself up in a dramatic manner, walking past Caitlyn with intentionally slow steps before turning her head back to call out, “And I'm keeping the hat!” 

Oh God. I really will be stuck here until someone hears me, won't I? That escapee could be well and out of our grasp if I don't follow her. Damnit— damnit! She's going to Zaun, huh? The investigation too…

“WAIT! I won't turn you in! I'll let you go free on two conditions: 1, give me my uniform back and 2, you have to take me with you to Zaun.” Caitlyn hoped the girl hadn't left during her little internal monologue. That worry turned to slight annoyance yet relief as her face popped back into her line of vision, the girl standing over her. 

“Feisty, to say you're my prisoner right now! Buuut I like a little moxie, ya got a deal! What's ya name?” The escapee knelt down to untie Caitlyn, humming quietly as she did.

“... Caitlyn. Caitlyn Kirraman.” Came a curt reply.

“Oooo, she has a last name too? Fancy!” Giggled the Jinx. “Now, c’mon!” She cheered as she wandered off to grab a suspiciously rifle-shaped bag sitting on the floor. Guess she's got her weapon confiscated, too.

“Wait, what about your name? Or do I just call you ‘criminal’?” Kirraman scoffed. The girl chuckled at the idea whilst seemingly thinking for a while. 

“Dontcha’ already know? 

My name’s Jinx .” 

—SIDE : RED—

God, this fucking arcade smells like shit.

VI huffed, swatting dust away as she trudged through the broken floorboards and miscellaneous broken bits and bobs. Enforcers really tore the place to the ground, huh? Her eyes skimmed past most of the barely functioning attractions that her younger self used to dart to. Boxing and punching fake pads of leather now felt boring compared to the real thing. However,  momentarily, VI's eyes flickered to an especially dull corner. Feeling almost pulled to it, she approached the barren game.

That stupid shooting game she loved. It was the only damn thing she was good at. VI felt unwelcome memories prod at her mind. She should've left. She should've walked away before it got too bad. But she couldn't help but let her fingers run over that toy gun, blowing off dust from its barrel. She couldn't help pretending to aim at the targets. All the while, her face shines in the back of her mind, yet, just out of reach.

Powder? 

Was she forgetting? Her face, her eyes, her nose.  No, she knew what Powder looked like. How could she not? She's her big sister.

Am I?

She's dead. What does it matter? You didn't even give her a proper burial.

Flashes of light screened against the boxer’s eyes, the heavy circles beneath them becoming somehow darker. She briefly rubbed the bridge of her nose, shaking her head to bring her back from her hazy state of remembrance. Instinctively, she tossed the toy gun in her grip into the shooting bay, her chest heaving like it had taken all her willpower to do so with tears pricking at her ducts.

“What're you doing?” A voice from the entrance came, made of broken glass. As if, like magic, VI felt her body straighten up and her eyes dry. A cold huff left her body, her foot pivoting to face the woman behind her. Sevika, again. 

“None of your damn business.”  VI spat out.

“Always some damn attitude with you, isn't there?” Sevika rolled her eyes, her muscled arms lifting to fold around her chest. “No matter, you're late for training. So quit your moping and get moving.” The elder continued to scold. Sighing, the younger followed her reluctantly, making sure to look very visibly irritated.

“ Bleh bleh , gonna be late, bleh bleh , I'm one armed sevika.” She muttered as she trudged.

“I only need one arm to whoop your ass.” Sevika quickly retorted. VI quickly shut up. 

—SIDE : BLUE—

“Jeebus, it's been a long time since I've been back here! Smells shittier than I remembered.” Jinx hoisted herself onto a familiar metal ledge, standing over the city she once called home. The sound of the enforcer behind her, struggling to climb up, made her giggle a bit.

“Some help, please? This infrastructure is nonsense!” Caitlyn called out in distress. Jinx happily walked herself along and offered a hand, yanking her up with a surprising amount of strength.

“Well, I hope you know parkour, toots. Cuz it just gets harder from here!” Exclaimed the younger before running down the ledge and performing several flips and leaps (some entirely unnecessary). Caitlyn, however, carefully tread every path, grabbing onto whatever wall she had for dear life.

They both reconnected at the same point, a cliff-edge before a massive mural of such. And the gap was huge . Powder remembered it all too well, remembered her big sister grabbing her hand and leading her across the massive gap, making it feel like lightwork.

Well, she wasn't here right now. 

“No- No! That is not a humanly possible jump! There has to be another way.” The piltovarian shook her head promptly, in disbelief at the situation. 

“Aren't ya meant to be a cop? Stop being such a scaredy cat! I used to do this all the time as a kid.” Jinx teased, lifting her arms in the air. Still, Caitlyn did not budge. She could just leave the enforcer here… But she'd probably come back with an army in return. With a long sigh, the escapee offered her hand to the enforcer.

“Listen, just hold my hand and I promise we'll get to the other side.” Jinx tried her best to offer a reassuring voice, but she was really restraining laughter from the sight of such a grown woman being so scared. The two waited in silence, Caitlyn's eyes scanning over Jinx’s palm, and then her whole body. After a deep inhale, she hesitantly took the offer. 

“Alrighty! All aboard the Jinx Express! Next stop? Not death!” Jinx exclaimed, running backwards to get a headstart before taking the leap - with Caitlyn's grand squeezing hers so tight she feared it'd burst. 

Tada! Their feet landed safely on the other side. Though, Kirraman was still panting like she had gotten shot. Now they were verifiably safe, Jinx felt it appropriate to laugh now. 

“What's so funny to you!” The elder demanded to know between fits of weak breaths. “Oh, nothing! Just that I was twice the person you were at half your age! Now, c’mon lady, let's keep pushing!” Jinx waved her hand and walked ahead, followed by an offended Caitlyn.

—SIDE : RED—

So, this is the undercity? It's very… green. Caitlyn hoped she'd be able to bust the case by looking around here. Truly, the trip better be worth a possible case of aiding and abetting. For now, she was standing in the corner of an alley, hands folded politely in her lap. Jinx told her to wait out of sight while she got some new clothes. Apparently, convict wear is fine in Zaun, but her enforcer uniform is too much? So backwards.

“Okaaaay, time to de-copify you!” Cheered the voice that had been all she had heard for the past hour or so. Oh, it was Jinx alright. But now she had a new cropped red coat on to cover her Stillwater uniform. She was handing Caitlyn her own pair of new clothes too. When receiving it, Kirraman couldn't help but notice the knuckles of the small girl's hands were bloodied in a manner they weren't before. She wondered whether or not to question it, but it was as if the escapee read her mind. 

“Don't worry about where I got these, 'kay? Let's just go find what we're here to find!” Jinx swatted her hand in the air. Well, she can note down her suspicions later. She supposed it was best to mainly focus on the task at hand. 

—SIDE : BLUE—

Okay, first stop, Jericho’s. Cuz I'm hungry as hell. 

But, uh, where is Jericho’s again?

Oh right, navigating the undercity was much harder when she didn't have her older family leading the way whilst she trailed behind. Eh, no matter. Her nose should lead her to the right place. Jinx beckoned for Caitlyn to follow her until she eventually sniffed out that oh-so-familiar bar.

“JERICHOOO!” Jinx exclaimed, racing to grab a seat whilst Caitlyn sighed and sat next to her, visibly irritated. 

“Ohh, Jerry, it's been so long! Do ya remember me?” Jinx happily hummed, her feet kicking in the chair. Jericho let out a hearty laugh before Jinx quickly ordered her usual. Or what used to be usual five years ago. 

“What is this?” The enforcer asked in a hushed voice, making it clear she was baffled but also wasn't trying to offend.

“Chick, this is greatness . You should try some.” Jinx spoke with intense eyes looking into Kirraman's as a box was slid over to her. She opened it hurriedly, scoffing the colourful food down as if someone would eat it before her. 

Well, if Mylo was here, he probably would. Better get used to keeping my food to myself while it lasts. 

Jinx noticed Caitlyn looking at her, with a look of pure disbelief.

“Oh, my bad, I didn't even offer you any! Here, try some.” Jinx slung a slimy piece in her direction. The enforcer quickly moved away from the offering, shaking her head strongly. “Welp, your loss.” Sighed the escapee, stuffing the piece into her mouth too.

“So, whatcha’ wanna do down here in the undercity? Don't tell me you want a tour?” Jinx mumbled between bites. Caitlyn shuffled around a bit before leaning in close.

“ What do you know about a man named Silco?” Came her voice in an almost frighteningly quiet whisper. Jinx's eyes widened at the mere mention of the name. 

“Silco? Oh, I know Silco. He tried to kill my whole family. What about him?” Jinx hissed. Caitlyn's eyes had a look of brief surprise before nodding solemnly. “Well, I'm trying to take him down after an incident with a blimp. But I need more information on him.” Caitlyn replied, sounding like an offer of sorts. Jinx, whilst still maintaining eye contact with the enforcer, grabbed a napkin and scribbled a symbol on it before handing it to Jericho.

“Hey, one more to go, okay?”

Chapter Text

– SIDE : BLUE –

Things never change, huh?

Wandering through the undercity felt like a walk down memory lane. It all felt pretty much the same. Well, more gangs… And more people were cowering in corners with nothing but a blanket covering them. But, still. Pretty much the same.

Of course, Jinx couldn't ignore the glaring red flag walking next to her. That damn enforcer costume was gonna get both of them beat up if they weren't careful. Slyly, the escapee trailed into a quiet alleyway with Caitlyn following reluctantly behind her. 

“Uh, where are we going? Is this to do with finding Silco?” Caitlyn asked, rather apprehensive. Jinx giggled, pulling off the stuffed toy from her hip and turning her back to the other woman. 

“You see, Vi, she doesn't trust us sneaky zaunites. She's scared out of her mind!” The convict snickered at the toy whilst the taller lady gasped and blubbered in defence and offence. Before Jinx could get any more jokes in, they were inevitably approached by two very shady-looking people. Perfect .

“Heyy, pretty ladies. Whatcha’ doing out here all alone?” Purred a scratchy voice. Jinx visibly cringed at not only this grown man's audacity but also his utter lack of game. Peering behind her, she saw Caitlyn's eyes flickered with a similar disgust and then concern. Jinx giggled, leaning down to grab a sharpened rock in her palm.

“Funny. I could ask you the same thing.”  

– SIDE : RED –

Hefty smoke prickled at her lips. A rustic metal pipe fondled between her coarse fingers.

“Come lay down with me, VI .” A sultry woman purred from beside her. VI could feel the skin of her bare breasts sail against her own exposed, scarred shoulder. Meticulous fingers crept their way under the boxer’s chest, cupping and massaging them gingerly. Briefly, just briefly, a strained whimper slipped past the guard of her clenched teeth. After a few more moments of bathing in the escort’s heat, VI bolstered her legs off the bed's side and stood up. She neglected to wrap some form of cover over her lower half, rather smugly imagining the woman’s hungry grin behind her. 

“Enjoy the view. Same time next week?” VI muttered, wording it like a suggestion yet knowing their arrangement was perdurable. Before awaiting even a semblance of a response, she tossed a small bag onto the woman’s lap and was out of the room - still throwing on the rest of her clothes.  

Trekking out the door, VI lingered for a while, back resting against the cobblestone wall. Whilst she was leaving, she had caught Babette looking at her, with pity.  They all do. The ones who knew her back then. It’s few and far between, but god knows she sees it as if she isn’t better now. Stronger, thriving. 

Violet’s eyes flickered to the pipe in her hands, the lavender smoke whispering from the bowl. What would Powder say if she saw her now?

Tomorrow is better. 

– SIDE : BLUE –

A convict and an enforcer stand outside a brother. “How's the clothes feeling?” Asked the convict. The enforcer laments that they're quite comfortable but is somewhat disconcerted at the means to get them.

“Don't feel bad, they approached us first. Besides, they aren't dead. Just clothless.” Jinx shrugged, tossing the bloodied rock behind her. Caitlyn sighed, looking up at the building before them. “What's this, then?” Kirraman prodded.

“We shoooould be able to get more information on that slippery snake here!” Jinx’s raised voice cheerfully called out to make sure it was heard over the hustle and bustle.

“Uhm… This seems a bit - flowery - for someone a supposed drug lord, no?” Caitlyn hesitantly peered at the building before her, trying to gauge its purpose. The convict tilted her head to the side, squinting. “Yeah, this probably isn’t his scene. But apparently, his second-in-command is here a lot. Besides, I know one of the seniors here.” She added that last part with a cocky look as she held her hands on her hips for a moment. There was no response from the older woman but a confused look. Whatever! Jinx quickly grabbed her arm and pulled her into the entrance. 

“Ack- what even is this place…” The enforcer gasped as she was pulled along. 

“Uhh, what’s it called again…” Jinx paused mid-stride, snapping her fingers. “A brothel thingy, y’know?” She said it so casually, shrugging in the wake of Caitlyn’s wide-eyed shock. 

“Wait- you shouldn’t even be in here! You're- like 12!” Kirraman looked panicked, eyes darting around. This earned an amused look from Jinx before she rolled her eyes. Without giving Caitlyn a chance to object, she waved the enforcer away with a random person before skipping off to find Babette. 

– SIDE : INDIGO –

Kirraman had been leaning against the same wall for quite a while now, watching the same people pass to and fro. How much stamina did these people have? No matter, she was rather content standing by herself, taking up the least amount of space possible. That was, until, a stunning woman passed her. And she meant stunning.

Few silky turquoise and magenta clothes adorned her soft curves. Tanned skin and glitter sparkling on her face. Dark hair swooped up into an elegant bun with a porcelain mask covering eyes that Caitlyn so desperately wanted to see. Was she staring? Was it obvious? Should she—

Her train of thought was thrown all the way off course when the woman she was, quite frankly, gawking at grabbed her hand and trailed off along with her.

Holy shit!

– SIDE : BLUE –

“Remember me?” Jinx leaned in the doorway where Babette was working, waving her fingers at the lady. Ah, how cathartic it felt to see the utter look of shock mixed with happiness on her face everyone should have in her presence. With a hop and a grin, the escapee sat herself down, cross-legged, on the couch opposite the senior worker.

“ Powder? Oh, sweetheart. I’m so glad to know you’re safe.” Babette sighed with a look of sympathy. “We had sworn you died, all too young at that.” She continued to whisper.

“Ahhh, gonna take waaay more than that to kill me! I’m the Powder, ya’know?” Jinx chuckled, throwing her head back proudly. “Don’t worry, I’m not just here to make you cry. I actually need your help, oh wise one.” Babette shook her head with a smile at the name, asking her to go on. 

“Hmm… In short, my freedom kind of relies on my ability to find Silco like…stat.”

– SIDE : INDIGO –

Caitlyn felt like royalty. And it barely cost her any gold at all.

Yes… She was on a mission, and probably shouldn't have trusted that Jinx girl out of her sight for too long. Oh, but how could she care about that when she had this right here? 

“I've only ever imagined the gardens… This is all I've seen.” The goddess beside her cooed, her finger trailing up and down Caitlyn's thigh. Dear lord…

“Hey, who said you could slack off— OH EW!” Jinx had popped into the room, rather randomly, to beckon Caitlyn back out. In utter shock, Caitlyn froze like a deer in headlights whilst the woman looked bemused between the two of them.

“Little sister?” She mumbled, pointing her head at Jinx. Kirraman was about to vehemently deny this until Jinx yanked her up and began pulling her out the door. “Yes, indeed I am! Come on now, Matilda. Mother will be mad if you're out late again.” Jinx play-scolded the older woman as she was dragged out of the room, mortified.

– SIDE : BLUE –

“You spent how much on her? And you didn't even haggle?” Jinx asked in disbelief. The two were now in a quiet corner in the last drop, Jinx sipping on a cool cup of apple juice and Caitlyn some red wine. Honestly, Jinx could tell the enforcer was hesitant to hang out in such a casual setting with her. But she: 1. didn't have a choice if she wanted information about Silco and 2. couldn't really justify being comfortable with almost getting into a stranger's pants but drawing the line at a drink at the bar. Either way, it was a win-win for the convict. 

“Just, forget you ever saw that please.” Must've been embarrassing to get caught fraternising on the job by the 15-year-old who was actually doing her job for her. Hah! “Anyhow… What did you get on Silco?” Caitlyn urged. Jinx feigned a thoughtful look for a second before laying it all out on the table.

“Basically, everyone in the underground became his lackey somewhere in these last 5 years.” Jinx paused for a second, looking conflicted, before resuming. “ Vander used to run the undercity. I guess something happened… Regardless! He's top dog now, and he has people running hella shimmer operations now.” Jinx rambled on. Caitlyn nodded carefully along.

“Now, about getting to him. He'll be hard to take on directly. But, when you start hacking at the legs, the bed falls down. If you get what I mean.” Jinx winked at an utterly unresponsive Caitlyn. Well, never mind then. “Long story short, I know where to find his right-hand woman. Then, we beat the crap out of her.” The convict pounded her fist into her palm with an excited look. Despite being slightly put off, Kirraman understood the overall gist.

“Okay, before you continue, two questions. Firstly, where do we find her? And secondly, why haven't you run away yet?” Caitlyn intrigued. It made sense. Jinx could easily just not involve herself in this insanely high-risk mission to take down the drug lord of Zaun. In response to the first question, Jinx tilted her head at almost 90 degrees with a coy smile on her face.

“She's right behind ya, silly! The one gambling over there.” Caitlyn’s eyes widened, clearly conflicted between turning around to see what this second-hand looked like and not wanting to draw attention to herself. She ultimately sided with the latter approach.

“And as for why I'm working with you...” Jinx looked at the stuffed teddy on her hip, remembering the interaction she had with Babette.

[…” Silco has your sister.”…]

“Let's just say Silco has something important of mine.”

Chapter Text

– SIDE : BROWN –

“Rotten luck, boys!” A hearty chuckle filled the room, followed by the sound of coins collecting on the table. What a rush .

Sevika had finally garnered some time to herself. Between running Silco's errands and babysitting VI, she had truly been strapped for some peace. Of course, no better way to feel at peace than to engage in high-stakes risks and thrilling gambling. Nothing could ruin these few hours she'd have.

Well, that's what she believed. Until she caught a glimpse of a blue blur flying towards her face, catching it all too late to block. 

“What the—” Was all she could whisper until the body hurled straight into the side of her face, knocking her to the ground. Coughing, Sevika pulled herself up, dazed, only to see that the object hurled at her was actually a ragged girl with long blue hair and a red jacket.

Was that? It couldn't be…

– SIDE : BLUE –

[A few moments earlier]

“I understand. So, what do you think we should do? Should we follow her?” Caitlyn bit her lip in thought, most likely just then realising how real this all was.

“Ugh, do I have to do everything?” Jinx rolled her eyes playfully, speaking again before Caitlyn could interject. “I'm messing with you. Besides, I've got a plan.” She continued. The enforcer perked up, seemingly all ears. 

“And it involves you throwing me.” 

[A few moments later]

“ Fuck , her head is hard as hell.” Jinx hissed in pain, rubbing her back whilst clambering back onto her knees. Before she could stand on her feet, she felt a yank from her braid. Her eyes were suddenly level with Sevika’s, who were frankly rather furious. 

“You're really alive, huh?” She muttered, more out of annoyance than relief. Without letting her respond, the woman tossed the smaller girl onto a table, her body collapsing on the wood.

“Not kind to ask a question and not wait for a reply.” Sneered the child, quickly pushing off her back and onto her feet. The two were opposite one another, circling as they intently glared to see who'd make the first move.

And who would Jinx be if she didn't? 

Running close to the floor, Jinx lunged onto her hands and threw her legs up, kicking Sevika in the jaw. The second in command grunted, grasping tightly around Jinx’s ankles and pulling her off the floor.

The escapee pressed her thumbs into Sevika's eyes as she was pulled upwards. She grabbed Jinx’s hand with her spare one, cloaked under a scarf, and tossed her across the room again.

“ARGH!” Yelped the girl, breathing heavily as she tried to sit up. Sevika approached her, pressing her foot on her chest to keep her down. Jinx whimpered. Then, the older lady ripped the scarf off her shoulders, revealing a sight that left the escapee in awe.

A fuckin’ monster of an arm!? That's so unfair!? IT LOOKS LIKE IT'S ALIVE. Jinx’s eyes quickly darted around the room, trying to find a way out of the situation. If only she had Mouser or Whisker…

Or Violet.

No, damnit! No time to think about sad shit, you can cry when you're not about to die!

Shaking her thoughts, Jinx quickly slid between Sevika’s legs, trying to gain as much distance from the woman as she could. She dove behind the bar, searching for anything she could use to set a bottle of alcohol ablaze.

“Hiding, ya damn brat?” Sevika groaned, stalking her way over to the bar. No way this pipsqueak was related to VI. As she got to the stools, a flash of light covered her vision as Jinx launched a Molotov at her. 

Sevika stumbled back, screeching as she tried to kill the flames embering on her clothes and hair. Jinx took the moment to hop out from under the bar, broken glass bottle in hand, and charged at the woman. Swinging back, she stuck the broken glass into Sevika's side. She shrieked as Jinx sat her whole weight on her stomach, threatening to push the bottle in deeper. The bigger they are, the harder they fall, huh?

“If you don't want another hole in your body, you'll answer me, got it? Where is Silco, and where is my family.” Jinx grit her teeth with winced breaths in between her words. Sevika's eyes seemed to darken at the mention of the word ‘family’. But she made no effort to answer. “Speak up, traitor.” Jinx pushed the bottle deeper, earning a howl in response.

“Your family , huh? Your sister's Silco’s real second in command. You know that, right?” After a long bout of silence, Sevika smirked as she teased Jinx about the fate of her sister. The girl's own face became blank very quickly, eyes subtly searching the woman’s face.

Violet? Silco? What a lie. What a fucking lie .

It had to be a lie. But it being a lie didn't make Jinx’s heart beat any faster, or stop her heaving. It didn't stop the flashes of her sister's face, or the scribbles scorning her eyes. No, no it could never happen. 

– SIDE : INDIGO –

Why on earth did she go along with this!? Jinx had convinced her that she could fight Sevika. But that's a child vs a woman who looks like she eats bones for breakfast? What was she thinking? Before they fought, Jinx had given Caitlyn her gun back and told her to go look around and grab as many scrap pieces of wood, metal and nails from wherever she could in the meantime. But Caitlyn had an undoubtedly bad feeling about the fight. She'd just have to make do with whatever she collected because she was going back.

Bursting into the bar itself probably wasn't a good idea. The enforcer travelled around to higher ground, and just in time at that. Jinx had been thrown through the wall. Her leg had a massive lump on it and she was crawling instead of getting up. 

I knew It— I knew I should've stayed!

Caitlyn panicked, lifting her rifle to eye level and aiming at the brute of a woman above Jinx. 

Do I aim at her head? I can't kill someone… I've never killed someone before. 

Caitlyn's head buzzed. What was the right thing to do? Does she even help her? The only reason she was in this situation was because Jinx had forcefully knocked her out and held Silco above her head… No— She's just a child. But she was in prison? I can't think, I can't think. 

[“Young Kirraman, what are you shooting for?” ]

Like the sun peering between the clouds on a groggy day, Caitlyn felt her mind clear. With a deep inhale, Caitlyn targeted Sevika's mechanical shoulder blade. 

BANG. BANG. BANG. 

Three shots. The arm fell clean off. Sevika had run away. Jinx looked half unconscious.

Really, what had she gotten herself into? 

– SIDE : BLUE –

Shallow breaths dared to breach their way through clenched teeth. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. Jinx meekly tried to reach for her demolished leg, but any and all movement caused her body to scream. All she could do was lay on the floor, whimpering.

“Vi.. vi she's lying, right? Vi, you didn't join them, right?” Jinx whispered, tears threatening to spill as she spoke to the teddy. With no response, she simply clutched it close to her chest, trying to ignore the vivid lights flashing around in her brain.

Jinx couldn't even find the effort to react to the sound of hurried footsteps approaching behind her. Was someone coming to finish her off? She didn't want to die before She saw Vi… but what could she do?

“Jinx! Jinx, oh my gosh, are you okay? Oh— obviously you aren't! Ah, okay, okay. Here, let's sit up, okay?” 

Caitlyn?

Gentle arms cradled her back and side as she was gingerly lifted and rested upon the wall. What is she doing? Fussing over a criminal like this, isn't that against the enforcer code, or something?

But Jinx couldn't complain or fight back. It felt nice, being held, cradled, and fussed over. She missed it. 

“Okay, this leg… We'll need something to set it. Hah, I guess that errand you had me go on was useful for something.” Kirraman dryly chuckled, ripping off some of her sleeve and using it to tie a metal rod around Jinx’s leg.

“... I expected you to leave,” Jinx muttered, finally getting breath to speak.

“That's an odd way to say thank you.” Caitlyn sighed, her hands on Jinx’s cheek for any fatal scars. “Enforcers are here to help. Whether you're innocent or guilty. Piltovarian or Zaunite.” She added softly. Jinx would've laughed if every part of her body wasn't aching. “Sure thing, Caitie.” She whispered, instead. A look mixed with surprise and confusion flickered across Caitlyn’s eyes. But she simply shook her head and stood up after checking on all her injuries. 

“You won’t be able to walk. What would you like to do?” The enforcer tried on a more formal voice, probably because she knew the only option ahead was gonna be embarrassing as all hell. 

“I think you know.” Jinx snicker-coughed, raising her arms up. With a sigh, Caitlyn kneeled down, back towards Jinx and let her wrap her hands around her shoulders. Then, she pushed herself back up, with the convict now sat snugly on her back. “I’m sure you’re enjoying yourself,” Caitlyn scoffed.

“Yeah, I am.”

– SIDE : RED –

“You’re getting better at following instructions, VI.” Silco praised, holding and examining the vial of the liquid VI wanted so badly.

She hated this office. The only good thing about it was the shimmer. That chair doesn’t even look comfortable. VI didn’t care to register what he was talking about. Whether he was criticising or blessing her, she couldn’t give a shit. It was all just a means to an end.

“SILCO! She’s –” Sevika burst into the room, clutching her gut and missing her arm. What the hell? VI instantly swivelled around, in shock at the sight before her. Who the hell could put Sevika, the strongest person she knew, in a position like that ? It almost felt unnerving.

“What happened!” VI prodded Sevika to continue, but she looked… apprehensive. Her eyes definitely darted to Silco when VI asked. Before the boxer could get any more information, Silco spoke up, “VI, you are dismissed.” She spun back around to face the man, in utter disbelief. Dismissed? No fuckin way she wasn’t finding out what happened. VI was about to tell him as much before the purple vial landed in her lap. Along with a knowing look from Silco, VI groaned but understood. Begrudgingly, she clasped onto the shimmer tightly as she trekked out of the office.

Stupid Silco and Sevika keeping stupid secrets. I don’t even need this shit, I could throw it away if I really wanted. Her mind raced.

Yet she felt herself pressing the vial against her skin anyhow.

Chapter Text

– SIDE : INDIGO –

She was silent. Scarily silent. So much so to the point that Caitlyn would’ve feared the girl was dead if it weren’t for the occasional directions that she mumbled out from behind the enforcer’s shoulder. Caitlyn thought she’d be relieved by the peace, but it was just… unnerving. 

“So… What was the metal you had me go grab? Were you trying to run out on me?” The Kirraman girl hesitantly asked to break the tension rather than actually interrogate the escapee. 

“If I was trying to get rid of you, I would’ve pushed you off the ledge when I first escaped,” Jinx replied, rather nonchalantly. Caitlyn let out a dry chuckle but was unsure of the honesty of her statement. Guess it was a bad time to strike up a conversation. With the mood strained even more, the enforcer merely continued to follow Jinx’s directions in relative silence. 

…

“Here. See that house.” Jinx eagerly spoke up all of a sudden, pointing to what looked like the remains of a shed. At least it did to Caitlyn. Now she looked at it, this whole area was so… off. She hadn’t seen anything like it ever before - it was as if it came straight out of an evil city from a storybook. Destitute and solitary. 

“Ack- what was that!” Caitlyn jumped backwards as she heard scuttling by her feet. Swiftly, she pointed a flashlight at the source of the noise. Across her view came a harrowing sight. Bodies, barely alive. Starved to the bone with boils and cracks layering their skin. The woman couldn’t decide whether she felt sick or sorrowful. Maybe both? Was this… Shimmer ? Instinctively, the enforcer reached for her gun; only to have her hand slapped away by Jinx.

“They’re people , Piltie. The ones you guys don’t wanna think about. Just go inside the house, alright?” In the few moments the two had known each other, Caitlyn had never heard such sinister anger bubble beneath Jinx’s words. The older lady stumbled over her words, wanting to be defensive, but felt her excuses falling short at every turn. Instead, she sighed and obliged, heading to the slowly crumbling house.

– SIDE : BLUE –

With her mind half submerged in what Sevika had said earlier and half determined to make sure Caitlyn didn't fall off a cliff, Jinx was losing brain power by the second. Once the enforcer gingerly laid her against the crumbling wall, a massive sigh left her lips. Too much was happening . Oh, what she'd give to never have to get up again. Ugh, let's think about something else.

The convict's eyes wandered around the house, squinting as a familiar feeling pranced just on the tip of her tongue. Her gaze soon fell upon some colourful crayon scribbles across the room - breaths becoming shallow and chest heaving. No way…Was this?

“You're a real artist, pow-pow! Draw me next!” Two blurry figures laughed and played with the drawings. One taller, with vaguely red hair swung her arms wildly. The other, smaller and pathetic, watched her in awe. “ Violet… ” Powder softly Spat out, in desperation. 

“Is that your favourite colour?” The illusion shattered in two with Caitlyn kneeling beside her, inspecting her leg intently. Jinx wasn't entirely conscious of her speaking and returned to Kirraman with a confused look instead. “Ah- Never mind.” The older woman mumbled. Every so often, Caitlyn would press at Jinx’s wound in a way that made her audibly wince or whimper. Each of which was promptly followed by panicked apologies. 

“It won't be helpful to either of us if you can't walk this entire time,” Caitlyn began, standing up with a hand on her chin. “Awe, you mean you can't just carry me everywhere?” Jinx dryly joked. Kirraman rolled her eyes before looking around.

“Alright, stay here. Well— you can't go anywhere else in the first place, but just hang tight. I'll be back.” Jinx must've been unable to hide her concern because Caitlyn briefly knelt back down to ruffle her hair, rather hesitantly, before making her way out of the house. Her brain was still fuzzy, lights and chicken scratch of faded memories tormenting her, even causing her to flinch occasionally. She was so tired.

Maybe death is like going to sleep.

– SIDE : CHUCK –

“Chuck, my man! You know what’s good.” 

VI’s words slurred as they left her lips, comparably as sloppy as her footwork as she tumbled into the bar. With a loud crash, her chin slammed onto the bar desk as she somehow managed to plop her ass into a seat without tumbling to the ground. Yep, she had managed to get all but entirely smashed before even reaching the bar. Best of all, she managed to scare all the other patrons away . God, why did he decide to work here?

“H-Hi, VI…” Muttered the bartender as he reached down to grab a cup for the boozed-up woman. “Uhm, are you sure more alcohol is what you need right now?” He sheepishly added, desperately trying to avert her gaze and bracing for an outburst. One that never came, lucky for him.

“God, why’s it matter? If I drink myself ta death, ‘m sure Silc-ey will just stuff me full of bolts ‘n turn me into a robot… or somethin’. No one cares if ya live or die, Chucky. Didja’ know that?” Instead, the boxer wound off on some self-deprecating, quarter-life crisis - which left Chuck wondering if he would’ve just preferred for her to get into a bar fight instead. Well, what does he say now? 

“O-Oh, that’s not true… I mean- I’d be pretty lonely if you died.” Tried the cautious man whilst he carefully slid a heavily diluted shot of beer to VI. With what seemed to be an immense amount of effort, VI pulled her face off from the surface beneath her and rested on her cheek. Her eyes looked up and down at Chuck for a few painstakingly long seconds before she scoffed. “Nice try, Chucky. But I’m not into dudes.” 

That wasn’t what I was-! Oh, never mind. Chuck could at least be relieved that the girl wasn’t going to try and stab someone with the shards of that shot glass… At least he prayed she wouldn’t. “Well. What’s got you feeling so… you know?” Chuck gently prodded further. At this point, he should run a start-up business as the Undercity’s first-ever therapist. Frighteningly so, VI was silent for a second.

“Silco and Sevika are hidin’ somethin’ from me. ‘N it’s important too. Maybe they’re finally selling me out.” She grumbled, much akin to that of a disgruntled child. Secrets, huh? It was then the bartender’s turn to be silent as he poured another shot. Speaking of the big boss, he was sure he had heard rumblings amongst his lackeys of an errand he had set. Something to do with two young girls, and something blue. Probably a low-level bounty, in all honesty. But, still, if the man in charge didn’t tell VI, there’s no way a simple bartender should be the one to, right? Well, Chuck didn’t have much time to think it through between a knowing glare from VI caused him to spill his half-baked thoughts. VI watched intently as he blabbed, seemingly sobering up with each word that left his mouth - which made him inconceivably more nervous. Once he ran out of steam, they both simply stared at each other. Agonisingly silent.

“Well, whaddya know… Ya useful for more than just pouring drinks. Way to go, Chucky!” VI roughly pulled the bartender into an over-the-counter shoulder hug, complimented with a few strong back pats, before promptly letting go of him and turning to leave the bar. Despite her new and sudden cheery demeanour, there was a sinister tone underlying her voice. 

Oh, god, I so fucked up. 

– SIDE : INDIGO –

Oh, god, I so fucked up!!

What was she thinking? Why would she trade her gun for a small jar of elixir? She should’ve just stolen it and run for her life! She wasn’t weak, don’t get her wrong. But after seeing that woman who was basically half-machine? What on earth would she do if someone like that attacked her?! 

Oh… but that poor man. He looked so meek, so sickly. And he still went out of his way to assist her. Even if it was only because he felt he owed Jinx, it was still a miraculously kind gesture in the enforcer’s eyes. Besides, Jinx was a wild enough card. Even though she was older, she felt oddly safe with the chaos bomb beside her. 

Lost in her own thoughts, poor Caitlyn hadn’t heard the scuttling behind her. Nor the footsteps of worn shoes or the sloshing of liquid in a vial (that wasn’t her own).

“Quite ignorant, to say she’s the child of a council member. Wouldn’t you say?”

What?

Caitlyn spun around so fast that the jar nearly flew from her hands; only to be confronted with a horrifying sight. 

A man whose face half lurked in the shadows, carried by scarred skin. Shrouded in a long coat that concealed any semblance of a human body. Visibly coarse fingers wrapped around tubes that sported a luminescent, magenta glow. That glow ever so softly lit up the faces of the beggars by the man’s feet, all clawing to get whatever he had in his hands.

Shimmer? Silco? Oh, God… Kirraman didn’t consider herself easily scared. But, truly, what she saw made her heart scream in her ribcage. She had been so focused on ‘solving the unsolvable’ and ‘putting away the bad guy’ that she hadn’t actually processed how horrific the scenario was until she was face to face with it. Yet, in spite of all her fear, she just couldn’t find it within her will to abandon people who were clearly being tormented!

“These are your people! What are you doing to them!” Caitlyn stood her ground, no matter how much her voice trembled.

“An enforcer preaching about community. And I thought I’d heard it all.” His voice made her want to vomit. As if a man like him could judge her! Their poor faces, the man who helped her before. They’re people. People who need help.

[“They’re people, Piltie.”]

“You’re committing dreadful acts on the vulnerable, and for what? Power? Money? How could you sleep at night!” She felt her words waver as her fear and anger mixed into an entirely foreign feeling to the enforcer. She felt as if she was pouring her heart out in its purest form. Maybe she could…

He laughed. Such a cruel, cruel laugh. So inhumane that it sent shivers up the young Kirraman’s neck. 

“Always the idealists who think they can change the real world despite never having to live in it.” Silco sneered. The real world? Was this the real world? A world where people are pawns to be played with for your own gain? Unforgivable. Unforgivable .

“No matter,” He cut through her mind, “It seems I’ll have a lovely peace offering for your mother.” Silco ceremoniously released the glass in his hands, not even bothering to spare a glance at the cloaked beggars scratching at the broken shards to get even the slightest taste of the monstrous liquid. 

“ Your corpse , wrapped in a lovely bow.” 

– SIDE : BLUE –

How long had it been? Once gathering her mind, Jinx had begun working so attentively on crafting her specialities - bombs - that she hadn’t even noticed how much time had passed. It wasn’t until she was going over her little scribbles for the 3rd time that she realised how quiet it was. “Hm.. You think she left me, Vi?” Jinx mumbled, her thumbs brushing her most recent creations. 

Vi’s voice was so sharp in her mind, yet so garbled. Powder felt her eyebrows furrow as her lip quivered, trying to hear something. Anything . It soon became too straining as she threw the piece of metal in her hands on the floor in frustration.

“Fine! Don’t talk to me. I don’t wanna talk to you either. C’mon, Mousers.” The girl huffed, biting back tears as she scooped up her weapons and contorted to get back onto her feet. 

“I don’t need you or that stupid enforcer. Jinx is flying solo.” Jinx continued to argue with herself as she left, but not before she threw some coloured powder at the drawings on the wall. She didn’t want to think about sisters right now.

…

Well, she had sorta forgotten where she was. A young girl with a limp who seemed to be carrying something of value had people presuming she was an easy target. Their mistake. However, the amount of people who had tried something had to be way above average. Even for Zaun. At least she had gotten a cool gun out of it. A cool gun that also doubled as something she could keep her blue gem in. It gets itchy keeping a magical crystal in your hair. It was now actually called Zapper. Because she very fully intended to zap all her enemies away with it.

Anyhow, after contemplating with some post-boss-rush clarity, Jinx started to entertain the idea that Miss Enforcer had gotten herself into some trouble. And, of course, their partnership was just starting to go places. The convict couldn’t let it die in the blossoming phase! Plus, she supposed she sorta, kinda, just maybe owed her because Caitlyn did technically save her life… Technicalities aside, Jinx’s mind was set assured. With a bit of asking around and a bit of gun-waving, Jinx got the general gist that Kirraman had been spotted at some sort of apothecary. Did Jinx know where the hell any apothecaries were in the Undercity? No. But, she could count on one thing. Chaos always found her.

And, likewise, she always found it. 

And find it she did. From atop a rickety ledge, she finally caught sight of Caitie. Yay! Buuuut, she wasn’t exactly in favourable odds. Booooo. It looked like she was being chased by some goony-looking types. What a tragic situation, one that surely would end in Caitlyn’s demise. Of course, that would be if it weren’t for the big, fat hero watching over her like a guardian angel!

After patting herself on the back preemptively, Jinx swiftly slid down a pile of debris (moreso tumbled down with her leg the way it is) and hobbled her way over to the chase.

She let one eye shut as she lifted her gun to position. 

[“What’s the matter, Mylo? Worried Powder’s gonna beat you again?”]

Target in sight.

[“What makes us different makes us strong.”]

Finger on the trigger…

“DON'T SHOOT THEM!”

What?

Powder jolted backwards, the gun firing off just inches away from Caitlyn’s cheek, who had noticed Jinx at the last second and changed trajectory towards her. The girl could feel her mind scramble again. Flashes, which she knew all too well, stabbing her brain. In what little clarity she had left, Jinx grit her teeth and reached for one of her shoddy-crafted bombs. With trembling fingers and watery eyes, she yanked the pin out. The metal flew far, behind Kirraman but before her pursuers. Caitlyn had looked terrified, yet took Jinx in her embrace, tightly. 

And when it exploded, the two’s bodies were sent flying.

[“She jinxes every job.”]

Chapter Text

– SIDE : RED –

It can't be. Can it? It has to be a coincidence. 

Blue hair? Shooting?

Silco swore she was dead.

But it's Silco . He'd lie for less. 

He wouldn't dare. 

Would he?

VI found herself sitting in the hallway of the Last Drop, right outside Silco's office. Everything felt like it was moving at a snail's pace. VI's frows furrowed; not even realising that she had long bitten the skin of her knuckles off. In the recent revelation that her sister may still be alive, VI’s mind travelled to the last thing she ever gave to Powder.

The flare. It was so damn old. Probably had no way of working anymore. She should just forget about it. But she couldn't. The more she thought of it, the more her fists tightened.  She could need it. If she's out there, she could be looking for me. She needs me.

The boxer’s mind was made up, as simple as that. She'd grab the flare and leave it somewhere Powder would be sure to find it. Somewhere special to them . And then, when she set it off, VI would come running to her. She'd hold her so tight. She'd never let go of her, ever again.

– SIDE : INDIGO –

A wall of debris settled behind the curtain of dissipating smoke. Thankfully, it separated Caitlyn and Jinx from their pursuers. The two scrambled onto their feet with Caitlyn carrying most of Jinx’s weight on her shoulder. Jinx was seemingly catatonic as she leaned onto Kirraman; both bathing in the destruction’s ambience.

“Why… Did you stop me?” A small voice finally broke the emptiness. One so unlike the voice she had gotten to know. Caitlyn didn’t understand; doing a double take with a confused yet uneasy look. Powder quietly repeated herself, her face scrunching up in a look of panic.

“What did you do? I was saving you! Why did you stop me- !” Her words fell from her lips like the rubble descended from the blast. Even in the dark, Caitlyn could see her cobalt irises darting around the bloodshot sclera. The girl’s shoulders’ jerked as her small frame trembled. What was happening? Was she scared of something? Caitlyn reached her hand out in an attempt to console the girl, yet all it garnered was Jinx flinching quite violently away from her. Did she scare her?

“I know you were trying to save me. But, those people… They didn’t deserve death.” Caitlyn inhaled steadily before replying to Jinx’s breakdown in a contrastingly soft and quiet voice. A light briefly lit in Jinx’s sunken eyes - which finally moved to meet her. Her lip quivered, her body folded in on itself. She was so… small. Caitlyn felt her heart pang with guilt. Guilt for what? She was unsure. But it was there nonetheless. 

“They were chasing you… I was trying to protect you. I can-”

“I know you can. I trust you to have my back. You’re extremely brave.” Caitlyn’s face softened from concern to a sad, compassionate smile. Jinx scanned over every inch of the expression, trying to discern any hint of a lie or deception. But, she’d never find it. Because it was the truth. Caitlyn could see the tension in her body physically deplete as she lunged into the older woman’s arms, tightly gripping her back whilst her injured legs wrapped around her. As if Kirraman would disappear if her hold loosened even a little bit.

Come to think of it, the enforcer hadn’t ever stopped to question it. The child quivering in her arms was the same girl once locked up in a prison - for God knows how long. Even Caitlyn herself had written Jinx off pretty quickly as a criminal - an untrustworthy one at that. One who used the greater good as personal leverage. But why on earth was such a young girl locked up? Where were her parents? She mentioned the fact that Silco tried to kill her family. That must mean they’re still alive somewhere , right?

“You’re gonna go now, right? You found Silco… You can go back to Piltover and be the hero. Forget about me.” Through sniffles and stutters, Jinx pulled away lethargically from the enforcer. Upon the realisation of her forthcoming loneliness, she resigned to hugging herself. Leave her here, alone? After everything, of course not!

“Your family, you want to find them, right?” Caitlyn carefully brooched the topic. Jinx turned her head to her hesitantly. Interest clearly peaked, but fear still restrained her from inquiring more. 

“I mean, after all we’ve been through, I might as well see you to the end of your mission. Right?” This time, Kirraman shuffled closer to her, playfully nudging the girl until she got a smile out of her. Which she did, a big beam, too. This time, Caitlyn embraced her, ginger hands guiding Jinx into her hold. She could’ve sworn she heard the smaller say something. Something rhyming with ‘Bye’? Well, she wouldn’t push the girl on it. 

They should probably get to finding someplace that isn’t riddled by dust and debris…

– SIDE : RED –

It was right where she expected it to be. Right on Pow-Pow’s bed. Guess that means she didn’t take it before- 

… If she had. I could’ve saved her. Why didn’t she listen

No, stop it. VI couldn’t risk messing up seeing her sister. She had grown so callous and cold. She feared her sister might not even recognise her. She had to be at her best. For her. Trying to clear her mind, she blew at the dust. Don’t want Pow-Pow to have a coughing fit the first thing after picking it up . Hah, the idea of her baby sister sneezing like a kitten did make her laugh. Anyhow, here she was. Back at the old arcade. If Powder was around, it didn't seem like she had been back here yet. 

Stepping through the broken glass didn't feel as stifling this time. VI, for once, didn't feel tormented by vague shadows and muffled voices calling out to her. Instead, her heart swelled with hope. For the first time in years . Love adorned her every move as she delicately tucked the flare into the corner of the shooter game desk. Touch lingered. VI was hesitant to let go. It was so long ago, but it was the most recent thing Powder had touched. Letting it go felt like letting go of her.

Please, to Janna, don't let anyone else find this. Only Powder. 

Finally finding the strength to pull away, VI exhaled shakily. Still, she wasn't hearing anything. Her mind showed her no cruelty, to her shock. And it wasn't because she had drowned herself in alcohol and shimmer this time. Without even realising it, a small smile crept onto her face. 

Maybe she could be gentle again. 

– SIDE : BLUE –

“Ta-daa!”

The two had sought refuge in the one place Powder trusted. A super secret hideout. One that she was surprised hadn't been bulldozed down in her time away. Though, it wasn't all that secret anymore, especially with the hole in the wall. That scene still made Powder's heart drop.

“We'll probably have to patch this up. If it's gonna be our little hideout.” Caitlyn commented, joining Jinx to look at the shattered glass. “I'd imagine you could fix this up single-handedly, seeing these little contraptions you whipped up so quickly.” Added the enforcer, holding up one of Jinx's makeshift bombs. Jinx looked at the creation proudly. Cait affirmed her pride with a kind smile. 

“Oh- wait. You need to drink this!” The enforcer yanked a small vial out from her belt, shaking it in Jinx’s face. Instantly, Powder's face fell. It looked like it tasted disgusting, and her leg was practically all healed. Okay, well, actually it might be permanently fucked up because of how much pressure she's put on it. But still. Unfortunately, it looked like Caitlyn wasn't letting up. Making a big stink about it, Jinx eventually drank the concoction. Her face screwed shut and she had to put her hand over her mouth to ensure the escapee didn't projectile spit the liquid right back out. Kirraman rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You're such a child.” She teased. Jinx just shrugged in response. 

“Well, speaking of…” Uh oh, Jinx knew where this was going, “How old are you?” And there it was. For a second, Jinx sat there with her bottom lip slightly sticking out in thought. If the two of them were gonna be working as partners…

“20…” Jinx replied.

“... 20?” Caitlyn mumbled, firmly in disbelief. 

“-Minus 5 years.” The younger one threw in. Of course, everything had to be a game with her. That was her specialty after all.  “Oh… And, how long were you jailed for?” Kirraman seemed unsure if she even wanted to ask it in the first place. Suppose it was a natural progression of a curious mind. 

“Mm… 5 years.” Came a curt answer. The enforcer didn't reply to the revelation at first. The escapee worried she had said something to throw her off, quickly swivelling around to check on Caitlyn. Oh, of course. 

It was pity. 

It's not like she didn't hear how fucked up it was. But she guessed it was just easier to not think about it that much. It's not like she could even remember that much of it. God knows she blocked most of it out. The two were in silence again.

“I'm — so sorry.” Caitlyn blurted out. Jinx gave her a confused look before shaking her head with a chuckle. Why was she apologising? Was she the one who conspired to get her in jail, or something? Silly enforcer. Instinctively, she reached for her bunny to lighten the mood. That is, until she realised she had left Vi in that run-down house after her breakdown. 

FUCK!

“Jinx, are you good? What are you looking for?” Her panic must've been visible as she frantically searched around. Feeling too overwhelmed to speak, Jinx simply pouted and pointed at the hook on her hip where Vi usually rested. It took the older a while, but her eyes eventually widened in understanding and then squinted in determination.

“Your bunny, right? That's what you're missing!”

– SIDE : INDIGO –

In any other context, Caitlyn may feel a bit odd going on an adventure to retrieve a 15-year-old's stuffed toy. But, after everything they've gone through, this was probably the least she could do. At least this time, she was clothed in a brown cloak and a Jinx-made mask now that she knew Silco's goons were probably on their heads. Oh, and a singular bomb that Jinx insisted she takes for self-defence. Though, Caitlyn most definitely wouldn't use it.

Thankfully, she had retrieved the bunny with only minor inconveniences and was now on the way back to their little hideout. It was amazing how much blending in could do for you. Still, she was probably too in her thoughts for safety's liking. The enforcer couldn't help it - it was impossible to ignore the sinking hole in her heart.

I became an enforcer to help. Yet, all I hear about is how horrible they are here. And who on earth put a 10-year-old in jail? Was this really happening under our noses the entire— 

“Ouch! Excuse you !” Caitlyn hissed, holding her shoulder. Her crisis was promptly cut short by what could be described as, both figuratively and literally, a rude awakening. A muscled-up girl in a long black trench coat, pinkish-red spiky hair that seemed to be faded by black hair dye and a ton of piercings just shoved her out of the way. How dare she! Caitlyn's outburst made the rude woman send a glare her away. Guess they were glaring at each other. 

“‘Scuse me?” The mystery girl spoke, curling her lip in malice. Kirraman's breath hitched for a second. But she wouldn't allow someone to walk all over her. She is a Kirraman, after all.

“You can't just shove people and act surprised that they - oh, I don't know - don't like it.” Caitlyn sneered back. She had fully intended to walk away with her head held high. Well, in doing so, she gave the other woman the perfect opportunity to grab her by the neck… Which she did.

Caitlyn yelped as she was yanked backwards into a nearby wall, now being pinned by the shorter girl. “You got somethin’ you wanna fuckin’ say?”. She hissed, bringing Caitlyn's face closer to hers. God - she reeked of alcohol. Badly. No wonder she was acting such a mess. And she had a faded cigarette between her rosy lips. Explained the smoke smell. Okay— Caitlyn, you can stop staring at them. Anyhow, the enforcer gave no response. Kirraman was bold, but not stupid. She'd rather take a hit to the ego than one to the face. After what felt like forever of the two gazing into each other's eyes, the opposing force scoffed, tossing Cait to the side. 

“Whatever. You're lucky I'm feeling good today.” She grumbled as she relit the cigarette between her lips. Oh, was *that* what feeling good was? Let's pray she never feels angry. Caitlyn bitterly thought.

“Watch ya back, sweet tits .” And, with that, the aggressor made her way. Good ridda‐

SWEET WHAT!?

…

Finally, she was back at the hideout. Caitlyn either took her sweet time or Jinx was an engineering prodigy. Or both. Not only had she fixed up the wall but she also set up some lights and makeshift beds.

“Wow— looks like someone definitely had a better time than me. Gosh, you won't believe it… Jinx?” Caitlyn peered around the corner to see Jinx standing by the shooting range, eerily still. Holding something, at that. It seemed different to the guns that had been lined up there. Caitlyn tried calling her name once more. Jinx slightly turned to face her, revealing the object in her hands a bit more clearly. It was long, like a telescope, almost?

“It's my sister's flare.”

Chapter Text

[Switch!AU designs for Powder, VI and Caitlyn]

[Caitlyn getting caught in 4k - chapter 4]

[Sevika reminding VI she can still kick her ass no matter how old she is]

[Caitlyn in her hairdresser era]

[Caitlyn meeting VI - chapter 7]

[VI getting tag teamed by Cait and Jinx]

[Isha and VI quality time]

[Boy Saviour working hard ft. Powder barely working]

[No comment]

Chapter Text

– SIDE : FADED RED –

[Rain, like everything else in her life, battered Violet.

Sprawled out on the sidewalk, barely breathing, Vi watched as the dreary sky above mocked her. God, she was hungry. When did she last eat? It probably didn't matter anymore. She'd die here. They'd burn her body. It'd be like she never existed.

Just like them.

It’d be easy. To slowly slip away into the grasp of unconsciousness on a lone sidewalk in the lanes. No one to bother her from the eerily silent saunter to slumber. Just the way she wanted.

Until she remembered, there was no rest for the wicked. 

To her disgruntlement, the teenager was faced with two looming shadows creeping over her. People leering at her whose faces she didn't care to make out beyond their malicious smiles. With the ringing in her ears, she could barely distinguish the words being conversed above her. Something something see if she has any money. Did she look like she had any money?? Maybe if she played dead the bastards would let her rest in peace.

Until she remembered, the world hated her. 

Whilst lying lifelessly, the young girl was met with a coarse kick to her stomach. There was enough force behind it to send her rolling backwards. On shaky hands, the horribly dazed girl attempted to pull herself up onto her knees whilst simultaneously trying not to double over in her coughing fit. Fuck. Before being granted even a mere few seconds to ground her bearings, Violet felt a fistful of her hair being yanked as her limp body was raised into the air. The vile faces before her were crystal clear now, their eyes glistening with opportunity and smiles laced with malevolence. “No one told ya it’s not safe to be out late alone? Where’s ya, mommy and daddy?” One sneered, cackling like he found himself to be the best stand-up comedian to ever grace the Lanes’.  My mom and dad? Obviously, they died. Vander? He died too. My brothers? Of course…

My baby sister too.

Suffice it to say, the teenager was truly the epitome of alone. There was nothing left to fight or protect. She really should’ve given up. Let the attackers take what they wanted from her. Not that she had anything.

Yet, despite it all, a flicker of rebellion burnt within her soul. As her powder-blue irises swayed away from the assailants, Vi could’ve sworn she saw the brief flicker of another pair of eyes in the shadowed alleys behind them. And like that, the teenager curled her lip, raising her head to unsheath a glare both so empty and, yet so full of fury that it darkened her eyes.

“You wanna die?” ]

– SIDE : BLUE –

Jinx had merely intended to see if she could fix up the old shooting range. For nostalgia purposes, ya know? Little did she know she’d be encountering enough nostalgia to set her for life. As her fingertips brushed across the dusty barrier, something caught the tinker’s attention from the corner of her eye. At first, she assumed it was another flashlight. But, once it was in her hands, she felt every muscle in her body tighten. For her, time froze. Nothing was happening outside of the revelation in her palms. It wasn’t until she finally heard her name from Caitlyn that she felt she could move again. Turning to face the older girl, Powder held the biggest grin on her face. 

“It's my sister's flare.”

…

“Look, Caitie. It has her name on it!” Powder excitedly pointed to the carving in the wood that read V.I. Her eyes then eagerly looked up to Caitlyn’s eyes, feet swinging happily. The enforcer examined it carefully, seemingly sceptical. 

“Would’ve helped quite a bit to leave a note or something. How do we know it isn’t a trap?” Kirraman proposed. To this, Powder playfully rolled her eyes. 

“Even if it is a trap, all I need to do is set it off somewhere that I’ll know Vi will find it. Once we’re together, we can handle anything that comes our way!” As if to demonstrate, Jinx threw a few air punches. Cait nodded along, still visibly hesitant.

“You and Vi would totally get along. She's like, all noble and stuff, she protects people weaker than her - like me, haha! She's sooo strong, she could probably lift a car if she really tried.” Powder continued gushing about her big sister, her arms flailing in her usual Jinx-like theatrics. However, it wasn't as if the teenager couldn't recognise the look of distrust on Kirraman's face. Well, that's just Caitie for ya. Always thinking too much!

“Anyways, we need to find high ground to set this off from. And we should stock up on weapons, just in case it is a trap.” Jinx nudged and winked at Caitlyn as she said the last bit, seemingly attempting to reassure the older girl. At last, the enforcer sighed and nodded, giving Jinx all the energy she needed to jump up and start collecting all her bits and bobs. Whilst she was collecting her gadgets, she felt something soft nuzzle against her cheek. 

“Don't forget this.” Caitlyn hummed, revealing the fuzzy feeling to be the bunny she had set out to retrieve. Powder might as well have audibly squeaked as she cradled the toy into her shoulder, rocking softly with it. 

“Vi! I bet you can't wait to see her too, right?”

– SIDE : FADED RED –

[Bastards. The bigger they are, the harder they fall. Hope they enjoy their probably forever nap. 

Vi rubbed her bloody knuckles on her tattered clothes. For a second, she considered taking the clothes off their backs to use. But, they had suffered enough disrespect already, what being two grown men getting beat within an inch of their lives by a fifteen-year-old. Besides, there were more pressing matters ahead. 

“You. Show yourself. You want some too?” The teenager grumbled, balling her fists and preparing for another brawl. The golden eyes had still been watching her from the shadows. Once she addressed them, they stepped out, throwing their engulfing cape to the side quite dramatically. 

Oh, it's her. That goon of Silco's - his right hand (‘cuz she doesn’t have a left one). Sevika .

“You wanna fight? I won't go easy on you just cuz you're missing an arm.” Vi spent no hesitation, locking her fists up into a defensive stance. The girl hadn't actually fought Sevika before, but she couldn't be any stronger than the rest of his bumbling crew. Plus, she only had one arm.

“Put your hands down, brat. I don't fight pipsqueaks like you unless there's no good reason.” The woman curtly replied, not even seemingly threatened by Vi's square-up. Still, her hands didn't leave their protective state. To that, the opposing woman just sighed, “Fine, keep them up. Don't blame me when they're aching, though.”

“What do you want.” Vi spat out.

“You really fucked those two up.” Sevika continued, entirely avoiding Vi's question as she leaned over to peer at the beaten bodies. Frustratedly, Vi repeated herself, “What do you want,  traitor ?”

As if expecting that, the older woman sighed and pulled a light to the cigarette between her lips. “You think I'm a traitor, huh?” She muttered.

“You worked with that snake to kill Vander. He trusted you.” The teen hissed, emotion slipping into her voice. The two held a silence for a while, only broken by a few puffs of smoke from Sevika. 

“Did Vander not betray the Undercity when he became comfortable in the back pocket of Piltover? He grew complacent, so I took him out. I'd have done the same to anyone else. Goals are bigger than people.” Rattled off the smoker, pulling her cig out between two fingers and making gestures. Vi watched as the smoke twisted and warped itself around her hand as she spoke. Similar to the bubbling anger in her stomach. Who the fuck did she think she was? 

“Vander didn't betray the Undercity, he was protecting it!” Vi launched herself at the one-armed woman, sure she'd finally be able to shut her up like those other two. Unfortunately, she was never so lucky. Sevika swiftly picked her up by the collar, keeping her at arm's distance whilst Vi kicked and punched the air wildly.

“No. He was protecting you. And, as noble as it is, Zaun is bigger than you and your ragtag family, kid.” With those words spoken, Violet's eyes widened, like a realisation just hit her.  He sacrificed Zaun for her and the kids? Was it her fault?  Sevika could see the fight leave Vi's eyes as the child resigned to her own hectic thoughts. Pathetically, her lip began to quiver as she tried to turn away from the older woman. In turn, Sevika just sighed and rolled her eyes. 

“You look like shit. Instead of picking fights, let's get some grub in you.” Gingerly setting Vi down, the smoker then wrapped the cloak she had used to conceal herself around the teen’s small shoulders. Surprisingly enough, she didn't fight. 

“You can come with me if you want. Or you can sit here and cry for the rest of your life.” A mix of firm and gentle in her tone, Sevika turned over her shoulder to look at the child as she spoke. As she said that, Vi gasped quietly and looked up. As the older walked away, Violet quickly scrambled to her feet to follow her.

Traitor. She betrayed Vander. How could you follow her?  Vi admonished herself for being so desperate. 

But she was so alone. She wanted something.]

– SIDE : BLUE –

“Uuuugh– whyyyyy did I pick such a tall ledge to set this stupid thing off from?” Jinx groaned, pulling a nearby tuckered-out Caitlyn behind her. The girl could only have so much energy. Kirraman concurred, agreeing that the height was also ridiculous. But, hey, they were here.

“Hey, almost doesn't look like such a shitshow from up here, huh?” Jinx cracked, chuckling as she nudged Caitlyn. However, the latter seemed to be utterly lost in the view. The smaller girl looked with curious eyes between Caitlyn's utterly inundated expression and the scenery before her. Hah, is this chick seeing something I'm not? Oh well!

Shuffling through her backpack, Jinx unveiled the flare, to which she had added her own name besides Vi’s. Just looking at the thing made a concoction of weird emotions swirl in her chest. Paranoia, excitement, relief, memories. If she looked for long enough, her eyes started to water; her lip started to quiver.

“Jinx, are you alright?” Snapping out of her trance, Caitlyn placed a hand on Powder's shoulder softly. Small hands came to wipe her own tears as she nodded shakily. “It's just scary. What If— what if she doesn't want me anymore.” Powder's voice became small. It was unfair of her to drop something like that on Cait. But something deep within Powder wanted to be reassured, as pathetic as it was.

“Well, if she knows the same Jinx that I do, then she'd be an idiot to not want you.” The enforcer’s words came as genuine as possible, with an affectionate smile across her lips. Peering out from the fists that wiped her eyes, Powder meekly stared up at Caitlyn. The older woman's smile faltered, probably wondering if she messed up. But she didn't. Powder carefully rested her head on the girl's rib cage wrapping her arms taut around her torso. Not that she could see, but she was pretty sure Caitlyn was smiling too; returning the hug. 

“Okay, okay– enough sappy stuff!” Jinx giggled, shaking her head as if to wake up. With Caitlyn watching encouragingly, the escapee’s shaky hands rested on the pull at the bottom. Without thinking, her eyes squeezed shut.

Deep breaths…one…two…

And just like that, soon everything was enveloped in a baby blue haze.

– SIDE : RED –

It had been a while, and Vi was getting antsy. So much so that she lay in her childhood bed and spent the whole afternoon picking apart why her prior idea was stupid as hell. She needed a backup plan, desperately.

She needed to force it out of the snake.

“Silco!” Vi bellowed, throwing the door to his office open. However, Silco was unphased by this outburst; merely continuing to carefully administer his needle.

“What is it now?” Replied the older man, rather nonchalant in the face of the girl's anger. “Chuck cut you off again—”

Without letting another word slither out of his dirty mouth, VI forcefully clasped one coarse fist around his throat, seizing his needle with the other. Silco spluttered as the brutalizer jerked his head backwards.

“Where's Powder? Don't give me no fuckin’ bullshit,” VI inhaled before sharply jamming the edge into his cheekbone, ”Don't tell me what I want to hear and my hand might slip. Who knows?” VI’s shoulders heaved as she towered over the man, fingers digging deep into the charred skin of his neck. At that moment, VI could see the man doing his best to try and conceal a look of pure terror that was entirely unfamiliar to the girl. 

“Is…your skull as thick as your cape? She's dead and buried—” Silco began to strain through gritted teeth.

“Wrong answer.” VI hummed, in the most matter-of-fact told she could muster amongst such rage. Like an incorrect buzzer, she once again jammed the sharp edge into the snake's scales. This time, just beneath his jaw. He hissed once again, now white knuckling the arms of his chair as the boxer continued to restrain him. 

“What– a surprise. Seeing things again, are we? I told Sevika— Argh! You were- No good.” Oh, how brave. He still had it in him to taunt. VI was growing tired of this. She had always dreamed of killing Silco in a grand and heroic way. Unfortunately, her… material desires always got in the way. 

But now, nothing mattered more to her than finding her baby sister. Not shimmer, fighting, alcohol or even Sevika. If Silco wasn't going to give her what she wanted once again, there was really no reason for her to stick around. Lifting the to-be weapon high above his head, VI's shadowed face loomed over the man. It's now or ne—

Suddenly, like a predator to prey, violet-red eyes darted to the window before the two. Her grip loosened, not out of mercy, as her attention fell to something that made her heart skip several beats. A blue, thick smoke, rose over the buildings in the distance. It was hard to make out, but she saw it nonetheless. It couldn't be anything else. It had to be.

She found the flare.

The older sister's face visibly softened, the light returning to her eyes. Her mouth resigned from clenched teeth to softly parted lips. Brows lifting to a soft shock. 

What are you doing? GO TO HER

Was all the kick in the ass VI needed. She stumbled away from Silco's desk and out of the office, barrelling down the hallway and tossing aside any poor innocent soul in her path.

Pow-pow, your big sister is coming. I promise.

– SIDE : BLUE –

“Vi… you have to come.” Powder whispered to herself. Arm outstretched, resting on her toes. Anything to make herself bigger. Anything to make it so Vi won't have a single chance to miss her. The entire time, big eyes looked to the dispersing smoke, trembling and threatening to fill with tears.

shehastosee

shehastosee

shehastosee

The child's arm began to ache as her hold on the flare wavered. It's okay, it'd take some time. She will come. Powder's throat became dry, her vision blurring. She will come. Caitlyn was looking at the girl pitifully. It didn't matter. She will come. She said she would. 

PAT PAT PAT PAT

Footsteps? Powder almost threw her head off with how quickly she spun around. She finally came—

Oh… How thoroughly her heart broke upon seeing the numerous figures approaching her and Caitlyn from behind. Random, shimmered-up goons - probably Silco’s - with an array of weapons. They were here for a fight. But that didn't matter to Jinx. They weren't Vi.

The flare ran out.  

Shivering, the convict stared at the now empty flare, her face entirely unreadable.

She's not coming.

She's not coming.  

“Jinx? JINX, GET DOWN!” Caitlyn was yelling, but everything was muffled. Drowning. Like she was drowning. It wasn't until one assailant was inches from her face that her eyes finally latched away from the item. In the heat of the moment, Jinx slid Zapper over to Caitlyn. Then, she yanked Pow-Pow up onto her hip, pointed it to the attacker's chest and…

POW! 

It didn't matter now.

BANG!

Nothing mattered now. 

Barrels of the gun spun in a colourful blaze. It was almost cathartic. 

5 years locked away.

BANG

5 fucking years.

POW! POW POW!

“whY DID YOU LEAVE ME!”

– SIDE : FADED RED –

[“Stop eating like a pig.” Sevika scolded.

Violet greedily scoffed down the plate of fish in front of her regardless. She hadn't eaten in weeks. Like hell did she give a fuck about table manners right now? 

In the midst of her gobbling down her first meal in ages, she noticed the older woman slide a pile of cards over to her. Without swallowing, Vi tried to inquire what they were - whilst still trying to sound intimidating. 

“First, swallow your food, shithead. Second, they're cards. You wanna eat like this again? Gotta earn money somehow. God knows I'm not your piggy bank.” Sevika hummed, shuffling through her own deck of cards. “Gambling is the quickest way.” She added. Vi frowned, filling through the cards with her sticky hands. Seriously? This was so lame.

“If something as fucking stupid as this could make you rich, I'd be a billionaire already.” Vi sassily retorted, making it clear she was interested. Sevika held an irritated glare for a moment, rolling her eyes at Vi's defiance.

“Baby's first cuss word, huh? Anyhow, unless you got a better idea for getting money, ante up.” The older woman quickly shut her down, insisting she pick up the deck. But Vi was anything if not rebellious. Besides, just because she fed her didn't mean Vi had to listen to shit she had to say. Still, did Violet have a better idea? Chewing her lip, the teenager was quiet for a second. One could hear the gears in her brain turning until a figurative light bulb lit up over her head.

“I'll just pitfight. Boom. They get money off of the bets people make on them, right?” The girl proudly slammed her fist on the table, then leaned back on her chair with a smug look on her face. Sevika probably felt so st—

She was laughing.

Roaring with the stuff. Vi snapped back up into her chair, cheeks turning red as the people around the table started chuckling too.

“You got spunk. But the people in that ring are about damn near ten times your size. And you won't have those fancy gloves to save you in there.” Vi's eyes widened at the mention of Vander's gauntlets. How dare she even THINK about anything to do with him? Fury bubbling under her skin once more, Vi practically lunged over the table at Sevika, knocking her to the ground.

Everyone went silent. Including the older woman. For some reason, Violet didn't make another move. Not a punch or anything. Maybe she had been frozen by Sevika’s icy glare, like in those fairy tales. 

“You pickin’ a fight, brat?”

– SIDE : FADED BROWN –

[What a drag.

‘Train the little ankle biter’, he said. ‘She’ll be a good asset’, he said. Just another way for Sevika to get stuck doing the big man’s dirty work. Now, she was a few gold coins short and carrying around the world’s ugliest accessory - a teenage slumrat. Thank god it wasn’t a long walk, considering they were in the Last Drop when the idiot thought it’d be smart to try and get the jump on her. 

Silco let her keep the old bedroom. The bastard was getting soft, and now Sevika was saddled with unnecessary tasks. If he grew weak, like Vander… She didn’t want to think about the mess that would ensue…. 

The kid wasn’t asleep. Just silent from mortification after getting a public ass-whooping. If you could even call it that. It didn’t take much for the muscular forty-year-old something woman to knock down the malnourished fifteen-year-old. Thankfully, the kid didn’t spontaneously combust upon Sevika entering the room. She was too damn old for a babysitting gig. Finally able to take a break, Sevika tossed the kid onto the bottom bed whilst taking the opportunity to rest her legs… And have a smoke. But lord knows there’s no rest for the wicked. Just as she pulled out her lighter, she felt something soft hit her. Oh, Janna help her, she was just about done with this kid’s shit-

“I thought he would’ve had this place torn down.” Muttered a now uncharacteristically small voice. Vi’s shaggy haircut now worked to conceal her face. Sevika internally grimaced as she realised why. She was crying. Even though she held her head down and pretended to be occupied by some odd metal contraption, it was obvious. Goddamnit. Always the kids like this, too. Not like she was speaking from experience or anything. Well, it probably wouldn’t be age-appropriate to give this child consolation while smoking. Reluctantly, she stamped the light out, getting up to slump onto the floor, beside the base of the bed, with her arm resting on a raised knee.

“Sil…” Sevika paused for a moment, thinking of a better way to approach, “I think you have potential. You think we do this because we’re power-hungry, but it’s nothing like that. In the same way that, to you, your family comes before anything, to us, that’s Zaun.” Silver eyes inconspicuously peered up at the young girl on the bed. Was it working? If she knew she was doing an after-school special, she’d had written a damn script or something.

“...You can be a part of it. The faster we get independence, the faster we can get to cleaning up all this mess. The more people we can save too. Just gotta break a few eggs to make an omelette. Ain’t pretty, but no way is. Better to die fighting than to die compliant. That’s what I say.” Huh, who was Sevika trying to convince? The kid who she swore this was going into one ear and out the other or herself? Who knows. After a bit longer of uncomfortable silence, Sevika let out an exasperated sigh, preparing to get up and let sleeping dogs lie. That was, until, Violet’s body jerked, grabbing at her right shoulder.

“Stay.” The kid’s voice was so quiet you’d have thought she lost it. But her eyes. Those powder eyes held conviction. So much so that merely holding eye contact with the kid felt exhausting. This was her life now, huh? Grumpily, Sevika swatted the kid’s hand away, walking back to the desk she had originally perched on. Violet looked at her with a mix of anticipation and sadness. In turn, the older woman intentionally drew out the silence between them. Just to get her back for the stunt at the bar. Eventually, she exhaled.

“Fine. But I am smoking. You can sleep in the hallway if you got an issue.”]

– SIDE : INDIGO –

Jinx? 

What was happening…? 

Caitlyn looked at the gun from Jinx in her hands, then to Jinx. She knew the girl was in jail. She was sure it had hardened her. But never did she expect to ever see a young girl kill with such ferocity in an unnervingly upbeat manner.

She was laughing. Cackling, she lunged at enemies with a gun that was half her size. Resigning to use the weapon as a way to induce blunt force trauma when she couldn't reach her targets with bullets. Not once letting go of the trigger. If you saw her, you'd think she was insane. 

But she was crying. Clear as day, you could see her tears incessantly pouring down in spite of her crude laughter.

Caitlyn wanted to tell her to stop. Before she reached a height of violence that she couldn't come back from. But what place did she have to say such a thing? It scared her. But how scared was Jinx to have become this? To refuse to pull any punches. To fire ten extra confirmation bullets.

Throwing caution to the wind, Caitlyn ran in to stand with her back against Jinx's. If she was there to merely immobilise their opponents, the weight of killing them wouldn't weigh as heavy on the girl. Yes, that was how she'd help. Even though the decorated pistol wasn't exactly her preference, she was still Piltover's finest. Anything would do. 

Steeling her resolve, Caitlyn lined the gun up to her eye level, identifying weak points to stop their attackers in their tracks. Legs and knees, mainly. Maybe she was imagining it, but she could've sworn she heard the carnage from Jinx’s side lessen, ever so slightly. Maybe it was just wishful thinking. Regardless, it was no constellation that these low-level lackeys were nothing for the pair of them. Honestly, she should've almost felt offended they sent such inexperienced—

WACK!

Huh?

Did she get— kicked in the jaw? The enforcer could feel her vision darken as she tumbled to the ground. Jinx- where was Jinx? The last sight she could make out against the darkness of her eyelids shutting was…

An owl mask?  

– SIDE : ??? –

A mysterious figure - in an owl mask - towered over the two girls’ unconscious bodies. Tenderly, his hand reached down to lift the crude mask from the lighter-haired one’s face. Upon doing so, he felt his breath catch in his throat, mouth drying up. It couldn’t be, could it? Instinctively, his hand then softly brushed the cerulean fringe away from her pale face. Something pricked at his eyes.

“Boss! What are we doing with them? I think one used to be an enforcer?” A fellow voice called out, snapping the figure out of their shocked trance. He sat with the question for a second. Enforcer? Why on earth…

“Take them back to base. And be careful with them.” Her. He meant ‘ be careful with her ’, truly unable to care less about what happened with the enforcer. The group around him nodded, though somewhat confused. Nonetheless, they obliged, leaving the boy to ponder,

Can dead girls come back to life?

– SIDE : RED –

VI was never the fastest runner. That was more of Mylo’s thing. She took it as a prideful thing, though. A sign that she never ran away from anything. Most of the time. So even the boxer herself was surprised at how fast her legs carried her. Like lava was in the soles of her shoes. Her chest tightened so badly that she thought her heart would pop. Purple blurred her vision, VI’s eyes practically glistening in the dark lanes of Zaun as shimmer swam in her blood. 

Powder, I’m coming- I’m gonna save you Pow-Pow. I promise. 

[“Take care of Powder”]

I will, I promise I will.

How long had it been since VI had cried like this? Not out of frustration but rather because her heart swelled with so much hope that her body couldn’t physically constrain it. She was almost there. Almost there - clearing the peak of the ledge — 

“POWDER, I’M- … here?” 

What was this.

Why were there so many bodies here? 

Where was Powder?

Vision blurring even further, VI frantically searched across all the bodies, checking desperately for even the faintest sign of her. She had to be here? Did she fucking hallucinate the flare? No- No fucking way. The boxer swore she was losing her mind, grabbing fistfuls of her hair and striking her temples. NONONONONONONO

Clang!

VI’s head swung around instantaneously to what was seemingly the sound of metal clicking around. And there it was. One of the many near corpses on the ground was holding it. He was holding the fucking flare. 

You’re kidding me.

The pathetic vermin must’ve seen VI’s face morph from panic to pure ire, shimmer illuminating her veins with a terrifying hue because he began wriggling on the ground, trying to escape her gaze. They stared at each other in stifling silence for what felt like hours. Wordlessly, VI stepped closer and closer to the scum before her. “I- I just found th-this— “ It tried to blubber a defence in its fear-stricken state.

SNAP

Waste of time. Waste of her fucking time. All of them. 

VI wiped her bloody boot on the clothes upon the now disembodied torso of whoever’s neck she just severed. This was too much. VI exhaled shakily, hands sliding down her face. 

She wanted to hurt.

Chapter Text

– SIDE : BLUE –

Jinx felt light. Ropes bound her body - just tight enough to restrain, not to bruise. Her feet dangled in the air. She had been tied up - what a cruel twist of fate. Thin strands of light peeked through the weaves of the obvious rucksack over her head. 

“Jinx? Jinx—! Are you there!?” A familiar voice panickily rang out from behind. Caitlyn's. Looks like she got tied up in this too. Hah, she'd laugh if she didn't feel like all the energy had been seeped from her skin, never to be returned. All the escapee could do was hang her head solemnly. 

Vi was gone. 

Not even the sound of heavy footsteps nearing closer made her perk her head up.

Vi was gone. 

Or her being picked up and taken away, as Caitlyn frantically calls out for her.

Vi was gone.  

Or even the rustling of fabric as the sack was peeled from her head. The girl couldn’t even muster a snappy comeback about the coward behind the owl mask, standing face-to-face with her. “If you’re gonna kill me, make it quick,” Soft and lacking conviction were her mumbled words. Briefly, she craned her neck as much as she could to see Kirraman in the corner of her eye. “...And release her, too. She’s not a part of this.” Jinx muttered. This couldn’t be someone who’s working with Silco. They both would’ve been dead by now. There’s that at least. 

“Tch. Defending an enforcer. What happened to you?” The masked man scoffed before her. Uhm, excuse me? Jinx’s eyebrow raised at the statement, followed by a sneer of her lip.

“Do I know you, Buster?” She hissed. 

“I dunno, do you?” He spat back, with just as much venom. Oh, this guy had some nerve.

“Alright, buddy. You wanna talk crazy? Untie me and we can duke it out: right here, right now. ‘Lest we oughta swap that owl mask with a chicken one instead.” Jinx’s head swayed side to side as if to punctuate every word. There was no verbal response to this. Just the masked kidnapper turning away and shaking his head. Then, he reached for his mask, painstakingly slow. Suddenly, it was suffocating. This guy knew her - who the hell could it be? 

It was coming off.

Almost there…

Holy shit.

Ekko!

For a moment, time stood still. The air between them felt electric, heavy with their shared disbelief. Jinx’s eyes widened, shimmering with recognition yet blinking with hesitation. It was Ekko; he was different. His face bore a marked symbol over the bridge of his nose, like an hourglass, but his eyes- they were the same. Once a gaze that made her chest swell in warmth, now scanning her face like he was looking for the pieces of someone he used to know.

“Ekko…?” she whispered, her voice breaking on the second syllable.

“It’s been a while, Jinx,” he finally managed, his voice raw. Hearing her name from his lips brought a flash of something unreadable across her face— relief, anger, reluctance. The convict didn’t know what to do. Who to trust. Her restrained hands twitched at her sides as if a reminder of the predicament the boy had her in. And then, as if a light switch flicked on, her face steeled once again.

“So. You graduated from selling trinkets to kidnapping girls? I always thought you were mad, but this is different.” Snarkily commented the escapee with a defiant tilt of her chin. Ekko merely scoffed, pacing the floor with his hands on his hips. 

“You workin' for Silco?” He interrogated, getting inches away from Jinx’s face, possibly in an attempt to intimidate her. Jinx responded with an incredulous look, eyes briefly snapping up and down to search for any hint of a joke in his words. Nope! He’s that dumb. Too baffled and offended to dignify his suspicions with a verbal reply, Jinx did the only thing she could. Craning her neck forward, Jinx bit the tip of Ekko’s nose, causing the boy to flail backwards.  Cradling the tip of his nose, he stared at the convict in disbelief.

“Don’t ever ask me something so stupid again!” Jinx’s face squished as she stared at Ekko in vexation. But her fight settled down as the two stood in silence a while more.

“Why were you calling for VI?” Ekko mumbled.

“Uhhh… ‘cuz she’s my sister? DUH! You got amnesia, or something, little man?” The escape threw her head back playfully, missing the ever-so-slight wince in Ekko’s body at her words. Again, silence. Jinx was gonna get antsy…

“I thought you were gone,” Ekko finally admitted. “I thought- after everything- thought you were dead.” the words tumbling out faster now, raw and unfiltered. His voice cracked, and he gazed into Powder’s eyes with the most sincere look she’d ever seen. “Where… were you?” He was sniffling at this point, eyelids lined with glossy tears. 

Ah, she couldn’t stay mad at him. A soft acceptance crept itself up onto Powder’s face. 

RIIIIIP

Powder tore the rope around her wrists; lunging onto Ekko and pulling him into a tight hug – limber legs wrapping around his back. After a few confused gasps from little man, he relented and embraced her back - nuzzling himself into her shoulder. He was warm. She missed that. 

– SIDE : INDIGO –

Oh crap! Oh crap! Oh no!

Caitlyn was panicking. Where was Jinx? Was she just being silent? Was this one of Silco's traps? The enforcer felt sick, an endless barrage of questions rushing through her mind. 

Then, the heave of a heavy door opening caused her head to snap around (as much as it could, of course). General murmurs of a conversation sounded, but there was nothing that Caitlyn could make out. Then, footsteps neared closer to her, her heart slowly pounding in sync; then skipping a beat as the sack was yanked off her face. Once adjusted to the light, her eyes caught a full glimpse of their masked kidnappers. Setting aside her fear, Caitlyn immediately resigned to plead her case.

“Listen- Whatever you do, just don't do anything rash! And- that girl, she's a child, don't hurt her. I-I'm the enforcer, I'm the one you want. It's my fault she's here, so please don't hurt her—”

“Yeah, you heard her. I’m a child, ya know?” 

…What.

“Jinx!?” Caitlyn shouted, seeing the masked figures part to reveal the blue-haired menace leaning against the entrance, next to a boy who was crouching.

“That’s me!” She cheerfully responded, giving a faux bow for extra flare. All Caitlyn could do was stare with her mouth agape. She had spent at least the last thirty minutes on the cold floor, terrified for Jinx’s fate. And then the little brat just shows up out of nowhere like nothing happened!?

“Uhm… Caitie? It’s okay! It was just a-” Without letting her get another word in, Caitlyn flew off the handle.

“ARE YOU CRAZY!? DO YOU KNOW HOW BLOODY SCARED I WAS FOR YOU!? I THOUGHT THEY HURT YOU! MATTER OF FACT, YOU BETTER WISH THEY DID OR, I SWEAR TO GOD, YOU’LL HAVE ME TO WORRY ABOUT.” 

The enforcer continued like this for a good ten more minutes.

– SIDE : WHITE –

Ekko’s head was spinning.

Seeing Powder again, it made his heart rattle against his ribs. His once stern looks were replaced by ones of yearning – entirely foreign to himself and those now closest to him. God, she had changed. Her hair was long – really damn long. She’d grown into her round cheeks, still soft, but more firm. And her eyes were punctuated by her ever-shining baby blue irises, yet highlighted by deep, dark circles beneath her eyelids.

The two were perched on the top branch of the tree, the pinkies of their hands ever so slightly brushing one another. Powder looked enamoured with the view, eyes sparkling familiarly and a small smile tugging at bitten lips.

“Holy crap, you really made all this?” She intrigued, swivelling her head and meeting Ekko’s gaze. Caught off guard, the boy jolted, feigning a few coughs as a distraction to his flusteredness. “N-Not alone. It’s cool, though, right?” Smooth recovery, little man.

“The coolest. But, I mean, who else but the mad genius himself to build something this amazing? Or, at least, to spearhead it.” With a giggle, Powder brought up her index and middle finger to her forehead, then wiggled them. It made Ekko chuckle too. The two gazed over the sanctuary for a few moments more, Ekko merely drinking up the look of pure amazement in his childhood friend’s eyes. That was until his curiosity could no longer be suppressed.

“So… are you ready to tell me where you’ve been hiding?” The boy gently breached the question, titling his head cautiously. At first, Powder’s eyes squinted, and her lip raised in a small sneer. Then, she relaxed slightly, chewing her nails in thought. Then, she relented with an exhale,

“Stillwater.”

“Still- what!? L-Like, the prison?” Ekko spluttered. Unbeknownst to him, Powder somehow found his reaction extremely hilarious – to the point where she almost doubled over and fell off the branch in bursts of laughter.

“No, Stillwater the restaurant! Of course, it was the prison, silly! What, you didn’t think this cute face could do hard time?” Powder teasingly rested her head on the boy’s shoulders, grinning wildly. As much as Ekko would’ve loved to reciprocate the feelings. Yet, he couldn’t help but feel a sinking in his heart. That same forced smile, those deflecting laughs. He can’t imagine what horrors Powder endured, but he sure as hell could recognise that façade of hers. Even if her time away had perfected it into a fine art.

“Anywhoooo, enough about how awesome I am. Where’s everybody else?” Powder turned back to the view, this time with her hands mimicking a telescope. Everybody else?

“Uhm, you mean the rest of the firelights?” Ekko questioned. Powder responded with an unimpressed look.

“Nu uh, dummy! I mean where’s the rest of the family? Ya’know, Violet, Vander, Mylo, Claggor? Wait, did you guys plan me a surprise reunion? Oh- let me pretend to forget!” Powder swatted Ekko away playfully before excitedly covering her eyes. On the other hand, the little man could only stare at her with a look of horrible realisation.

Oh. She doesn’t know.

– SIDE : RED –

How stupid could she be, to think he’d let it be that easy for her? To think, for even a second, the ones who were why she lost Powder in the first place could be trusted to not interfere with her plans to reunite. Sevika and Silco were dead to her. If they truly wanted to keep VI from her sister, they could die where they stood.

Luckily, it didn’t have to come to that yet. There was still one last card up her sleeve.

Marcus.

The enforcer that Silco had always kept on a tight leash. She was assured that he had something to do with Powder’s whereabouts for the past five years. Even if he didn’t, he was going to help VI find her, whether he liked it or not. Which is precisely why she was laid on the floor of his living room right now. All that was left was for him to-.

Creeeaaak

Speak of the devil.  As the door opened, VI pushed herself up onto her elbows. Marcus opened the door, laughing and smiling – which made VI sick. But what really caught her eye was the small girl by his side. This bastard had a daughter? Who’s bad idea was that? Still, it wasn’t entirely untrue to say seeing the small face startled VI a bit. Though, clearly not as much as VI’s startled Marcus. VI could almost laugh at how he looked like a deer caught in headlights when he finally saw her. She was sure he’d piss himself if it weren’t for the kid.

“Sweetie, go to your room… Daddy and a friend of his are gonna… have a chat.”

Damn right, we are.

– SIDE : BLUE –

“Way to leave a girl in suspense, mister…”

Powder was being led down the tree by her hand. Her heart brimmed with excitement. Oh, how long it’d been. And how far she had come. Now, everyone could finally be a family again. Caitlyn could be the awkward sister-in-law. But, who’s sister-in-law? Come to think of it, she and Vi were pretty close in age, right? Hah, Vi totally wouldn’t date a girl like Caitie though… No offence, Caitie.

Thoughts and daydreams of her then and now family congregating were interrupted by Ekko announcing they were ‘here’. Looking around, Jinx laid eyes upon the base of the tree, eyes caught by the mirage of colours. It was some sort of mural. Painted faces. Some she knew well, dear to her heart. Others, not so much. But she could tell that each person here was loved dearly.

“Hah, this is beautiful. I always knew you were gonna be an artist one day.” Powder’s fingers gingerly brushed over the art piece, contently admiring it. However, something rather blue caught her eye.

“Haha, hey, why am I on here? Was that a last-minute addition or something?” Power tried to come off as light-hearted, but something tensed in her body. Hesitantly, her head turned to face Ekko. He wasn’t smiling. Wasn’t abashed at her praise of his work. His head was hung. From what she could make of his face, he looked solemn. Suddenly, her chest tightened. Why did he look so sad?

“We… thought you were dead… This mural is how… we pay respect.”

And just like that, it was as if all the air had left her lungs. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t cry, couldn’t scream. All she could do was stare blankly at her childhood companion. Just barely, her lip quivered, watery eyes looking back to the graveyard before her eyes.

Dead? Everyone here is…?

She couldn’t cry. Everything bubbled so tightly in her throat that she thought she’d choke. She wanted to vomit it all out. Expel this agonising feeling from her soul forever. And just like that, she gave out. Her legs no longer could hold the crushing weight of her broken heart. Jinx fell in on herself. Ekko swooped to hold her in his arms. He saved her. But she didn’t feel saved. She felt as if she was dying.

She wished she were dying.  

– SIDE : RED –

VI gave the man the grace of getting his daughter settled down in her room whilst she waited on the carpet. During the time in between, VI couldn’t help but enviously eye the numerous toys the child had. Maybe I should take one for Powder. Nah, she’s probably too old for this stuff.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Marcus entered back into the room, whisper-shouting at VI as soon as he did.

“Let me put this simply. I know Powder’s alive. And if you don’t take me to her.” VI crept very close to Marcus’ face, tilting her head towards the bedroom of the little girl to punctuate the point.

“Or I’ll have to reciprocate the favour to that kid of yours.”  VI’s tone was low, her usually bright eyes glistened even more sinisterly with the threat. Marcus looked lost for words. Like he was desperate to call her bluff. To refute her in any way shape or form. But he couldn’t. They both knew this. VI closed in further, backing Marcus against both literally and figuratively. No response. Did he think silence was an option? How naïve.

One swift punch in the gut.

Marcus choked, doubling over VI’s fist. Unphased, the boxer grabbed his neck, hoisting him up on the wall.

“Shall I do to you enforcer’s what you always do to us?”  She whispered into his ear. Desperately, he clawed and slapped at the fist around his neck. It only tightened at the resistance, drawing tears to his eyelids.

“F-Fine! Fine! God just…” Marcus begged. Raising an eyebrow, VI graciously lessened the ferocity of her grip - just a small bit, so that he could speak.

“P-Powder is alive. I’ll find her just… P-Please don’t hurt her.” In a pathetic sobbing mess, Marcus declared his assistance. That’s all VI cared about. With a shrug, she fully relinquished her hold, strolling away half-heartedly. Maybe a few years earlier, her brutality would weigh on her conscious. But nothing came before Powder.  

Even a few dead children.

Chapter Text

 – SIDE : BLUE –

Powder hadn’t moved for what felt like an eternity. Her body lay anchored to the tattered mattress Ekko had offered as if gravity itself conspired to keep her down. Every breath she took seemed heavier than the last, her chest rising and falling in quiet torment. All she could think about was the moment her heart shattered—the realisation that changed everything.

Caitlyn sat beside her, a quiet presence, her hand occasionally brushing Powder’s arm in an attempt at comfort. Though her gaze remained distant, Powder could feel Ekko’s silent watchfulness from somewhere across the room. After what felt like ages, she finally summoned the strength to speak, her voice barely more than a rasp.

 “H…how did they die?” Her words hung in the air, trembling under their weight. An uneasy silence followed, thick and oppressive. Then, from the far corner of the room, Ekko’s voice came, low and reluctant.

“Silco killed them.”

The answer hit her like a punch to the chest. Powder’s hand instinctively clenched over her heart as a storm of emotions surged through her—hatred, shame, self-loathing. The weight of it was suffocating, pressing down on her so fiercely that she swore her ribs might splinter under the pressure.

“E-Even Vi?” The question slipped from Powder’s lips, fragile and trembling. She wasn’t sure if the words had even been clear, her voice shaking so much that it felt like it might shatter altogether.

The silence that followed was unbearable, stretching endlessly, each second dragging heavier than the last. The pounding of her heart grew deafening, a relentless thrum in her ears accompanied by an ominous buzzing.

“Ekko…” she squeaked, pleading for an answer.

Ekko hesitated. “Powder… She’s not…”

Before he could finish, Powder shot upright. The sudden movement was sharp, her wide, desperate eyes locking onto him with a ferocity that startled even her.

“Ekko.” Her voice was low, the tremor gone, replaced by a chilling sternness. “Is Violet alive or not?”

He sighed, the weight of her question pressing hard on his shoulders. His gaze dropped, teeth tugging at his lower lip as if the right words were hiding somewhere there.

“She’s alive,” he finally admitted, the words heavy with a painful truth. “But she’s not Violet anymore.”

– SIDE : RED –

Returning from what she considered a rather successful daytrip, VI figured she’d treat herself. And by treat herself, she meant demanding more shimmer out of Silco. It had been so long since the last time. The fact that she could even handle a withdrawal for this long was worth celebration, no?

Fucking addict.

Whatever. Going through the motions, VI lethargically shouldered the door to his office open. There he was, back to the wall as always. The boxer didn’t need to introduce herself and, instead, slumped into the chair opposite him, staring restlessly at the ceiling.

“Don’t you have something to say for yourself?” Silco prompted.

“Nope.” VI quickly retorted. This obviously didn’t please the man, turning his chair around just enough to give the girl a glimpse of his vexed glare.

“Attacking Marcus in his own home? Have you gone lunatic? Do you know what mess you’ve caused for me?” The boss’ voice was low but threatening. Damn snitch. She simply shrugged, holding her hand out as if Silco’s words went through one side and out the other. Which they mostly did.

“You need to get this fantasy out of your head, Violet- “

“Don’t fucking call me that.”

“Powder is dead. I’d hate for a similar fate to befall you too.” A thinly veiled threat, disguised as a lovely show of concern. He made her sick. She didn’t have the energy to argue, either. After murmuring a vague reply that somewhat resembled compliance, the snake huffed and accepted it – pressing the vial of shimmer into her hands. VI was quick to get up and turn on her heel, but Silco gripped on her arm before she could leave.

“I mean it. Don’t make me do something we’ll both regret.”

A voice that was always something between sinister and sincere. VI could never get a grip on what the hell he was thinking. Or on what the hell she was to him. If she had been any other worker, she was sure he’d have her assassinated or worse, tortured. She’s seen it before. So, why not now? Was she too strong to lose? Did he see in her what he once saw in Vander?

It didn’t matter. She had shimmer to shoot.

And a traitor to find.

– SIDE : INDIGO –

Caitlyn felt like a fly on the wall, observing a conversation she most likely had no place in. However, it wasn’t as if she was going to not listen. From what she could gather, Jinx’s (or Powder, as the boy calls her?) sister is alive, which is great! But she apparently works for Silco, which is not great. Though, no matter the warnings from Ekko, Jinx’s mind seems resolute on finding and subsequently saving her sister. Which was an undeniably heartwarming scene. Despite her composed exterior, a gnawing pit of uncertainty churned in the Enforcer’s stomach. 

Still, she stood quietly, giving the young Zaunites space to exchange their farewells. Whilst most certainly not eavesdropping, she couldn’t help but overhear their parting words.

“Powder… you can’t change her,” Ekko warned one last time.

“Silco’s the one who changed her. All I have to do is bring her back,” Jinx replied with unwavering confidence.

“If you die... I’ll kill you,” Ekko muttered with a resigned sigh, prompting a chuckle from Jinx. They shared one last hug before Jinx spun on her heel toward Caitlyn.

“Enjoy your little eavesdrop session?” the younger girl teased. Whilst she must've found it funny, Ekko was clearly not fond of her presence - she gauged from his glare.

Caught off guard, Kiramman stumbled over her words, desperately trying— and failing— to deny the accusation. Jinx just shook her head with a knowing grin and nodded toward the path ahead.

“Alright, toots. Let’s go. We’ve got a long road ahead.”

…

Some unfamiliar green creatures hovered over the woman. With eyes full of awe, the Enforcer couldn’t help but keep gazing at them every so often. “What are these?” Caitlyn murmured in intrigue, steadily raising her hand as an offering for one to perch upon. None did. Jinx squinted, hand on her chin as if she were trying to remember.

“Uhm… It’s like a… Oooh! Firelights! Yeah, that’s what they’re called.” The girl snapped her fingers in a eureka moment, as the Enforcer nodded knowingly - her mouth making a small ‘o’ shape. Ambience filled the rest of their journey, the squeaking of their boots rhythmically pacing to the sound of the firelights’ wings batting.

“Soooo… Did ya always wanna be a blue belly when you grew up?” Jinx hummed, head leaning back to peer at Caitlyn.

“... I always wanted to help people. Ever since I was young.” Caitlyn curtly replied, trying to ignore the charged undertones of the nickname.

“Hm. Kinda contradictory, ain’t it?” Jinx quickly retorted. The Enforcer stopped in her tracks.

“Alright. I understand you have… complicated feelings towards Enforcers. But we aren’t all bad. The ones who took you away from your family - they’re despicable. But most of us do care!” Kiramman desperately defended her stance. She was sure she was right. It had to be a few bad apples. Yet, her heart ached - like it wanted to instinctively refute her own words. Jinx kept her back to the older of the two, making her feelings indiscernible to her. 

“Then, where were ‘most of you’ when they killed my mom and pop?” Jinx’s voice fell low, shaking with uneven breaths. 

Oh God. Caitlyn's heart sank, Jinx's words slamming her like a ton of bricks to the gut, leaving her momentarily speechless. She took a shaky breath, her mind racing for the right words, though she knew none could truly suffice. 

"I'm sorry," Caitlyn whispered, her voice soft but laden with sincerity. Jinx slowly turned to face her, eyes flashing with a brief mix of anger and pain before rolling them in exasperation. 

"You really don’t know anything, do ya, toots?" Jinx chided, her tone now lighter, a sharp contrast to her earlier confession. Caitlyn wasn’t sure how to interpret the shift but chose not to dwell on her own ignorance, especially not whilst the younger woman strutted off with confidence. They continued their walk in relative silence, though the tension had noticeably thickened. 

"This bridge is so damn long... We should be getting to the end by now—" Jinx's complaint was cut short as a sudden burst of intense lights blinded them. Both cursed and shielded their eyes, struggling to adjust to the blinding glare. Who on earth was putting on a show right here, of all places? After blinking profusely, Caitlyn could finally see the blurry figures before her.

“Marcus?”

– SIDE : GREEN –

Maybe he should’ve lied.

At least, then, she would’ve stayed. She’d be safe, with him. But Ekko couldn’t lie to her. How dearly he wished he could’ve spoken some sense into her and made her see who VI really is now. All he could do now was wallow in his own teen angst and hope that she’d come find him when she realised he was right. It shouldn’t take that long.

“Captain!” A fellow Firelight’s voice called out, making Ekko perk his head up. It was Eve, and she looked frantic. Equally concerned, the captain asked her what was wrong. 

“There’s been sightings of Enforcers - and they’re headed for the bridge!” She panickily spat out. Eyes widening, Ekko quickly realised what that meant. Without another word having to be uttered, he picked himself up from his pile of grovelling and began to race to the weapons base.

“Man the fort. I’ll handle this.”

– SIDE : BLUE –

Jinx couldn’t move. As if her body had been solidified in ice, she stood frozen before the Enforcer. Only her chest moved, and even that was just to heave in time with her shallow breaths.

It was him. The man who locked her up. The man who took her away from Violet. The man who made her endure those five years of pure and utter torture. Jinx could feel bile rising in her throat, threatening to spill if she reminisced on those awful memories for even a second longer.

“Marcus? What on earth are you doing here?” Caitlyn approached him like it was nothing. Like he was a friend. Jinx wanted to scream, to warn her, but her throat dried. All she could manage was a small squeak.

“What are you doing here?” Marcus interrogated.

“I- I’m… I’m on a mission! It’s none of your business!” Caitlyn indignantly responded.

“...You’ve been working with a criminal.” He retorted, his voice low. A few emotions cycled through the female Enforcer; shock, hesitation and determination. 

“You’ve got it wrong! She’s just a child. There’s been a mistake.” Kiramman gave her best defence, but Marcus wasn’t taking it. Almost as if, no matter what she had said, he didn’t intend on hearing her out. For a while, they continued in the pointless back and forth - like they were two rivals discussing a mere difference in opinion.

That was until Marcus' eyes met Jinx’s. Rapidly, his face went from aggravation to looking like a deer caught in headlights. Funny, and here Jinx thought she was the one who was supposed to be afraid. Subsequently, the male Enforcer swallowed thickly before looking solemnly at Caitlyn. Suddenly, he reached for his belt, whipping out a pistol as quickly as he could. The Kiramman gasped, stumbling backwards as her eyes darted from the barrel of the gun to Marcus’ face.

“C-Caitlyn Kiramman. You're under arrest for c-conspiring with a criminal.” Voice and body alike shook as he aimed the weapon at Caitlyn. All the while, she stood in tremors, baffled and bewildered at how one of her own could turn on her so easily. Thoughts spinning inside her head in a whirlwind of confusion and fear. 

But Jinx? Jinx's mind was eerily still now - like a monitor flatlining. Fears and buried memories merged into a singular purpose. When everything clicked, her hand shot to her belt, quickly grabbing Zapper. Yanking the weapon by the grip, twisting between her fingers; lining the muzzle to Marcus with her finger on the trigger. The last thought stilled in her mind preparatory to releasing.

Not again.

BANG!

With an echoing thud, Marcus’ body collapsed, blood pooling around his punctured head.

“You killed him…” Caitlyn uttered. Her eyes, wide, shifting over to the sight of Jinx.

“Before he could kill you.” The convict finished. The Enforcer had no response to that. All she could muster was to wrap her arms around herself in an act of self-soothing. Jinx reached for Kiramman with urgency clawing at her movements; the words poised on her lips. A desperate plea to flee before it was too late. But the world felt the need to prove her words before even spoken into existence.

A bullet tore past, its searing heat grazing Jinx’s cheek, the sting snapping her head to the side. She stumbled, blood beading on her skin, her wide eyes flickering with a mixture of shock and fury.

“Shit—Jinx!” Caitlyn’s scream was raw, filled with terror as she surged forward, her instincts overriding the paralysis that had held her moments before. She reached for Jinx, ready to drag her to safety. But before she could close the distance, a blur of motion cut through the space between them, a shadow moving with deadly speed. The force of it sent Caitlyn reeling, her balance shattered as she fought to steady herself, her heart pounding with the sudden chaos. Reeling, Jinx brushed her hair aside to get a clear glance at the new arrival.

“Ekko?!” She gasped in bewilderment. Peering over his shoulder, the boy gave Jinx a faux look of annoyance and replied, “Didn’t I say I’d kill you if you died, dummy?”

And somehow, like a spell had been cast on her, Jinx could feel the tension that plagued her body slowly melting away. With a newfound determination, she sprung onto her feet and threw her arm backwards in direction.

“Caitie, head back to the other side of the bridge. Me and the boy saviour got these guys.” Jinx spoke with a proud smile, gesturing with a nod to Ekko. Kiramman looked hesitant, eyes darting between the two. But after looking at Jinx’s self-assured face, she supposed she had no choice but to put faith into her.

“Don’t get yourself killed, alright!” She asked – demanded.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Piltie!” Jinx waved her off, her gaze lingering just a bit longer. Not because she cared, or whatever. She just couldn’t trust the idiot to not trip over her own feet and fall off the side of the bridge… or something. With footsteps getting nearer, Jinx… Powder spun around, looking at Ekko expectantly.

“Powder. You remember the game we used to play when we were small?” Ekko hummed, digging into his pocket for something. Game? They used to play lots of games. He’d have to be a little more specific-

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Oh, that game. How could she ever forget it. With a knowing grin, Powder stood back-to-back with little man, listening carefully to the stopwatch.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Tick. Tick. Tick-

“Dance, fuckers!” Jinx shrieked; her eyes gleaming with maniacal glee as she held Zapper’s trigger tight. Streaks lit up the dull bridge, crashing into the barrage of Enforcers approaching. Meanwhile, Ekko was darting and weaving between the entourage, his bat cracking against one of the Officer’s ribs, sending the soldier crashing to the ground. In one fluid motion, he leapt into the air, spinning his weapon to deflect an incoming net.

“Stay focused, Powder!” Ekko shouted as he stepped back beside Powder, his voice a mix of urgency and determination. She rolled her eyes, strolling across the bridge in a sing-songy manner, imagining the blast of her bullets as drums to the beat.

“You’re just scared I’ll beat you like I always did when we were kids!” Teased Jinx. Raising an eyebrow, Ekko smirked, clearly amused.

“I don’t remember that. Guess you’ll have to remind me!” Ekko chuckled, pushing off on his foot, back into the battle. Jinx licked her lips, already scheming her next move. Ekko seized the moment, dashing through the disoriented guards. His bat struck like a whip, each hit precise, each move calculated. Jinx, meanwhile, revelled in the chaos, firing off another barrage of bullets, the bridge illuminated by her relentless onslaught. Her maniacal laughter mingled with the enforcers’ shouts, creating a cacophony that only Jinx could manifest.

The enforcers regrouped, their energy shields shimmering as they formed a defensive line. It pushed Ekko back, his face quickly souring. But it was of no object to Powder,

 “What’s a human wall to my monkey bomb? Watch out, Ekko!” the mechanic declared, pulling out a grenade from her belt. The boy saviour obliged, sliding on his ankles to race back to Powder’s side. Once he was out of range, the grenade eagerly left Jinx’s hands. Gleefully, she watched as it landed amidst the enforcers, the ensuing blast shattering their formation – and their skulls. As the dust settled, the enforcers lay scattered, their defeat marked the bodies on the floor. Ekko was both stunned and impressed. Powder always said she’d make her monkey bombs work one day, but this…

Little man’s train of thought flew all the way off the rails once he turned to his side and saw Powder doubled over, clutching her sides. What the hell happened – did she get shot!? Frantically, Ekko knelt beside her, fussing over whatever possible injury she had. The poor boy was so caught up in his worry that he hadn’t even noticed the sly grin that her hair concealed. Swiping her thumb on the floor, she picked up some pink pigment, swiping it across Ekko’s chest with a quickness. In his adorable confusion, she flashed Ekko a satisfied smile.

“See? Told I’d win again.” Boasted Powder.

Confusion present on his face, Ekko peered down to see the pink colouring on his chest. Oh, just like when they were kids, alright. With a sigh of relief, he rolled his eyes, but a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Never took you for a cheat.” He reprimanded, pretending to be annoyed.

“It’s not cheating when I do it!” Powder reminded which finally made the two burst into giggles, laying on the floor in laughter and exhaustion. So engulfed in their bliss, they hadn’t noticed the rather large shadow approaching.

– SIDE : RED –

VI hated coming to the bridge. Why the hell would Marcus and his squad even be up there, anyways? VI was going to just turn around and deal with it another day. But the sudden shake and far sounding explosion irked her soul. Like she was being taunted.

And so, she was nearly there. Walking these steps felt like reliving that day. Desperately did her mind try to bury those memories. If it weren’t for her recent dose of shimmer, she’d probably be collapsing in on herself.

As she reached the far edge of the bridge, she was immediately greeted with the sight of many an Enforcer laying dead on the ground. Firelights’ work? Looking up, she expected to see an empty path ahead. No one who just committed such a big crime would stay at the scene. Yet, she saw another two bodies. Ones that definitely weren’t dead.

One that was Ekko’s for sure. Without his mask? And another she didn’t recognise. Squinting her eyes, VI was so caught up in figuring out what was happening that she didn’t think to be discreet with her spying. Expectedly, she was caught off guard when the two finally sat up. But not for that reason.

“…Powder?”

Chapter Text

– SIDE : PURPLE – 

VI stood beneath the awning by the edge of the crumbling bridge, her heart pounding as her eyes frantically scanned the dim alley ahead. Were her eyes deceiving her? Had her mind conjured another illusion in her shimmered-up state. But when their eyes met, VI knew in her heart it was true. 

It was all there. Her wild blue hair, though longer. Eyes that were as bright and big as the day she had last seen them, even if circled by darkness. And, even if just for a moment, the world seemed to pause. Zaun fell silent. It was just them—two sisters, standing on opposite sides of a chasm they had never meant to fall into.

…

Everything was perfect, lying beside Ekko. Yet, for some reason, Jinx felt her fingers twitching with nervous energy. There was a sudden shift in the air, it felt heavier. Like something was pulling her heart in a direction she couldn’t ignore. Pulling herself up off the floor, her head lifted and was met with a sight that made her freeze. Something her eyes couldn’t believe, no matter how much she told them to.

There, standing before the far side of the bridge, was her big sister. Her Violet.

Time may have tolled on her, but Powder would recognise her face amongst a crowd of millions. A round face that exuded all the goodness in her heart, contrasted to her defiant posture in an attempt to make her look untouchable. Even scarred, Vi looked as soft as ever to Powder. 

She couldn’t breathe: the words physically caught in her throat. All her mind could do was race with a thousand memories from what felt like aeons ago. The laughter they used to share, the promises whispered in the dark, the way Vi used to protect her from the world. She didn’t have to protect her anymore.

"Vi?" Powder hesitantly called out in a trembling voice - terrified that the figure before her would wisp away if she acknowledged it.

But it didn’t. 

Instead, it got closer. She got closer.

"Pow-pow," Vi’s voice trembled, each syllable cracking under the unbearable weight of emotions too long suppressed. It was raw, fractured, and fragile—almost a relief to Powder, as though Vi’s voice mirrored the ache within her own heart. The silence between them stretched, thick and suffocating, until Vi spoke again, her words trembling with agony.

"It's me... I’m Vi." Her voice carried a depth of sorrow and yearning that made each word tremble. With painstaking slowness, Vi knelt, her movements hesitant, as if afraid that one wrong move would shatter the moment. Her fingers reached out, tentative and trembling, brushing softly against Powder’s cheek. The touch was warm, too warm, and Powder recoiled for an instant, memories of darkness flooding back, threatening to drown her. But the warmth spread, a beacon in the cold storm of her mind, and she leaned into it, seeking solace.

Vi’s eyes darted frantically; disbelief etched deep into her every feature. She searched for answers, for confirmation, the memories of their shared past flickering like an ember across her face. Each second stretched painfully, disbelief giving way to a heartwarming recognition that softened her hardened edges.

"Big sis..." Jinx’s voice, broken and barely a whisper, carried the haunting echo of the little girl Vi once knew. The confident mask that had become Jinx's armour was gone, revealing the vulnerability of Powder beneath. The distance between them was almost nonexistent now, the air charged with unspoken words and emotions too vast to contain. Rain poured around them, mingling with tears that streaked down Vi’s face, indistinguishable from the raindrops. Her expression, caught between shock and joy, transformed into something almost unrecognisable—a disbelieving joy.

"You’re here. You’re really here." Vi’s whisper barely broke through the rain. But it reached Powder, making her lip quiver and defences crumble. Before Vi stood Powder, the sister who had once clung to her with innocent trust, the sister Vi thought she had lost forever. In response, Powder weakly nodded, throwing herself into the embrace of the older girl. Vi equally wrapped her large arms around the Powder in a strong yet comfortable grip, cradling the sobbing girl’s head on her shoulder. Her thumb made circles around Powder’s head, whispering hushed reassurances into her ear. Nothing else existed. 

Nothing else mattered. 

CLINK. CLINK. CLINK.

Vi's bliss shattered like glass, the sharp sound of approaching footsteps slicing through the fragile moment. Her eyes shot up, wide and alert, her grip on Powder tightening instinctively as if holding on for dear life. A surge of protectiveness surged through her, a desperate need to shield her sister from whatever threat loomed in the shadows. Jinx, however, broke free from Vi’s grasp with a wild, reckless grin, her movements swift and erratic. Without a troubled thought in her mind, she bounced toward Caitlyn, leaving Vi in a whirlwind of emotions—fear, rage, and desperate helplessness that clawed at her throat.

"Caitie, it's my sister! We found her! Look, look!" The younger girl’s voice was a torrent of excitement, her energy a whirlwind as she darted around Kirraman in jubilant circles. Her eyes sparkled with a wild, desperate joy, as though she'd been waiting her entire life for this moment. But the weight of the revelation struck Kirraman differently- her face a tangled mess of distrust and confusion, her mind racing to catch up with the chaos unravelling before her.

Vi, however, stood frozen, her gaze locked onto the woman before her with a glare that could cut through steel. Her eyes burned with a venomous malice, a fire stoked by years of pain and betrayal. It was as if all the warmth in Vi’s heart had been ripped away, stolen the moment Powder slipped from her grasp, and now, here she was— carefree, parading around as if nothing had happened. 

[“She’s been seen with an older girl with dark, blue hair. Apparently, she’s an Enforcer…”]

With an Enforcer, of all people. She didn’t want it to be true when Chuck told her. But here they were. Something deep twisted within VI, a storm of fury and sorrow churning inside her, threatening to consume her whole. Every muscle in her body tensed, her fists clenched at her sides, trembling as she fought to keep the wave of emotions from crashing onto shore. But her hatred was palpable, radiating from her in waves that could drown the world around her.

"Powder, what are you doing with her?" VI’s voice dropped to a dangerous low, her eyes darkening as she stood, the tension in the air thick and suffocating. Powder felt the shift, her body stiffening as she turned to face VI, an unreadable expression masking her emotions.

"Vi— This is Caitlyn. She helped me—" Powder’s voice wavered, her words hesitant.

"An Enforcer? Are you kidding me?" VI’s attempt to restrain her voice was failing, the fury burning in her throat pushing its way to the surface. Each word was laced with betrayal and disbelief. Caitlyn’s brows knitted, sensing the palpable tension crackling between the sisters.

Jinx’s face crumpled with shame, her eyes dropping to the ground, avoiding VI’s fiery gaze. Caitlyn, biting the inside of her lip, inhaled deeply and stepped forward, trying to defuse the growing debacle.

"If you’re mad that she came with an Enforcer, be mad at me. I made her take me," Caitlyn defended, her voice steady but her eyes wary.

"Shut up. You aren’t a part of this." VI’s words hissed through clenched teeth, her anger flaring like a live wire. Jinx’s eyes widened, her body instinctively curling in on itself in fear. The sight of Powder hugging herself tightly, trembling, pierced through VI’s rage. She inhaled sharply, the fire in her chest dimming as guilt took its place. She stepped back, her hand pressed against her forehead in frustration.

"It’s not your fault. You’re just a kid. I should’ve never left you alone," VI murmured, her voice heavy with regret. Jinx’s head snapped up, defiance sparking in her eyes, her lip curling.

"I’m not a child! I can look after myself!" she retorted, the desperation in her voice betraying her need for validation.

"You got yourself mixed up with an Enforcer," VI grumbled, her tone softening but the frustration still lingering.

"And I made it back to you, didn’t I?" Jinx shot back, her voice firm, challenging, as if daring VI to deny her once more. All VI could do was shake her head, restating her rhetoric of Powder not being ready. Jinx’s breaths became heavier, stuck between wanting to cry and wanting to scream.

Why couldn’t she believe in me? Why did she always view me as a burden? I can look after myself, that’s what I’ve been doing for the past five years! Gears whirred in her head, searching for a way to prove herself. And then, her eyes lit up.

“I saved you,” Jinx mumbled.

VI’s head turned slowly, cautiously, her face etched with confusion, her eyes searching, almost pleading for more, unsure of what Powder meant.

“I saved you,” Jinx’s voice cracked, her words spilling out in a rush. “When that… monster was attacking you! I blew it up with my monkey bomb.”

The bridge fell into a suffocating silence. Caitlyn stood frozen, her confusion leaving her speechless. Ekko's eyes darkened, the weight of grim understanding settling heavily on his shoulders.

But VI? VI felt everything at once, too much, too fast. Her heart pounded violently against her ribs, each beat a drum of unbearable pain and fury. Her body trembled uncontrollably, a brew of rage roiling within her, threatening to break free at any moment. She clenched her fists so tightly that her knuckles turned white, trying in vain to contain the volcanic eruption of emotion that was ready to consume her whole. 

“That was you?” VI whispered, her eyes no longer meeting Powder’s. It had to be some sick joke. A misunderstanding. Or maybe even a mishearing. Anything but what was just said being the truth.

Jinx froze, unsure how to respond. Whatever reaction she had braced for, it wasn’t this cold distance. In her daze, she barely registered Ekko tugging at her arm, trying to pull her away. But she couldn’t tear her eyes from VI, silently pleading for her sister to meet her gaze, to offer some semblance of reassurance. Instead, VI turned away, running her hands through her pink hair, her voice low and tense.

"Tell me that wasn’t you."

The words cut through Jinx like a blade. What was Vi talking about? Why was she acting like this? Panic welled up inside her, any trace of boldness draining away. Her fingers fidgeted nervously as she stared at the ground, her entire body trembling under the weight of VI’s silence. It felt like her nerves were on fire, every twitch an unbearable reminder of the chasm growing between them.

She couldn’t take it anymore. The pounding of her heart echoed in her ears, threatening to drown her in its deafening rhythm. Desperation overtook her. "Please, please, Vi! Don’t ignore me— I can’t do this! Tell me— tell me what I did wrong! Please!" Her voice cracked as she latched onto Vi’s back, clinging to her as though letting go would mean losing her forever.

She sniffled and sobbed, her fingers weakly clawing at VI’s jacket. Her pleas were met with cold, detached murmurs. "Get off me.", "Go away." Each word was another dagger, slicing through her fragile hope. But Jinx couldn’t let go— how could she? She had just found her sister again.

Her cries escalated into heart-wrenching screams, her forehead pressed against the nape of Vi’s neck as she bellowed, her voice raw and helpless, breaking under the weight of her own anguish.

“VIOLET, PLEASE-“

“YOU KILLED THEM!”

VI spun around swiftly, her fist flying before she could even think, connecting with Powder’s nose in a brutal strike.

Before her mind could fully register what had happened, Powder’s body was already sprawled across the asphalt. Her face was eerily blank, the sharp sting of pain radiating from her now crooked nose. Blood trickled steadily down her pale lips and chin, staining the ground beneath her. Frozen in place, Jinx didn’t move- whether from shock, fear, or sheer inability to process what to do next, she remained motionless. Even as Ekko and Caitlyn rushed to her side, even as she glimpsed the flash of instant regret in Vi’s eyes, Jinx stayed still. Her mind emptied, grasping at thoughts that slipped away, leaving her stranded in a void of confusion and disbelief.

"Powder?"

Vi's voice trembled, her breath hitching as the weight of what she had done crashed over her. "Pow-Pow, oh my God, I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean to—" Her words broke, panic lacing every syllable. She scrambled to her feet, desperation driving her to reach out. But before she could, Caitlyn stepped between them, her glare piercing, a shield against Vi’s rising chaos.

"I don’t care who you are to her. I won’t let you put your hands on her again," Caitlyn declared, her voice low and steady, but her teeth clenched in barely restrained fury. VI’s jaw tightened, her anger flickering dangerously as she considered tossing the Enforcer off the bridge and ending the interference once and for all. Her body coiled, ready to strike.

But before VI could make a move, Jinx darted forward, slamming into VI’s torso with all the force of her desperation, knocking her onto her back. Vi braced herself for a fight, expecting Powder to lash out, to finally retaliate. And she wouldn’t have blamed her. Nor would she have fought back, not this time.

But instead, Powder clung to her, trembling, burying her face into Vi’s stomach. She held on tightly, her small frame wracked with soft, broken sobs.

"I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry," she whimpered, each word a fragile plea. "Please don’t leave me. I love you. I’m sorry."

Vi’s heart shattered, the rage and shimmer activated within her dissolving into a sea of guilt and sorrow as she cradled her sister, their pain entwining in the cold, unforgiving rain.

“I’m… I’m so sorry, Pow-Pow. I p-promise, I won’t leave you.” Lethargically, Vi scooped the small girl up into her arms and stood back to her feet. Her eyes wandered to the two bystanders. Her face softened at Ekko but hardened for the Enforcer.

“If you two know what’s good for you, you’ll leave. Never look for us again.” VI muttered, tightly cradling Powder over her shoulder. Ekko’s eyes widened as VI began to walk off with the girl. He had to do something- He had to stop her! Yet, before either of them had resolved to so much as take a step forward,

Vi and Jinx had disappeared.

– SIDE : BROWN  – 

Sevika sat alone in the shadows of Vander’s rickety statue, her jaw clenched and eyes burning with frustration. The dull hum of Zaun's nightlife buzzed around her, but it barely registered. Slamming her cybernetic fist onto the knee of the recreation of her former partner.

"Damn it, VI," she growled under her breath. The idea of the brat rushing off to find Powder, was infuriating. How many times would VI risk everything for the walking corpse of a girl? How many times would she abandon her place in the creation of the new Zaun, all to chase a ghost of the past?

Sevika's mind whirled with anger. She understood loyalty, but this? This was madness. The girl was useless anyhow, a literal bomb that only brought destruction in her wake. And yet, VI couldn’t let go. Every time she chose Powder over reason, over everything else. It felt like a slap in the face to all Sevika had risked for the damn brat— a reckless gamble with a life VI couldn’t afford to lose. Especially not against Silco.

What made it worse was that Sevika knew that no amount of rage could change VI’s mind once it was set. And that infuriated her even more. She tried to tell herself that she shouldn’t care. That she should cut the kid like the dead weight she was. Would certainly make her life a lot easier. And Sevika had never been interested in making her goals harder than needed.

So, why couldn’t she? Why couldn’t she just fucking wipe her hands and be done with it? Why wouldn’t her heart let her?

“Hah… And here I thought you were weak. How damn ironic.” Sevika mumbled, pouring the rest of her cup out by Vander’s feet before tossing it aside. Then, she lumbered herself up off the ledge with a sigh.

You can’t put a leash on a wild dog.

– SIDE : RED  – 

Stumbling down the rickety old steps to the basement of The Last Drop, VI clutched a now sleeping Powder in her arms tightly. Once at the bottom, she heeled over in a fit of exhaustion; heavy breaths pouring from her throat. VI hadn’t been a runner in a long time, never had she felt so compelled to trek through the drug-ridden streets of Zaun in such a hasty manner. All she could do was pray that she didn’t bring too much attention to herself.

Brushing her paranoia aside, the boxer lethargically hobbled over to Powder’s old bed, carefully laying her slumbering body on the mattress; softly tucking her in. Like when they were younger. Smaller, and happier.

God, VI would give anything to freeze this moment in time. Anything to ensure her baby sister could hold onto that peaceful expression. Anything to keep her hand resting gently on Powder’s tear-streaked cheeks, silently promising that she would always be her big sister.

As VI tenderly rubbed Powder's face, her fingers grazed over the dried blood on her nose. Instinctively, she recoiled, a chord of guilt striking on her heartstrings.

So stupid… How could I ever hurt you like that? VI scathingly scolded herself. Once she had revoked her touch, the older sister turned to sit on the edge of the bed. Feeling relaxed, for the first time in her life. Within the confines of this room, nothing mattered. She didn’t have to worry about Silco or his stupid errands. Sevika or her stupid plans to create a symbol for Zaun.

But it wouldn’t last long.

VI knew, better than anyone, Silco’s wrath wasn’t to be toyed with. Consequences would soon wash up like a crashing wave, drowning her and everything she cared about in the aftermath. With a heavy sigh, VI yanked herself up, giving one last bittersweet glance to her blissfully unaware sister.

“I’ll be back, Pow-Pow. Sweet dreams.” She murmured, pressing a brief peck to the girl’s forehead.

Oh, how long it had been since she could find a genuine smile to on face. One born from compassion and devotion instead of malice and sadism. Even if it quickly disappeared as she turned on her heel to face back to the door at the height of the stairs.

– SIDE : INDIGO  – 

Caitlyn's breath came in sharp, uneven gasps as she paced the dimly lit bridge, her mind racing in a whirlwind of panic and uncertainty. The moment VI had taken Jinx, Caitlyn felt the fragile balance she had been clinging to crumble beneath her. She should’ve done something! Sister or not, how could she have let that… monster take her? Leaning against the cold brick wall, the weight of her dilemma pressed heavily on her chest. Her duty to Piltover, her city, was clear. She was an enforcer, sworn to protect and serve. Was she to pack up, return, and report to her superiors? To act as if none of this happened, all to stay on the right side of the law? Perhaps, if she asked herself what to do a few days earlier, the answer would’ve been clear.

But then Jinx came along. Just like her namesake. Wild, unpredictable Jinx, who was so much more than just a criminal to Caitlyn now. She was a troubled soul caught in the storm of the misfortune that was the unfit world surrounding her. The lines of what Kiramman thought she knew to be true and good had been all but blurred during their journey together. Caitlyn squeezed her eyes shut, trying to quell the rising tide of fear that threatened to drown her. The thought of what could happen to Jinx in this VI’s hands gnawed at her insides.

Her pulse quickened as the conflict within her grew louder. She could almost hear the stern voices of her colleagues back in Piltover, reminding her of her responsibilities, the rules she had sworn to follow. But those voices were drowned out by another, quieter one— Jinx’s. Her childlike laugh and giddiness that had sprung to life the closer the two got.

Caitlyn's gaze dropped to her hands, trembling slightly as she clenched them into fists. Could she really walk away now? Could she turn her back on the girl she had come so far with? Jinx… A product of a broken system that Caitlyn was just now seeing the surface of. To leave now, to go back to Piltover and pretend she hadn’t seen the cracks in the foundation, felt like a betrayal—not just to Jinx, but to the part of Caitlyn that longed to make a real difference.

[“What are you shooting for, young Kiramman?”]

With a deep, steadying breath, Caitlyn pushed off the wall and straightened her shoulders. She knew what she had to do. Turning her back on Piltover, even if just for now, was a risk she was willing to take. Jinx needed saving, and Caitlyn couldn’t abandon her to face it alone.

– SIDE : BLUE  – 

Jinx stirred, the haze of sleep gradually lifting as her eyes fluttered open to the dim glow of her bedroom. When her vision settled, was greeted by a vaguely familiar scene. A bed, walls and warmth she once knew. For a fleeting moment, there was a sense of calm, a rare quiet in the storm that was her mind. But as she sat up, rubbing her eyes, the room felt different, emptier, colder.

As if she was acting autonomously, her gaze flicked to the bed above her, VI’s old bed – now conspicuously vacant. Jinx's breath hitched, her heart skipping a beat. "Vi?" she called out, her voice trembling slightly, a hint of desperation creeping in. No answer. The silence pressed in around her, suffocating and heavy. She threw off the tangled blankets and stumbled to her feet, frantically scanning the room.

"Vi!" she shouted, louder this time, the panic rising like a tidal wave. She rushed to the door, trying to yank it open to find that it was locked.

Her mind raced, flashing back to countless moments of torturous isolation, each one cutting deeper than the last. Vi had promised. She had promised to stay, to protect her, to never leave again.

But she was gone.

The realization hit Jinx like a sledgehammer to the chest. Her legs gave way, and she sank to the floor, her back against the wall as she clutched at her head. A low, keening wail escaped her lips, growing louder, and more fractured as it echoed through the empty space. Tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision as her breath came in ragged, shallow bursts.

Rocking back and forth, Powder desperately tried to block out the memories that surged to the forefront— the times when she was all alone, in that dark and dingy cell. The times when she’d cry for Violet until her throat bled, just for no one to respond. Her fingers dug into her scalp, the pain a dull throb against the storm raging within. "She left... she left…" she whispered, the words like poison on her tongue.

The room seemed to close in around her, the chaos now a reflection of the turmoil inside her mind. Her hands shook uncontrollably as she reached for one of her bombs, clutching it tightly to her chest as if it could somehow hold her together. She couldn’t breathe, the space became too tight.

It wasn’t long until the floodgates opened. The sobs came hard and fast, wracking her small frame as she crumbled further into herself. The walls of her bedroom felt like a prison, the silence amplifying every fear, every moment of loss. "Why?" she choked out, her voice cracking under the weight of her anguish. "I can’t lose her again! Please, why am I always alone!?"

Her mind spiralled deeper into the abyss of her insecurities and abandonment. The confident, ex-con who survived in Stillwater was still just a useless child, lost in the shadows of her own pain, desperately clinging to the hope that maybe, just maybe, she’d get her happy ending for once. But the silence, as always, offered no answers.

Alas, one could only be sad for so long.

Soon, Jinx felt her unbearable grief manifest into unthinkable anger; teeth digging so deep into her lips that a steady leak of blood ran down her chin again. Fists switching between slamming her temples and then the floor. Jinx was so fucking tired. She couldn’t do it again. She refused to wait in isolation ever again.

Once cognitive enough to, the shaky girl peeled herself off the floor, her eyes bloodshot from tears and mania. Her barely conscious body staggered up to the door, slamming her body into the wooden frame. Over. And over. And over again. Her forehead bruising from the collisions. Breath leaving her lungs. Lucidity leaving her mind. Somewhere between a concussion and a coma, the door finally burst open. The bloodied child set off, in pursuit of her flaky ‘protector’ of a big sis, without anything else she could possibly care for in the world.

– SIDE : RED  – 

The dim light of The Last Drop flickered against the cracked walls, casting shifting shadows that danced with the tension in the air. Sevika sat by the bar, her metallic arm resting heavily on the counter, dark eyes fixed on the door as VI stepped inside, her presence filling the other patrons in the room with a mixture of shock and fear. The hum of low conversations quieted; the bar's usual noise was drowned out by the silent confrontation between the two. The right-hand woman’s eyes narrowed, a deep scowl forming as VI approached.

With a simple whistle and jerk of her head, everyone began to leave the bar on Sevika’s order. It was just her and VI now. Standing in tension.

"You’ve got some nerve coming back here," Sevika growled, her voice low but laced with barely restrained anger. "Silco wants your head. You killed his best spy."

"I had to find her— she’s- she’s my sister. I couldn’t just leave her out there, not like that." VI’s face crinkled with chagrin, her breathing uneven and eyes pleading.

"We all make sacrifices, VI. You’re telling me she’s worth a free, independent Zaun?" Sevika’s scowl deepened, her metal fingers tapping against the counter with a rhythmic clink.

"She’s worth everything. I’d trade Zaun, Piltover and the rest of Runeterra for her." VI’s voice raised with a mix of frustration and desperation. Even in its shakiness, it was clear she meant every word. Sevika took a step forward, her towering figure imposing as she loomed over VI. "You think the people of Zaun can afford your sentimentality? You think Piltover’s gonna wait while you chase after this fantasy of yours? We’ve got bigger battles to fight.”

"What’s the point of a free nation if we don’t have the people we love to share it with?” VI’s jaw clenched, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, yet, her resolve didn’t falter. For a moment, the air between them grew thick, the weight of their words hanging heavily. Sevika’s expression wavered, a flicker of something softer beneath the hardened exterior, but she quickly buried it under her usual steely gaze.

“You’re no different to him,” Sevika mumbled, turning back around to the bar to take a shot. Despite her grumbling, it didn’t exactly sound like an insult. VI edged closer cautiously, her voice dropping to a softer tone.

"I’m asking- No, begging, you for help, Sevika. I can’t do this alone. If I lose her, I lose everything. I just… need you to help me out, please. For old time’s sake?" VI offered her hand out to the older woman, her eyes daring to shine with hope. Sevika studied Vi, the conflict evident in her eyes. The bar was silent.

Slowly, her posture relaxed, though the tension in her face remained. "You’ve got a death wish, VI. Fine. We’ll do it your way, but if this backfires—"

"It won’t," The boxer interjected quickly, a note of gratitude in her voice. "Thank you, Sev. I mean it."

Sevika sighed, shaking her head. "You’d better not cause me any more trouble, brat." Perhaps she turned away because she was simply tired of the conversation. Or, maybe, it was to conceal the small smile on her lips.

Unbeknownst to them, in the shadows that engulfed the far stretch of the room, a pair of wide eyes watched the exchange intently. And they held a fun surprise for the two of them.

– SIDE : BLUE  – 

Jinx crouched low, her heart pounding in her chest as she witnessed the scene unfold. Her breath hitched, and her mind twisted the narrative into something darker.

"Why… Why her and not me?” she whispered to herself, the bitterness lacing her voice. The flicker of hope she had clung to now felt like a cruel joke. In the dim light, her lips curled into a trembling sneer. Her fingers shook as they clutched onto the mask and canister in her hands.

Sevika’s amazing. Big, strong, fearless. A regular old Johnny on the spot. Not like the scrawny, meek Powder. Vi wouldn’t have to feel the strain of looking out for such a burden with her. Of course, Vi would choose her over Powder. Who wouldn’t?

But she wasn’t Powder. She was Jinx. Jinx was strong too. Jinx could protect Vi even if she didn’t know it yet. Jinx was smarter than Sevika too. Could Sevika find a way to syphon knock out gas from Janna knows where? Jinx bet she couldn’t. 

With nimble fingers, the convict dropped the canister of gas quietly onto the floor, so as to not alert the two until it was too late. With the knockout gas rising, she clipped the mask onto her head snugly.

“Sorry, Vi. I just need to borrow you for a second…” Jinx muttered. For some reason,

She really wanted some tea.

Chapter Text

– SIDE : RED – 

“Where the hell am I?”

 The last thing VI could remember was her conversation with Sevika. She was waiting for the older woman to return the handshake. But, before she could, there was some sort of green gas that filled the bar.

And then, she hit the floor like a tonne of bricks.

Now, VI's wrists lay in her lap, chafed against the rough rope binding her to the chair, the wiry fibres biting into her skin with every subtle movement. Her breath came in shallow, ragged gasps, the air was thick with the scent of damp wood and something metallic, sharp and acrid, lingering just out of reach.

A single candle flickered in the centre of a worn table, casting elongated shadows that danced and writhed across the peeling walls. The weak flame barely pierced the suffocating darkness, creating more obscurity than clarity. The boxer's eyes darted around, straining to catch any hint of movement, any sign of who or what might be lurking just beyond the reach of the candle's feeble glow.

She could hear it; the slow, deliberate creak of footsteps circling her. Each step seemed to echo for an eternity, bouncing off the walls in a sinister rhythm that matched the pounding of her heart. Her muscles tensed naturally, veins tight with fear, every nerve screaming for her to flee, but the ropes held firm, unyielding.

Suddenly, the footsteps stopped. The silence that followed pressed down on her with an almost tangible weight. VI’s throat constricted, a bead of sweat trailing down her temple as she strained to listen, to prepare for whatever came next.

"Big sister?"

The stark contrast between such an innocent voice and such a dark scene almost threw VI for a loop. She knew that voice. Suddenly, her head swung around, as much as it could, searching yearningly for the source.

“Powder? Pow-Pow, it’s me! It’s me, I swear!” VI had nearly forgotten about the anxiety of being tied to a chair at a makeshift table. It was an easy slip of the mind when she had something so much more important before her.

After a while, her eyes caught a glimpse of the familiar outline of a long braid. Peering out from a large, stray bolder was the sister who could finally ease her restless heart. VI had so many questions, with ‘Are you okay?’ and ‘Why am I tied up?’ being the most pressing. But before she could part her lips again, it seemed Powder had already spoken.

“Did you miss me?” she asked, her voice low, whispering like the wind threading through dead leaves.

“Of course.” VI could feel her lips tremble, remembering how often she wished she could see her baby sister, just one last time. How many times had she cried in their childhood bed, begging to Janna to bring her back? “Every day without you felt like I was drowning.” She finished, feeling tears of memories and a long-awaited relief pricking at her eyes. Powder didn’t respond. The light that bloomed in the middle of the dim table was burning out. Chest heaving, VI began to search panickily for her little sister again.

And then, it went dark.

Where did she go? Was she leaving? No- No she couldn’t…

“I felt the same. I really wanted to die when they took me from you.”

As the shockingly blunt words filled the air, VI was faced with a flickering ember, followed by a heat close to her chin. Shadows danced on her sister’s face before her, close enough to illuminate all the ways their time apart had aged the small girl. Exhaustion, worry, uncertainty; all of which were deeply engraved into every line and blemish on her frighteningly pale skin. VI loved Powder, no matter what. She was perfect to her. But she couldn’t act as if the sight didn’t make her heart ache.

“What did they do to you?” Was all she could muster to ask, her own voice unsure of whether she was ready to hear the answer. Powder looked away, chewing her lip. As if she was deciding what to do next. With no response, she pulled away from the boxer, tossing the lighter down the rickety table, illuminating the rest of the sight to VI at long last.

– SIDE : ALL – 

The table was a mindless clash of colours, mismatched tea sets strewn across a table draped in disparity with the ivory tablecloth. Sat opposite VI was someone who instantly made her face sour. Caitlyn - or ‘Caitie’ as Powder had dubbed her, much to VI’s contempt. Her hands were also bound to the chairs. Too bad she couldn’t stick a sock in her mouth.

“It’s been so long since we played tea parties,” Powder mumbled, her voice tinged with a nostalgic sorrow as she picked up a chipped, dirty cup, swaying it gently in the air. The dim light caught the cracked porcelain, casting fractured reflections across the room. Caitlyn’s brows knitted together in confusion, her eyes darting between the cup and the chaotic scene before her. She shot a puzzled look at VI, seeking answers in the older woman’s tense posture.

VI met Caitlyn’s gaze with a hard, unyielding glare, the corner of her mouth twitching in disdain. She didn’t need words to convey her contempt; the set of her jaw and the fire in her eyes spoke volumes. Caitlyn, unwilling to back down, returned the glare for a moment before turning her attention back to Jinx.

“Jinx, what is this?” Caitlyn’s voice was cautious, her tone carefully measured as she addressed the teenager. The tension in her shoulders eased slightly, her gaze softening to reach the fragile girl hidden beneath Jinx’s chaotic exterior. VI’s jaw clenched tighter, her teeth grinding audibly.

“Stop calling her that, shit for brains,” she snapped - venom in her words sharp enough to cut. Her eyes narrowed into slits, locked onto Caitlyn with unwavering intensity. Jinx leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table, hands cradling her chin. Her wide, unblinking eyes flicked back and forth between VI and Caitlyn.

“Vi… Caitlyn’s nice. She looked after me,” she said softly, her tone disarmingly gentle, like a child trying to broker peace between quarrelling parents.

But those words, so simple and sincere, sliced through VI’s chest like a kitchen knife. Her breath hitched, the sharp pain of betrayal mingling with her shame. Every syllable felt like a twist of the blade, a reminder of her failure not only to Powder but to… him too.

[“Take care of Powder.”]

If Jinx noticed, she hadn’t made any mention of it. Instead, she hopped onto the table's edge, gently shaking it. Her cheek pressed up against her knuckle as she swung her legs.

“Five years in... Stillwater. It’s hard to go back to normal after that.” Finally spitting it out, the convict refused to lift her gaze from her lap as she spoke. For as casual as she tried to sound, her body stiffened at the mere mention of that God-awful place. VI’s jaw hung slightly open.

Did she hear that right? She couldn’t have.

Fucking Stillwater? They put a baby in STILLWATER.

VI felt volatile, animalistic anger churn in her stomach, her fists clenching at her sides.

"They put you... in Stillwater? You were just a kid. How could they—" She leaned forward, her voice low but trembling with barely contained fury.

Jinx shrugged, a hollow chuckle escaping her lips. “Hah, what, you don’t think I could’ve passed for a 15-year-old back then? Guess they just didn’t care, then.” Her sarcastic words dripped with bitterness. Her breath hitched; hands trembling as she tried to suppress the emotions welling up inside her.

“They should have cared,” Caitlyn murmured, her voice softer than VI’s but no less intense. “You didn’t deserve that.” Jinx finally turned to Caitlyn, cocking her head to the side as she pondered the comment.

“Deserve? Maybe I did. Maybe I was always meant to end up in a place like that. I mean, they hit the nail on the head with the whole ‘Jinx’ name.” Jinx crudely laughed, threading a bandaged hand through her hair.

“No,” VI said firmly, shaking her head. “Fuck them, they’re the Jinx. You’re perfect, Powder. I promise I’ll protect us from anything that tries to hurt us.”

Jinx bit her lip, struggling to keep her composure, but VI saw her melting. She could see it in the quiver of her large blue eyes. Her head was lowered, looking up at VI, furthering the boxer’s urge to just cradle her in her arms. The girl looked as if she wanted to believe those words so badly but was terrified to. Instead, her gaze darted between VI and Caitlyn, as though searching for any sign of insincerity.

And when she couldn’t find any, she felt her mind allow her to relax. For what felt like the first time in forever. Tears brimmed in Powder’s eyes, and, for once, she wasn’t biting them back. She just let them run down her cheeks, plopping onto her lap, silently. A shaky smile even dared to breach her lips.

“I can protect you too, you know…” Jinx breathed out, her voice barely a whisper. “I’m stronger now. Not just dead weight.” A dry laugh slipped through her tears, brittle and hollow.

VI looked like she was about to vehemently object, her lips parting to argue, but she was cut off when Jinx hopped down from the table. The sudden movement caught VI off guard; she hadn’t even realized Jinx’s feet weren’t touching the ground until then.

“That reminds me… We can’t have a tea party without food. I’ll be right back!” Jinx hummed in a sing-song tune, skipping off into the shadows. Despite the light-hearted words, VI couldn’t shake the unease settling in her stomach. Something about the whole situation felt off, and her instincts screamed at her to stay alert.

Caitlyn, meanwhile, seemed mildly perturbed at most. She shifted awkwardly, like someone stuck on an uncomfortable first date rather than in the middle of a tense, unpredictable situation with a volatile young girl.

“Soo... What do you think she made?” Caitlyn attempted to strike up a conversation if only to be civil for Jinx’s sake.

VI shot her a look of utter disgust, her eyes narrowing in disbelief at Caitlyn’s casual approach. The silent message was clear: ‘Don’t talk to me, you fuckin pig’. Or, at least, that’s how the topsider heard it in her head.

“Fine, I’ll guess on my own…” Caitlyn muttered under her breath, leaning back in her chair and defiantly turning her head away. Some people are just never happy.

Minutes dragged on, stretching the already fraught atmosphere. The sound of something clattering in the distance broke the silence. It was the faint sound of footsteps, once again, growing louder as Jinx came back into view. This time, however, the noise was accompanied by another. Something resembling the sound of… wheels? As Jinx was elucidated by the lights, she was revealed to be pushing a wheelchair. 

And the unlucky buddy strapped to it was none other than Sevika. Her face wore a mixture of irritation and suppressed fury. At least, as much as one could tell from her eyes. Since her mouth had been seemingly gagged with a metal plate that had a crude, mocking smile scribbled onto it. Her one good arm was tightly bound to the armrest; the mechanical one dangled uselessly, sparks sputtering from the shoulder blade, where it had been forcibly disconnected. Teasingly just out of her reach.

“A tea party with just three attendees is way too lame. So, why not make it a full house.” Jinx sang, her voice dripping with glee as she wheeled Sevika to the table. The older woman growled low in her throat, but no one could tell what she was saying. Still, her eyes blazing as they met VI’s.

“Powder, what are you doing?” The boxer looked to her mentor with a grim face; partially stunned that her baby sister was capable of such a violent feat and partially nauseous for what was to come next. Jinx's grin, on the other hand, all but faltered. The convict took to twirling around the chair, her hands clasping Sevika’s shoulders with mock affection. 

“Isn’t it great, big sis? We can finally avenge him!” In a twisted display, Jinx spun Zapper in her hands like it were some sort of party ornament. She seemed genuinely happy, presenting the situation like some screwed-up sister bonding moment. VI felt stuck. Beside herself, even. Was this what Powder meant by protecting her? No, she’s got it all wrong. 

Caitlyn, still seated, looked between VI and Jinx, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew things were spiralling out of control, but any move she made could ignite the powder keg. Besides, her own feelings towards the right-hand woman who sat by the centre length of the table were confusing in and of themselves. She did try to kill Jinx. She is working with Silco. No, even this was too much. Punishment shouldn’t be this. Maybe it was all the girl knew. But Caitlyn knew better- and it was her responsibility to ensure better happens.

“Jinx,” Caitlyn tried, her voice gentle but firm, “Sevika isn’t a good person. I know you want to hurt her because she’s hurt you. But this isn’t the way to deal with that.”

Jinx’s eyes flicked to Caitlyn, the wild spark in them dimming for a fraction of a second. Caitlyn couldn’t tell if she was processing her words or was just frustrated at being lectured. Ultimately, her smile faltered, her fingers twitching as she looked between VI and Sevika. The room seemed to hold its breath, the tension so thick it could snap at any moment. 

“Jinx, please,” VI pressed, her voice softening as she tried to reach the girl she once knew. “We can walk away from this. You don’t have to do this.”

“She hurt you… She hurt us. W-Why am I the bad guy?” Her tone was laced with a painful vulnerability, the wounded teenager inside her struggling to understand why she always seemed to be on the wrong side, no matter what she did.

“You’re not! I promise you aren’t. It’s just…” As desperately as she was trying to avoid it, VI locked eyes with Sevika again. A rush of shame and fear swelled in her heart. Jinx was right, Sevika did hurt them. But she had picked VI up when she had nothing left. Of course, it didn’t make sense to Jinx why she’d protect her. But what could VI do? The boxer felt she was trapped in the middle of a bridge - where running to either side would surely make the other collapse. Quickly, Jinx grew annoyed with the flowery sentiments and indecisiveness, her demeanour snapping to that of indignance as she slammed her hands on the table next to Sevika. 

“Since you’re at fault for this, why don’t you tell everyone what you think.” With a grumble, the escapee yanked the metal plate off - which made the gambler cough and splutter for a bit. Once composed, she straightened herself up.

“You wanna know what I think?” Sevika sneered, her voice dripping with venom, eyes narrowing into cold slits.

“Sev- don’t!” VI’s voice cracked, desperation thick in her tone as she lurched forward against her restraints. But the sharp shushing from both Jinx and Sevika silenced her, leaving her frozen in place, heart pounding with dread.

“I think you’re nothing but a damn ball and chain,” Sevika continued, her words cutting deeper with each syllable. “And if you think killing me is gonna protect VI, you’re even dumber than when you blew up your whole family.”

The cruel, jagged words crawled up Jinx’s spine like a swarm of insects, each one burrowing into her brain. A manic smile twisted across her lips, spreading wide and unnatural, her eyes glowing with a dangerous light; tremors manifesting into an eerie hum of energy.

“Last time, I only got your arm…” Jinx whispered, her voice cold and sharp like a blade. “Let’s see if my aim’s better now.”

She moved fluidly, circling behind Sevika, pressing the barrel of her pistol against the older woman’s temple. The cold metal bit into her flesh. Whilst she moved, the convict’s cerulean hair flailed around behind her like a wild halo. The room was pulsing with suffocating tension of unspoken threats and unyielding fear. Every breath drawn a risk, every heartbeat a countdown to catastrophe.

“POWDER- NO!” VI’s voice sliced through the charged air, her eyes wide with panic. “Powder, she’s wrong. You don’t have to prove anything- Don’t listen to her!” With her heart beating so fast it felt as if it were daring to snap her ribs, VI’s eyes teared as she squeezed her eyes shut. 

This is all your fault. What are you gonna do if she shoots her right there? Think, dammit, think.

“Jinx, You’re more than this. We can figure this out, okay? Just... don’t pull that trigger. I know you’re better than this.” Caitlyn’s voice arose like a shining light in the darkness. Whilst she felt the pressure of everything intensifying, her leg bounced as she prayed her words reached the girl.

And it seemed they did. Floundering, Jinx found her eyes darting between her gun and the pleading faces of the girls on either side of the table. It twitched but didn’t pull. Thoughts pummeled through her mind, rendering the girl hopeless to control them. 

[“Blew up your whole family.”]

[“She jinxes every job.”]

[“I know you’re better than this.”]

[“Huh, shall we call yer that, ya damn Jinx?”]

Voices clashed and screamed over one another. The cold metal of the pistol in her hand trembling from the weight of the past crashing down around her. 

…

.. 

.

And then, she wasn’t in the dimly lit room anymore. She was back in the ruins of her old life, standing in the aftermath of the explosion, the echoes of screams and shouts reverberating in her ears. 

From the shadows, Vander’s figure loomed, his face twisted in disappointment and sorrow. “Powder, what have you done?” his voice rumbled, heavy with the weight of lost hope. Where his eyes and mouth should’ve been were now rudimentary scratches and scribbles instead. Like the ones she used to draw. He reached out a hand, but it stopped short. Behind him appeared Mylo and Claggor, the prior’s sneering face contorted in mockery. 

“You always mess things up, don’t you? Always the burden, always the Jinx,” he spat, his words slicing through her like daggers. Claggor’s silent eyes were void of blame but filled with an eerie, broken emptiness. His presence, though quieter, was just as suffocating, a silent reminder of what she had lost, of who she had failed.

And then, towering over them all, were the enforcers from Stillwater. Their uniforms were pristine, their faces cold and unfeeling, just as they had been during those endless nights in the cell. They stood like statues, unmoving, judging her every breath, every choice.

“Shoot her,” Mylo hissed, his voice dripping with venom. “Prove you’re not weak.”

“Don’t listen to them,” Vander’s voice, softer now, pleaded. “This isn’t who you are, Powder.”

“Powder’s dead.” One of the enforcers declared, now smiling maliciously at the girl. “This is Jinx, and Jinx is all grown up.” 

The voices clashed in a cacophony of guilt and anger, each pulling her in a different direction, each demanding something from her. Her grip tightened around the pistol, her knuckles white as her finger hovered over the trigger.

Amid the chaos, VI’s voice cut through, real and grounding. Safe 

“Powder, look at me. I won’t let you go.” 

...

..

.

Powder blinked rapidly, the figures fading in and out of sight as reality struggled to distinguish itself. She glanced at Sevika, still at the mercy of her pistol, then back to the ghosts fading around her, waiting for someone to direct the choice that would define her once again.

But before she could make said choice, Sevika seized the moment.

With a guttural growl, Sevika abandoned her mechanical arm, the damaged joints sparking wildly as she finally managed to tear it off. With her restraints loosened, she twisted in the wheelchair, her flesh arm shooting up and grabbing Jinx by the throat. The sudden force knocked the pistol from Jinx’s hand, sending it skittering across the floor.

“Got you now, you little freak,” Sevika snarled, tightening her grip around Jinx’s neck, her fingers digging in brutally. Powder gasped, her hands clawing at Sevika’s arm, her eyes wide with shock and panic. 

Jinx - Powder? - gasped for air with her legs kicking around in hopelessness as the muscley woman’s grasp tightened around her throat. Her nails raked futilely at the iron grip. Panic flooded her senses. Her breaths became shallow. The gun lay forgotten on the floor, just out of reach, its cold, metallic gleam mocking the teenager.

"STOP! SEV- DON’T YOU DARE!" VI's voice was a raw scream, arms now grating against the ropes that bound her to the chair. She thrashed with all her strength, her eyes wild with fear and fury, her gauntlets far out of reach. “LET HER GO!” Caitlyn, equally bound and frantic, pleaded, her voice trembling but fierce. “Stop that! Put her down!”

Sevika snarled, her gaze locked on Jinx, her grip unrelenting. Jinx’s eyes darted between VI and Caitlyn, their voices cutting through the suffocating haze of fear. Her vision blurred, the edges darkening as she struggled to breathe, her body weakening under Sevika’s vice-like grip. VI’s voice broke, falling into sobs as her head hung low, still crying out for Powder. Sevika hated that damn noise- having heard so much of it when VI was younger. Like a bad song that imprinted itself in her head.

And yet, for a brief moment, something flickered in her eyes. Hesitation, maybe? The words of VI and Caitlyn, filled with genuine fear and compassion, seeped into the cracks of Sevika’s armour, forcing her to confront the reality of her actions. Maybe she didn’t need to kill the brat, per se. Her grip slackened just slightly.

Which was a mistake.

With the momentum she had gathered from wailing around, Jinx swung her legs up to boot Sevika in the chin. With a rather unreasonable speed, she then shot through the disorientated woman’s legs, latching onto the mechanical arm on the floor. Just as the gambler was about to lunge at her, the convict swung the arm around with all her might - knocking Sevika flat on her back. Before she could even attempt to get up, the metal arm collided with her skull again.

And again.

And again.

And again. Until everything finally went black. 

Dazed, Jinx took a few shaky steps back, brushing her hair back with a bloodied hand. No one could speak. It was all so quiet that one could easily hear the airy breaths from the beaten, unconscious woman on the floor. It didn’t exactly help with the less-than-happy atmosphere. Finally gaining the courage to, Powder’s eyes peered to VI. She desperately craved some sort of validation, some praise for the heroic act of chasing away the monster that plagued her life. 

But all she was met with instead was a face of horror. Maybe VI hadn’t realised she looked so incredulous, but Powder had. That was all it took for Powder to crumble in on herself, curling into a ball. She bit onto her finger in nervous habit, drawing blood. 

“I was doing it for you. I only wanted to save you.” Came the small, broken whispers from Powder as she rocked back and forth on her heels. 

VI’s heart shattered as she watched Jinx crumble, her fragile form folding in on itself like a wilting flower. She rocked on her heels, biting down on her finger until blood trickled from the fresh wound. Her eyes, wide and tear-filled, refused to meet VI’s as her broken whispers filled the room, haunting in their softness. She was lost in her own world, rocking back and forth, her fingers digging into her palms, smearing blood from the bite on her finger. Her eyes were glassy, distant, filled with a storm of emotions she couldn’t contain.

“I was doing it for you…” she cried, her voice barely audible over the pounding of VI’s heart. The boxer could only shake her head, too exhausted for anything other than tears to spill down her cheeks. Despite her not saying anything, Jinx’s gaze snapped to the distance, as if she was speaking to someone in the shadows. 

“Prove it? I- I can prove it… I can show her.” Powder mumbled.

“Jinx…?” Caitlyn tried. She was too scared to speak beyond that.  Jinx’s hands trembled as she wiped at her eyes, steadily standing herself up. Her back was still turned to the two, blue wide eyes eerily focused on the distance.

“She was just a small fish. I have to get the big fish…” Came another crazed mumble. 

VI’s stomach dropped. “No, Jinx, don’t—”

But before she could finish, Jinx had thrown herself onto her big sister, cradling her head on her shoulder. Her cheek rested atop her skull, as Violet did for her when they were kids. 

“I’m sorry, Vi. I’m sorry I’m such a burden. I just… I just wanted to be enough.” Jinx rocked the two carefully, her bloodstained fingers intertwining through VI’s murky hair. VI’s breath hitched, the raw sorrow in Jinx’s words cutting her deeper than any blade ever could. “You’re not a burden, Pow-Pow. I love you more than life itself.”

“I have to fix it. I can fix everything.” It was too late. Jinx was already retreating further into herself, mind resolute, her eyes splitting between her sister and some unseen point in the distance. 

“No,” VI’s voice rose, frantic, but Jinx wouldn’t listen, the determination in her eyes growing stronger. She then turned to Caitlyn, her eyes softening slightly. Caitlyn’s own eyes were wide with worry as the girl approached her. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” She tried to sound scolding, but the concern in her voice betrayed her.

“Thank you, Caite. You… you were nice to me. Even when you didn’t have to be. Get back to Piltover safely, kay?” Jinx teasingly admonished, her fingertip pressing against Caitlyn’s nose playfully. Caitlyn, bound and helpless, shook her head. She didn’t return the cheery sentiment at all. Jinx hesitated for a split second turning back to VI, her expression torn between sorrow and resolve. 

“Vi, promise me something.” VI’s heart clenched at the sound of her name. Her voice trembled with a quiet dread that gnawed at her insides. 

“What?” she whispered, bracing herself for the weight of Jinx’s next words.

“Promise me you won’t hurt Caitlyn. No matter what happens… you have to protect her.” Jinx stepped closer, her eyes locking onto VI’s with a look that sent a chill through her. A cold shiver ran down VI’s spine, her breath catching in her throat. 

“Pow, I—” She couldn’t finish. The plea in Powder’s eyes, the quake in her voice. She couldn’t do it.

“Promise me!” Jinx’s voice cracked, her words breaking apart like glass shattering under pressure. A single tear slipped down her cheek as her chest tightened; the request pressing down on her suffocating. It was too much, too heavy to breathe, too heavy to think. Promising felt as if she was agreeing to the fate of letting Powder go But what could she do when the girl was looking at her like that? So trusting. 

Slowly, VI nodded, her voice barely a whisper; the promise itself was too painful to speak clearly. “I promise.”

Jinx’s expression softened, the faintest trace of relief flickering across her face, but the sadness didn’t leave her eyes. 

“Good. That’s good,” she murmured. Then, with a dry chuckle that barely carried any mirth, she added, “You’ll get out of those ropes sooner or later.”

With one last, lingering glance, Jinx turned away, her footsteps hesitant but determined, each one heavier than the last. Her figure retreated into the shadows, reluctant yet unwavering. Jinx didn’t stop. She couldn’t. Even if her heart broke with the screams behind her. She knew it was for the best. 

VI bellowed for the girl with all the voice she had left, each yell feeling like it pulled Powder further away from her. Further away from her sister, the last part of her family. The last person on earth who loved her wholly. She thrashed, begging Powder to stay, but the words fell on deaf ears, the unbearable weight of her helplessness crushing her.

– SIDE : BLACK – 

Silco knew it’d catch him, sooner or later.

The moon hung low over the river, casting its pale silver glow across the churning waters below. Fog rolled in thick and heavy from the streets, swallowing everything in its wake, leaving only the sound of the river’s restless murmur and the distant echo of his own heartbeat. The air was damp and sharp with the smell of earth and wet stone, yet there was something colder tonight. Something heavier. Silco felt it in his bones.

He stood at the river’s edge, his boots sinking slightly into the wet ground as he scanned the dense fog that curled like smoke around him. His eyes, sharp and calculating, searched for any movement, any sign of her- though he already knew. The note she’d left had been simple but cryptic, frantic in a way that made his chest tighten. The handwriting had been erratic and hurried.

Powder.

A chill snaked down his spine. This was a trap. He knew it. She was dead, after all. But even as that truth clawed at the back of his mind, the lingering pull of unfinished business drove him here. He had to put an end to her. VI would never be free of Vander if he didn’t. 

Stepping forward cautiously, his muscles coiled tight; his senses on high alert. His gaze flicked left, and right, his mind running through every possible scenario. He heard a shuffle in the fog, barely audible over the whisper of the river’s movement. His heart clenched.

Then, from the mist, she emerged. Powder.

He had last seen her as an infant. It was expected she’d be different. But even this was… stark. As strong contrast to the tiny, clumsy girl VI had raved about with such adoration and longing in her eyes. No, this was someone else- hardened, relentless, and filled with a dark, unflinching resolve. Her face was set in an expression he couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t just anger. It wasn’t just grief. It was something far colder. Something peculiar. It sent a shiver crawling down his spine.

“Silco,” she spoke his name, and it wasn’t a greeting. It was a verdict. The words were soft, almost drowned by the fog, but they carried a weight that made his throat tauten. Her voice was jagged around the edges, in a manner far beyond needed for any girl her age. Their eyes locked together, silently sizing each other up. They knew what had to happen. Then, she stepped closer, her gaze unwavering, making the back of his neck prickle.

“You changed Vi.” The words hissed from her lips, bitter and venomous like they had been ripped from her throat. “You made her someone else.”

A chill ran down Silco’s spine. He had expected this. He had known it was coming.

“You’re wrong,” he replied, his voice cold, sharp like a blade. “She always had a choice. She chose me. She chose to become something greater than what she was.” His words were steel, and he knew they would cut her, but it wasn’t enough to cease the trembling unease that twisted in his gut.

The look in her eyes shifted, darkened. Her steps grew bolder, and closer, her voice dripping with venom as she snarled, “You killed Vander.”

The words hung in the air like smoke, pulling the warmth from his body. He didn’t flinch, didn’t move, he couldn’t afford to. But the flicker of something human shifted within him. A flash of regret, of guilt. But he swiftly smothered it. He could not afford to let her see it.

“You killed Vander,” Silco spilt back to her, a dangerous finality in his tone, his face still as stone. For a moment, nothing but the river filled the space between them. Silco couldn’t help but watch her closely, studying her every movement, the way her eyes flickered with something darker. His mind raced as he attempted to piece together the puzzle of the girl in front of him, trying to identify his discomfort. Was it from the sight of the broken, vengeful shadow of a girl he was supposed to watch over, centuries ago? Was it because Powder had grown into the culmination of his betrayal to the man he once was? The one that drowned in these very waters?

Eventually, her lips curled into a smile; not of joy or even mockery. Rather, acceptance. Unexpected to the man.

“You’re right. We’re both monsters that ruined Violet’s life.” Her voice dropped to a murmur as if speaking to herself.

And then, without another word, her hand- previously submerged- emerged from the cloudy water, gripping a blade slick with grime. The sharp edge gleamed under the faint moonlight, reflecting the silent rage that pulsed through her veins. She stood there, staring at him with that same cold, relentless gaze, and the words that followed seemed to carve through the air like a death sentence.

“I guess that means we both have to die, huh?”

Chapter Text

– SIDE : BLUE – 

Cold river water lapped at Jinx’s boots, the murky depths swirling around her like a hungry beast. Every muscle in her body tensed, ready to spring. Her fingers tightened around the hilt of her knife. Across from stood Silco, his eyes narrowed into slits of cold steel, mirroring his own blade he had just drawn.

"You just won’t die, will you?" His voice was rasp, dripping with exasperation.

"Not before you, old man," she retorted swiftly, her tone as cold as the night air.

They began to circle each other slowly, each step a calculated measure, testing the other's resolve. His knife glinted in the pale light, its reflection igniting a surge of fury and ice in her veins. Now, it was just the two of them, the river their arena, with no room for the ghosts of the past.

He took Violet. Filled her head with all sorts of stuff. He took advantage of her heart, just like he did Vander.

"I turned her into something greater," he taunted, his words slithering, permeating her thoughts. "Greater than she could’ve ever become if she were stuck watching over you."

That was all the spark she needed to ignite the fire beneath her feet. 

“You wanted her to be a monster. Like you.” Jinx lunged, a flash of silver slicing through the darkness. She was quick, but so was Silco. Their blades met with a sharp, metallic clash, sending a shiver up her spine. He was stronger than he looked, far stronger for someone so lean. But that didn’t matter to her. 

“You took Vander from me. You tried to take VI from me. I won’t let you.” She pulled back just enough to dodge his counterstrike, the knife in her hand an extension of her fury, her need for justice, for revenge. Silco pressed forward, his strikes quick and deadly, each one a whisper of death. Their knives parried sparking in the gloomy backdrop as the river churned around them; the only witness to their deadly dance. He moved with the precision of someone who had fought a thousand battles, each one leaving its mark on his soul. But Jinx fought with the passion of someone who would rather die than lose something precious once again.

"Your belief in Vander is a lie, he wasn’t the man you thought he was. " Silco growled, his voice low and edged with venom. His eyes glinted sharply, a savage intensity in their depths. "Right here, he killed a man. Drowned him. For the crime of trying to change the world for the better!”

Whatever he attempted to do worked, even if just for a moment. Jinx jerked back, her brows furrowing as she studied him, her nose wrinkling in suspicion. For a moment, she said nothing, her head tilting slightly as if trying to parse his words. 

"Even if that’s true," She muttered as she slowly shook her head, a faint, bitter laugh escaping her lips. 

"Then, what the hell does that make what you’re doing now?!" Jinx roared, her blade aimed for his side in a desperate, furious strike that carried all the weight of her aching heart. Silco twisted, narrowly evading the brunt of the blow, but the knife still grazed him. A crimson line bloomed across his side, blood welling and spreading darkly against the fabric of his coat. He winced but barely seemed to notice, his sharp gaze locked onto hers, unwavering even as the pain seared through him. His hand instinctively pressed down to quell the bleeding. Her hands tightened around the knife, knuckles white.

“We are not the same.” Silco heeded, eyes wide, daring the girl to say another word. All for it to be disregarded as Jinx lunged at him again, her movements wild and erratic. The blade whistled through the air. With each swing, Silco would hastily sidestep, duck - swinging his body out of the way. Some cuts landed on him. Some on her. As each threw their blows, Silco briefly noticed how the faint smell of gunpowder clung to her like a second skin, sharp and acrid, like she was birthed in the fire. 

Like the day he found VI. 

Silco would clasp his fists around the girl’s wrists, but she would wrench her arm free and stagger back, clutching the knife tightly as though it were the only thing tethering her to reality. 

“You’re right. Vander fought Enforcers. You fight children.” Jinx smugly spat her words through heavy breaths. Silco looked eerily still, but Jinx could see the tension boil in his pupils. Without the time to utter another insult whilst she recuperated, his hand shot out, grabbing Jinx’s braid. He yanked hard with a grip like iron, forcing her head back, the knife trembling against her throat. The escapee grit her teeth as his knife pressed against her throat, unyielding.

"Like your sister… You just don’t shut up," he whispered, shakily. The convict expected some type of cruel smile to be staring down at her. But, alas, all she was met with was a forlorn look. Poorly masked shame, even. Still, the girl thrashed and twisted violently against her scold. Even when the blade nicked her skin, she didn’t cease. Pain was nothing. Fear was nothing. For once, she could see the light at the end of the tunnel. She wouldn’t let it go dim again.

Eventually, the river's roar seemed to fade, leaving only the harsh sound of their breathing. His eyes bore into hers. Even as his hold tightened, the blade remained still, poised yet unmoving.

"Why do you fight so hard, Powder?" he murmured, his voice quieter, almost sounding genuinely contemplative. "When the person you remembered her to be is clearly long gone." Came his finished thought. For a moment, time stood still, the tension crackling between them like a storm waiting to break.

"Is that what you thought happened with Vander? Is that why you gave up on him?" Jinx’s eyes contracted as she spoke, looking the man up and down as if she were studying him. Silco's jaw tightened at the mention of Vander, clearly striking a nerve, his composure faltering for just a heartbeat. His fingers curled more firmly around Jinx’s braid, his knuckles whitening. The cold edge of his knife pressed just a fraction more against her skin, but it didn’t cut- not yet.

"You know nothing of Vander. He made his choices, and I made mine. I didn’t give up on him. He gave up on us." Silco growled, his voice a low rumble, strained with barely contained anger. 

“Ah, was that it?” Jinx's eyes burned with defiance, saying so little, yet so much. The storm between them intensified, the river around them churning as if it, too, sensed the violence barely restrained. Silco’s hesitation lingered, his knife trembling, the flicker of doubt growing stronger in his features.

“I think you fucked things up. And I think you’re still trying to run from your mistakes.” Jinx’s words were quiet but equally poisonous, “But you wanna know what?” The convict scraped her teeth together, straining as she leaned closer to Silco’s face - with as much leeway as the unrelenting grasp gave.

"Killing me won’t erase your failures. Using my sister as your pawn or seizing control of Zaun won’t change what you are. You’ll always be the same fuck up you were back then. No one else is to blame but you.” A smile softened the girl’s face. Her eyes bore into him with a calm, even understanding reassurance. Which was funny, since it must’ve been anything but. The old man’s mask cracked, his lips curling and his eyes widening with discomfort and indignation.

“Just like me-”

Before she could finish, Silco’s rage exploded. He drove her beneath the surface, his hands pressing her down with all the force he could muster. Water churned violently around them, but Jinx offered no resistance. He expected her to thrash, to fight back, but the water settled, save for the initial splash. Silco’s confusion grew, though he kept his grip relentless, unwilling to loosen it.

It didn’t matter. He couldn’t see it, not in the muddied waters, only dimly lit by the moon. Jinx was reaching for something strapped to her leg. Her fingers found the familiar shape: a crudely painted monkey bomb. Her lips curled in a bittersweet smile. 

It seemed fitting, almost poetic, that Vander and Silco would meet their end by the same creation, at the hands of the same girl. Was that dramatic irony? Vi was always the bookworm. As her lungs screamed for air, Jinx cradled the bomb in her palm, floating in the murky water.

[“I guess that means we both have to die, huh?”]

Time was slipping away. It had to be now. 

With the last reserves of her strength, Jinx thrust her arms upwards, forcing the bomb between their faces. Silco barely had time to register the movement. Her finger found the trigger, and in that split second, any hesitation she might have had drowned right there in those waters. There was no turning back.

“You see, Vi. I can protect you too.”

She pulled the pin.

– SIDE : RED – 

VI hadn’t given up. Still twisting and turning, thrashing and shouting. This was all her fault. She wasn’t about to let Powder slip away- not again. Her breath came in sharp bursts, the room around her dim, the candle’s weakened embers fighting a losing battle against the encroaching darkness. Think, VI, think. She could wait for Sevika to wake up, but how long would that take?

“Damn it, Pow,” she muttered under her breath, defeat invading her heart. She continued to rock herself, creating all the friction she could against the binds. At last, one push too harsh sent her flying backwards, the head of her chair cracking slightly down the middle. Like a Janna-given miracle, VI wiggled herself out of the now somewhat loosened wires in shallow gasps of disbelief. 

She could find Powder. She could save her. Hastily, VI crawled back onto her feet, ready to run like hell.

“Hey- where do you think you’re going!”

…But then, an annoying, odd noise caught her attention.

Reluctantly, VI wrenched her gaze to Caitlyn, who was still slumped in her chair, a few feet away, her hands bound. Not her mouth, unfortunately. She was glaring at VI as if she had caused her a personal offence. 

“What,” VI barked, raising her lip in a sneer.

“What do you mean what!? You can’t leave me here.” Caitlyn demanded. Oh, she had some nerve. Stalking closer, VI placed her hands on the table end before the enforcer, leaning close with a snarl on her lips.

“Who says I can’t, sugar tits?” She hissed, her voice dangerously low. Caitlyn’s eyes briefly looked up and down at VI, her jaw tightening at the insult. She met VI's glare head-on, her calm composure a sharp contrast to the volatile heat radiating off the woman before her.

“You’re the one who started all this. What makes you think seeing you is what she needs right now?” Caitlyn shot back, her voice clipped but firm. 

“And what makes you think she needs some damn blue belly? What are you gonna do, shoot her for being suspicious?” VI spat, her sneer deepening as her fingers curled into fists that she slammed onto the edge of the table. The sound reverberated through the dimly lit room. Caitlyn’s face wrinkled, flinching fleetingly. Whether it was from the table or the stereotype, VI didn’t know. Nor did she care. Still, with eyes narrowed, Kiramman resolved to respond. 

“We’re friends. T-The first one I’ve made in a while. I want to look out for her as much as you do!” Caitlyn protested, her eyes gleaming with a swirl of begging and determination. The boxer’s focus darted to the darkness where Powder had disappeared. Every instinct screamed at her to go after her sister. To stop her before she did something she couldn’t take back. But her gaze drifted back to Caitlyn, who was squirming against her restraints, her eyes pleading now. Dammit, there’s no time for this. Every second spent here was a second Powder was out there alone. 

With a very unhappy grunt, VI dropped to her knees beside Caitlyn; hands fumbling with the knots. Her fingers worked quickly, but her movements were rough, betraying her frustration. Each tug on the ropes was as much about freeing Caitlyn as it was a vent for her own boiling anger and helplessness. She didn’t even glance up as the last knot came undone.

“There. Now, you follow my lead, stay outta my way, and keep the blabbering to a minimum.” She muttered, standing abruptly, as though lingering too long in the moment might make her regret it. She ran a hand through her short hair, trying to steady the hurricane in her mind. Caitlyn flexed her freed wrists, wincing slightly but lifting her head. “Thank you,” she said softly, her voice laced with sincerity.

Vi froze for a split second, her back to Caitlyn. The words stung more than they should have. VI couldn’t pinpoint exactly why, but something about it infuriated her. She huffed, rolling her eyes as she turned halfway toward Caitlyn. “Blabbering. Minimum.” Her tone was attempted to be sharp, but was too tired to be so.

“I don’t want your thanks. I just want my sister safe.” The words spilt out before she could stop them, her voice quieter now. She turned back toward the door, her shoulders tense, her fists clenching and unclenching at her sides. VI swallowed hard, forcing herself to move. As she embarked on her chase, she just prayed she didn’t make the wrong choice.

– SIDE : BLUE– 

Jinx was drowning.

Water filled her lungs as she drifted downward, her existence nothing more than a soft murmur swallowed by the depths. The feeling was oddly nostalgic. Like the day she blew everything up. She remembered feeling like she was flying. It felt similar. Except, she wasn’t flying. She was drowning. Oh yeah.

So this is it, huh? No more Jinx. No more Powder. No more... me.

Vi, you’re free now. I want you to live a good life, okay?

Her lips quiver as bubbles rise from her mouth.

Back then, I thought I saved you. It was the only thing that kept me alive in that dingy cell. I really did want to help. Even if I didn’t. I wanted to. But… This time, I’ll make sure I actually save you. You’re gonna be okay now. You don’t have to carry me anymore. It’s better this way. 

Her fingers curl against the current, weakly resisting.

But, I’m still selfish. I don’t wanna go. I don’t. I wanna go back to being in your arms... More than anything. I want you to read me a bedtime story again. I want Vander to make my favourite drink. I want to dance with Claggor and Mylo. I wanna steal snacks from Benzo’s shop out back with Ekko. I wanna hear Caitie’s bad jokes. I wanna live.

Her eyes flutter shut, tears blending with the water as her voice fades into silence.

But I want you to be happy more than any of that…

So, you better be happy, okay?

– SIDE : RED – 

Things were looking slim. No matter how many goons’ heads she threatened to knock off, conveniently, no one seemed to catch sight of the teenage ex-con with bright pink hair that Silco had just put a bounty on. VI was getting desperate, her body struggling to keep her running. She didn’t know how long she could keep herself up on her legs. Yet, the shimmer pumping in her veins wouldn’t let her take a break to slow down, glistening in her mauve pupils. The sound of Caitlyn’s heels was close behind, along with her own set of huffing and puffing. 

Please… Please…

“Vi—wait! Look at the river!” Caitlyn called, her voice sharp with urgency as she pointed toward the familiar body of water.

Vi’s head snapped up, her gaze following Caitlyn’s outstretched finger. Her heart leapt into her throat as she turned fully, her entire body pivoting to face the river.

There was something there. Her vision blurred with panic, but she could make out the shape of something- or someone. Her legs moved before her mind could catch up, propelling her toward the riverbank. As she got closer, the scene sharpened: debris swirling in the current, the pungent smell of smoke singing their nostrils.

“Powder!” VI’s voice broke as she shouted, hoarse and desperate. “Powder!”

VI followed Caitlyn’s finger, her breath catching in her chest as her eyes landed on a dark figure bobbing in the water. For a gut-wrenching moment, she thought it was Powder. Her stomach twisted, dread clawing at her insides. But as the current carried the shape closer, she could see the sharp angles of the face, unmistakable.

Silco.

His body floated lifelessly, face half-submerged, his coat fanning out like a dark, ominous shroud. Caitlyn stumbled back, her mouth ajar, quickly covered by her hands in shock. His face was mostly torn muscle and a very thinly stretched epidermis. The sight made her stomach flip, kneeling as her knees gave way. 

But VI wasn’t paying attention to that. Her eyes were wide, fixated on the bobbing wooden monkey head in the water that sent a twisting pain through her gut. It swam, chipped and rickety.

Like the day Mylo and Claggor died.

She had to be here.

VI couldn’t lose her again.

“Powder,” Vi muttered under her breath, her jaw tightening.  “POWDER!” She screamed again, voice tearing from her throat. 

There was no time, there was no fucking time!  

Without a second thought, she plunged into the icy water, the cold biting through her clothes like knives. The river pulled at her, its current strong and merciless. Polluted contents stung her eyes, but VI was just as if not stubborn as the waters. She swam with everything she had, her arms cutting through the water as she pushed toward the sinking form. Her eyes strained as she scanned the dark depths for a sign, any sign. Even in the cold and desolate pit, VI could catch a glimpse of something glistening. Something blue. On instinct, she propelled herself to the sight, her head growing dizzying with panic. 

And then, it came.

Powder’s limp body.

Drifting just out of reach

Her hair trailing behind her like a ghostly banner.

VI’s fingers finally closed around Powder’s arm, her hold as equally trembling as it was secure. Briskly, she pulled her sister toward her, enveloping Powder in her arms as her hands cushioned the girl’s head. She couldn’t see her face properly. Hell, she couldn’t even tell if she was breathing. But it didn’t matter, she had her. Nothing would hurt Powder now.

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you, baby…” she whispered repeatedly, more to herself than anyone else. Her legs kicked furiously, fighting the current as she dragged Powder’s lifeless form back to the surface. 

Finally breaking through the water, VI gasped for air, her lungs burning. She cradled Powder against her, her sister’s head lolling against her shoulder. Once on solid ground, VI collapsed to her knees on the muddy bank, laying Powder down on her lap. It was then that she finally got a clear view of her sister’s face. Pale, her lips tinged with blue, veins prominent from the cold. But that wasn’t the issue,

The entire left side of her face was stripped of skin, exposing raw, crimson flesh that glistened grotesquely. Dark red streaks soaked into her clothes, leaving a macabre stain that added to the horrifying sight.

“N-No, no, no,” Vi muttered, pressing her hands against the torn skin. She had to be seeing things. She had to be imagining the gut-churning sight. It couldn’t be. Powder couldn’t be in her arms, lying barely alive. Her hands worked automatically, compressing Powder’s chest in frantic, uneven rhythms. Water trickled from her sister’s mouth, but she didn’t stir.

“Don’t do this- DON’T DO THIS! POWDER!” Vi’s voice shattered, breaking under the weight of her desperation. Tears streamed down her face, blurring her vision as she screamed. Caitlyn knelt beside her, frozen in helplessness, her trembling hands hovering uselessly in the air. All she could do was watch, horror-stricken, as the scene unfolded.

“POWDER, PLEASE!” Vi shrieked, her voice rising to an anguished pitch as she doubled over the lifeless body, clutching it with a ferocity born of sheer despair. She pulled Powder closer, cradling her tightly, her own body wracked with violent, uncontrollable sobs. Her fingers dug into cold flesh, gripping so hard that the pressure threatened to carve scars. “Get up… get up… get up…” she whimpered, the words tumbling out in a frantic, broken plea.

What could she do…

Why did this feel… So familiar.

["V-Vander!? Where's mom!"]

Ahh... that was it. 

– SIDE : FADED RED – 

[“Vi? 

“VIOLET!?”

….

…

.

Sevika’s boots pounded against the slick, uneven pavement, her breath coming in sharp, messy gasps. She glanced back at Silco, who was just a step behind, his usually composed face twisted with an expression she couldn’t quite place- panic? Anger? Fear? Maybe all of them at once.

Amongst their arms, Vi hung limp, a once-fiery spirit reduced to ragged, shallow breaths. Blood seeped through the torn fabric of her shirt, staining Sevika’s arms as she half-carried, half-dragged the teenager. The crimson trail they left on the ground felt like a countdown, every step bringing them closer to the edge of too late.

“Move faster,” Silco snapped, his voice sharp as a blade. “I’m trying,” Sevika shot back, her own nerves betraying her in the tremor of her voice. She was tough, unshakable most days, but this? This was different.

They reached Singed’s lab, the door slamming open under Silco’s shoulder. The room was dim, the smell of chemicals and decay hanging thick in the air. 

“Singed!” Silco barked, his voice echoing in the cavernous space. “Get over here. Now.”

The gaunt figure of the chemist appeared from the shadows, his eyes flickering briefly to Silco before falling on the girl. Without a word, he gestured to the operating table in the centre of the room. 

Gingerly, Sevika laid Vi down. Or, at least as much as she could manage. But even that made the girl groan weakly in pain. Instinctively, the older woman stepped back, her hands shaking as she wiped them on her pants, trying to steady herself. She didn’t look at Silco; unsure if she could face whatever was raging in his eyes. With a scrupulous eye, Singed leaned over Vi, his gloved hands probing the wound with clinical detachment.

“Severe blood loss. Internal damage. Blunt force trauma. If you brought her here any later, she’d be dead already,” he said flatly as if discussing the weather.

“Then do something,” Silco growled, stepping closer. His tone was as commanding as ever, but there was an edge of desperation to it. 

Singed’s eyes flicked to him, then to the purple vials surrounding his desk. “You understand the risks, Silco. This procedure-”

“Do it.” Commanded Silco. Sevika flinched at the raw emotion in his voice. She’d never heard him like this over anything. Singed nodded and turned back to his work, pulling vials and tools from his shelves. Silco didn’t speak right away. His eyes stayed locked on Vi, on her pale face and the blood that soaked through the chemist’s hands as he worked. Then, he finally spoke, his voice low. 

“Same stubbornness. Same recklessness. Always charging in, thinking you can save the world. Look where that got you.” he said quietly, his lips curling into a bitter smile.

Sevika frowned, unease curling in her stomach. “Don’t put that on her… She’s not Vander,” Her voice cautious yet stern.

“I know that,” he snapped, his voice cutting through the room like a whip. But then he sighed, softer this time. “She’s better… she’s worth saving.”

Sevika didn’t say anything. She didn’t trust herself to.

The room fell silent except for the steady hum of Singed’s machines and the laboured breaths of the girl on the table. As Sevika leaned against the wall, arms crossed, she caught Silco’s expression. For all his cold, calculated decisions, there was no mistaking it now. He wanted Vi to live- beyond some tool or pawn, but for reasons he couldn’t fully admit, even to himself. 

And maybe she did too.]

– SIDE : SHIMMER – 

A bloodied, vicious-looking figure stood in the doorway of his lair. In her arms lay a wispy corpse.

“SINGED!”

Chapter Text

– SIDE : FADED RED – 

[Singed’s lab was alive with the hum of machinery, the bubbling of chemicals, and the faint hiss of steam escaping through countless pipes and valves. Purple light glowed dimly from the vials of shimmer stacked along the walls, giving the place an otherworldly air. The smell of chemicals hung thick in the air, enough to make Sevika wrinkle her nose as she leaned against the doorway. Silco broke the silence first, his voice cutting through the ambient noise.

“Tell me.” His tone was low, but it carried the weight of a command. Singed didn’t look up immediately. He made a final adjustment to a beaker, steam hissing as liquid shimmer evaporated. Only then did he turn to face them, his face hidden behind his goggles and the shadow of his hood.

“The results are promising,” Singed began, his tone clinical. “Her strength and durability have increased significantly. Of course, you can’t work from nothing. Her preexisting body structure helps massively.” He praised, continuously. But they all knew there was no rose without its thorns.

“And the risks?” Silco tilted his head slightly, studying the man. Singed nodded procedurally as if anticipating the question. He picked up the syringe, holding it between his fingers so the liquid shimmered in the lab’s dim light.

“As impressive as she is, her body will rely on a regular dose of shimmer to maintain itself. Without it, not only will she lose her heightened abilities, she’ll experience extreme fatigue, crippling muscle degeneration and, eventually, systemic organ failure.” Singed listed off, rather matter of factly. Sevika clearly wasn’t impressed, letting out a scoff and pushing herself off the doorway. 

“All this cutting and stitching up just for there to still be a catch? So this is nothing better than a glorified leash?” she scowled, her mechanical arm clinking as she gestured. Singed looked at her, tilting his head as though the thought amused him.

“A leash, yes. But one that makes her stronger than you could possibly imagine.” His tone remained calm, almost condescending. Sevika shook her head, clearly frustrated. She was about to interrupt again but was silenced as Silco’s eyes flicked toward her, a warning in his gaze. “That’s enough,” he said. Sevika fell silent, but the tension in her body didn’t ease.

“And if we keep her dosed? She’ll live? Greater than she was before?” The man returned his gaze to Singed, narrowing his eyes as he interrogated the doctor.

“If you maintain strict control over the doses, she will remain stronger than any fighter you’ve ever seen.” Singed nodded. Silco’s jaw tightened, but he gave no outward sign of doubt. 

“Then we’ll manage her carefully. She’ll adapt.” Silco concluded. Sevika shook her head again, exhaling sharply through her nose. The room went quiet for a moment, the only sound was the faint bubbling of chemicals in the background. Sevika glanced at the syringe in Singed’s hand, then at Silco.

“This is going to blow up in your face,” she muttered. With that, she turned and left the lab, the sound of her boots echoing down the corridor. Singed watched her go, then returned his attention to the syringe. “Fascinating, isn’t it?” he murmured, almost to himself. 

“The line between creation and destruction. With each dose, 

she walks it.”]

– SIDE : PURPLE – 

VI stormed in, her feet slamming against the floor, her face between panic and rage. Caitlyn was just behind her, barely capable of keeping up with her pace. VI tightly carried the limp body of her baby sister, who was bleeding and barely conscious, the movements in her chest - unnoticeable. Was she even still alive? 

Her voice cracked like a whip.

“Fix her! Right now!”

Singed froze momentarily, his gaze shifting from VI’s burning eyes to the body in her arms. More specifically, the body in her arms. His brow furrowed as he took in the sight- whoever this was? Their condition was critical, her wounds deep and ragged, and her body unnaturally still. 

“I know you did some weird shit to save me from death before. Whatever you did- do it with her, NOW!” VI snapped, practically shoving the corpse into the scientist’s hands. Singed’s head tilted slightly, his mind already working, calculating. But he didn’t miss her words. His voice, low and rasping, carried an undercurrent of curiosity.

“You remember...? How interesting,” he spoke softly. The boxer didn’t have time to endure his philosophy, her eyes flaring with fury. She grabbed the front of his coat, shifting Powder into one arm, yanking him close enough for her breath to fan across his face.

“HURRY UP!” She bellowed.

“P-Please… I-If you can save her, do it. We’ll pay whatever price you want.” Caitlyn stepped forward, her eyes wandering around wildly. Her voice came out strained. She had never recalled sounding so meek in her entire life. But this was all too much to take. Caitlyn felt her knees about to buckle. Singed peered at them both, his gaze settling on VI, and then back to Powder’s limp form. His expression shifted- something between pity and resignation.

“I can save her,” he said finally, his voice quiet but deliberate. He gently accepted Powder into his arms, laying her on the same stone table VI had once laid on. “But you shouldn’t watch.” He added, his voice sounding oddly authoritarian.

“The hell you mean? You want me to look away so you can turn her into some fucked up experiment? No fucking way.” VI grit her teeth. Singed merely let out a soft laugh in return. That laugh infuriated the woman, prompting her to snatch his collar once again. Caitlyn was spiralling into a pit of panic, her hands weakly trying to pull VI off. 

“You may do what you please to me,” The doctor began, “But every second you waste yelling, your chance to save her slips further from your grasp. ” Singed spun to face her, his eyes alight with something almost feral, his patience worn thin. 

The room was dead silent.

VI’s chest heaved, playing as the orchestra to her dizzying thoughts. Fists clenched, and her knuckles turned white. Then, her eyes fell to Powder’s pale face. She wasn’t moving, her breaths faint and shallow. The idea that she’d have to throw that tiny face into a dump at best if she didn’t make a choice made her sick. Really, there was no choice to make.

“Fine,” Vi finally granted, her voice shaking. 

Singed nodded, his fingers twitching as if he had been anticipating her approval to go forth. He stepped back, giving the girl a brief second to attend to the body before she began. VI’s stomach twisted as she leaned over Powder; her heart thudding painfully in her chest.

“You’ll be okay, Pow. You’re strong.” VI didn’t know if she could hear her. She hoped she could. But if she couldn’t, she pressed a small kiss to her forehead. She refused to think that this would be the last chance she saw Powder. But, if it were, she’d want that to be their parting. 

“VI- Watch out!” A sharp warning from Caitlyn made VI swing her head around. But it was too late. She felt something sharp pierce her neck, quickly followed by her knees giving out beneath her. Her heart slowed, pattering loudly in her ears. Fuck. She let her guard down. Through blurry eyes, she tried to catch one last glimpse of her baby sister. 

“P-Powder…” 

– SIDE : BLUE – 

The pain was unbearable. Every nerve in Jinx’s body screamed as liquids carved their way into her. She thrashed against the table, her breaths coming in ragged gasps, each one feeling like it might be her last. The room around her blurred, the edges of her vision darkening as the shimmer’s venom seeped deeper into her veins.            She wanted to leave. She wanted to leave. LET HER LEAVE. 

Jinx blinked, and suddenly the lab was gone. 

The table beneath her turned cold, and jagged, morphing into hard stone. A chill wind swept through the air, carrying with it the faint metallic scent of blood. She struggled to sit up, her limbs trembling, her breath visible in the red smoke that now surrounded her. The bridge.

“Powder,”

a voice called from behind her, soft and familiar. She froze, hesitantly turning her head, her heart pounding against her ribs.

Vi stood there, just a few feet away, bathed in a faint, eerie glow. But something was wrong. Her face was shadowed, her eyes unreadable, and her knuckles dripped crimson, as though she’d just been in a fight.

“Vi? Is… is that you?” Jinx croaked, her voice weak and unsteady, relief creeping into her brows.

Vi, however, didn’t answer. Instead, she took a slow, deliberate step forward, her boots crunching on the ash-covered ground. Her eyes, those same eyes Jinx had grown up looking to for comfort, were cold, empty, like shards of ice.

“What did you do?” Vi’s voice was a low, dangerous growl, heavy with accusation. Jinx’s stomach twisted upon hearing it. Hear ears rang.

What did you do?

WHAT DID YOU DO?

“You’re a monster,” Vi ever so kindly helped her finish her thought; tone sharp and venomous. Her steps quickened, closing the distance between them. The teenager instinctively curled into herself, her arms attempting to substitute the comfort she searched for.

“No, I- I didn’t mean to,” she stammered, the words tumbling from her lips. She clumsily tried to back away, finding herself stumbling backwards into the debris, her legs shaking, head throbbing. Vi then soon revealed the gauntlets that decorated her fists. 

Vander’s gauntlets. 

“Stop lying to me!” Vi roared, her voice echoing unnaturally through the humid air. She lunged forward, giving Jinx barely any time to flinch. Despite that, the impact never came. She felt the rush of air, the sheer force of it, but the fist never hit her. Rather, the ground beside her. Confused, the convict looked up, tears stinging her eyes as Vi loomed over her, a shadow blotting out what little light remained. In her hand, Vi now held a weapon- a jagged blade that glinted cruelly in the dim light. 

“If you never existed, my family would still be alive,” Vi spoke coldly over the girl, their eyes never meeting. Powder desperately wanted to refute her words, to say that Vi would never say them. But all she could do was look terrified, lip quivering, as her hands weakly rested on Vi’s chest.

“V-Violet… I-I’m sorry… Please,” Jinx whimpered, her voice trembling, fragile as glass about to shatter. Her lips quivered as she searched for a trace of warmth in Vi’s eyes, something to hold on to. Anything. But Vi’s expression was stone, cold and unyielding. 

“Don’t call me that,” she spat, her voice low and venomous. “You’re no sister of mine.”

The words hit harder than any blade could. They tore through Jinx, sharp and unforgiving, leaving her raw and hollow. She wanted to scream, to fight. But her body betrayed her, trembling and weak, her mind caught in a hurricane of panic and grief. The tears streamed freely now, burning trails down her face as her heart fractured under the weight of Vi’s words.

And then the blade came down.

“NO!” 

Jinx’s scream peeled from her throat, raw and jagged, as she threw her arms up in a desperate attempt to shield herself.

Instead, the cold bite of steel against her wrists snapped her back to reality. She was no longer on the bridge, with Vi towering over her. But she wasn’t anywhere much better, strapped down, restrained by metal bars biting into her skin. Her chest heaved as she gasped for air, her lungs clawing for oxygen against the weight of the shimmer coursing through her veins.

Sharp, hacking coughs wracked her body, each one dragging something vile and viscous from her throat. The purple substance leaked down her chin, staining the cold surface beneath her. Every movement was agony, every twitch of muscle like a knife slicing through her flesh. She wanted to scream again, but her throat was torn, raw from the effort. Her sobs turned into choked, strangled cries as her body fought against itself.

The tears kept coming, hot and relentless, streaking through the grime and blood on her cheeks. She tried to reach for something- someone- but her arms wouldn’t move, pinned and trembling, powerless. Her head throbbed, her vision swimming with bright, vivid flashes of so many different faces, and so many different looks of disgust, of hatred.

Someone, anyone. Please… save her.

– SIDE : INDIGO – 

Caitlyn stood frozen in place, her back pressed against the cold, damp wall of the lab, her eyes wide with horror. She had seen injuries before; knife wounds, bullet punctures at most. God, this was something else entirely. Jinx’s body writhed on the table, contorted in ways that didn’t seem human. Her screams tore through the air, raw and unrelenting, each one clawing its way into Caitlyn’s chest and squeezing her heart tighter.

The shimmer pulsed, glowing faintly through the girl’s veins like a web of toxic light. It looked like it was devouring her from the inside out. Caitlyn’s hands trembled at her sides as she tried to steady herself, but the sight of Jinx’s suffering was unbearable. Every wrenching cry, every desperate gasp for air made her stomach churn with a sick mix of pity and guilt, pushing her to her own set of tears.

What kind of monster would do this to someone? 

Her gaze flicked briefly to the cold, unfeeling figure of Singed as he worked over Jinx. But it wasn’t enough to distract her from the scene before her. Jinx's fingers clawed weakly at the edge of the table, her eyes wide and unseeing, tears streaking her pale cheeks.

“Y-You’re hurting her. This can’t be the way-” The enforcer weakly protested.

“She is surviving,” Singed replied, his voice calm, almost detached. He didn’t look up, his hands moving with precise efficiency as he adjusted a vial of glowing liquid. “That is what you want, no?”

Caitlyn’s breath hitched, her jaw tightening as she fought to keep her composure. The sight of Jinx writhing on the table, her screams cutting through the air, was too much to bear. She forced herself to look away, her hands trembling at her sides.

Beside her, she felt a faint stirring. VI. Still groggy from being knocked out cold by Singed, her body shifted slightly, a low groan barely audible over the chaos.

“VI…V-VI, wake up. Please… for her.” Caitlyn begged, her voice trembling as she crouched down and grasped Vi’s arm. “She needs you!” Desperation crept into her tone, her movements growing frantic as she shook VI’s shoulder, willing her to open her eyes.

“She’ll be waking up soon,” Singed muttered from the other side of the room, his voice calm and clinical as he wiped a bloodied scalpel on a rag. “Just in time. The operation is nearly complete.”

Caitlyn shot him an incredulous glare, her teeth clenched. She turned back to VI, her voice breaking as she called out again. “VI, please!”

As if the gods themselves had heeded her plea, a low groan escaped VI’s lips. Her eyes fluttered open, bleary and unfocused at first, before widening with recognition. Caitlyn let out a shaky breath of relief, though her heart still pounded in her chest. Caitlyn hesitated, unsure of how to put the horror of what she’d witnessed into words. Instead, she simply gripped Vi’s arm tighter, silently begging her to act.

“Whaa… What… what’s happening?” she rasped, her voice heavy with exhaustion. But the moment her gaze landed on the table and Jinx’s thrashing figure, her exhaustion melted into alarm. She growled, shaking off Caitlyn’s grip as she staggered forward. But before she could take another step, Jinx let out a bloodcurdling scream before collapsing back onto the table, her body limp and trembling, her chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven gasps.

“Powder,” VI whispered, her voice cracking as she stepped closer. “I’m here. I’m right here.” Jinx turned her heavy head toward the sound of her sister’s voice, her eyes glassy and distant. But, as VI reached for her cheek, the small girl sheepishly pulled back. Like… she was scared? The way she gazed at VI was so very different from the look of adoration the enforcer had seen her give to her older sister before - eyes now contracted, lips tight. 

But, even weirder than that, when her gaze fell on Caitlyn, something shifted. A flicker of recognition sparked behind those glowing eyes.

“Caitlyn..!” Jinx croaked, her voice hoarse and trembling. Before anyone could react, the escapee pushed herself off the table with a burst of energy that seemed impossible given the state she was in. She stumbled forward, her legs nearly falling, but she didn’t stop. She threw her arms around Caitlyn, clinging to her like a lifeline.

Kiramman’s breath caught in her throat as Jinx buried her face against her chest, sobbing weakly. Her body shook with every uneven breath, and Caitlyn could feel how frail she was- how much pain she was in.

“Caitie…” She whispered, her voice barely audible between her sobs. Caitlyn hesitated for a moment, stunned by the sudden embrace, but then she wrapped her arms around Jinx, holding her tightly. She didn’t know what to say. But this felt right to do.

“You’re going to be okay. I’ve got you.” Caitlyn whispered, her voice soft, and soothing, even as her heart ached. Focused on trying to console the girl, Kiramman hadn’t even noticed VI. But VI couldn’t look away. 

In fact, she stood frozen; her hands hovering uncertainly in the air, as though she’d been about to reach for Jinx. Her chest felt like it was caught in a vice, the pain sharp and unrelenting. She wanted to be the one Jinx turned to, the one she sought comfort in. But Jinx hadn’t even looked her way. Instead, her arms were wrapped tightly around Caitlyn, clinging to her like a lifeline. Her face betrayed nothing, her expression carefully blank, but when her eyes met Caitlyn’s, the hurt was unmistakable.

Caitlyn felt herself tense. She wasn’t Jinx’s sister- she had no claim here. But what could she do? Push Jinx away? Tell her to turn to VI instead? Jinx was fragile, barely holding herself together, and Caitlyn wasn’t cruel enough to deny her the comfort she so desperately needed, even if it wasn’t hers to give. 

And then, her mind raced, replaying every interaction she’d had with the Zaunite girl. VI had been cruel and nothing but rude to the enforcer. And it wasn’t as if her treatment of Jinx was entirely innocent either.

But, regardless, Caitlyn couldn’t ignore the way her eyes darkened, the raw pain reflected there, and the way her clenched jaw couldn’t quite hide the ache of rejection. Watching it felt like a physical blow, one that made Caitlyn’s stomach churn uneasily. The sight made her chest tighten with guilt. VI loved her sister; that much was undeniable. And Caitlyn knew, deep down, she was standing in the place where VI wanted to be. Shame crept up her spine, prickling her skin, as she bit her lip and looked away, unable to meet VI’s eyes any longer. 

She thought it’d be followed by some yelling. Some cursing, maybe even an attempt to fight her. It would’ve been easier that way. 

But it wasn’t. Instead, a soft, bitter sigh escaped Vi’s lips, making Caitlyn’s head snap up in alarm. VI had lowered her hand, her fingers curling loosely at her side, and an eerily sad smile now tugged at her lips.

“Haha… I didn’t think about it like that,” VI murmured, her voice quiet, almost distant. “But this makes more sense.”

Caitlyn’s brows furrowed in confusion. What was she talking about? It wasn’t until she turned on her heel, her back now to the both of them, that Caitlyn’s stomach dropped.

“Wh-where are you going!?” Caitlyn blurted out, her voice sharp, half accusatory, half genuine concern. VI didn’t stop, her boots scraping lightly against the floor as she moved toward the door.

“Now that Silco’s gone, the undercity’s gonna be a hell pit. She doesn’t need to be here for that. Take her to Piltover. Give her a good life, sugar.” she said simply, her sarcastic tone holding a hollow underlining. Caitlyn’s chest tightened, panic clawing its way up her throat.

“Stop. Don’t do this!” she pleaded, stepping forward, her hand outstretched. VI froze for a moment, her head tilting slightly, but she didn’t look back. 

“It’s for the best.” She repeated, her voice quieter now, as though she were trying to convince herself. 

“Even if it was best, it won’t work. She’ll just look for you again!” Retorted the topsider. At that, VI finally turned her head, just enough for Caitlyn to catch a glimpse of her profile. Her jaw was tight, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. 

“She’s scared of me, Caitlyn,” VI finally spat, her voice cracking. Caitlyn felt the weight of those words like a blow to the chest. She wanted to argue, to tell VI how wrong she was, but before she could find the words, 

The door slammed shut with a heavy thud, echoing in the tense silence.

Caitlyn’s breath caught as her eyes widened. She quickly moved to Jinx, placing her hands gently on her shoulders and meeting her gaze with as much calm as she could muster.

“Jinx, I need you to go back to the arcade. Stay there, okay? I’ll be back soon, with VI,” Caitlyn whispered softly, her voice full of reassurance, though her heart was pounding.

Jinx pressed her cheek into Caitlyn’s palm, her eyes cloudy with emotion, but she nodded slowly, taking in the words. Without another word, she pulled away from Caitlyn and bolted out of the room, her figure disappearing into the distance as she raced after VI.

Caitlyn stood there for a moment, the weight of the situation settling in. She didn’t know what would happen next, but she had to find VI before things went any further.

…

The last drop was packed, the usual murmur of conversation drowned out by clinking glasses and the occasional bark of laughter. Caitlyn’s hand gripped the door handle to the entrance of the bar as she scanned the room, eyes searching for the woman who slinked off. Eventually, she spotted her, leaning against the far end of the bar, nursing a drink, her eyes distant and cold. Caitlyn pushed through the crowd, her pulse quickening as she made her way toward the boxer. The moment VI saw her coming, she stiffened, her expression darkening.

“VI! We need to talk.” Caitlyn called out, her voice steady, though her heart thudded loudly in her chest. The bar’s chittering lowered slightly, the proclamation of such an infamous name startling everyone. VI, however, didn’t even acknowledge her, instead swirling the drink in her hand as if it were the only thing in the world that mattered.

“I’m not leaving until you listen to me.” Caitlyn’s voice was calm, but the edge of frustration crept into her tone, betraying her resolve. She squared her shoulders, refusing to back down.

VI let out a sharp, bitter laugh, her knuckles tightening around the glass in her hand. “You’ve got one hell of a nerve showing up here. You even drink?”

Caitlyn blinked, momentarily thrown off track. “Of course I can drink, I’m not a- ” She stopped herself mid-sentence, catching the sly smirk tugging at VI’s lips. Caitlyn clenched her teeth. She’s trying to steer me off course. Not happening.

“Don’t try to distract me,” Caitlyn snapped, her eyes narrowing. 

“I’m asking you to come back. For Jinx.” VI’s face hardened. 

“It’s Powder,” she corrected, her voice cold, but there was a tremor beneath it. “And you think she wants me back? You think she’d want to be anywhere near me after everything I’ve done?” Her voice softened, tinged with self-loathing. “She’s scared of me. She has every reason to be. She’s better off in Piltover. Safer.”

Caitlyn saw the pain flash in VI’s eyes, masked by defiance. She stepped closer, refusing to let VI slip away into the fortress of cruelty and alcoholism she’d built around herself.

“That’s not true!” Caitlyn denied firmly, her frustration spilling over. “You’re her sister, VI! She needs you. Not Piltover. Not me. You.”

. “You don’t get it, do you?” she muttered. “She nearly died because she thought she had to protect me. Because I made her feel like a fucking burden.” VI scoffed, a bitter smile twisting her lips. She took another long swig, staring at the bar as if the answers might lie at the bottom of her glass

“That wasn’t either of your faults!” Caitlyn retorted, her voice rising slightly as her heart pounded. “You shouldn’t have been in this situation in the first place!”

VI’s jaw clenched, but she didn’t respond. Caitlyn pressed on, her voice softer now but no less insistent. “You’re not going to save her by convincing yourself she’d be better off without you.” Gingerly, Caitlyn placed a hand on VI’s shoulder. The gesture was light, almost hesitant, but it carried the weight of her words. VI froze, her eyes snapping up to meet Caitlyn’s.

“You gonna keep talking my ear off till the heat death of the universe?” The Zaunite muttered, her tone somewhere between irritation and disbelief.

Caitlyn’s heart raced, but she refused to back down. Before doubt could creep in, she slammed her fist down on the bar with a resounding thud, the glasses rattling with the force of it. She leaned in close, her face mere inches from VI’s, hoping her significant height would drive home the seriousness of her plea.

“Yes,” Caitlyn said, her voice low and unwavering.

For a moment, the bar was silent. Then VI let out a bark of crude laughter, the sound grating and hollow. Her laugh rippled through the room, and soon the whole bar joined in, their jeers echoing off the grimy walls. Caitlyn felt heat rush to her face as embarrassment washed over her. She had never wanted to sink into the floor more than she did now.

VI leaned back against the bar, a mocking smirk playing on her lips. She tilted her head slightly, her gaze cutting. “Go home, princess,” she murmured, her voice low enough that only Caitlyn could hear.

“Fine, don’t have to tell me twice.” Without another word, Caitlyn turned sharply and shoved her way through the crowd. But, instead of heading to the door, she headed to the far side of the bar, her eyes scanning for the perfect tool. After a bit of examination, she picked up a small shot glass in between her fingers. Then, with a deep breath, Kirraman squared her shoulders and tossed the shot glass directly at VI’s head.

The sharp sound of shattering glass silenced the bar. VI had pretty easily dodged the projectile by merely pulling back a few inches. Not that she expected any less. Her intent wasn’t necessarily to hit her anyway.

“Something I’ve learned… Is that fighting is a pretty viable form of communication down here.” Caitlyn proudly spoke. Whilst still facing forward, VI’s purple eyes drew to the enforcer’s confident stance. If you looked closely, you could see them glow.

“You wanna do this?” She prodded.

“I’ve never wanted to do anything more,” Caitlyn affirmed. 

The room buzzed with electric tension as the last shards of the shattered shot glass hit the floor. Anticipation oozed from the walls.

“You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. Too bad they won’t be in you for much longer.” VI hummed, cracking her knuckles as she stepped toward Caitlyn. The patrons erupted into cheers and whoops, scrambling to place their bets. Chuck, however, hastily slid another drink toward VI, leaning in close.

“P-Please don’t get her blood all over…” he pleaded sheepishly. VI chuckled, winking at the bartender. She then picked up the glass, swirling the amber liquid before downing it in one go. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and turned slowly to face Caitlyn, her grin widening into something feral.

“Talking is a coward’s game. Shut up and fight!” Caitlyn kept her ground, her stance steady and her chin held high. VI’s brow twitched, but her smirk didn’t falter. She knew Caitlyn was serious, and that infuriating determination only made her persist. The crowd was already roaring, hollering encouragement from every corner of the Last Drop.

“Alright, sugar. You asked for it.”

The first move was quick- VI lunged, her feint obvious and slow enough that even Caitlyn could dodge. The enforcer sidestepped and jabbed forward with a calculated right hook, her form surprisingly solid for someone who wasn’t exactly trained in street fighting. VI caught the punch easily, though.

“Not bad. But you’re not gonna win trading punches with me.” VI snarked, a half-smirk tugging at her lips. Caitlyn didn’t reply. Instead, she twisted her arm sharply, slipping free of VI’s grip before aiming a swift kick at her side. VI blocked it with ease, barely flinching, but the crowd howled with delight.

“Two-to-one on the topsider!” someone called from the back.

“Three-to-one she doesn’t last two minutes!” another shouted.

Caitlyn pressed the attack, throwing another punch, this time aimed at VI’s shoulder. VI dodged effortlessly, her movements almost lazy.

“Come on, sugar. Is this all they teach you up there?” VI taunted, elbowing the enforcer in her stomach. Caitlyn stumbled but didn’t fall, her breath coming quicker now. She glared at VI. She wouldn’t give up. But, VI caught her wrist mid-swing once again and leaned in close, her voice low and almost gentle. 

“Your turn over. My go.” She sang, swinging Caitlyn up and throwing her onto her back. The crowd roared louder, coins clinking as bets shifted as Caitlyn struggled to get back to her feet. VI stood loose and confident, her body language practically dripping with amusement. Rolling her shoulders, she stepped into Caitlyn’s space and tapped her shoulder. Naively, the woman turned around, only to receive a punch from VI from behind her jaw. Caitlyn stagged backwards, holding her chin in shock. The crowd roared with laughter. 

Still, the topsider quickly reset. This time, she aimed low with a kick, then following with a strike toward VI’s midsection. But the move was all but second nature to the boxer, allowing her to effortlessly divert from the kick and punch.

“Nice try,” VI complimented, smirking as she twisted Caitlyn’s arm just enough to force her off balance. With a grunt, Caitlyn pulled free and spun, her elbow swinging toward VI’s head. The crowd whooped at the aggression, but VI ducked easily, her grin growing wider.

“You fightin’ or flirtin, sugar? The brothel ain’t that far from here,” VI teased, stepping in close. Before Caitlyn could react, VI grabbed her wrist and swept her leg, sending Caitlyn sprawling onto her back with a loud thud. 

“GET HER VI!” someone shouted. “MAKE HER PAY!” 

Well, that wasn’t disheartening at all.

Caitlyn groaned, quickly rolling to her feet. Her clothes were scuffed, her breathing heavier now, but she refused to back down. She lunged again, this time with a quick series of punches aimed at VI’s torso. VI blocked each one with ease, returning  the favour with one swift motion by striking the enforcer in the cheek, then stomach. As Caitlyn was about to topple over again, she caught her, pulled her in and leaned in close, her breath warm against Caitlyn’s ear.

“You enforcers really ain’t shit. No wonder you gotta pick fights with kids.” Caitlyn felt her cheeks heat up as she growled in frustration, planting her foot and shoving back with all her strength. Unfortunately, VI simply released her with a laugh, letting Caitlyn stumble forward.

“Come on, Caitie!” VI called, spreading her arms wide in mock invitation. “Show me what you’ve got!” The drunk girl cheered.

Oh, I will! 

Caitlyn charged again, this time aiming high with a roundhouse kick. The boxer ducked, her body fluid and controlled, and countered with a sweep of her own- knocking Cait’s feet out from under her. And she hit the floor. Hard. The bar erupted into cheers and whistles, patrons banging their glasses against the tables.

“Stay down, Piltie!” A patron shouted, laughing.

Chuck poured another drink, sliding it down the bar toward VI who caught it without looking. She continued to down drink after drink in one gulp before slamming the glasses down. Her movements were looser now, her punches slower, but her grin never wavered. If anything, it grew.

Okay, so Caitlyn definitely couldn’t win this fight through brute strength. This should’ve been obvious from their insanely different statures. It was worth a try, still. But all hope wasn’t lost yet. Scanning the room, Caitlyn plotted her turnaround. Forcing herself up, Caitlyn swayed until she got her balance, ignoring VI’s chuckles. 

“C’mon. This is the hill you wanna die on?” VI sneered, her tone dripping with disbelief and condescension.

“Oh, hell yes, it is,” Caitlyn spat back, venom lacing her words as she lunged toward VI again. She knew how this would end. She wasn’t delusional- VI was stronger, faster, and more experienced. But that didn’t stop her. In fact, she was counting on it.

As expected, VI caught her with almost insulting ease, twisting Caitlyn’s momentum against her and hurling her to a nearby table. The wood splintered under Caitlyn’s weight, collapsing with a resounding crash that sent the bar into a fresh uproar. Sprawled in the wreckage of the table, she let out a shaky breath. Pain rippled through her body, but she managed a wry smile. Perfect.

VI stepped closer, crouching over Caitlyn’s battered stomach. Her expression shone with her usual smirk, but her brows reflected a different feeling. She gently cupped Caitlyn’s chin, tilting her face upward. Almost affectionately 

“Don’t make me hurt you more than I gotta, sugar. I would hate to ruin that pretty face of yours.” She said, her voice softer now, almost teasing. Caitlyn’s eyes burned with defiance, even as blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. Their heavy panting aligned in an oddly intimate matter. No sign of fear or will to give up resided on Kirraman’s face. She was smiling. A weird, determined smile. It made VI’sfalter.

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” VI exhaled, standing up and letting Caitlyn’s chin slip from her grasp. She turned to the bar, calling over her shoulder. “Chuck, another round. We’re done.”

Once VI turned her back, the enforcer quickly felt around. Any stray plank would work. Tightly grasping her hands around her newfound weapon, she sprung up - ignoring how her body screamed at her.

One…

She lunged behind VI.

Two.

She lifted the chipped plank.

BANG!

By the time VI turned to peer at the noise behind her, Caitlyn let it collide with her skull. The wood shattered on her skull on impact, making her stumble back a few steps. For a moment, Caitlyn freaked out. What in the freaking she-hulk? That was my only plan!  Though, her mind relaxed, just a bit, when she saw VI’s head lolling back. She was finally giving up.

And her panic instantly returned when the boxer collapsed onto the ground. Goddamn, what was that table made out of? Looking like a deer caught in headlights, she helplessly looked around the crowd. 

Ah… I won…

In front of a group of gamblers.

Who just bet on the person I beat…

And I’m from Piltover…

With all her remaining strength, Caitlyn strung VI onto her back and hurriedly burst out of the bar.

SHIT!SHIT!SHIT!

Chapter Text

– SIDE : INDIGO – 

The heavy oak doors of the bar slammed shut behind them, muffling the chaotic symphony of shouting patrons and splintering wood. Caitlyn kept her grip firm on VI’s arm as she dragged her down the cobblestone street, her polished boots clicking sharply against the ground in contrast to VI’s scuffed combat boots- scraping lazily along.

Feeling like she was far away enough from the mob, the enforcer collapsed onto VI, letting out heavy pants as her cheek squished against the boxer’s chest - which was only ‘covered’ by a few measly rounds of bandages. Fuck. Remind her to never get out of bed ever again. This week had easily been enough action and adventure to last her a lifetime. 

“That was... unexpected.” No response from VI. She stared at the cracked pavement, jaw clenched. Caitlyn exhaled, trying to steady herself. Shifting awkwardly on her feet, the enforcer scanned the alley. Still nothing from VI. Just a flick of her fingers, like she was shaking off a bad thought. Caitlyn sighed and shuffled closer, attempting to meet her eyes. 

“Look, I get it. You don’t like me. You don’t trust me.” She mumbled,

“Wow, we got a real genius over here,” Scoffed the boxer. Caitlyn ignored the jab, rolling her eyes. Well, time for a different approach. 

“You’re just annoyed that I beat you. Bruised ego, much?” she huffed. Vi’s gaze flicked over to her briefly before settling back into the same cold, unreadable mask. “You slow? I let you win.”

Caitlyn barked a laugh. “Hah! You let me hit you with a wooden plank? If that’s the case, I think you’re the slow one!” Even if it’s just tossing jabs at each other, all conversation is good conversation!

VI’s jaw tightened, the muscle in her cheek twitching. “Your face is really fucking annoying, by the way. Your voice, too.” 

…Maybe not all conversation.

Caitlyn scoffed, shaking her head. “Why are you so rude all the time? Are you like this with everyone?”

“You think this is bad? You should talk to the last blue belly I met. If you can talk to the dead, I mean.” VI rolled her shoulders, in a slow, deliberate motion. Caitlyn’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second, her gaze averting from VI.

“I know you think enforcers are all bad. You both do, but-” Kirraman began, reaching her hand out gently to the other woman, only to have it harshly slapped away.

“There’s no fucking but. They killed my parents, they hunted my family and they put my kid sister in jail. You’re all the same to me.” VI spat, her eyes glowing with the shimmer inside her as she spoke. If one listened closely, they could hear how her voice fractured as she spoke. The two resumed in silence, only filled by the heavy breathing of VI’s rage.

“...Then, why haven’t you killed me.” Caitlyn softly spoke, trying to mask the heartbreak and shame on her face.

“She cares about you. She can’t lose anything else. Not because of me. That’s the only reason.” The boxer sighed, shuffling her position around uncomfortably. Caitlyn’s face lit up a small bit. Maybe there was hope yet.

But before Caitlyn could look too happy, VI quickly followed up with a hiss, “But if you do anything to make me regret this, I’ll take your head from those shoulders yourself, sweet tits.” 

Caitlyn was about to rebuttal with her own witty thoughts but was promptly cut off by the sound of heavy footsteps pounding rapidly down the alleyway on both sides. Panicked, the enforcer’s head swung around, only to be confronted with three massive thugs who were now pointing knives at the two of them. 

“Give us the girl. A Piltie will sell well for ransom.” One demanded in a gruff voice, waving his blade around. With wide eyes, Kirraman sheepishly stepped behind VI. Her heart was rattling in her chest - what on earth were they gonna do?! 

“I’d love to hand ya her on a silver platter, but I’ve got other plans. Sorry.” VI was entirely unaffected by the sight, shrugging as if this were all just one minor inconvenience.

WHAT DOES SHE MEAN SHE’D LOVE TO HAND ME OVER?

“Sorry ain’t gonna cut it! That’s a major payday you’re tryna hog!” Another took his chance, swinging at Violet. 

“VI- Be careful!” Caitlyn yelped, stumbling backwards.

– SIDE : RED – 

Hah, who was she telling to be careful?

In one seamless motion, VI pivoted on her heel, caught onto the man’s wrist mid-swing, and twisted it with a sickening crack. Before the blade even hit the ground, her other hand shot forward, her fist colliding with the attacker’s head. The force was terrifying- an effortless punch that sent his head snapping back.

And then… it was gone.

The man’s body crumpled to the ground, head rolling several feet away like a discarded ball. For a moment, the street was silent, save for the faint dripping of blood onto the cobblestones. Caitlyn stared, mouth slightly open, her pulse thundering in her ears. It didn’t take long for the rest of the men to scurry off like terrified rats. 

“You still think I didn’t let you win?” VI mumbled, snapping the frightening silence. 

All Caitlyn could do was stare in awe. 

“Well? Weren’t you planning to ‘drag me back’ to my sister? Let’s go.” VI yanked Caitlyn by the arm, pulling the gob-smacked girl down the alleyway.

– SIDE : BLUE – 

Jinx had been tinkering with the same piece of metal for a while. No inspiration was striking her. She was so bored. And dizzy. No matter how hard she tried to form a thought, her mind just continued to swim in an empty abyss of nothingness.

“Powder?”

The first thing Jinx noticed was the scent- something sickly sweet yet pungent. Beer? It clung to the stifling air of the arcade entrance, where the voice rang from. The dim light flickered overhead. Jinx’s head lolled slightly at the sound of boots scraping against the floor. Her eyes cracked open, unfocused. Then recognition sparked.

Violet? Caitie?

Her breath hitched, a sob caught somewhere between her ribs. Her sister’s skin was marred by glowing violet veins, her body trembling with unnatural energy, her chest rising and falling in frantic, erratic bursts. The very sight of her- so big yet so defeated.

"Vi…?" Powder’s voice was hoarse and strained like it had been clawing its way out of a nightmare. Vi reached the younger girl in three steps, dropping to her knees beside her. Jinx’s eyes studied her sister; letting out a shuddering breath. Like a worry she hadn’t even known she was feeling washed over her.

“I’m here,” Vi whispered, reaching out with shaking hands. Jinx swallowed hard, her throat raw with everything she couldn’t say. She could only look at her sister- the way her fingers twitched against her jacket, her own barely-contained tremors wracking her frame. Vi grasped her, firm but gentle, as if afraid she might slip away entirely. Her skin was ice cold, but she felt as warm as the sun as she held her.

“I didn’t… see you when I woke up… I thought… you left me…” Jinx blinked, dazed, trying to fight through the haze of whatever hell she had escaped hours prior. Vi’s eyes widened and then shot to the enforcer behind them. Something like an annoyance, Jinx believed. 

Vi exhaled a trembling breath. “You trust me to look after you, Pow? I wouldn’t blame you if-” 

“Of course. Who else?” Powder snuggled herself into Vi’s larger frame. Carefully, the older girl cradled her against her chest, her fingers threading through tangled blue hair. 

“That’s all I need to know. I’ve got you, baby.” Vi pressed a kiss to Powder’s temple, her own tears slipping into her hair. Jinx shivered against her, hands fisting weakly onto Vi’s jacket. A broken whimper left her lips- small, scared. Vi tightened her hold. She could’ve sworn she heard Caitlyn whisper something like ‘I told you so’, whatever that meant.

“C’mon, let’s get cha’ back home, kay?” Reluctantly pulling her head from her shoulder, Vi ruffled Powder’s hair whilst flashing a familiar, comfortable smile. Powder’s cheeks squeezed as she grinned back. 

“Wait- Caitie? Are you coming too?” The convict looked hopefully at the blue-haired woman, who was peering awkwardly between the two. Vi, on the other hand, held a disgruntled look towards her the moment their eyes met.

“U-Uhm, well, I mean… If your sister’s okay with it?” Caitlyn expertly diverted the expectations onto Vi, whose brows couldn’t furrow any further. And, like a light switch, Jinx’s look of hope switched over to her older sister. 

“She can, right?” She begged with anticipation, leaning closer to the red-haired woman. Cracking under the pressure of her younger sister’s wide eyes, Vi eventually gave in with a smile. “Fine. Just make sure you can keep up.” She muttered, helping the excitable Jinx up. 

And, like that, the group wandered out of the abandoned arcade, and back to The Last Drop.

– SIDE : RED – 

They were close to home. Almost safe. Jinx was ahead, still hazy but back to normal enough to tease Caitlyn about the grime coating her boots. VI was trailing behind, humming under her breath, her fingers shoved deep into her pockets. As long as Powder was happy. 

Then it happened.

A shadow moved- fast. A hand shot out from the dark, yanking Jinx back by her braids before either of the adults could react. The sickening scrape of steel against flesh echoed as a blade pressed hard against Jinx’s throat. Without even thinking, VI spun, stomach plummeting, fists already clenched and eyes sparkling with a bright purple. 

“Let her go, buddy. You don’t gotta die today.” Her voice was a low growl, every muscle in her body coiled like a spring. The attacker- a wiry, young woman with wild eyes- had breath reeking of Shimmer and rot. Her hands trembled as she pressed the knife harder against Jinx’s skin. VI could tell the woman didn’t want to be there.

“Y-You’re VI… P-People are looking for you, y-you know?” Her voice was barely above a murmur, her gaze refusing to meet the beast before her. Another bounty hunter, huh? VI’s heart pounded, her breath coming fast. Every part of her screamed to lunge, to rip the bastard apart with her bare hands. She could already picture it- face shattering beneath her hands, her body crumpling under the weight of her rage. Yet, she wasn’t moving. A part of her screamed to resolve this peacefully. Maybe she was suddenly overwhelmed with the need to be a role model. 

Or maybe because she knew this woman was only in this position because of her and Silco in the first place.

Powder, however, didn’t flinch. Didn’t hesitate.

Her hand shot up- fast as lightning, fluid as breathing. Before the woman could react, the cold barrel of her makeshift gun was pressed against the back of her head.

BANG .

The shot rang out like a thunderclap. Blood sprayed against the brick wall, dark and viscous. The woman’s body dropped, twitching once before going still, the knife clattering uselessly to the ground.

VI barely had time to process what happened. One second, she’d been ready to throw herself into the fight, and the next- Powder had already ended it. The young girl tilted her head, glancing down at the corpse with mild curiosity, then wiped the smear of blood off her neck with the back of her hand.

“Hey, dumbass. Try restraining my hands, next time?” She callously scorned the corpse, rolling her eyes as she continued on the path ahead. So… unfazed. Like she’d just stepped on a bug. VI weakly reached for her, but the youngest was already skipping ahead, twirling Zapper around her finger like nothing had happened.

"Come on, slowpokes! Last one there’s a rotten crab!” she called over her shoulder. 

VI and Caitlyn exchanged a glance. Neither of them spoke, but the weight of what just happened hung between them, thick as smoke. VI clenched her jaw and followed after her sister, but the unease gnawed at her.

– SIDE : INDIGO – 

So, this was where Jinx grew up? It was…cosy. A dim light from a caged flame cast dancing shadows across wooden walls. Jinx was fast asleep in the top bunk, her hand hanging over the edge. In the bottom sat VI, right beside Jinx’s open palm. 

The boxer sat with her arms crossed, jaw tight, her glare fixed on the woman across from her. Caitlyn sat upright on the couch, hands firmly dug into her lap, her polished composure barely masking the exhaustion behind her eyes. Between them, the quiet - bar snoring from Jinx - stretched thick and heavy.

VI’s knee bounced impatiently against the bed.  “Alright, sugar,” she muttered, voice low and edged with something sharp. “What’s your angle?”

Caitlyn frowned. “My angle?”

“I’m not an idiot. You risk busting the kid outta Stillwater, you get all cosy, make her trust you, and then what? What are you getting out of this?” VI interrogated, shifting in her seat. 

Caitlyn’s grip on her lap tightened. “I wasn’t doing this to gain anything-.”

Vi’s eyes darkened. “You think I believe that?” 

The words hit like a gut punch, but Caitlyn didn’t flinch. She took a slow breath, steadying herself. 

“I mean, at first, yes. I wanted to be the hero who busted Silco and had the means to free her. She had the information I needed and wanted to be free. We made a deal.” VI’s eyes narrowed at this. Caitlyn hesitated, her voice softening, but she continued.

“But, the more time we spent together, we became friends. We were supporting each other… And I still wanna support her.” Kirraman determined.

“Sounds like you just want a charity case.” VI let out a dry, humourless chuckle. Caitlyn’s expression flickered with something unreadable- guilt, maybe. She shuffled in her seat meticulously; choosing her words with just as much precision. 

“No. We really are friends. I’ve not had many before, but I’m sure of it.” The enforcer’s rebuttal came out rather passionately. So much so that it made something in VI’s chest twist. But she swallowed it down. Her gaze darted to Jinx’s hand, carefully observing how it swung with every deep breath she made. 

“I know you don’t trust me, Vi. I understand why.” Caitlyn breathed out, her own wrists anxiously.

“Do you, now?” The red-haired woman quipped back snarkily. But Caitlyn was unfettered, meeting her gaze with an unflinching presence.  “I do.” Her voice was steady, but there was no condescension, no pity. Just quiet honesty. 

“I’m sure I don’t even know the half of it, but from what Jinx’s told me. Hell, from what I’ve seen…Needless brutality, negligence to an insidious level. Horrid abuse across the board” she hesitated, her eyes softening. “They call you monsters and then act surprised when you respond in accordance. It’s evil, every bit of it. I couldn’t even fathom blaming you for hating Piltover. For hating enforcers. And me.” 

VI’s throat tightened. She hated how easily Caitlyn saw through her, how she laid it all out like it was that simple. Because it wasn’t. Nothing ever was. Caitlyn exhaled, glancing away briefly before speaking again. “And now, I show up out of nowhere, working for the very system that hurt you. Of course, you don’t trust me.” 

“But?” Because there was always a catch. Caitlyn took a deep breath in once more.

“I’m not asking you to trust me, Vi. But I do care about Jinx. And whether you like it or not, she let me in.” Kirraman spoke with an impregnable concentration to her words. VI studied her, searching for cracks, for any sign of manipulation. But all she saw was pure sincerity in her face. It was almost eerie. 

“You keep calling her Jinx,” she sighed, rubbing a hand down her face.

Caitlyn hesitated. “It’s what she told me to call her.”

“Got no idea why,” VI muttered slowly, rolling her shoulders. For the first time since they had met, the tension between them eased, just a fraction. VI leaned back against the worn mattress. 

“Busting out of jail, huh? That’s my girl, alright.” VI mumbled, almost absently.

“She really is amazing. And she can just - make stuff? Like, out of nothing? I can’t even begin to comprehend it.” Caitlyn let out an airy laugh. A ghost of a smirk pulled at VI’s lips. Not that the enforcer was trying to find it on purpose, or anything. Things felt lighter.

“We aren’t friends. Don’t think that for even a second.” VI grumbled as she pushed herself up onto her elbows. 

“Hah, don’t need to tell me twice.” Caitlyn shrugged.

More silence.

VI tilted her head slightly, studying her for a long moment. Then, with a casualness that felt almost too deliberate, she said, “But… If you happen to remember how to get here. Guess I wouldn’t close the door on you.”

Caitlyn’s eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise. She opened her mouth, then closed it, as if weighing her response. Eventually, she just gave a small nod. “Alright,” she said softly. “Thank you.”

“If you forget about her, I’ll hunt you down myself.” VI huffed, looking away. Kirraman chuckled, despite being almost one hundred per cent sure she wasn’t joking. 

“Mmm, should probably get you home. Powder’ll be mad if I let you get kidnapped on the way back.” And with that, VI offered a hand to the enforcer. Just as she was about to take it, VI snatched it away, letting Caitlyn stumble forward.

“Hey!” Caitlyn hissed.

“First rule of survival. Trust no one. Especially not me.” teased VI, winking sarcastically at the other woman. Kirraman rolled her eyes, following her up the stairs. But not before giving the peacefully, sleeping teenager one more gaze. A small smile pricked at her lips.

Maybe I don’t need to be an enforcer to help people.

Chapter Text

Hello one, hello all! Sorry this isn't a proper chapter, hopefully 17 should be up by tomorrow. However, it wanted to inform you all that the first part of what will hopefully become an animatic series for this AU is officially up on YouTube! It's short, but so much effort went into it and I'm very greatful to everyone who participated! You can watch it here :

https://youtu.be/9jE_YjzPWyQ?si=CdAcowmtt0aZeGwU

Secondly, I was thinking of making a fic read (is that what it's called?) based/using this fic on YouTube. Think something akin to bride of discord (ik I'm old 😭). With that being said, if you're interested in voice acting, drawing or even colouring in your spare time, feel free to hit me up on my discord, digichiaki! If not, just stay tuned for the ride and hopefully chapter 17 arrives in a timely manner tomorrow ^-^

Chapter Text

– SIDE : INDIGO –

“Don’t stay up past your bedtime now, sugar.”

The journey across the bridge to topside was fairly quiet; the weight of the two’s prior conversation evidently hung heavy over both their heads. Tension, and something more, maybe. Regardless, VI went as far as she could and maintained her aloof stature as she sent Caitlyn off. 

Gosh, it had been a while since Caitlyn had stepped back into Piltover. She almost went blind from the brightness. And her nose finally felt unclogged. And it wasn’t all sweaty and humid. All realisations that you’d think would invoke some sort of positive feeling in her, like relief.

But, instead, a feeling of shame settled itself where her happiness should’ve been. Looking at the clean streets, the towering buildings, the blue sky. All of it made her feel uneasy. All she could think was,

Why us and not them?

Caitlyn continued to walk through the gleaming streets of Piltover, her boots clicking softly against the pristine cobblestone. The city smelled clean- too clean. No fumes burning her lungs, no damp air clinging to her skin. Her stomach twisted.

Zaun lingered in her mind, its winding alleyways, its ever-present haze, the way grime and oil painted everything in muted greens and browns. She had spent a week there. A whole week. Swallowed by its chaos, its desperation. She had seen people fight for scraps, children with hollow eyes scouring the undercity for anything of worth. You’d think anyone would be happy to be out of that hellhole. 

Yet, now, stepping back into the heart of Piltover, surrounded by opulence and order, she felt like a traitor.

Kirraman’s hands clenched at her sides as she walked past merchants selling exotic fabrics, scholars debating over blueprints, enforcers standing at ease, their armour polished, their weapons holstered.

Most of all, she thought of Jinx. Of VI. Of what they had to do to survive. The people of Zaun fought every day just to keep breathing, while she had been given everything- a home, security, opportunity- simply by being born on the right side of the bridge.

Why us and not them?

She barely noticed where she was going until she rounded a corner and collided with something solid.

“Caitlyn?”

Strong hands caught her arms before she could stumble back, and she looked up into a pair of concerned brown eyes.

Jayce.

“There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he said, his voice filled with relief. But his expression quickly shifted to something more serious as he took in the dark circles under her eyes, the tension in her posture. “Where have you been?”

Caitlyn opened her mouth, but no words came out. She wasn’t sure what to tell him. That she had spent a week in Zaun, watching people scrape by while she had the luxury of leaving? That every moment she spent back in Piltover felt like a betrayal?

“Are you okay?” Jayce frowned, his grip tightening just slightly. Caitlyn let out a breath, looking past him, and out over the shining city. It felt too bright, too clean. Too detached from the suffering just below its feet.

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

Jayce’s frown deepened. He studied her, his usual goofiness giving way to something more uncertain, more hesitant. “Cait, you’re scaring me a little.”

She shook her head as if that would clear the weight pressing down on her. “I just…” She exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over her face. “I was in Zaun.”

Jayce’s brows shot up. “Zaun?” He lowered his voice, glancing around. “For a week? Caitlyn, what were you thinking?”

“I was thinking,” she said, voice tight, “that I could do some good for once…”  

“What?” Jayce blinked. 

 “I wanted to be a hero. But… I just feel like a monster. I saw firsthand how horrid and insidious this world is. And I got to step back into Piltover like nothing happened.” She gestured vaguely, her hands trembling with frustration she didn’t know how to express. 

“But they’re stuck there.” Her voice cracked as she turned away, her heart hammering against her ribs.

Jayce was quiet for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, gently, “I’m sorry, sprout. That must’ve been terrifying. But that was dangerous-”

“And who’s fault is that!?” Caitlyn snapped. “My mother’s, the council’s, yours, mine! Everyone here is guilty!” 

Jayce flinched at her outburst, but Caitlyn barely noticed. Her breath was ragged, her pulse loud in her ears. She had spent the past week witnessing the suffering that Piltover had taught her to turn a blind eye to.  And now, standing here, back in the polished streets, it was unbearable. She was furious. She was guilt-stricken. All of it was crushing her.

“Caitlyn, I—” Jayce stopped himself, letting out a slow breath and rubbing a hand down his face, as if unsure of what to say. “I know it’s unfair.”

“Unfair? It’s more than unfair, Jayce. It’s wrong. We take and take and take from them, we make it so bad that even their children have to work! And when they dare to fight back, we call them criminals and throw them into stone walls to get beat on by Enforcers!” She turned on him, eyes burning. 

“Do you have any idea what it’s like down there?” Caitlyn let out a bitter laugh. Jayce hesitated, then shook his head.

“No, you don’t, Because you never had to. None of us ever had to,” she said sharply. 

“So what do we do? Bring down the whole system overnight? March into the council chambers and tell them to- what? Do you have a plan?” Jayce tried his best to approach kindly, but his own realisations of their inescapable cycle soaked into his words. “You aren’t wrong. Not at all. But you know how they’ll respond.” 

Caitlyn’s hands curled into fists. Of course, she knew. They’d make excuses. Call for patience. Propose slow, meaningless reforms that wouldn’t change a damn thing.

“You can’t burn yourself out trying to fix everything at once.” Jayce’s expression softened. 

“I just… I don’t know how to live with this.” Caitlyn exhaled sharply, looking away. Jayce hesitated before stepping closer, his voice softer now. 

He placed a hand on her shoulder, grounding her. “Then don’t do it alone. We’ll figure something out. But you need to take care of yourself too, Sprout.” 

Caitlyn swallowed hard. The weight in her chest didn’t disappear, but it shifted, just slightly. She wasn’t sure if she believed him- if Piltover could ever truly change. But for now, she let him steady her. Even if she wasn’t sure that she deserved it.

“C’mon, let’s get you home. You can even tell me all about this prisoner I apparently authorised the release of.” As Jayce swung his arm around the younger woman, he gave her a knowing look. Kirraman simply folded her arms and looked away. 

“I don’t regret it.”

“Haha, I know. I know.”

– SIDE : RED –

VI hesitated outside the rusted door of Silco’s office, her fingers tightening into a fist. The last time she was here, he was alive. When she saw his body, she really hadn’t even processed it. But now, there was no choice but to. Maybe part of her hoped he’d still be sitting there, all cocky on his throne. Like always. 

But, when she finally pushed the door open, that microscopic hope burnt out. 

He wasn’t there. Of course, he wasn’t. 

The scent of burnt cigars and metal lingered, untouched by time. Papers were still scattered across his desk, ink stains left unfinished. The chair behind it sat empty. It sent a cold shiver through her. Sevika was there, sitting on the desk, facing away from the door. The only part of her face visible was the gash that Powder had left on her head.

Yeesh.

“Didn’t think you’d come back,” Sevika said, flicking a lighter open and shut. “Thought you’d be too busy playing mother to that homicidal ticking time bomb.” Snark dripped from the gambler’s words.

“Don’t talk about her like that.” VI narrowed her eyes.

“Guess I thought right.” Sevika huffed a laugh.

VI clenched her jaw, stepping further inside, before closing her eyes and taking a long exhale. “I didn’t come here to fight.”

Sevika shrugged, pushing herself off the desk. She studied Vi for a moment, then sighed. She then reached into her coat and pulled out a folded piece of paper. She held it up between two fingers.  “Silco had a deal on the table, you know?”

“What kind of deal?” VI mumbled, raising a brow.

“Independence. For Zaun.” Sevika’s gaze hardened.

VI’s eyes widened as her breath caught in her throat, tightening. “Bullshit. No fucking way.”

“Nope. He was given an offer. Zaun’s freedom. He was given a week to consider.” Sevika smirked, but there was no humour in it. The boxer’s stomach twisted. “And he died on the last day he had. Ain't that funny.”

“Why the hell would he wait that long?” VI hissed, instinctively raising her voice.

“Cuz they wanted you.” The older woman huffed. VI was sure her heart stopped beating for a second. Her? 

“Pilties wanted to make an example of you. Y’know, for Marcus?” Sevika continued, shrugging noncommittal. 

No, Silco would’ve given her up in a heartbeat. 

VI knows he would’ve.

He killed Vander. He doesn’t give a shit about her.

Sevika saw the flicker of conflict in VI’s eyes, the way her shoulders tensed as if the walls were closing in around her. Her pupils darted wildly, glowing with a faint purple hue, breaths coming shallow and unsteady.

With a measured inhale, Sevika stepped forward, closing the space between them. She reached out, pressing the folded piece of paper into VI’s trembling hands, her own steady, grounding.

“Here,” she said, voice firm but quiet. “He left this for you.”

Despite quaking, VI forced herself to take the letter. The paper was worn, the ink smudged by some sort of water.

She unfolded it, her heart pounding.

‘Violet. If you are reading this, I’ve most likely taken my final fall. I leave this to you in an act of goodwill. Janna knows my life as I lived it lacked such a thing significantly. 

I know you despise me. You have every right to. I know you think I despised you, that I saw you as nothing more than a weapon to wield. But that isn’t the truth. I don’t expect you to believe me- not now, not ever. You are too much like your father for that.

What I do intend to do, however, is to make you aware of your own strengths. You spend all your time wallowing in your faults, worrying that you aren’t good enough. I find it to be idiotic. Ever since you were young, you’ve beyond proven your capabilities. You have a sister who entirely devotes her trust to you. This trust didn’t arise out of nowhere. You proved yourself to her. To Sevika. And, most definitely to me.

So, I’ve no need to accept a peace deal from Piltover, strings attached. I can put my faith in you to tear this system from the top down. To be beyond myself, Sevika and even Vander. It’s not a matter of ‘can she’ but rather ‘when she’.

I think, could I had gone back, I would have done things differently. I think you made me realise this. Alas, such a thing can’t be. So, I entrust Zaun to you. Inspire them like you did me.

And protect your family, above all.

-Silco.’

VI’s hands trembled as she read the last line. Her breath hitched, and she clenched her jaw, willing herself not to break. She didn’t know whether to laugh or sob. She wanted to tear the letter apart and throw it far away, but her fingers wouldn’t obey. Her mind screamed at her that this was just another one of Silco’s manipulations. But deep down, beneath the fury, the doubt, and the years of hatred, something cracked. He had chosen her. He had given up everything- for her. Because he trusted her. And it wasn’t even a matter of consideration.

“That bastard. I hate him.” A bitter laugh bubbled up in her throat. She pressed the letter against her chest, closing her eyes for just a moment. 

“You and me both, kid.” Sevika mumbled. 

“I gotta go do something.”

…

VI’s raw hands held onto the lifeless corpse before her. 

Silco. 

The water was cold. Always was. 

The current lapped at them both, dark and endless. The hair that covered the left side of her face now floated in the water with no resistance. Unlike her right, it was soft and unscarred. But both sides of Silco’s face were ruined now. 

VI stayed there, floating, waiting- half-expecting the man’s eyes to spring open and for him to drag them both back to land. To chastise VI for whatever. 

But he remained, silent, moving only as the water around them permitted him to.

Silco, the man who killed Vander. The man got her family killed. The man who ruled Zaun like he was its lifeblood. The man who took her in when she had nothing. And now, he was nothing. Just another corpse. She told herself she should feel lighter. That this was justice. That it was closure. 

But as she stared at his torn skin, something heavier settled in her chest.

Violet never wanted to believe that Vander tried to kill Silco. That her beloved father figure tried to murder a man for a mistake like that. Even so, a part of her always knew it was true. And a part of her always wondered if their fate was in stone ever since then. If there could’ve been another way. 

“You’re right about me being beyond you all. You were both pretty useless. Vander was at least kind, though. You were always bitching.” VI’s lips trembled as she whimpered. 

“I hated you. I still do. You didn’t have to kill him. And then, you finally reach the fruits of all your sins, and you take the coward's way out. Did you finally get a conscious, huh? Were you finally tired of playing the monster? Now it’s my turn, huh? Just like Vander, I’m cleaning up your messes. And worst of all, you have the nerve– “ Her voice broke. “To tell me to protect my family.”

So desperately. So desperately did VI want to beg for him to respond. To yell at her back. To say something, anything.

“I hate you. For everything.” 

Reluctant. Longing. VI’s fingers began to loosen their grip.

“Including making me give a shit about you.”

It’s funny, how warm a dead body could be in such cold waters. How instantly VI could feel the warmth leaving as she let his body go. How what should’ve felt like a weight off her shoulders contradictorily felt like it was squeezing the air out of her lungs. How her eyes had gone from glossy tears to full-on streams. A part of her was worried she wouldn’t return to the surface.

But she had to. Powder was waiting.

– SIDE : BLUE –

Jinx was snug as a bug, wrapped up in warm blankets with Bunny Violet tucked close beside her. Her thumb rested lightly against her bottom lip, her breaths slow and steady. Truly, life didn’t get better than this.

“Pow-Pow?”

The voice was soft, barely more than a whisper, but it was enough to stir the sleeping girl. A sleepy mumble escaped her lips as her eyelids fluttered open, hazy blue eyes meeting Vi’s.

“Violet?” she murmured, voice thick with sleep. She sounded happy. She was happy. The happiest she’d been in a long, long time.

“Yeah, it’s me, Pow.”

Powder blinked a few times, clearing the sleep from her eyes, and when she saw her sister smiling down at her; smiling, relaxed and warm. Her heart squeezed. Vi started to say something, something important, but before she could get the words out, Powder was already moving. She threw her arms around her sister, snuggling into the crook of her neck like she never wanted to let go.

“Viii!” she squealed, voice muffled against Vi’s shoulder.

Vi let out a soft chuckle, wrapping her arms around her little sister just as tight. Then, she carefully pulled back. Just so she could look at Jinx- really look at her. For the first time in years. She had changed so much. Of course she had, it’d been half a decade.

But more than anything, her gaze seemed fixed on Jinx’s wide eyes, gleaming under the dim light. Their usual electric blue was now tinged with pink. The same soft hue Vi had seen in her own reflection too many times to count. 

“I wasn’t there. I should've been there.” The older of the two hung her head, shaking it slowly. "I left you. And now-"

"Left me? Are you crazy, lady?" Jinx tilted her head, a genuine look of confusion plastered on her face. 

“I was taken, ya dumb dumb! To that shitty prison.” Jinx hummed, poking Vi’s forehead playfully.  Vi stiffened. The name alone sent a chill down her spine. During the tea party, so much was going on. But she did say that. Vi remembered clearly now.

Stillwater . That flurry of anger surged within her again. The thought of Powder trapped in that hellhole? It made her stomach turn.

"You couldn’t have saved me. So, you can stop feeling all guilty and broody now.” Jinx said it so matter of factly, waving her finger around. Maybe she thought it was reassuring, but it surely wasn’t.

"That doesn’t make it right," Vi exhaled sharply, her fists clenching at her sides. 

"Come on, lighten up! I'm here, you're here, and guess what? We're both alive. Isn’t that something to smile about?" Jinx cocked her head to the side to get a proper look at her sister’s slightly lowered head. The guilt was still thick in the older girl’s chest. But as she looked at Powder, she managed a small grin.

"Of course it is," Vi said, ruffling Jinx’s messy blue hair with her bloodied hands. Jinx scrunched up her nose but giggled, throwing her arms in the air like a kid.

"Well, don’t we gotta do something to celebrate such an amazing reunion?" she announced, rocking back on her mattress. Vi smirked, crossing her arms. "Oh yeah? Whatcha thinkin’?"

Jinx tapped her chin, pretending to be deep in thought. "Hmm… maybe something that starts with a P..." Her fingers sneaked behind her, reaching for the pillow she had just been sleeping on.

Vi’s brow furrowed. "P?"

Jinx’s grin turned wicked. "And ends in a- PILLOW FIGHT!"

Before the boxer could react, Jinx launched herself from the top bunk, pillow in hand, and practically tackled her sister onto the floor. Vi yelped as they tumbled back, Jinx using the pillow as a makeshift landing pad.

"You cheat!" Vi laughed, trying to dodge Jinx’s wild swings. "Let me get a pillow first!"

"Uh-uh, rules of war, Vi! No mercy!" Jinx cackled, whacking her again for good measure. Feathers started escaping from the pillow, floating in the air like little white snowflakes.

Vi huffed, twisting out of Jinx’s grasp and scrambling toward the bed. "Oh, you’re in for it now!" She grabbed the closest pillow she could find and spun around- only for Jinx to boop her on the nose with hers.

"Boop!" Jinx chirped, grinning ear to ear.

Vi groaned dramatically. "That’s it!"

And just like that, the room erupted into chaos. Feathers flew, laughter echoed off the walls, and for a moment, it was like nothing had changed- like they were just two sisters goofing around, back before the world got so complicated.

When they finally collapsed onto the bed, breathless and tangled in a mess of pillows and fabric.

"Wow, I expected that to be an easy win. Y’know, cuz you’re all old and stuff, now." Jinx snorted.

"Hey! I’m only 20?” Vi gave an incredulous laugh. Jinx raised her eyebrows as if to say ‘exactly’. To this, Vi simply nudged her. 

“Buut, I still love you. Even if you’re old and grey.” Turning over to her big sister, Powder beamed with the widest smile she had seen in a while. 

“Woooow, thanks.” Vi sighed, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I love ya too, Pow. More than anything.

“More than anything.” Powder repeated. Humming contently, she rested her head against Vi’s shoulder. And for the first time in years, Powder felt like she had a family.

Everything was quiet, until…

KNOCK 

KNOCK

KNOCK

– SIDE : INDIGO –

“Mother. Father. I want to speak with you.”

This was the first thing Caitlyn said to her mother. After disappearing for a week. She was surprised her mother abided, even if only because the young Kirraman refused to field any questions until she did.

So, there they were. Caitlyn sat with her parents in the grand sitting room of Kiramman Manor, her jaw set, hands clenched at her sides. The air held the scent of expensive tea and old parchment. A beautifully calm setting. But one probably unfitting for the heavy conversation about to incur.

“Will you tell us where on earth you’ve been, now?” Cassandra snapped. Caitlyn paid no mind to her hostile tone. She was sure she caused her mother a lot of stress. Even if she didn’t regret it, she could still sympathise.

“Firstly, I want to apologise. I was away for an extended period of time with no warning. I understand how this could’ve worried you both.”

“That’s an understatement if I’ve ever heard one.” Caitlyn’s mother bitterly cut through her words.

Caitlyn took a deep inhale, furrowing her brows, before continuing. “Regardless, I’ve a dire topic I need to discuss with you as a result of my absence,”

The room was silent. The young enforcer felt as if she was waiting to be interrupted again. But she wasn’t. And so, she went ahead, pushing her anxieties aside.

"Zaun is suffering," Caitlyn stated firmly, looking straight at her mother.

"And we’re ignoring it. You are ignoring it."

Her mother gave her an offended look, head slightly turning to the side; as if she was trying to discern Caitlyn’s seriousness. Unfortunately for her, there wasn’t a hint of joking nature in either her face or words. Upon realising this, her mouth formed a tight line.

"You don’t understand what you speak of. Zaun is an entity unto itself. It cannot be tamed." she replied.

“It doesn’t need to be tamed. It needs you and the rest of the council to take some responsibility!” Caitlyn retorted.

"Piltover is our priority." Cassandra hummed coolly, stirring her tea. 

Caitlyn scoffed. "Priority? So it’s a priority to turn a blind eye to a lack of resources due to insidious industrial pushes from Piltover? To children starving in the streets, working in the mines? To enforcers abusing their power?" She leaned forward, her voice growing sharp. "To children being thrown in Stillwater?"

"You speak boldly, but you fail to understand the complexities of governing a city. We cannot simply fix Zaun overnight. Nor can we be held responsible for its failures." Cassandra finally set her teacup down with an audible clink and folded her hands neatly. 

"Is Zaun not under the council’s jurisdiction? You can try and blame this all on people like Silco or his chem-barons, but they only exist because of you!” Caitlyn challenged. 

"We do what we must to protect our people," she said. Her mother’s expression barely flickered, but there was a cool detachment in her gaze that sent a chill down Caitlyn’s spine.

"Our people? S-So, what? Someone isn’t a person enough for you because of the side of the bridge they were born on!?” Caitlyn’s hands trembled with frustration. 

"Enough, Caitlyn." Cassandra exhaled sharply.

"No!" Caitlyn snapped. 

"Caitlyn-" Her father, Tobias, shifted uncomfortably in his chair. The young Kirraman interrupted.

"I refuse to be a part of this. If you two won’t do anything, t-then…" A silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words.

"I’m going to Zaun!" Caitlyn shouted, throwing her enforcer badge onto the floor. 

"And I’ll stay there until something changes.”

"Don’t be reckless-" Her father straightened.

Cassandra didn’t miss a beat, scraping her chair against the floor as she stood, her expression stony.  "Go, then. If you’re so ungrateful for what you have and wish to throw your future away, do it. I won’t stop you.” 

"Cassandra-" Tobias’ brow furrowed. 

"No, it’s not that you won’t stop me. You can’t. This is my choice.” Caitlyn said, lifting her chin as her teeth grit. Her mother didn’t react, simply turning her head and providing a dismissive gesture with her hand. With that, Caitlyn took a breath, turned on her heel, and walked toward the door.

“Caitlyn,” He called out. “I can’t force you to stay, but I wish you wouldn’t leave like this. Is this really what you want?” His voice was weary, resigned. 

Caitlyn’s gaze softened slightly. "Yes, father. I joined the Enforcers in order to do some good. This is my chance…” The daughter felt her shoulders relax a small bit as her father gave her a look of acceptance.

"If you step out that door, don’t expect to be welcomed back so easily." Her mother called after her.

Caitlyn’s eyes briefly met her mother's, just for a second. Betrayal and frustration caused her lips to curl. She didn’t understand how cruel she could be. But there wasn’t anything to dwell on now. She kept walking. As she stepped out into the cold evening air, the weight in her chest felt lighter than it had in years.

She was finally doing something that mattered.

…

Caitlyn approached the basement door, hesitantly resting her hand on the wood. This wasn’t too intrusive, right? Well, she didn’t have much of a choice now.

KNOCK 

KNOCK

KNOCK

“Hey… You said I was free to visit, right?”

Chapter Text

– SIDE : INDIGO –

“Hey… You said I was free to visit, right?”

The door swung open, revealing Caitlyn. Her normally neat hair now slightly dishevelled. She looked exhausted, but her blue eyes were filled with determination. Awkwardly, she held her hand up and waved. VI glared, eyes squinting in disbelief. 

“Hey! Catie, back so soon? Ya miss me that much?” Jinx popped up from underneath her sister’s outstretched arm, hitting her raised hand in a high five. The topsider’s smile eased a bit at this. 

“Haha- I guess you could say that-”

“Nope,” VI interjected. The two blue-haired girls turned to her with confusion, wondering what she could be objecting to.

Caitlyn blinked. “Uh… Nope?”

The boxer crossed her arms, her stance rigid. “When I said you could come back, I meant, like, in a few weeks. Even months. Go back home.”

“VI! She’s a guest! C’mon!” The teenager groaned, throwing her head back dramatically. VI shot her an annoyed glance but didn’t respond. Instead, her gaze was locked on Caitlyn, her jaw set. Kirraman sighed, shifting the weight on her legs. 

“Why are you back?” VI scowled.

“Aha… It’s actually a funny story. I… kind of need a place to stay after running away from home because my mother refuses to listen to me about helping the undercity?” Caitlyn awkwardly tried. No one spoke. Jinx wore a look of surprise - kinda impressed. VI, however, wasn’t. If anything, her scowl deepened.

“So you ran away from home and expected us to house you like some hotel? You Pilties got a real entitlement issue.” VI sneered.

Caitlyn stiffened. “That’s not fair-”

“No, what’s not fair is that you can just leave when it gets hard. You still have a home to go back to, sugar.” VI stepped closer, her voice low.

The words stung. The topsider opened her mouth, but Jinx jumped in first.

“Vi, relax! If we push away Caitie when she has no home, aren’t we just as bad as said ‘Pilties’?” The ex-convict bargained, throwing an arm around the taller woman’s shoulders as she raised her eyebrows. VI’s incredulous look then shifted to her younger sister, probably trying to say ‘Did you really just say that?’

“Jinx-” She pinched the bridge of her nose. But before she could begin her reprimand, Jinx whined, grabbing her sister’s jacket and flashing her wide purple eyes in what was most certainly a deceptive move. 

“Pleaaaase?”

Unfortunately, VI found herself entirely unable to look away, her only weakness was coming to bite her in the ass - and hard. Looking into her sister’s pleading eyes was slowly melting her heart and she hated it.

Finally, after the longest bout of silence ever, VI let out a long sigh.

“Fine.” She relented. “But. You clean up after your own messes and, I swear if you bring issues onto my doorstep-”

“I won’t.” Without wavering, Caitlyn nodded. VI just turned away, arms still crossed.

“Yay! Sleepover!” Jinx whooped, yanking Caitlyn inside. Disgruntled, VI watched as her younger sister dragged the topsider into their home, desperately trying to ignore the bubbling discomfort in her throat. Maybe she had no room to judge, but still.

“Soo, Caitie! Tell me everything! Was there a massive brawl? Did they exile you? Did you have to fight in a colosseum for your honour?” Jinx excitedly bombarded the young Kirraman with a multitude of questions, each increasingly ridiculous as the last. All Caitlyn could do was raise her eyebrow at the interrogation in amusement. 

VI, on the other hand, was staring absent-mindedly at the door, the letter Silco left behind creeping into her mind.

[‘Tear this system from the top down’]

It seems like she had to clean up yet another ill-tempered old man’s mess.

“Actually, sugar. Do me a favour. Keep an eye on Pow, I gotta run an errand.” She huffed, shrugging her jacket back onto her shoulders without even turning to look at the topsider. Caitlyn gave a suspicious look, feeling like VI was testing her. Was there a wrong answer? Probably ‘no’, right? Unless that’s what she wanted her to think? 

Amidst her thorough analysis of every outcome, the Kirraman hadn’t even noticed Jinx practically disappearing and reappearing at VI’s hip in a matter of seconds, highlighted with a pink streak. 

“Where are you going?” She whined, looking nervously up to the boxer.

“Don’t worry, kid. I just gotta go handle some annoying thugs so they won’t bother us later. I’ll be in and out.” VI’s face softened significantly upon the sight of her worried baby sister’s face, instinctively cradling her cheek with a rugged hand. Jinx visibly chewed her lip at this response, reluctantly looking down.

“And, hey, when I get back, I’ll make you your favourite meal. Like old times.” The older sister added in a gentle voice, rubbing her thumb in a reassuring motion. Eventually, Jinx let go and nodded with a small smile.

“You better come back.” She mumbled.

“I swear it, Pow. Now go have fun with your little Piltie friend over there.” VI chuckled, and so did Jinx. They touched their foreheads, briefly, before VI made her leave.

Huh, is that a thing they do?

– SIDE : RED –

She won’t last. Just gotta wait her out until she runs back home.

Ugh, why was that the only thing VI could think of? As if she didn’t have way bigger fish to fry than a two-left-footed topsider.

Like the stupid friggin Chembarons, for example - Zaun’s self-proclaimed industry kings and queens. 

VI never paid much attention to them, she can’t even recall ever having a conversation with one of them. But from Silco’s rants, she had at least a semi-idea of what those pompous, greedy bastards were like. Janna, she’d never understand why Silco put his power into those fools. They lounged in their seats, sipping spiked shimmer and swirling cigars between their fingers. They didn’t care about Zaun, they cared about lining their pockets.

Well, that’d change today. 

…

With the old snake gone, it seemed his business partners had become content revelling amongst the chaos of the citizens, entirely unaware of the woman that awaited them. They gathered in their usual meeting spot, speaking in haughty voices, their laughter carrying an edge of arrogance. From where she stood, she couldn’t see, but she could hear. She could also hear Sevika desperately trying to rally them.

And failing. Badly.

“You don’t do much of anything anymore, do you, magpie?” Wrinkled one extremely jarring voice from the other side of the doors. Okay, she had let Sevika suffer enough.

The doors creaked open.

VI stepped inside, her heavy boots heaving against the marble floor. The room hushed slightly as the men and women inside turned toward her. It wasn’t just anyone who interrupted a Chembaron meeting unannounced. Luckily for her, and unluckily for them, she wasn’t just anyone. Without speaking a word, she sauntered up to Sevika’s side, gesturing her head as if to say ‘I'll handle it’. The gambler gave a heavy exhale before rolling her eyes and taking a step to the back of the room. Within that facade of annoyance, VI knew she was relieved. Sev was never a team rallier. Neither was she.

Wordlessly, she pulled a single cigarette from her pocket, rolling it between her fingers as she stepped forward. Her gaze, sharp as a jagged blade, swept across the room before landing on the man seated at the head of the table - Finn, the slithering scumbag with a shiny lower face, who thought himself untouchable.

“Got a light?” The boxer asked, her voice calm.

There was a beat of silence before laughter erupted from the gathered criminals. The Chembarons were used to being feared, not being asked favours from. One of them, a thick-necked brute with a cybernetic arm, stood up. His smirk was all teeth as he sauntered toward her.

“Ain’t you Silco’s little girl? Bold of ya to show yer face here!” he sneered, stepping into her space, his breath reeking of whiskey and smoke. 

“You lost, girl?” Finn cooed.

“Can a girl not get a light? ‘Sides, by the sound of your voice, it’d be doing you a favour to smoke less.” VI tilted her head, exhaling through her nose. 

“I think you need a lesson in respect.” Finn scoffed, standing up as he raised a hand, fingers curling as if to grab her. Maybe it was just a threat. Or maybe he was stupid enough to actually try it. Either way, the outcome was the same. 

Without missing a beat, VI locked his wrist in a vice grip. Swiftly following, she twisted, like his bones were merely durable plastic. Within seconds, the once bold man screamed as he crumpled to his knees, clutching his now useless arm. The room fell dead silent, save for his pained gasps.

VI flexed her fingers, then let out an exaggerated sigh. She looked around at the now-pale faces of the Chembarons.

“Now,” she said, as if nothing had happened, “I’ll ask again.”

Everyone was silent. She raised the cigarette to her lips. 

“Got a light? I got a few things to say.

Scrambling hands shot into pockets, shaking fingers struck matchsticks and flicked open lighters. A half-dozen flames danced in the dim room, offered up to her like desperate tributes.

“That’s more like it.”

…

“Wipe that stupid smirk off your face,” Sevika grumbled.

“Hey, I know you’re senile-” Sevika hit her on the back of her head “-But I just saved your ass in there.” VI snarkily responded. 

The two were walking across the market as VI was picking out the ingredients for Powder’s favourite dish. VI found herself being very smug about her little rounding-up escapade at the chembaron meeting. Hell, Sevika was proud as hell too. Would she ever let VI know? No. She didn’t need to know, for her ego’s sake.

The gambler proceeded to lean against a wall, watching VI with a half-lidded gaze as she packed up the last of her groceries. The flickering streetlight overhead bathed the pair in a dim green glow, the buzz of Zaun’s lower markets humming around them.

"You’re real reckless," Sevika muttered, lighting a fresh cigar. The ember flared as she took a slow drag, her tone carrying equal parts amusement and warning.

VI smirked, tossing a handful of berries into her mouth before answering. “That’s precisely why the old man left this responsibility to me.” She chewed thoughtfully, then shrugged. “Guess he knew I was a loose cannon.”

“Guess that’s where the brat gets it from.” Sevika huffed out a laugh, the smoke curling in the night air. VI’s smirk twitched, her easy confidence faltering just slightly. She knew exactly who Sevika was talking about.

 “Hey, I know you guys got off on the wrong-” Her gaze flickered toward Sevika’s stump, and her frontal lobe stopped working for, like, half a second.  “-foot.”

Sevika hit her. Not so hard, but enough to make VI flinch and laugh through the sting.

“Yeah, yeah, I deserved that one,” VI muttered, rubbing her arm.

“Just keep the wild thing under control. If she causes trouble, it’s on you.” Sevika exhaled, shaking her head.

VI sighed, finally meeting Sevika’s gaze.  “I know. I know.” Then, her lips curled into something softer, almost fond. “Wouldn’t take it any other way, though.”

She gathered the last of her groceries and slung the bag over her shoulder. As she walked off, Sevika watched her go, taking another slow drag of her cigar.

– SIDE : BLUE –

“Alright, Caitie, feast your eyes on my babies!” 

Caitlyn wasn’t sure what she had expected when Jinx had talked her into taking a tour of her explosive devices with manic enthusiasm, but it probably should’ve been this. The once neat and quaint room was cluttered with half-finished contraptions. Jinx was practically vibrating with excitement, spreading out a collection of small, cartoonishly painted bombs upon her bed. Each was decorated in bright colours, some with grinning faces, others with exaggerated frowns. Jinx grinned, arms spread wide like a showman unveiling a masterpiece.

“This one’s called ‘Claggor’ cuz it packs a real punch!” Jinx demonstrated, throwing a fist into the air. “And this one is ‘Mylo’ cuz it’s all bark and no bite. Aka, a smoke bomb.” She picked up a round, blue one with a sad face. “And I call this cutie-pie, Ekko! He can cover a whole block in glitter! Great distraction for when you wanna blast someone in the face. Plus, it’s just super pretty.” Jinx cradled all three bombs closely, like a proud mother.

“You have… quite the creative mind.” Caitlyn arched her brow but as unnerved as she was, she was equally intrigued. “How do you even make them function?”

Jinx’s grin widened. “I thought you’d never ask! So, basically-”

The door swung open before she could finish.

Vi stepped inside, stopping dead at the sight before her- her little sister, giddy as ever, showing off an arsenal of explosives to Caitlyn, who looked somewhere between fascinated and deeply concerned.

Vi blinked.

Then blinked again.

“…Am I interrupting something?”

“Violet! Look, look, I’m showing Caitie all my super cool bombs!” Powder spun around, beaming.

“Right. That’s- that’s great, Powder.” Vi’s breath hitched, trying her hardest to not freeze up upon the sight that invoked rather unpleasant memories. Powder didn’t mean it, she couldn’t know. But, Janna, still. There was a beat of silence, Vi’s eyes flicking over the weapons with an almost imperceptible show of unease. Then, she swung her bag of ingredients up and grinned. 

“Hey, didn’t I say I’m making your favourite tonight? You excited?”

“Yes! It’s been foreverrrrr!!” Powder gasped dramatically. The teenager hopped up and down around her big sister in a joyous frenzy. Vi chuckled, ruffling her hair. “It has, so let me start a fire.”

From the side, Caitlyn tilted her head. “What’s your favourite meal?”

“Mac ‘n’ cheese with extra bacon. Vi makes it the best.” Powder turned to her, eyes shining. Caitlyn’s brows furrowed and then widened like an idea just hit her.

“I can help cook! You know, as payment for letting me stay here”

Vi shot her a sideways glance, caught between surprise and suspicion. “Yeah?”

“Of course. I’d feel bad not being helpful.” Caitlyn nodded. 

Besides, how hard could it be?

…

Very hard.

Vi stared in mild horror as Caitlyn fumbled with a block of cheese, her knife skills alarmingly unpolished. Meanwhile, Jinx cackled from her bed, kicking her legs as she watched Caitlyn struggle.

“You have cooked before, right?” Vi leaned in.

It wasn’t a lie if she just… didn’t answer, right?

“Piltie. Tell me you’ve cooked before.” Vi was clearly growing more exasperated.

“…I can learn.” Caitlyn frowned at the shredded mess of cheese in front of her. Vi sighed, shaking her head. Jinx, however, found this all very amusing as she still giggled from her bed. This is so much better than bombs.

Vi eventually ended up forcibly shooing and promptly banning Caitlyn from touching anything related to food preparation for as long as she resided in their home. At least they all got to have a nice, edible meal at the end of the day.

Chapter Text

—SIDE : ROYAL BLUE—

Empty.

The Kiramman estate felt quieter than usual. The absence of their daughter, Caitlyn, had turned its halls into an echoing reminder of their unfulfilled argument. 

Tobias Kiramman paced the sitting room, his fingers clenched behind his back. Cassandra sat rigidly in her chair, unmoved by his restlessness. The fireplace crackled, its warmth failing to thaw the ice in her voice.

“This is disgraceful,” Cassandra said, at last, her tone clipped. “Our daughter has abandoned everything we built to run off into the filth of the Undercity.”

“She didn’t abandon us. She’s just… staging a protest.” Tobias sighed. He wasn’t surprised by his daughter’s defiance. She always did have a strong heart, but it didn’t make his heart ache any less.

“A protest against our decision,” Cassandra snapped, “to uphold the integrity of Piltover. To protect our family’s legacy. What does she do instead? Gallivants off with criminals and guttersnipes, as if they matter more than her own blood.”

Tobias turned to face her. “Caitlyn has always wanted to help people, Cassandra. She sees injustice and acts. Maybe we should’ve been more willing to compromise.” Cassandra’s fingers tightened around the armrests. 

“You want me to apologize for refusing to compromise with criminals? For upholding the law?” She shook her head, lips pressed into a thin line. “She’ll come crawling back once she realizes she isn’t cut out for a life with miscreants.”

“And if she doesn’t?” Tobias let out a slow breath.

Silence stretched between them. Neither wanted to admit it, but they weren’t sure of their daughter’s return. Was there a way to stand their ground without possibly letting their daughter into a trap of mortal danger? That’s when Tobias’ eyes fell to the small brass bell on the table with a name engraved in the gold. 

The two parents exchanged a few looks before a final exasperated sigh from Cassandra that essentially communicated the ‘go ahead’ to her husband. Swiftly, he rang it, and within moments, she appeared. 

Lest.

Her sharp eyes and twitching ears betrayed the concern she had attempted to covet.

“Sir?”

“Find out where Caitlyn is,” Tobias didn’t hesitate in his orders.

“Discreetly,” Cassandra added in a hiss. Lest studied the two for a moment before nodding in obedience, as their maid turned to leave, Cassandra stood abruptly, beginning to pace around the room. Her stone face twitched with the unbearable fear brewing in her stomach.

“She’ll return to us.” Tobias sensed her fear and tried to console it. Though, his voice was quiet. Hesitant, even. No one was comforted. Cassandra said nothing, only folding her arms as if bracing against a chill only she could feel.

Fire continued to crackle in the grate, yet the room was still so cold.

—SIDE : BLUE—

“Time to put the old mechanic skills to use!”

Jinx wiped the grease from her hands, smearing more onto her already-stained pants. The old punching machine in the arcade had seen better days, its wires frayed, its mechanics jammed from years of neglect. Still, she was determined to fix it. It’s not like she cared that much for it. Though let’s be real, she did love a good test of strength. 

But for Vi. Vi liked hitting things. A lot. So she’d love this! Since Vi wasn’t exactly thrilled by her bombs and stuff, she figured this was a better use of her abilities.

“There we go, ya stubborn piece of junk.” Jinx grinned to herself as she tightened the last bolt. She was so engulfed in her work that she didn’t notice the presence growing closer behind her.

“Jeez— you deaf or something?”

She stiffened at the voice behind her. Turning, she found Ekko leaning against a nearby arcade cabinet, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

“Little man!” Jinx chirped, her tension melting away. “Bout time you paid me a visit, jerk!”

“You could’ve visited me too, you know.” Ekko scoffed.

“Oh, yeah, at your super secret base, huh?” She stretched her arms behind her head. 

“But hey, I’ll let it slide. If you give me your professional opinion onnnn…” The teenager stepped aside, dramatically presenting the machine. “This! Fixin ‘er up! Vi’s gonna love it.”

Ekko looked in awe at the contraption. Not only was it ‘fixed’ - hell, it looked better than when he first saw it. A small smile crept onto his lips as he ran his hands across the metal in admiration. He had almost forgotten how much he loved tinkering, himself. Firelight duties, and all. 

But, then, something shifted in him. 

“VI, huh?”

“Yeah, this is so her style, right?” Jinx hummed. Ekko gave a brief, half-hearted smile and nod before wrapping his arms together. If she’s happy, it should be fine. VI loves Powder, she won’t do anything to hurt her.

But, it wasn’t fair. VI had been working with Silco and terrorising the firelights for years. And, now, she just switches on a dime? Ekko didn’t buy it. No way. 

It seemed his aggressive internal monologue wasn’t so internal. His foot was tapping in a hostile manner and he was practically chewing his bottom lip.

“Space boy! What’s buzzing in that cluttered box you call your mind?” Jinx grinned, pushing her cheek onto his shoulder as she gave him a mischievous look. He’d be lying if he didn’t say the tiniest bit of relief permeated his mind upon seeing how relaxed and care-free Powder was. But it wasn’t enough. 

“Powder, we need to talk about VI.” Ekko exhaled sharply. 

“Aboooout how she’s the best?” Jinx tightened up, eyes darting around. Her stomach sunk with the weight of what she knew this conversation was going to be about.

“I… I can’t just act like she wasn’t working for Silco for all these years. How she constantly tried to destabilise the firelights on his orders.” Ekko shook his head, his fists tightening.

Powder frowned. “I- I know. But—”

“She was so violent. Barely even human. Even Silco’s own crew was afraid of her. And the worst part is…” Ekko took a breather. “She wouldn’t ever kill us. Like she took pleasure in leaving us alive, barely hanging on.” His jaw tightened as his rambles spilt out, eyes darkening.

“Sounds like she was trying to spare you guys. Like she was making the best out of a bad situation…” Powder retorted, her eyes unable to meet the teenage boy’s. What was he asking her to do? Her lip trembled.

You don’t get it. You-” He cut himself off at the peak of his boiling frustration, running a hand through his hair. “ You didn’t see what Zaun became under her hands.”

Jinx studied him for a moment. She wanted to say something comforting. Something smart. But the truth was, she just… didn’t care. Not in a cruel way. Not because she didn’t care about Ekko.

But, for Janna’s sake. She was in prison for five years. She died and was brought back to life. Everything is so brittle and Powder had never been more sure of that than in this moment. She couldn’t afford to care.

“You’re mad at her,” she finally said. “I get that.”

“Do you?” Ekko swiftly replied.

“I get that bad things happened, Ekko, I really do. B- But, she’s my sister. I’m going to stick with her, and she’s going to stick with me. A-And, that doesn’t have to be at your expense.” Jinx took a break to think, twirling the screw between her fingers.

“Hell, she was practically your sister too, wasn’t she? She was the one who fought for you. For all of us. In fact, remember how we met?” Jinx tried to alleviate the depressing mood by prodding the boy’s cheek. And, just for a second, Ekko’s expression shifted.

—SIDE : FADED GREEN —

Ekko was backed against a wall, three older kids closing in.

“Not so tough without your little gadgets, huh, rat?” one of them sneered.

“I don’t need gadgets… I can take you all on!” Ekko clenched his fists, throwing up some makeshift fighting poses. He was insanely screwed. But it wasn’t even his fault. They were shit-talking Benzo and… And Ekko couldn’t just let them get away with that.

Little did the stranded boy know that a saving grace was awaiting him from the rooftops. A small, scrawny girl with an arsenal of deadly and lethal weapons! She leapt (crashed) down from the roof, standing boldly before the little man.

“Bullies are the worst. So take this!” The unknown blue-haired girl declared, slamming a metal canister onto the floor by the attackers.

FSSHHH!

Smoke burst out from behind the dumpster as Powder threw the tiny explosive between them. It landed with a pitiful pfft, releasing a burst of blue powder into the air. No fire, no explosion. Just a harmless poof.

“Huh.” She blinked.

Ekko, his would-be attackers, and this random girl took a second to process what had just happened. Then, the biggest kid turned toward her, face twisting with confusion.

“What the hell was that?”

The girl, ever the quick thinker, pointed behind him, in a display of master manipulation.

“Uh- lookout, a giant rat!”

…It wasn’t very effective.

Instead, he marched toward her. “You think that was funny, freaks?”

“Oh, come on, I don’t even know her!” Ekko groaned.

“Hey, I could’ve let you eat it! Be grateful!” The girl winced.

“For what!?” Ekko grumbled.

Before they had time to bicker further, the older kids began to close in, forming a tight circle. The girl gulped, shifting closer to Ekko. She could tell he was getting ready to bolt, but there wasn’t much space to move.

“This is bad,” she muttered.

Ekko shot her a glare. “You think?”

One cracked their knuckles. Powder braced for impact.

And then-

WHAM!

A blur of pink and muscle slammed into the eldest, sending him stumbling.

“Outta all the kids ya could’ve picked with.”

Their hero landed in a crouch, fist still raised.

The attackers barely had time to react before she spun, grabbing another kid by the collar and slamming him into the alley wall. The third one hesitated- then took off running.

“Crazy bitch,” he spat, before stumbling away after his friend.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” She stood there for a moment, hands on her hips, watching them flee. The smaller girl immediately ran to embrace her, the two giggling and hopping around.

Ekko just stared.

“Vi, I almost had it! D-Did you see that?” The girl beamed.

“You sure did, Powder!” Vi smirked, reaching over to ruffle Powder’s hair.

Powder? Vi?

Vi turned to Ekko next. “You good?”

Ekko blinked, still processing what had just happened. “Uh.” He glanced at the wall where Vi had thrown the other kid, then back at her. “That was… really cool.”

“Stick with us, kid. We don’t let bullies win.” Vi grinned, offering him a hand. Powder punctuated her statement with a sharp nod.

Ekko took her hand, letting her pull him up. For a second, he just stared at her, completely mesmerized.

Powder noticed and made a face. “Yeah, that’s my sister! Don’t forget it!”

“No way you two are related…” Ekko mumbled, still in a trance. Powder punched him. Ekko punched her back. Vi laughed, throwing her arms around the two.

“C’mon, c’mon. Let’s get outta here before they come back with friends.”

As they walked, Ekko found himself glancing at Vi again. He’d never seen someone fight like that. Not just with strength, but with confidence. Like she knew she was going to win. Like she was unstoppable.

He wanted to be like that someday.

— SIDE : BLUE —

“C’mon, don’t act like you weren’t her second biggest fan,” Powder teased, arms crossed over her chest. A smirk pulled at her lips. “Me being the first, of course.”

“It’s not that easy.” Ekko let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. 

“Probably isn’t…” Jinx mumbled, twirling a loose thread on her sleeve. For once, she wasn’t dodging or deflecting. Just sitting with it.

The old arcade hummed around them, the neon lights casting their shadows long against the scuffed-up walls. Outside, Zaun still groaned under the weight of its scars- wounds from a war neither of them got to choose.

“You don’t have to love her, y’know. I mean, I do. That’s kinda my whole thing.” She twirled a screwdriver between her fingers. “But you? You get to figure out how you feel about her, no one else.” Jinx continued, gaze flicking up.

“Still, I am rooting for you both.” Her voice softened, losing its usual teasing edge. “And if you guys do makeup, you’ll totally be an unstoppable duo.”

She bumped her fist against his shoulder, flashing a lopsided grin. It earned her a quiet chuckle from him.

Unstoppable, huh?

Ekko shook his head, looking away. “I don’t know, Jinx.”

Jinx leaned in and flicked his forehead.

“And that’s fine,” she said simply, stretching her arms behind her head. “We can figure it out. Besides, Vi is the least of your worries when I’m around.”

“You’re exhausting.” Ekko exhaled through his nose, almost a laugh. 

“You came to find me. Sooo, who’s fault is this, really?” Jinx smirked.

Ekko rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, he reached out and nudged her arm with his fist, like old times.

Jinx blinked, her grin faltering just slightly. The past five years had stolen a lot from both of them, but maybe some things didn’t have to stay broken.

“Well, well,” she mused, rocking on her heels. “I don’t blame you. I did save your life back then.”

“And in what universe was this?” Ekko raised an amused brow.

“You don’t remember my bomb totally blowing up and melting those guys’ faces?” Powder rolled her eyes as if this very blatant lie was the unfettered truth.

He let her, just shaking his head. “Yeah… no. You almost got both our asses kicked if I remember correctly.” The firelight shoved her playfully with his shoulder. Jinx merely looked aloof, like her ignoring him would rewrite the history of that very embarrassing day.

“Ugh, let the past be past!” Mind you, she brought it up “Now, are you gonna help me get this thing working or what?”

Ekko’s jaw tightened at the mention of her, but this time, it wasn’t anger. Not exactly. Confusion, maybe? Regardless, he exhaled, then stepped forward and knelt beside her.

“Alright, let’s see how bad you messed it up,” he teased.

“Please, I’m a professional at breaking things. This is clearly amateur work.” Jix feigned offence with a hand to her chest. Ekko shot her a knowing look. She stuck her tongue out at him and passed him a wrench. As they got to work, side by side, something unspoken settled between them.

Maybe this was wrong. Maybe Ekko was weak-hearted for letting himself indulge in such frivolousness with the sister of someone who's supposed to be his enemy.

Or maybe he was just a damn teenager who was tired of carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Maybe he just wanted to hang out with the one person who never expected anything of him.

…He missed Powder.

—SIDE : INDIGO —

Dear Diary,

Wait, this is an official document. I should probably be more formal. 

To whom this may concern, Argh. Wait, that’s too much. I want this to feel human. Hold on, why am I writing my entire inner dialogue down?!

Caitlyn huffed and sighed as she hunched over her notebook. She really wished she had some semblance of how to go about this. She was always great at arranging prior documented evidence. Documenting it herself, however, was more of a challenge. To make matters worse, or better, VI had just walked in. And Caitlyn was 90% she was judging her for how intently the young Kirraman was staring at this unassuming pocket book.

“Is that some really good porn, or somethin’?” VI resumed whatever she had come into the room to do, but not before throwing Caitlyn for a loop with an unhinged comment. Porn? This was so much more important.

“If you must know-” The topsider began.

“I really mustn't,” VI interjected.

“—I’m documenting evidence of the conditions of Zaun. Once my parents come to their senses, I’ll present it to them, and the council! And, boom, reformations can begin! My plan is airtight- Why are you looking at me like that?” Midway through her perfect explanation, Caitlyn noticed VI looked as if she was holding back laughter.

“Oh yeah? You gonna waltz up to the council out of nowhere? You’re funny.” The boxer snickered.

“Obviously snide comment aside, my mother will arrange a meeting. She has that authority considering, you know…She’s a council member herself.” The last part of her sentence was proclaimed somewhat smugly as the young Kirraman expected VI to be impressed by her status. I mean, it was the key to her plan working. To her surprise, the Zaunite was anything but.

VI stared at Caitlyn with a mix of disbelief and horror. 

“A councillor’s daughter—?! No, no, you’re messing with me.” VI’s hands instinctively slammed the cupboard she was opening. 

Okay, was this a secret I was meant to keep?!

Caitlyn blinked, taken aback by VI’s reaction. “Is it really that shocking?” she asked, folding her arms.

VI let out a dry laugh, running a hand down her face. “Uh, yeah. Oh, Janna, an enforcer was one thing—”

Caitlyn narrowed her eyes. “I’m not an enforcer anymore.”

“But a councillor's daughter? Living with me, Piltover’s worst nightmare, and my sister, a wanted criminal? You don’t think it screams ‘set up’!?” VI scoffed, pacing in a tight circle. 

“It’s not like that. I refuse to help Piltover hurt your people anymore. I don’t know how many times I can tell you!” Caitlyn shot up, slamming her foot down to impose some level of integrity on her words. It was true, she didn’t know how else to convey to VI she was trustworthy. VI shot her a sceptical look. 

“Here, if you don’t trust me and think I’m some sort of spy…” The taller woman picked the pocketbook off the desk and handed it over to the boxer. VI responded with a puzzled and distrustful look.

“It’s not much, but you can see what I’ve written so far. And, if you still think I’m suspicious afterwards.” Caitlyn bit her lip, looking away. “I’ll go.”

VI’s sneer held still, eyes dashing between the woman and her book. Begrudgingly, she peeled the page open.

…

—SIDE : MULBERRY —

Smog and mud curled around Lest’s boots as she moved cautiously through the winding alleyways. The deep green glow of lanterns danced against the damp walls, casting long, shifting shadows.

She was running out of places to search.

Caitlyn Kiramman had been missing for days. Piltover’s golden girl, heir to one of the city’s most powerful families, had vanished without a trace, leaving behind nothing but worried parents and unanswered questions. And Lest had been ordered to find her. She had expected Caitlyn to be lost. Maybe in danger, caught in the wrong part of the Undercity with no way out.

What she didn’t expect was to find her standing on a rusted balcony, looking happier than Lest had ever seen her.

Caitlyn leaned casually against the railing, her deep blue coat unbuttoned, her face relaxed in the soft neon glow. She was talking, laughing, even, with a muscular, red-haired woman. They were holding some sort of… book?

Lest ducked behind the cover of a nearby awning, narrowing her eyes as she studied the stranger. She was unmistakably Zaunite, rough around the edges, dressed in patched leather and worn gloves, a confident smirk playing on her lips. Her stance was easy, yet guarded, like someone always ready for a fight.

Yet, Caitlyn, a girl Lest had always known to be wholeheartedly socially awkward and near friendless, seemed perfectly happy by her side. 

Caitlyn wasn’t running. She had chosen this.

Lest exhaled slowly, stepping back into the shadows.

She could still do it. Still, call out, still tell Caitlyn her parents wanted her home. But what would that accomplish? Caitlyn was born into a world of rigid expectations, of carefully drawn lines. And yet, here she was, standing beside a woman who didn’t fit into those lines at all. And she had never looked more at peace. What would forcing her to be somewhere she didn’t want to help?

Lest lingered a moment longer before turning on her heel, her decision made. They never said she had to make sure she returned. Just that she had to ensure she was safe. And, she most certainly was.

She would tell them what they wanted to hear. That Caitlyn was safe. That she had been found. But she wouldn’t tell them where. Because for the first time, Lest understood. 

Caitlyn was already home.

Chapter Text

— SIDE : BLUE —

Clank. Clank. Clank.

Powder was running. 

Running for her life. 

The cold, damp alleys of Stillwater twisted and stretched in an endless and suffocatingly cruel puzzle. Her heart pounded like the crack of a misfired grenade, her breath sharp and ragged. The guards were behind her, massive, armored figures — twice her size — their heavy boots slamming against the stone floor.

She darted around a corner, skidding on the wet ground, her fingers scraping against the walls as she tried to steady herself. Chains rattled in the distance, and the flickering torchlight cast monstrous shadows that clawed at her from all sides.

"THINK YOU CAN RUN, GIRL?" One sneered, his voice dripping with cruel amusement. She gritted her teeth and pushed forward, sprinting down a narrow passage. The air was thick, suffocating, or maybe it was the panic that was choking her lungs. Either way, she couldn’t breathe.

She was nearly out. Nearly safe. She was so close. So close.

The light at the end of the hall burned like salvation, golden and warm, just within reach. Her crooked fingers stretched desperately toward it, her breath ragged, her legs screaming from the sprint.

Then,

Cold. Crushing.

A thick hand clamped around her wrist, squeezing hard enough to bruise.

And just like that, she had been swung off her feet. Suspended in the air. Terrifying masks glared down at her, predator to prey. Faces unmoving.

Powder screamed. She wrenched, twisted, her pulse hammering in her ears. But more hands followed, grabbing, yanking, wrapping around her limbs like shackles.

She thrashed, her mind a storm of panic, but their grip was relentless. A hand - massive and calloused- latched onto her chin, wrenching her head up until her neck ached. A shadow loomed over her, its breath hot and rancid against her face.

"DID YOU THINK IT’D BE THAT EASY?” The words rumbled through the dark, thick with cruel amusement.

The child shrieked, voice shrill with pure hysteria. She threw her limbs wildly, kicking and sinking her teeth into flesh. Even when blood filled her mouth, 

the hands did not let go. Their grip only tightened.

“VI! VI— VI SAVE ME! PLEASE! I’LL BE GOOD, I PROMISE. I PROMISE, PLEASE!”

“VI!”

-

“VI!”

Jinx gasped, her chest heaving, drenched in sweat. Her arms flailed wildly before she realised… 

There were no chains. No guards. Just her dimly lit childhood bed. Her breath hitched, her throat tightening as sobs tore from her lips. Instinctively, she brought her bandaged hand to her mouth, biting down to stifle the reaction stirring in her that only ever brought trouble. 

"Powder!" Vi’s voice was sharp, filled with worry. 

I woke her up.

The older sister, whose chest she had been cuddled into, was now looking down on Jinx’s face with pure frantic worry, grabbing her shoulders tightly. 

"Hey, hey, what's wrong? Pow, what’s wrong?" With a ginger touch, Violet pulled Jinx’s hand from her mouth, her thumb rubbing over where the teen had bitten into herself. As soon as the gag left her lips, all Powder could do was blubber, gripping onto Vi’s arms like a lifeline. Caitlyn was now knelt beside them, too. Her hand rested softly on Powder’s back, offering quiet reassurance.

"’M scared… Don’t wanna go back.." Her voice broke, burying her face against Vi’s chest. Without missing a beat, Vi’s hands cradled Powder’s head as she stroked Jinx’s tangled blue hair. 

"I’m so sorry, baby. I’ve got you. Not gonna let anyone hurt you." The older sister’s voice was soft, yet so stern, like it was crackling with an unspoken rage.

Jinx hiccupped, her breath uneven. "Promise?"

"Promise," Vi swore, holding her taut. She then pressed a loving kiss to the top of Powder’s head. Caitlyn was silent, but she still made her presence known as her spare hand brushed Jinx’s bangs out of her face.

The child let out a shuddering breath, her body still wracked with tremors. Even so, she let herself fall deeper into the warmth of her big sister’s arms, tears dampening her vest. She hoped Vi wouldn’t be upset. 

Maybe minutes, maybe hours. Jinx’s tired eyes were soon all cried out, beginning to blink slowly until she had entirely fallen to slumber. The only movement that came from her was the steady rising and falling of her chest from her slightly ajar lips’ breaths. Vi delicately laid the girl’s head on her pillow as if she were handling the most precious treasure in all of Runeterra.

Well, actually, she was.

— SIDE : INDIGO —

The morning had definitely been quite a start. Sleeping on a couch was already unfamiliar territory for the young Kiramman. Sure, she had pretty much grown accustomed to sleeping on everything but a bed since stepping into Zaun, but a feeling of unease couldn’t help but accompany her to slumber this time around. To make matters worse, poor Jinx had woken up with such a fright. 

Seeing how kindly VI held the small girl stuck something between confusion and warmth in her heart. Yes, she knew VI cared about Jinx. They were family, and that’s to be expected. But… There was just something about the rather brutish woman revealing herself to be softer and softer than she acts by the day. Caitlyn couldn’t be too surprised, still. Her entire journey here felt like a crash course in how to realise just how wrong her beliefs about the world were. 

Buuut now she was just sitting listlessly. VI and Jinx had all the go ahead to run their daily routine across the undercity, but Caitlyn had been reprimanded to house arrest. In VI’s words ‘I’m not bailing you out if you get your ass kicked, so just stay here’. And, as much as Caitlyn would’ve loved for her defiant spirit to push back, she was somewhat glad. 

She couldn’t get the times they had been attacked out of her mind.

Or maybe it was just how the sisters’ faces had looked.

For them, it was easy to take lives. But it wasn’t for her. Caitlyn didn’t even like to kill bugs. And maybe she should be happy. It’s not like they had a choice to be the way they are. And the young Kiramman knew she ought to be grateful for how often they had saved her life.

But Jinx’s smile, as blood splattered on her face. VI’s eyes as she heard bones crack.

…As her hand laid on her chest, her breaths quickened. Would she have to become like that the longer she stayed here? She’d probably be better off just staying inside. She wanted to help, but— 

“Hey, sugar. Pull yourself up. We’re going on a trip.” Somehow, in her self-pitying daze, the taller woman hadn’t even taken notice of the fact that VI had returned home. Or even that fact that she was approaching Caitlyn, not until her shadow had entirely encompassed her, at least. Bashful, Caitlyn shot up, realising she was basically sprawled out beneath the boxer. And, if she weren’t the observant detective she was, Caitlyn almost would’ve missed the remnants of a small smirk on VI’s lips.

“Don’t sneak up on people… And where are we even going?” Caitlyn huffed, though she did very poorly hiding her surfacing excitement at the proposition.

…

“Here’s where the magic takes place.”

A pungent reek of oil and sweat stained the dingy hallway as the two trudged through. VI had brought her to a grand door, of which Caitlyn could ever so slightly see through the glass. It seemed there was a round table on the other side and some silhouettes. But that’s all she could make out.

“Cover your face.” VI nudged, hands resting on the knob, almost expectantly. Caitlyn softly sighed before she pulled the hood of her worn-out cloak lower over her face, shifting uncomfortably as she trailed behind VI into the meeting place.

The detective made sure to take mental note of how the crime lords scrambled to fix themselves once the bruiser/family woman/diplomat - it was hard for Caitlyn to pin her down - stepped in. Once they entered, the boxer gestured with her head to a chair in the corner, presumably for the young Kiramman; meanwhile she took the seat at the head of the table for herself; sat with her legs lifted and crossed on the table, radiating an air of authority that commanded the attention of entire room.

“So,” Vi drawled, her voice rough but steady, “I think we all know why we’re here. Things are changing fast in Zaun, and it’s in everyone’s best interest to make sure we don’t end up at each other’s throats. You wanna keep your businesses running, and I want to make sure those businesses don’t screw over the people down here. So, let’s talk.”

The Chembarons exchanged glances, some intrigued, others skeptical. Caitlyn kept her posture relaxed, but her mind was racing, long before she had time to even realise why. As she scanned the room, something in her memory flickered.

Wait a second… 

Not all of them…

But a few definitely had familiar faces.

The man in the top hat? Chross, was it? He shared an eerie resemblance to a Lord of a minor house that ‘disappeared’ years ago. The blonde woman? Margot, was it? Caitlyn swore she could be Salo’s long-lost sister.

What on earth is going on here? Why would anyone leave the life of a House member to be… here? Leading crime syndicates in Zaun?

“Who’s the chick in the corner?” One of them, the yordle, muttered. Oh crap, Kiramman hadn’t even realised how intensely she had been starring. Would it be too late to try and pretend like she was just observing the scenery… The very bleak and dingy scenery. Thankfully, VI dozed past his comment entirely, continuing to speak as if she hadn’t even heard him. Surprisingly, he didn’t seem to put up much resistance (or any at all). 

Throughout the rest of the meeting, Caitlyn tried to keep her head down, but she could feel the weight of realization pressing down on her. It just didn’t make sense. Thank gosh for her impeccable memory. She’d have to blurt all this out to her journal the second she wasn’t in the direct eyeline of people who would probably have her slaughtered if they thought she was transcribing them. In the meantime, she let her thoughts pace around like an uptight butler. 

Maybe she should ask VI. Maybe she hadn’t even known?             Usually, she’d be wary of how that’d set off the clearly unstable woman who seemed to have a hatred for everything on the topside of the bridge. Finding out that these people she already clearly didn’t like were Piltoveran? Yeah, she’d like to see how a meeting would go after that.

But… Ever since that day on the roof, Caitlyn felt she could… What was the right way to say it? Relate to VI more? They weren’t friends or anything. No, far from it. The boxer was still a smug, loudmouth. Frankly, that just wasn’t her type. But she couldn’t deny how relaxing it was to have a conversation with someone her own age for once. That can be okay, right?

“Boss,” one of them said, snapping the young Kiramman back to reality. “You think we should trust you? You, of all people?”

“I think you don’t have a better option,” VI smirked a cocky smile, bearing teeth. 

Yep. Still a smug, loudmouth. 

The meeting continued, voices rising and falling in tense negotiation. Caitlyn continued to ponder. 

— SIDE : RED —

“So… let me get this straight. You think some of them bastards are from big fancy houses in Piltover?” VI scoffed, hands in her pockets. 

“Yeah. Some of them I recognise. Some went missing years ago.” She replied, bouncing her knee as her brows were buried deep in thought.

“Hah, should’ve known. Ain’t your city was too pristine for that kind of filth?” VI sighed, sinking back onto her elbows as her legs swung over the ledge, shooting Caitlyn a knowing glance.

“It’s just… why? Why would anyone leave Piltover? They already have everything.” Caitlyn bristled but didn’t rise to the bait. VI laughed, short and humorless. 

“Dunno if you haven’t noticed, but it’s much easier to take advantage of people down here than up there. Cheaper, too. Here? No one gives a damn what you do, long as you have the muscle or moola to back it up.” VI shot her a sideways look, lips tugging into a smirk that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“You- You think they come here because… it was easier to exploit people? You really think they’d throw everything away for that?” Caitlyn stared at the girl with something close to horror. 

“Don’t think, I know. Chembarons aren’t the only ones. Though, I’m surprised they had the gall to work their way up the chain like that.” She tilted her head, watching Caitlyn like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. The topsider opened her mouth, then closed it again. “Seriously, don’t act like the big wigs screwing us over is news.” VI chuckled, turning forward to the landscape.

“It is news! T- To me, it is!” Caitlyn’s voice had that tight, frustrated edge it always got when something didn’t align with her sense of justice. “Corruption, a few bad apples. That’s one thing! But- But this?” Her hands twitched as if trying to grab the air in vexation.

“Ya know, the full saying is ‘one bad apple spoils the bunch. ’” VI shrugged, watching Caitlyn with something almost like amusement. Caitlyn ran a hand through her hair, borderline heaving as her irises darted around her sclera.

“I just. I don’t understand how it could get like this.” She mumbled, to which VI’s lips parted wide to let out a hack of a laugh. Caitlyn shot her a glare, a mixture of offense and embarrassment.

“Don’t mind me. There’s just something equally satisfying and dissatisfying about someone learning something you’ve known your whole life.” VI picked at her nails as she spoke noncomittally. Yeah, obviously it sucked. But acting like this was a breakthrough was a bit much, no? The boxer couldn’t help but be entertained by the Piltie’s mind breaking so easily. 

Caitlyn didn’t reply to that. VI was still looking forward. Well, talk about an uncomfortable situation. Guess it was up to her to alleviate the stress with her maximum charm. Lethargically, VI’s head swung back, bringing the topsider back in her gaze. 

Something about that face.

“Look, I get it. You probably grew up thinkin’ that the people who made these noble laws and systems actually upheld them diligently and that we were just the miscreants running about and flouting shit.” VI began with a lighthearted sigh. Kiramman looked desperate to rebuke. VI gave her time to. Time to try and deny her. When it came down to it, Caitlyn’s lips fell shut as she shook her head. VI took that as her cue to continue.

“Truth is, those rules ain’t nothing but a power play. Think of it as a cycle. You exploit the ones down below and push them to their extremes. You then make said extremes against the rules. Now, you can tell everyone that the Fissure folk are dangerous and justify exploiting them even more. Simple maths.” The shorter woman spoke so matter-of-factly, waving her hands around to accentuate her argument. 

For once, there was no swift, out of touch, ill-timed, albeit passionate, response from Caitlyn. No denial, no pushback. Now, she was looking away from VI, an unreadable expression layering her face as her hands rested in between her thighs. She looked as if one touch would make her explode, akin to a ball of rubber bands around a watermelon.

“...Not trying to pass judgment on you.” VI sighed once more. “I worked with the bastard who worked with these bastards. Pot callin’ the kettle ‘n all that.”

“What… Do you think Silco’s goals were? Did he want power?” Caitlyn finally whispered, her head tilted downwards as her brows furrowed. The question caught VI off guard, her own eyes flickering around in response.

“I mean… I guess? Not necessarily for himself. He thought,” VI paused “Making Zaun equal to Piltover would make things better.”

It nearly did, didn’t it? He almost got his 'Nation of Zon'. He would've, if it weren’t for me.

Would that have even changed anything? Would it have made up for the brutality? Would we actually be able to heal?

What other ways were there?

“Do you miss him?” 

Like a cleaver through a lamb’s thigh, her voice sliced through VI’s cluttered thoughts. Miss him?

Do I?

“I… I dunno.” Slipped out between quiet, shaky breaths. The two’s eyes lingered upon one another, picking up the conversation where their mouths had left it.

“I don’t know why I asked that. Sorry.” Caitlyn returned to kneading her lap and chewing the inside of her mouth. VI didn’t know why, but that made her chuckle once more. Not a teasing or sardonic noise like before - perhaps, genuine? 

“Nah. I needed this. I think I know who I gotta speak to.” With a grunt, the boxer pulled herself up from off the perch of the ledge. Kiramman looked up to her, eyebrow raised. Once VI’s hands manoeuvred to brush the dust from her coat, she offered them to the topsider. 

“But first, lemme take you home.”

— SIDE : GREEN —

A long day. A damn long day. One would think that with Silco gone, everything would start to get better. Rookie mistake. Nothing ever stayed peaceful.

With aching shoulders, Ekko tightened his grip on his staff as he stalked up the tree that gave the Firelights hope every day. Relief settled as his gloved hand reached out for the office that sat on the peak branch. The one safe haven he had—

Words couldn’t describe the feeling of dread that bubbled in his stomach when his eyes laid sight on what hid behind that door. A girl. A girl he knew all too well.

Leaning back in his chair. Flicking through his notes about his creations.

“Man, I don’t get how you or Pow even begin to understand—”

CRACK!

Without a second thought, Ekko lunged with his tailpipe, swinging it at the woman’s jaw. Whilst she spluttered, he raised his arms for a second attack. They didn’t need to talk. There was nothing to talk about. As he brought it down, VI’s hand latched tightly onto the weapon, her grip unwavering, as always. He had been held by the very same steely grip one too many times for his liking.

“How the hell did you find this place?” The leader hissed. VI exhaled, looking contemplative. 

“I got my ways. But no one else knows.” She assured. “I didn’t come here to fight,” she said, her voice softer now. Ekko clenched his jaw. The unspoken acknowledgement wasn’t lost upon either of them.

Ekko scoffed. “Oh, now you care?” He stepped closer, the light catching the fury in his eyes. “Where was that care when you were running around with him?”

“I know, I know...” All the boxer could do was look away, her throat tightening with guilt. 

“If you did, you never would’ve sided with him.” Ekko shot back, finally wrenching his pipe from her hands. Why was he even doing this? Why did he feel indebted to her? Was it because of all the times she spared him? No, that was just a twisted power play. Violet was long gone. All that remained in her place was a sadistic clone.

“Ekko… I lost everything. I didn’t—” 

“You had me!” The boy bellowed, his voice cracking. 

VI met his glare with a solemn gaze, her throat tightening as the weight of his words pressed down on her. How could she explain it? How could she put into words what that day had done to her? How it had torn her apart and stitched her back together into something unrecognizable? That operating table wasn’t the first time she was torn apart.

Ekko’s voice wavered, raw with unspoken hurt. “Powder might be fooled, but I know Violet died a long time ago.” His fingers curled into fists, his shoulders tense with barely contained rage. “Now, leave.”

VI inhaled sharply, gripping a stray gear between her fingers, rolling its jagged edges against her calloused skin. “You’re right,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “That day, Violet did die. She burned along with the corpses she couldn’t save, turned to ash in that fire.”

Ekko flinched. She saw it. That brief recognition in his eyes.

“But…” VI continued, her voice steady despite the storm inside her. “I think Powder held onto some of her ashes. And maybe… maybe her embers are still there, still trying to reignite.”

A bitter silence settled between them, stretching like a chasm neither knew how to cross.

“You don’t gotta like me, kid. Hell, I’m not asking for that. I know things can’t go back to the way they were. But I want to help. And I know you do, too.” She looked him in the eye, the fire in her gaze matching the one in his chest. 

“Maybe it’s too late. Maybe I’ve got no right to ask.” VI exhaled, forcing a small, tired smile. “But if not for me, then for the undercity. And for everyone who deserves better?”

Ekko’s breath hitched, but he said nothing. He was always stubborn. He had no interest in giving VI the benefit of slipping behind his defences. Not so easily. Even if she had a point. Even if the Firelights were useless without her strength and connections. And even if he missed her like hell.

Because, dear Janna, he missed her.

— SIDE : BLUE —

“Alrighty, so you pour about five cups of sugar,” Jinx chirped.

“Surely, that can’t be right.” Caitlyn looked concerned at the devastatingly sugary concoction that the escapee was whipping up. Jinx was no chef herself, but in the crisis that was the topsider’s non-existent cooking skills, she supposed she had to take up the mantle. And what better time than when VI wasn’t home to push them both out of her ‘sacred space’.

Three disasters into their little baking experience, a loud thump sounded right outside their door. With an inhumane quickness, Jinx’s neck - almost snapping in the process - swivelled around to the source. Her eyes flashed a bright pink as her hand fumbled for the nearest weapon she could snatch. Caitlyn’s eyes widened; about to interrupt when, in a streak of light, Jinx raced to the door, opening it cautiously.

“Vi!?” The teenager gasped, facing the sight of her sister - knocked out - on the bottom of the steps. Drool leaked from her lips. What the heck!? She didn’t smell of alcohol, but she had a bit of blood staining her nose…so what was going on? Ah, It didn’t matter.

Gingerly, Jinx lifted her (very heavy) sister up onto her shoulder. She heaved the slumbering body back into the room before laying her out on their bed. Kiramman hurried to her side, cocking her head.

“VI?” Her voice was sharp with worry as she knelt beside her, her gloved hands pressing against Vi’s clammy forehead. “She’s burning up.”

Powder crouched down beside her, shrinking into herself as she looked to Caitlyn for answers. The taller woman put a finger to her chin, pondering for a moment. “Is this about the shimmer intake… I swore she mentioned something like that?”

Powder shot her a bewildered look. “Crashing?”

“It’s like, VI takes shimmer on a repeated basis to keep up with her body. Maybe she needs a recharge?” Caitlyn proposed. The younger girl made an ‘O’ shape with her mouth in understanding. But, where on earth would they get it? And, if that was the case, then Vi should really be keeping some on her! Jeez!

“Maybe Sevika knows?” Jinx muttered, tucking the blanket around Vi.  “All I know is Vi needs rest right now.”

Caitlyn folded her arms, still watching Vi with concern. “I think Sevika’s at the bar. I could go up and ask her?” Jinx hummed in agreement at the idea, pulling herself up to sit on the edge of the bed. Caitlyn nodded, heading up the stairs and out the doorway. Jinx let out a small breath as the door clicked shut. Then, hesitantly, she reached for Vi’s cheek, brushing away the hair that concealed the left side of her face.

“You big dummy,” she whispered. “Always pushing yourself too hard. But, if it were me, you’d get all lecture-y.” She giggled. Vi stirred slightly, leaning into her hand, but didn’t wake. Powder leaned back, pulling her knees up to her chest. The room was silent.

Somewhere along the line, without thinking, Powder was humming. The tune had buried itself deep in her memories, one she hadn’t thought about in years. The lullaby their mother used to sing. Her voice was quiet, wavering at first, but as the melody carried on, it grew steadier.

“I ask of you a penny,

My fortune, it will be”

Vi’s breathing slowed, her tense expression relaxing just a little. Powder watched intently for a while, the lullaby floating in the air.

“I ask you without envy

We raise no mighty towers,”

Eventually, she found herself growing sleepy. As if it were second nature, she curled up to Violet, just like she used to when they were kids.

“…Night, sis,” 

Chapter Text

— SIDE : RED —

Darkness ebbed at the edges of her mind, curling like smoke. VI’s breath hitched as she clawed back into consciousness, her body heavy and sweaty. A low, metallic ringing pulsed in her ears, and her limbs ached like they'd been torn apart and stitched together wrong. They kind of had been.

Where is she?

Her eyes opened slowly, the ceiling swimming above her in dull shades of gray. VI stirred, a soft creak of the sheets giving her away.

Powder.

Curled beside the bed, chin resting on the mattress, her tiny arms wrapped around her lanky legs. Her head bobbed slightly with each slow breath, a mess of blue hair falling onto her face. She was asleep, but just barely. She looked peaceful. VI’s shoulders relaxed at this, but ever so slightly.

Then, there was the long-legged Piltie, who looked as if she didn’t know what to do with her hands. She was looking at something that definitely wasn’t VI. Just as her eyes began to follow hers.

“You up, dumbass?”

The boxer blinked, watching Sevika emerge from the far side of the room, arms crossed, towering as always. Her presence was grounding and aggravating all at once.

“What happened?” VI rasped. She mentally noted the fact that whatever had happened was drastic enough to make Sevika willing to step foot in a closed space with a topsider and not pummel them.

“You passed out,” Sevika said plainly. VI gritted her teeth, sitting up inch by inch. Her muscles screamed in protest. Her chest ached like something inside had been ripped open and stitched back shut with fire. 

“I’m fine now,” she muttered. “Don’t need a lecture.”

“You’re not fine,” Sevika replied coolly. “You passed out from shimmer withdrawal.”

The boxer stiffened, eyes quickly darting to the girl softly slumbering beside her.

“I’m not taking that shit anymore. Not with her around.” How far from herself had she become in those five years? How often had she lost her mind, just to find it at the bottom of an alleyway with blood on her hands that wasn’t hers? She couldn’t afford that anymore. She didn’t want to afford that. 

Sevika let the silence sit for a beat. Then she stepped closer, her voice quieter now. Heavier.

“I’m not saying it for my health.” She finally spoke. 

VI’s brow furrowed.

The older woman sighed.

“You remember the surgery?” Sevika said, voice low and deliberate.

VI’s eyes narrowed further, her head tilting slightly, suspicion crawling across her face like a shadow.

“The version they used on you... It wasn’t stable. It was early. Crude.” The older woman went on. “Thing is, it needs maintenance. You start running low, and your body starts tearing itself apart.”

VI stared, unmoving. Her mouth had gone dry.

“I was... a test subject?” she whispered.

“You were dying,” Sevika snapped, defensive now. “You think Silco would’ve just left you in a gutter?”

“You—” VI’s voice cracked as she forced herself upright, ignoring the sharp sting that lanced through her body. Rage burned hotter than pain.

“You didn’t think to tell me?” Her voice climbed, tight with disbelief. “You let me believe I was just... addicted? That I was weak? Broken?” She was trembling now, hands clenched into the sheets like she could tear the truth right out of them.

“Was I just another experiment to you bastards? Just ground zero?”

“That’s not—” Sevika started, softer this time, something akin to guilt bleeding into her voice. A rarity for the woman.

But VI wasn’t listening. Not anymore.

“GET OUT!”

The scream echoed through the room like a punch to the chest. Powder stirred in her chair, mumbling something incoherent, but didn’t wake. Maybe that was for the best.

Caitlyn stood frozen, mouth slightly open, caught between wanting to move and not knowing how. VI didn’t care. She couldn’t.

Sevika lingered for a moment longer, jaw clenched, then turned and walked out without a word.

Silence fell like a shroud. Hunched over, the boxer’s breath ran ragged, betrayal thick in her throat.

She turned her gaze to Powder: still sleeping, curled in that same awkward position, still somehow her beneath the chaos. A quiet ache swelled in VI’s chest.

“I never fucking asked for this,” she muttered. The words dripped with contempt. Disgust.

Her eyes drifted to the nightstand, where a vial of shimmer stood, glowing faintly in the low light. That cursed, glistening purple. A chain disguised as salvation.

Maybe this was her punishment. To be shackled to the very violence she swore to escape. She wanted it for Powder. For herself. 

She wanted to scream. To throw a fist through a wall. To fight back.

But her body wouldn’t move.

Too weak.

Instead, a broken sound slipped from her lips - a small, pathetic sniff. Then, a choked whimper. Then a sob.

How useless she felt..

A gentle hand settled on her shoulder, grounding her. Caitlyn had knelt beside her, wordless, eyes full of something too soft to be pity.

Comfort? Or insult?

VI didn’t know. Didn’t care. It was all she had.

And it was warm when everything else felt so cold.

— SIDE : BROWN —

“Goddamnit. God fucking damnit.”

Sevika lit a cigarette with shaky fingers, the flare of the flame casting shadows across her face. She took a long drag, exhaled hard, and started walking.

The streets were quieter than usual. Or maybe she was just noticing them more.

Her boots echoed down narrow alleys slick with chemical runoff. Neon buzzed overhead, cold and flickering. Somewhere in the distance, someone shouted. She ignored it.

She didn’t know where she was going. She never did when she felt like this.

VI's voice still rang in her ears - raw, wounded, furious. It invoked something in the woman, something she wasn’t aware she could still feel.

Regret.

Sevika clenched her jaw, dragging another hit from the cigarette, smoke curling past her lips like a ghost she couldn’t exorcise.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

She’d lived most of her life with a simple code: survive. Fight. Don’t feel more than you need to. And never, ever let yourself care too much.

But somewhere along the way, the lines had blurred. She didn’t even remember when. Maybe it was staying in that kid's room when she begged. Or maybe it was seeing glimpses of a person she had lost long ago in the half-grown girl: too much anger and not enough protection.

The gambler stopped at a broken railing and stared down over the city from one of the higher walkways. The shimmer factories glowed in the distance, a sickly purple bloom that pulsed like a heartbeat. She watched it in silence, her reflection barely visible in the fogged-up metal.

“I should’ve told her,” she muttered aloud, her voice barely audible over the wind.

Why didn’t she?

Right. Silco had advised against it. Was that just it? Did Sevika really grow to have no judgment of her own? She didn’t have answers. She had loyalty. She kept things running. Kept people alive or dead - depending on what the day asked of her.

Was there a time when the woman was something more? If there was any moment for her to return, it was now. Now, there were no orders. Silco was gone. The old world had collapsed in on itself. What was it all for? A cause? Hopping off one sinking boat onto another.

The gambler threw the disintegrating cigarette to the ground and crushed it under her boot.

She hated this. Hated the silence that came with being alone. Hated the ache in her chest that wouldn’t stop tightening no matter how much she tried to shake it off. One would think, after so long of it, she’d get used to it. This had become her life, and she had willingly chosen it.

But she couldn’t pretend that the people she loved didn’t exist. That she felt no obligation to them. Because that love leaves marks. Unsightly ones that you can’t erase, no matter how hard you try to hide them.

Sevika leaned on the railing, closing her eyes against the sting of it all. She’d thought that part of her was long gone. Thought she’d buried it with the old world. But, as of late, it’s been clawing its way. And what scared Sevika most was that she wasn’t entirely averse to it. 

Being weak was the worst thing she could do. But how long can one pretend they’re someone they aren’t.

[“I hope you aren’t thinking of changing, ‘Vika! I like you just the way you are, you got that?”]

A bitter laugh left chapped lips. Would she still say that?

“I’ll do your kids better, Fel. I promise.”

— SIDE : INDIGO —

VI had bit the bullet and drank up.

The room was still. Only the soft, rhythmic breathing of Powder, who had been moved to the bed, echoed.

The boxer was now sat upright, staring blankly at the wall. Her arms rested limply on her thighs, shoulders slumped forward, tension radiating off her in waves. The empty vial of shimmer still sat on the nightstand, untouched, glinting like some cursed relic of the past she couldn't outrun.

The door creaked open.

Caitlyn stepped in quietly, her footsteps light and cautious, like she was stepping onto sacred ground. She didn’t say anything at first, just stood there with that quiet, gentle presence that VI had grown to find maddening and reassuring all at once.

“You okay?” Caitlyn finally asked, though the answer was obvious.

VI let out a breath that was almost a laugh. “What do you think?”

Caitlyn hesitated, then moved to sit at the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb her.

“So… Shimmer, huh?” she said softly. The woman had all the filter of sewage water in Zaun. It made the shorter chuckle softly. “Yeah.”

There was a long silence. Powder shifted in her sleep, murmuring something unintelligible.

“I wouldn’t forgive her if it were me,” Caitlyn grumbled at last. “Got a mean streak, huh?” VI hummed.

“Well, it’s a horrible thing to do. Especially to a child.” Caitlyn asserted. VI’s head dropped slightly, eyes falling to her hands. She flexed her fingers like she was trying to feel something real. 

“Yeah. Janna knows I’m angry,” VI muttered, her voice low. “I thought I’d finally get to start over.” Her words hung in the air, quiet and heavy.

“But… I think I understand now,” she added.

Caitlyn looked at her, surprised. “You do?”

“I was dying because I was being reckless. Thought I could take on the whole world by myself.” VI’s gaze flicked to Powder, lingering there with guilt and something softer. “Even after everything, I didn’t learn a damn thing.”

Caitlyn frowned. “But VI… it was your body. Your choice. They took that from you.”

“I know,” VI whispered, her voice shaking. “I know.”

“But I’m not innocent either. When things fell apart, when it came down to it... I did the same thing to Powder. I just got lucky.” Her voice cracked, quiet and ashamed as she dragged a hand down her face, exhaustion etched into every line.

Caitlyn looked to her feet, looking like she was deep in thought. Was it the same? Was Silco’s care for VI the same as VI’s care for Powder… Surely not. 

“They still should’ve told you.” Murmured the taller woman.

“Hah! Silco was a coward. Sure he knew I’d tear him apart before I even tried to understand.” VI cackled, sounding disappointed more than anything.

They sat like that for a while. The silence wasn’t awkward. It was shared, like a mutual agreement to rest between battles.

Eventually, Caitlyn spoke again.

“Maybe there’s a way to help,” she said.

VI raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “You think they can suck it outta me or somethin’?”

“Not quite… But, from what I’ve seen, Zaun’s brimming with secretly brilliant minds. Potential scientists who could change the world if given the chance.” Caitlyn grinned. VI gave her an encouraging look, whether she intended it to be or not wasn’t known, but the woman took it as a sign to continue regardless. 

“And not just for you. No, think bigger! For the entire Undercity,” Caitlyn gestured grandly, a spark in her eyes. “Shimmer might actually have the potential to become something more… medicinal. Refined. I mean, that’s how most medicines start, right? Drugs. Dangerous until they’re not.”

“Huh… not the worst idea I’ve heard.” She leaned back, arms crossed, mulling it over. “But there’s one problem. I’m not exactly Zaun’s poster girl these days. Doubt anyone down here’s lining up to help me out. Can’t really blame ’em either.”

“Then…” Caitlyn leaned forward, thinking aloud. 

“You’ll need to do something. Something big. Something that earns back everyone’s trust!”

“Earn back who’s trust?” 

The two’s heads snapped to the source of the voice.

A sleepy Jinx was rubbing her eyes from her bed, her legs swinging as they hung off the edge.

“Ya got my trust.” She mumbled, still half in slumber. VI and Caitlyn shared a look before giggling and shaking their heads, much to Jinx’s confusion.

“Well, that’s one person!” Caitlyn beamed.

— SIDE : RED —

“The first step to fixing your mistakes is… well, fixing them.”

“Pretty sure that’s the second step. First is acknowledging ‘em.”

“And, suddenly, this became a one-person conversation!” 

By morning, the two were already ankle-deep in Zaun’s grime. Trekking through vendors barking over steam vents, alley kids darting between scrap heaps, and that ever-present hum of danger just under the surface. 

Kiramman might be incredibly stiff and borderline socially inept, but her mind worked in entertaining ways. Yesterday, she had proposed she and VI put their ‘skills’ together and do some detective work. Using her knowledge of the backdoor alleys to Zaun and her fairly competent knowledge of biology combined with Caitlyn’s… Uh, she actually didn’t know what she was bringing to the table. Guess it’d be a surprise. 

“Investigating the remainder of the illegal shimmer operations… Shouldn’t be too hard.” Caitlyn whispered under her voice, surely expecting VI to not have heard. She did. Was she… excited? How cute. VI was anticipating feeling a lot more irritated in her presence than she was.

But that meant nothing.

As expected, the boxer led the way, weaving through side streets with the ease of someone who knew every rusted bolt in the place.

“Smell that?” VI muttered, stopping near a half-collapsed archway.

Caitlyn scrunched her nose. “All I smell is rot and regret.”

VI grinned. “Bingo. That’s shimmer.”

Caitlyn crouched, eyes scanning the cracked pavement. “There’s residue here. Recently used,” she said, fingers brushing over a faint purplish smear on a pipe.

“Someone’s cookin’ shimmer nearby. And not the kind you mainline. This batch smells off. ‘N unstable. We’re talkin’ more bang than buzz.” VI added.

“You think it’s being turned into a weapon?” The crouched woman placed a curled hand on her chin.

“Weapon or leisure, it ain’t going to any good.” VI cracked her neck whilst rolling her shoulders.

“Let’s follow the trail then!” Caitlyn said, standing up and adjusting the rifle on her back. “Unless, of course, you have a better idea?”

“Mm. Not so much a better idea, but a suggestion.” VI smirked. “You think you can go the rest of this little field trip without cringing every three seconds?”

“I am not cringing!” Caitlyn defensively shook her head.

“Yeah? Even when you saw that kid with the gash on their leg?” VI teased.

“I- Well, okay?? That was disgusting! And I stand by it.”

What a hoot. The shorter woman playfully nudged her before resuming the lead.

They moved deeper into the maze of alleys, VI guiding, Caitlyn following. From the outside, they just seemed like two women enjoying each other’s company. And maybe that's what it was.

…VI should probably find Sevika when they were done.

— SIDE : BLUE —

Everyone was doing something.

Why should she be the odd one out?

The day had been an absolute mess.

Jinx had woken up feeling an itch in her fingers, the kind that only slamming a bunch of crude, explosive metal together could fix. Thing is, she was low on scraps. So, she did what any reasonably invested teenage girl would do for their hobbies. Began looking for dumps to raid.

After tearing apart half a dozen old tech shops and rusted-out factories looking for scrap, she was getting nowhere. The clockwork components she was after? They’d probably already been scavenged. She was totally about to give up, but then the sight of an old, rickety warehouse that was probably abandoned basically screamed at her to scavenge. Who was she to ignore the call of destiny? 

“Just a quick peek… What’s the worst that could happen?” she muttered to herself, one of her crooked smiles creeping across her face.

And so, she slipped through the broken gate and into the factory’s crumbling exterior, her boots crunching over shattered glass. Inside, it was eerily quiet, dust swirling in the filtered light. The silence gave her a weird sort of thrill. She could almost hear the hum of the shimmer running through the walls, like a ghost of power trapped in the metal.

She moved deeper into the factory, drawn by the promise of forgotten scrap. Halfway down a long corridor, her gaze caught the gleam of something shiny in a storage crate. Jinx grinned, darting toward it.

That’s when the door slammed shut behind her.

A cold voice echoed from the shadows, “Well, well, look who’s wandered into the wrong part of Zaun.”

Jinx’s heart skipped a beat, her fingers twitching for the gatiling gun slung over her hip. A handful of Chembaron workers stepped forward, their bulky frames silhouetted against the dim factory lights. They didn’t look happy. Neither was she, so they could join the club.

She raised an eyebrow, eyes narrowing. But said nothing. One of them sneered, tapping a heavy metal pipe against his palm. “Not until you explain what you’re doing here, little girl.”

Bright lights began to flash violently over Jinx’s vision. Their shadowed faces became the sharpened edges of enforcer masks. The pipe, a baton. 

Jinx didn’t wait for the next move.

In a flash, her hands yanked Pow-Pow from her side to her front in one swift motion. Without hesitation, she pressed the trigger. The barrels spun in a dizzying haze; rapid-fire whirring sound filling the air as she shot out the lights overhead. Sparks rained down in a brilliant arc, plunging the room into near-darkness.

“Last warning! Get outta my way!” she called out, her voice breathy with excitement. But the workers weren’t backing down. 

In fact, they were silent. Lying so still on the floor. Oh, were they tired all of a sudden? Now they didn’t want to play with the ‘little girl’?

SLAM

The door at the far end of the corridor flew open. Instantaneously, Jinx swung herself and, by extension, her gun to face it. Bullets spat at the frame before ceasing almost immediately.

“Vi? Caitie?” Powder cocked her head, lowering the weapon, but still keeping a grip on it.

Jinx blinked slowly. Violet and Caitlyn had stepped into the fray. Though, Vi was shielding the topsider from the misfire. After furrowing her brows for a bit, what happened finally solidified in the teenager’s mind. She gasped and released the gun from her grasp, holding her hands before her defensively. 

“I-I didn’t mean to! I-I was protecting myself—” 

“It’s okay- It’s.. What are you doing here, Pow?” Her sister’s heavy boots hit the concrete with a thud; Jinx’s body tensed. She couldn’t speak; biting her lips as if her mouth contained some sort of venom. 

Powder backed away from Vi’s outstretched hand, her eyes darting between her sister and Caitlyn. The weight of the moment was sinking in. 

She’d almost shot Vi. 

She swallowed hard, a knot tightening in her throat.

“I- I didn’t mean to,” she stammered, her voice a little shaky. Her eyes flicked to the fallen Chembarons on the floor, their bodies still and unmoving, the space now filled with the smell of burnt metal and ozone. "I was looking after herself," she added, her voice lowering, face the picture of vulnerability. Her sister’s gaze softened.

“I know, Pow... I know." VI paused, looking down at the deceased workers. Then, she shot Caitlyn a quick glance, and the two exchanged a brief, unspoken understanding.

Jinx didn’t know what to say. She never normally felt like this. Shame infesting instead of pride at her survival. That wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Her stomach twisted. VI straightened up and began to look around. On instinct, Powder copied. As she followed, they eventually fell on a sight that made her heart flutter painfully.

Kids. Lots of them. Cowering on a floor above them. Looking down. Or, trying not to look. Powder’s eyes squinted before looking back to the bodies, and then to her sisters. Caitlyn held a similar look of shock.

She blinked rapidly, a lump forming in her throat. “Why are they here?” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. Vi would know. She always did.

Her face was an enigma to the ex-convict. All Jinx could gather was that she was angry - from her eyes glowing an especially bright shade of purple. 

“They've been kidnapped. Forced to make shimmer.” It sounded like she didn’t trust her own words. 

Jinx’s gaze fell to the kids again. It was uncanny. It felt like she was staring at herself from a telescope. Her lip quivered as a memory surfaced. Being small and expected to carry materials twice her size. Her ankle being shackled to others. 

“They... need help, don’t they?" Her voice cracked, and for a fleeting moment, she felt small again, a child lost in the rubble. Quite childishly, she began rubbing her eyes with closed fists, snivelling into her sleeves.

“They do, but we’re gonna help them, okay?” Violet could finally perch a hand on Powder’s shoulder. She let her. Following, her thumb brushed at her hallow cheeks, wiping tears. Slowly, Pow nodded. She thought she heard some of the other kids crying, too. But she was too scared to look back.

“I’m sorry… I wasn’t trying to shoot at you.” Powder mumbled one last time. Vi nodded. She understood. She always did. Powder didn’t deserve her.

“Haha… And I thought you said you were a better shot than me.” Despite being obviously shaken up, the young Kiramman did her best to lighten the mood. Of course she would; she was a dork like that. So was Vi. But it made the girl smile a bit… Just a pity smile. 

Because Jinx was most definitely a better shot than her!

Chapter Text

— SIDE : RED —  

It seemed Powder had been cheered up a bit. For now. 

But the growing tightening in her throat couldn’t be ignored. Even as she pulled the corpses out of sight, VI couldn’t help but feel sick.

It’s not that her sister had killed innocent people. No, she didn’t doubt that it was self-defence. But Janna, it was looking like second nature to her. VI knew all too well what that comfort with death eventually leads to. 

I don’t want her to be like me.

Alas, there wasn’t any time to hesitate. She’d, unfortunately, have to push her worries back for another time.

“I’m gonna get those kids outta here, m’kay? You stay down here.” VI pressed her forehead to Powder’s, who mumbled in soft agreement. She then gestured to Caitlyn before setting forward.

With that, they moved deeper into the factory. It reeked of rust and shimmer, thick chemicals clinging to the back of their throats. Carefully, Caitlyn stepped over a broken pipe. Her rifle was slung over her shoulder, her eyes scanning the shadows that stretched across the wide floor. Light filtered through the shattered roof in jagged beams, cutting through the gloom like knives.

The machinery was quiet now, long since shut down, but the damage shimmer had done was everywhere. Cracked tanks. Spilled residue. Makeshift sleeping spots tucked into corners. And then, soft shuffling. VI held up a hand. Caitlyn froze. 

A pair of eyes peeked out from behind a rusted crate. Then another. Three kids, maybe four. Thin. Dirty. One of them had shimmer-burn scars on their arm, still raw.

"It’s okay," VI said, kneeling as her voice softened. "We’re here to help."

The kids didn’t move right away. They looked scared, confused. VI expected their horrified looks to be directed towards her, but they seemed more weary of the tall woman behind her, even with nothing explicitly screaming ‘Piltoveran’ about her.

Eventually, one stepped forward. A boy, surely not even double digits. It was a drawn-out action, like he feared every movement would result in some sort of harm. Once both feet were in front of him and no pain came, his shoulders began heaving; he threw himself into the boxer’s arms.

More followed suit, grabbing onto any part of VI they could whilst whimpering in a heartbreakingly low tone. VI, stunned at first, eventually lifted her bandaged hand to stroke the weakened children comfortingly. She couldn’t even focus on her prior hatred. All she could focus on was the vulnerable beings falling into her arms. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Gonna get you all out of here, I promise.”

VI crouched low, her voice soft, steady, the way you’d talk to a scared animal that might bolt. She kept her hands visible and unthreatening, fingers spread in a peaceful gesture. The kids huddled together in front of her, eyes wide, limbs thin, some of them trembling. The smallest, a girl with grease-streaked cheeks and tattered sleeves, clutched the edge of her oversized shirt like it was a shield.

VI hadn’t even noticed Caitlyn slip away into the side room. She figured she was searching for clues or collecting anything that might lead them back to whoever had been running this nightmare. Smart girl. VI didn’t have the bandwidth for that right now. Her focus was here, on these kids who looked like they hadn’t slept properly in days.

Silco was a lot of things. Unhinged, manipulative, and dangerous. But this? Using kids like this? Leaving them in some half-collapsed factory to breathe shimmer fumes and rot? VI tried not to think about it too much, but the rage sat there like a lump of coal in her gut, glowing hot and quiet. She couldn’t let it take over. Not now. These kids needed calm. Safety. Not anger.

“What matters is getting you somewhere safe,” she muttered under her breath, just loud enough that the nearest kid glanced up at her. Taking a deep breath, she called out in a singsong tone, soft and sweet like sugar melting in tea.

“Hey, sugar? I need to get these little ones out of here. Mind if we swing back around later?”

Caitlyn’s head poked around the corner of the doorway, one brow raised, a faint smudge of dust across her cheek. She was carrying what looked like two makeshift bags, full to the brim with papers, vials, and a handful of strange shimmer canisters.

“No problem,” Caitlyn replied, adjusting the strap on her shoulder. “I’ve got most of what I need for now. Though it wouldn’t hurt to come back with a camera and get some proper documentation.” She sounded pleased with herself despite it being such a desperate and foreign situation. VI couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips. Not like her confidence wasn’t justified, looking at the bags of evidence she had managed to gather in such a short time. 

Buuuut not that the boxer would tell her that, either.

VI stepped forward and held her hands out, palms open. The kids hesitated for a second, glancing at each other, then one by one, they reached for her. Tiny fingers wrapped around her calloused ones. Another leaned into her side without a word. The children clung to her like she was a lifeline. She adjusted her posture so they could walk alongside her, nice and slow. No rush. No loud noises. Just steady steps and warmth, the way she wished someone had done for her a long time ago.

“Let’s get you all a nice warm drink. Maybe even something sweet, huh?” She said gently, casting a quick glance at Caitlyn. The topsider seemed more than pleased with the idea. Then, VI peered over the railing, looking down at Powder.

“Hot cocoa if we’re lucky.” She said, loud enough for the teenager to perk up and crack a small smile.

…

— SIDE : BLUE —  

Hot Cocoa…

VI had brought all the kids to the last drop and personally served them - and Jinx herself - a nice warm cup of it. Then, she and Caitie went to drop them off somewhere. Jinx didn’t know where, but she was 99% sure it was better than that stupid factory.

The teenager tried not to think about the kids too much.

She had seen the chains. Thin metal, dull and rusted, looped around skinny ankles. Her eyes had lingered longer than she wanted them to. Then, down to her own ankle. It was reflex more than choice. The skin there was clean, faded scars barely visible. 

But the weight was still there. The memory of cold iron. The raw bite of restraint. The way it had made her feel like nothing. There had been too many memories, standing all day with that god-awful chain. Trying desperately to carry near her body weight whilst also trying to avoid…

She wouldn’t think about it. Simple.

"Hey."

The voice came from the doorway, steady and familiar. Violet’s. It cut through the low hum of The Last Drop like a knife through velvet. Jinx looked up slowly, already knowing who it was before her eyes even confirmed it. There she was, standing in the entrance with Caitlyn beside her, both outlined by the sickly green glow of the overhead sign. 

"Heyyyyyy," Jinx called back, her voice lilting with mischief. She tilted her head to one side with a crooked, adoring smile and gave a lazy little wave. Rough fingertips tangled into the older woman’s ceruse-colored hair, ruffling it without care. The gesture was familiar, bordering on affectionate; Powder giggled, high and breathy. 

“Psst,” The elder sister leaned in slightly, lowering her voice so that only the teenager could hear her. “You mind if you and I go have a little chat?”

Her tone was warm, gentle. She even smiled, soft around the eyes in that way she always used to when Powder was scared or unsure. There was no pressure in it. No threat. Just an invitation.

But Jinx’s heart sank.

The drop was fast, almost physical. Like the floor had slipped out from under her, and she was falling straight into old instincts. She didn’t know why, but something in her chest began to tighten.

She tried to hide it with a grin, but her shoulders tensed. Her brows knit just slightly. It wasn’t much, but Vi caught it immediately. She opened her mouth to say something else, to take it back maybe, or to soften it even further, but the words blurred together in Jinx’s ears.

Her mind had already started to race.

“…Okay,” she said quietly. It was barely a whisper, but it was the best she could offer.

She didn’t smile this time. She just turned toward the back hall, her pace slow and uncertain. Not quite fleeing. Not quite leading. Just… moving.

…

Now, they were standing in the hallway.

The walls felt too close. The air was tight and stale, like it hadn’t moved in years. A single flickering light buzzed overhead. Jinx tried not to flinch every time it sputtered.

Vi leaned against the wall a few feet away, arms crossed, not in frustration but like she was bracing herself for something. Caitlyn was inside the room per request. Out of sight, out of earshot. Just her and Vi.

Nothing bad’s going to happen. That’s what Jinx kept telling herself. Over and over. Like it was a shield. Like maybe if she said it enough, it would be true.

“Pow,” Vi started, her voice gentle. That kind of quiet she only used when she was scared. “We need to talk about earlier. About what happened at the factory.”

“They were gonna shoot me first,” Jinx said. Her words came fast, empty. They sounded like a line she’d said so many times it didn’t even belong to her anymore.

Vi didn’t speak right away. She inhaled slowly, like she was trying to steady the conversation before it slid off the rails.

“It’s not just about that guy,” she said. “It’s all of it. Every time things get tense, you don’t even blink. You kill.”

Jinx’s jaw clenched. She stood suddenly, the motion sharp. Her fingers twitched at her sides. “You weren’t there. He would’ve killed me. I had to.”

“I know.” Vi’s voice was quiet now, full of weight. Her eyes were fixed on the ground like she couldn’t bring herself to look up. “I know.”

She hesitated. The next words were harder. “But there’s a difference between doing what you have to… and starting to enjoy it.”

“What’s wrong with that?” she snapped. “Killing them keeps me alive. I can’t like being alive now? Guess I can’t like breathing either?” Jinx turned away fast. Her shoulders shook, arms wrapping tight around herself.

“Liking killing is different,” Vi said, stepping forward. Her voice cracked around the edges, trembling as she tried to stay calm. “I’ve seen that road. I went too far down it. And it nearly tore me apart.”

“You think I want this? You think I chose this? I wake up every day wondering if today’s the day someone finally gets me.” Jinx shook her head, biting back a sob. “I see their faces every time I close my eyes.”

Vi swallowed hard, her steps faltering.

“I just… I don’t want you to get so good at surviving that you forget how to live, kid.”

“You don’t get it,” Jinx whispered. Her hands trembled at her sides, fingers curling into fists so tightly her nails dug into her skin. 

“I do, Pow,” Vi said, stepping in closer now. “The place you’re in… I’ve been there. I know what it—”

“You weren’t there!” Jinx screamed.

Her voice cracked so violently it echoed down the hall. Her eyes squeezed shut, her entire body tense and trembling.

“I was alone,” she choked out. “ You never came. I was in that place for five years, and you weren’t there.”

Her voice broke again, shattering under the weight of it. “You don’t get to tell me how to survive when you weren’t there to see me keep me safe.”

When she finally opened her eyes, her chest was heaving. Her expression was twisted, stuck somewhere between fury and fear. Her gaze fell on Vi.

And Vi…

Violet looked destroyed.

Her arms hung, lifeless, at her sides. Her face had gone pale, and her eyes were wide, glistening, like something had been pulled from her and never returned. There was no anger. No frustration. Only a pain that sat so deep it looked like it had always been there, waiting to be seen.

Jinx had seen people cry. She’d seen them scream. She’d seen them beg.

But this silence? This grief?

It terrified her.

“Don’t… look at me like that,” she whispered, voice shaking. “Stop it.”

Vi didn’t say anything.

Jinx took a step back. Then another.

She felt her heart slam against her ribs. Her breath caught in her throat. Her instincts screamed to run, to get away from the way Vi was looking at her. Like she was breaking all over again.

“I didn’t mean to…” Jinx whispered, barely audible.

She turned and bolted down the hallway before Vi could say another word. The sound of her boots echoed off the walls until it faded into nothing.

Vi didn’t move. She couldn’t.

She just stood there, alone in the hallway, breathing in the emptiness her sister had left behind.

…

Jinx didn’t know how long she’d been running. Her legs were sore, her breath shallow and ragged. The sky over Zaun had shifted to that dull greenish tint it wore before the lights came on, somewhere between night and not-night. The undercity always looked half-asleep at this hour.

She turned a corner, then another, ducked past the broken fencing behind an old storage lot near the bar. Her feet crunched on shattered glass and loose gravel. Her heart still hadn’t slowed.

She wasn’t crying.

Just breathing hard.

Just… breathing.

Something caught her eye through the misty haze. A shape slouched between rusted containers and twisted beams, mostly hidden by the crumbling shell of a building. It looked like a whale at first, beached and forgotten. But as she got closer, she realised it was metal. Curved. Hollow.

An old airship.

The kind that hadn’t flown in years.

Its hull was split open along the side like a torn-up can, scorched black in places, but still intact enough to stand. The cockpit windows were cracked, covered in dust. Paint peeled in strips, revealing what might have once been blue. She crept up to it, slow at first, then faster.

The broken ramp groaned as she stepped inside.

It was cold. The air tasted like rust and silence.

Jinx let her hand drag across a dented wall, then flicked on a small flare from her belt. The dim pink light painted everything in her colours. Shadows twisted and danced across the cramped interior.

"Well, better than that place, at least—” Before she could try to finish her half-hearted compliment, she felt a piece of the ‘floor’ crumble and fall into the seemingly bottomless pit below. Instinctively, the teenager yanked her foot back, cautiously gazing over the ledge. A small, lopsided grin formed. She then turned in a slow circle, eyes scanning the remains of the cabin. Torn seats. Cracked monitors. A pilot's chair that looked like it hadn’t been touched since before she was born.

“Hahah… I could work with this…”

— SIDE : RED—  

The old shoebox was buried deep in the corner of the room, beneath a pile of worn jackets and a busted toolbox. VI hadn't seen it in years. She wasn't even sure why she grabbed it, only that her hands were moving before she could think. The weight of the past felt heavier than the box itself.

She sat on the floor, back resting against the old dresser, the smell of rust and oil faint in the room. One by one, she lifted the corners of photographs that stuck together slightly from time and moisture.

The first was a picture of her as a baby, squirming in a pink blanket, her mother holding her like she was the most precious thing in the world. Her eyes lingered on her mother’s face. Strong. Soft. The kind of warmth VI had spent her whole life chasing since it vanished.

Another photo. VI holding a tiny baby, her toothy, gapped teeth proudly bearing as she did. Oh, she was so small back then. She still is.

Another. She and Powder on a beat-up couch, wide grins smeared with frosting from some birthday cake. Powder’s hands were in the air, mid-gesture, probably explaining something ridiculous. VI had her arm wrapped around her little sister like she was the best thing she’d ever held.

She swallowed hard.

Back then, the world had made sense. There were rules. Bedtimes. Hugs. Their mom would hum to them when it rained too loud, tell them stories to chase the scary monsters out of the room.

They were all alone now.

The door creaked softly. VI jolted ever so slightly. Caitlyn stepped inside, her expression cautious but gentle.

“Hey,” she said quietly, kneeling beside her. “You okay?”

VI didn’t look up. She nodded once, then shook her head. “She ran off again.”

“I know.”

“I said the wrong thing. Again,” Her voice cracked. “I always do.”

Caitlyn rested a hand on VI’s arm, just enough to ground her. She glanced at the photo on VI’s knee, the one with Powder in a helmet all too big for her.

“She loves you, VI,” Caitlyn said. “Even if she doesn’t know how to show it. Trust me, the way she speaks about you…”

VI pressed the heel of her palm into her eye, trying to stop the tears that were already spilling. Her other hand clutched the photo tightly.

“Ma would’ve known what to say. She always knew. I just…” The dam broke then. Her shoulders started to shake as she hunched over, tears slipping freely down her face.

“I’m sure she would’ve,” Caitlyn said softly, her voice barely more than a breath. She hesitated only a moment before wrapping her arms around VI, holding her close. Maybe it was too much, too soon for two people who still barely knew each other outside the battlefield. But VI didn’t pull away.

“I just wanted to keep everyone safe,” VI said, the words splintering as they left her mouth. “I couldn’t even do that.” Her voice fell to a whisper, so small it felt like it might vanish in the silence of the room. Caitlyn tightened her hold. The weight of all the failed promises pressed against her shoulders, cracking her collarbones. 

“VI, you’re strong,” she said, gentle but firm, “but you’re still human.”

VI turned her face slightly, just enough for Caitlyn to see her eyes; red, glassy, exhausted. But she didn’t answer. Not right away. Rather, her face crumpled as she pressed it back into Caitlyn’s shoulder, trembling like the truth had finally cracked something open. Her hands gripped tightly at Caitlyn’s clothes, knuckles white, desperate.

“I miss her so much,” she choked out. “I miss our mom. I miss Powder. I miss when things were easier.”

“I’m sure…I can’t even imagine,” Caitlyn whispered, her voice catching with emotion. She let her fingers gently stroke along VI’s back, slow and steady. She hesitated, swallowing her nerves before she continued. “You’re not alone. Not anymore. I’m not exactly the best at… this. But I’m here. I want to be here. For both of you.”

VI let out a shaky breath, something between a sob and a sigh, and let herself sink fully into the embrace. No one had held her like that in years. Not since her mother. Not since the world shattered beneath her feet. For the first time in a long time, she let herself be small. And Caitlyn, even unsure and out of her depth, held on tight like she wasn’t planning to let go. 

The photos lay scattered around them, tiny moments from a life that felt a thousand miles away. And even though VI’s chest still ached, the warmth of Caitlyn’s arms helped her breathe again. Just a little.

“You’re alright, sugar.”

— SIDE : BLUE —  

“Paint the walls. Rig up some traps. Hide all my gear.”

Jinx’s voice echoed off the hollow metal walls as she spun slowly on the walkway of the abandoned airship. Dust drifted lazily in the stale light from the broken skylight. Her boots crunched over scattered debris, old bolts, bits of shattered glass and what she was pretty sure was a bird skeleton. 

Nothing a little Jinx touch couldn’t fix.

“That corner’s good for the monkey bombs,” she muttered, eyes darting, mind racing. “And that wall’s practically begging for a mural. Bright pink. Big teeth. Yeah.” She pointed to different corners, already seeing the space not as it was, but how it could be.

Her hands moved with her words, painting invisible lines in the air. She danced her fingers along the edge of a panel and then banged it twice with her fist, grinning.

“Could wire up a turret over there. Keep the topside clear. Or maybe throw in a zipline straight out the hatch if I can find some damn cabling that isn’t falling apart.”

She giggled to herself, high and sharp.

“Or maybe… maybe a turret and a zipline. Two-for-one special.” But the laugh didn’t reach her eyes. It died quickly, swallowed by the emptiness of the ship. The echo came back slower than before, duller. Like, even the silence wasn’t playing along anymore.

“At least you’ll appreciate my messiness, huh?” Speaking to the cold air of the vast empty space in the ship. Jinx’s smile flickered. Her shoulders sank.

Lining each foot before the other carefully, the girl walked toward the cracked mirror at the centre of it all. The grime on the glass was thick, spreading over fractured lines. She wiped it away with the edge of her sleeves, smearing a cleaner circle into the haze. She pressed her forehead against the cold surface, eyes locked on the scattered image before her. It had been a while since she had looked at herself. 

She didn’t remember having such a deeply ingrained look of disdain etched into every wrinkle of her skin.

“Stop it. I didn’t mean to make her upset.” She blinked hard, trying to chase away the burn behind her eyes. Waiting for a beat, or a reply, she continued. “I know, okay! I… just didn’t know how to stop.” The words barely left her lips, like they were afraid to be said out loud.

She sank slowly into the chair behind her, pulling her knees to her chest. One arm wrapped tight around her legs while the other toyed with a loose wire from the ship's console, twisting it around her fingers until the copper cut into her skin. Her breath fogged up the glass in small, slow puffs.

“Well, what am I supposed to do, then? If I go back- I’ll just mess it up again!” Whined the blue-haired girl. Her lip pushed into a pout as her hands strung through loose strands of matted hair. She hated this. Things would be so much easier if she could just pick this stupid ship up and fly away.

“Where would I go?” She mumbled. “Why would I wanna go to that stupid pirate place?”

The metal groaned again.

Her head shot up, grip tightening around the rusted pipe she'd been fiddling with. She ducked low, slinking toward the edge of the airship’s interior, hugging the wall as boots thudded on the deck outside. Not Vi. Too heavy. Not Caitlyn either? This was someone else.

The door creaked open with a long, low squeal, and the shadow that stepped through stopped her cold.

Silco’s right hand.

The second their eyes met, it was like lightning in her chest. Jinx sprang to her feet, pipe raised like a blade, teeth bared.

"You!" she spat.

Sevika’s eyes widened as she took a step back on instinct, her metal arm lifting reflexively. Her flesh hand hovered near her hip like she might go for a weapon, even if she wasn’t carrying one.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Sevika muttered, looking around the dim space. Jinx didn’t lower the pipe. Her eyes darted with something feral in them, glistening along with the soft hum of cracked bulbs and the pale gleam of her hair.

“Stay back or I’ll beat you worse than the time before,” she hissed, shoulders twitching. 

“Goddamnit, maniac. If I were looking for round 2, you think I would've walked in like this?” Sevika said, taking a slow step back. “Hell, I didn’t even know it was you.”

Quick and calculating. Sevika was as tense as copper. But the older woman’s hand stayed empty, her voice calm. No shift in her stance. No lunge. Just a steady breath.

Eventually, the pipe dipped a fraction, just enough to show she wasn’t about to swing. Yet. “…Why are you even here?” she mumbled.

“Saw the lights. Figured I’d check in case something odd was going down. Guess it was, just not in the way I expected.” Sevika took a breath and rested her metal hand against the wall, giving the ship a solid knock.

There was quiet for a beat. Jinx’s grip loosened again. Sevika watched her for a long moment, then sighed. “I’m not dumb enough to fight a crazy ankle-biter in her own turf.”

Jinx gave her a side glance. Her lip trembled, just for a second, but she turned away. Exasperated, she collapsed back into her chair, rubbing her face. 

“Doesn’t even matter…I don’t know what I’m doing,” she muttered. 

Oh no. Sevika was so sure she’d regret her next words, but after an uncomfortably deafening stretch of silence, she parted her lips.

“Rough day?” she asked.

“I keep breaking things.” Jinx let out a bitter laugh, the kind that sounded too tired to hold up the venom behind it. 

“And, yeah, sometimes it’s fun. But sometimes I want to, I dunno, do good things! Like, I want to be a good sister, but- but I can’t!” Her voice cracked halfway through. Sevika shifted her stance, jaw tight as she watched the girl unravel in front of her. There was something raw about it. She couldn’t believe she was gonna do this to the same kid who beat her with her own metal arm. But looking at her now, Sevika couldn’t see that. Couldn’t see the same dangerous, pure hatred that gleamed in her eyes that day. But something else. Something younger. Smaller. Maybe it was foolishness.

“Had a falling out?” she said lowly, more a statement than anything else. Jinx didn't answer right away. Her hands were still caught in her hair, her knees pulled up, forehead resting on them like she could fold herself into something that didn’t exist.

“I didn’t mean it. I know she couldn’t find me. I just…” Jinx whispered with bated breath, not entirely conscious of the conversation she was engaging in.

“What if she doesn’t want me cuz I’m more Jinx than Powder. What if I’m totally Jinx, and she decides that’s not her sister?” Snivelled the girl. Her voice barely got through the air between them, but it hit Sevika all the same.

“Pfft. I’ve been stuck with that brat for five years now. You could be called Dimitri for all she cares. Sorry to tell you, you’re always gonna be her sister.” Sevika scoffed after a long beat. 

Powder gave a brief look of confusion before lifting her head over her shoulder to meet the older woman’s gaze. Her brows furrowed like she wasn’t sure if her trust was to be lent just yet. Sevika took a breath and stepped closer, stepping over a busted can cautiously with a tired groan.

“She’s stubborn. Especially about you. ‘N from what I’ve seen, you’re the same way.”

“I’m nothing like her,” Jinx mumbled.

“Bullshit. You’re both all fire and no brakes. Like two scrappy alley cats in the same pack.” Sevika said simply with a shrug. “And there wasn’t a punch she threw or a word she spoke that wasn’t fueled by you.”

That made Jinx glance up, lashes wet. “You think?”

“I know, unfortunately, all too well,” Sevika muttered, glancing around the airship. 

Jinx looked down again, this time quieter.

“I don’t.. think I deserve her,” she whispered; broken syllables leaving her sentence sounding more appropriate from a confused child.

“Deserves a funny thing. You live long enough, you learn that what you deserve and what you get don’t always match up. But people still show up. And y’know who’s still showing up for you?”  Sevika exhaled through her nose, staring at the ceiling like it might have the right thing to say. 

Jinx blinked slowly, her expression fragile. Her fingers twitched like she might reach for something and pull away before she could. “I dunno if I can fix it.” 

The gambler gave a quiet grunt, eyes flicking toward her.

“Listen. All I know is that when you break a vase, you don’t fix it by running and hiding, do you?” She stood with a creak of her mechanical arm, heading toward the door.

“I don’t even know how to be normal anymore.” Jinx looked up again. Her lip trembled like a kid caught after curfew.

“Good. Cuz that brat ain’t normal either.” Sevika let out a dry laugh. It was the smallest thing, but it pulled a breathy, tired chuckle out of Jinx. She wiped her nose on her sleeve, eyes puffy, but her shoulders eased.

“…You’re not gonna tell her I cried.” The teenager asserted the words like a threat, but they were really a plea.

Sevika smirked. “Not unless I want to deal with her crying, too.”

Jinx hesitated. Then nodded, just once.

Sevika left without another word, and Jinx sat in the quiet of her half-finished hideout, staring at the cracked reflection. Weirdly enough, the image… It felt more coherent now. 

Maybe she’d postpone her little getaway for another day…

Chapter Text

—SIDE : BLUE—

She was never good alone.

Jinx sat cross-legged before a worn statue, picking at the loose threads on her stripped trousers. 

Vander's figure towered above her, weathered and cracked with time but still proud, just like he used to. His figure stood bold, like he was daring the world to try and knock him down. She stared up at him with wide, searching eyes.

"Hey, Dad," she muttered, voice small, almost childlike. The word felt strange, heavy and fragile in her mouth as she hugged her knees to her chest. "I, uh… I messed up again. Big surprise, right?" Jinx forced a shaky laugh, the sound immediately dying in the empty street.

"I wanna fix it, but I dunno where to start.” She waited. As if the statue might come alive, ruffle her hair, tell her she was okay. Tell her what to do. But the silence merely dragged out painfully. No reply. No warm hand on her shoulder. No gruff chuckle. Just the cold stone face staring down at her like he was taunting how she couldn’t reach him.

“I thought... maybe you'd know what I’m supposed to do now. You always did.” Jinx swallowed, her throat tight. The only answer was the wind kicking up dust around her boots. She dropped her head against her knees and closed her eyes, wishing for anything, even if it were just the image of how Jinx imagined how she left him. At least then it would feel like he was here.

But nothing came.

She sat there, for what felt like forever, trying not to cry. Trying not to fall apart all over again.

"Hi,"

Suddenly, the teenager’s head sprang upwards. For a second, she had tricked herself into believing that she was offered a reply. No, of course not. Then, a soft shuffle of footsteps sounding behind her made her tense up. Instinctively, she whipped her head around sharply, one hand twitching toward her hip before she realised who it was.

Caitlyn stood a few feet away, a small, cautious smile on her face. She did not come closer, giving Jinx the choice to close the distance if she wanted to.

Caitie?

Caitlyn said gently. Her hands were clasped in front of her, almost awkward, almost apologetic. "Mind if I join you?"

The teenager sniffed and gave a half-shrug, not trusting her voice enough to speak. Her throat felt tight, like the words might get stuck on the way out. Instead, the ex-convict kept her eyes trained on the pavement, guarded and tired. She watched as the topsider moved beside her, slow and deliberate.

Kiramman sat close, just near enough that her presence could be felt, but without touching. She didn’t crowd her. She didn’t speak right away. Her nearness was a quiet reminder that the smaller girl was not as alone as she had convinced herself she was.

For a while, neither of them spoke. The taller woman leaned back slightly, her eyes drifting upward toward the towering statue of Vander. She let the silence linger, not out of hesitation but out of respect. Some silences meant more than words.

“He looks strong,” Caitlyn said quietly, her voice barely more than a breath.

“He is,” Jinx replied, though her voice betrayed her. It cracked at the edges, sharp with old grief that still hadn’t dulled.

The topsider said nothing more. She only glanced sideways at the ex-convict, reading the subtle tension in her jaw, the way her shoulders stayed drawn up like a coiled spring. The smaller girl clearly hated being seen like this, peeled back and exposed, but still, she hadn’t run. That was something. So she stayed still. She stayed present. She stayed patient.

“You know, when I was little, I thought my father was invincible. Bigger than anything. Like he could fix the world just by walking into a room.” After a while, she spoke again, her tone light but laced with something personal. The smaller girl didn’t look up. There was a pause, followed by a faint and hesitant. “Me too…”

Jinx’s boot had dug into a dent in the plinth. Her body pulled tighter; the words had struck a chord she hadn’t meant to reveal. Still, she didn’t explode, didn’t flee. Simply kept her eyes on the ground, every part of her listening closely.

“I get it, you know,” The taller woman continued, shifting her posture to sit cross-legged, facing the smaller girl more directly. “That feeling. Like you’re supposed to live up to something impossible. Like, no matter what you do, it won’t be enough. It sucks.”

This time, the ex-convict looked at her. The glance was wary, sharp at the edges, but there was curiosity behind it, too. A spark, small but visible.

“My parents are kind of a big deal in Piltover,” Caitlyn proceeded, her mouth curling into a dry, humourless smile. “They want me to be some perfect replication of them. A politician, a ruler, or whatever nonsense they think sounds noble. Gag, right?”

A snort escaped the teenager before she could stop it. Rough, genuine, and sudden. It startled her. It cracked through the layer of tension that had been pressed down on her chest. “Sounds like a fate worse than death,” Jinx muttered, though there was a flicker of a smile threatening to form at the corners of her mouth.

“Exactly!” said the taller woman, grinning. “All day, surrounded by people who speak in riddles and money bags… Just say what you mean already! Honestly, I think they’d rather choke than be direct.”

Jinx shook her head a little, like she was trying to push the smile away, but it was too late. The wall she had been clinging to was still there, but it had shifted. Just a crack, just enough to let something else in.

“But…” Caitlyn paused, “I don’t think VI wants that for you.”

Jinx’s foot dug deeper into the pavement. Her shoulders stiffened again. She stared down, jaw clenched tight, and her fingers twitched slightly where they rested against her knee. She was listening. Even if it hurt. Caitlyn kept her gaze steady, her voice quieter now.

“When it comes down to it, VI’s just scared,” The topsider sighed. She chose her words as if picking the wrong one would cut the defuser. In turn, the smaller girl beside her turned slightly, studying her face with narrowed eyes, like she was trying to spot a lie hiding in the folds of her expression.

Caitlyn gave a quiet nod, her gaze unwavering. “Yeah. Hard to picture someone like her being scared.” The topsider chuckled at Jinx’s apparent confusion. “But that’s what love does. It puts fear into even the toughest hearts.”

“Love…” Jinx repeated, quiet and quizzical, like she was testing the word’s shape on her tongue.

“And she loves you,” Caitlyn said again, and this time it wasn’t a question or a theory. It was a truth laid bare. “Not a version of you someone else approves of. Not a polished image with all the sharp edges sanded down. Just you.”

The teenager’s breath hitched, so small a sound it might have gone unnoticed if Caitlyn hadn’t been listening so closely. Her chest rose and fell slower now, but there was a weight to it, like every inhale had to claw its way up through something buried deep.

“That’s why she’s so terrified of losing you again,” Caitlyn added softly.

There was a pause. A long, quiet stretch of nothing, until the smaller girl finally spoke.

“I’m scared too.” The words came out ragged, like they had been dug out with bare hands. They hung in the air, fragile but brave.

“I know,” said the taller woman, without an ounce of doubt. “It’s okay. You’re allowed to be. You don’t have to keep it all locked up. If you tell her, she’ll understand. You’re not as far from her as you think.”

Jinx looked at her again. Really looked. Her eyes were wet, rimmed with the kind of hurt that never healed clean. But beneath it, there was something softer. Less guarded. There was no mockery in Caitlyn’s face. No pity either. Only calm. Only truth.

And without a word, Powder leaned her head gently against the topsider’s shoulder. Caitlyn stayed still. Didn’t move, didn’t speak. She just let her be there.

After a long moment, she asked in a voice barely louder than the breeze, “Wanna go home?”

The small girl nodded, almost imperceptibly, and whispered back, “Yeah…”

—SIDE : FADED RED—

The sun hung low over Zaun, casting streaks of rust-colored light across the battered rooftops. Shadows stretched long between the buildings, and the air was thick with the scent of metal and grime. Most kids were already tucked in for the night, but not Violet.

She had snuck out just after her mother and uncle Vander fell asleep, cradling Powder in her arms like a secret. Powder was barely a year old, round-cheeked and wide-eyed, wrapped in a too-big coat that smelled faintly of laundry soap and smoke. Vi had whispered to her, promising an adventure, a real one. No walls. No rules.

They crept through the winding alleys until Vi found the familiar ladder nailed crookedly against a wall. With Powder snug in a makeshift sling across her chest, Vi climbed carefully, her small hands and feet moving with practised confidence. The rooftops were her world. Up here, things made sense. She wanted to share that with Powder.

“You gotta see it, Pow,” she whispered, settling them both on the edge of a rooftop. “Up here, you can feel like anything's possible.”

The next building was a little farther than usual, but Vi had done it before. She eyed the gap, bent her knees, and pulled Powder tighter against her.

“Just hold on,” she murmured, more to herself than to the baby. “We got this.”

She ran.

Leapt.

But it wasn’t enough.

The landing was off before it even began. Her heart seized as they dipped too low, too fast. The edge of the next rooftop rushed up, too far away. Vi had enough time to realise what was happening. That this was it. That she had dragged her baby sister into the air and now she was falling, carrying them both straight toward a mistake she’d never rectify.

No

NONONONONONONONO

But then..

A gust of wind hit, sudden and sharp. It howled between the buildings, stronger than it should have been. Vi felt her body lift, just enough. Her foot caught the lip of the rooftop, and she tumbled forward, scraping her knees and elbows on rough stone. Powder let out a startled cry, but she was safe, still snug against Vi’s chest.

They had made it.

Vi clutched her sister to her chest, breathing hard, staring wide-eyed at the sky. For a moment, all she could hear was her own heartbeat, pounding in her ears.

And then she saw her.

Across the rooftop, near the corner of the next building, a figure stood watching. Tall. Still. Wrapped in soft shadow and golden strands of hair that caught what little light was left. Vi blinked, mouth falling open.

But the woman was gone before she could get a proper look. No sound. No trace.

Vi’s legs gave out beneath her, and she sank to her knees, arms trembling around her baby sister. The tears came fast, hot and silent at first, then sobs so loud they seemed to echo in the narrow spaces between the buildings.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered into Powder’s hair. “I’m so sorry, I-I just wanted…”

She couldn’t finish. The weight of what almost happened had collapsed into her chest like a stone. What excuse could she make? If Powder had gotten hurt, she’d never forgive herself. 

Powder shifted in her arms and reached out one tiny hand, smacking gently at Vi’s wet cheek. She babbled. It was nonsense, just the sweet garble of a baby who had no idea what they had just survived, but it came with a wide, silly smile and a little giggle.

Vi laughed through her tears, choked and broken. Powder reached again, pulling at a strand of her sister’s hair, gurgling with a soft sound of delight.

“Oh Pow…” Vi whispered, holding her closer. 

“You’re right… We’re okay.”

— SIDE : BLUE —

It was a quiet walk back to their little home tucked beneath the bones of the old bar.

Standing before the stairs to the basement, Jinx hesitated, her heart hammering painfully against her ribs, but Caitlyn squeezed her shoulder gently before stepping back. The teenager looked over her shoulder once, catching the taller woman’s encouraging nod.

Caitlyn gave a small, almost conspiratorial smile and lightly nudged Jinx’s arm. "Go on," she whispered. "She’s waiting."

She pushed the door open.

Inside, the air felt heavy, like it had been holding its breath along with them. A single light above the table buzzed and flickered weakly, casting Vi’s face in half-shadow.

Vi pushed herself up from the table so quickly that the chair fell to the floor. Her boots thudded softly as she crossed the small room, stopping just a few feet from Jinx. Her arms twitched at her sides, like she was fighting the urge to just grab her sister and never let go.

"Hey," The elder sister mumbled, voice hopeful yet unsure. Her thumb jerked toward the rusted fire escape barely visible through the cracked window, but her eyes never left her sister’s face. 

Jinx stood in the doorway, her fingers tightening around the strap of her satchel like it was a lifeline. Her heart pounded against her ribs, the fear rising, pressing hot behind her eyes. Fear that if she stepped forward, if she said the wrong thing, everything would shatter again. It took her a while to find the strength to part her lips.

"Can we… Go up top?"

…

Jinx stepped onto the roof first, stuffing her hands deep into her pockets as she wandered to the edge. She peered out over the rooftops, the city lights smearing into long, blurry rivers of colour. Behind her, Vi’s boots crunched as she came up to stand beside her. The old metal groaned beneath their weight; neither of them spoke as they climbed. Above them, the rooftop stretched wide and empty, the city buzzing faintly in the distance like a heartbeat.

They sat side by side, legs dangling over the edge. The silence wrapped around them, heavy and awkward, but not angry. Just… uncertain. First, Vi exhaled sharply, like she was gasping for air.

"Powder... I’m—” 

"I don’t blame you."

The words exploded out of her before Vi could even finish. 

"I didn’t mean to say it," Powder whispered, her voice so small it almost disappeared into the night. "I never did." The boxer froze, her throat tightening painfully. Stunned and silent, she could only stare.

“I’m the one who screws everything up," Jinx found her fingers digging hard into her thighs. It must have hurt, but she couldn’t care.  "Vander. Mylo. Claggor. You..." The teenager’s voice cracked, splintering apart as she rushed the names out like ripping off a scab.

"All I’m good at is protecting myself, and then… I get it wrong." She wiped at her face roughly with the sleeve of her jacket, smearing fresh tears across her cheeks. Her whole body trembled, like the act of staying upright was costing her more than she had to give.

"I dunno why you’d even bother to keep me around. Mylo was right. I’m just a Jinx. Everyone died ‘cuz of it.” Her shoulders twitched, trying to laugh it off. Though the sound came out more like a pathetic choking sound. “I don’t know if Powder’s even here anymore.”

All Vi could feel was her heart fracture piece by piece, listening to her little sister tear herself apart. Her mind raced. What on earth was she gonna say? Her eyes searched helplessly. Maybe if she looked hard enough, the answers would find her.

No, it never worked like that. And the longer she stayed quiet, the more she could see the guilt crushing the small girl’s shoulders.

"Yeah. You definitely messed up."

Her mouth moved before her brain caught up. Panic settled, but she couldn’t let it linger. But she couldn’t deny how her heart dropped when she saw how Jinx shrank at her words.

"But so did I," She continued, shifting closer, her boots scraping softly against the rooftop. 

"I wanted to be a leader so badly. Thought all it took was being strong enough, loud enough, brave enough... " She swallowed hard. "And because I was wrong... we lost everything."

Jinx peeked up at her from behind her messy hair, eyes glassy and confused.

"Everyone fucks up, Pow," Vi winced, her voice rough with emotion. "We can spend our whole lives tearing ourselves apart for it. It won’t change what already happened.”

"But none of that,"  She hesitated, fighting to breathe past the lump in her throat, "None of it will ever make me stop loving you."

Powder stared at her, wide-eyed and trembling, as if she was waiting for the ground beneath her to crack open and swallow her whole.

"You could blow up this whole city. You could paint the skies pink and blow everyone’s eardrums out, and I will still love you."  Vi gave a restrained laugh, purple glistening in her watery eyes. Shaking, breathing; Powder just sat there. Mouth agape like she was about to drown in the air between them. 

Then, without warning, she lunged forward, crashing into Vi’s chest with enough force to nearly knock them both over.

And Vi caught her, of course she did. Arms locking around the trembling girl without hesitation, she squeezed her so tightly. Powder clung just as desperately, fingers curling into the back of her elder sister’s jacket like she was terrified she might disappear. Vi pressed her forehead into Powder’s, squeezing her eyes shut against the burning in her throat. 

"I gotcha’, Pow," she whispered. "I always got ya."

The cold night air curled around them, but never quite touching where they stayed locked together. Eventually, Vi shifted, easing them both to sit against the rooftop’s edge. Jinx stayed close, her head tucked stubbornly under Vi’s chin like a kid refusing to admit she needed comfort.

"You know, I almost got us both killed, too.” Vi hummed bluntly after a few minutes, her voice rough but lighter. Jinx peeked up at her, eyes squinting in curiosity. That was certainly a way to start a sentence. 

"Used to love the sunset when I was a kid. So, when you were real little, I wanted you to see it too. Vander and my mom told me not to. Said you were too small. But I thought I knew better." Vi chuckled quietly, brushing her knuckles against Jinx’s cheek. “No way…“A faint, amazed smile tugged at Powder’s lips.

"Yup. I snuck us up onto this crumbling old balcony over the bar. You were wrapped up, all nice and tight, and I hoisted us up there, thinking I was so smart." Vi gave a breathless chuckle, shaking her head at the memory.  "I didn’t make the leap." 

“How- How did we survive? Did you get hurt? Did Dad catch you?” Jinx’s eyes widened in horror. 

“Mmm… It was a miracle. A gust of wind strong enough to push me back up found its way to me.” Powder cocked her eyebrow in suspicion, so Vi decided she’d leave the part about it being the work of a magical cloud lady out. "I got more than just an earful, I’ll tell ya that for free," Vi grinned, ruffling her sister’s messy hair. 

"But I would do it again if it meant you got to see the sunset." A giggle, real and raw, slipped out of Jinx’s mouth, surprising even her. Vi caught the sound and laughed too, warmth blooming stubbornly.

As their giggles quietened down, Vi pulled something from around her neck, a thin leather cord with an old, battered golden ornament hanging from it. The worn-out thing looked like it had survived a dozen wars and then some.

"This was Vander’s. Used to be too big for my wrist, so I wore it around my neck instead, ‘member? I started wearing it again when we were apart. It reminded me of what mattered. Well, it tried to.” The boxer murmured.

 "Think it’d look nice on you.” Vi held it out, carefully resting it in her palm. Powder stared at it, hands hovering like she was afraid touching it might make it disappear. Slowly, carefully, she let Vi slip it around her head. It hung heavy against her chest, a weight that somehow made her feel steadier.

After a second, Jinx felt for her side, rummaging through her belt until she pulled out something small, dirty, and ragged. Bunny Vi. It was missing an ear, the seams were split, and it looked like it had been through hell, but it was unmistakable. Hesitantly, Vi’s coarse fingers brushed over it.

"She… kept me safe in jail," Jinx mumbled, face stoned with determination. “She can keep you safe now, too. And I won’t let anyone throw her away, either.”

Vi held the battered toy in her hands; a treasure pulled from the wreckage of a life they both thought was long gone. Her fingers trembled as they traced the familiar seams, and a small, broken smile fought its way through the tears that blurred her vision. Across from her, Jinx sat watching with wide eyes. Something fragile and pure sparking in her iris.

"Oh, Pow..." Vi whispered, her voice catching as she pressed the worn toy to her chest. For a moment, the years and the pain fell away, and she saw her little sister standing there, not the ghost, not the stranger. Just Powder. Just a kid who had been lost for too long.

Jinx blinked rapidly, the name falling from Vi's lips hitting her like a blow and a balm all at once. Her mouth opened like she wanted to say something, but no sound came out. Instead, she stepped closer, her hands hesitating before she let them fall against her sides, unsure, afraid.

Vi swallowed hard and knelt down, still clutching the toy as if it could anchor them both. "Kid... you want me to call you Jinx?"

Powder's face twisted, the old name stirring something too tender to touch easily. She chewed her lip, her gaze dropping to the floor as if the answer were written somewhere in the cracks. Seconds dragged on, heavy and raw, before she finally shook her head, barely a movement, but sure.

"Nah... With you, I'm Powder."

— SIDE : INDIGO —

Later that night, the three of them ended up sprawled across their room, an odd pile of blankets and mismatched pillows. The radio stuttered quietly in the background, but none of them were really paying attention. It was just something to fill the spaces between the softer, easier moments.

“Hey Pow, think fast!” VI tossed a cushion at Jinx, who yelped dramatically and nearly knocked over the bowl of their lamp. Caitlyn shook her head with a smile, leaning back against the couch with a tired but contented sigh.

"You know, Caitie really saved the day today," Jinx chirped, trying to find a way to pull herself up without using her arms. Vi snorted, leaning over to pull the smaller girl up by her leg. 

"I guess it’s a good thing you guilt-tripped me into keeping her around, huh?” The boxer playfully mumbled. Caitlyn chuckled, too, a hand resting loosely over her stomach as she stretched her legs out. "Honestly? I'm surprised I did not make everything worse. That was... sort of my speciality back in Piltover." She said it lightly, but there was a trace of old hurt lingering under the words.

Vi lifted an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth tugging upward in a barely restrained smirk. "And here I thought you were a model citizen."

"Pfft... Gosh, no," Caitlyn said with a sharp scoff, shaking her head as if the idea alone was too ridiculous to even entertain.

Jinx flopped onto her back with a dramatic gasp, her arms flailing wide. "Jeez, they gotta be suuuuper strict up there if they had a problem with you!" she cried, genuine disbelief colouring her voice.

Caitlyn laughed, the sound warm and a little disbelieving, like she still wasn’t used to people being on her side. Her eyes caught the light as she glanced between them, bright with something tender, something rare. It was not pride exactly. It was gratitude. Relief. Maybe even something that felt a little like belonging.

Vi watched her for a moment longer, then leaned back on her hands with a low, thoughtful hum. "Well, screw 'em," she said, her voice a little softer now. "You might not be a model citizen, sugar, but you’re a pretty damn good roommate."

Jinx popped up from where she was sprawled, grinning like she had been waiting for just this kind of opening. "Vi, you can just call her your friend, you know..." she sing-songed, her blue eyes dancing with mischief. "Unless... there’s something mor—"

"Alright, hush hush, stinkbutt," Vi interrupted, snatching up a pillow and launching it at Jinx with a practised aim. Jinx let out a squawk, swatting at it like an angry cat. Vi groaned dramatically, covering her face with both hands like she was being tortured. Caitlyn burst into laughter, doubling over and clutching her sides, the sound spilling out of her so easily it filled the room. The teenager stuck her tongue out in triumph, sitting up straighter with a grin so wide it was almost too big for her face. She kicked her feet against the floor in a quick, playful rhythm, the picture of chaotic satisfaction. It was perfect. That’s all it needed to be.

“I talked to Sevika, ya know,” Jinx mentioned off-handedly.

“You what?!”

— SIDE : ROYAL BLUE —

Cassandra Kiramman. 

A name of power.

She stood at the wide window of her office, her hands clasped so tightly behind her back that her knuckles ached. Piltover stretched out before her, shining and ordered, a city that still hummed with the illusion of control - of progress. 

But Cassandra knew better. She could feel it, just beneath the surface, slipping from her grasp. The reports on her desk were scattered, official and unofficial both. Whispers that the undercity was reorganising itself against all odds. 

And Caitlyn. Always Caitlyn. Once again, at the centre of it all. Her daughter, lost to the depths of the Undercity, clinging to scraps of a life among the people she had once been taught to pity, to discipline, to be better than.

If Caitlyn would not come back of her own accord, then Cassandra would simply have to give her no other choice.

She turned from the window and signed the new orders herself, a pen scratching sharp against the paper. Deployment of additional enforcers into sectors classified as ‘resource sensitive’. No probable cause. No public notice. Quiet pressure, just enough to strain the barter lines, to tighten the water flow, to make life just a little harder, a little more desperate. Not enough to spark an uprising - for she was no fool - but enough to tip the balance. Enough to remind Caitlyn what was at stake.

Enough to make her remember where she truly belonged.

The senior officers filed into her office with stiff backs and grim faces, understanding without needing her to spell it out. They were not the best Piltover had to offer, but they were loyal. Efficient. Ambitious in ways she could use.

"You will prioritize the control of water reserves and oversee the inspection of trade caravans coming into Sector Five and Sector Eight," Cassandra commanded, her voice cool and measured. "Blockages, shortages, and minor conflicts are to be treated as necessary interventions. No official reports unless unavoidable."

One of the captains shifted, uneasy. "Ma'am... with respect, this could be seen as provocation."

"Then it is your responsibility to ensure that it is not. Make use of the late Sheriff’s unfortunate passing, if you must.” Cassandra’s gaze pinned him where he stood, hard and unflinching. The captain dropped his eyes, murmuring assent. They understood now. They knew the lines they would be asked to walk.

When they had gone, Cassandra sat heavily at her desk, staring down at the dark wood as if it might offer some kind of answer. Logic had always been Caitlyn's strength. That cool, brilliant mind had been the pride of House Kiramman, the weapon she had sharpened since childhood. But her heart softened her for the worst. It constantly twisted her away from her duty. 

Cassandra's hand hovered over the edge of the desk, trembling slightly before she forced it still. 

This was not cruelty. This was correction. Caitlyn was her daughter. She was Piltover's future. And sometimes, love meant refusing to let someone destroy themselves, even when they could not see it yet.

In time, Caitlyn would understand. She would come home. She had to.

There would be no choice. Only the illusion of it.

Chapter Text

—SIDE : INDIGO—

“Time to settle it once and for all!”

“Who’s the best shot in all of Zaun and Piltover?” 

The arcade was its usual dull scene, only slightly livened up by the stray neon lights scattered across the room. All silent before giddy laughter. Jinx practically dragged VI and Caitlyn through the makeshift entrance, a bolt of restless energy in the neon-lit space. Her eyes wide and electric with excitement. 

VI chuckled behind her, arms crossed, her brow arched with amusement. “I don’t think this old place was built to handle this kind of bravado.”

“You scared, Caitie?” Jinx spun to face the topsider, already bouncing in place. Caitlyn tilted her head, calm and composed as always. “Youngins first,” she replied smoothly, gesturing to the stall with a slight smile.

The landscape blinked awake. Targets began popping up in unpredictable patterns, accompanied by loud chimes and mechanical whirring. The powder-haired girl’s fingers curled around the toy gun like it was part of her. Her wild eyes locked in, all the noise fading into the background.

Then, she fired.

The first target went down. Then the second. Third. Fourth. The stall lit up with each hit, a chaotic orchestra of lights and sound. Her movements were sharp, effortless, as if her body remembered this rhythm better than it remembered sleep. The final target rose, and before the machine could even beep, she nailed it. The scoreboard flared red and gold, announcing her new record-shattering time in bold, blinking letters.

“Beat that!” Jinx threw her arms up with a cry of victory, twirling the plastic gun before tossing it to the side. 

Caitlyn stepped forward with quiet confidence, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she took the weapon. Her face was unreadable, serene in a way that only made Jinx more jittery. VI watched her with an intrigued look.

The targets began again, and the young Kiramman moved like a current beneath still water. Steady. Precise. Calculated. Jinx’s entire opposite. Yet, the same outcome. Each shot rang true, the same satisfying ding accompanying every hit, and even faster so. Jinx leaned forward slightly, mouth parted, not speaking this time. Something had shifted in her expression: a quiet, grudging awe.

Then the final target appeared. Caitlyn’s finger hovered over the trigger. She exhaled.

-

[That day.

“I already have my trophy.”

 “What are you shooting for, Young Kiramman?”

I had thought it was the most insulting thing, being ‘given’ the win.

But now…]

-

…The final shot veered left and missed. 

“HAHA! Told you I’m the best!”

Jinx shrieked with joy, arms raised in the air like she’d just won a lifetime of gold. Caitlyn smiled fondly, offering her a theatrical bow. “All hail the champion.”

“Did you see that? I’m unbeatable!” Jinx continued to whoop, grabbing VI by the arm and shaking her.

“Alright, alright, hotshot. Let’s not shout the place down. Looks like one octave too high could bring these wooden walls tumbling.” VI ruffled her sister’s hair, smirking at her exuberance. The teenager giggled before hopping over the divider, most likely to tinker with the mass of wires on the floor again.

Whilst doing so, VI leaned her weight against a nearby cabinet, arms crossed, her expression somewhere between amused and curious. The neon lights flickered across her cheek, but her sharp eyes never left Caitlyn.

"Now I’m no sniper," the bruiser started, her voice low and teasing, "but it kinda looked like you threw that last shot."

The topsider didn’t look up at first. She was still watching Jinx across the room, the teenager decorating herself in colourful but worn electrical leads and random nuts and bolts. Radiating like sunlight, loud and infectious.

“She’s insanely good,” Caitlyn said after a moment, her voice even. “Especially for someone with no formal training. Or someone five years my junior.”

“Mmm. Still didn’t deny it.” VI smirked. 

“It’s not about letting her win. It’s about recognising when a win matters more to someone else than it does to you.” Caitlyn turned her head slightly, giving the brawler a pointed glance. VI raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.

Caitlyn sighed, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “Winning this... meant something to her. Probably more than it ever could to me. It isn’t pity. It’s just fair. Giving her a moment that was hers.” 

The boxer’s playful expression faltered into something softer, more thoughtful. She studied the woman beside her, the tightness in her jaw, the subtle weight behind every word. VI didn’t say anything at first. She just nodded, slow and deliberate.

"Awee, you really do care, huh?" VI spoke at last, her voice softer now with a hint of mischief in her playful words mixed with an inch of vulnerability in her expression.

“Mhm,” Caitlyn murmured with a small nod, her smile gentle, almost wistful. “We’re friends, like I said.” 

VI then scoffed lightly and leaned over, bumping Caitlyn’s shoulder with her own. “You’re such a sap.”

 “Oh, says the one who’d carry her all the way to Demacia and back if she so much as suggested it.” It was the young Kiramman’s turn to raise her eyebrow teasingly, though still affectionate. The boxer let out a sheepish chuckle and lifted both hands in mock surrender. Her grin tugged at the corners of her mouth as she tilted her head.

“Yeah, yeah, ya got me.”

—SIDE : RED —

Back at home, the tension of the day melted away into the worn familiarity of their shared space. VI stepped through the doorway first, her boots heavy against the creaking floorboards, and cracked her knuckles with a satisfying pop. She stretched both arms high above her head, back arching until the motion drew out a low, contented groan from her chest. Then came the laugh; deep, unrestrained, the kind that bounced off the walls and filled the room with warmth.

“Alriiiight,” she said, drawing out the word with a grin, “time to celebrate!” She then turned to the bed with a theatrical flourish and extended her arm toward its current occupant. “Powder, our finest, what’ll it be tonight? Name your prize.”

The girl in question was sprawled across the cushions like a tangle of limbs and half-untied laces. Her boots dangled precariously from her feet, toes twitching as if deciding whether to kick them off or not. At her sister’s voice, she perked up like a coiled spring, eyes lighting up with mischief and hunger.

“Ooo! The meatballs with that spicy saucy!” she exclaimed, voice bright with glee.

VI snapped her fingers and pointed. “The meatballs with the spicy sauce it shall be,” she declared, already striding toward the kitchen with purpose. “Chef VI is on the case!”

“Victory food!” Powder whooped, grabbing a nearby pillow and launching it into the air like a firework. It spun lazily on the way down, hitting the floor with a soft whump, ignored and forgotten as quickly as it had been thrown.

Behind them, Caitlyn rose from her seat with a small shake of her head, amusement dancing in her sharp eyes. The precise sharpshooter was more composed than the others, but even she couldn’t quite hide the smile tugging at her lips. She followed the brawler, but lingered just outside the kitchen’s boundary, arms crossed and one brow arched.

“I’m fairly certain I’m still banned from the sacred kitchen ground,” she said, her voice dry.

“Eyup,” VI shot back, not even turning around as she rummaged for a pan.

Caitlyn chuckled under her breath and leaned lightly against the wall. “Hmm, I’m sure it’ll be somewhat appetising, regardless.”

“Everything I make is appetising,” the brawler quipped, flashing a smirk over her shoulder. “Pretty sure I was a world-renowned chef in a past life.”

Sharing a giggle, VI reached for the gas knob and gave it a confident twist in a practiced motion. She expected the usual hiss, the promise of flame to follow. But the only sound was a hollow click.

Click.
 Click.
   Click.

Nothing. Her brow furrowed. She tried again, turning the dial slower this time, waiting for the familiar whoosh of blue flame.

Still nothing.

The shorter woman straightened slowly, her frame tense with a faint, creeping edge of confusion. She frowned at the stove as if it had personally offended her, then turned to the sink. Without thinking, she reached out and twisted the old brass handle. The faucet shuddered. A low groan rattled through the pipes like something ancient waking in the walls, followed by a metallic cough and a hollow, echoing wheeze.

No hiss of water. No flicker of gas. Just stillness.

VI's scarred knuckles hovered near the tap for a moment longer, as if expecting the lack of movement to make it change its mind. She blinked once, then said simply, “Huh.”

From the bed, the powder-haired trickster twisted in place, her head peeking over the pillows like a curious cat. Her eyes narrowed with amusement, though a note of interest curled beneath her voice. “What happened?”

VI didn’t respond right away. Rather, her broad shoulders shifted as she leaned back in, checking the stove once more. She turned the knob with a slower, more deliberate motion this time, her ear tuned for any hint of ignition. Still nothing.

“Stove’s dead,” VI muttered, her voice low, teeth tight on the words. She stepped back, reaching up to adjust the faucet again, as if a second attempt would yield better results. “And no water…”

Caitlyn, who had been silently observing from the doorway, stepped forward now, her posture straight and controlled, eyes sharp as glass. “Is it damp, maybe?” She offered the only suggestion she could.

In response, VI shook her head, brows drawn. “Nope, dry as bone. Just won’t light, pipes aren’t even spitting.”

Powder then followed them into the kitchen with a lazy sway, a screw twirling between her fingers like a miniature baton. Her pink eyes danced between the two older women, then to the old appliance, with an intense focus. 

“Let me give it a try.” She hummed confidently. VI and Caitlyn subsequently stood back and allowed her to take a crack at it. The ex-convict crouched to check beneath the sink. The cabinet door creaked open with a protesting squeal, revealing tangled pipes and dust-lined corners. She reached in, touched the metal; cold and dry.

Whilst the two women awaited her diagnosis, a knock sounded at the door. Who the hell could that be? Sevika? VI hadn’t spoken to her since that day. Without even realising, her heart picked up a few paces at the thought of confronting her again. Caitlyn looked towards her with a look that read as if she was waiting to see if they had the same idea. After a long exhale, VI trudged up the steps, the young Kiramman in tow, hesitantly pressing her hand to the doorknob; yanking it open to see

…Ran and Dustin?

VI couldn’t tell if this subversion was entirely welcome or entirely infuriating.

Ran, usually slouching and relaxed, now appeared gaunt with nervous eyes and twitching fingers. Dustin, who was always off, seemed even more so somehow. Both were wearing that patched-up, grimy look of men who still hadn’t found a home after their king had fallen.  The black haired woman looked up immediately, lips parting in preparation to speak. 

But, before she could, VI’s expression turned to steel. Her pupils flared, and in the space of a blink, her eyes burned violet; raw shimmer bleeding into her irises like wildfire. The surge of it rose before she could even think to stop it.

“You’ve got some fucking nerve,” VI growled, voice sharp enough to cut glass. Her tone cracked through the air like a whip. “You got a damn death wish? You know full well below the bar is off limits.”

“We- We know! We wouldn’t be here unless it was serious, we swear!” She took a step back, hands raised in surrender, palms open. Dustin nodded, too, frantically. VI clenched her fists, shimmer still pulsing faintly beneath the surface of her skin. Caitlyn placed a cautious hand on her arm, a steadying gesture, calm but firm. Reluctantly, the boxer jerked her head upwards, allowing them to proceed.

The two sidekicks exchanged a glance, the kind shared between cowards on the edge of truth. Sweat glistened faintly at Ran’s temple.

“The power grid’s gone fucked, VI. Not just in the Lanes. All of it!” Ran hissed the words out, eyes darting around the hallway like the shadows themselves were listening.

VI didn’t move at first. Her fury still clung to her shoulders like heat from a forge, but now it took another shape. The hardened edge of battle rage dulled into something colder, something calculating. Her brow dipped low, violet still faintly flickering in the whites of her eyes.

Caitlyn stepped forward, her voice a steady blade in the rising noise. “You’re saying this is citywide?”

“Yeah! All over! People’re scared shitless, man!” Ren’s voice cracked with urgency.

The moment the friendly address left her mouth, VI’s eyes snapped wide. Ran’s jaw clenched as she realised the misplaced friendliness. She blinked, stammered, then quickly shook her head, trying to recover her footing. Caitlyn didn’t bother acknowledging the slip. The highborn detective bypassed the shorter woman’s bristling pride entirely and leaned in toward the skittish goon. Her voice was measured, but urgent.

“Is there anything else? Clues, signs, anyone suspicious near the substations?”

Ren opened her mouth, faltered. “Well - er - I dunno much, but—”

“Clearly,” VI cut in, her voice sharp like gravel.

“But…” Ren’s eyes flitted up the stairwell, then back down the corridor. She lowered her voice, eyes flicking back and forth as though the walls might sprout ears. “The Lanes. They’re crawling. Enforcers. Everywhere.”

VI’s body reacted before her mind could catch up. Her arms dropped from their crossed stance, falling limp at her sides. Her hands clenched once, reflexively, pupils shrinking to pinpricks, leaving her eyes pale, shimmer once again, pulsing beneath the surface of her skin in full throttle.

“What?” she breathed.

No one had time to answer.

In the next heartbeat, VI surged forward. She shoved past the two informants without ceremony, her shoulder catching Dustin and sending him stumbling into the wall. Ran, yelped, flattening herself to the side.

Caitlyn was already moving too, footsteps ringing out in pursuit as VI took the stairs two at a time. Her breath came sharp and fast, not from exhaustion, but from fury, confusion, and dread all pressing together in her chest.

The bar door slammed open at the top of the stairwell.

And there it was.

The Lanes: usually buzzing with flickering neon, drunken shouting, low music, and the hiss of vented pipes. All of that was gone.

And in its place came a harrowing sight. 

Floodlights were set up at intersections. Enforcer caravans idled in rows along the main artery of the street. Boots thundered in small squads as helmeted figures marched past shuttered homes. People peered through cracks in doors. Bystanders getting manhandled by uniformed devils, twice their size.

VI didn’t hesitate.

Striking the ground hard, she marched directly into the nearest pool of light cast by one of the towering flood rigs, arms swinging with purpose, eyes fixed on the nearest squad of enforcers. Her body moved like a weapon drawn. She didn’t care who saw or how loud she was.

The squad stopped as she approached, a wall of dark armour turning as one. One of them, taller than the rest, stepped forward. His helmet gleamed under the artificial light, the visor down, face unreadable. His hands rested on the butt of his rifle.

“Awful rude to barge into someone’s neighbourhood like this, y’know?” VI growled, voice cutting through the air like a knife. The enforcers didn’t flinch, but tension rolled off them like heat off iron.

“Move along,” the lead enforcer replied flatly. His voice was filtered through the helm, distorted and cold. “This sector is under temporary lockdown.”

“Don’t give damn what you call it, really.” VI’s fists clenched at her sides. “You’re on my street, grabbing my people like they’re cattle. And I don’t think I’ll have it.”

A second enforcer stepped forward, hand drifting toward his baton.

“You are interfering with active enforcement.”

“And what do you plan to do about it, pal?” VI snapped, eyes flashing again with that glint of violet shimmer. The two enforcers squared their shoulders. Fingers twitched on their weapons. The whole street seemed to pause, watching, waiting for the first punch to be thrown.

That was when Caitlyn stepped in. The sharpshooter’s voice rang clear. 

“Wait!”

VI didn’t move. Her jaw was tight, her breathing sharp. “Cait—”

“Wait, please,” Caitlyn repeated, stepping directly between her partner in detectiveness and the armoured wall of law. Her hand rose gently to the brawler’s shoulder in an attempt to steady her. VI stared back at her, fury still coursing through every vein. But Kirraman’s hand didn’t tremble. Her eyes didn’t waver.

“Let me talk to them,” Caitlyn said, voice quiet now, meant only for VI. “Just give me a minute.”

VI’s breath came out hard, eyes twitching between the one (ex) enforcer she trusted and the dozens she didn’t. Her hands were still clenched. But slowly, reluctantly, she stepped back a single pace. “One minute.”

Caitlyn turned to the enforcers. “We’ll speak over there.”

The lead nodded and gestured for her to follow. Together they stepped a few paces down the alley, far enough from the crowd, but not far from VI’s line of sight. The pink-haired woman stayed rooted, eyes tracking every movement like a hawk. Her posture didn’t relax.

In the shadows, Caitlyn stood before the visor-faced men like a flame refusing to flicker. Her tone was cool, her words deliberate.

“What on Runeterra is this?”

“Council concern,” the lead enforcer replied. “We were sent for your safety.”

Caitlyn blinked once, slowly. “My safety.”

He nodded. “Your mother was notified of the Undercity failures. Power, water, instability. She made inquiries.”

“She what?”

“We were given authorisation to secure your location,” he continued. “Your mother insisted this was for your well-being. Her words - she’s worried about you.”

“So she sends a fleet!?” Caitlyn scoffed in disbelief, her arms waving emphatically. Her eyes made no time to blink. No answer came. The young Kiramman took this as a sign to step forward, her voice now low, but with enough venom to kill. 

“I am a grown woman. I do not need a detachment of soldiers and a blockade at my doorstep to feel protected. I chose to be here. I choose who I stand with.”

“If you have any integrity in your roles as the protectors of peace, cease this,” She pointed back toward the floodlit street. “And whilst you’re at it, you tell my mother that this stunt will only keep me away longer.”

The lead enforcer shifted slightly but said nothing more. His visor remained down, his silence final. Caitlyn didn’t wait, however, turning sharply, feeling the wind as she marched back toward the one person in the street whose eyes still held fire.

VI stood waiting, rooted beneath the harsh white glow spilling from the lights above. Her arms now hung loosely at her sides, but her stance betrayed her. Shoulders drawn, legs braced, jaw tight. Like a spring coiled too long, held still by sheer will.

Her face was unreadable. Not blank, but sealed. Like a locked door with a flicker of fire burning behind it.

Caitlyn reached her in a few quick strides, then stopped.

The young Kiramman could only stare at her friend. V looked like someone who had been standing in a storm, refusing to bend, letting the wind tear at her instead. And now, with nothing left to fight, the wear showed in the lines at the corners of her mouth. In the set of her jaw. In the way her breath hitched, just once, almost too quiet to hear.

Seeing it made Caitlyn’s own composure falter.

The highborn markswoman opened her mouth to speak, but no clear words formed. Her lips trembled. No, not from fear. From guilt. Guilt sat heavy in her chest like a wet stone, dragging against her ribs.

VI saw it. She tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowing in concern.

“What happened?” VI asked, voice low and steady.

Caitlyn didn’t answer at first. Her gaze dropped, not to hide, but to gather herself. Her fingers curled at her sides. Then, barely above a whisper, the words broke free.

“I’m so sorry.”

VI squinted slightly, brow creasing. The apology struck her sideways. Intense, crushing egret, laid bare. She didn’t fully understand it. But she didn’t need to. Not when she could see how deep it cut through Caitlyn’s armour. She let the silence breathe for a second. Then, without asking questions, without demanding more, VI stepped closer and slung a strong arm around the topsider’s shoulders.

Like a shelter.

Caitlyn didn’t resist. She leaned in, letting her forehead rest against VI’s shoulder for half a breath before they turned together.

Wordless, the pair moved back toward the bar. The heavy metal door swallowed them again, cutting off the glare of the floodlights and the hum of enforcer boots. Behind them, the Lanes remained lit with cold suspicion.

“We’ll figure this out.”

…

It had been days since the enforcers descended. Days since the streets of Zaun lost their sound.

What remained of the resistance moved like ghosts now, slipping through alleys and half-lit corridors, voices lowered, hands always near steel or spark. The number of enforcers had thinned slightly - some pulled back, others repositioned - but there were still too many. Too many batons, too many rifles, too many cold, mirrored helmets standing watch over homes that had never needed protecting.

In the dim half-light of the lower streets, beneath a sagging pipe that hissed quietly with pressure, four figures stood clustered near the edge of a graffiti-covered wall.

VI stood with her arms crossed, jaw tight, her violet eyes tracking every shadow that passed. Caitlyn, a step behind her, kept her posture straight, though the weight on her face betrayed the wear. Jinx rocked back and forth on her heels, fingers twitching like she needed something to break. And Ekko - lean and sharp, a storm in a boy’s frame - stood rigid, his hands clenched into fists.

“They’re not leaving,” Jinx said, eyes darting across the street where a patrol vehicle idled. “So why don’t we just kill them?”

Her voice was loud, but lacking her usual enthusiasm. Even Jinx was unnerved, refusing to look up as she used on hand to grab onto Ekko’s leg and the other to dig in the ground with her nails.

“We throw the first punch, and they’ll torch this place down to the bedrock,” VI replied, giving her sister a sympathetic look. Jinx returned it with a shaky sigh.

“Maybe she should just go back.” The firelight leader’s voice cut through next, bitter and sharp. He was staring straight at Caitlyn.

“Doesn’t seem fair for us to suffer because she wants to play house down here,” He hissed, each word weighted with resentment. Caitlyn didn’t respond. Her silence only deepened the tension in the air.

VI sighed, giving a trying look to the boy. “C’mon…”

“C’mon what? You know I’m right.” Ekko’s brows lowered.

“Even if that works for now, all it does is tell the tyrants upstairs that pushing us around works.” The brawler rebuked.

“Okay, so what!” Ekko’s words hit like metal on stone. The boxer bit her lip and hung her head. Even Jinx stopped moving. 

“Exactly.” His anger still simmered, but lessened as the horrible truth didn’t reassure anyone. They were fucked either way. Caitlyn stood there in silence, her guilt painted across her face like ash. Her arms wrapped around herself unconsciously, a gesture of someone too aware of how out of place they suddenly felt.

Then… footsteps.

Not heavy like the enforcers. Not skittish like a local.

Measured. Even.

A figure stepped from the smoke at the alley’s edge. Cloaked in a dark poncho, face hidden behind a simple mask, worn boots tracking across the concrete without a sound.

Jinx immediately went for the flare pistol on her hip. Ekko shifted, raising one hand with his staff half-drawn. Caitlyn took a step back, scanning the stranger’s stance, searching for weapons.

Only VI didn’t move. Rather, her body tensed. Recognition flickered in her gaze like the first spark of a fuse.

“Stay here,” VI muttered. Her voice had dropped into something quieter. Heavier.

She walked forward slowly, nodding to the masked stranger. Without a word, the figure turned, slipping into a side alley. VI followed. Around the corner, out of sight from the others, the masked figure pulled off the covering with a tired grunt.

—SIDE : BROWN—

Sevika.

The one-armed veteran stood with her metal prosthetic resting casually against the wall. She had somehow aged a few years in a few days, VI thought. She kept it to herself, though. But her eyes were the same.

“What have you got yourself into now?” she muttered, flicking her cigarette away. More a statement than a question.

“Didn’t expect you.” VI shrugged off the offensive accusation in favour of more important questions.

“Yeah, well. Didn’t expect a parade of uniforms either. Funny how things turn out.” They stood there for a long beat. The younger woman expected some sort of anger or hatred to fill her, but it never came. If anything, she felt something more akin to heartache.

“I don’t suppose you came here to help,” VI said cautiously.

“I came here,” Sevika replied, dragging a hand through her messy hair, “Because every time Zaun gets kicked in the ribs, somehow you’re in the middle of it.”

She glanced up at VI, a strange look crossing her features. Then, she broke out into a truly unexpected ramble.

“You know,” Sevika began, her tone shifting, “Your mother and I… we were friends. When we were young.”

“What?” VI blinked, wholeheartedly caught off guard by the direction of this already unexpected reunion.

“Mhm. She was dumb as hell. But she had heart. Tht was more than enough for me.” Sevika looked off down the alley, as if speaking to the bricks. “Until she got the bright idea to bring kids into a hellhole like this.”

VI squinted, her jaw ticking slightly as the older woman spoke. She was almost certain she and her sister were the kids in question. Asshole.

Sevika turned her gaze back, expression carved from old stone. The lines around her mouth deepened, the weight of years and resentment sitting heavy behind her eyes.

“So I told her the truth,” the veteran rasped. “Told her she was stupid for dragging children into this hell. That they wouldn’t make it past childhood.”

“Gee, thanks,” She muttered, voice dry and offense cutting through any amusement she might’ve had.

The gambler barely blinked. Unbothered, she shrugged and slid down the nearby brick wall with a grunt, the metal of her prosthetic arm scraping against the surface as she settled into a squat. She pulled a cigarette from her coat pocket and lit it with slow purpose, letting the silence stretch.

The brawler watched her for a long beat, caught between curiosity and irritation.

“So what… You’re here because of her?” VI asked finally, voice quieter now, stripped of the bite.

Sevika let out a snort through her nose, a crooked half-smile curling on her lips.

“God, no,” she said. “If anything, I’m here in spite of her.”

VI tilted her head, eyes narrowing with suspicion, but she didn’t interrupt. That answer had left a door half-open. And Sevika, for once, didn’t slam it shut. Instead, the older woman stared off down the alley, toward the pale neon haze that flickered from the main road. Her voice, when it came again, had changed.

“But I’ll tell you one thing,” she said. “Your mom? She got us out of more than one tight squeeze. Randomest ideas. Most nonsensical plots ever. But they’d work, without fail. You’d think she was blessed by Janna herself.”

There was a pause. Then Sevika’s tone shifted again, lighter, almost teasing. “And if she were here now, seeing Piltover trying to clamp down on Zaun like it’s some wild dog,” 

VI leaned in slightly, despite herself. 

“She’d say we throw the biggest party this city’s ever seen. Bring out the lights, crank the speakers. Show those topsiders they don’t own us. Not our noise, not our joy, not our streets.” Sevika said with a low chuckle. 

VI’s lips twitched, a spark flaring behind her eyes.

“Really?” she asked. “You think she’d do that?”

Sevika gave her a crooked grin, flicking ash off the edge of her cigarette. “Yup. Loudest speakers. Strongest drink. Dumbest reason. Just to remind them that they don’t own a single soul down here.”

The tight coil inside VI finally loosened. The tension cracked. She let out a short laugh, one that didn’t sound forced this time. Her shoulders dropped, and the heat behind her eyes faded just enough to let something warmer through.

“… Sorry about before,” she said, voice lower now, edged with sincerity.

Sevika waved her off with a flick of her metal fingers. “Don’t got nothing to be sorry about. ‘S shitty situation.” she replied, taking another drag.

They stood there in a rare stillness, the alley quiet except for the hum of distant engines and the low crackle of a flickering neon sign. Smoke curled in lazy ribbons between them.

“I’ve got your back. Not that you’d need it. But I do.” Her own apology. And as VI smiled softly, Sevika could tell she recognised it as such.

“Looks like we got a party to throw!”

—SIDE : INDIGO—

The Last Drop was barely recognisable. It's typical neon lights replaced with cosier candle flames. The walls were lighter, the atmosphere felt more comfortable.

VI stood behind the bar, sleeves rolled high, forearms dusted with flour and citrus peels, a bottle in one hand and a muddler in the other. Her movements were focused but relaxed, the kind of calm that came only with distraction. Bottles clinked together as she mixed and poured with steady hands, her mind half on the drinks and half on what this night meant.

Across the room, Caitlyn was dragging stools to the edges of the floor, rolling up dusty rugs and sweeping away broken glass that had likely been there for weeks. Her brow was slightly furrowed in concentration, cheeks flushed with exertion. A fine mist of powder clung to the purple of her fitted shirt as she bent to push a heavy bench aside. Usually, there was a rhythm to her movements, precise yet graceful, like everything she did. But this time, her actions felt punctuated by something sharper, permeating the corners of her eyes as she put her all into the busywork.

A party seemed nice. But she didn’t exactly feel like the right person to enjoy it right now.

The centre of the room was slowly being cleared, revealing old wood warped with time and stained with years of spilt liquor and boot scuffs. But tonight, it would be a dance floor. 

VI looked up just in time to hear the creak of the door.

In stepped Sevika.

For once, the grizzled veteran was cleaned up. Her usual worn shirt had been swapped for a dark brown duster, and perched on her head, slightly askew, was a worn but clearly intentional cowboy hat. Her metal arm gleamed, freshly polished, and a cigar hung from the corner of her smirking mouth.

The sight brought both the younger girls to a full stop.

“Well, shit,” VI muttered under her breath. “Didn’t know this was a costume party.”

Caitlyn turned and blinked. “Sevika?” she asked, eyes widening in disbelief.

“Someone’s gotta look good tonight. Since the hosts clearly don’t intend to.” The older woman strolled in with a casual sway, one brow raised beneath the wide brim of her hat. VI and Caitlyn exchanged startled looks, both obviously having failed to consider the importance of their own appearances. And to be showed up by Sevika of all people? 

They stood there for a beat, visibly outmatched in their everyday clothes and worn boots.

“Go on. I’ll hold the fort up here. You two go put on something that says ‘Zaun doesn’t roll over.’” Sevika waved them off with her metal hand, like she had read their minds, already scanning the door as a crowd began to form by the door.

Kiramman hesitated, looking to VI for confirmation. The brawler sighed, wiped her hands on a bar towel, and nodded toward the stairs.

“Can’t let this old woman outdo me at my party…” VI muttered, her pace increasing significantly before said old woman could chastise her for the comment.

Downstairs, the air was cooler, quieter. This part of the basement had long been used for storage, but tucked into the far side was a small closet filled with remnants of another time. The scent of old perfume clung faintly to the fabrics inside, wrapped in age and dust.

“I, uh…” VI rubbed the back of her neck, “Probably don’t own… anything your style. And most of Powder’s stuff wouldn’t fit. So…”

VI the scoured the tight space before pulling out a carefully folded dress wrapped in plastic. “Ah! You could try some of my mom’s stuff… If- If that’s not weird.”

The topsider took it gently, fingers brushing over the embroidered fabric. It was deep blue, with a modest slit along one leg and delicate flowers stitched into the bust in silvery thread. She nodded once, quiet. 

“It’s beautiful.”

VI gave a sheepish shrug and quickly turned away, moving to her side of the room.

Her outfit was simpler. A black suit, the cut slightly uneven from years of being tailored by hand. She rolled up the sleeves past her elbows, revealing the faded shimmer scars along her forearms. There were crimson accents lining the cuffs and lapels, hardly visible unless the light caught them just right. She slicked back her hair, revealing the left eye she so often kept hidden behind her fringe. Surprisingly enough, that side of her face was soft and pretty much unscathed as opposed to the side that was usually exposed.

Caitlyn was also slipping into her own outfit. Thankfully, the dress fit perfectly. The slit revealed just enough of her thigh that she could already hear her mother gasping all the way back in Piltover, and the embroidered flowers shimmered faintly in the low light. Her hair was pinned back, soft strands falling along her neck. She stood there with a grace that was completely natural, even in a basement filled with boxes and dust.

Then they turned to face each other. What they didn't expect was to have both of their abilities to speak forcibly ripped from their throats.

“You - You look…” VI stumbled.

“Ah.. You’re really…” Caitlyn spluttered.

Janna, they were hopeless. They stared at each other longer than either of them meant to.

Finally, VI cleared her throat and extended an arm, brow raised, smirk returning, “Well, if I’m going to walk in with anyone tonight, might as well make it look good.”

“Caitlyn Kiramman,” she sang, voice low and playful, “May I have the honour of escorting you to the rowdiest, most inappropriate rebellion masquerading as a party that Zaun has ever seen?”

Caitlyn rolled her eyes but didn’t hide the pink that touched her cheeks. She took VI’s arm, her hand light but steady.

“You’re ridiculous,” she said softly.

“I try,” VI replied, and together, they climbed the stairs. As the music had plused through the hallways before the bar, Caitlyn could feel herself almost forgetting why she was even upset. 

Almost.

—SIDE : BLUE—

Gadgets were more fun than parties.

That’s what Jinx told herself as she stuffed a screwdriver into a piece of metal; pretending not to hear the celebration buzzing beneath the roof. She sat hunched at the edge, arms wrapped loosely around her knees, creation in her lap and blue hair drifting like loose thread in the breeze. Her boots tapped a slow, absent rhythm against the lip of the roof, a beat only she could hear.

Her shoulders tensed slightly at the sound of an engine's soft whirr approaching. But she didn’t turn. A familiar hoverboard hovered into view, its subtle light casting fluid shadows over the rooftop. 

It was Ekko. Always was.

“Look who it is. The Boy Saviour.”

He landed it with ease, the soles of his boots thudding against the old concrete. He stepped off, letting the board float behind him like a loyal dog.

“Skipping out on a party at your own home?” he said, lowering himself beside her. Jinx gave a shrug, her eyes still fixed on the dark skyline beyond. Ekko looked at her sideways, resting his elbows on his knees. She picked at a thread on her glove, her voice quieter now. “My bad. Enforcers crawling the streets doesn’t seem like a cause to party to me.” 

He nodded slowly, then tilted his head back to look at the grey expanse above.

“Yeah. But sometimes spirit’s the only thing they can’t snuff out. And that pisses them off more than bombs.”

She huffed and turned toward him with a pout, tugging at her lips. “I thought you were on my side.”

“I am.” The firelight leader gave a short, amused breath through his nose. ”Look, I still think Caitlyn going home might be the cleanest way out of this, but VI had a point. If she leaves now, it’ll just tell Piltover that they get to win every time they send enough boots.”

“Yeah, yeah. Traitor.” She narrowed her eyes. All Ekko replied with was a chuckle as he shook his head. Jinx fell silent at that, feeling her muscles relax for once.

“I don’t want her to go,” The teenager mumbled, finally. “She’s my friend, ya know? Her mom is the issue… I wish we could just get rid of her or something.”

“Get rid of her mom?” Ekko turned to look at her properly this time, eyes raised. Jinx nodded as she gave the boy a deadpan look and shot at him with finger guns.

“Pew.”

“Jeez.. You can’t expect that from her. It’s her mom. Messed up or not, that kind of bond doesn’t go away.” Ekko shook his head again. Jinx’s face soured. 

“Moms aren’t that important,” she muttered. “Didn’t have one. Turned out mostly okay.”

“You had a VI.” He rebutted. Jinx glared at him, knowing she couldn’t refute that. The wind picked up a little, tugging at her hair and jacket. She blinked rapidly once and looked away, focusing on the dark rooftops instead of the ache settling in her chest.

Trying to break the tension, Ekko straightened and stood, stretching his arms overhead before turning toward his board with a grin. “Alright. So maybe the party’s not your thing. What about something else?”

Jinx eyed him suspiciously.

He tapped the side of the hoverboard and stepped onto it. “A night out. Just you, me, and the quietest chaos Zaun has to offer.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Define quiet chaos.”

“No explosives,” Ekko said, smiling wider. “But a lot of very mild vandalism. Some rooftop tag. Maybe a prank or two on the enforcers. Just enough mischief to feel like ourselves.”

Jinx tried to hide the grin creeping across her face, but her eyes betrayed her. “And I thought you were the good kid.”

“Hah! Says who?” He guffawed. Instead of following how her childhood friend had cautiously and skillfully stepped onto the board, the ex-con sprang up and launched herself onto it. The force rocked it hard to one side, throwing the balance off instantly. Ekko lurched forward to steady it, his arms catching her instinctively before either of them could fall.

The two froze.

Jinx’s hands were pressed flat against his shoulders. Ekko’s fingers gripped her waist, steady but gentle. Their eyes locked - both wide with initial surprise yet soft with something harder to name. 

Then, Jinx coughed and looked away. Ekko, too, cleared his throat and stepped back, loosening his grip.

“Board’s, uh… sensitive,” he said.

“Sensitive board for a sensitive boy,” Jinx teased, still not looking at him, a faint pink high on her cheeks.

Rolling his eyes, the leader adjusted his footing. “You ready?”

“Hell yeah. Let’s be above it all.”

Chapter Text

—SIDE : INDIGO—

It was amazing what people could do without conventional power.

Someone had scavenged some sort of independent machinery from who knows where, attaching it to the vinyl player, and now music pulsed through the walls with infectious rhythm. Industrial lights replaced by strings of warm, coloured candles, zigzagging across the ceiling and walls like constellations. The bar was packed, tables pushed aside, and feet were already scuffing up the dance floor Caitlyn had cleared earlier that evening.

VI stood near the bar, one hand loosely curled around a half-filled glass. Her other hand rested on her hip, eyes scanning the growing crowd. People mingled in groups, their voices loud with laughter, but there was a subtle stiffness in the way some of them glanced her way, avoiding her attempts at a greeting. Familiar faces, sure. But to a version of her they hadn’t yet forgiven.

The brawler approached one group cautiously, offering a quick nod to a wiry man in a patched vest, then a woman she vaguely remembered from the smog-cleaning crew back when she was running with Silco’s lot. She greeted them with a low, "Good to see you."

The man nodded stiffly. The woman gave a polite smile but turned her attention quickly to her drink. It was all cordial. But it wasn’t warm. VI stepped back, her face unreadable. The flicker of disappointment didn’t show much, but it was there - in her shoulders, in the way her eyes dropped for just a moment.

Caitlyn watched from a few paces behind, arms loosely folded, taking in the interaction. She hadn’t missed how VI’s posture changed when the crowd didn’t lean in, didn’t meet her halfway. The sharpshooter felt the pang of something she couldn’t name. She wanted to step in to defend her, but she also knew that it wasn’t her place. And that VI would hate it. 

Just then, VI’s eyes lit up.

Across the floor, another customer had just entered - a tall woman with deliberate ropes of hazelnut hair down her back, the ends a shimmering gold and side shaven, similar to VI’s. She wore a studded leather jacket; her arms were covered in ink, some faded, some fresh. She was talking to someone near the door, her voice animated, laughing freely. VI tilted her head toward Caitlyn and smiled, the real kind, not the polite kind.

“Oh shit! That’s Gert! We used to climb the houses round here when we were kids. I nearly broke my damn leg once tryna impress her.” VI chuckled with both an air of excitement and embarrassment. The topsider smiled, curious, but stayed where she was as VI walked forward, weaving through the crowd with a practised ease. She approached Gert with a certain coolness, the kind of gait that hinted at unspoken stories.

“Hey,” VI said as she stopped in front of her.

Gert turned, looked her up and down, then grinned. “Well, well. Zaun’s Wild Card walks among us.”

 “Huh, is that what they’re calling me?” VI gave a sheepish shrug. “Anyways, just thought we could all do with a drink. And a good song. And maybe some bad decisions.”

“Sounds about Violet, for ya.” Gert laughed, warm and full. 

As they caught up, Caitlyn stayed at the edge of the floor, watching. The lighting caught the edge of VI’s black suit, her red-accented cuffs still crisp despite the heat in the room. Her hair had fallen a little from its slicked-back hold, and the strands curled slightly around her ear, just enough to soften her usual edge. The young Kiramman’s gaze then drifted from VI to Gert - and then to the woman now standing behind her.

She hadn’t noticed her at first, but the newcomer stepped in smoothly. Her eyes shimmered with magenta eyeshadow, and her black hair, catching hints of red under the lights, was swept up into two neat, perky space buns. Confidently, she placed a gentle hand on Gert’s arm. The taller woman turned, smiled, and reached back without hesitation. Their fingers intertwined. A moment later, they leaned in, foreheads brushing before lips met in a soft, easy kiss.

Caitlyn blinked. Then she watched as VI clapped once, then twice, grinning widely as she leaned back to offer her congratulations. The couple smiled, and Caitlyn could just barely make out Gert saying something back. The music drowned it out, but the words weren’t hard to guess. Caitlyn caught the way VI’s grin turned slightly more sheepish, the way her eyes darted to the side.

Then she heard it.

“When are you gonna get yourself a girlfriend, huh?”

Caitlyn froze.

Heat bloomed across her cheeks before her brain could even process it. She felt her pulse pick up, felt her fingers uncurl from where they rested at her side. Her gaze locked on VI, who only chuckled at the comment, rubbing the back of her neck in that way Caitlyn had learned meant she was flustered.

The sharpshooter stood very still.

She wasn’t sure what startled her more: the casualness of the question or how easily VI laughed it off. As if it wasn’t news to anyone. As if everyone but her had known all along. Her mouth opened slightly, then closed again. For a moment, she felt unreasonably warm in her borrowed dress. The music vibrated in her chest, or maybe that was her rapidly pacing heartbeat.

VI turned then, still smiling - catching her eye from across the room.

Caitlyn looked away quickly, suddenly very interested in the glass someone had abandoned on the nearest table.

Why did I get so excited!?

Maybe if I don’t look…

Too late. A sound she came to know too well, confident and heavy steps, neared closer.

VI approached from the side, her suit jacket slung lazily over one shoulder now, hair a little tousled from the heat of the room. Her violet eyes shimmered beneath the flames’ shadows, but there was something softer in them now, something just for her. Caitlyn turned as if she hadn't noticed her coming, though she had known VI was drawing near the entire time.

"Heyyy, watcha’ doing all alone? It’s a party, dork!” The brawler, who Caitlyn wasn’t entirely sure wasn’t drunk, flicked her nose playfully. The topsider forced a small, polite smile in response but shook her head. VI then cocked hers, her brows crinkiling in confusion.

"I’m not exactly a - people person. I’d just be awkward and make you look bad.” The sharpshooter waved the self-depreciating comment off like it was no big deal. To her, it wasn’t. She had long accepted the fact that, in situations like these, she was far more valuable on the sidelines. 

But VI didn’t seem to think so, scoffing at the comment. Not unkindly, Caitlyn could tell. More disbelief. 

“Sugar,” God, the nickname made her head spin this time around, “Everyone here is either drunk, not trying to think of the tyrannical overlords upstairs, or both. I promise ya, awkward ain’t a thing we're worried about.” Her voice held its usual grounded weight, like a hand on the shoulder. The taller woman didn’t know what to say for a while, softly chewing her lip as she cast her gaze downcast to avoid VI’s all too sincere eyes.

Amid her hesitation, a small group passed by. Four or five Zaunites, loud with laughter and mid-conversation, cups in hand, shoulders bumping as they wove through the crowd. 

“See those people? Before today, they hadn’t spoken more than a good morning to each other.” VI gave Caitlyn a look. Then she nudged her gently in the side with her elbow. The concept felt so foreign to her. How could people just… mesh so well? In her bewilderment, she didn’t realise they were approaching the group. And the moment she did, it was too late.

The young Kirraman opened her mouth to protest; before she could, she felt her body lightly jostled. It was small. A push, not a shove.

“Go on.”

Caitlyn hesitated. Her hand gripped her glass just a little tighter. But then, with a deep breath, she stepped forward.

“Uhm, uh, sorry,” she said, catching the group just as they paused to refill their drinks. “I think I overheard something about a door?”

One of them turned - a woman with a strip of teal-dyed hair and a silver ring through her brow. 

“Oh, get this.” The woman started instantly. “My bastard ex-boyfriend thought I was cheating on him - I’m nawt - so he stole my damn door! Can you believe it?” She spoke, her voice curled with a whiny yet welcoming edge. Like they were lifelong friends. And all Caitlyn could do was stare in disbelief. Thankfully, that’s a pretty reasonable reaction to such a story. 

The others laughed, and just like that, Caitlyn was grouped in. No second glances. No judgment. Her accent, her dress, her posture - all things that might’ve marked her as an outsider - seemed not to matter at all. Another woman began recounting another wild tale, this one about an accidental house fire? The sharpshooter found herself able to respond, beyond an agape mouth, this time - tentatively at first, then with more ease. Her shoulders dropped. Her laugh, light and surprised, drifted into the air. And the whole time,

She swore she could feel VI wearing the biggest ‘I told ya so’ smirk behind her.

—SIDE : BLUE—

“Vi’ll probably kill me if I get these clothes dirty…” Jinx whispered.

The two stood upon the edge of the hanging cliff - quietly over the river, its edge dusted with dried grass and broken stone, the drop below a mirror of shifting oil-slick water. Distant sounds of the city carried on the wind. Barefoot on the ledge, their boots were long abandoned somewhere in the weeds.

Jinx crossed her arms, blue hair flicking around her shoulders like frayed ribbon caught in the breeze. She peered down into the water below with one brow lifted and her nose wrinkled.

“Yeah, well, Scar would probably throw bleach on me if he caught me swimming in this toxic soup.” Ekko laughed beside her, his hoverboard hovering idle a few feet away.

“So, what you’re saying is, this would totally get us in trouble and isn’t worth the risk?” Jinx spoke purposefully, the glint in her eyes contradicting the reason in her words.

“Oh, most definitely. The responsible route would be to turn back.” The firelight leader reaffirmed.

That shared look was all it took.

…

Without another word, they both bolted, bare feet pounding over cracked stone and tangled weeds, laughter bursting from their chests. Jinx pulled her shirt over her head mid-run, flinging it behind her. Ekko kicked off his pants in one clumsy hop. Their undershirts and shorts clung to their skin from sweat and industrial air. They reached the edge together, breathless.

Then they jumped.

The drop was longer than it looked. For a moment, there was only wind and sky and each other. Then the river slammed into them with a cold, filthy embrace.

Boldly, they surfaced with splashes and curses, hair plastered to their faces, the water thick with river muck and the metallic sting of old pipe runoff. Jinx gasped and laughed all at once, flinging a handful of dark water at Ekko’s face. He ducked, retaliating with a splash to her shoulder.

“This is fuckin’ disgusting!” she called out.

“Yeah, that’s the point,” he shouted back, grinning. 

Jinx snorted so hard she choked on river water, which only made her laugh more. She flopped backwards into the shallows and kicked at him like a kid trying to escape bath time. They splashed and shouted like the kids they were, their joy unfiltered. No city, no rules, no curfews or watchful eyes. Limbs flailing and mouths open in exaggerated gasps, Jinx’s braid clung to her cheek like seaweed, her eyes wide and sparkling with mischief. She let out a shriek that turned into a laugh and immediately scooped up another handful of murky water, launching it at Ekko’s face. 

They spun and splashed and shrieked, their voices echoing off the cliffside. The water was foul, the stench unmistakable, but none of it mattered. In that moment, they were just two scrappy kids from Zaun, soaking wet and alive.

Then Ekko saw it.

Like a mural, almost, peeking out the bottom of her shirt, lining down the rest of her back. Despite being mostly covered, he could make out the word ‘VI’, of course, and what seemed like a pair of wings next to it.

He blinked. “Holy shit…”

Jinx twisted toward him swiftly, trying to see what brought the curse to his lips. Her eyes glazed defensively at him before following his gaze to her back. Ah, that wasn’t such a big deal. Relaxing, the teenager casually tossed her braid over one shoulder.

“Duh. Everyone gets one.” She shrugged.

His brows lifted. “Everyone?”

“In Stillwater?” Her face crinkled like it was the most obvious fact in the world. To this, Ekko pursed his lips and nodded quietly. What, had he forgotten or something?

“You jealous?” she sneered, floating backwards with a lazy kick. He quickly shook his head, still watching her. Not with judgment, but with something closer to concern. Though it was still a needlessly fast reply. He could’ve at least pretended to consider it for a while.

Alas, that would become the last of her worries very quickly. Before either of the two could say more, a flash of light broke across the water.

Harsh. White. Focused.

It hit Jinx directly in the face. She froze.

Her entire body stiffened, arms locking to her sides as her eyes widened. A soft, unnatural pulse began to glow in the depths of her irises. That familiar pink shimmer - gentle at first, then brighter. Her chest rose and fell too fast, like she had forgotten how to breathe.

On the ridge above, an enforcer stepped into view. He raised a heavy flashlight in one hand, the other resting casually on his hip. His helmet caught the moonlight, faceless and cold.

“You two,” he barked. “What are you doing here?”

It wasn’t a question. They both knew that.

Ekko moved fast. His body cut through the water with a single stride, positioning himself between Jinx and the source of the light. One hand rose in what he hoped looked casual, a gesture of peace rather than panic. His other arm hovered slightly behind him, ready to catch her if she jolted.

Jinx didn’t blink - her eyes wide, unfocused and glazed with a sheen that caught the light’s beam. She wasn’t looking at the enforcer; rather, her gaze passed through him, into something else, somewhere else.

“We’re just cooling off,” Ekko said, forcing his voice to stay level. “It’s hot. Long day.”

His tone was neither aggressive nor submissive, a calculated neutrality he’d learned from years of surviving authority. He didn’t blink as the light stayed trained on them.

Still, the enforcer said nothing.

Behind him, Jinx remained completely still. Her body no longer trembled. Her mouth hung slightly open. The only sign she was even conscious was the faint, erratic flicker of pink shimmer pulsing through her irises. Her fingers, just beneath the surface of the water, twitched with the rhythm of a breath she had forgotten to take.

“You. Girl. Step forward. What’s wrong with your eyes?” The voice came again. This time, harsher. Closer. Ekko winced, stepping forward, more firmly this time and shielding her fully. His heart pounded behind his ribs, but his face betrayed none of it.

“She’s just tired.” He called out. There was a pause. A long one. The flashlight remained fixed. The beam glared across the water’s surface like a silent accusation. Behind Ekko, Jinx didn’t hear the words anymore. Everything around her had faded into a distant hum.

No, not hum. A ringing.

A relentless, maddening

ringing.

[Powder sat curled in the farthest corner, as small as her frame would allow. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her knees, chin buried between them. She rocked back and forth with subtle rhythm.

"Violet," she murmured.

The name came like a prayer. Her voice cracked every few repetitions, her throat dry, her lips split from lack of water and the metallic air.

"Violet."

It was all she had. Everything else had been taken at the gate.

Her uniform hung off her thin frame like it didn’t belong to her. Too big. But she hadn’t cried since they first put her in here. 

"Violet."

An officer stopped in front of her cell.

Broad through the shoulders, thick-necked, with a nose that had never been broken. His fingers twitched as he stared at the girl balled up in the corner.

"She hasn’t moved since they brought her in?"

“No. Nothing. Just muttering that name.”

"Looks like defiance to me,"  He muttered, stepping inside.

Powder didn’t flinch when the door screeched open.

“On your feet.”

She whispered again, barely audible.

"Violet," 

The officer’s eyes narrowed.

“You wanna make this harder? On your feet, now.”

The air shifted.

In three quick strides, he crossed the cell and grabbed her by the hair, a fistful of tangled blue braid, yanking her upward with brutal force.

Her body unfolded with the motion; she had no strength to stand. Her legs wobbled and gave way, and she collapsed into his grip. Her knees scraped the floor.

“Pathetic,”

Still, Powder said nothing. Just repeating her prayer.

“Violet.”

Then came the first strike.

The baton crashed down on her back, hard enough to knock the air from her lungs. Her mouth opened in a silent gasp. Her arms came up instinctively, not to fight, only to shield. Another blow. Her shoulder. Her side.

The third strike made her cry out, a broken sound that filled the cell for just a second before vanishing into the walls.

Her body trembled.

She couldn’t take it. Her limbs gave way, and she collapsed to the floor in a twisted heap. Face first, like always. Her muscles seized and failed.

A sudden warmth spread down her leg.

The enforcer laughed.

“Look at that. Unstable bladder. Note that down. Probably an addict.”

The cell door slammed shut behind him.

The light overhead buzzed.

She lay there for a long time, too battered to move, the side of her face pressed to the floor, cheeks wet, body soaked in humiliation.

She whispered again.

“Violet.”]

“Powder?"

“JINX!”

Jinx knelt in the shallows, her shoulders hunched —

When did she get out of the water and into the freezing air?

When did she kneel on the riverbank?

And when did this enforcer lose his eyes? 

— fingers curled tightly around a body. 

A uniform. A crumpled enforcer lay beneath her, the front of his vest soaked red, his helmet discarded and dented, his face mangled. Empty holes where his eyes used to rest.

Without a moment's thought, Ekko surged forward, arms slicing through the current, ignoring the sting of grime in his eyes. Near the bank, the water thickened. Still, he pushed through reeds, garbage, and the reek of rust until he reached the shallow rocks.

Her hands were slick with blood, caught somewhere between letting go and clinging harder. Ekko’s breath caught. He stepped forward slowly, water dripping from his clothes, feet sinking into the mud with every step.

“...Jinx?” he said, his voice soft, both with concern and in hesitation to use the name. Briefly, but finally, her eyes darted to him; then back to her steady, stained hands. Her head was low, soaked hair grasping her face. Electric air swam all around like something still hummed just beneath her skin. Her whole body trembled with the aftershock of what she had done.

But her hands were still.

He reached her slowly, like his hand was penetrating some impregnable forcefield. Water lapped at his thighs, quieter now, as if nature, too, was holding its breath. The teenage girl’s knees sank into her body; posture folded inward, shoulders locked high, and spine curved like a bow that had long since forgotten how to release. The boy’s hand hovered in mid-air, fingers spread in cautious intent. Then, after a beat, he let it drop gently between her shoulder blades. The contact was feather-light.

She didn’t move.

He didn’t speak.

So, then, he shifted closer, the water sloshing softly around his waist as he moved. Inch by inch, he closed the space between them, his breath caught somewhere between concern and caution. Carefully, he lowered himself beside her, feeling the cold of the water he had just emerged from battle with the scorching heat that refused to leave her skin. Powder burned with something he could not name. It latched to her like a second layer. 

He let his arms wrap gently around her, slow and deliberate.

His cheek came to rest against her head. He was sure the murky water dripping from his locs wasn’t the most comfortable feeling in the world, but she didn’t move. He could feel her breathing: shallow and fast. Ginger finger brushed the soaked fabric at her back, curling lightly around the damp curve of her spine. Tracing the line of her ribs with the softest pressure, he hoped she could feel it. Hoping she would know he was still here.

And she sank into him. Brittle and exhausted, her body folded in against his.

“Ah…hah… Violet’s gonna be mad at me…” A string of exasperated and shaky words left her lips; her eyes fiercely fixated on something across the horizon. Ekko wasn’t even entirely sure that she was speaking to him. But he was there. So it didn’t matter.

“Think about that stuff later.” Shrugged the boy.

—SIDE : RED—

The party had dwindled. What was once a roar of laughter and stomping boots had softened into low voices and the occasional clink of glass. The Last Drop still glowed with warm, uneven light, casting long shadows across the floor. Stragglers lingered in quiet corners, the night air leaking in through the open door, heavy with the smell of sweat, alcohol, and old metal.

VI moved through the space with a practised ease, scooping up discarded cups and nudging chairs back into place with her boot. Her sleeves were rolled past her elbows, and the black of her suit was creased at the collar. She looked tired, but good. The kind of tired that came after something worthwhile.

As she reached to pick up a crumpled napkin, her gaze lifted to the far side of the room. There, against the far wall, Caitlyn was talking with Sevika. And, for a moment, VI smiled. Caitlyn really was getting out of her shell now.

But then she noticed the tension.

Sevika stood with her arms crossed, her brow raised in that way that rarely meant anything friendly. Caitlyn was nodding politely, her posture straight, her hands clasped behind her back, but there was a tightness in her mouth. A flicker of discomfort in her eyes. Kiramman would throw something out, only to be met with a stiff, curt response from the gambler. Then there was silence between them, heavy and awkward.

VI’s smile faded pretty quickly, placing the cups aside and crossing the room.

“Hey,” she said, slipping between them with an easy grin, her voice light. “Party’s dying down. You wanna get some air?”

Caitlyn’s eyes met hers, and there was a quiet kind of relief there.

“Sounds lovely,” she said softly. Sevika gave a grunt and turned away without a word. VI didn’t look back.

Outside, the city was quieter than usual. The streetlamp near the stoop flickered in soft intervals, and the sky above was a dark bruise of clouds and pollution. VI sat on the edge of the steps, patting the spot beside her. Caitlyn lowered herself down with more grace than the cracked concrete deserved. She tucked her skirt beneath her knees and let out a long breath.

“I don’t think she’s a fan.” The topsider mumbled, smiling awkwardly.

“Sev? Oh, don’t take it personally. I’ve known her for years, and I’m not even sure she likes me.” VI asked, side glance playful but edged with concern. They sat in silence for a moment, the cool air brushing across their faces. Then Caitlyn spoke again, more quietly.

“Back in Piltover, I was a bit of a misfit, too. But not in the cool way. In the no one liked me - uhm - way.” Her words felt chopped and minced, like it was a struggle to form the sentence. The brawler turned toward her, one brow raised.

“I- I mean, it probably sounds silly. To complain about that to you. Because, you know…” The young Kirraman laughed, but it was hollow. Nervosity set in her eyes, her left hand wrapped around her right thumb, cradling it. Damnit, why did I even start talking?

“‘S not silly. Pain ain’t a numbers thing. You don’t get more of a right to feel it the more you experience it, ya know?” Was all VI replied with; her voice low. She leant back on her arms, head lazily turning over to the sharpshooter, as if giving her the go-ahead to let it all out.

“I always thought my parents were too focused on appearances. The clothes, the parties, the optics. It all felt so hollow to me. I didn’t care about any of it.” Caitlyn’s voice came haltingly at first, caught between shame and a need to finally speak. 

“I wanted to help people. Actually, help them. Not just throw money at problems and hope they disappear.” She paused, chest rising with a breath that trembled as it left her. Her fingers tightened around the fabric of her dress. 

“I thought joining the Enforcers would be the way to do that. I thought it would mean something. That it would matter. But as fate would have it…” Her voice cracked slightly, hands dropping into her lap. She stared down at them like they might offer answers she couldn’t find in words.

“Everything I believed in, I admired… It all turned out to be…” She shook her head, her throat tightening. A whisper, bitter and quiet: 

“Rotten.” 

The word hung in the air between them.

“Maybe it’s in my blood. Maybe I’m rotten too.”

“You aren’t.” 

VI swiftly replied, her gaze softening. Her tone made it sound like it was just a fact she was correcting. No panic, no convincing. Just a self-assured statement. The sharpshooter didn’t respond right away.

Rather, Caitlyn stayed fixed on VI’s face. Her eyes, in particular. Sharp as glass, yet just as fragile in the right light. Searching them. Not for proof, perhaps, but for sincerity. For something she had rarely found in Piltover.. The Zaunite bruiser held her gaze, silent and still, letting her have the time she needed. Besides, she herself felt equally lulled by Kirraman’s eyes, the epitome of beauty and compassion, all of which radiated from her kind face.

“I know I was harsh when we first met. I’m sorry for all that. But, I can tell… You have a good heart.” VI leaned forward slightly, resting her arms on her knees. Her posture was relaxed, but her expression carried the weight of someone who knew that feeling too well. 

Finally, Caitlyn blinked and looked away, her voice quieter now. “...You do, too.”

Before the two could share a word more, the focus shifted.

An enforcer. Same asshat from earlier.

Uniform was crisp, the fabric still stiff with recent starch. But there was no visor to shield his face, no illusion of neutrality. No anonymity, either. His eyes narrowed the moment he spotted the two women seated on the stoop, and his jaw set with quiet suspicion. He strode closer.

“What the hell do you want now?” VI was on her feet before he’d fully approached. Her frame straightened, calm dropping from her like a shed layer. Her voice sharpened, cutting through the air with all the warmth of a drawn blade.

“You alright, Councillor?” The enforcer barely looked at her. His gaze slid past, fixing on Caitlyn with something almost polite, almost patronising.

Caitlyn rose as well, brushing dust from the hem of her dress with a composed flick of her wrist. Her tone stayed level. “I’m not a Councillor,” she corrected. “And I’m perfectly fine. You can leave now.”

The man hesitated. His brow furrowed. “With all due respect, ma’am, does this woman have you in a… precarious situation?” His eyes darted between the two of them. The words came slowly, like he knew they were dangerous but couldn’t stop them. “I just can’t imagine any other reason for defending them.”

There was a pause. 

Then Caitlyn straightened, the full weight of her lineage and training settling into her spine. Her voice, when she spoke, was cold enough to crack glass.

“Firstly, I am truly sorry for whatever bleak, loveless life you’ve lived that’s made you incapable of understanding something as basic as caring for someone.”

The enforcer blinked, caught off guard.

Caitlyn stepped forward, every inch the daughter of power, but nothing about her felt distant or performative. Just sharp. Steady. Imbued in her.

“And secondly,” she added, tone even sharper now, “I’m not defending her. I’m defending you.”

She turned back to VI with a small smile, then glanced once more at the enforcer.

“You’re dismissed.”

The man’s jaw clenched. His mouth twitched with something he didn’t dare say aloud. He turned, muttering beneath his breath, something about them coming back and consequences. Neither woman responded.

Once he disappeared into the shadows, Caitlyn let out a slow breath. Her arms wrapped around herself, fingers clenching at her elbows.

“I keep making things worse,” she murmured, her voice quieter now, tight with shame. “Every time I open my mouth”

VI leaned in, the tension in her shoulders slipping away. She nudged Caitlyn’s cheek with two knuckles, a lopsided grin tugging at her mouth.

“Actually,” she said, “that was pretty fuckin’ badass, Miss Almost-Councillor.”

Caitlyn’s eyes lifted, surprise flickering through her guilt.

“And you’re right. Zaun isn’t defenceless. In fact, we’re masters in swinging back. Especially me. Hence the...” VI rolled one sleeve up her arm and flexed with exaggerated pride, her voice dropping into a mock boast. That pulled a laugh from Caitlyn. Not the polite, diplomatic kind. A real one. Soft and sudden, like it had snuck up on her.

“Stop that,” she said, swatting VI lightly on the shoulder. But she didn’t move away. They stayed there, sitting close in the warm candlelight, the sounds of the city faint in the distance. Their smiles lingered longer than they meant to.

Then, another pair of footsteps approached. Much faster, but not as heavy.

Not enforcers. 

But… Powder and Ekko?

The door flung open, banging loudly against the wall. Ekko burst inside, soaked from head to toe, mud smeared across his pants, panting as though he had sprinted halfway across Zaun. Powder followed just a breath behind, her steps lighter, but her face was unreadable. Her soaked braid swung at her back, and water dripped from her elbows.

They didn’t look at either of them. Just ran straight through the bar’s entrance and vanished inside.

“Hey!” VI called after them. “What you guys been up to — ”

The door swung closed behind them, the echoing thud making VI wince.

“What the hell…” VI stared at the door, her smile gone, replaced with something taut. The feeling in her gut shifted, sharp and uneasy.

—SIDE : GREEN—

The rusted door to the back hallway creaked open, the kind of sound that always gave away someone trying to move quietly. A pair of boots stepped into the bar, mismatched laces dragging through the dust. Ekko emerged slowly from the corridor, his hair still damp and wild, his shirt clinging to him from residual river water. 

He was wearing some of VI’s old clothes - a loose black tank that hung awkwardly on his slimmer frame and a pair of her old cargo pants cinched tight with a belt. The pants were rolled twice at the ankle. He looked ridiculous. But also, somehow, like he meant to wear them that way.

VI looked up from behind the bar, a dishrag draped over one shoulder.

“Are you wearing my clothes?” she asked, arching a brow.

Ekko didn’t miss a beat. “You mad they look better on me?”

The woman snorted, rolling her eyes. “Alright, fashion icon. What the hell happened?”

Ekko’s smirk faltered just slightly. Scratching the back of his neck, Ekko moved with that awkward teenager shuffle he still hadn’t quite shaken.

“We didn’t get into trouble,” he said quickly, which was, in every possible way, the worst answer he could have given.

 “That’s not what I asked.” VI dropped the rag on the bar. Her jaw tensed.

“Well, that’s what I answered,” Ekko muttered, a little louder, the faintest edge of defensiveness threading his voice. That only made VI narrow her eyes.

“Right. That just means you did something that could’ve got you into trouble,” she pressed, crossing her arms. Ekko looked away, his lips pressing into a thin line. The silence pressed between them like a stone wall. A couple of stragglers from the party drifted out, leaving the bar quieter. More private.

“What do you want me to say, huh? That it’s fine? That she’s fine?” Finally, the firelight leader exhaled, his voice low. 

“I want the truth. Whatever the hell happened out there, you’re both soaked, and Pow won’t speak a word to anyone.” VI’s voice shifted from stern to pleading, ever so slightly. The boy’s mouth twisted, jaw tight. His eyes wandered, like he was considering it.

“An enforcer approached us…” Ekko’s voice finally cut through the tension in the room. Low, steady, but edged with something hard. Something old. VI froze. Her arms dropped from her chest, hands loosening by her sides as if her body had forgotten what to do now that the truth had landed. Ekko glanced away, his mouth curling into something that wasn’t quite a sneer, but close. 

“A fresh enforcer patrol and someone barely out of Stillwater? That’s a brilliant mix.” His tone soured as his eyes drifted, not subtly, toward Caitlyn. The implication was clear. 

VI took a slow step forward, her voice quiet, but sharpened by a sadness too heavy to be disguised.

“Does she talk to you?” she asked. “About it, I mean…”

Ekko didn’t answer right away. He just gave a small shrug. It looked casual, but there was caution stitched into the movement, like he was weighing every word before it left his mouth.

“It’s not like I ask,” he said eventually. “It just… happens.”

VI dragged a hand across her face, her palm rough against her skin. Her eyes flicked to the door that led downstairs, where Powder had vanished earlier. Her stare lingered there, quiet and aching. Ekko followed her gaze, then met it with his own. There was no heat in his eyes now. Just the weight of knowing too much and not being able to fix any of it.

“I’m her sister.” VI stepped back a little, like she’d been hit with her own words. Her voice was barely above a whisper. “I should know.”

“And I’m not,” Ekko said, his tone calm but firm. “Maybe that’s why I do.”

Across the room, seated at the bar with a near-empty glass in hand, Caitlyn finally spoke. Her voice was quiet, cautious. She had been listening, but not intruding. “Maybe she didn’t want to worry you.”

VI gave a dry laugh. One without humour. “It’s my job to worry. I practically signed a contract the day she was born.”

She ran a hand through her hair, the strands slightly damp with sweat and the heat of the long night. Ekko leaned against the nearest table, arms folding across his chest. His voice dropped even lower now, edged with something bitter.

“And it’s her job to make sure you don’t. At least, in her mind.”

That quieted everything. Only the buzz of a flickering ceiling light filled the space between them. The kind of silence that meant something had landed too deep to answer right away.

“Give her space.” At the far end of the bar, Sevika didn’t lift her head. She sat with her arms sprawled across the table, a half-burnt cigar balanced in one hand. Her voice came out low, dry, worn from too many nights like this one. 

VI didn’t reply, just stared down at her hands, knuckles white where they clenched the edge of the counter. Ekko adjusted the collar of VI’s borrowed tank, clearly ready to be anywhere else.

“ Oh, by the way…” Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, “She has a tattoo.”

VI’s head snapped up. Unlucky for her, Ekko was already at the door, slipping through with a prepared ease before she could catch so much as her breath to ask more. It swung shut behind him, leaving only the faint smell of river water and an array of confusing emotions.

“Kid’s more hardcore than you,” Sevika commented with a sly grin.

“Fuck off.” VI hissed, swiping the dirty rug off her shoulder and quickly pacing herself to the stairwell.

—SIDE : BLUE—

Powder sat on the edge of her bed, legs tucked up, fingers tangled in the ends of her blue braid. She twisted the strands slowly, absentmindedly; her breathing came uneven, shallow, stuck somewhere between crying, screaming, and nothing at all. 

A single lantern rested at the head of her bed, casting dull light across the walls. Her shadow loomed across the mattress behind her, stretched out like something heavier than she could carry.

The door creaked open. Powder didn’t look up, but she knew who it was. VI. It always was. The sound of the boots, the way they paused just outside the door, as if unsure whether to enter, was unmistakable.

VI didn’t say anything at first. Just leaned forward against the top bunk, resting her forehead against the worn metal railing. From there, she looked down at her sister, quiet, cautious. Like she was afraid she might scare her off if she moved too quickly.

It was the same way she used to watch her when they were kids. When Powder would crawl under the blankets after a nightmare, and VI would peek over the edge and wait until she was ready to speak.

Powder felt it.

Without looking up, she scooted to the side. A small movement. A silent invitation. VI took it, lowering herself slowly to sit beside her on the edge of the mattress. The bed creaked under her weight. Still, neither spoke.

The silence stretched. One breath. Then another.

“Wanna talk, Pow?” VI asked softly. Powder’s cheeks puffed out as she bit her bottom lip. Her eyes were red from earlier, but dry now. She looked at VI, then at her lap, then back again. The words tangled in her throat like thread knotted too tight.

Instead, she raised her arm. It was wrapped in white bandages, uneven and stained near the elbow. She held it up slowly, with the kind of hesitation that came from both fear and trust. Shakily, she pointed at it with her free hand, her voice having fled her throat.

VI’s brow furrowed. Then she nodded with understanding, reaching forward as her hands, her fingers brushed lightly against her sister’s wrist. She started to peel the bandages back, slow and delicate.

The cloth unravelled inch by inch. Powder’s eyes never left VI’s face. They were wide, watery, and bracing. Expecting something. Dreading it.

VI’s breath caught as the skin was revealed.

The wounds ran up Powder’s forearm, angry and fresh. Jagged welts and healing bruises crisscrossed her pale skin. Not self-inflicted, most of them weren’t, but deliberate. Placed. Precise. With an untold cruelty that boiled the older sister’s blood and sank her heart to her stomach. She didn’t speak, her fingers stilled over the final layer of gauze.

“When I see them… the enforcers… It’s like lookin’ at this.” Powder’s voice cracked like splintered glass. She pointed to her arm, barely touching it with a trembling finger. “It makes me scared… in my belly. In my bones. Even when I know I’m not there anymore, it’s like I am. And I don’t wanna be.”

VI’s throat tightened, but she didn’t interrupt. 

“Sometimes I don’t even mean to. I just… I just react. B- But I’m not bad. I don’t wanna be bad.” The small girl sniffed hard, the words tumbling out now, shaky and clumsy. Tears welled up in her eyes again, big and quiet as her bottom lip quivered.

“Please don’t be mad at me, Vi…”

That was all she could manage.

The rest dissolved into a sob.

VI didn’t hesitate.

She reached forward and pulled her sister into her arms, wrapping her up tightly, carefully, like she could keep the world from ever touching her again. Powder’s head pressed into her chest, her thin frame trembling as she wept. VI’s chin rested on top of her hair, and her own eyes blurred with tears she hadn’t planned on shedding.

“I’m not mad,” VI whispered. “Not at you. Never at you.” 

Powder clung to her like a child, like she used to. Her fingers fisted into the fabric of VI’s shirt, the little sounds in her throat breaking VI’s heart into pieces. She rocked her gently, back and forth. VI was surely crying too, now. Lacking a second thought, Powder’s hands reached up to cradle her face. Well, less cradle and more press her open palms to her cheeks and hope it worked. VI’s own coarse hands rested themselves gently on her outstretched arms, leaning into the touch.

“You’re a good kid, Pow.” She hummed, “Such a good kid.”

—SIDE : RED—

The music had stopped hours ago.

Downstairs, Powder slept soundly. Her frame was curled beneath a heap of patchwork blankets, her arms freshly bandaged, skin pale against the linen. Her breath was steady, soft, a rhythm that VI hadn’t heard in far too long. The weight of the night lingered in her bones, but seeing her sister resting, unburdened even for a moment, gave her just enough peace to sit still.

VI and Caitlyn lingered on the couch before the bed and behind the cracked front window, bathed in the orange flicker of a lamp that buzzed faintly on the table. The boxer had her legs stretched out in front of her, one arm resting along the backrest, the other lazily hanging over her knee. Her posture was open, grounded, taking up space without apology. Across from her, Caitlyn sat curled into herself, knees pulled up beneath her dress, one arm looped around them while the other cradled a half-empty glass of something cheap and warm.

“She’s pretty small for her age,” VI murmured, breaking the silence gently, her voice quiet enough not to disturb the stillness. “Powder, I mean. Always was. Even as a baby, they said she was premature. Could wrap your hand around her whole ribcage.” She paused, glancing at the bed. “But now she looks even smaller. Like the world’s been carving pieces off her.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t exactly know what’s standard, since I’m taller than most of my peers.” The topsider winked at VI with a teasing look. The shorter woman rolled her eyes and snorted, shaking her head. 

“You’re such an asshole.”

The sharpshooter grinned, eyes glinting in the low light. “Takes one to know one.”

Their laughter faded into something softer. Not silence, exactly, but comfort. They both leaned back a little, sinking deeper into the couch. The shadows on the walls swayed as the lamplight flickered. Outside, the occasional hiss of steam from the undercity’s vents echoed faintly, like a lullaby only Zaun knew how to hum.

VI tilted her head and looked over at her companion. Caitlyn’s hair had come loose, a few strands falling near her cheek, catching the light like silk. Her legs remained tucked under her, her spine straight but not stiff. She looked tired, but beautiful in a way VI wasn’t used to seeing - unguarded, present.

Caitlyn shifted, resting her chin on her knee, glancing sideways. “You always take up this much space?”

“A girl’s gotta breathe.” The brawler grinned. 

“And claim the entire couch in the process?” The young Kiramman playfully mumbled.

“You know what they say. No better kingdom than a couch.” VI shrugged.

Caitlyn arched a brow. She was pretty sure no one said that. 

“Am I a guest in your kingdom, then?”

“Mmm… Nah, not just a guest.” VI’s smirk curved lazily. “You’re sitting in the throne beside mine.”

Their eyes met, and the air shifted. Not heavy, but dense. Charged.

Neither looked away.

VI leaned in slowly, instinct guiding her more than thought, like her brain and body were in tandem for once. It wasn’t sudden. It wasn’t hesitant either. There was no speech, no clever comment to fill the silence. Just the electric closeness between them, the warmth of shared air, the quiet thrum of something building.

Her hand reached out, brushing gently against Caitlyn’s knee, fingers lingering there - not to hold her down, but to ask, to offer, to bridge the last inch between fear and something far softer. She watched Caitlyn’s face, searching for any sign of resistance. There was none. Only breath held between them, and those impossibly blue eyes widening just slightly.

VI closed the distance, slow enough that Caitlyn could feel it coming, fast enough that the moment wouldn’t break under the weight of its own tension.

Their lips met like a question being answered. Quiet at first. Soft. A gentle press, more feeling than motion. Not rushed. Not greedy. Just contact. Just the truth. Caitlyn’s breath caught in her chest, but her eyes fluttered shut, and she leaned into it, into her. VI tilted her head slightly, her other hand lifting, fingers brushing along the edge of Caitlyn’s jaw, tentative and reverent. Caitlyn responded with the same aching care, her fingers rising to touch the boxer’s forearm, to keep herself grounded. The world could’ve cracked open, swallowed them whole and neither of them would have noticed.

When they pulled apart - slowly, naturally - it was only by a fraction. Their foreheads rested together, breaths mingling, hearts racing.

What had they done?

Chapter Text

—SIDE : INDIGO—

Caitlyn assumed a kiss was usually symbolic of a blossoming, new relationship. 

If that was the case, why was this happening? 

Why weren’t they talking? Why was VI evading her? How were things seemingly more tense than before?

Did she mess up? Again?

She sighed into the rim of her glass, elbows resting on the bar's wooden edge as she stirred the amber liquid with the tip of her finger. The muffled buzz of conversation in the room blurred into background noise, a static she couldn't quite focus on. Her mind was still stuck on the rooftop from last night, replaying that moment over and over like it might shift if she studied it hard enough. But VI had barely looked at her since. Not even a sarcastic jab in passing. Just silence.

"You're brooding," Jinx's voice piped up beside her, lilting with amusement as she plopped down onto the stool next to Caitlyn with far too much energy for the dim-lit bar.

Caitlyn didn't look at her. "I'm not brooding."

"You are so brooding. In fact, you could go brood-for-brood with ‘Vika if ya really wanted.” Jinx flagged the bartender with a grin, attempting to order ‘hard alcohol, in her own words, before being vehemently denied by the panicky server, making the young Kiramman let out a small, dry laugh. Caitlyn was at least relieved that Jinx seemed to be doing better than the days before. 

“Alright, spill it. What’s gotcha so down in the dumps?” Tilting her head, the teenager eyed her with a mixture of genuine curiosity and mischief. Caitlyn’s eyes averted from the girl at the question. This probably - no, definitely - wasn’t appropriate to discuss with the little sister of the girl she was pining over. Instead, she opted to take a long sip of her drink, as if it might give her the courage to lie. Or confess. Either option felt like a trap. Jinx just waited patiently, spinning the edge of her coaster, looking far too amused for someone watching a personal meltdown.

"It’s nothing. It's stupid."

"No, duh, it’s stupid. Talk."

Caitlyn exhaled hard through her nose, jaw tightening. She hadn't planned to say anything. But the bar felt safe, the dim light forgiving, and Jinx, chaotic as she was, had a strange way of drawing things out of people. The words came out before Caitlyn could think better of them. Quiet. Rushed. Like they’d been waiting just behind her lips all day.

“I kissed VI,” she mumbled, her voice barely audible over the clinking of glasses behind the bar. “A few nights back. Or, she kissed me? And I kissed back? Something like that.”

Jinx blinked once. Then again. Her smirk faded into something more confused. She looked at the woman as if she hadn’t finished her sentence. “So…?”

“So–! Now she won’t talk to me. Not a word. She’s acting like I don’t exist.” Kiramman rubbed at her temple, frustration simmering beneath the surface. With a thud, her glass clinked against the bar.

“Huh, that’s weird. I’m pretty sure VI does that kind of stuff at Madame’s brothel all the time,” Jinx mused out loud, her voice lilting with confusion as she twirled a swizzle stick between her fingers. “I mean… I heard some of the girls talking about it.”

Caitlyn turned sharply in her stool, staring at her with wide, tired eyes.

“That’s not what I wanted to hear right now,” She said flatly, dragging a hand down her face.

“What? Just sayin’.” Jinx raised her hands innocently, her boots kicking lightly at the stool’s legs as she reclined. 

Caitlyn sighed, pressing her lips into a thin line. The idea that the kiss she had lost sleep over might have meant nothing to VI twisted something unpleasant in her gut. Her mind immediately tried to push it aside. She didn’t want to think about VI kissing other people like that, especially if it came easily to her.

“But,” Jinx added, stretching out the word, “she might just be freakin’ out. Y’know, scared. Because it’s you.”

Caitlyn blinked. “What does that mean?”

“I mean, the princess of topside and the golden girl of Zaun? She’s probably worried about some sort of, I dunno, scandal?” The wild-haired troublemaker tilted her head, eyebrows raised like it should have been obvious. 

“She’d totally let that kind of dumb pressure mess with her head.” Jinx gave a lopsided grin and leaned back until her head touched the wood of the bar counter, her long legs swinging lazily beneath her.

That... wasn’t a bad point. Caitlyn’s brow furrowed as she stared into the reflection in her glass, the ice long since melted. She hadn’t even considered what the kiss might have meant to VI. Not really. In her frustration and confusion, all she had thought about was her own expectations, her own feelings.

Of course, VI would feel the pressure. There were unspoken walls between them, between Piltover and Zaun. And maybe, to VI, the kiss had meant something big. Something too big. As big as the divide between their origins. 

Caitlyn felt the beginnings of guilt stir in her chest. She had been so caught up in VI’s silence that she hadn’t stopped to imagine the weight the other woman might be carrying. Giving her time... maybe that was the right call. Maybe things would settle on their own. Her thoughts blurred slightly, folding in on themselves, and she almost didn’t register Jinx’s voice chattering again beside her.

“Or – just hear me out – you talk to her,” Jinx said in a sing-song voice, flipping her braid over her shoulder. “Like, use words. Use your mouth, lips, and teeth. Not for kissing. Or – maybe? After the talking, though.”

The words floated past Caitlyn’s ears, half-heard. She nodded vaguely, still staring into her drink as if it might give her the answers she was looking for. But the gears in her mind had already started turning.

Maybe letting VI hide would make things better.

—SIDE : FADED RED—

[The shimmer of the canal caught the dying light of Zaun’s green-tinted dusk, turning the water a murky gold. The air smelled of copper and oil.

A four-year-old girl, Violet, sat at the edge of the bank, legs dangling over the ledge. Her boots were too big for her, one tied with fraying laces, the other missing them altogether. Her elbows rested on her knees, hands fidgeting with a frayed thread at the hem of her vest.

Next to her sat Silco, sharp-featured and silent, a cigarette slowly burning between his fingers. He stared at the canal as if it might speak to him, or perhaps as if it already had and he simply did not like what it said. For a long while, neither of them spoke. The stillness wasn’t uncomfortable. Violet had always liked the quiet when it was like this. Safe.

She shifted, tilting her head toward him without looking directly. Her voice, when it came, was light and curious.

“D’ya love Uncle Vander?”

A sudden interjection. Accompanied by a wide, bright-eyed stare that seemed to burn through Silco’s leather jacket. His hand stilled mid-motion, the cigarette hovering just by his lips, but never reaching them. He glanced at her with a faint flicker in his eye, something caught between surprise and caution.

“...That’s quite the question,” he said slowly, dragging the words out as if buying time.

“Mama says you guys used to be the best of friends.” Violet shrugged.

Silco’s gaze returned to the water. He took a long breath, the kind that tasted more of memory than air.

“I did,” he said at last. “Love him, I mean. Once.”

He didn’t elaborate. He didn’t have to. The weight in his voice made it clear the answer cost something.

“But you still care about him?” Violet asked, twisting to look up at him properly now.

Silco nodded, almost imperceptibly. “Always.”

A beat passed. Then two.

“Then, why aren’t you friends anymore?”

The question landed softly but settled with a thud between them. Silco’s expression did not shift, but something subtle in his shoulders changed. They grew tighter, drawn inward like something had been struck too close to bone.

“That’s… complicated,” he said.

“I can handle complicated!” Violet replied immediately, puffing up her chest just a bit.

“Maybe you can,” Silco smirked, not unkindly. “But sometimes complicated is better left alone. For now.”

The girl opened her mouth to argue, then caught something in his tone and closed it again. She scuffed the toe of her boot against the stone beneath her.

“Alright,” she said at last, though her voice held a trace of sulk. Then she added, quieter, “I just don’t want to end up like you two.”

Silco turned to her fully now. “What do you mean?”

“I think I love someone,” Violet muttered, eyes fixed on the water. Her voice had lost its earlier playfulness, replaced by something rawer, more unsure. 

“She plays one of those instrument thingies. I really like it.” She paused, then added, “But I don’t wanna end up like you two saddies who don’t talk to each other.”

For a moment, Silco just stared at her. Then he let out a short laugh, low and rough, but genuine. With a rare fondness in his expression, he reached over and flicked her lightly on the. The child yelped, swatting at him with mock indignation.

“What was that for!?”

“For being smarter than you look,” he said with a crooked grin. “And for making me feel old.”

Violet grinned back, teeth sharp, eyes glinting. “Good! You are old!”

Silco chuckled again, shaking his head. The shadows lengthened around them as the last light of the day drained from the Zaun skyline, but neither of them moved. They just sat there, side by side, a little bruised, a little bonded, and quiet again.]

—SIDE : RED—

A vermilion bed, decorated in flowers, groaned softly beneath VI’s weight as she sat perched on its edge. Her elbows were braced against her knees, fingers woven tightly together, thumbs twitching in nervous rhythm. Her usual rough-edged confidence had evaporated the moment she stepped through the velvet-draped entrance of the leisure she once frequently indulged in. 

The brothel.

As always, the atmosphere inside was thick with perfume, smoke, and the sweet buzz of laughter behind closed doors. Amber lanternlight bathed the walls in a warm, sultry hue, brushing gold along the curve of velvet couches and the glint of polished glasses. Every breath was filled with incense, soft and cloying, curling like silk ribbons through the corridors.

Behind her, a woman draped over the mattress observed her with casual amusement. Karia, of whom VI was a regular, curled a finger through her midnight hair; her gleaming silk barely resting over her hips. She looked as though she had been sculpted to fit the setting – languid, poised, and untouchable. Her eyes flicked over VI with slow precision, reading every line of her rigid posture.

“You gonna tell me why you’re sitting there like a kicked pup, or do I have to guess?” Karia purred, her voice like dark wine over ice, crawling over the brawler’s shoulders teasingly.

“’S... not what you think.” VI exhaled.

“I would hope not. Right now, you look like you’re about to make me an accomplice in some sort of terrible mob boss crime.” Karia arched a single brow and let out a short scoff. A breath was huffed out of VI. Not quite a laugh, not quite a sigh. She scrubbed a hand through her mess of short pink hair, leaving it even more dishevelled than before.

“I just... needed a place to think. Somewhere quiet. Talk a little, maybe.” Her eyes darted toward the other woman, “I can pay.”

The courtesan tilted her head, considering. She set her glass of wine on a side table with a soft clink and leaned in, propping her chin on her palm. The teasing edge in her voice faded, replaced by something closer to interest.

“I suppose I should be flattered,” Karia said, her lips quirking. “Of all the corners of Zaun to ‘think’ in, you picked mine. So go on. Who is she?”

VI’s eyes widened slightly. “What?”

“Oh, please, you’ve been in me enough for me to know that smitten look,” Karia said, letting out a light, knowing laugh. A bright flush crept into VI’s face, rising from her neck to her ears as she looked away quickly.

“My, never would I have thought I’d live to see you acting like such a blushing bride.” Karia’s smile deepened. There was a long pause before VI finally spoke, her voice quiet and roughened by nerves. 

“She’s someone my sister brought in. Lives with us now. She’s... sweet. Hah, like sugar. Got this soft way of talking that just draws you. Actually appreciates a good joke or two. She’s brilliant. And Janna, she’s beautiful. I didn’t even know I could like someone like her. ” Tense at first, VI’s shoulders finally began to melt as she began to flourish her words about the sharpshooter. Karia nodded slowly, not interrupting.

VI swallowed hard. “Last night, we were in the basement. Pow was asleep, we were messing around and… I kissed her. Didn’t really think it through. It just... felt right.”

“But?” The escort added as if it were only natural.

VI’s shoulders hunched a little tighter. “But now I can’t stop thinking... what if she didn’t mean it? What if she just kissed me because it was easier than saying no? She lives with us. Maybe she felt like she had to.”

“You think she felt obligated?” Karia raised her brows slightly.

“I don’t know,” VI muttered, staring at the floor. “She’s so kind. Too kind, maybe she didn’t want to hurt me. Maybe she didn’t want to make things awkward. She’s from—” VI lowered her voice, “Somewhere where manners and stuff are real strict, you know? Maybe it was a miscommunication.

“Well, answer me this. Does she strike you as the kind of woman who would lie with her mouth just to avoid tension?” Karia leaned back, arms hanging off VI’s back. The boxer blinked. She thought of Caitlyn’s sharp glares, her cutting wit, the way she could shut down an entire room with a single clipped word.

“No. Not really—”

“Then, allow her to make her own decisions. Don’t just assume for her. Especially if it’s just an excuse to avoid facing your scary, big girl feelings.” The taller woman giggled, pressing her manicured nail into VI’s cheek. Silence stretched out, the words settling in her chest, uncomfortable but grounding.

She spoke again, this time quieter. “I’m just scared it’s too fast. I’ve never done this. Not seriously. I don’t wanna ruin it before it even starts. What if I already did?”

Karia’s expression softened further. She reached across the space with a silken ribbon still tied around her wrist and flicked it gently against VI’s temple.

“Hey!” VI flinched, shooting her a scowl.

“What in Zaun doesn’t move too fast?” Karia said with a shrug. “We know the world we live in, VI. You think it’ll pause and give you time to schedule? If it’s special, don’t let it rot.”

VI didn’t respond right away. She just sat there, the weight in her chest slowly rearranging itself into something she could almost carry. With a light-hearted sigh, Karia patted VI on the back before gracefully rising off the bed.

“I think that’s all. Oh, and the next time you come here for consolation instead of a roll in the sheets, bring a drink, why don’t you? Emotional labour is extra.” She winked, lifting her shoulder at the woman. VI let out a short, genuine laugh for the first time that night.

“Hah, got it.” VI chuckled, standing up and sauntering over to the escort, “Though, if this works out, I probably won’t be seeing you for a while. So, for all you’ve done for me…” VI leaned in and pecked Karia on the cheek softly. Playfully, the taller woman rolled her eyes, graciously accepting the coins of gold exchanged in their hands.

“You never know, depending on the type of woman, she may be interested in a little ‘couples outing’ round these parts.” Tauntingly, the courtesan chuckled as VI shook her head. Finally, the boxer made her leave as Karia wiggled her fingers in an elegant goodbye.

—SIDE : SILVER—

In the marble-and-brass cradle of Piltover’s progress, where invention hummed and the promise of enlightenment hung thick in the air, Jayce stood restless in the centre of his lab. The room buzzed with potential energy, arcane cores blinking faintly on every surface, half-assembled Hextech constructs strewn across tables like puzzle pieces yearning for order. Yet his mind, once sharp and focused, wandered far from circuits and blueprints.

He had stopped pretending to work an hour ago. His gauntleted hands now pressed flat against the edge of a steel workbench, muscles taut, knuckles pale with tension. The name Caitlyn had etched itself across every thought since she vanished into the Undercity weeks ago, chasing something - or someone – with that familiar stubborn spark in her eyes. The same spark that had made her exceptional… and reckless.

Footsteps echoed behind him; soft and unfaltering. Mel, radiant in her muted gold and indigo robes, stood just inside the threshold. The evening sun streamed in behind her, catching in her dark curls and casting long shadows across the polished lab floor. She was elegance sculpted in motion, a diplomat of grace and strategy, but even she could not ignore the worry bleeding from Jayce’s posture.

“She’s capable, Jayce,” Mel said, voice calm but firm. “Caitlyn can take care of herself.”

“I know,” Jayce muttered, finally turning to face her. His brows were drawn together, his voice low and fraying at the edges. “She’s trained, the best shot in Piltover. A pure heart and way better judgment than mine. But still…”

“You’re afraid,” Mel finished, arms folding gently across her chest. “You’ve every right to feel so. The Undercity is in chaos right now. Silco’s death left a power vacuum, and the people down there are desperate.”

Jayce exhaled through his nose, stepping away from the bench. He paced like a caged animal, boots clicking against the tile. “That’s exactly what worries me. There are still factions fighting for scraps of Silco’s empire. People are willing to kill for half a whisper of power. And she is out there, without backup. Without anyone to even tell us if she’s alive.”

Mel’s expression remained unreadable, but something in her gaze softened.

“Even more reason to trust her judgment,” she said quietly. “She chose to go. You can’t protect everyone from themselves, Jayce. Least of all Caitlyn.”

Jayce ran a hand through his hair, jaw clenched. “I don’t want to control her. I just… I wish I knew she was okay. Especially with ‘Six’ still on the loose.”

Mel raised an eyebrow at the mention of the elusive criminal. “The fugitive who was to be traded in favour of independence, yes?”

Jayce nodded, grim. “She’s dangerous. No one knows what she looks like. No one’s willing to trade her in. And, worst of all, Caitlyn could be in her path.”

There was a pause. The whir of a Hextech capacitor on a nearby table provided the only sound for a moment. Mel stepped further into the room, eyes thoughtful.

“I still believe it’s best to trust her, but… There may be a way to ease your worries,” she proposed, slowly. Jayce turned sharply toward her, eyes wide and begging.

 “What kind of way?”

—SIDE : INDGO—

Caitlyn was standing alert on the corner road, clipboard in hand and a posture that was all too formal as usual. 

VI, who hadn’t yet caught her attention, stood behind her; weight shifting from one boot to the other, her fingers opening and closing into a fist at her side. She could do this. She was VI for Janna’s sake. There’s no way she’d be afraid of a little heart-to-heart. This was easy.

Yet, standing with Caitlyn just a few feet away, the words felt big again. Heavy in her throat.

“Hey, sug— erm, Caitlyn,” VI spoke, finally, breaking the barrier between them, “Mind if we uh… have a chat?”

The young Kiramman’s eyes flicked up as her shoulders jolted. Without hesitation, she twisted to face the brawler. “Oh, hello VI. Um, sure! I was just reviewing the perimeter for the south block. Perhaps we could—”

“I ain’t talking about patrol,” VI cut in, voice softer than usual, a soft chuckle sprinkling in her words. She stepped closer, until she was just inside the taller woman’s personal space – her eyes searching for some form of permission. A sharp breath from Caitlyn; her fingers began tapping erratically on her clipboard, shattering her illusion of composure. 

“Ah, a game plan, then! For the enforcers, I was actually thinking—” The sharpshooter began.

“Cait,” VI said, even gentler.

Caitlyn’s gaze fixed to meet VI’s; lips parted as begging her tongue to keep offering more excuses. When she realised she had been metaphorically backed into a corner, her eyes fell back to the clipboard in her arms. Maybe the answers would appear if she looked super hard. But of course, they wouldn’t. A despondent finger dragged along the paper whilst she gave a disinclined sigh.

“I know you don’t… Wanna talk about it.”

VI frowned, arms folding as her head cocked. “What makes you say that?”

“Pfft, c’mon VI. Since the kiss, you’ve barely spoken to me. You need space, and that’s fine by me. Or maybe you regret it. That’s, hah, fine too! Fine by me.” Caitlyn huffed; eyes still downcast. Despite trying to sound unbothered, her insecurity bled into that last sentence.

“Oh, uhm… Shit.” VI stood, dumbfounded, her arms still crossed, but now it looked more like she was shielding herself than standing firm.

“Yeah, okay, I can see why you’d think that.” The brawler let out a forced laugh, rubbing the back of her neck with one calloused hand. “I was, uh, panicking. Big time.”

That made Caitlyn look up. The impregnable defence of the clipboard she had been using to shield her from whatever crushing revelation she thought she was in wavered at the rawness in VI’s tone.

“I wasn’t avoiding you because I didn’t like it.” VI continued, “I was avoiding you because… I’m a damn coward. I was scared you felt like you had to. That I made you. And instead of talking to you about it, I just... shut down. Like an idiot.”

Caitlyn stared at her, the clipboard now hanging forgotten at her side. Made her? That’s what VI feared this whole time? Kiramman almost wanted to double over and keel from laughter, the thought was so incredulous to her. That kiss was one of the best – never mind her first – she ever had. And VI was scared that she hadn’t wanted it.

“I should’ve just asked.” Eventually, Caitlyn couldn’t hold back her own laughter, soft giggles lining her words. “To think, Jinx predicted this being the best outcome.”

VI looked genuinely confused. “Predicted this?”

“Now that I remember, Jinx had told me to just talk to you if I was conflicted. I can’t believe a fifteen-year-old is more emotionally mature than me.” Caitlyn cleared her throat, lips tightening in an embarrassed smile.

“Well,” VI muttered, a rueful smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, “guess that makes two of us.” She gave her head a slow shake, as if trying to jostle loose the remnants of her own anxieties.

Caitlyn tilted her head, expression dry with just a hint of theatrical offence. “Though I do think part of the blame rests with her. Dropping so casually that you’ve had numerous intimate partners… I’ll admit, it was a touch intimidating.”

That made VI freeze mid-motion. Her brows knit together, confusion flickering behind her eyes like a misfiring spark.

“She— Wait. Who the hell told her that!?” Her mouth dropped open in horror before slowly closing again, as if even her body had no idea how to proceed. The brawler's face contorted. Caitlyn tried, and failed, to stifle a small laugh behind her hand, her lips twitching.

“I’m gonna set that damn brothel on fire.” VI groaned into her palm.

“You won’t,” Caitlyn said softly, amusement dancing in her voice. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”

“Look, okay, yeah, I’ve been around. Fight, drink, hook up, you move on. ‘N it’s embarrassing to admit that it was somewhat routine for me,” VI began, her voice slow and deliberate, “But none of it meant what that kiss with you did. Hell, I didn’t even know I could feel something like that from a kiss.”

Cautiously, Caitlyn stepped forward, her eyes now unafraid to lock onto VI’s. They were close, not touching but within reach. Everything between them felt warm and heavy with feelings that had bubbled beneath the surface. The markswoman lifted her arm out, her hand brushing lightly against VI’s wrist. The simple contact made the boxer still completely, eyes locked on hers.

“I don’t care how many people came before me,” Caitlyn murmured, her voice gentle but unwavering. “I just care that when you kissed me, it meant something.”

“It did,” VI said, without a single hesitation.

They smiled at the same time, nervous and quiet. The kind of smile that comes at the end of a party winding down, or at the sight of the sun peeking over the horizon. Gesturing to follow her, VI slid down a wall and perched upon a worn scattering of stone slabs, leftover ruins from something older, something forgotten. Caitlyn followed, and they sat in quiet for a while, side by side, the hum of the city rising from below like a lullaby.

VI leaned back on her hands, head tilted to the stars that she imagined shone brightly beyond that smoggy ravine that was the undercity. Her breath fogged in the cool night air, but her body was warm.

“You know,” she began, gaze still upward, “I’ve never actually dated anyone.”

Caitlyn turned her head, eyebrows arching in obvious disbelief. “As if!”

“I’m telling ya! Shocking, ain’t it? Big bad Zaunite brawler, couldn’t possibly be single.” VI huffed a short, sheepish laugh.

“I just assumed that you must’ve had a few... experiences,” Caitlyn said, shrugging one shoulder.

“Hookups? Sure,” VI said honestly. “But dating? Like... getting to know someone, clicking with them, caring about ‘em beyond how much they can get you off? Zilch.”

 “I suppose that makes two of us.” That made VI glance over, brows furrowed. Caitlyn chuckled softly.

“Is that so hard to believe?” Kiramman let out a quiet breath.

“Yeah, actually,” VI retorted, sitting up straighter. “You’re smart, passionate, and your body’s heaven on wheels —” Caitlyn swatted VI for that last part, the two cackling like rebellious teenagers, “What’s not to like?”

“Well,” Caitlyn said, folding her arms across her knees, “I guess I’m just too much of an outcast.” Her mind floated back to a time when she had thought that word was a term of endearment. A title to be proud of. A time long gone. VI stared at her, open-mouthed for a moment. Then she scoffed.

“Know what, their loss. Yknow why?” Leaning back up, VI wrapped a confident arm around the sharpshooter’s waist, pulling her closer.

“Cuz now, I get you all to myself!” VI declared in a cadence similar to that of a child bragging about having something no one else did. Caitlyn blinked, then laughed; a full, melodic laugh that caught even her by surprise. She looked down, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear as a flush crept up her cheeks.

“You’re the worst!” She exclaimed in faux annoyance.

“Yeah, but you love it.” VI rebuked.

For a while, they didn’t speak. They just sat there, shoulders brushing, the air between them no longer heavy with uncertainty, but softened with something gentler. Zaun stretched before them like an ocean of metal and light, breathing with a mechanical sigh.

Eventually, Caitlyn leaned over, letting her head come to rest against VI’s shoulder. It was tentative at first, like she wasn’t sure if she’d be welcome. But VI shifted just slightly, angling herself closer, more open. Her hand came to rest on Caitlyn’s thigh, warm and steady. She didn’t squeeze, didn’t fidget. Just rested it there, grounding them both.

Caitlyn turned her face slightly, her temple brushing the fabric of VI’s sleeve. Her eyes searched the faint silhouette of VI’s profile, the curve of her jaw, the slight smile still playing at the edge of her lips.

VI met her gaze. Held it.

And slowly, quietly, they leaned in at the same time. There was no rush, no pressure. Just a soft meeting of lips, a shared breath, a pause in the chaos that defined their lives. The kiss was gentle, hesitant at first, then deepened with the slow certainty of people who had been waiting far too long for this exact moment.

When they parted, barely inches apart, Caitlyn whispered,

“I suppose I do.”

—SIDE : RED—

“Pow, I swear, if you’re cheating…” VI growled, narrowing her eyes across the table as she leaned forward, arms braced on her knees.

“Nu-uh!” Jinx sang, grinning widely as she slapped down another hand. “You just suck!”

“You know,” Sevika muttered around her cigar as she shuffled the deck, her brow arching skeptically, “cards were never your strong suit, VI.” She flicked a glance at Jinx, her half-amused smirk faltering slightly as she watched the chaotic sharpshooter rearrange the cards in her hand with an all-too-confident flourish. “And you two aren’t that good, so I should be winning.”

“Yeah? Well, my win tally says otherwise!” Boastfully, Jinx presents her arm, sporting a glittery – and definitely embellished – tally of her wins.

 “She’s doing that weird finger thing again. The one where she pretends to be counting but isn’t.” VI leaned back, suspicious.

“I’m counting probabilities!” Jinx said with mock sophistication, fanning her cards like a magician about to pull a grenade out of her sleeve. “You wouldn’t get it.”

“I’ve never seen so many terrible hands in one game,” Caitlyn muttered, clearly unimpressed as she laid down a weak pair of sevens and folded with a sigh.

“Sucks to suck!” Jinx crowed, sweeping up another pile of bottlecaps they were using as makeshift chips.

VI slammed her fist lightly on the table. “Alright, that’s it. One more suspicious shuffle and I’m checking your sleeves.”

“Caaaaitie, Vi’s bullying me!” The ex-convict whined in mock fear, snickering as she hid behind the sharpshooter’s arm. Caitlyn, playing along, shot a playfully disapproving look at the brawler.

Before VI could argue further, a sudden knock rang out through the back room. It was sharp. Two quick raps, deliberate and loud enough to cut through the buzz of conversation. All four heads turned toward the door. The air shifted, charged. VI’s eyes narrowed. Who the hell was knocking at this time? She swore if Silco’s goons were bothering her again, she’d squish their skulls once and for all.

“I’ve got it,” VI mumbled, rising from her chair with a quiet scrape. She crossed the room in a few strides, peering through the narrow peephole before cracking the heavy metal door open just enough to glimpse the figure on the other side.

A broad-shouldered man stood beneath the exposed pipework outside, his hood pulled low over his face. The shadow cast across his features gave her pause.

“This is the Last Drop? Uh, right,” the man asked, his voice sounding strained, pretending to be something it blatantly wasn’t.

VI’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t move. “Who wants to know?”

 “Ah, uhm, me?” The man spluttered. She studied him for another heartbeat. Then, cautiously, she stepped aside, keeping one hand on the door as she opened it wider.

“Take that hood off,” she said, voice even, “No masks in here.”

The man looked reluctant. His hand rose slowly to the clasp beneath his chin. He paused, as if bracing himself. Then the hood slipped back, candlelight flickering across his face.

His jaw was squared, dusted with stubble that suggested several nights without sleep, and his mouth seemed to tremble with relief. His hair, thick and dark as ironwood, was swept back in a style more functional than fashionable, though strands clung loose to his forehead from the weight of travel and sweat. His eyes glistened with a gold hue, and he stood like a statue carved from principle and tempered steel. His broad-shouldered frame looked as if it was used to occupying space with quiet authority. The heavy cloak hung damp with city mist, hood pushed back to reveal the familiar cut of his noble features.

The room fell into an immediate hush, sharpening every breath and thickening the air with the weight of uncertainty.

Sevika’s eyes narrowed into a hard slit, her face tensing as recognition dawned like a storm cloud. Her chair creaked as she slowly rose, the worn leather protesting the movement. With deliberate calm, she reached for her half-finished glass of bourbon, fingers curling tightly around the neck of the bottle instead of the handle – just in case.

“Jayce Talis,” she muttered, her voice gravelled and flat, as if tasting something bitter. “Councillor.”

At her words, VI’s stance shifted with sudden precision. She didn’t reach for a weapon outright, but the energy in her limbs coiled tight like a spring. Her shoulders squared, back straightening, fists curling at her sides. She didn’t blink, didn’t breathe. Every muscle seemed to ask the same question: Is this a threat?

Jinx, who had been lounging like a cat moments before, now looked as if she had seen a ghost rise from the floorboards. The playful glint vanished from her eyes, replaced by sharp panic. She moved without thought or hesitation, yanking the pistol from her thigh holster with a fluid motion, the muzzle snapping up to level at the man’s chest with terrifying steadiness.

The stranger froze. His hands shot into the air, palms open.

“W–Wait!” he barked, voice tight with alarm, “I’m not here to fight!”

Caitlyn had already half-risen from her chair, frozen in place as the familiar voice crashed over her like a wave. Her mouth parted, stunned, the sound catching in her throat.

“Jayce?” she breathed.

The hooded man’s eyes widened, disbelief mixing with visible relief. “Caitlyn?”

The pistol in Jinx’s hands didn’t waver. Sevika stepped forward slightly, glass still in hand. VI moved subtly, shifting one foot forward, ready to intervene.

Caitlyn was already moving.

She stood fully, her heart thudding loudly in her chest, her entire body driven by instinct. She moved toward him in a quick, breathless stride, boots echoing faintly on the old wood. Jayce took one step forward in return, his face still tense until they collided.

The hug was immediate, desperate, and crushing.

Caitlyn’s arms flew around his shoulders, fingers gripping the back of his cloak with strength one might think was uncharacteristic of her if they didn’t know her like Jayce did. She buried her face against his shoulder, against the smell of wind and iron and home.

Jayce’s arms wrapped around her just as tightly, one hand pressing to the small of her back as he held her close, eyes closing like he could finally breathe for the first time in days.

“I thought you were hurt,” he said into her hair, voice trembling. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“I’m okay, I promise. I missed you, too.” Caitlyn whispered back, and the words broke out of her like something she’d been holding too long.

Behind them, the room held still.

Jinx’s face fractured into confusion, her wide pink eyes shifting over to her big sister for approval. VI slowly exhaled through her nose and let her hand fall from the edge of her belt. Her jaw tightened, but not from anger. Her gaze flicked to Sevika, who had taken a long sip from her bottle now, still watching Jayce like a loaded crossbow. VI nodded at Powder, and, with that, the teenager’s arms lowered fractionally, her pistol dropping a few inches, though her eyes remained locked on the stranger.

“Great,” Sevika muttered, low enough for only VI to hear. “Piltover’s golden boy in the bar.”

Jinx finally holstered her pistol, though she made a show of dragging the safety on with a dramatic click. She leaned casually over to the table, nudging Caitlyn’s abandoned hand of cards closer to herself.

“You two close?” VI was watching Caitlyn now. In her eyes, the weight of trust burned strongly. She was trusting Caitlyn not to put them in danger. She knew she could.

“Yes, he’s a good friend of mine. Basically, my brother,” Without a single beat missed, the young Kiramman, took VI’s hands in her own, pressing them close. Her eyes were soft, her smile taut with happiness. VI couldn’t deny that face. With that, the brawler let out a slow breath and stepped back toward the table.

“Well,” VI said, voice low but steady, “someone get him a chair.”

Chapter Text

—SIDE : INDIGO—

Jayce sat down with a hesitant exhale, the wooden chair beneath him creaking under his broad frame. The table still bore the scattered remnants of the interrupted card game – bent bottle caps, the tattered deck shuffled one too many times, and Jinx’s half-sipped bottle of pink, vague juice wobbling slightly as everyone retook their seats.

“What happened, Jayce?” Caitlyn took her seat again across from him, her posture composed, arms folding across her chest. The reunion had passed, but the warmth between them lingered for a moment longer before Jayce’s expression grew serious again.

“I’m here because your mother’s worried,” he said, his voice carrying a genuine weight. “You’ve been gone too long. The Council’s tense. Piltovans are asking questions. She’s... not sleeping much.”

“She isn’t worried,” Caitlyn snipped his words with a swiftness, her tone clipped. “She’s concerned about the optics. A Kiramman daughter choosing to live in Zaun? That doesn’t align well with the image she’s curated.”

“That… doesn’t mean she isn’t scared. Things are getting worse. Patrols have doubled. And your mother’s pushing for restricted travel between districts.” Jayce gave her a look. Not scolding, not defensive. Just tired.

Sevika scoffed, a slow drag of her cigar seething through clenched teeth. Smoke curled past the deep scar on her face like a whisper of contempt. She exhaled through her nose, eyes fixed on Jayce with a look that could have cut glass. She muttered, voice gravelled, “Gilded bars, polished lock. Still a damn cage at the end of the day.”

VI clicked her tongue, arms folded across her chest. She didn’t laugh. Her gaze was trained on Jayce now, a flicker of something harder behind her eyes. Jayce’s attention, however, had narrowed. He glanced at the others but focused on Caitlyn, as if she were the only one in the room who could still be reasoned with. His voice was quiet, but weighted.

“Look… I know you’re trying to help. But Zaun is… dangerous.”

That word hung there like poison in the air.

Dangerous.

VI’s posture shifted immediately. Not dramatically, just a lean forward, a flex of her shoulders, arms now braced against the table as if the weight of what he’d said required something to hold on to. Her tone, when it came, was low and edged in metal.

“You got a damn nerve,” she sneered. “Mind elaborating on that?”

Jayce opened his mouth, but Sevika was already speaking, her tone dripping acid.

“He means we’re all just scum. Thoughtless savages with no hospitality, dontcha’?”

VI looked over at Jinx, just for a moment, hostile energy brimming in the young girl’s eyes. But it wasn’t just that; something older, sadder and deeply bruised seeped into the crannies of her face. VI saw the trembling nights again, the sobbing, the nights when even Jinx’s chaos could not drown out the fear of being locked away again, treated like a monster.

She turned back to Jayce, jaw clenched.

“We’ve got our shit,” she said, not loudly, but with the kind of finality that settled in the bones. “But Topside? You’ve got monsters in fine suits and clean boots. You shove your problems under polished floors and pretend they aren’t yours. Don’t come down here and act like this place is some disease.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Jayce lifted a hand, palm facing out, as if physically trying to slow the rising tide of tension in the room. His brow furrowed, eyes darting from the two women, skipping over the teenager entirely, and finally to Caitlyn. His voice was softer now, more controlled, though edged with desperation. The silence that followed barely had time to settle before Caitlyn cut through it.

“Is Viktor dangerous?” she asked, her voice like the crack of a whip, unmistakably clear. Jayce froze, caught mid-breath. His mouth opened slightly, but no words came at first. When he finally found his voice, it was quieter than before, more uncertain.

“No,” he said quickly. “No, I’m not saying that. Of course not. Viktor’s the reason I know how bad things can get down here. He’s proof of that.”

As the words left his mouth, Caitlyn’s chair scraped violently against the floor, the sound sharp as a gunshot. She stood abruptly, the motion filled with a storm of restrained emotion. Her face, usually composed with the cool discipline of a trained officer, had fractured. Her cheeks were flushed, her jaw was tight, and her eyes shimmered with outrage.

“And whose fault is that, Jayce?” the markswoman snapped, her voice shaking with passion. “Even you, you’ve let this city rot under your feet in favour of empty promises back topside! So how dare you condemn them now?”

Jayce’s face crumpled with something between regret and disbelief. He stood as well, slower than her, but just as firm. Their eyes locked across the table, and the fire between them flared.

“Caitlyn, please,” he said, his voice rough. “You’re a good person. One of the best I know. But none of that matters if you’re dead. You can’t help anyone if you’re six feet under in a Zaun gutter.”

Caitlyn flinched slightly, but her glare didn’t waver.

“With Silco gone,” Jayce continued, his hands now gripping the back of the chair in front of him, “someone will try to take his place. And it’s not going to be someone reasonable. It’s going to be someone worse.”

He paused, swallowing hard.

“There’s already someone on the Council’s radar,” he said carefully. “A notorious enforcer killer. Been on the run for years. No name. No face. Worked under Silco. Deadly. Untraceable. We call them Six.

VI stilled.

Jinx’s expression flattened.

Sevika raised her brow.

Caitlyn’s posture faltered.

The name landed like a hammer.

Caitlyn’s breath hitched, just slightly. Her gaze darted to VI’s face. Her eyes fell to the scar along VI’s right eye; the deep, jagged mark she’d never asked about. She saw it now. 

VI...V.I...Six...

They said nothing. Not yet.

Jayce, oblivious, pressed on. “Do you know how many enforcers’ lives they’ve taken? Who says you aren’t next?”

“You don’t know if she’s a threat,” Caitlyn said suddenly, her voice calm but resolute.

“What?” Jayce blinked, puzzled. 

“What if she’s just… surviving?” Caitlyn said, stepping forward slightly. “What else do you expect someone to do when they’re hunted?”

Jayce looked stricken, his posture stiff with conflict as if he were being pulled in two directions. His mouth opened, closed, then opened again. The furrow between his brows deepened, and his eyes pleaded with Caitlyn not with superiority, but with something painfully earnest. He took a step closer, lowering his voice like he thought he could still reach her before the moment tipped too far.

"Sprout," he said, voice thick with emotion. "You're missing the bigger picture. You want to fix this? Then you need to be up there. With real influence. Where your voice can actually change things."

Caitlyn stared at him, her expression unreadable for a moment, carved from stone and silence. Then, suddenly, she let out a bark of laughter, sharp and cutting. It had no joy in it, only the bitter edge of betrayal.

"You think change comes from sitting still? By biding time whilst people suffer, praying that, one day, the world will magically change?" The sharpshooter muttered, her voice rising with every syllable.

"Sprout, you’re not safe here." Jayce flinched at the accusation. He raised a hand, his voice cracking slightly as he tried to interrupt. 

"I don’t care!" Her eyes blazed as she took a step forward, closer now, her voice gaining force. The words came like a gunshot, loud and raw, echoing against the rusted pipes and cracked brick of the Last Drop. The room swallowed the sound, the silence that followed deeper than before.

Sevika, leaning against the bar with her bottle lazily resting at her side, now gripped it so tightly her knuckles had gone pale against the glass. Her jaw worked slowly, teeth clamped, watching the confrontation with a guarded stillness. Jinx’s face was unreadable, her eyes locking onto the floor as the possibilities seemed to sprawl out before her. Preemptively, her hands wrapped around one another to stop her from lurching a bullet into this man. 

VI stood quietly, rooted in place. Her arm was slung around Powder’s shoulder, keeping her close. She said nothing. But her gaze never left Caitlyn. It was a heavy, searching stare. One who saw not just the anger but the pain beneath it. The pain of a woman split between two worlds, and trying to carry them both on her shoulders.

Caitlyn finally drew in a sharp breath, steadying herself. Her hands dropped to her sides, palms trembling slightly, but her voice, when it came again, was resolute. Not shouting now. Just firm.

"I won’t abandon these people," she said, quieter but no less fierce. "I care about them. I see them. And they deserve more than what they’ve been given."

She took one more breath, her eyes locked on Jayce. "You can either stand with me," she said, each word deliberate, "or against us."

Jayce stood still for a long moment, as if rooted to the floor by the sheer weight of everything that had just been said. The sharpness in Caitlyn’s voice, the conviction in her stance, and the quiet judgment from every corner of the room—all of it pressed into him like gravity. His shoulders sagged slightly, and he looked down, brow furrowed, jaw tight.

Then he lifted his gaze, and the fight in his expression had softened. What remained was something more vulnerable. Something real.

"You’re right," he said quietly, voice gravelled with remorse. "I’m sorry."

Caitlyn blinked, not expecting the words so soon or so simply.

"I just..." Jayce continued, his hands spreading helplessly in front of him, "I’m sorry. I just want what’s best for you.”

Caitlyn looked at him, the edge in her stance loosening.

"The best for me," she said softly, "is whatever’s best for them."

She gestured toward the others. VI, still silent and watchful. Sevika, leaning back again but still attentive. And Jinx, jittery and half-turned away, was tracing a rhythm on the scarred wooden table with two fingers, the tempo increasing with every second that passed.

“Hah, you’re really all grown up,” he said finally, his voice low and deliberate, but no longer weighted as it had been before. “I trust you, Caitlyn. I want to hear what you think is best.”

Caitlyn didn’t answer immediately. Her lips parted, then closed again, as if the question carried more weight than she had anticipated. She looked at him, and then at the others again. Her gaze settled on VI for a fraction of a second longer, and something unspoken passed between them.

“We protect our people. Not our profit.”

VI watched the two intently. At first, she had worried that the argument was going to escalate. She didn’t necessarily have the best impression of this so-called councillor, but that didn’t mean she wanted Caitlyn to fight someone who was obviously close to her. To burn a bridge, not for VI of all people.

But then, everything settled down. The pot didn't boil over, the steam seeped back behind the cover. Something about it was admirable to the boxer. Thoughtfully, her eyes narrowed as the gears in her head turned. 

“Hey, Sev. Keep an eye on Pow for me, I need to do something.” VI mumbled, standing up before she could see Sevika’s ‘Are you seriously making me the babysitter again?’ look. Though she wasn’t quick enough to evade the blue-haired teenager latching onto her. Not that she wished to. 

“Where are you going?” She mumbled, head buried into the older woman’s bicep. Gingerly, VI’s fingers brushed against her cheek as she pressed their foreheads together.

“I’ll be back, Pow. I’m just gonna go see a friend of yours.”

—SIDE : GREEN—

Far from the Last Drop, deeper into the bones of Zaun, the old clock tower stood like a sentinel over the fractured city. Its once-grand face was rusted and dim, but the tower still ticked, still breathed, its interior a tangle of gears, cables, and scrap fused into living architecture.

Ekko sat on the upper platform, knees drawn to his chest, arms resting loosely over them. His hoverboard was propped against a pipe nearby, scuffed and dented from a recent patrol. He was alone with the wind and the distant pulse of Zaun’s heartbeat.

He heard the footsteps before he saw her.

Slow. Hesitant.

"You never stay away," Ekko said, his voice flat and unwelcoming. The words dropped heavily into the space between them, not quite an accusation, but not far from it either.

VI stepped into the copper light spilling from the open candle above the archway, her boots quiet on the worn metal floor. Her figure was outlined in the glow, posture loose and uncertain. There was no swagger in her walk, no bravado in her stance. Her arms hung at her sides, fingers twitching slightly like they did when she was trying not to fidget. For once, she wasn’t pretending to be strong. She wasn’t wearing the armour of the fearless brawler. She was just... here.

“Just wanted to talk,” she said softly, the words almost fragile as they left her lips.

The firelight leader turned from his post, the creak of metal under his boots serving as the only sound he’d make, just for a moment. He faced her, his gaze sharp but no longer angry in the way it once was. There was distance in his eyes, not cold, but guarded. His voice, when he spoke again, was edged with weary resignation.

“Not like I can stop you.”

VI swallowed, her throat tightening around the weight of everything she had been holding in. The silence settled thick around them, pressing against her chest like a hand she could not push away.

“You’re still mad,” The boxer uttered, her voice barely louder than a breath. Ekko couldn’t tell if she was trying to lighten the mood or was just hopelessly bad at starting conversations. Though at this point, both at the same time seemed like an equally viable conclusion. His jaw tensed – looking away for a second as his hands flexed at his sides like he was trying to shake off the memory.

"How perceptive," he said, dry and bitter. "I’m working with you because the situation is dire. Did you think everything would go back to normal ‘cause of it? It doesn’t work like that.”

The words stung, more because of the truth in them rather than their delivery. VI peered down at her boots, scuffed and streaked with Zaun’s ever-present grime. Her lips parted as if to speak, but she said nothing. The longer she stayed quiet, the more Ekko could feel the heat rising in his chest.

"You could have come with us, you know?" he hissed suddenly, his voice rising. "We needed you. I needed you." His voice cracked slightly at the end, and VI’s head lifted. Her hands loosened from their usual fists, quivering. She took in a slow, uneven breath before speaking.

"I know," she said, the words breaking on her tongue. "I know, Ekko. But I couldn’t."

"Why!" he demanded, stepping closer. VI opened her mouth again, but the words caught in her throat. She shook her head once, then again. Her breath came short and shallow, her body suddenly still as if she were standing on the edge of something she was not sure she could cross. When her voice finally came, it was smaller than Ekko had ever heard it.

"Because I was scared."

That answer hit the air like a crack in glass.

Ekko blinked. The anger on his face faltered, replaced by something closer to confusion or disbelief.

"I was scared," VI repeated, more quietly now, the admission like a stone sinking into her chest. She wrapped her arms around herself, not in defence, but as though trying to hold the pieces of herself together. "After everything. It’s almost ironic, you know. Powder thinks she killed them. Thinks Vander, Mylo, Claggor... died because of her.”

VI looked up at him, her eyes red-rimmed, shimmering with unshed tears.

"But it was me," she whispered. "I took them on that trip. I made the calls. I told Powder to hide those crystals. She did what I asked because she trusted me.

And I couldn’t protect any of them."

She stepped closer, the movement slow, as if the weight of the truth she was finally voicing was dragging her down.

"They all looked up to me. And because of that, they’re gone."

Ekko stood frozen, watching her with a mixture of pain and disbelief. His fingers twitched near the edge of his jacket, but he didn’t speak.

"I didn’t want to be responsible for anyone ever again," VI said. "I couldn’t do it. I know it was selfish, but the idea of losing the last bit of family I had... it was too much. I couldn’t breathe whenever I thought about it. I told myself staying away was keeping everyone safe."

She paused, taking a shaky breath. "But I see now that wasn’t it at all. I was just running."

The silence that followed was long and full. Not empty. Just thick with things too big to name. Ekko’s face softened, the tension in his jaw easing as he stepped forward. He didn’t reach for her. Not yet. But the distance between them had shrunk.

“After that day, I was so scared. I thought you were dead," The firelight leader said slowly, voice low and measured, "When I finally found you, I was still scared.”

Scared of her, not for her. He paused, swallowing hard.

"That fear clung onto me so tightly. It had no choice but to turn into hatred.” Ekko finally stepped closer. Close enough that he could see every line in her face, every scar, every truth she had carried alone for far too long.

“I don’t know if it’s ever going to disappear. Not entirely.” Ekko mumbled, looking down.

“It probably won’t.” VI choked out, half a laugh, half a sigh. “And that’s fine. I just… Wanted you to know, I have your back. Maybe it’s too little, too late. But, whatever you need, Ekko…”

The boy’s mouth twitched, like he wanted to speak, but the words kept tangling in his throat. When he finally looked up at her again, there was something wounded behind his dark eyes, but it had softened from rage into uncertainty.

"I just... I want my big sister back."

That sentence landed heavier than anything else he had said. VI’s lips parted, her heart stuttering at the sound of it.

"The girl who used to hose me down after I came back covered in sludge from a dumpster dive," Ekko continued, a tired smile flickering and vanishing before it could stay. "The one who’d chase me down when I picked fights too big for my size and then patch me up.”

VI’s eyes glistened again, and she looked away, blinking quickly.

"I don’t even know if she’s still in there," Ekko whispered. "I want to believe she is. But I’m still scared."

"That’s okay," VI whispered. "You don’t have to figure it out now. Or tomorrow. Or ever, if it comes to that."

She took a slow breath and steadied herself, her voice more sure the second time.

"Maybe we never get back there. Maybe too much has happened. But I’m still gonna be around. For as long as you’ll let me."

The tower’s wind sighed through the rafters again, brushing past them like a memory. He looked away, staring out over the city beyond the metal frame of the window. Pipes glowed in the distance, blue and green like veins beneath skin. Zaun never really slept.

They stood like that for a while. Not close, but not far either. The space between them was filled with history, with guilt, and with something uncertain. Something slowly, painfully trying to grow again.

VI didn’t move. She didn’t press. Ekko didn’t reach out. He didn’t push her away either.

Eventually, the silence stretched long enough to feel like a pause rather than an ending. And even that, somehow, felt like hope. 

—SIDE : INDIGO—

Jinx, ever restless, had leapt over the bar with a theatrical swing of her legs, boots skidding across the counter before she landed behind it like a chaotic bartender in some broken-down saloon. She tossed a few empty glasses into the sink with a clatter, spinning around and leaning on her elbows with a grin that didn't quite reach her eyes.

Caitlyn, seated once more beside VI, glanced up with a raised brow and a faint smile.

"Think you could manage a cup of tea back there?" she asked, voice light, teasing.

Jinx tilted her head dramatically. "Tea? Like, uh, with the beans and hot water?”

Caitlyn looked contemplative before nodding, crossing one leg over the other. "You know what, sure.”

Jinx clicked her tongue and turned toward the cabinet. After a brief, noisy search, she triumphantly held up a dented tin, then dropped it onto the counter with a thunk. She grabbed an old kettle, filled it from a grimy spout, and set it over the sputtering heat plate behind the bar.

Jayce, positioned awkwardly at the far end of the room as if unsure whether he truly belonged there, finally cleared his throat to break the tense silence. “Could I—”

“Nope,” Jinx interrupted sharply, her tone flat and unwelcoming. She didn’t even bother to turn around.

Jayce blinked, startled by how quickly she had cut him off. “I didn’t even finish the sentence.”

“Good,” came her curt response. 

Leaning forward slightly, the councillor furrowed his brow, trying to keep his tone measured. “Not even a glass of water?”

At that, Jinx whipped around to face him, planting her hands firmly on her hips. Her eyes glinted with defiance as she answered, “You can have a nice, refreshing cup of dehydration.”

Caitlyn, who had been watching the exchange with a growing sense of unease, gave Jinx a pleading look; one that silently asked her to ease up. Jinx’s expression, however, remained completely unmoved. With exaggerated theatrics, she poured a handful of dried beans into a tin cup and began shaking them, the rattling sound filling the room like a taunt.

Caitlyn let out a quiet sigh, then turned to Jayce with a look of weary empathy. “She’s not being difficult just for the sake of it,” she said, her voice low and careful. “She’s just uneasy…”

Jayce glanced between the two of them. His eyes lingered on the teenager a moment longer before he leaned back in his chair. Despite his efforts to appear indifferent, the slight slump in his shoulders betrayed how deeply the rejection had landed. “I’m not here to hurt anyone,” he said quietly.

“I believe you,” Caitlyn replied, her voice softening. “I truly do. But Jinx doesn’t. And to be honest, she has every reason in the world to keep her guard up.”

Her voice had lost its playfulness now, becoming something softer and more careful. She leaned her arms on the table and glanced over toward the bar, where Jinx had her back to them again, now fussing with Caitlyn’s tea like it was a science experiment.

“Everyone here has been through hell, Jayce,” Caitlyn continued, quieter now. “Especially her. They see you and they see years of raids, arrests, broken promises. No amount of kindness erases that overnight.”

Jayce’s fingers tapped once against the table’s edge, rushing out a shaky exhale. “I know, I know…”

A beat passed.

Then Jinx returned, slamming down a chipped mug in front of Caitlyn with unnecessary flair. Steam rose from the cracked ceramic in curling wisps. 

“Hot bean soup, with lots of sugar! I didn’t use the milk cuz – uh – Vi says we need it for the customers.” Gleefully declared the ex-convict.

“Thank you.” The young Kiramman lifted the mug with a gracious nod. Jinx crossed her arms and leaned onto the counter as her lips spread into a proud grin. Observing her seemingly more upbeat mood, Jayce opened his mouth again, hopeful. As if she had a sixth sense for it, the girl’s head snapped in his direction, her eyes narrowing and lip curling in an unfriendly snarl. 

Nevermind…

In the meantime, Caitlyn quietly sipped her coffee, desperately trying to hide the way her face scrunched up at the bitterness. This was certainly too many beans…

It was then that the door creaked open again.

VI stepped in, her boots heavy against the wooden boards, the dull scrape of metal brushing against her glove as she adjusted the strap across her bicep. Her eyes scanned the room once, clocking everyone’s positions in the space. Her posture was relaxed, but her gaze was alert.

“Hey, gang,” VI greeted, the words sounding clumsy the moment they left her mouth. She winced internally. That had not come out the way she meant. Of all things to say. 

Jinx lit up at the sound of her voice. In a blink, she was across the room, arms wrapped tightly around VI's waist, nearly knocking her off balance.  “You're late,” she muttered, burying her face against VI’s chest for a second before pulling back to study her face.

“Well, now, I didn’t know I was being timed.” The elder sister gave her a crooked smile and ruffled her hair. 

“Of course you were! Uhm, but you were with Ekko, so I guess it’s forgiven.” Jinx stepped back, but stayed close, the tension that had clung to her earlier now softened around the edges.

Caitlyn offered VI a warm, familiar smile, patting the empty spot on the bench beside her. Without hesitation, VI dropped into the seat with a comfortable thud, shoulders relaxing the moment she settled in. She leaned in close, openly affectionate, brushing her nose against Caitlyn’s cheek with the kind of casual intimacy that came from years of hard-won trust. Caitlyn didn’t pull away. She smiled softly, letting the moment pass between them like a shared secret.

Across the room, Jayce blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the open display. He shifted in place, clearly unsure whether to acknowledge it or not. After a pause, he cleared his throat and forced a light tone.

“Ah, erm, I was just wondering if there’s anywhere I could get some water around here?”

VI tilted her head, glancing toward the old bar counter behind them and pointing with a lazy flick of her wrist. “Should be over there. Might be dusty, but it works.”

Before Jayce could respond, Caitlyn interjected with dry amusement. “He tried already. Was promptly denied by our new self-appointed barkeeper.” She gave a slight nod in Jinx’s direction. “Though, to be fair, she did offer him a cup of dehydration. So that was generous.”

VI turned her gaze toward Jinx, eyebrows raised in unimpressed disbelief. Jinx, catching the look, groaned dramatically and slumped under the table like a puppet with its strings cut. She gradually disappeared from under the wooden legs as she muttered a small, “What…”

“Classic,” VI muttered with a chuckle, watching the girl scuttle away. Then her attention returned to Jayce, the mirth fading into something more grounded. “You good, though?”

“I’ve been worse,” he admitted, though his voice had a thoughtful weight to it now. He paused, casting a glance between Caitlyn and VI before continuing, more deliberately this time. “But now that you’re both here, I think we can finally have the real conversation.”

VI leaned back, crossing her arms loosely over her chest. There was a flicker of curiosity in her eyes. “Alright. Go on.”

Jayce straightened his posture, his voice clear and steady. “I want you both to come to Piltover. Not just to visit. I want you involved.”

The words landed with a quiet heaviness. For a moment, no one spoke.

Then VI let out a sharp, incredulous laugh. “Right. Sure. That’ll go down smooth.”

But Caitlyn didn’t laugh.

She had gone still, her mug halfway to her lips but forgotten. Her eyes had narrowed slightly, not in judgment but in deep thought. Her brows drew together as though she were studying the idea from all sides, testing its weight.

VI noticed. Her gut tightened.

“Wait,” Caitlyn said quietly, her voice careful. “It’s not completely out of the question.”

VI turned toward her, eyes narrowing. “Cait—”

“I know how it sounds,” Caitlyn replied calmly. “But just think for a second.”

Jayce leaned in slightly, sensing the shift. “If there’s any chance to bridge this divide, it has to start somewhere. People trust you down here. Caitlyn still has a voice up there. If we want to rebuild anything that lasts, we need both sides to be part of it. That could be you.”

Caitlyn could see VI’s face morph into a look that was undecided on whether it was fear or pure disbelief. Instinctively, she moved to place her own hand over VI’s, giving her a reassuring squeeze. 

“Listen,” Caitlyn said, standing and motioning her toward the back hallway. “Let’s go talk out back, okay?”

VI followed her out of the main room, down the corridor until the sounds of the bar faded into a muffled hum behind them. Caitlyn turned, her face lit by the low amber bulb above the door, eyes locked with VI’s.

“The Council doesn’t have your name. No confirmed photo. No traceable record. You’ve been a ghost to them,” Caitlyn said quietly, her voice low enough to keep the words between them. The enforcer’s tone was steady, but her eyes betrayed the weight behind them – calculated, cautious, and full of conviction. But the shorter woman beside her shifted, her muscles coiled with unease. VI ran a hand through her hair, the gesture restless, her jaw tense. 

“Cait,” she murmured, shaking her head slowly, “I’m not just some ex-convict they forgot to log. To them, I’m probably a first-class terrorist. Even without proof, just getting near that place is playing with fire.”

Caitlyn stepped forward slightly, her brows drawing together. “Getting you two in that room, letting them see what I’ve seen... that has to be worth the risk,” she said, her voice growing firmer. “You’ve both shown me so much. Let me help you show them.”

“I’ll protect you, Violet. Both of you. Whatever it takes.” Caitlyn pressed on, her hand brushing VI’s arm with careful resolve.

VI flinched slightly at the use of her full name, the sound like a relic pulled from another life. Her shoulders sagged beneath the weight of memory. A long breath escaped the older sister’s lungs as she turned her gaze to the floor. Her calloused fingers rubbed the back of her neck, a habit born of stress and indecision. Everything in her body resisted the thought of Piltover. It wasn’t just a city. It was a cage. A gilded machine that had chewed her up and spat her out, leaving scars in its wake. Even now, the memory of cold cells and steel restraints lingered in her bones like frostbite.

Before she could summon a reply, a voice cut in from the hall, unmistakable.

“You really thinking about this?”

The gravelled rasp belonged to Sevika. The bruiser stepped into view with the casual menace of someone who never needed to rush. She leaned her broad frame against the rusted doorframe, her arms crossed, the sleeve of her mechanical arm creaking with the motion. Her gaze was sharp, calculating, as it moved between VI and Caitlyn.

VI’s mouth opened, but Sevika held up a hand, halting her with a simple gesture. She didn’t want a debate, not yet. She tilted her chin toward the door, eyes unreadable.

“Walk with me.”

It wasn’t a request.

Without waiting for a reply, Sevika turned and pushed the door open with her shoulder. The hinges groaned in protest, the outside light spilling into the dim room.

The young Kiramman gave VI a questioning look. There was concern in her eyes, veiled but unmistakable. VI met it with a small nod, hesitant but resolute. She rose to her feet and followed, the air behind her tense with everything left unsaid.

—SIDE : BROWN—

Outside, the air was thicker with Zaun’s usual cocktail of steam and metallic dust. Pipes hissed in the distance, and the sky above was a patchwork of vents and exposed infrastructure. Sevika sat down heavily on the cracked stone steps in front of the bar, pulling out a flask and taking a swig before offering it to VI. VI shrugged it off and sat beside her, elbows on her knees, staring down the alley.

They sat side by side on the low, crumbling ledge just outside the doorway, the weight of the conversation left behind still clinging to them like smoke. For a while, neither of them spoke. The only sounds were the faint hum of distant machinery and the occasional gust of wind weaving through the alleyways. Eventually, Sevika broke the silence. 

“Piltover’s not gonna save us.”

The boxer turned to glance at her, expression taut. VI’s jaw was clenched, eyes shadowed with unease. Conflict tugged at the hardened lines of her face, the tension caught somewhere between hope and instinct.

“Maybe if they knew…” she murmured. Her voice was quiet, almost reluctant, as if the words were being pulled from her against her better judgment.

The bruiser didn’t look at her. She kept her eyes fixed on the far end of the alley, where shadows drifted between rusted pipes and flickering signage. Her tone remained steady, but there was a hard edge beneath it.

“No. It’s not that they don’t know we’re suffering. And it’s not even that they don’t care.” The older woman let out a barren chuckle under her breath. “They need us to suffer. If we’re not down here breaking, their little paradise up there starts to fall apart. Their whole system depends on keeping the Undercity bleeding.”

VI leaned back against the wall, her shoulders sagging under the weight of it all. She drew in a slow, uneven breath and let it out just as carefully. Caitlyn’s words still lingered, promising change, reaching for something better. But now Sevika’s voice came like a counterweight, grim and grounded, reminding her of everything she had once learned the hard way.

Hope was a risk. Survival was a certainty.

“I don’t think Caitlyn’s trying to mess you up. Honestly, I think she really believes it could work.” The gambler’s tone shifted slightly, no longer biting but thoughtful in a way VI rarely heard from her. “But being down here a few months doesn’t make her wise to how this place moves. It just makes her optimistic. You’re sharper than that. You’ve lived it.”

The alley fell quiet again. Overhead, a frayed electrical line sparked faintly, casting tiny bursts of light like fireflies into the dark. From somewhere deep within the labyrinth of streets, the distant sound of glass clinking together echoed softly, carried by the wind.

“I’m not here to tell you what to do,” Sevika said at last, her voice quieter now, less certain. She stared at the cracked pavement between her boots, the words thick with a weight she didn’t quite know how to carry. “And I get it, more than you probably think. If you’re tired of the fight, if you’ve had enough of blood and broken bones... I don’t blame you.”

The hardened woman hesitated, as though unsure whether to go on. Her jaw shifted slightly, muscles tight beneath scarred skin. She risked a glance toward VI, but quickly turned her face away, attempting to mask the flicker of guilt that crossed her expression. Her voice dropped lower.

“Just… don’t be stupid.”

There was no heat in the words, no bark or bite. It was as close to concern as Sevika ever let show. A gruff warning laced with something rougher underneath, something nearly tender.

She rose to her feet with a grunt, her metal arm letting out a dull clank as it adjusted to her weight. For a brief moment, she lingered. Then, with a surprisingly gentle motion, she patted VI on the back. It wasn’t affectionate in the usual sense, but it carried familiarity, something hard-earned and quiet. 

Sevika knew damn well what stupidity did to people.

—SIDE : FADED BROWN—

[♫There’s a girl in town, and word’s gone around, she’s just fine♫

The crowd was all but gone, the old record player filling the empty spaces. 

Vander wiped down the counter with a rag that had seen better days. Silco sat nearby, one arm stretched along the back of his chair, half-listening, half-watching the shadows crawl across the walls.

At the centre of it all sat a young Sevika, already marked by sharp edges and a wariness that never truly slept. Her sleeves were rolled up, one hand wrapped around a half-full glass, the other resting loosely on the table. Across from her, Felicia was glowing in a way Sevika hadn’t seen before. She leaned forward, her fingers splayed over her stomach as though protecting something fragile.

“I’m pregnant,” Felicia said softly, with a kind of casual joy. As if she had just declared the weather.

♫So I don't worry my head 'cause I know her heart is tied to mine♫

For a moment, the bar stood still. Even the old phonograph in the corner seemed to hush itself. Vander paused mid-wipe, eyes narrowing just slightly. Silco’s expression didn’t change, but he raised one brow, curious.

Sevika let out a sharp breath through her nose, not quite a laugh. “So, how are you planning to get rid of it?”

The words dropped like a blade between them. Vander and Silco exchanged stunned looks. Felicia’s eyes widened, her body recoiling as if Sevika had struck her.

“That isn’t funny, ‘Vika. I’m keeping it.” She muttered.

♫Our love is a bubblin' fountain♫

Sevika lazily turned to the woman opposing her, eyes glancing over her a few times for any sign of a joke. Unfortunately, she found no such thing. Upon realising this, her chair scraped backwards as she leaned forward, her voice low and hard. 

“You crazy? Bringing a kid into this fucked up place? Don’t be stupid.” Her voice rising in disbelief.

Felicia rose from her seat, too, face flushed with heat. “What’s stupid is letting Piltover scare us into submission!

“This isn’t about submission, Fel!” Sevika barked, her glass slamming onto the table. “You think a crying newborn is gonna help you survive? You’re covering yourself in bait and throwing yourself into the lion's den.”

Felicia took a shaky step forward. “Well, I’m so sorry you don’t know what it’s like to love someone more than yourself!”

♫Our love, that flows into a sea♫

“Don’t even!” Sevika bellowed, now towering over the woman. “You aren’t doing this because you love them. You’re doing it because you’re selfish!”

Their shouting escalated, voices clashing like steel in a forge. Chairs were pushed, and the table jostled. 

Vander swiftly slotted himself in between them, his broad form holding Sevika back, like a wall. Silco positioned himself before Felicia, desperately trying to cover her stomach. Both their words fell on empty ears to either woman. 

Sevika’s chest heaved with fury, her fists clenched at her sides. She stared at Felicia for a long, silent moment. Her voice came quiet now, but still edged with venom.

“Those kids, if they make it out at all, won’t live long enough to see what peace even looks like.”

♫Our love, deeper than any ocean♫

She turned without another word, slow steps to the door as she lit a cigarette with shaking fingers.

In the background, Felicia’s sobs blended into the vinyl track. Sevika didn’t turn back. From that day on. They never saw each other again.

Not until one of their hearts stopped beating, at least.

♫Our love, for eternity♫]

—SIDE : RED—

VI found Powder where she always did when she needed space, tucked away in the far corner of the room, cross-legged on the floor beside a mess of wires, clock parts, and what might have been a toaster once. A small lantern flickered beside her, casting soft light over her pale blue hair and the curious squint she wore while working. Her hands moved with careful precision, coaxing the guts of an old device into something new, something strange.

The elder sister crouched down nearby, resting her forearms on her knees. For a few quiet moments, she just watched her sister work. Powder's brow furrowed as she adjusted a spring. She didn’t look up, but VI could tell she knew she was there.

“Hey,” VI said softly.

Powder’s hands paused, then lowered the tool she was using. She turned toward her with a cautious smile, the kind she wore when she was waiting to see what mood VI was bringing with her.

VI moved quietly, her boots soft against the metal floor as she lowered herself beside the younger girl. The brawler was all muscle and tired strength, her arms resting on her knees, her eyes steady and unreadable for a moment as she watched her sister.

“What do you… think about Piltover?” VI breached softly, her voice like worn leather, cautious but not afraid. The pale-haired tinkerer blinked, her faint smile vanishing – now replaced by that fragile tension that took hold when something unknown slipped into the conversation. Her fingers paused their fidgeting, now curling around the frayed edges of her gloves like she was anchoring herself.

“Piltover?” she repeated, uncertain, the word strange in her mouth, like a name spoken from far away. “Why?”

VI reached out, the warrior’s touch surprisingly gentle, and nudged her shoulder. “We were talking and—”

“By ‘we’, you mean the grown-ups, right?” Powder interjected.

“Haha, yeah, the lame grown-ups.” She affirmed with a half-smile tugging at her lips. “We thought, maybe we could help Zaun by making Piltover face us head-on. Diplomatically, of course.”

Powder looked down again, the quiet girl lost in thought. Her voice, when it came, was hesitant. “Is this… is this because of that weird stranger?”

“Jayce– And, not just him. Caitie thinks it’s a good idea, too.” The elder of the two gave a small shrug. The teenager didn’t answer at first. Her eyes shifted toward the far wall where shadow and light met. The silence pressed in, filled with the sound of old machinery and the weight of fear she couldn’t voice. When she finally spoke, her voice trembled.

“What if we get in trouble? What if they separate us again?” Powder’s pink eyes lifted to meet VI’s, her lip quivering as she spoke. Without a hint of hesitation, VI leaned in, the older sister becoming a shield in flesh and blood. Her voice softened, becoming something fierce in its quietness.

“I’ll be right there, Pow. I won’t let anyone hurt you. Not the Council. Not the guards. Not anyone.”

Powder looked up at her sister, the woman who had been her anchor through every storm. She studied her face, searching for cracks in the promise. But VI held her gaze, steady and unflinching, like a wall built to withstand the worst the world could throw.

“Besides, there’s probably a lot up there you’d love,” VI said after a pause, letting the tension ease. “Real tools. Real tech. Stuff that works the first time. No busted wires. No mould growing out of old circuits.”

“The mould is half the fun, silly.” She giggled quietly. It drew a small, reluctant grin from the girl of sparks and blueprints.

“You would say that.” VI chuckled, too, though the sound was more breath than voice. Powder’s smile wavered again, replaced by something quieter, more vulnerable. She leaned her head against VI’s shoulder, her voice barely audible.

“As long as it’s not Stillwater,” Whispered the smaller, “and you’re with me… Then, I won’t be scared.”

VI wrapped an arm around her, the fighter embracing the fragile heart she had sworn to protect. She brushed a smudge of oil from her sister’s cheek with the back of her knuckles, voice thick with affection.

“It’s not Stillwater,” she murmured. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

The two of them sat like that for a while, the bruised brawler and the clever little mechanic, safe in the small silence they made for themselves.

After a moment, Powder tilted her head and looked up. “Can Ekko come too?”

VI smiled, thinking of the fast-talking, sharp-eyed boy who always had grease on his hands and fire in his voice.

“You should ask him,” she hummed. 

Powder gave a small nod and nestled against her again. It was so warm. She loved it.

—SIDE : GREEN—

Ekko seriously needed to up the security measures around the firelight base. This was the second time one of the sisters had managed to worm their way in.

But it was Powder – or, Jinx – this time. So Ekko supposed he didn’t mind that much. 

She found him in the upper levels of the hideout, perched on the edge of a half-collapsed balcony. He had grown fond of residing there when he needed to think, tucked comfortably in a room full of easels that were thankfully covered by the time she entered. Why? No reason.

“Little man!” the blue-haired mischief-maker sang as she stepped into the glow of flickering lamplight, her hands folded neatly behind her back. She moved with the ease of a shadow slipping through cracks, swaying slightly on her heels like she hadn’t just scaled four stories of twisted steel, corroded ladders, and half-buried ruin. At the sound of her voice, Ekko glanced over his shoulder, surprise flickering across his face before it melted. Despite how surprising she could be, it was never a displeasure.

“Didn’t hear you coming,” he said, though there was no accusation in his voice, only quiet amusement.

“No one ever does,” Powder replied, her grin stretching wide as she crossed the room and dropped into the spare chair beside him with a dramatic thud. She sprawled like a girl who had never known fear, even though every corner of her carried it. 

“Lend a minute?” She hummed.

“Hm… Maybe half of one,” The firelight leader playfully rolled his eyes, mock-annoyed, but the way his hand drifted away from the scattered maps and worn documents said otherwise. 

“How generous,” The ex-con replied with a smirk, leaning back and letting the chair creak beneath her. “Anyway, I was wondering something. Totally hypothetical. What are your thoughts on Piltover?”

That name alone seemed to tilt the room.

“Uh… negative?” Ekko turned toward her fully now, his brow tightening in suspicion. 

“Well, obviously,” she replied, twirling a frayed strand of her hair between two fingers. “But, like… would you ever consider going there? Not to loot, I mean. But as like…” She hesitated. Words were hard, the explanation slipped away from her, and the sentence faded.

In an attempt to reset, Powder swung her legs over the edge of the walkway and leaned back on her hands, a small grumble slipping from her lips. “Okay, so, VI is thinking of going with me, of course, on some sorta peace mission. I mean, that’s right down your alley, right?”

Ekko’s expression darkened. The weight of responsibility settled across his shoulders like an old, familiar cloak. “Jinx… I can’t just leave. The Firelights need me. This place isn’t gonna run itself.”

“Come on. Not forever. You’ve been running this place for how long? You’ve earned a day off.” Powder huffed and leaned forward, giving him that crooked, half-pout, half-tease that she always used when trying to wear down his walls. 

“It’s not a vacation,” Hissed the leader, “These people depend on me. I can’t walk away from everyone on a whim.”

Somewhere in his words was the lingering taste of unspoken resentment. For what, Powder didn’t know. Neither did Ekko. 

She winced, but did not press further. Instead, she dropped her gaze to her scuffed boot, her fingers tracing a worn patch on the leather. 

“Alright,” she murmured. “I get it. Just thought I’d ask.” The girl averted her eyes from his gaze, picking up the end of her braid and twirling it in her fingers. Ekko watched as her shoulders sank, just slightly, her usual fire dimming. Shit, why’d he do that?

“Sorry, just… Who came up with this plan anyway?” He exhaled slowly. 

“Caitie. Or, well, technically her councillor friend.” She shrugged.

“Councillor? From Piltover? Here?” Immediately, Ekko stiffened, his eyes narrowing incredulously.

“Yep,” Powder said, drawing out the word with theatrical disgust. “I hate him, you’d hate him. Buuuut he’s Caitie’s guy, so what can we do?”

“Huh, trouble follows her around like it’s her pet.” Ekko shook his head, his voice a bitter thread beneath his breath. Jinx bumped her elbow into his arm, a spark of affection in the gesture. “She’s not so bad. Kind of stiff. But she’s sweet.” 

He gave her a sidelong look, part sceptical, part amused. “Will you be back?”

“D’aaw, what? Ya gonna miss me or something?” She turned her head, eyes gleaming with mischief again.

Ekko blinked once, then looked away, his voice quieter, more honest than it had been all night. “Of course I’ll miss you.”

The sincerity caught the girl off guard. And, for a moment, their bated breaths were the only sound between them. Both looked anywhere but at each other. Jinx kicked her heels against the beam. Ekko scratched the back of his neck. Then, Jinx stood, stretching her arms overhead. 

“Well. Guess that’s my cue.”

She turned to leave, but before she could take a step, Ekko reached out and grabbed her wrist. She paused, surprised, and looked down at him. He stood and pulled her into a sudden, tight hug. Her body stiffened at first, arms caught mid-motion, eyes wide. But then, slowly, she relaxed into it. Her arms wrapped around him, clinging tighter than she meant to.

“Stay safe,” he murmured against her hair.

Powder smiled, voice low and a little shaky. 

“No promises.”

—SIDE : PURPLE—

A lamp gleamed overhead, spitting faintly as Caitlyn stood behind VI with her sleeves rolled up and a plastic mixing bowl cradled in one arm. Gloves tugged tight around her fingers, she combed bleach through the stubborn streaks of black dye that clung to VI's roots.

"You know," Caitlyn began, teasing, "for someone who acts so nonchalant, this dye was set in very deep."

VI tilted her head slightly, giving the topsider a crooked smirk. "Janna forbid a girl wanna forget what she looks at."

"Forget? Why would you ever want to forget such a beautiful face?" The young Kiramman squeezed VI’s cheeks in her hands, bringing her face to her lips for a peck before releasing her. Then, she proceeded to dab more bleach across a patch near VI’s temple. The bruiser grinned, her eyes squinting from the sting of chemicals, but her mood light. 

Behind them, Jinx was slumped over the couch, her arms hanging lethargically at her sides. Beside her rested a tiny case of some blue coloured dye. Apparently, it could temporarily conceal eye colour, but it smelled putrid. With the disdain Jinx glared at it with, you’d have thought a beetle crawled onto her bed.

VI turned as Caitlyn rinsed the last of the bleach out in the sink, white-blonde strands now gleaming in the soft light. She approached the smaller girl, her tone shifting into something more careful, more coaxing.

"Alright, Powpow," VI said, crouching beside her. "Your turn."

Jinx scowled. "I hate this… It’s slimy."

"I know, but our eyes scream shimmer, and that’ll just draw more attention to us. Look, I’ll go first.” VI consoled, lifting the pipette over her scarred eye and dropping it into her iris. Doing her best to keep her face still despite the sting, she clenched her teeth and hissed through them. 

Demonstratively, she repeated the action for the other before looking at her little sister, expectantly. After a little while more of moping, Powder sighed and sat up. VI cupped her sister’s cheek gently, the bruiser’s tough hands now tender. With a few muttered curses and one very near miss, Jinx finally got the drops in. She blinked furiously, muttering about blurred vision and betrayal, but didn’t protest further.

"See? That wasn’t so bad," VI said softly, brushing her thumb across Jinx’s cheek in a calming gesture. "You look good."

"It’s like before, right?" Jinx blinked a few times, still adjusting to the feel of the contacts. Her voice came out low, almost uncertain. VI met her eyes and gave a quiet nod.

Last, but not least, the boxer turned to the cracked mirror by the wall. Her eyes caught on the scar slicing across her cheekbone, faded but unmissable. She dabbed powder across it, blending the sharp ridge into her skin until it became a whisper of itself. Not gone, but hidden. Just for now.

“Okay… I think we’re ready.”

…

The transport station at the edge of Zaun was surprisingly quiet. The skyline rail hummed above, its blue-glass compartments gleaming like polished steel serpents in the light. Jayce stood near the docking platform, arms crossed as he scanned the area.

A few steps behind, near the rail stairs, stood Sevika. The seasoned fighter looked oddly out of place here, her arms crossed and mouth drawn into something dangerously close to affection. She stepped forward, ruffling VI’s freshly bleached hair with a firm hand, then turned and did the same to Jinx.

"Try not to start a war up there, you two," Sevika muttered, her tone rough around the edges, though the flicker of warmth behind her words betrayed her attempt at sounding indifferent. Her arms remained folded, but her eyes lingered on them longer than usual, just enough to give herself away.

Jinx beamed at the older woman, all teeth and trouble. "Yeah, VI!" she chimed in a playful sing-song, spinning on her heel and tossing a wink over her shoulder.

VI raised a brow, the corner of her mouth tugging into a crooked grin, nudging the blue-haired girl lightly in the ribs. The gesture was met with a delighted giggle as Jinx twirled out of reach and wandered off toward Ekko, bouncing slightly with every step like a spring wound too tight.

As soon as Jinx was out of earshot, Sevika stepped forward. She reached out and caught VI's arm, not with force, but with familiarity. Her voice dropped, low and grounded.

"So, you’re sure about this?"

The bruiser didn’t flinch. She looked the older fighter in the eye, her expression steady, the weight of her choice clear in every line of her face. 

"Yeah," VI said simply. "I am."

Sevika held her gaze for a moment longer, as if measuring the strength behind those words. Finally, she gave a quiet grunt, then nodded once.

"...Alright. I’m rooting for ya," she said, the words restrained but sincere. Her grip loosened, and she stepped back, letting VI go.

Behind the others, Caitlyn Kiramman stood near the edge of the platform, her posture composed but her hands betraying her nerves. One hand gripped the thumb of the other, fingers fidgeting in a quiet, unconscious rhythm. Her eyes drifted up to the skyline car that hovered above the rails, then down again to the platform beneath her boots. She shifted her weight slightly, gaze flicking to the horizon and then back to the crowd in front of her.

Jayce, standing beside her with his arms loosely crossed, watched her for a moment before speaking. His voice was calm but attentive, his brow drawn with subtle concern. "You’re doing that thing again."

Caitlyn blinked, drawn from her thoughts. "What thing?"

"The thing with your hands," he said, nodding toward them gently. "You alright?"

She let out a long, quiet breath and lowered her hands. "It’s just... strange. It’s only been a few months since I left Piltover, but it feels like years. I’m nervous. What if nothing’s different? What if I go back and I’m still that same person who doesn’t belong?"

"That won’t be the case,” Jayce turned slightly toward her, his expression softening. “Because you have me, and them, Sprout. As long as we’re here, you’re always gonna belong.” Gingerly, the councillor pulled her into a side hug, rubbing her arm affectionately. 

Caitlyn looked at him, her uncertainty just ever so slightly shedding from her face as she managed a small smile. Then, slowly, her gaze shifted past his shoulder. She saw VI and Jinx just a few paces away, side by side, talking quietly with Ekko and Sevika.

"Yeah. Yes, you’re right." She nodded, the corners of her mouth lifting.

And that was it. Together, alongside Jayce, the three of them approached the waiting compartment. The doors slid open with a soft hiss, welcoming them into something uncertain but filled with purpose. 

As the compartment began to move, Powder raced to the window – placing two fingers over her head and wiggling them as some sort of goodbye wave to Ekko. With a heartfelt smile, Ekko returned the two-fingered salute. 

VI pressed her hand against the glass, watching the figures grow smaller. Seeing Ekko and Sevika look fondly at them as they slowly disappeared behind the clouds simultaneously made her heart swell and ache. 

This was really it. Their chance at a new start. For everyone.

—SIDE : ROYAL BLUE—

The Kiramman estate was as pristine as ever, its white stone halls polished to a mirror shine and its tall windows washed in soft morning light. In the high drawing room, Cassandra Kiramman sat poised in her high-backed chair, the silk of her robes folded neatly around her, not a crease out of place. Two maids stood on either side, one carefully brushing out the ends of her silver-streaked hair, the other adjusting the embroidered collar of her gown.

She sat in silence, her eyes on the garden beyond the glass. The carefully trimmed hedges, the still fountain, the calm perfection of it all. But there was a restlessness in her fingers, a subtle twitch in the way she clasped them in her lap.

Then the door creaked, and one of the maids stepped forward, her shoes soft against the marble.

“Councillor,” she said carefully, as if her voice was dancing on glass shards, “Your daughter… has returned.”

For a breath, Cassandra froze.

The words seemed to suspend the room. Her spine straightened, lips parted slightly. For just a moment, the composed matriarch was gone, and in her place sat a mother who had waited longer than she would ever admit. Her voice caught in her throat before she cleared it softly. 

“I see,” she said, quieter than usual.

She allowed herself one beat of visible relief. Then drew in a breath, composing herself; spine like iron once again. Her hands smoothed the front of her robe, and she met the maid’s eyes.

“Bring her in,” Cassandra said, her tone level.

The maid hesitated. There was something unreadable in her silence. Then she gave a quick, nervous nod and turned, disappearing into the hallway. Cassandra’s fingers tapped once against the armrest before stilling. She did not rise.

The door opened again. Footsteps approached.

Caitlyn Kiramman entered first, her posture stiff and her chin held high. She was every bit the disciplined marksman now, the peacekeeper moulded in grace and grit. It was a wonderful sight. Like breathing once more.

At least, it would’ve been. Had she not seen the two blots, staining the perfect image that was her daughter’s arrival.

One, a broad-shouldered, brutish-looking woman with pinkish hair. The other, a pale, wiry girl with sharp eyes and restless hands

Cassandra’s face faltered. The noblewoman’s lips parted slightly, her brows tightening in a flicker of disapproval before she could stop herself. The noblewoman inclined her head with a practised grace, but the warmth that should have come with it never arrived. Her eyes flicked briefly to VI, then Jinx, then back to Caitlyn. A silent glint of defiance in her stare.

“Caitlyn,”

“Mother,”

Oh, the apple truly doesn’t fall far from the tree.

Chapter Text

Hii so sorry to bother you guys with another authors note chapter again but I just wanted to inform all the lovely supporters of this fanfiction that we have finally released the first episode of our "Fic Read"/ youtube series thingy (name TBD haha)!

We couldn't have done this without all the wonderful supporters on this piece of work, and I am so grateful for each and every one of you! You have all motivated me so much and I hope I will be able to continue to provide both this fic and this series to you :)

If you are interested in checking it out, here's the link!

https://youtu.be/zBle7uSkiJ8?si=xP9NACbeTTm37fhr

Once again, thank you all so much for just being here! (Totally did not repost because I accidentally messed the video up the first time HAHA)

Chapter Text

—SIDE : INDIGO—

“You certainly are… something, daughter dearest.”

Cassandra Kiramman’s jaw tightened ever so slightly. A cold civility spiked from her daughter’s voice, piercingly. Still, she would not yield the high ground, especially not in front of such… company.

Her eyes returned to the two girls at Caitlyn’s back. VI stood like a shield, her eyes sharp beneath her fringe, hands curling into idle fists at her sides. And beside her, that wild creature. A volatile-looking little girl, appearing like she might bolt (or bite) at any moment.

“I should’ve known that you wouldn’t make your return painless,” Cassandra clasped her hands together, smiling faintly, “You always did love making things difficult.”

“And I should’ve known expecting you to show some respect to your house guests was too much for you to handle.” Caitlyn retorted calmly. The older woman tilted her chin upward, letting the faintest sound of breath pass through her nose.

“Put a pin in it.” Her mother snipped, “How am I supposed to react when you drag some probable criminals into our home?”

VI shifted her stance, the heels of her boots grinding softly against the polished marble as tension spread through her entire frame. Her broad shoulders drew up tight, muscles coiling beneath her jacket like a spring ready to snap. Every part of her screamed to respond, but she held it in – barely. She knew better.

Beside her, the wiry trickster tilted her head with mischief glowing in her bright eyes. Jinx’s smile bloomed wide, stretching with delighted malice. She thrived in bubbling conflict like a weed in cracked stone, basking in the disdain that clung to the room like smoke. The insult only amused her.

Cassandra Kiramman, ever the noblewoman, turned with slow precision, the sweep of her robes catching the light. She carried herself like a queen in court, unaffected and untouchable. With a graceful flick of her fingers, she signalled to the maids, lingering on the edges of the room, silent and pale like phantoms. They flinched forward at her call.

“If you insist on dragging the gutter into my home,” she said coolly, her tone laced with velvet and poison, “then at the very least, show the decency to clean them. And make sure they do not trail filth across the rugs.”

The words struck like a slap in a silent room.

VI’s nostrils flared as a sharp, restrained breath hissed through her teeth.

The maids winced. The matriarch’s finely shaped brows arched high, mouth tightening into a line so thin it seemed carved from frost. Without a second more, the maids hurried the two Zaunites off into the grand halls. As they were rushed, Jinx let out a barking laugh. 

“Wow,” she drawled, voice dancing with mock innocence, “she’s a dickhead.”

Unmoved, the young Kiramman stood her ground, sapphire eyes locked with her mother’s in a glass stare. She took a single step forward, her voice low and steady.

“You asked me to come home,” she said. “So I did. If I stay, so do they.”

Nothing was said in return. Not a breath, not a blink. Her silence settled between them like a wall, a wordless command meant to reassert control. But Caitlyn did not flinch. Finally, she turned, joining VI and Jinx as the maids, wary and unsure, began leading them down one of the estate’s massive corridors. 

Jinx skipped ahead, still giggling to herself as though she had just heard the best joke of the year. VI walked close beside Caitlyn, her gaze flickering between the corridor before them and the glare that burned into the back of the maids’ heads from her girlfriend. In a comforting gesture, the markswoman's hand found the brawler’s; squeezing it tightly and refusing to let go.

And Cassandra remained motionless in the centre of the grand hall, her fingers clasped too tightly, her expression as polished as the floor beneath her. Only her eyes betrayed her – troubled, thoughtful, and watching her daughter walk away with two scraps of the Undercity trailing in her wake.

—SIDE : GREEN—

Ekko leaned against the rough stone wall, the warm glow of the campfire casting flickering shadows across his face. His eyes, a piercing blue, were fixed on the flames, the dance of light playing across his furrowed brow as he listened intently to the whispers of his fellow Firelights. Their conversation swirled around him like a gentle breeze, but it was the words of the young girl sitting closest to the fire that had captured his attention.

Lila, one of their younger recruits, with hair the colour of a burnt umber sunset. She spoke with the innocence of someone who hadn't seen the darker side of life, yet her curiosity was insatiable.

"Is… she on our side, now?" she asked, her voice quivering slightly as she poked a stick into the embers.

"Who?" The leader replied, feigning ignorance. He felt the eyes of his comrades on him, but he kept his gaze on the fire. 

"You know… Silco’s top dog? I’ve never actually seen her before…" The newbie mumbled. A low murmur rippled through the group at the mention, and Ekko sighed, pushing himself away from the wall to sit opposite her. 

"You mean VI," he said, the corners of his mouth tilting upwards slightly. "Well, she's...complicated."

They all leaned in closer, their whispers turning into a hushed anticipation. The fire crackled, sending a shower of sparks into the night sky – air thick with tension and unspoken questions about the infamous figure who pervaded the Firelights for as long as they had existed. Ekko stared, muted, into the flames, his mind racing with memories of their tumultuous encounters. 

"We're...co-existing," he said finally, his voice measured. "Our goals align, that's all that matters."

One of Ekko’s closest members, a stoic Vastaya named Scar, spoke up. "But do you trust her, Ekko?" His eyes bore into Ekko's, searching for any hint of doubt.

The leader’s gaze flickered to the side, his thoughts momentarily drifting to the chaos VI often brought with her. "It's not about trust," he said firmly. "It's about what we stand to gain. And right now, working together is beneficial for everyone."

The group murmured in agreement, but the question hung in the air like the smoky tendrils of the fire. It was clear they weren't fully convinced.

"Is it cuz of that Jinx girl?" Eve piped, her words both cautious yet provoking. "Is that why you gave her a chance?”

"What does Pow— What does she have to do with it?" he snapped, his voice sharper than he had intended. The mention of Jinx was like a splash of cold water on the boy’s face. The Firelights exchanged glances, and Ekko felt his cheeks flush with heat that had nothing to do with the fire. 

“You guys are friends, right?” one of them asked, voice laced with suspicion.

Another leaned in, eyes wide. “What if she’s using Ekko to pull off her sister’s schemes? You know, all that power-hungry stuff?”

“I mean… I did think something was off about her the moment she showed up,” someone else murmured, barely above a whisper.

The air thickened. Ekko felt it pressing in on him; the judgment, the paranoia, the ignorance. His jaw tightened. His hands clenched. Each word they spoke twisted in his gut, until the weight of it all snapped loose.

“The hell are you even talking about?” he growled, stepping forward. “Yes, we’re friends. And no, she’s not some puppet on a string for her sister’s plans.”

His voice rose, sharp and cutting.

“And newsflash, you’d all be a little weird too if you spent five years locked in a damn prison cell!”

Silence crashed over them. The Firelights froze, stunned. A few looked away, ashamed. Others just stared, too stunned to blink. After a moment, Ekko’s shoulders fell; he drew a hand down the bridge of his nose in regret.

"Look," he began, trying to regain his composure, "They’re sisters, yes. But that has nothing to do with it. This isn’t some sort of screwed up favour." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "And, if working with VI is what it takes to keep more people safe, then so be it."

The group fell silent, contemplating his words, with only the sound of a crackling of the fire and the distant hum of the city just beyond their hidden camp filling the emptiness. The air was ripe with the scent of burning wood and the faint metallic tang of their weapons, ready for battle.

As the conversation inevitably died down, the members began to split off, finding their ways to their tents to sleep. Soon, it was just Scar and Ekko, like usual. Routinely, the boy pressed his heel into the edges of the fire to quieten it down, until it was put out entirely. 

Scar studied him for a moment, the firelight reflecting off the scar that split his left eyebrow. "You're defensive about her," he noted, his tone neutral. Ekko swiftly swung his head around, narrowing his eyes, 

“About VI??” Ekko bristled at the accusation, hissing in an incredulous tone.

“No, no. The other one. Jinx? Or, Powder, to you.” The bat chuckled, smiling knowingly at the boy. 

Ekko felt his shoulders relax as he rolled his eyes.

"I’m defensive of all of you. We’re all each other’s got," Ekko sighed, picking up a pebble and tossing it into the flames, watching it sizzle and pop. 

The world outside their camp was a treacherous place, and alliances were often forged out of necessity rather than friendship. They were all outcasts, survivors of a society that had either abandoned them or sought to use them for their own gain.

"We need to watch our backs," Scar warned, his voice a gruff rumble. "But if you vouch for her, Ekko, we'll trust your judgment."

Ekko nodded, his gaze never leaving the fire. 

"Thank you,"

As the last of the embers winked out, he stood, brushing the dirt from his pants. He knew tomorrow would bring new challenges, new decisions that would test the limits of their alliance. But for now, he allowed himself a small smile. They had made it this far. Together, they could conquer anything the world threw at them.

With a quiet resolve, Ekko made his way to his own bedroll, his thoughts swirling like the ashes in the night breeze. As he lay down, the whispers of his comrades' snores lulling him to sleep, he couldn't help but wonder what the future held for them all. 

The darkness enveloped him, offering no answers, but in the quiet of the night, he found a strange comfort in the uncertainty. For now, all he could do was trust in the flickering light of their camaraderie and hope that it was enough to guide them through the tumultuous days ahead.

—SIDE : RED—

“Wonderful! Now, you two are perfection!”

VI was draped in a sharply tailored navy coat with brass buttons that gleamed under the chandelier’s light. The coat hugged her frame like armour, dressed in formality. A high-collared white shirt sat neatly underneath, the fabric crisp and unfamiliar. Her trousers were clean and pressed, tapering into polished boots that clicked quietly when she moved. Her hair was pulled back loosely, revealing more softness in her features than she was used to showing. 

Jinx stood beside her, looking like chaos forced into costume. She wore a dusty pink dress that shimmered faintly when she moved, edged in silver embroidery that curved in looping, decorative patterns. The dress was detached by the shoulders with transparent sleeves, with the hem cut just around the knee. She refused to let the maids unbraid her hair, so they settled on threading tiny metallic beads into the strands. Despite the new look, there was something ultimately very ‘Jinx-like’ about her look. Something that all the gold in the world couldn’t vanquish. 

Once she was done staring at what felt like a stranger, VI turned to the topsider, gingerly brushing her hand over the woman’s shoulder. Caitlyn was standing a few steps back, her expression unreadable. The familiar dark blue of her hair suddenly felt like a shield that fell over her face. VI’s brow arched slightly as she studied her.

“I am sorry,” Caitlyn said, her voice quiet but steady. The apology came almost without thinking, coaxed out by the brief glance VI had given her. The shorter woman shifted slightly, her arms still folded loosely across her chest. The clothes fit her awkwardly, like they had been stitched for someone who didn’t know arms had more uses than just staying by your side. 

“You don’t gotta apologise,” she looked at Caitlyn with steady eyes, the roughness in her voice smoothed by sincerity, “You’re not your mother.”

The young Kiramman’s mouth tightened. Her shoulders drew upward with an invisible weight.

“Still,” she said, her tone clipped by a rush of frustration. “I invited you both here. You should not be treated like that.”

“Trust me, I’ve had worse said to my face by people who have way less silk in their closets.” VI exhaled a breath that almost became a laugh, though there was no real amusement in it. She glanced off to the side, her eyes tracing the delicate gold inlay that wrapped around the mirror’s edge.

“You shouldn’t have to put up with it.” Caitlyn did not smile. If anything, her frown deepened. There was a hopelessness in her words that clung to the inside of her chest like damp air. 

“I know,” VI turned her head and met her eyes, something warmer in her gaze, “But that’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”

“So that they don’t have to deal with this kind of crap forever,” VI whispered, she tilted her chin toward her sister, who stood a few steps away by the mirror, almost still. 

Powder, draped in rich blue fabric, looked like a smudge of wild ink trying to fit into a page of clean parchment. Her fingers rested on her lips as she nibbled at the skin by her cuticles. Her head tilted slightly as she studied her own reflection, her expression unreadable. Carefully, she turned once, slowly, watching the unfamiliar fabric sway and ripple around her like it belonged to someone else. 

Well, it did. But even when it was on her skin, it felt like it wasn’t… hers?

Caitlyn followed her gaze, her eyes softening as she watched the girl in the mirror, also. The dress was elegant, cut in a shape meant to flatter and impress, but on the child, it hung strangely. Like it was trying to smother the sharp edges rather than celebrate them.

“You’re right. You’re right, we’re going to change this,” Caitlyn mumbled, motivation rising in her, albeit quietly. She glanced back toward the door, then offered a faint smile to VI before turning to face them both.

“Come on. Let me show you around.”

…

As the sharpshooter led them around, they came across a grand corridor, lined with ornate frames, one after another. Each housed a carefully preserved painting of Caitlyn Kiramman through the years. From soft-skinned infancy bundled in velvet, to her awkward but dignified school years in tailored navy and polished boots. Candlelight shimmered off the varnished canvas, casting a golden glow over the wide-eyed innocence in each portrait.

"Awww, would you look at this," VI's voice was a playful tease as she stopped abruptly, her eyes glued to a framed photograph. It was a portrait of a young Caitlyn, probably no older than ten, dressed in an adorable lace dress with matching socks, her hair pulled back into a tight bun. The stark contrast between the stern expression on Caitlyn's face and the innocence of her attire was almost comical.

"Those were definitely not my choice," Caitlyn said, a smirk tugging at her lips despite herself as she looked at the picture. She couldn't help but feel a bit self-conscious under VI's playful scrutiny.

"But you have to admit, you were all business even back then," VI said, her voice filled with warmth and amusement. She stepped aside to allow Caitlyn to get a better look at the next picture in line. It was Caitlyn in a similar pose, this time holding a toy rifle, her eyes narrowed as if she were about to take down a formidable enemy.

Caitlyn couldn't help but chuckle. "Seems I’ve always had a flair for justice." She playfully nudged VI with her elbow, hoping to lighten the mood. But as they moved further down the hall, the air grew heavier, and Caitlyn felt a pang of concern for their silent companion. Powder had been acting distant since they arrived at the Kiramman estate; VI and Caitlyn couldn't help but notice.

"Hey, Pow," VI called out, her tone more gentle than before. "You good?"

Powder's eyes snapped to VI's, and for a brief moment, Caitlyn saw a flicker of something in them – pain, perhaps? But it was gone as quickly as it had come. 

"Hm? Oh, yeah, just thinking. Cute baby pictures," she replied, her voice a touch too casual. VI watched her a beat longer than Caitlyn did, but said nothing, electing to chew her lip silently instead.

They continued their tour, passing under chandeliers that threw a warm glow across the polished wooden floors, and past windows that revealed a sprawling garden outside. The grandeur of the estate was undeniable, and Caitlyn found herself feeling a mix of admiration and unease. This wasn't the kind of place she was used to, and yet, she couldn't help but feel like an outsider.

Amid their little tour of the bustling, opulent halls, a young woman strode with purpose, her steps echoing on the polished marble floor. As she approached the grand staircase, VI's gaze fell upon her. Another servant, though her uniform seemed a bit grander than the people who had attended to them prior. Her stature was steadfast as she parted her mouth to address the three.

"Young Kiramman, your mother, Cassandra Kiramman, is expecting you in the drawing room." The maid declared, her voice a soft contrast to the grandeur of their surroundings.

“Alone.” She added.

Caitlyn closed her eyes, drawing in a sharp breath as frustration flared behind her ribcage. Her jaw tightened, teeth pressing together until the hiss of air escaping between them sounded more like a warning than a sigh. She held it there, for just a second, trying to contain the growing storm beneath her polished exterior.

Then she turned, slowly, to face the maid waiting at the top of the grand staircase.

"Of course she does," Caitlyn muttered, her voice low and edged with bitter sarcasm. She ran a hand through her hair, the controlled gesture betraying the fraying thread of her patience. Her gaze flicked briefly to the hallway behind her, then back to the maid.

“Can you—” she paused, biting back whatever sharper words threatened to spill out. Her tone softened, though it still carried the weight of restraint. “Just… take them to their rooms. Please.”

The maid curtsied in obedience, her movements precise and graceful. Insinctively, VI reached for Powder’s hand, squeezing it in an attempt to reassure her. As she leaned closer, she could hear the teenager humming a familiar yet almost forgotten lullaby.

"You alright?" VI asked, her hand gently brushing the woman’s chin.

"Oh, sure. But, purely hypothetically,” Caitlyn's smile grew mischievous. “Are you prepared to jump from a five-story building if the situation calls for it?" 

The two shared a chuckle, their eyes sparkling with amusement as the tension of the moment briefly lifted. But the sound of their laughter was cut short by the maid's presence, a gentle reminder of responsibilities that couldn’t be ignored.

—SIDE : INDIGO—

With steady strides, Caitlyn entered her mother’s study. Opposite sat Cassandra at her desk, a letter in her hands but her gaze fixed sharply on her daughter.

“You brought them here,” the matriarch said coldly, without so much as a greeting. Her voice echoed through the high-ceilinged chamber like a judge handing down a sentence.

Caitlyn didn’t flinch. “Yes,” she replied firmly, stepping forward, boots clicking against the polished marble. “Because I was asked to come home. And they are with me.”

“Use the sense I birthed you with, child.” Cassandra’s gaze narrowed. A beat of silence passed as Caitlyn’s jaw locked, the muscles in her face tightening. She took a breath through her nose, steady but sharp. 

“They are survivors,” she scoffed, her voice low and deliberate. “Survivors of rulers who treated them like vermin. Rulers like you.”

Cassandra’s eyes snapped up to meet her daughter’s, a flicker of fury tugging at the corner of her brow. Her spine stiffened, her hands folded neatly in front of her like a general before a battle.

“And what exactly do you think your little parade accomplishes?” she spat. “Sympathy? Guilt? You think this city owes Zaun something?”

Caitlyn’s restraint cracked.

“Yes!” she snapped, her voice rising like a lash. “We do. We built Piltover on their backs. On their labour. Their pain. We glorified ourselves while they choked on smoke and filth, and then punished them for said suffering!”

Cassandra scoffed, her expression a mask of contempt. “You think you’re doing the right thing. You always have. But you’re naive, Caitlyn. The world is not, and will never be, the utopia you dream of.” 

“That sounds like the excuse of someone too selfish to try.” Caitlyn stepped closer now, something fierce and unshakable burning in her eyes.

For a moment, Cassandra said nothing. Then, she let out a dry, hollow laugh.

“You have no idea what you’re walking into,” she said, the corners of her mouth curled in something between pity and scorn. “Not the smallest inkling.”

“No, mother. You have no idea of the landscape you’ve laid out for us to walk on.” With that, Kiramman turned on her heel, her boots clicking sharply against the marble as she stormed out.

“But nevertheless, I’ll cross it all the same. 

With or without you.”

—SIDE : BLUE—

The door to one of the many guest rooms clicked shut with the gentle weight of a whisper.

Caitlyn's eyes searched the shadows, trying to make sense of the stillness that hung in the air like a thick fog. Her footsteps were silent on the plush carpet as she approached the grand, velvet-draped bed. Jinx, a stark figure against the rich fabric, sat unmoving, her legs swinging rhythmically, the only sign of life in the otherwise lifeless space. Like always, her arms were curled tightly around that familiar, worn bunny rabbit plush. The room smelled faintly of gunpowder, a stark reminder of the chaos she brought with her wherever she went.

"Are you alright?" Caitlyn asked, her voice a soft caress that barely disturbed the silence.

Jinx blinked, her eyes focusing on Caitlyn as though seeing her for the first time. Her face looked pained, scrunched up as her mouth decided whether or not to speak.

"Mad," she murmured, quite bluntly. Though her voice was a mere distant echo of the explosive anger that usually filled her. "But I don't get it.”

The markswoman perched down next to her, the bed dipping slightly under her weight. Gingerly, she reached out, placing her hand on Jinx's shoulder, feeling the tension coiled tight beneath the fabric.

"You don't have to hide it," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "I… can’t begin to imagine how hard it is.”

"It always follows me,” Jinx mumbled, picking at a loose thread on the bedspread, her voice growing softer with each word. "I thought it was gone for good. Then it just…”

"You know, someone once told me that there are no bad feelings.” Caitlyn leaned in closer, her eyes filled with a mix of concern and understanding. Jinx sighed, her body slumping against Caitlyn's side. “Everything is important to feel. And, with VI and me here, you’re safe to do so.”

"I just…" Jinx began to murmur. But she couldn’t find it in herself to finish. Something was rotting in her core. Something that made her want to peel her skin off. Why? Everything was so nice and pretty here. Why couldn’t she just be happy for once?

The two of them sat there, in the quiet embrace of the dimly lit room, as Jinx wrestled with the tempest inside her. The shadows danced on the walls, painted there by the flickering candlelight, casting long fingers across the floor. The silence stretched out between them, a delicate thread that threatened to snap at any moment.

The young Kiramman waited, giving the ex-convict the space she needed to sort through the tangled mess of her feelings. She knew the girl well enough to understand that pushing would only drive her away. Instead, she offered a soft, "You will."

Jinx turned to her then, those haunted eyes searching Caitlyn's face. "Will what?"

"Find out why," Caitlyn said, her voice steady. "And when you do, we’ll be here."

The room remained still, the only sound the distant hum of the city outside the mansion's thick walls. For a moment, it felt like the whole world had stopped turning, holding its breath to see what Jinx would do next. Then, with a suddenness that surprised even Caitlyn, Jinx leaned into her, her forehead pressing against Caitlyn's shoulder.

"Thanks," she mumbled, her voice muffled by the fabric.

Caitlyn wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer. “Never an issue.”

The tension in Jinx's body began to ease, the tightness in her shoulders slowly melting away as Caitlyn held her. She felt the warmth of Caitlyn's embrace and the steady beat of her heart, a soothing rhythm that seemed to sync with her own racing pulse. For a moment, she allowed herself to just be, to let the anger and confusion wash over her without fighting it. It was a strange sensation, feeling so vulnerable yet safe at the same time.

They sat in silence for a while longer, the moonlight that crept in between the curtains sparkling on their backs.

…

Then, Caitlyn pushed open the door to her bedroom, the soft creak of the hinges echoing faintly in the quiet, cavernous house. The curtains had been drawn back, letting in a pale wash of moonlight that spilt across the hardwood floor and up onto the bed, where VI was already sprawled at the foot, boots carelessly discarded and arms folded behind her head like she owned the place.

“Well, hello there,” Caitlyn raised an eyebrow, surprised but certainly not disappointed. VI’s eyes flicked up the moment Caitlyn entered, sheepish and unrepentant all at once. 

“Haha, hey… Funny story. I may have possibly challenged the lady who was bringing us around to a game a rock, paper, scissors in which she’d tell me where your bedroom was if I won.” VI had a mischievous grin as she sat up. “Off note, I never knew you had a diary.”

Caitlyn turned, arms crossed, giving her a long, disbelieving look, though the corners of her mouth betrayed her amusement. "You are absolutely unbelievable."

VI grinned. "In a good way, yes?"

“In the best way.” Caitlyn rolled her eyes as she kicked off her shoes and crawled onto the bed, settling beside VI. Their shoulders brushed as they lay side by side, the comfort of it unspoken but deeply felt. A quiet beat passed before VI looked up at the ornate mold on the ceiling. 

"Dear Janna, this place," Her voice was low with awe. "It’s insane. All this space. And it’s just you and your mom ‘n pops.”

Caitlyn didn’t know exactly how to respond. Her mind drifted back to the conversation she had just had with Jinx. Instead, she reached her hand out, letting it be captured and whisked to VI’s chest. The brawler then turned her head, resting her cheek on her arm to look at Caitlyn more directly. 

"My brothers would’ve lost their damn minds in a place like this. Bah, Mylo would’ve found a way to wreck the damn house within a few seconds of seeing it, though. Claggor would’ve liked the garden. Had a real green thumb, y’know?” VI reminisced with a relaxed face, nuzzling into Caitlyn’s knuckles. 

Ah, brothers. That’s right… Jinx had mentioned them a while ago, before VI and Caitlyn had even met.

"I know you would’ve made it happen for them," Caitlyn said softly, her voice barely more than a breath in the quiet room. She reached down, her fingers lightly brushing along VI’s chin, guiding her gaze upward – an anchor, a quiet reminder that she was here, listening.

VI gave a small shrug, a half-hearted lift of her shoulders, and let out a low hum that hovered somewhere between acknowledgement and deflection. She didn’t meet Caitlyn’s eyes right away. Caitlyn let her hand fall back between them, her expression shifting as her gaze drifted to the far wall, unfocused. 

"Jinx says she’s angry," Caitlyn whispered. "She’s confused about it. She doesn’t know why… but I think I do. I think it makes sense."

VI’s brows drew together slightly, her jaw tightening. She nodded once, slow and deliberate. "Figured as much," she said. "It’s hard not to be. You spend enough time with your back against a wall, you start hating the bricks too."

Caitlyn turned her head toward VI. "Are you angry too?"

"Not at you. Never at you." VI didn’t hesitate. Her answer came quickly, firmly. 

Her words rang with quiet certainty, and Caitlyn felt a knot she hadn’t realised was there begin to ease. Still, the weight hadn’t completely lifted. She sighed, the sound weary and conflicted.

"...I feel like I screwed this up"

VI looked over, eyes softening. "Nah, not at all. She just needs someone to show her the positive.” She nudged Caitlyn’s arm gently. "How ‘bout we take her out tomorrow? Show her something good. Something that doesn’t smell like judgment or politics."

Then VI’s lips curved into a grin. "Hell, you could even take little old me out while you’re at it. On your tab, obviously."

Caitlyn let out a quiet laugh, the sound caught between amusement and relief. "You always know what to say."

"Ah, I do, don’t I?" VI teased, flashing a playful wink.

They inched toward each other at the same time, as if pulled by an invisible thread. Their faces hovered close, breaths mingling. The grandeur of the room, the marble fireplace, the towering bookshelves, the heavy silence of history, all seemed to fade into the background.

Caitlyn lifted her hand to VI’s cheek, her touch feather-light. VI’s fingers found her waist, holding her with surprising gentleness for someone who had spent so long fighting.

Then Caitlyn closed the distance, brushing her lips against VI’s in a kiss that started soft – tentative – but quickly deepened as VI responded, pressing in with a need that felt like it had been waiting forever. Their hands moved instinctively, learning the shape of each other all over again.

VI broke the kiss first, just long enough to catch her breath, then smirked as she shifted her weight and gently pushed Caitlyn back onto the bed, crawling on top of her. She braced herself above Caitlyn with one arm, her other hand slipping behind Caitlyn’s neck, threading into her hair.

Caitlyn arched a brow, half amused, half breathless. "Don’t people usually do this after the date?"

"Excuse my impatience, sugar,” VI grinned, eyes sparkling with heat and mischief. “But I just can’t help myself when faced with such a breathtakingly gorgeous woman.”

Before Caitlyn could respond, VI kissed her again, deeper this time, hungrier, like she’d been waiting a lifetime to do it properly. Caitlyn’s fingers found the back of VI’s shirt and slipped beneath the fabric, tracing the lines of old scars and hard-earned muscle. VI’s hands roamed in turn, skimming over Caitlyn’s hips, her ribs, the curve of her back.

They melted into each other, lips parting and pressing, hands wandering without urgency or hesitation. Every movement was a wordless conversation.

And for tonight, that was more than enough.

—SIDE : ROYAL BLUE—

In the stillness of the Kiramman estate’s private garden, the moon hung low and cold, casting silver light across the manicured hedges and ornate stone benches. The wind rustled softly through the ivy-laced trellises, brushing against the hem of Cassandra’s shawl like an impatient whisper.

She sat rigid on the edge of the bench, spine straight, hands folded tightly in her lap. Her expression, sculpted into a perfect mask of control, betrayed nothing. But Tobias, seated beside her, could feel the stiffness in her shoulders and the way her breath caught every so often, like she was fighting back the urge to speak or scream.

He didn’t speak. He never did when she was like this. Instead, he simply reached over, fingers brushing lightly against hers in a quiet offer of comfort. It wasn’t much, but after decades of knowing her, he had learned that some silences were safer than well-meaning words.

Cassandra did not look at him. But she didn’t pull her hand away either.

The garden lights flickered in their sconces. Somewhere in the distance, a night bird called once, then went quiet.

The calm was broken by the sound of approaching heels – a maid stepped onto the cobblestone path, clearly uneasy about interrupting them.

“Apologies, Madam,” she said with a curtsy, “but your guest has arrived.”

Cassandra inhaled through her nose, steadying herself. “Send her in.”

Moments later, the garden’s wrought iron gate creaked open. The figure that stepped through needed no introduction. She strode in like the ground owed her passage, her silhouette unmistakable against the moonlight – tall, commanding, every inch a warrior in diplomat’s clothes.

Cassandra rose to her feet with calculated grace.

“Ambessa Medarda. Right on time.”

Chapter Text

—SIDE : RED—

The sun had scarcely crested the gilt rooftops of Piltover when the doorbell rang with its genteel chime, a delicate trill that echoed softly through the Kiramman estate.

With it, the scent of freshly brewed coffee, buttered toast, and sizzling cured meats wafted through the air, a rich perfume that set all three of their stomachs growling in synchrony. The contrast between the visitors and their surroundings was almost comical. Gleaming marble floors reflected the grandeur of the high-arched ceilings. Crystal chandeliers sparkled with morning light, and delicate portraits in gilded frames seemed to peer down at the chaos now entering their otherwise pristine world.

A cadre of maids moved like clockwork through the space, each in immaculate uniform, each bearing silver trays laden with what could only be described as a banquet. Their polished precision and quiet grace gave the impression of long-practised choreography.

“Our kitchen has prepared an assortment of the morning’s finest offerings,” the head maid announced; tone professional and proud. “Roasted ham, smoked bacon, fresh poultry eggs cooked to your liking, griddle cakes with maple syrup, and fruit imported from our finest ports.”

VI let out a low whistle, her eyes wide at the sheer volume and artistry of the spread. She leaned toward the table and muttered, with a grin tugging at her lips, “Wow. You people really got someone for everything. Do they chew the food for you, too?”

The remark dropped into the room like a stone into still water. For a moment, silence reigned, awkward and heavy. The playful edge in VI’s voice didn’t quite land. Caitlyn’s smile faltered, barely perceptible, but noticeable enough. Her fingers, resting on her lap, tightened briefly. 

Realising her misstep, VI straightened, suddenly sheepish. “Sorry,” she said quickly, her voice gruffer now, more subdued. “Didn’t mean anything by it. Just messing around.”

Caitlyn forced a laugh, the sound light but thin. “It’s fine,” she replied. “We just have a bit of help, that’s all.”

Finally, the leader of the house and her husband entered the grandiose hall. It was as if, with their presence, the air seemed to chill, just the slightest bit. 

Cassandra took her seat, or well, her throne, at the head of the table as Tobias was seated beside his beloved. Whilst he wasn’t the ever-present portrait of disapproval his wife was, the message in his narrowed gaze was clear enough.

“Good morning,” Cassandra greeted smoothly, her tone civil but clipped. Her eyes swept the table, lingering for a heartbeat too long on VI before shifting to Jinx, then back again. “I see our guests have made themselves comfortable.”

VI gave a lazy grin, wiping her mouth with a napkin in a way that was half respectful, half mocking. “Sure have. You folks sure know how to feed a couple of strays.”

“Strays?” Cassandra repeated with a soft smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “How charmingly self-aware. Yet, you still insist on enmeshing with my daughter.”

Caitlyn’s brows twitched together ever so slightly. She began to speak, but VI cut in first, her voice almost chipper.

“Ah, is that what this is about? Oh, I assure, Lady Kiramman, I intend to take great care of your daughter,” VI then leaned forward, propping her elbows on the table and smiling with teeth, 

“Even when you’re long gone.”

Caitlyn spluttered into her coffee as her eyes swiftly darted between her mother and her girlfriend. It seemed her father was on the same wavelength as her, as his gaze appeared equally split between the two.

“That’s a lifelong commitment if I ever heard one.” Jinx snorted; speaking with a mouthful of syrupy pastries. It seemed she hadn’t caught on to the room’s temperature, yet.

Wait, what did she mean by that!?

Despite it all, Cassandra merely let out a short breath, sipping delicately from her porcelain teacup. “You forget yourself.”

“You’ll forgive me, won’t you?” VI retorted, her voice dripping with faux, over-the-top politeness, leaning back in her chair. Across the table, Tobias cleared his throat – ‘let’s not do this here’. Though the damage had been done, the air eventually cooled. Yet, beneath all the gilded civility, something bristled.

“In what I’m sure is good news for you, Mother, I was actually thinking of taking my friends out today. See the city, and what now.” In an attempt to raise the mood from off the polished floor, the young Kiramman reached for a glass of water, composing herself before addressing the table again with a forced brightness.

“You really do have no care for your reputation, do you?” Cassandra didn’t look up from her breakfast as she spoke, already assuming a disappointed tone. The brawler’s jaw clenched at that, but she said nothing. Caitlyn’s hand slipped under the table and found hers for a second. 

And Cassandra noticed.

“Anyhow, I can’t stop you. I suppose I’d prefer for the two to be out of my home either way.” The woman forced an inscrutable smile upon her lips, but the force with which her teacup hit the oak table seemed to indicate a total malcontent with the entire situation.

—SIDE : INDIGO—

Draping over Piltover in a warm, golden sheen, the morning sun caught on polished brass fixtures and glass-panelled towers that glittered like gemstones. 

Jinx strolled just a few paces ahead, eyes fixated on her feet as one hand was being nibbled at and the other hung loosely at her side. Every now and then, she’d peek up at something odd and mutter to herself, curious but distracted, her mind always churning.

VI and Caitlyn sauntered behind her, moving shoulder to shoulder. Though VI was dressed more simply than the glittering elite of Piltover, she held herself with the same casual authority. Between that and her perpetually resting ‘bitch face’, she managed to ward off most curious looks. Caitlyn, in contrast, was all poise and polish as usual – gracefully composed in her neatly tailored outfit, her raven hair pinned back in a meticulous twist. Yet, uncertainty seemed etched into every corner of her face.

As they strolled past a stall overflowing with blush-pink camellias and ivory hydrangeas, a woman draped in a cascade of emerald silk called out, her voice as polished as her jewellery.

“Lady Caitlyn! Do give your mother my regards, won’t you?”

Caitlyn responded with the practised ease of nobility, her smile precise but measured. “Of course,” she replied, her voice cool and courteous, dipping her head just slightly in acknowledgement.

Moments later, an older gentleman, stooped with age but still wearing an impressive plum-coloured waistcoat, removed his hat with a dramatic flourish. 

“Miss Kiramman. A pleasure, as always.”

A chorus of greetings followed as they moved along the wide avenue: subtle bows, overenthusiastic waves, and one particularly nervous young woman who attempted a curtsy and nearly toppled into a fruit display. The heiress nodded or murmured brief pleasantries to each of them, never faltering in her poise. But as they passed, VI caught the tiniest flicker of something – an almost impalpable tightening of her jaw; eyes cooling just a shade.

VI leaned in with a half-smirk, her voice low. “Well, would you look at that. A real social butterfly, eh?”

“As if. They’re not my friends,” Caitlyn exhaled softly through her nose, not quite a laugh, “They’re just trying to get in my good graces for proximity to my mother.”

“Well, jokes on them. They’re brown-nosing the wrong Kiramman.” VI let out a low chuckle, then leaned in to press a kiss to Caitlyn’s cheek, not even pretending to be subtle. “You’re the only one I’d line up to impress.”

Up ahead, the teenager had veered slightly off-course, distracted by a strange little mechanical bird perched on a fountain. As she was observing, a girl, taller than her but not much older, it seemed, pushed past her in a pearl-trimmed coat and heeled boots, flanked by two near identical lackeys.

“Watch it,” came the voice – high-pitched, lacquered in disdain.

The ex-convict stopped like she'd hit a wall. Jarring, almost, the change in her was immediate: her body stiffened, her jaw tightened, and the slight twitch in her fingers began again. Slowly, her head turned toward the girl, like a hinge being forced open. The casual curiosity in her eyes drained in an instant, swiftly replaced by something colder, leaving her staring blankly.

The opposing girl stood tall, a family crest embroidered on her shoulder like a military lapel. Her expression curled into a sneer as she exaggeratedly smoothed her sleeves, as though the mere brush of Jinx’s coat had left a stain.

“Are you just going to stand there like an idiot, or are you going to apologise? Do you even know who I am!?” She prompted, lips twisted, voice raised enough to draw glances from passersby. Jinx didn’t flinch or even move in the slightest. This appeared to have angered the demanding girl as she proceeded to double down.

“I’m talking to you! You think you can just shove people and walk away?” She demanded.

“Is she even from here? She looks like a mutt!” One of the other girls called out.

“Oh my god, maybe she’s a fissure walker!” Another squealed.

Behind her, VI’s entire posture shifted. She was already starting forward, jaw set, a warning on the tip of her tongue. But Caitlyn's hand shot out and touched her arm lightly. Kiramman’s eyes were already on the unfolding tension as she then stepped forward, her stride calm but firm, heels clicking against the cobblestones with elegant precision. She slipped between Jinx and the girl like a silk ribbon drawn through a knot. She turned her body sideways, shielding Jinx with one subtle movement, though her eyes never left the girl.

“Lady Lavania Devereux, isn’t it?” Caitlyn inserted herself; voice restrained yet slicing, her posture suddenly radiating the full weight of her family name.

The girl faltered. 

“M– Miss Kiramman?! Y-yes…” she stammered, some of her previous fire retreating like a wave limply retreating from shore.

“Does your father know you’re using the family name to belittle strangers in public?” Caitlyn’s gaze sharpened, her tone still level, almost bored. She didn’t raise her voice, but somehow it cut through the ambient noise like a violin string snapping. 

“Because it’d be a shame if he had to find out from me.”

The two girls behind Lavania glanced at each other nervously, then tugged gently at her sleeves, urging her to retreat. Lavania flushed deep crimson, her mouth twitching as though trying to summon a retort, but nothing came.

“That’s what I thought,” Caitlyn continued coldly. “You should leave before you embarrass House Devereux any more than you already have.”

That did it. Lavania turned sharply on her heel, her boots clacking in uneven rhythm as she stormed off, her entourage trailing like startled birds behind her.

Jinx blinked a few times, the haze behind her eyes slowly clearing. She looked at Caitlyn, who had turned and was now gently taking her by the elbow, guiding her back a step or two as if making sure she was still tethered to the moment. Her fingers had stopped twitching.

“For the record,” she muttered, her voice a little rough, reeling back to reality, “she bumped into me.”

“Oh, I know,” Caitlyn replied, almost absently, as she brushed off Jinx’s sleeve, “And I also know you were seconds away from leaving a dent in her skull. Though, I wouldn’t have blamed you.” 

Then, with a small, conspiratorial smile: “Don’t tell VI that.”

Jinx huffed, something between a snort and a grudging laugh. “I really, really wanted to punch her,” she admitted. 

“But… that was pretty cool too, I guess.” The teenager tilted her head again, but this time in thought, not threat. She glanced back toward where the girl had disappeared, a glint of reluctant admiration flashing in her eyes. Caitlyn grinned, carefully tousling the girl’s hair before turning back around to her partner.

“The larger houses do tend to breed slightly pompous offspring. But the little ones just need a bit of pressure before they crack. Like significantly less valuable diamonds.” Caitlyn snarled as she turned back to VI, resting her head on her shoulder.

VI whistled low, her brows lifted. “Damn. Remind me never to cross you.”

Caitlyn gave a casual shrug, lifting her chin slightly. “I’ll make a note,” she said dryly, shooting VI a wink.

Letting out a slow exhale, the kid slid her hands back into her jacket pockets. Her shoulders had loosened, the rigid tension slowly fading from her frame. As they resumed walking, she kicked a pebble ahead of her with a faint clink, then cast a look back, just one more time.

“Alright, but seriously,” she groaned, dragging her boots a little now. “Can we go somewhere else? My legs are about to fall off.”

Caitlyn perked up slightly, already scanning the horizon for something shiny, chaotic, or both.

“I think I have a good idea!”

…

Piltover always seemed to have some sort of festival or party affair going on. And this time, it was the ‘Artisan Festival’ that was in full bloom. 

From the moment they stepped onto the bustling promenade, Jinx’s eyes darted from stall to stall, wide with wonder, her energy buzzing like a live wire. The marketplace was a sensory overload, colours, music, the scent of sweet pastries and sizzling oils, mechanical whirs, and laughter mingled into a symphony of chaos and beauty.

"What is all this stuff?" she muttered, a few paces ahead of Caitlyn and VI, her fingers twitching with the urge to touch everything.

Caitlyn smiled at the back of her head. “Piltover loves to show off whenever there’s even the slightest excuse.”

“No kidding,” VI added, jerking her thumb toward a brass carousel where mechanical lions, griffons, and raptors circled gracefully. “That one over there winked at me. Think she wants me?”

 “Highly unlikely.” Caitlyn gave her a playfully unimpressed look. VI pushed her lips into a fake pout, leaning in as they walked, shoulder brushing against Caitlyn’s. Caitlyn gave her a subtle nudge in return, lips tugging into a smile.

Jinx, meanwhile, had wandered off toward a nearby ice cream vendor. The cart was painted in glossy shades of pink and teal, with a twirling umbrella on top and oversized plastic cones on display. The man behind the counter wore a ridiculous hat shaped like a scoop of strawberry ice cream. As she approached, he lit up.

“Well, hey there, sunshine!” he sang in an exaggeratedly saccharine voice. “Aren’t you just the cutest little thing? Want a big ol’ scoop of sprinkles and smiles today?”

The teenager’s smile faltered. Before she could respond, VI was suddenly at her side, placing a protective hand on Jinx’s shoulder and fixing the man with a tight-lipped smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

The vendor’s exaggerated cheer faltered the moment VI stepped in. The boxer’s shadow fell over the stall with more weight than it should have, her posture relaxed yet unmistakably predatory.

"Try using your grown-up voice," She spoke smoothly, but a growl rumbled beneath her tongue. The stall owner, a thin man with a cone-shaped hat too whimsical for his years, straightened like a string had been yanked in his spine. His smile dropped by half.

"A-Ah. My apologies," he stammered, backing up a step. His tone lost its saccharine glaze, becoming clipped and proper. "Would you… Like to try a sample?"

The teenager looked between the elder two, uncertainty flickering in her wide eyes. Her shoulders had stiffened slightly, a small, invisible brace for the unknown. Caitlyn, standing calmly beside VI, met Jinx’s gaze with quiet steadiness and offered a reassuring nod, her expression soft and composed. VI’s eyes lingered on the vendor for a beat too long, just long enough for him to notice, and sweat a little, before she turned to Jinx with a crooked grin. 

“Knock yourself out, Pow.”

The nickname loosened something in the girl; a wide grin cracked across her face as she whirled back toward the stall, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. Her long limbs fidgeted, fingers twitching with barely-contained enthusiasm.

“Okay, okay, okay – uh, I want the blue one. And the purple one. Ooh, and that gold one. Is that lemon, or, like, weird science? Whatever, put it on. And the pink. And… chocolate. Actually, double chocolate. And…”

Her chatter was rapid-fire, her voice full of wonder, as if she were cataloguing treasure. She darted back and forth in front of the glass case, only barely restraining herself from launching across the counter to point directly at each container. The vendor, now visibly overwhelmed, scrambled to keep up as he scooped and stacked.

The final result was a frozen tower of architectural improbability – eight scoops high, teetering on a delicate sugar cone, swaying slightly like a skyscraper caught in a breeze.

"Uh... you sure about that, miss?" the vendor asked, his voice uncertain as he eyed the precarious structure.

From the back, Caitlyn stepped forward, the prim grace of a Kiramman noble softening into something fond. Her gloved hand touched VI’s arm gently, and she leaned in to murmur, “It’s fine. Let her have it.”

VI cast her a look, half sceptical, half amused. “Alright. But if she sugar-blasts her way up a statue, that’s on you.”

“Well,” Caitlyn replied with a sly curve of her lips. “I’m a pretty good climber.”

VI snorted, the sound low and affectionate. Jinx spun back toward them, holding the tower of frozen chaos in both hands like it was a weapon she had just forged. Her eyes sparkled with triumph, cheeks already smeared with a hint of blue and pink from her first taste.

"Think I can finish this before it melts?" she asked, already licking furiously at both sides.

“Not a chance in the underworld, kid,” VI said, folding her arms with a shake of her head. “But that ain’t gonna stop you, is it?”

“You know me so well!” She beamed, then dove face-first into the stack with a muffled squeal of delight.

Caitlyn chuckled beside them, watching the scene unfold with thinly-veiled amusement, her hand still resting lightly on VI’s arm. The tension from earlier had melted like sorbet in the sun, replaced by the comfortable warmth of shared indulgence.

The rest of their day at the festival bloomed like a vivid tapestry woven with laughter and light. They drifted through bustling streets adorned with fluttering banners in gold and sapphire, the air thick with the scent of roasted chestnuts and spun sugar. Jinx’s boundless energy led them from one spectacle to the next – dizzying carousel rides crowned with roaring clockwork birds, lively puppet shows that had her cheering and booing with equal passion, and bustling market stalls where colours exploded in every direction like a painter’s wildest dream.

VI kept a watchful eye on Jinx’s every gleeful move, while Caitlyn melted into the joy of the moment, teasing and flirting with VI whenever they found a quiet pause between the crowd’s hum. Their smiles were easy, their touches light but charged.

The sky had darkened to a deep indigo, the last traces of daylight vanishing behind Piltover’s jagged skyline. Lanterns flickered across the city like stars descending to earth, their reflections rippling across glittering windows and fountains that sang with soft, lapping water. Crowds had gathered in hushed anticipation near the heart of the festival grounds, faces turned skyward, eyes wide with expectation. Even the ever-buzzing chatter seemed to quiet, as if the whole city were holding its breath.

Then, with a sudden crack and a sharp gleam of gold, the first firework sliced through the darkness. It exploded high above in a radiant burst, showering the sky in petals of flame and colour. A collective gasp rippled through the crowd, and Jinx, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, turned sharply toward the sky, her eyes mirroring the brilliant explosions overhead.

“They’re setting off bombs in the sky, just like that!? Is that allowed?” she asked, her voice incredulous and eyes wide, as though the very sight had knocked the wind out of her. Caitlyn turned to her, watching the reflections dance in the girl’s pupils.

“Not bombs, Jinx. Fireworks!” she declared with a soft smile, her tone light but reverent. “They’re like... explosions, but crafted for beauty. To light up the sky instead of tear it down.”

Jinx stared upward, unmoving and intensely focused. Vibrant flashes casting shifting shadows across her face. Another firework erupted; a spiral of violet and silver that bloomed like a flower before fading into stardust. Her brows furrowed; she cocked her head slightly, as if trying to reconcile something deep inside.

“They’re still explosive, though, right?” she asked slowly. “But they don’t hurt people?”

“No,” Caitlyn answered gently, her voice barely louder than the whisper of wind that stirred the festival flags. “Think of it as they’re designed to celebrate. Not destroy.”

Jinx’s gaze lingered on the sky, her lips parting just slightly as another cascade of red and gold rained down in silence. There was something distant in her expression, not sadness exactly, but contemplation, as though some small, flickering part of her was trying to understand a world that used light and sound for joy, not war.

Then a warm nudge came to her side. VI bumped her shoulder with her own, her voice low and steady. “So,” she said, “You having a good time?”

Jinx turned toward her sister, her grin softened by something quieter, more genuine. She nodded once. Then, without a word, she leaned her head against VI’s broad shoulder and let out a breath, contented.

Caitlyn watched them both from VI’s other side, her hand resting lightly atop VI’s fingers, brushing in silent affection. Another firework exploded above, this time in a dazzling arch of purples, and the sky seemed to hum with magic. There, beneath the cascading lights and the booming lullaby of the night, the three of them sat.

—SIDE : BROWN—

The streets of Zaun were quieter than they had any right to be. Not in a peaceful way, never that, but in the kind of silence that felt earned by grief and long memories. The air still stank of hot iron and rot, shimmer residue still clung to gutters like ghostly veins, and every wall still bore some faded mark of the past – Silco’s past, her past. 

Sevika might’ve been a ghost herself with how she walked those streets, broad shoulders hunched slightly under the weight of something heavier than her mechanical arm.

She kept her head down. Not out of fear, there were few in Zaun who could match her in a fight, but because the stares weren’t worth meeting. What stared back wasn’t anger, not always. It was recognition. And disappointment.

She was halfway through the market district when she heard the sound: the sharp clatter of a crate tipping, a hiss of pain, then a stifled cry. Instinct moved her before thought could. She turned the corner and found a woman, older, wiry, bent over near a stack of collapsed scrap bins. One leg was pinned awkwardly beneath the debris, and her breath came in short, ragged gasps.

“Shit,” Sevika muttered and hurried forward. “Don’t move.”

The woman looked up sharply. Her face, weathered and hard from years in the Sump, went pale the moment her eyes met the gambler’s.

“You,” she hissed.

“Just hold still,” Sevika said gruffly, crouching down beside her. Her metal arm whirred as she began lifting the heavier chunks of metal, careful not to let them scrape.

But the woman flinched away, even as her leg trembled beneath the weight.

“Don’t touch me,” she spat.

Sevika hesitated, her real hand hovering in the air.

“I said— don’t touch me!” The woman slapped her hand aside and shoved herself back with a grimace, causing her to slip further under her debris, “I don’t need help from one of Silco’s dogs.”

The words hit harder than the hand. Sevika didn’t flinch. She’d heard worse. But the venom in the woman’s voice was sharp with something deeper than rage. She recognised it: grief, raw and curdled.

“My son,” the woman whimpered, panting, “Died because of your reckless shimmer imports!”

Sevika didn’t speak. She couldn’t.

“He and his friends thought it was fun and cool. A– And now…!” The woman's, the mother’s, lip trembled as she buried her hands in her fists. Sevika’s jaw clenched, but she said nothing. There were no lies left in her mouth, no defence worth raising. 

“You poisoned this place. If you think, what, lifting a box will make up for it? That you’re some hero?” she hissed, a bitter, grief-stricken laugh, 

“You’re nothing. Just another name we wish we could forget.”

With that, the gambler stood. Not because she was angry. Not because she wanted to run. But because there was nothing left to say. For the first time in her life, her mouth stayed shut. Her fists remained unclenched. Her pride didn’t come to save her.

She looked down at the woman – at her bloodied shin, her trembling hands, her eyes glistening with hurt – and the question rose like bile in her throat.

What was it all for?

She had fought for Zaun, hadn't she? Carved out a sliver of power in the shadows. Burned for a dream that had never been hers, but one she’d defended like it was. Silco had believed in strength, in defiance – but it had brought only ruin, corpses, and the kind of silence that couldn’t be filled with words or weapons.

The gambler extracted the debris nonetheless, leaving the freed lady to her devices. As she turned and walked away, the weight in her chest was somehow heavier than her steel-plated shoulder. Moving through the alleys, past crumbling murals of a revolution that had never come true, Sevika found herself thinking, not of Silco, not even of herself, but of them.

But maybe… maybe they could do what she couldn’t. Maybe those kids, with the optimism she long lacked, could bring change the right way, without making Zaun bleed for it first.

Sevika didn’t believe in heroes. She never had.

But this wasn’t about just her. Not anymore.

—SIDE : RED—

The Kiramman library was a place of quiet grandeur – polished marble floors that echoed underfoot, shelves that soared up like cathedral arches, and stained-glass skylights that filtered the afternoon sun into warm, multicoloured pools across rows of ancient tomes and neatly bound volumes.

Contrary to appearances, VI was quite the bookworm. Or rather, a poet as she’d describe herself. Though, something about Caitlyn cuddled onto her lap beneath a canope with a book of crappy joke book in her hands that managed to distract her from the literature around.

Tucked away in a corner between rows and rows of ancient old texts, VI lounged on a velvet-backed army of cushions with one leg swung up and a mischievous glint in her eyes. In her hands rested a slim, leather-bound jokebook she had plucked from a dust-covered bottom shelf, its title barely legible in faded gold script.

“Hey, listen to this one,” VI whispered, holding the book up with the enthusiasm of someone unveiling a sacred treasure. “Why’d the yordle refuse dessert?”

Caitlyn, seated cross-legged beside her with a book of political memoirs on her lap, sighed through a smile, already bracing herself. “Oh no.”

“Because he was already too full of himself,” VI announced with a triumphant grin, waggling her eyebrows for emphasis.

Caitlyn’s hands immediately flew to her mouth, muffling the burst of laughter that threatened to escape. Her shoulders shook as she tried, and failed, to hold it in. The restrained sound of her giggling only made VI laugh harder, the two of them quickly descending into a breathless mess of stifled snorts and whispered wheezing, drawing a disapproving glance from a passing librarian.

“Shh, you’re going to get us kicked out!” Caitlyn whispered between fits of laughter, dabbing the corner of her eye with her gloved fingertip.

“Don’t you own this place?” VI, undeterred, flipped a few more pages. “Here, off the dome, why did the shimmer addict wear sunglasses?”

“Please don’t.” The markswoman sighed in exasperation.

“Because she was glowin’ places!” VI pointed to her own disguised eyes before bursting out into laughter once more, slapping her knee. Whether it was the awful joke or VI’s guffaws, Caitlyn didn’t know, but she was soon pushed over the edge herself as she doubled over, one arm across her stomach, the other pressing against VI’s shoulder for balance.

“You are absolutely insufferable!” she gasped through choked giggles. VI leaned back smugly, arms spread. 

“And yet, here you are! Still beside me. Or, well,” she smirked, tapping the thigh opposite to where Caitlyn rested gently, “on me.”

“I’m reconsidering.” Caitlyn narrowed her eyes, lips twitching. 

“Liar.”

That earned her a playful nudge, Caitlyn bumping her shoulder lightly against VI’s. The look in her eyes, soft and sparkling, made it clear she had no intention of moving. Then, Caitlyn plucked the book from VI’s hands and turned a few pages. “Let’s see… Ah, here’s one: What do you call a Piltover noble who can't find their butler?”

“What?” VI raised a brow. 

“Lost.”

VI stared at her for a beat – then cracked out laughing again. “Okay, okay, that’s solid.”

Just as VI opened her mouth for another joke, likely worse than the last, she paused. The air around them was unusually still. No hum of Jinx’s usual fidgeting, no low muttering or off-tune humming. VI frowned slightly and tilted her head.

“…Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Caitlyn looked around.

“Exactly.” VI stood straight, craning her neck. “Too quiet. Where’s Powder?”

Caitlyn tucked her book under her arm and followed as VI tiptoed between two shelves, stepping carefully to keep her boots from squeaking on the polished floor. They peered around a corner and spotted her.

There, seated at a wide reading table under a domed window, was Powder, quiet and still, nose buried in a book. The angle of her hunched shoulders and furrowed brow was one of intense concentration. Beside her, a scrap of paper was filling rapidly with strange, swirling diagrams and scribbled notes, some of them underlined twice. And the main centre of attention was a hefty book resting before her, titled – Pyrotechnic Displays and Aerial Alchemy: An Exhaustive History of Fireworks.

Caitlyn’s lips curved in quiet surprise. “Well… would you look at that.”

“Never seen her so focused.” VI tilted her head, watching the girl work.

“She looks cute when she’s focused,” Caitlyn murmured, her voice touched with quiet fondness.

“She does.” VI beamed, seconds away from gushing. She rested her shoulder against the edge of the bookshelf, arms crossed, eyes still trained on the girl. “I always figured she was never a fan of books. She never wanted to read any of mine with me back then.”

“Maybe she just needed to find the right book,” Caitlyn affirmed. 

They watched for a moment longer in companionable silence. Powder chewed absently on the end of her pencil, flipping a page with the kind of care someone would give to a blueprint or a secret map. Her foot tapped unconsciously under the table, but otherwise, she was still, absorbed.

—SIDE : ROYAL BLUE—

“You’re taller than I had imagined.”

Ambessa Medarda lounged in the grand hall arms loose at her sides, broad-shouldered and utterly self-possessed. She wore a long, crimson overcoat, gold filigree trailing the seams. The wind tugged gently at her cape.

Cassandra turned slowly. “You’re less restrained than I had.”

“I’m told you’re fond of bluntness,” Ambessa said, a sly smile playing at her lips.

“I tolerate it. When it’s useful.”

They regarded one another for a long, silent moment: the matron of Piltover’s most powerful family and the lioness of Noxus, finally standing face to face after years of coded letters, intercepted memos, and tense intermediaries.

“I suppose I should thank you,” Cassandra began, motioning toward the lounge. “Your suggestions in the northern trade dispute saved me months of council bickering.”

Ambessa chuckled and seated herself with the ease of someone who had never feared being unwelcome. “And you saved me the trouble of war. A fair trade.”

They drank slowly, each sip a measured ritual, as if it might delay the inevitable. Their conversation unfolded along familiar lines at first, discussions of shipping routes near the northern docks, the fragile truce between Zaun’s chem-barons, a whisper of unrest rising from Noxian border provinces. Each topic passed between them like finely carved chess pieces.

But Cassandra’s replies, usually quick and incisive, began to lag. Her voice retained its usual clipped authority, yet there was a hollowness beneath it, as though the substance had been stripped away and only the structure remained. She nodded when she didn’t need to, and repeated herself once. Her fingers, always so still, tapped a slow rhythm against her glass. And most telling of all – her eyes never stayed long on Ambessa. They kept drifting to the horizon, to the far edge of the terrace, as if expecting a shadow to materialise.

Ambessa watched her carefully.

“Forgive me for my perceptiveness,” she said at last, setting her own drink aside and leaning forward, voice quiet but unyielding. “But tonight, your mind is not on strategy, nor on war.”

Cassandra’s response was swift but defensive – she set her glass down with a sharp clink, the stem trembling slightly in her hand. “You’re not my counsellor, Medarda.”

“No,” Ambessa said with a shrug, unoffended, her voice calm as still water. “But I know what the burden of worry does to even the best of leaders.”

Cassandra didn’t respond right away. Her jaw tightened, and her shoulders stiffened beneath the fine cut of her jacket. She looked away again, to the skyline now bathed in the last hues of dusk. Then, at last, she let out a slow breath.

“It’s my daughter.”

Ambessa raised one brow, her tone light but laced with genuine curiosity. “Caitlyn?”

Cassandra nodded, slowly, as though speaking the name pulled something loose inside her.

“She was always brilliant. Always righteous. I admired that; her clarity of belief.” Cassandra stood, pacing slowly, arms crossed. “But the world isn’t made for purity. Especially not here.”

Ambessa nodded silently.

“She’s insanely stubborn,” Cassandra continued. “She walks Zaun alone. Sides with criminals if they share her sense of justice. She’s chasing something… something noble, yes, but reckless. Dangerous.”

“She sounds familiar,” Ambessa said softly. Cassandra then turned to her, wary.

“I married an Ionian,” Cassandra said. “My own parents nearly disowned me. When Caitlyn started consorting with Zaunites, I—” she looked away, ashamed. “I wanted to be better than they were to me. But I also know what this world does idealists alive.”

“I know what it’s like to raise a daughter who believes in something more than comfort or safety. One who chooses ideals over empire.” Ambessa’s voice dropped, shedding its haughty tone. The matron leaned forward, hands pressed onto her knees. The protruding memory seemed to bring genuine pain to her.

“With that in mind,” Ambessa rose from her seat with slow, deliberate grace, the weight of her words at last outpacing the iron in her posture. Her voice, usually forged in command and precision, softened into something quieter, “I suggest you give her a win.”

“What?” Cassandra blinked, caught off guard by the gentleness. 

“Let her believe she’s changed something. Not because she’s right,” Ambessa said, stepping closer, the firelight casting gold across her sharp features. “But because if you deny her everything, she’ll run harder, push farther. And one day,” her face darkened,

“She’ll be too far gone to hear you calling her back.”

Cassandra looked down, her fingers resting atop one another in her lap. She turned her palms over, staring at them as though they were foreign. Hands that once cradled Caitlyn’s fevered brow. That braided her hair before academy exams. That held her back from chasing danger she didn’t yet understand. Hands now clenched in a silence laced with fear, yes, but pride too, stubborn and aching.

“I tried to forge my daughter into a weapon,” Ambessa whispered, her voice heavier now, like stone dragged across marble. “Polished her like steel. Shaped her for battle. But she wasn’t meant for my wars.” She paused. “And in the end, I had to send her away. A choice that will never leave me.”

The two women stood across from one another, divided by candlelight and the vast, invisible chasm of motherhood. For a moment, neither spoke.

Then Cassandra looked up. Her eyes were damp, but not weakened. There was still resolve there, tempered by something older than diplomacy. Love, reluctantly guided by fear.

“It doesn’t have to be grand,” Ambessa said, softer now. “Girls like ours, they don’t need parades. Just a sign they matter. A foothold. Let her plant a flag somewhere, even if it’s on ground you could’ve claimed yourself.”

Cassandra inhaled slowly, and the air felt heavier in her lungs.

“But remember, only you can choose what you’re willing to sacrifice. Per my advice?” Ambessa turned, pausing at the threshold of the terrace.

“Don’t let it be your daughter.”

—SIDE : BROWN—

“Back off!”

Sevika hunched beneath a flickering streetlight, its dying filament whining like a mosquito. Her mechanical arm, damp from the gutter rain, buzzed faintly as she flexed the fingers, more out of habit than intent. She hadn’t smoked in hours. The ache in her jaw made her wish she had.

Ahead, raised voices cracked through the steam-choked air. Sevika paused.

A group of chembarons – six, maybe seven – stood in a rough semicircle around someone. At their feet, crates were scattered, glowing faintly with shimmer residue. The scene was familiar. An ambush disguised as a shakedown.

At the centre of it, a young Firelight stood her ground. Masked, short, wiry. A battered hoverboard floated behind her like a loyal dog. One arm was raised defensively, the other held a stun-pistol.

Sevika almost kept walking.

But something held her there; maybe the way the girl didn’t flinch, even when one of the goons stepped close enough to spit on her boots. Maybe the way she looked too damn young to die tonight.

Or maybe it was the familiarly cropped pink hair.

She let out a slow, gravelly exhale through her nose, the breath catching slightly in her chest. Then, without ceremony, she stepped forward into the mouth of the alley. The hiss of her cybernetic arm grazing the corroded pipe lining echoed louder than expected, and every head turned at once.

The groups’ eyes snapped to her - sneering and hungry. Overhead flourescents glowed wildly, catching the dull gunmetal sheen of her shoulder. Sparks sputtered somewhere behind her, painting the moment in electric unease.

“Evenin’,” Sevika muttered, lighting a cigarette with a flick of her thumb’s embedded heating coil. Her voice was low, bone-dry, worn rough by years of shouting over machines and swallowing smoke.

The largest of the enforcers took a step forward. Muscled, armored, and too cocky for his own good. He squinted, then curled his lip.

“Sevika?” he barked, tone incredulous. “You still skulkin’ around the gutters? Thought you’d’ve gone under with that glass-eyed boss of yours.”

She gave him a lazy glance, took a long drag, and exhaled a stream of smoke through her nostrils.

“Guess we’re both disappointed,” she said flatly. “And bored. This little sideshow looks like it’d be over too fast without me in it.”

The thug snorted, half-laughing, but the sound withered the second Sevika took a step forward. Clunk. Her boots rang heavy against the slick metal floor, echoing like warning bells. The hum of her shoulder-mounted rotary weapon stirred with a low mechanical whir, subtle but unmistakable. A sound that made veterans flinch.

She stopped only a few paces away; close enough for them to see the luminescent scar running across her cheek and jaw, the old burn marks on her cybernetics, the look in her eyes that said she’d lost more than they could imagine – and come out the other side meaner.

“Let’s keep it a buck,” she said, her voice turning knife-sharp. “How ‘bout you go find some greedy bastard your own size to screw with?”

Sevika wasn’t just intimidating, she was cut from a different mould. Heavyset, scarred, reinforced with steel and smoke. She radiated the kind of presence that didn’t ask for space. It took it. Her name still carried weight in Zaun. Second, only to the brat she mentored.

The others began shifting, uncomfortable now. Their gazes flicked to the rotating weapon curled atop her shoulder, the faint hiss of pressure coils warming. Not aiming, not threatening. Just... reminding.

The ringleader’s jaw clenched. He spat to the side, saliva catching the light as it struck the wall.

“Not worth it,” he muttered, tone clipped. “Let the brat go.”

They moved off, muttering curses and dragging their shimmer crates behind them. Sevika didn’t look at them as they left. Only when the last footstep faded did she glance at the Firelight. Her bow and arrow were still pointed at her.

“You’re welcome,” Sevika huffed, dragging another long pull from her cigarette. Smoke curled from the corner of her mouth, hiding whatever expression might’ve lingered behind it.

The Firelight didn’t lower her weapon. Her mask muffled her voice, but not the edge in it – suspicious. 

“Since when’d you become Prince Charming?”

“Don’t take it personal,” Sevika barked, a dry laugh, flicking ash with a practised snap of her prosthetic fingers. It sparked as it hit the damp alley floor. “I just enjoy knocking overfed egos off their crates.”

Still, the Firelight kept her weapon raised, focused, but slightly shaking. Her body was tense, coiled like she still expected a knife in the back.

Sevika tilted her head, just enough to be condescending. “You gonna shoot me, brat?”

A long beat passed between them. Then, with a huff that sounded as annoyed as it did conflicted, the girl eased her arm down. Not all the way.

“Why didn’t you attack me?” she asked, voice quieter now, but no less pointed. “Aren’t those your people?”

Sevika gave a lazy shrug, as if the whole thing bored her. “I don’t hit pipsqueaks.”

The Firelight rolled her eyes, so dramatically it might’ve spun her whole head around. “Wow,” she muttered. “You’re a real treat, you know that?”

“Tell your friends,” Sevika deadpanned, then dropped the cigarette and crushed it under her heel. Her tone hadn’t changed, but the weight in the air had. Something unspoken passed between them – not trust, but the absence of hostility. A crack in the wall.

The Firelight finally slid her bow and arrow into the holster on her back. Her stance loosened, though her eyes still narrowed behind the mask. She looked Sevika up and down, as if reassessing what she was actually seeing.

“You look like shit,” she said, blunt as a pipe wrench.

Sevika snorted once, a sound that started as a laugh but ended in a cough she barely caught. “What can I say?” she coughed hoarsely, wiping the back of her mouth with her wrist. “Been that kind of week.”

The girl appeared contemplative for a second before reaching into a worn side pouch. Out of it, she pulled a dented metal canteen and offered it wordlessly.

“You didn’t have to step in. So… here. Take it.” She offered. Sevika eyed the canteen but didn’t move. Her expression hardened just slightly; old instinct flaring up. Don’t like gifts. Don’t like debt.

She shook her head. “Give it to someone who deserves it.”

The Firelight held the canteen out for a heartbeat longer, then gave a quiet grunt and recapped it. She didn’t look offended, moreso resigned.

“I don’t like you,” she mumbled plainly, slinging the canteen back to her hip. “But I owe you.”

Sevika’s lips quirked into something that almost resembled a smile. There was no warmth in it, but there wasn’t scorn either. Just tired irony.

“Join the club,” the older woman returned, turning slightly, as if ready to disappear back into the alley’s shadow.

“So, if you need something,” the girl added, stepping onto her hoverboard, “I don’t know, leave a mark near the docks? Something obvious. I’ll come by.”

Before Sevika could respond, the Firelight rose into the smoke-heavy air, her board whining as it carried her up and away into Zaun’s toxic skyline.

And she just stood there a while, letting the silence float back in. Then she kicked the remains of her cigarette into the gutter and walked on, slower than before, but with just a bit less weight on her back.

—SIDE : INDIGO—

The manor was quiet, its usual grandeur softened by the hour. Moonlight filtered in through high-arched windows, painting the hallways in silvery blues and muted gold. Caitlyn’s shoes clicked softly against the marble as she moved, fatigue setting into her limbs like an old, familiar friend.

It had been a good day in Piltover. For once in a long while.

The festival was incredibly fun, even if they wound up having a water fight in a nearby fountain. Hiding in the groves of the library was fun, even after Jinx unceremoniously fell asleep and VI carried her so gingerly back to her room. 

And going for a lonesome stroll in their garden was fun, too. The young Kiramman noticed she still had a bit of pep in her step; encouraging VI to head to bed without her. The girl had never been fond of being on her own, despite finding herself in that circumstance so often. But this was different. Brisk air nipped at her nose as she basked in the moonlight. All the lovely memories of her day out floated around in her mind. If she wasn’t careful, she’d end up falling asleep.

“Caitlyn.”

That was certainly a way to stay awake. She turned sharply, facing a sigh that made her eyes widen.

Her mother stood in the doorway.

Not a maid. Not a summons. Not a sealed envelope with the Council’s insignia. Cassandra Kiramman stood there herself, regal, elegant, still dressed in the tail end of her daywear, though her sleeves were rolled up and the tightness around her eyes betrayed exhaustion.

Caitlyn stared, half-expecting a reprimand, then swiftly furrowed her brows.

“Mother? Did something happen?” she questioned, dubious. Cassandra’s gaze swept over her, clinical as ever, though lacking its usual sharpness. 

“Breathe,” she spoke, voice quieter than either had expected. “You win.”

That stopped her. “I… I what?”

Cassandra stepped into the room, the door clicking shut behind her. She didn’t sit. She simply folded her arms and leaned ever so slightly against the wall, as if she weren’t entirely sure why she’d come in the first place.

“The council,” she elaborated. “If you truly believe in your cause, you can bring your concerns to the chamber directly. Two days’ time.”

Caitlyn blinked. “Wait, you’re actually—?”

“Yes. I’ve arranged for you to present your case regarding advocacy in our relations with The Undercity. Limited session. No grandstanding. No special treatment.” Her mother’s hands rested in her lap as her lips rested lethargically in a tired smile.

Caitlyn’s guard was still halfway up, her shoulders tense beneath her undershirt. She studied her mother’s face, looking for the trap; some lesson or price. But Cassandra didn’t look her usual shade of arrogant.

She looked... tired.

Caitlyn’s voice came softer. “Why now?”

There was a pause. Cassandra’s eyes shifted, choosing her words carefully.

“Because…” The matriarch paused, looking off into the vast garden, “I trust the judgment I raised you to have.” 

Caitlyn didn’t know what to say.

Eventually, the older Kiramman straightened, smoothing the front of her dress. Her chin lifted slightly, the ever-present armour reasserting itself.

“Get some rest,” she reminded, with her typical chide, “You’ll need it.”

And with that, she turned and let herself out, leaving Caitlyn alone with her thoughts, the echo of her words still settling like pollen dancing by the flowerbeds.

“Holy shit…”

Chapter Text

—SIDE : INDIGO—

Kiramman wished she could have said she didn’t sleep last night, but the day had been quite exhausting. When she inevitably made it back to her bedroom, she found the only thing in her power was to collapse into the warm embrace of her lover’s slumbering body and be whisked away in the warmth to dreamland.

Now, the sun had reared its imposing presence again, and Caitlyn realised her bed was missing something.

Someone.

She moved briskly through the corridors, her bare feet making no sound, dressing robe cinched at her waist, dark silk clinging neatly to her frame and hair still tousled from sleep, but her eyes sharp with purpose.

An alluring sight, but very much not the point.

Finally, the scent of something sizzling led her to the heart of the manor: the kitchen. Somewhere, she very rarely found herself, actually. Caitlyn paused at the threshold.

There she was.

At the centre of the grand, high-ceilinged kitchen stood VI, sleeves haphazardly rolled up past her elbows, hair pushed to one side in a half-wild mess. She was barefoot, sporting a tight, white wife pleaser clinging to her torso and chest like it had been sewn on. Faint lines of old scars caught in the morning light, barely covered by her lingering powder. In one hand, she wielded a cast iron pan with all the reverence of a miner gripping a pickaxe.

Caitlyn stopped in the doorway, blinking. The sunlight from the high window hit her partner’s shoulders just so, making the fine sheen of sweat glisten on her biceps. With a smirk already forming, VI looked up from the stove.

“Uh oh,” she chirped, faux guilt dripping from her tone. “I’ve been caught.” She flipped an egg with a flick of her wrist and let it sizzle as she turned to face her.

“What are you doing?” Kiramman intrigued, arms folded, head tilted, and voice curious. VI turned fully now, leaning her hip against the counter like she owned the room. 

“Got up early ‘n figured I’d make my own breakfast. But, if you’d have seen those ladies’ faces, you’d think I’d said I had a bomb on me.” She snorted a laugh, brushing a loose strand of pink behind her ear. Caitlyn shook her head slowly, suppressing a smile. She stepped into the room, the cool tiles cold beneath her bare feet as she watched VI with a blend of affection and mild disbelief.

“You could’ve woken me,” The markswoman frowned, arching a brow. “I thought you left.” Though as soon as she saw VI’s grin widen, Caitlyn immediately regretted her words.

“Aww, ya missed me?” the brawler cooed, moving closer, casually wiping her hands on a towel slung over her shoulder. “My apologies, sugar, but I couldn’t bring myself to wake you. Arms all tucked under the pillow, mouth slightly open. Adorable.”

Caitlyn flushed slightly despite herself, casting a quick glance at the window as though the sunlight might shield her from the teasing. “Adorable? Really?” The young Kiramman put on a prim voice, but her pale cheekbones were tinted red almost instantaneously.

“Realest.” VI chuckled, her smug grin unbearably evident now. Caitlyn’s jaw visibly tightening and face reddening even more didn’t help at all. “

In an attempt to swerve from VI’s relentless attacks, Caitlyn approached, now close enough to catch the subtle warmth radiating off the stove and the even warmer look VI gave her under soft lashes. She took a breath, trying to suppress the smirk threatening her lips.

“Anyhow, I have... some unfortunate news,” Caitlyn sighed, tone quickly adopting a seemingly well-practised macabre pitch. VI instantly tensed, the pan tilted dangerously in her grip. Her brows knitted tightly as if begging her partner to speak without the courage to say so. In prompt, Caitlyn stepped closer, 

“My mother,” she said, her gaze low. Her lips stayed parted for a small while, trying to gauge VI’s expression from her peripheral vision. Once she felt she had adequately drawn out the tension, the sharpshooter let the sentence end. 

“...Is finally cooperating.”

VI blinked. 

“Huh?”

“We have a council meeting,” Caitlyn reiterated, the mask of seriousness crumbling into a crooked grin. “In less than forty-eight hours! VI, we have an audience.” Eagerly, she grabbed her girlfriend’s hands, rocking up and down on her heels excitedly in anticipation of her reaction/

“Shut up,” VI finally registered her words, eyes wide. “Are you serious?”

Caitlyn gave a delighted laugh, her blue eyes sparkling alight. “Deadly. She came to me last night. Personally. No proxy. No summons. Just walked into my room and—”

She didn’t finish. Rather, she couldn’t, as VI had already set the pan aside and pulled her into a quick, fierce kiss, one hand cradling the back of Caitlyn’s neck, the other still warm from the handle of the pan. And, oh, how Kiramman melted into it, arms winding around VI’s waist, her nose catching the faint scent of oil and something herbal. 

When they, eventually, broke apart, VI rested her forehead against Caitlyn’s, breath brushing her skin.

“This is huge, Cait,” VI breathed, her voice trembling with a mix of awe and disbelief. Her eyes were wide, fixed on Caitlyn as though she were still trying to process the weight of what they’d just uncovered. “This could change everything.”

“I know,” Caitlyn replied, her voice steadier but no less intense. Her fingers moved absentmindedly, curling around the edge of VI’s shirt, grounding herself in the moment. “That’s exactly why we need to be ready for it all.”

With that, they sat side by side at the kitchen counter. VI gingerly passed Caitlyn a plate, their hands brushing briefly. As the initial shock began to settle, Caitlyn piped up first. “The council’s going to push back. Just because they’ll listen doesn’t mean they’ll listen.”

Her words hung in the air like the calm before a storm, and VI’s expression darkened with understanding, stabbing her eggs like they’d personally offended her.  “I hear it. When someone doesn’t wanna hear, you gotta make 'em see.” 

“And I think you’re the best person to make them see.” Caitlyn firmly nodded in agreement, providing a reassuring hand on VI’s thigh, to which VI responded with an uncertain sidelong glance. “...You think?” She muttered, hesitantly.

“I know,” The young Kiramman turned to VI; corners of her mouth lifting into a gentle smile – reassuring and steady (the kind VI had come to rely on more than she liked to admit). VI’s fork paused mid-stab, her jaw tightening slightly. The doubt lingered, stubborn. She looked down, the muscles in her neck twitching like she was holding back a hundred reactions at once. 

Silently, Caitlyn reached over to pepper a few kisses on VI’s neck. Caught off guard, VI finally let out a giggle, a small exhale moreso, but it loosened her shoulders all the same. “You’re right, you’re right. Can’t let these assholes into my head.”

And, like magic, both of the women’s worries seemed to disappear into thin air. They spoke with an unspoken momentum, gathered like a tide, pulling them forward. Caitlyn felt as if nothing else in the world could draw her focus away from the beauty before her, passionate in all her glory. Well, until…

Until something moved. Just at the edge of her vision. Pricking up, the girl’s eyes darted toward the kitchen doorway.

Yet, nothing. The doorway was as empty as it had been when she walked in.

“You good?” VI seemed to crack open her unsettlement effortlessly.

“Yeah,” Caitlyn said too quickly. “Just... tired.”

VI gave her a look that said she didn’t buy it, but she didn’t press. Thankfully so. Caitlyn tried to shake off the chill creeping up her spine. It was probably just a result of staying up too late.

Probably.

—SIDE : BLUE —

In a quiet, cluttered corner of the Kiramman estate's lower workshops, Jinx worked feverishly.

Grease-streaked fingers glided across the parchment, each stroke deliberate and alive. The long table before her was buried under a landslide of blueprints and half-finished sketches, edges curling from heat and haste, paper overlapping like plates of shattered thought. It was chaos, but it was hers.

The explosions from earlier still lived behind her eyes, seared like afterimages. She hadn’t blinked when they happened; she couldn’t. Each burst of light had detonated something inside her: curiosity, hunger, longing. Possibility in bloom. She didn’t want to just watch them. She wanted to hold them. Shape them.

‘Fireworks’

The blueprints she worked were technically fireworks by definition, but certainly not by anyone’s perception (except Jinx’s). 

Her reimagining was unmistakable: exaggerated shapes, brutal flourishes, absurd detail packed into the margins. She sketched a coiling spiral, then crosshatched it into the curve of a shark’s dorsal fin. Twin barrels jutted from its open mouth, flanked by slotted feed lines. She diagrammed a rotary fuse, then scrawled notes in her jagged handwriting – half formulas, half sound effects.

"Boom... boom... fzzzz... then chomp," she muttered under her breath, the tip of her tongue peeking out from the corner of her mouth as she drew. Her whole body was tense with excitement. Hair dishevelled, knees up on the bench, boots discarded somewhere across the room: she was utterly consumed.

Pausing, her eyes darting over her masterpiece. The design was ludicrous. Unstable. Probably impossible.

She loved it.

With a wicked grin, she leaned over and, in oversized letters that cut across the side margin like a tattoo on skin, she wrote its name:

FISHBONES.

Something laughed inside her. That name sang.

The door creaked.

Jinx didn’t look up.

Cassandra Kiramman stood in the threshold, her garments as regal as ever, but less ceremonial than her usual council garb. Her arms were folded, her expression unreadable. 

“Such a massive house, and you confined yourself to this tiny corner of it?”

Jinx kept drawing. But this didn’t dissuade the matriarch, instead, prompting her to step into the room, heels clicking faintly on the floor as she approached the table. Her eyes flicked over the mess of schematics, half-assembled gears, and smudged graphite. She paused at the sight of the name.

“Fishbones?” she echoed, brow lifting.

Jinx hummed a response, vague and unbothered with an elaboration. She flipped the page and continued scribbling. Her stained fingers were a blur of colour, graphite, and ink. Cassandra studied her for a moment, saying nothing.

“I didn’t realise you were... creative,” she said at last, attempting once more to crack the ice.

Jinx shrugged.

“Are you building a weapon?”

Jinx shrugged.

There was that carefully maintained distance again. Something the teenager had mastered for a good few years now. It was perfect for being left alone. But, unluckily for her, Cassandra was persistent.

“You’ve got talent,” she continued. “I’m sure, with the right circumstances, you could be wonderfully nurtured.”

Jinx tilted her head, but only to get a different angle of her blueprints. 

“I’m merely trying to understand my guest.” Cassandra’s mouth tightened.

“Don’t.” The ex-convict leaned back, balancing her chair on two legs with reckless ease. The only words she had spoken during their entire so-called conversation. Cassandra stepped closer to the table, fingertips brushing one of the cleaner blueprints. For a second, she looked genuinely intrigued. But Jinx knew better than to be so easily fooled.

Another pause. 

“I’m sure your sister is proud of your work.”

Jinx’s hand stopped. Mid-sketch. Just for a moment. She didn’t look up. But she had already given the woman the response she was waiting for. Trying to swiftly reconcile her momentary display of weakness, she gave another shrug, accompanied by an unintelligible mumble.

Cassandra watched the shrug, but more importantly, she watched what came after: the stillness. The way Jinx didn’t quite resume sketching. Not properly. The charcoal hovered over the parchment, but her hand had lost its rhythm.

“The fireworks at the festival,” Cassandra said softly, almost wistfully, her words draped in silk. She stepped closer to the edge of the worktable, her gaze sweeping lazily across the clutter. Her tone was dipped in admiration, but every saccharine word came out calculated, “Was that the inspiration?”

No answer. Cassandra’s eyes lingered on the jagged mouth in the schematic. Something twisted, uncontainable, clawing its way out of an otherwise mechanical drawing. She continued, voice steady, artfully shaped – like all things Kiramman.

“I’m not surprised. They really are something, aren’t they? There’s a kind of magic to it. That sort of spectacle; so bold, so alive.” She let a smile graze the edge of her lips. “A beauty one can’t help but want to recreate.”

The silence stretched, taut as a wire. Cassandra filled it with movement, slowly pacing the width of the room like a curator in a gallery. Her hand gestured idly as she spoke, fingers tracing meaningless patterns in the air. Light, effortless gestures.

“But of course,” she said after a beat, letting her voice drop just slightly, “yours seems to have taken it… a step further.”

Her eyes didn’t move to meet Jinx’s. Not yet. She let the words hang between them, trailing invisible hooks behind them. When she finally did glance sideways, it was calculated. Measuring. Waiting.

She saw the twitch of Jinx’s fingers, the minute curl of her shoulders inward. The way her arms drew close as if to shield the schematics, or maybe herself.

“A brilliant mind like yours,” Cassandra murmured, and now her voice coiled tighter, still polite, still poised, but unmistakably edged, “must still be... exhausting at times. I can only imagine what your sister deals with. I’m sure it can’t be easy.”

Still smiling. Still pleasant.

But the poison was in the delivery.

“I mean, it’s unorthodox, certainly,” she added with a vague wave of her hand toward the blueprints. “But I suppose it probably works for you two, hm?”

It probably works.

The phrase landed like a stone in water. Jinx’s gaze didn’t leave the paper, but her perspiration began to smudge her parchment. Her grip had tightened. A faint tremor danced in her fingers, invisible to anyone not paying attention. But Cassandra saw.

“I’m interested to learn more about your family unit. Do please feel free to stop by,” and, with that, the matriarch concluded her conversation – or, rather, one-sided interrogation – stepping back, adjusting the sleeve of her robe. Her voice had lightened, as though the previous statements had been casual observations rather than veiled accusations. 

With that, she turned and left the room.

The door clicked shut behind her.

The girl sat frozen, her breath short and shallow, gaze locked on the twisting, spiralling lines in front of her. Fishbones’ grin stared back. Mocking. Her jaw clenched.

Then, without warning, she let out a sharp, guttural growl and hurled the nearest thing she could reach, a rusted wrench, across the room. It slammed into the wall, sending a dull clang through the air, tools scattering off a nearby shelf.

The blueprint shook beneath her hands.

“StupidSTUPIDSTUPID!”

“What does a stupid TOPSIDER know?”

“ARGH— SHE, she thinks… She doesn’t KNOW!”

Powder felt control slipping from her, quivering hands grabbing fistfuls of her hair as she pulled her body around like a ragdoll. Feeling tears arrive, she instinctively bit into the palm of her hand. Self-soothing or self-silencing? It didn’t matter. Vision a blur, she burst out of the room, rushing aimlessly down the halls.

—SIDE : RED—

VI moved through the grand estate…

With a duster.

Why???

VI had seen how antsy the maids had gotten at her request to make her own breakfast. How could she resist seeing their faces when she dared to weaponise the all-deadly feather duster? Besides, she was fond of cleaning to relieve stress. And, as much as she was beyond grateful for Caitlyn and everything she’s done, the new circumstance was admittedly a lot to get used to.

Every surface gleamed like it had never known dirt. Every vase and gilded frame looked too expensive to breathe near. She wiped a marble shelf with a practised motion but kept glancing over her shoulder.

The crew of uniformed ladies watched her. Or, more like stalked her.

Not openly, but VI felt their eyes like pinpricks between her shoulder blades, furtive glances exchanged over porcelain teacups, polite nods that didn’t hide the suspicion beneath. She wasn't one of them. Not in uniform.

Definitely not in class.

She gritted her teeth and turned to dust a high shelf. The feather duster swept lightly over the polished wood, but her grip tightened on it anyway.

“Surprised to see you working,” came a smooth voice from behind.

VI turned slowly.

Lady Cassandra Kiramman stood in the doorway, hands delicately folded in front of her. Perfect posture, perfect tailoring. Every inch, the highborn matriarch.

“Just pulling my weight,” VI replied evenly, her voice clipped but civil. “Figured I should since your daughter’s been… real hospitable.”

“Yes. I’ve noticed. You two seem to be getting along quite well.” Cassandra smiled, but there was steel behind it. VI gave a small shrug. “She’s decent company. Good head on her shoulders.”

“How generous of you to say,” Cassandra said, tone as smooth as silk, as if VI had handed Caitlyn a compliment she didn’t deserve. “And how long do you intend to remain in our home?”

“Long as I’m welcome,” VI said, locking eyes with her. “Or useful.”

Cassandra tilted her head, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as she studied VI like one might examine a weapon behind glass, beautiful in function, but dangerous to mishandle.

“And Powder?” she asked smoothly, voice low and measured. “Is she your daughter?”

VI blinked, taken off guard. Her spine straightened, but she kept her posture casual, even as unease flickered behind her eyes. “No… She’s my little sister.”

“Ah, yes, that was it.” Cassandra nodded slowly, her tone light with theatrical forgetfulness. Then, with a faint arch of her brow, she added, “Though… aren’t you a bit young to be responsible for a child?”

The jab landed. VI’s mouth pulled into a tight line as her fingers flexed at her sides, knuckles whitening.

“Well,” she said flatly, voice hardening like steel cooling into shape, “everyone else who could’ve looked after us is dead. So, yeah. It’s me or no one.” VI’s words hung in the air like barbed wire. But Cassandra didn’t flinch.

Instead, she glided forward with slow, deliberate steps, her boots barely making a sound on the polished floor.

“I must say,” she mused, eyes drifting toward the window as if lost in some benign observation, “she’s very talented, that little one. In a different setting… she might’ve truly thrived.”

“She is thriving,” VI snapped back before she could stop herself. Her jaw clenched, breath sharp. She didn’t like where this was going; she could feel the hook beneath the bait. Cassandra turned to face her again, hands clasped neatly in front of her. 

“Do you believe that?”

Each syllable was a needle, pricking exactly where it hurt.

“I don’t mean to insult you,” she went on, tone syrupy and utterly insincere. “But surely you’ve thought about it. If she stayed here – with structure and resources – she might stand a chance at a normal life.”

The sharp crack of splintering wood echoed through the otherwise silent room, a harsh punctuation to the tension that had been quietly building like steam in a sealed pipe. VI’s eyes flicked downward, barely comprehending the broken remains of the wooden handle now clenched in her hands. Her fingers had tightened around it unconsciously, pressure mounting with every veiled insult and strategic barb Cassandra had laid at her feet.

She hadn’t even realised.

Her breath caught for a second, shallow and uneven. Splinters bit into her palms, but she didn’t flinch. Instead, she forced a grin onto her face, wide and brittle, painted on like a bad disguise. It didn’t reach her eyes.

Because her eyes were betraying her.

A glimmer began to shine through the edges of her irises. That cursed shimmer, faint but unmistakable. The contacts dulled it, masked it most days. But now, anger threatened to burn right through the lenses.

Normal.

The word burned like acid.

VI’s lip curled in disgust, fists curling at her sides. It was almost laughable. The same people who threw her baby sister in jail are now trying to tell her that she’d be better off with them?

Killing us isn’t enough, she thought bitterly. Gotta rebuild us in its image, too.

But Cassandra wasn’t finished. She looked VI straight in the eye and, with the kind of ease only the powerful can afford, said:

“And then, you’d have no reason to stay here. No more sneaking around. No more risking your little secret getting out.”

The sentence dropped like a guillotine.

VI’s body went rigid.

Her heart kicked up against her ribs. Cold sweat prickled the back of her neck. The casual way Cassandra said it, as though it were an offhand remark, only made it worse. A threat wrapped in civility. A blade hidden in lace.

The genteel curve of Cassandra’s lips that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Six, the notorious criminal from the Undercity. I must say, it’s quite bold of you to impose yourself in a councillor’s home with a record like that. Not to mention, your little sister is the infamous Stillwater escapist, is she not—”

“Cassandra.”

VI’s voice cracked like a whip.

The matriarch’s eyes fell to her. The smile didn’t vanish, but it faltered slightly. A bead of tension formed in the space between them, taut and humming like a drawn bowstring.

VI straightened, letting the duster clatter to the floor without so much as a glance. She stepped forward, slow and deliberate, closing the distance until only a foot of polished marble stood between them. Her gaze held Cassandra’s, steady and unblinking.

“I’m sure you’re a smart woman, Lady Kiramman,” VI spoke, her voice low, cool. Too calm. “So, I’m sure you really don’t want to make an enemy of me.”

Cassandra’s brows lifted, faintly, involuntarily, but she wouldn’t dignify the pressing with a verbal response.

“Because, after all,” VI drawled, her voice a silk thread pulled taut with warning, “who would threaten the woman their daughter beds with?”

She said it with an ease that dripped insolence – like she enjoyed watching the way Cassandra's composure cracked, if only for a heartbeat. The older woman’s lips parted slightly, but she quickly sealed them shut again, jaw tightening. Her breath caught in her throat, visible only to the most trained eye, but VI saw it. She always saw it.

The temperature in the room shifted. That polished, distant chill Cassandra always wore like a second skin turned to frost. Still, she didn’t retreat. Not physically. But she didn’t answer either.

VI took another step forward. And another. When she came to a stop, she was close, too close. The warmth of her breath brushing Cassandra’s cheek, her presence heavy and inescapable. Her shadow nearly swallowed the older woman whole. It wasn’t a shove, not physically, but it might as well have been. Cassandra found herself nearly backed into the wall, her hand tightening at her side to keep from reacting.

VI’s grin spread wide, sharp and full of teeth, with something more primal. Her eyes gleamed beneath the flicker of chandelier light, a predator’s calm.

“Don’t worry,” she cooed, lifting both hands in a mock gesture of innocence, palms raised, voice sweetened with poison. “I’m not threatening her.”

Her head tilted, mock-thoughtful.

“Hell, I love her.”

Those words landed heavy in the air. Unvarnished. Earnest, even. But they were quickly followed by the sting.

“But if we’re playing games…” The brawler leaned in closer, voice dropping to a low rasp, her smirk never faltering. “You should know, I don’t play fair.”

Silence followed: suffocating. For a long moment, Cassandra simply stood there, pinned beneath VI’s presence and those cool, unblinking eyes. That brief flutter of uncertainty. That slip in control. 

VI felt it all.

She stepped back at last, casual as ever, brushing made-up dust from her vest.

“Anyway,” she added breezily, walking toward the door without a second glance, “we all want what’s best for Cait, right?”

“So let’s just play nice.” Just before she vanished into the hallway, she tossed a final glance over her shoulder, her voice light and mocking, 

“What do you say, mother-in-law?”

…

Despite her bold show of defiance, the echo of Cassandra’s words clung to VI like oil: smothering and impossible to shake. Every step she took felt heavier as if the polished floors were dragging her back toward that venom-laced interaction. Her fists were clenched tight at her sides, nails biting into her palms.

But none of that mattered now. Only one thing did.

Powder.

She picked up her pace.

Something in her gut had shifted the moment she’d walked away. A gnawing sensation, growing sharper with every breath, some part of her already knew something was wrong. That somehow, Powder had heard.

She reached the door and froze.

It was slightly ajar. Just enough for VI to hear the sounds she dreaded: a soft, broken sniffle. The quiet rustle of movement. The stifled hiccups of someone trying their hardest not to be heard. VI’s heart twisted in her chest.

“Pow pow?” she called, gently, almost afraid of her own voice.

No answer.

She pushed the door open fully. The room was dim, lit only by a low lamp on the far desk, casting a golden wash over the chaos of blueprints, loose bolts, and sketched explosions. But it wasn’t the mess that pulled VI’s attention.

It was her sister.

Powder sat on the floor by the edge of the bed, knees pulled to her chest, arms wrapped around them like a cage. Her head was buried between them, hair falling in limp blue curtains that shrouded her face. Her entire body shook with quiet sobs, barely audible but unmistakable. There was a wrench embedded in the wall across from her. Deep. Hurled in anger and grief. 

VI’s breath caught in her throat. She moved before she could think.

“Hey, hey,” she whispered, dropping to her knees beside her. “Powder, look at me.”

Jinx didn’t lift her head. Her fingers only tightened around her knees, white-knuckled, as if bracing herself for something worse.

“No, baby blue, no,” VI murmured, her voice cracking as she reached out. “Come here. Please.”

At the sound of those words – the same ones VI had always used when they were younger, after nightmares – the girl finally responded. Not with words, but with motion. She collapsed into VI’s arms without resistance, like her strength had simply vanished.

VI caught her and held her close. Her arms wrapped around her sister with fierce protectiveness, like if she just held tight enough, she could shield her from everything. From the world, from Piltover, from Cassandra, even from herself.

“I’ve got you,” VI whispered, pressing her forehead to Jinx’s temple. “I’ve got you, Pow. I’m right here.”

Powder didn’t speak. She couldn’t. She didn’t need to. The shuddering of her breath, the way she clung to VI like a lifeline, the soft, broken whimpers muffled into her shoulder said everything.

VI rocked her gently, her own throat tight.

“I’m not leaving,” she said firmly. “Not now, not ever. You hear me? You’re stuck with me.”

Still, Powder said nothing.

She just wept in her sister’s arms, the fragile noise of it clawing at VI’s heart. And VI didn’t try to stop her. She didn’t try to fix it, or hush it, or distract her. She just stayed, holding her through it all.

“Nothing and no one is ever gonna take you from me.”

—SIDE : INDIGO—

Caitlyn sat hunched over the war table in the study, a meticulous array of documents, maps, and old decrees splayed out before her like the pieces of a chessboard. Her brows furrowed in focus as she traced her fingers over the outline of the council chamber, mentally calculating everything from seating arrangements to persuasive angles.

She hadn’t stopped moving since morning. Strategy was her comfort zone. It grounded her. The thought of finally facing the council, with VI and Jinx both at her side, had filled her with a nervous sort of excitement, the kind that tightened the chest and demanded precision. For once, her mother had agreed to something monumental. They couldn’t afford to waste it.

A soft knock on the open door caught her attention.

VI leaned against the frame, arms crossed, looking slightly more unkempt than usual. Her eyes were shadowed with something that didn’t belong there. Caitlyn straightened immediately, warmth blooming across her face at the sight of her.

“There you are,” she beamed, setting her quill down. “I’ve been looking over everything for the meeting. I think we’re in a good place. Let me run some stuff by you.”

VI’s smile came slowly, crooked – one of those grins she’d perfected in the alleys of Zaun, sharp enough to pass for confidence, dull enough to hide everything else. But it didn’t reach her eyes. Not even close.

“Yeah,” she tried to chirp, but her voice pitched low. “Sounds good.”

Caitlyn didn’t miss the hollowness behind the words. She angled her head, dark brows knitting with concern. “Are you okay?”

VI gave a shrug, casual on the surface, but the movement was too quick, too forced. “Yeah. Just… Powder was having a rough time, that’s all. She’s asleep now, though.”

There was something guarded in the way she said it. Not evasive; locked up. Like her throat had closed around something she wasn’t ready to name. Her posture was loose, but Caitlyn could see the tension clinging to the corners of her mouth, the slight pull between her brows, the way she wasn’t quite meeting her gaze.

The young Kiramman stepped away from the cluttered table, soft in her approach. She reached out gently, fingers brushing over VI’s scarred knuckles compassionately before curling her hand into hers. Warm. Calloused. Trembling, ever so faintly.

“Did something happen?” she asked softly, searching VI’s face. “Was it my mother?”

She hated the sharpness in her tone when she said the word mother, resentment she wasn’t sure she had the right to feel, but couldn’t seem to stop from surfacing.

VI’s jaw shifted, teeth grinding together for a second as if weighing a response. Caitlyn could feel her hesitation like static in the air. For a moment, she thought VI might finally open up, but then…

“Nah,” she exhaled, chuckling, a sound too light to be real. “Other than her starin’ at me like I’m walking around topless.” The boxer's grin returned, tugging at the corner of her lips with effort. “Don’t worry, I’ve had worse than a dirty glare.”

Caitlyn didn’t answer at first. She just squeezed VI’s hand a little tighter.

She recognised that voice, recognised her trying to brush past something clearly bothering her. She used it when she was bleeding but didn’t want anyone to see. Caitlyn had learned to read the quiet between VI’s words just as well as the words themselves.

But she also knew pressing her now would only make VI shut down further. So instead, she softened.

“Alright, it’s decided, ” she declared, stepping closer, close enough that their foreheads nearly touched. “Time for a break!”

VI blinked. “A break?” she repeated. “I just got here.” 

The markswoman shook her head with a teasing smile. “I meant in general.” 

She turned, gliding over to a small polished table tucked by the windows. From a silver tray, she plucked a folded card and held it up like a trophy. “There’s a masquerade tonight. At the upper terrace. Lavish outfits. Masks. Champagne fountains. That kind of thing.”

VI made a face. “Rich people party.”

“Basically.” Caitlyn laughed. “Maybe, but it’s just an excuse to dress up, have a dance and get super drunk all the same.

She stepped back toward VI, her voice lowering with a rare note of shyness. “So… would you go with me?”

The request hung in the air like a glass ornament, delicate and sincere.

VI glanced toward the tall window behind her, where the golden edge of Piltover’s skyline was dimming into the bruised blue of early dusk. Her mind flashed back to the cold stare of Cassandra Kiramman. The weight of the words she’d slung like knives. Her hands clenched at her sides, just briefly. But then she looked back at Caitlyn: bright-eyed, smiling, waiting.

And it was as if it all just melted away.

“Man,” VI mused, rubbing the back of her neck, “I do love drinkin’ and dancin’. Not so sure about the whole mask thing, though.”

“I’ll help you with the mask if you help me with the dancing.” Caitlyn chuckled. “Deal?” she asked, tilting her head with a mischievous glint.

VI’s gaze lingered on her, on that familiar curve of her smile, the kindness in her eyes, the safety she didn’t know she needed so much until she found it. She leaned in, pressing a slow kiss to Caitlyn’s lips, and then pulled back with an almost bashful grin.

“Deal, Sugar.”

…

Music drifted through the air, a string quartet nested on a balcony above, their notes light and elegant, mixing with the laughter caught in the ballroom.

VI shifted on her feet as she stepped into the crowd, her frame dressed far more sharply than usual. A tailored black vest hugged her torso beneath a deep crimson suit jacket, lapels sleek, collar unbuttoned just enough to hint at her usual swagger. A matte-black half mask covered the upper half of her face, ornate but subtle, decorated in rouge accents.

Caitlyn, by contrast, looked like royalty reborn. Her gown was a deep sapphire blue, sleek and slit just high enough to be scandalous if she weren't, well, Caitlyn Kiramman. Her mask matched, feathered with silver accents that curled like smoke over her cheekbones. She moved with practised grace, nodding at diplomats, exchanging quiet hellos, but her hand never left VI’s arm. Proudly so.

The zaunite’s gaze drifted across the sweeping ballroom with its glittering chandeliers and crystal-dripping walls. The gowns shimmered like molten jewels, and every corner sparkled with curated glamour. She exhaled through her nose, lowering her voice so only her girlfriend could hear.

“The things people spend money on…” she muttered, tilting her head at a particularly gaudy centrepiece: an ice sculpture of a winged serpent surrounded by edible gold-dusted figs.

Caitlyn turned to face her, smiling slowly and knowingly, her sapphire eyes soft behind the mask. “Crazy, isn’t it?”

VI raised an unimpressed brow, taking another long glance around them. “Yer telling me. I’ve seen less glitter in Pow’s secret stash.” Caitlyn chuckled, then reached down and lifted VI’s hand in her own with careful grace. Her fingers, warm and assured, threaded between VI’s scarred knuckles. She held it up slightly, as if presenting a prize.

“But none of it matters,” she said quietly, her voice dipped in fondness. “I’m still the richest person here.”

VI raised her eyebrow, wondering if this was a brag or a slight. Not knowing how to respond, she gave an awkward smile and shallow exhale.

“Because I have you,” Caitlyn said simply.

The words landed like a drop of ink in clear water. The boxer flushed instantly beneath the edge of her dark mask, her freckled cheeks blooming red despite the room’s dazzling lights. Her bravado faltered just long enough for Caitlyn to smirk.

“C’mon, Sugar,” VI grumbled, lowering her gaze and scratching the back of her neck with her free hand. “I’m tryin’ to look cool here.”

The young Kiramman pulled the shorter woman closer, her breath tickling the edge of VI’s jaw, and whispered with playful mischief, “Oh, you’re most definitely failing, flower.”

“Shit, flower?” VI groaned, hand covering her reddened cheeks, but there was no venom in it. “I’m getting slaughtered out here.”

“Adorably, though,” She added, pulling back just enough to sip her wine with a smug little smirk tugging at her lips. VI grumbled something about ‘well played’ and tried very hard not to smile. Unsuccessfully. Before she could come up with a decent retort, a voice broke in from behind them.

“Pardon me, Lady Kiramman.”

They turned. A man in a cream-white tuxedo stood before them, clearly from one of the minor noble houses – recognisable, sure, but not important. Not to Caitlyn. His mask was gold and glittering, and the confidence with which he approached suggested he was used to getting what he wanted. His gaze flicked to VI, then dismissed her entirely.

“Would you honour me with a dance?” he asked Caitlyn, extending a hand.

“I already have a partner.” The sharpshooter dismissed the man without so much as a second thought. The man blinked, then looked to VI again, this time properly. His eyes narrowed, confused.

“I don’t see anyone around?” The noble searched the room, ignoring the woman, Caitlyn literally had her hand interlocked with. Her expression soured in an instant. She straightened, posture sharpening into something vaguely dangerous. “She’s my partner.”

“Who, her? I– I thought she was one of your maids, no?” He tilted his head at VI, genuinely perplexed. The pink-haired lady didn’t say anything at first. She just took a long breath, her body visibly relaxing, but only slightly. Then, with the air of someone absolutely done with decorum, she slid her arms out of her suit jacket and held it out toward the man.

“Sugar, dontcha’ think it’s time for a dance?” VI turned to ask Caitlyn, side eyeing the man. Caitlyn slipped her hand into VI’s arm, eyes gleaming with quiet pride. “I thought you’d never ask.”

With that, VI shrugged off her suit jacket, tossing it onto the bewildered bachelor as the two of them walked toward the centre of the ballroom. As they did, the quartet played on, their tempo graceful, precise. But when VI stepped onto the dance floor with Caitlyn on her arm, all that etiquette felt like a stage they were about to quietly set fire to.

The topsider turned to face her, one hand resting on VI’s shoulder, the other delicately held in VI’s toughened palm. For a moment, they were perfectly in step with the music, twirling gently between the gowns and polished shoes, spinning with careful poise. Characteristically so, Caitlyn moved stiffly at first, awkward in the measured formality of it all, but VI’s confidence made it easy to follow.

“Relax,” The boxer whispered, a smile curling under her mask. “It’s just us.”

“But it isn’t…” Caitlyn bashfully muttered, glancing at the sea of masked nobles watching from behind their champagne flutes like well-dressed gargoyles. “Feels like everyone’s gonna watch me embarrass myself.”

“Hey, hey. Where’s this coming from now?” VI spun them into another turn, pulling Caitlyn close to her chest. “Sugar, the only thing that matters is enjoying yourself. So, lemme ask you.”

VI then dipped her slightly. Just enough to catch her off guard, the two stared in awe at one another, lips slightly parted as they could feel one another’s pulses.

“Are you?”

“God, yes. So much so.”

And then the music shifted. The violinists struck a livelier rhythm, faster, deeper in the strings. The chatter along the edges of the room grew louder. 

Kiramman pressed closer, flush against VI’s body, her hand slipping lower around her waist. Their steps fell into something looser, more playful. No longer a waltz, but a tease. Caitlyn moved with fluid grace, letting her hips sway against VI’s body, the music guiding them with confident touches and close-held turns. VI, caught between bewilderment and thrill, found herself laughing, low and unfiltered, as she followed her lead.

The ballroom murmured.

There was a visible ripple in the crowd now, the kind of scandalised awe reserved for broken taboos. Whispers twisted between guests like smoke. The noble Kiramman, dancing shamelessly with a nobody in public? And not just dancing – writhing. Their hands were where they shouldn’t be, their bodies too close, the glint in Caitlyn’s eye downright sinful.

Then Caitlyn spun again, this time tugging VI by the lapels back into her, pressing their bodies close in a rhythm that was no longer about dancing, it was about claiming. The crowd around them could barely contain its discomfort, though a few of the younger onlookers were clearly entranced.

VI caught Caitlyn’s hand, twirling her once before pulling her close with surprising grace.

“You know,” VI said, voice low and eyes glittering beneath the edge of her mask, “this might actually be the most fun I’ve had in Piltover.”

She shifted closer, her grin crooked and teasing. “Well… other than the night before.”

Caitlyn choked on a laugh, cheeks flushing as she gave VI’s arm a light slap. “You’re unbelievable,” she chided, though her giggles betrayed no real disapproval.

VI only grinned wider, clearly proud of herself. “No, but, really,” her gaze lingered pointedly before she added, “I needed this. Thank you.”

Caitlyn’s heart fluttered as she took VI’s hand again, tracing it to her waist as the music shifted, slow, smooth, alluring. The couple melded into the rhythm of the dance floor, spinning together beneath the golden chandeliers. Around them, nobles floated in silk and velvet, some whispering behind fans, others stealing glances at the pair whose chemistry burned brighter than any candelabra.

As they twirled in step, Caitlyn pulled VI slightly closer, her voice barely above a murmur. “They’re all staring, you know.”

VI gave a breathless laugh, the sound warm against Caitlyn’s ear. “Let ‘em. I’ve got nothing to hide. Not when it comes to you.”

Their movements slowed, hands resting together at Caitlyn’s back and VI’s shoulder. The world narrowed to just the space between them. The music swelled gently, almost beckoning.

And then, without a word, Caitlyn stepped in closer. There was no hesitance in her touch as she slid her hand up VI’s arm, pausing at the shoulder before curling around the back of her neck, fingers threading into short, pink-streaked hair.

She pulled her in.

Caitlyn’s lips moved against hers with aching precision, lips parted just enough to draw a quiet gasp from VI, who gripped her tighter in response. One of the boxer's hands flattened against the small of Caitlyn’s back, the other pressing gently against her hip, drawing her in like gravity. VI tasted wine and warmth, but more than that, she tasted fire. A kind of burn that went straight through her bones.

The kiss landed hot and breath-stealing, a far cry from the soft, tentative gestures of stolen affection.

The crowd faded entirely. Voices hushed. Time slowed. All VI could feel was Caitlyn: the press of her mouth, the silk of her dress, the intoxicating heat radiating off her like a furnace under all that control.

By the time they finally broke apart, Caitlyn’s lipstick was slightly smudged, and VI was left breathless, blinking like she’d been hit by something heavy and sweet all at once.

“Neither do I.”

Chapter Text

—SIDE : FADED INDIGO—

[So quiet. She hated it.

Young Caitlyn Kiramman sat with her hands folded in her lap, legs swinging slightly off the edge of the chaise. Her slippers tapped nervously against the adorned edge, each tiny thud swallowed by the quiet.

So, so quiet.

Her mother hadn’t spoken to her since the incident at the fundraiser. Rather, since Caitlyn had ‘embarrassed the family’, as mother had put it.

She didn’t see what was so wrong. She never did. It wasn’t her fault that everyone else was wrong. Why couldn’t mother see it?

Why couldn’t anyone?

Nothing happened when they arrived at the estate. And nothing still, seated in the tall-backed armchair opposite her, sipping tea as if the room were empty.

“Mama?” Caitlyn’s voice cracked as it broke the heavy silence, fragile and uncertain; the room hushing even further at the sound, as though even the furniture braced for what might come next. “I said I was sorry.”

No reply.

Cassandra did not turn. Seated upright in the high-backed chair near the hearth, her gaze remained fixed on the grandfather clock ticking solemnly against the far wall. Its slow rhythm filled the space between them, relentless and uncaring. Her back was straight, her shoulders set, her every motion deliberate. With measured elegance, she lifted a delicate porcelain teacup and placed it into its saucer. The soft clink echoed like a verdict.

“How many times,” she spoke coldly, eyes refusing to meet her daughter’s, “have I warned you about that mouth of yours?” Delivered with precision, yet breaching the threshold of desperation did every syllable spit from her lips. Disappointment dressed in ice.

“But—” Caitlyn’s voice caught, and she quickly swallowed. “But I had to say something! He was a bad man!” Her words rushed out, driven by the fire she barely knew how to manage. Her brows furrowed with the fierce need to be understood, her voice teetering between the fierce convictions of a child and the sting of shame that followed her mother’s disapproval.

Still, Cassandra did not speak. She drew a slow, quiet breath and finally turned her head to regard her daughter. Her gaze, sharp and dispassionate, settled on the girl like a judgment. Caitlyn straightened under it, though her lower lip quivered slightly.

“Why is it wrong to care about what’s right?” she tried again, her voice rising, desperate for an answer. There was frustration – raw and bewildered and oh so childish in nature. 

Cassandra rose suddenly.

“Enough,” Cassandra demanded, her hand moving in one swift, abrupt motion to accentuate her words. “This conversation is over.” 

Instinctively, the small girl’s shoulders slumped downwards. Her breath hitched as her eyes followed her mother, who now moved across the room with quiet authority. Repression sizzling beneath her skin, her small fists clenched at her sides as her heart pounded.

“Why is it wrong to care about what’s right?”

“You are a Kiramman, Caitlyn.” 

Her mother’s voice sliced through the air without needing volume. She paused only to retrieve her gloves from the polished sideboard, sliding them on with the same meticulous grace she applied to everything. She did not look back, did not waver.

She opened the door.

“Remember that,”

And then she was gone.

Caitlyn sat alone in the silence that remained, the room colder than before. Her fists slowly loosened, but the question still hung in the air like smoke. 

The young Kiramman blinked hard against the sting in her eyes, but one tear slid down anyway. She wiped it quickly with the back of her hand. Her chest felt tight, full of questions and truths no one would answer. She sat back down and buried her face in the crook of her arm.]

—SIDE : RED—

VI’s eyes blinked open the moment she felt movement beside her. She’d always been a light sleeper, expecting to be woken up at any moment because of the monsters haunting her younger siblings’ dreams.

So, unsurprisingly, it took her all of three seconds to register the shape beside her, curled a little too tightly beneath the sheets. Caitlyn’s shoulders were hunched, her breath uneven, just the tiniest sniffle muffled against the pillow.

“Sugar?”

Softly, the name floated out in a soft rasp like the rays of sun peering through the curtain’s fabric. With no response, VI shifted upright slowly, careful not to startle her. When she leaned in, she caught it; the glimmer on Caitlyn’s cheek, just beneath her lashes. A tear.

“Hey…” VI whispered, instantly more alert. She reached out, brushing her fingers gently across Caitlyn’s face. “Hey, what’s wrong, sug'?”

Caitlyn tried to answer, but it came out as a shaky breath instead. She turned her face away, swiping at her cheek like she could erase the evidence before VI could see more.

But VI wasn’t going to let her hide.

Without hesitation, the brawler slipped her arms around her lover, pulling her close. She tucked Caitlyn into her chest, warm and steady, fingers combing through the long strands of glossy, indigo hair with a tenderness Caitlyn had grown familiar with. She wouldn’t press her to speak. But tell her she was there, even if it was without words.

After a moment, Caitlyn finally spoke, voice barely audible.

“I’m scared, VI.”

“Of what?” VI murmured, her voice low and tender, the breath of it brushing against Caitlyn’s temple like a promise not to leave. Caitlyn didn’t answer right away. Her lips parted, then closed again as if the words snagged on something sharp inside her, still too fragile to surface. Her eyes were distant, unfocused, tracing something invisible across the wall. 

“I’m scared I’ll mess this all up. For all of us. For all of you.” 

She finally whispered. Her voice cracked on the last word, a tremor laced with guilt and fear that she couldn’t quite disguise.

With no second thought in sight, VI drew Caitlyn in tighter, one arm firm around her waist, the other hand coming to rest gently between her shoulder blades. She pulled her close until there was no space between them, until Caitlyn could feel the steady beat of VI’s heart against her own racing one.

“Hey,” VI purred softly, “Hey, look at me.”

Caitlyn hesitated, then slowly tilted her face upward, along VI’s taut hold of her chin, lashes fluttering with the effort to hold back emotion. Her eyes were wide, glimmering, her breath unsteady.

“Nothing is gonna get messed up,” VI stated, her voice unwavering, like steel, “Y’know why?”

She drew back just enough to meet the markswoman’s eyes, her expression softening with fierce affection. Her hand found Caitlyn’s cheek again, rough-knuckled fingers trailing gently along her jawline, grounding her with a touch that spoke more than words ever could.

“Because, by Janna, you are, single-handedly, the smartest, most stubborn, and most impossibly loving person I’ve ever met.”

Caitlyn’s breath hitched as she fought the rising wave of emotion, eyes tearing, and her shoulders tensed – trying to contain everything pressing against her chest.

Like that, VI leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Caitlyn’s forehead; slow, deliberate and full of reverence. A vow. A promise in the belief VI held in her.

“And they’re terrified of that. Of your, of our, unbreakable conviction.”

Something cracked open. Caitlyn pressed her face against VI’s collarbone and let the tears come. Gingerly, VI placed her hand on the back of Caitlyn’s head, letting her bury herself into the crook of her neck as she sniffled. Caitlyn typically despised pity or being seen as incapable. But that wasn’t what this was. 

…VI’s support, it felt like it was keeping her afloat. Not drowning her.

—SIDE : ROYAL BLUE—

Cassandra stood by the mantel, arms crossed tightly over her chest, her posture rigid in that way that meant her thoughts had begun to race too fast to contain. She exhaled sharply, but it wasn’t with relief.  

“Why…. Why out of everyone she could’ve picked,” she muttered, mostly to the air, though her voice carried toward the man seated in the armchair nearby. “She’s chosen to get herself enamoured with these two… specimens”

Tobias didn’t lift his eyes immediately. He sat with a tumbler of whiskey resting in his hand, his gaze fixed on the amber swirl within it. He’d been listening; he’d learned long ago to let his wife speak first. To let her release the pressure before trying to guide it.

“She always had issues with authority,” he murmured at last, glancing up at her. “Not so much unlike you.” He knew to whisper that last part. Cassandra arched a sharp brow, though the corner of her mouth twitched. “That is not helping.”

“She’s got a good heart,” Tobias added before she could interject again. “And I know that good hearts can be reckless. But they also keep the world spinning.”

The stately matriarch turned from the fire, pacing a few steps before halting. Her jaw clenched, her voice thinner now, less frustrated, more worn. 

“A good heart won’t protect her if someone chooses to put a knife in her back,” she hissed quietly. “It won’t save her if she steps on the wrong toes and ends up throwing her life away for a cause she barely understands. We won’t always be here, Tobias.” Raw, tired fear. Cassandra Kiramman stood there, not as a noble; a mother whose ambition had always bent toward a single point.

“I have spent my entire life building something for her,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper now. “Every alliance, decision and compromise I swallowed. That foundation was for her. And she keeps charging into it headfirst like it’s nothing.”

Her husband rose slowly, the floor creaking beneath his deliberate steps. He crossed the space to her without a word, then gently rested his hands on her arms. His grip was firm, grounding. She looked up at him, eyes glinting with a sheen she didn’t let fall.

“Cassandra, you’ve raised her to stand on her own convictions. Our girl walks into fire not because she doesn’t know better, but because she does.” As he spoke, his fingers reached up and gently tucked a loose strand of Cassandra’s dark hair behind her ear. The motion was careful, reverent. Familiar.

Cassandra exhaled, slow and quiet. She shook her head once, not with disagreement, but with that reluctant kind of doubt that’s more fear than disbelief. And yet, she didn’t move away. She stayed within the circle of his presence, letting his warmth steady her.

“She’s still just a girl.”

“She’s your daughter. Your blood runs in her veins.”

Cassandra leaned forward, resting her brow briefly against Tobias’s shoulder, just long enough to breathe.

“She exhausts me,” she murmured into the fabric of his coat, her voice barely audible, brittle with fatigue. A quiet chuckle rumbled in his chest as his arm slid around her back, steady and sure. 

“That’s how you know she’s yours.”

—SIDE : INDIGO—

The soft creak of the door was enough to alert Jinx before they even stepped inside.

She sat cross-legged atop the scattered blueprints on her bedroom floor, hair messier than usual, a smudge of oil streaked across one cheek. 

VI was the first to speak. Always was.

“Hey, Pow,” Called her voice warmly as she leaned against the doorframe. “How we feelin’?”

Jinx gave a half-hearted shrug, eyes flicking toward the floor. 

Caitlyn approached with measured care, her boots soft against the dusty floor. Her gloved hands were clasped neatly in front of her, the gesture restrained, almost diplomatic—like she wasn’t sure if she was entering enemy territory or something more fragile.

“We just wanted to check in. Thought you’d still be asleep, haha.” The sharpshooter attempted a gentle jest, but her own giggle was the only sound in the room.

Jinx, who had been slouched with her knees pulled to her chest, looked up sharply. Her gaze, bright and piercing, locked onto Caitlyn’s with a wary edge. She blinked once, slowly.

“Is this about the council thing?” she prodded, her tone neutral, but her eyes flickered with something unreadable.

“The council?” Caitlyn echoed, blinking in confusion. Her brows drew together slightly.
 We never did get around to telling her. Did she overhear us?

Before Caitlyn could gather a proper response, Jinx leaned forward abruptly, her expression strangely blank – almost too still, for someone like her.

“I want to go,” she murmured. “I wanna help you guys.”

Caitlyn’s posture shifted subtly. Her eyes searched Jinx’s face, not with doubt, but with careful thought, as though trying to see past the calm mask to the storm she suspected was still brewing underneath.

Just then, VI stepped forward from her spot against the wall, voice cutting through the tension like a blade, not cruel, but unmistakably protective.

“No, it’s nothing you need to worry about,” VI interjected firmly, her arms crossing over her chest. 

Almost instantaneously, the two sisters seemed to enter a silent yet equally stubborn deadlock, their eyes doing their best not to betray the desperation in either of their stances. VI would always, whether physically and emotionally, place herself between Powder and whatever came next.

Powder wanted to do the same.

The Young Kiramman squinted as her gaze darted between the two. There was an inordinate amount of money she’d give to be able to read their wordless conversations like this. 

Though after a while, her eyes fell to the parchment-strewn floor, noticing the intricate drawings that lay sprawled in ink and graphite. Sketches of teeth. Chambers. Gears and fireworks. 

“What’s this?” she intrigued, crouching down curiously to take a closer look.

“She’s called Fishbones,” Jinx dragged her abashed gaze from her sister, quickly morphing into pride as she looked at her creation, sitting up a little straighter. “It’s one of those fireworks things! But, you know... better.”

“It’s honestly… pretty stunning.” Caitlyn gave a soft chuckle, her fingers brushing over one of the cleaner pages.

VI’s gaze lingered on the blueprints for a beat, then she clapped her hands together.

“Welp! Looks like you’re gonna need parts for that thing. How ‘bout you two hit the market, see what’s out there.” Her gaze then returned pointedly to her little sister. ”Get some air.”

“Now? Shouldn’t we be preparing more for the meeting?” Caitlyn looked up at her, puzzled. Casually, the shorter woman threw an arm around the taller’s shoulder and bumped their foreheads together. “You’ve done most of the prep. It’s only fair I handle the rest.”

She then turned toward Powder once more, who was watching them with a spark of hope returning to her expression.  “What do you think, baby blue? Feel like a little shopping run?”

For a moment, Jinx said nothing. Then, slowly, the grin returned.

“Uh, duh!”

…

“Alright, we need wiring, copper tubing, phosphorus, pressure valve replacements, and—”

As Caitlyn muttered to herself through Jinx’s chicken scratch notes, the teenager’s gaze drifted toward a small tray of sparkstone fuses, glittering like candy under the flickering fluorescents. Without so much as a glance, her hand darted out – quick as sleight-of-hand – and two vanished into the folds of her coat.

“Jinx.” Caitlyn’s voice cut through the din, low and sharp.

The powder-haired girl froze, her hand still near the tray. Slowly, she turned, eyes wide but not apologetic. More mildly inconvenienced than anything.

“We don’t need to steal,” Caitlyn chided, her brows drawn into a disapproving arch. She stepped closer, keeping her voice hushed. “We have the money.”

“Please, it’s not like they need it,” The ex-convict muttered, lips curling in a half-snarl. Withdrawing her hand fully from her coat, she rolled her eyes and scoffed. 

Caitlyn inhaled deeply, pausing long enough to collect herself before responding. She studied the rogue girl’s expression – not anger, truly. Just habit. Old instincts twitching like muscles trained in a cage.

“You don’t know that,” Caitlyn reasoned gently, her voice more thoughtful than scolding. “That fuse? Might be a week’s worth of earnings for the person running this booth. Not everyone up here is easily well off, you know?”

Jinx glanced away, jaw tightening. For a second, she looked ten years younger in her wounded and confused look.

“Whatever,” she mumbled. Still, she reached into her coat and dropped the fuses back onto the tray with a clink, the sound louder than it needed to be. She crossed her arms and turned away with a huff, storming down the path toward the next stall. Caitlyn followed, catching up beside her with long, patient strides.

Trying to break the tension, she nodded toward a glimmering storefront just across the square. Its curved windows were frosted with gold filigree. Soft music and warm light drifted through the doorway like a dream.

A spa!

“Why don’t we take a break?” Caitlyn suggested, her voice adopting that crisp, airy tone she used when trying not to sound like she was managing a situation. “Even though, technically, this was also a break.”

Jinx stopped mid-stride, boots scuffing slightly on the pavement as her head snapped up. She tilted her chin, suspicious as a stray dog catching a whiff of something unfamiliar.

“Is that a soap store, or something?” she asked flatly, eyeing the building across the street with narrowed eyes.

“A spa,” Caitlyn corrected gently, allowing a small smile to curve her lips. “Massages. Face masks. Hair masks. Honestly, a concerning amount of masks, if I’m being honest.”

Jinx turned fully now, her expression unreadable but not hostile. That brief peek of curiosity, one that made her seem startlingly young, lit up behind the ever-watchful glint in her eyes. She stared at the building like it had dared her to enter, then let her gaze trail slowly along the gold-lettered writing on the frosted glass windows.

She read aloud, more to herself than anyone else. “Nail paint… I can make my nails—”

“Blue? Yep!” Caitlyn jumped in, a little too eagerly. The topsider’s voice carried the smug tone of someone who believed, for a moment, that they’d cracked the code to a difficult puzzle. Her pride was short-lived.

Jinx's face twisted into a look of exaggerated offence, the unimpressed arch of her brow sharp enough to cut. “I was gonna say pink. I hate blue,” she deadpanned, the corner of her mouth twitching upward in a teasing smirk.

“Oh. Obviously,” Caitlyn replied, her voice dry as sand. A breath of humour slipped into the moment, cracking the shell of tension that had hung between them like a fog.

The powder-haired troublemaker hesitated at the curb, rocking on her heels as if weighing the risk of stepping into unknown territory. It was a place where people touched your face on purpose and expected you to sit still while they did it.

But then, she moved.

Slowly, reluctantly, she began walking toward the glowing doorway of the spa, hands buried in her pockets, expression neutral save for the curiosity that tugged at the corners of her eyes.

Caitlyn exhaled softly, the sound somewhere between a sigh and a chuckle. She fell into step beside the girl, the click of her boots a gentle contrast to Jinx’s lazy shuffle. Her smile lingered, just long enough to catch the faintest, begrudging twitch at the corner of Jinx’s mouth.

“Alright, fancy pants,” she muttered under her breath, slanting a sideways glance at the prim officer beside her. “Show me what kind of weird nonsense is in your world.”

—SIDE : BROWN—

Zaun’s air was much heavier than Piltover’s. 

VI inhaled it like home.

Rounding the corner of an old processing station, she spotted a thick curtain of steam billowing out of a corner stall. The familiar clink of glass, the low scrape of a stool being pulled back.

And there was Sevika.

The older woman leaned back in a chair too fragile for her bulk, one mechanical arm resting on the table beside a bottle and a half-smoked cigar. She raised an eyebrow as VI approached, her single eye glinting through the haze.

“Aw, damn,” Sevika drawled, flicking ash from her cigar with a bored thumb. “Was hopin’ topside would’ve kept you longer.”

VI smirked, slipping into the chair across from her with practised ease. “Miss me already?”

“Only thing I miss is my peace and quiet,” Sevika retorted. “And maybe the good whiskey you sneak in sometimes.”

“Oh, Sevika, how you devastate me,” VI declared with exaggerated flair, clutching her chest as if struck by heartbreak. She tipped her head back in mock anguish, voice dripping with faux drama.

The one-armed bruiser gave a chickle, dry but genuine. Her metal fingers were tapping idly against her mug, but then, her eye narrowed, concerned, as her tone shifted.

“Really, though. You’re back early.” She leaned in slightly, her voice level but edged with just enough weight to make the question clear. “Things didn’t go sideways, did they?”

“Ye of such little faith,” VI drawled, waving a hand through the air like she was swatting away the idea itself. “Things are going superbly. We even managed to get a council meeting. Beat that, Silco.”

Sevika wasn’t convinced, nor necessarily impressed. VI wasn’t sure whether to be offended to worried about her blatant non-reaction to what she herself considered a pretty big leap. The former lieutenant tilted her head, elbow coming to rest on the dented bar table as she studied VI beneath a furrowed brow. The movement was casual, but there was a keen stillness to her. 

“Then what gives?” she pressed, voice quieter now, less accusatory and more...curious. 

The pink-haired woman hesitated. Just for a breath. The playful deflection in her posture eased, replaced by a more tempered stillness. She reached for a half-finished drink, more out of habit than thirst, and swirled the liquid with a slow rotation of her wrist.

Then, ex-mafioso’s gaze softened, ever so slightly.

“Guess I can’t hide nothin’ from you,” VI admitted with a lopsided grin. Her fingers drifted to the back of her neck, scratching absently at the nape like a schoolkid caught mid-lie. “It’s not about the meeting, per se. It’s Cait and Pow… they’ve been goin’ through a lot and...”

Her voice trailed off, the grin dimming into something more earnest.

“So I figured I’d do somethin’ to lift their spirits, y’know?” she added, tone quieter now.

A pause settled over the air, filled only by the faint hiss and clatter of a steam pipe groaning behind the counter. Across the table, Sevika leaned back in her chair with a slow grace. Her mechanical arm groaned softly as she moved, the servos whining faintly while she reclaimed her drink with her remaining hand.

“Talk about gone soft,” the grizzled veteran muttered, lifting the glass to her lips with the air of someone diagnosing a problem. There was no bite to the words – just observation, jest and maybe even a bit of projection. 

“I prefer emotionally balanced. Personal growth, all that.” VI tilted her head indignantly. 

Sevika huffed out a snort, the corners of her mouth twitching despite herself. “You’re funny.”

“I get that a lot,” VI replied with a smirk, arching one brow as though she’d just received an award. The boxer preened theatrically, spreading her arms like she was waiting for applause.

Sevika rolled her eyes, but the reluctant amusement lingered. She took another slow sip of her drink, letting it swirl between her fingers before setting the glass down with a dull clink.

“Alright,” she relented at last, her tone gruff but not unkind. “Anyhow, I’m guessing you need my help?”

The only response VI gave to that was a knowing, shit eating grin, wide as the horizons stretched.

—SIDE : BLUE—

Caitlyn and Jinx stood on the cusp of defeat. Their satchels were empty, the afternoon spent disappearing into beauty salons and boutiques, none of the scavenged copper tubing or wiring for Fishbones. Exhausted, they admitted defeat.

Don’t get them wrong, they looked gorgeous. Undeniably so. Their faces, particularly Jinx’s, shimmered like the aftermath of a glitter bomb. Pink, gold, electric violet, smeared and dabbed and streaked across their skin with gleeful abandon. It hugged their cheekbones, coated their eyelids, and scattered down her neck.

Their nails were miniature murals – ten tiny showcases of opposites. Caitlyn’s were elegant and methodical, painted in shades of royal navy and soft silver, her fingers moving with the grace of a woman used to precision. Jinx’s, meanwhile, were anarchy incarnate. Every nail bore a different design. They shouldn't have worked. And yet, somehow, they did.

Jinx’s signature braids had been reimagined into twin heart shapes that sat high on either side of her head, bouncing with every smug tilt and over-exaggerated eye roll. Meanwhile, Caitlyn’s hair had been sculpted into a sleek, glistening bun, so smooth and reflective it looked like it had been polished by hand. A single ornate pin held it in place, glinting with every subtle movement like a star caught in silk.

And their skin, by Janna, their skin felt like liquid satin. After hours of soaking in steaming baths, being scrubbed raw, pampered, and slathered in creams that probably cost more than the teenager’s entire existence, they were glowing.

They had also failed to retrieve anything on their list. Their non-existent attention spans were so easily captured by the bright lights and pretty colours.

"Let’s call it a day," Caitlyn murmured at last, her voice soft and worn at the edges. One gloved hand rested on the floor beside her, fingers splayed against the cool stone, while the other absentmindedly twisted a stray lock of hair in her fatigue. Her usually pristine posture had loosened, spine curved slightly as the day’s weight settled into her shoulders.

Besides her, the teenage ex-con hunched over, elbows on her knees, absently scraping at the chipped polish on her nails with the corner of one jagged fingertip, dulled by the drag of disappointment.

"Wow. Never thought beauty would get in the way of rocket science," she muttered, her voice raspy and, frankly, exhausted. The faintest pout tugged at her lips, though it didn’t quite reach full rebellion.

Caitlyn tilted her head, watching the younger girl with a faint, amused hum, but didn’t immediately challenge her. There was something almost endearing about the sulk in Jinx’s expression; the mad genius thwarted by glitter and scented lotion.

But the pity party was short-lived.

A sudden boom rattled the quiet evening air. 

Caitlyn snapped upright, hand instinctively reaching toward her sidearm before remembering she wasn’t wearing it. Her eyes darted to Jinx, who had already risen into a crouch, head tilted like a dog catching a scent. 

“A bomb?” Caitlyn asked, breath shallow with caution.

But Jinx’s ears twitched, and then her eyes lit up with childlike recognition. “Nope,” she breathed, grin stretching wide. “Fireworks.”

Before Caitlyn could respond, the wild thing was already grabbing her by the wrist with alarming strength, hauling the stunned sharpshooter to her feet.

“Come on, Caitie!” Jinx cackled, sprinting toward the light like a moth possessed.

Their feet slapped against pavement as they followed the narrow path through overgrown brush and twisted railings, the air salty and crisp the closer they got. Caitlyn barely had time to catch her breath before they burst through a curtain of hanging ivy and onto a forgotten beach harbour, half-wrecked by time yet still kissed by tide.

And then the lights flared. A loud cheer rose from the shadows; from them emerged a group of familiar silhouettes.

Vi, already waving a sparkler like a sword, Ekko, trying his hardest to pretend like he was too cool for it all whilst perched atop some old crates, and Sevika leaned against a broken post, nursing something dark in a glass and pretending she wasn’t smiling.

“Surprise!” Vi shouted over the next firework’s screech, arms flung out wide like she’d conjured the entire celebration herself. Jinx blinked, stunned for once, her mouth parting slightly. Then she shrieked with delight.

“Vi!” The teenager’s voice cracked the air like a whip of disbelief and excitement as she barreled across the sand. Her boots kicked up fine sprays of grit with each bounding step. “You had fireworks all along? You were holding out on me?!”

The older brawler turned, her grin stretching into something wickedly satisfied as she held up a slightly dented launcher like a trophy.

“Hey, cut me some slack, I just found these!” Vi called back as she fumbled clumsily with the firework, pretending to struggle as she tilted her head with mock defeat. “Anywho, I was thinkin’, I might need your expert touch on this one. It’s being real stubborn.”

Jinx’s glitter-shadowed eyes lit up beneath her bangs, shimmering with that barely-contained electricity she wore so well. Something wild and wide and utterly childlike sparked behind her lashes, flickering like a live wire. She rocked forward on the balls of her feet, hands twitching near her sides, fidgeting, hesitant. Her gaze flitted from the firework launcher to Vi’s expectant grin, and then down to her own painted fingertips.

Why am I hesitating!? C’mon, I’ll make her proud!!

She inhaled sharply, as if gulping down her doubt, and then burst forward with a bark of exaggerated bravado. “Well, duh! Of course I can!”

Without missing another beat, the powder-haired menace surged ahead, her boots kicking up stray sand as she closed the gap in an instant. She nearly bowled Vi over in her enthusiasm. There was no hesitation now, no second-guessing – just the glow of pride burning in her chest. A grin split across her face. 

This was very serious, as you could see.

Dropping into a crouch, her small, calloused fingers got to work; there was no hesitation now. More than anything, she made sure (absolutely sure) to keep the entire show in Vi’s line of sight.

“Vi, look!” she crowed over her shoulder, her voice high and breathless with excitement. “I’m doing it!”

From behind, the boxer folded her arms and leaned back slightly, watching the chaos incarnate in front of her with no small amount of fondness. A laugh rumbled from her throat. 

“That you are,” She replied with a wink, her voice soft despite the noise. “I call you Pow for a reason.”

HISS

A sudden shriek tore through the air as the firework launched upward, trailing a streak of molten light. The sky answered moments later, the explosion bathing the scene below in various thunderclaps of colour.

Jinx tilted her head back and stared, utterly still as the sky shimmered above her. Her eyes were wide, reflecting the fireworks like glass orbs; full of wonder, mischief, and maybe something softer.

Behind her, Vi stood with her arms loosely folded, shoulders relaxed. The explosion of colour overhead reflected in her eyes, but it was not the firework that held her focus. It was the blur of blue braids and wild laughter dancing in its glow, the sight of her sister looking happy, even if just for tonight. A quiet warmth bloomed in her chest.

Suddenly, a soft rustle in the sand pulled her back to the moment. She didn’t need to look to know who it was. The scent of lavender and gun oil, faint and familiar, told her before the brush of an arm ever did.

Caitlyn had drawn up beside her, her steps gentle, her presence effortless. The sharpshooter’s cheeks were touched with the pink of exertion, or maybe it was the blush of candlelight spilling from the nearby lanterns. Her eyes, always watchful, now sparkled with something softer as they reflected the bursts of turquoise and gold above.

Their arms touched, barely at first, and then Caitlyn leaned in just enough to close the gap. Vi let her fingers shift, her hand turning palm-up in silent invitation. Caitlyn's gloved hand found hers, their fingers fitting together effortlessly. 

A quiet tether.

—SIDE : INDIGO—

“What is all this?” Caitlyn questioned, her voice curious with an edge of stunned laughter. She glanced up at her partner with that half-smile she found herself using more within these recent months than her entire life.

VI didn’t answer immediately. Her eyes remained on Jinx, who was currently launching another firework with childlike glee, her laughter echoing across the harbour. She looked so alive, her heart-shaped braids bouncing like punctuation against the canvas of night.

Then she exhaled, a breath drawn slowly from the depths of her chest.

“I just... I wanted to give everyone a reason to celebrate. Not panic. Not brace for something awful. Something good. Something that feels like hope.” She turned at last, facing the woman at her side, and her eyes softened in a way Caitlyn could look at forever. 

“And none of this would’ve been possible without you. You deserve to celebrate the most.”

The young Kiramman blinked, momentarily stunned. Her breath caught, and whatever witty reply she'd half-formed vanished under the weight of those words. The starry night above cast shadows that fell across her lashes as she looked at VI, visibly moved. A beat passed, then another, and her voice came quieter now – raw, honest. 

“I love my family. I do,” 

Caitlyn began, her gloved fingers tightening slightly in VI’s. 

“But… sometimes I can’t help but feel like we aren’t from the same puzzle. You know? I always felt like I was wrong. Not just them, everyone….” She trailed off, shaking her head, the corner of her mouth twitching bitterly. “Jayce was probably my only true friend in the whole of Piltover.”

Her gaze lifted slowly, the sharpshooter’s blue eyes glimmering with unshed emotion as they locked onto VI’s. “And then you all came in like a damn tsunami,” Caitlyn breathed, her voice tremulous, but steadying. “Crude. Abrasive. Infuriating... and yet…”

She swallowed hard, the words catching somewhere between her throat and heart. “You made me feel like I belonged. Like I was almost... good enough to be part of your family.”

“You are, Caitlyn. You are our family.” VI interjected gently, her voice low and absolute – vow woven into stone.

At that, Caitlyn’s lips parted. Her breath hitched. The tears didn’t fall, but they shimmered in her lashes like they might. And then she surged forward, cradling VI’s cheeks with her hands, her mouth finding hers in a kiss that said everything she hadn’t managed to articulate. In tune, VI’s strong arms found themselves comfortably curling around Caitlyn’s waist like – fragile and fiercely held. She pulled her closer, anchoring them together as fireworks continued to thunder above.

When they finally broke apart, their breaths mingling in the quiet space between them, VI’s mouth curled into a sinister grin. She reached up and brushed a calloused thumb beneath Caitlyn’s eye, only to pause and let out a short, amused huff.

“Damn, sugar. You are covered in glitter,” the pink-haired woman teased, eyes dancing with amusement. 

Caitlyn let out a soft laugh and placed a gloved finger gently over VI’s lips. “Shhhut up,” she whispered playfully, a teasing glint in her eye. VI arched a brow but leaned into her touch, the corner of her mouth tugging upward again as she looked at her partner with the utmost adoration she could muster.

“Happy Progress Day, Sugar.”

TWO HOURS UNTIL COUNCIL DEBUT.

Chapter Text

—SIDE : FADED BLUE—

[“Nighttime is my favourite…”

Caitlyn and Jinx lay shoulder to shoulder on the grassy bank, the wind gently licking at their faces with every lazy breeze. Above them, the night sky stretched endlessly, painted in inky black and deep indigo, speckled with countless stars that shimmered akin to diamonds across velvet.

Jinx lay back first, her hands tucked behind her head, twin braids splayed out. Her powder blue eyes followed a shooting star streaking across the heavens before fading into the abyss. A contented sigh escaped her lips, carrying an uncharacteristic tranquillity.

Caitlyn turned her head, one brow arched delicately, her gaze drawn to Jinx’s unguarded profile lit by the pale glow of the moon. 

“Your favourite? But, there’s not much to do at night, is there?” she inquired, voice curious, like a question wrapped in silk. 

“Maybe, but…” Jinx didn’t answer right away. Her eyes darted from constellation to constellation, lips twitching as if she were fighting an old memory. When she spoke, her voice was quieter, carrying a weight Caitlyn rarely heard from her. 

“Nighttime was the last time I saw them,” she confessed, eyes still fixed on the sky as though it held the answer to everything. Her fingers flexed against the wood, restless, as her gaze lingered on a cluster of stars blinking faintly in the distance. 

“Before I was taken… I think it was the best night of my life. 

Maybe still is.” 

Fragile and aching, her words hung in the air while the heavens above blinked indifferently. Caitlyn’s heart clenched. 

Slowly, Caitlyn reached out, her gloved hand hesitating in the air before she curled one pinky toward Jinx. Her voice was quiet, a steady warmth in the cool night breeze. 

“I’ll help you find them again. No matter how many nights it takes, I’ll bring you back to them.”

For a heartbeat, Jinx didn’t move. Then her gaze shifted, the sharp edges in her expression softening as a small, almost fragile smile tugged at her lips. She hooked her pinky with Caitlyn’s, locking it tight: a secret pact under the cosmic canopy.

“That a promise?”

“I promise.”]

—SIDE : PURPLE—

“Prepare to eat SHIT, losers!”

Jinx sat precariously atop Caitlyn’s shoulders, a manic grin tugging at her lips – barely holding back laughter that could shatter the calm sea air. Her bandaged arms were held aloft in mock defence. Every so often, she patted Caitlyn’s damp hair, steering the bemused woman through the ankle-deep, algae-slick water with the grace of a drunken captain commanding her ship. 

Across from them, Ekko crouched low on VI’s broad shoulders, his balance perfect despite the shifting waves below. The boy genius wore a fox-like grin; sharp and unyielding, eyes gleaming with mischief beneath his swaying dreads. VI stood planted beneath him, a tower of muscle and grit, her boots firmly rooted in the mud, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth as she watched the standoff unfold.

“You’re goin’ down, little man!” Jinx bellowed, her voice cracking with feral delight. The words ricocheted off the rusting hulls of abandoned ships, a declaration of playful war that might’ve been far too big for her wiry frame. If she were anyone else, of course.

“You’re the little one now, Pow-Pow!” Ekko barked a laugh, leaning forward, eyes blazing with mock superiority. His feet dug into VI’s shoulders, ready to spring, like he already knew he had the upper hand.

Oh, it was on.

VI braced her feet, water swirling around her calves as she called out, 

“Ekko, buddy, you ready to hold the line?” Her smirk was wolfish, her pink hair plastered damply against her neck. Ekko grinned, leaning down to whisper conspiratorially, “Let’s make this quick. She’s got no chance.”

That was all the invitation Jinx needed. With a screeching war cry, she lunged, throwing her full, wiry weight toward Ekko. The two collided with a messy splash, arms flailing, legs kicking in the ankle-deep water as they wrestled for dominance. Caitlyn desperately fumbled to keep her balance with an exasperated shake of her head. As her lips twitched to fight back a smile, VI’s laughter boomed across the harbour, proud and raucous.

“Gonna let a little guy like him take you down, Pow?” The brawler teased, hands on her hips as she watched with a very apparent glee.

“Over my dead body!” Jinx howled back, grabbing at Ekko’s arm in a playful chokehold while the boy twisted free and dunked her head under for a second. When she resurfaced, her hair clinging to her face like blue seaweed.

Whilst their battle waged, Sevika reclined on a discarded tanning bed that someone had scavenged from gods-know-where. Her mechanical arm was folded lazily across her stomach, a cigar smouldering between two fingers of her good hand. The sky above was grey and listless, the sun long lost behind a veil of clouds, but she acted as though she were basking on a luxury resort deck. Might as well, right?

VI, upon spotting the peaceful moment, grinned wickedly. With no warning, she used a spare hand to send a wave of cold water cascading over Sevika’s legs. The older woman bolted upright with a vicious glare, cigar clinging stubbornly to her lip.

Sevika lurched upright with a guttural curse, her mechanical arm whirring angrily as she sat bolt straight. Her cigar, stubborn as its owner, clung to her lips despite the sudden drenching. She levelled VI with a glare sharp enough to peel paint off the abandoned ship hulls. 

“You got a death wish, brat?” she growled.

“Relax! Just makin’ sure you don’t rust out here!” She flashed a teasing wink, though internally relieved she was out of Sevika’s retaliation zone. “’ 'Sides, you’d miss me way too much to kill me.

“Yeah, yeah.” Sevika snorted, shaking her head, a faint and reluctant curl of amusement tugging at her mouth despite herself. She reclined back into the rickety chair with deliberate slowness, muttering darkly around the cigar. 

“Okay, new plan!” 

Jinx’s voice tore through the salt-scented air like a war cry. Her wild grin signalled most probable danger for all those nearby. 

But, unfortunately for her, Caitlyn wasn’t fully accustomed to these signs, yet. 

Before she could even register the shift in weight on her shoulders, the teenager was already springing upward like a loose cannonball. She used Caitlyn’s shoulders as leverage, shoving herself off with both boots and sending the prim and proper woman stumbling backwards into the waist-high water with a startled yelp.

“JINX! WHAT THE BLOODY HECK?!” Caitlyn shrieked, arms flailing to steady herself as the water splashed all around them.

Blissfully unaware, Jinx soared through the air with a gleeful whoop, limbs splayed like a cat, mid-pounce. She landed squarely on Ekko with a splash loud enough to startle the resting gulls on the broken pier. The boy barely had time to gasp before the blue-haired menace had him locked in a mock chokehold, cackling as she wrestled him off VI’s shoulders and into the shallows.

“You’re mine now!” Jinx howled triumphantly, dunking Ekko halfway under before he twisted free, sending up a sheet of water in retaliation. The two devolved into a chaotic mess of splashes, limbs, and taunts, each trying to gain the upper hand.

Then, without warning, a sudden sharp jet of water hit them both square in the backs. They froze, sputtering, and slowly turned in unison.

Standing on the edge of the harbour, Caitlyn loomed like an avenging angel of justice – albeit less graceful and more soaked – with a neon-blue water gun poised in her hands like a sniper rifle. Her blue eyes narrowed to slits of mock fury as she pumped the handle with deliberate menace.

“Oh, no…” Ekko muttered, taking a cautious step back.

“Oh, yes,” Caitlyn countered with deadly calm before unleashing another high-powered stream straight at them. The two shrieked and scattered like startled bugs, splashing through the shallows in a desperate bid for cover.

“Oh, I am NOT missing this!” she bellowed, scooping up a half-broken bucket to join the assault. VI threw her head back and laughed, already wading after Caitlyn with long strides.

“Traitorous sister!” Jinx yelped over her shoulder, dragging Ekko along with her as Caitlyn charged after them with relentless precision – VI hot on her heels. The whole harbour erupted into chaos and laughter. 

…

By the time the sun had dipped low behind the fractured skyline, water pooled everywhere, dripping from rusted crane arms, forming rivulets down the sides of abandoned cargo containers. Everyone was drenched to the bone, hair plastered to their faces, clothes sticking like second skin.

VI, with a rough, half-clean rag in her hands, tried (mostly failing) to wring some of the water out of Jinx’s tangled braids. The smaller girl sat cross-legged on the dock beside her, giggling uncontrollably, shoulders shaking with leftover adrenaline. Ekko rested comfortably with his head in her lap, equally bursting with laughter after the fact.

“Did you see her face?!” Jinx hollered between bouts of laughter, throwing her arms wide in emphasis. “Caitie didn’t know what hit her!”

Ekko snorted, his voice hoarse from all the shouting. “Oh yeah, we owned that match. Best ambush in history.” He raised his palm toward Jinx, and they slapped a sloppy, water-slick high five that sent droplets spraying.

“‘Owned it’ is a weird way to say you guys lost horrifically.” VI let out a snicker, shaking her head as she tousled Jinx’s dripping hair. 

“Lies and slander!” Jinx declared, throwing her hands up theatrically, nearly knocking the rag from VI’s grip. 

“We merely conducted a tactical retreat. Big difference.” Ekko added in defence.

“Ah, obviously.” VI teased, giving the younger two’s heads a fond, rough pat. Before Jinx could fire back with another loud, ridiculous claim of victory, a low, deliberate clunk of boots on wood made the trio glance up. Sevika was strolling past, cigar clenched between her teeth, looking every bit like she’d stepped out of a warzone instead of a sunless afternoon nap. She barely spared them a glance, lifting her hand briefly in acknowledgement as she went on her way. 

Jinx was about to crack a joke, but she noticed how Ekko’s grin faltered, the laughter draining from his face like water through a sieve. He ducked his head, fiddling with the hem of his soaked shirt, suddenly quiet.

“Hey, what’s crawlin’ up your gears?” she drawled, her usual lilt tempered by genuine wonder. Her eyes scanned his face like she was reading blueprints for a machine on the verge of breaking down.

Ekko shook his head a little too fast, a sharp breath huffing out of him as if the question itself were irritating. “Nothin’,” he muttered, voice rough and clipped. He picked at a loose plank buried in the sand and pebbles – avoiding her stare like it burned.

“Uh-huh… I know those faces. C’mon, what gives?” Jinx’s tone softened, but there was still that restless, jagged edge to it, one that meant she wouldn’t let it slide. She scooted an inch closer, knees knocking his, her words low, yet insistent. 

“Just… drop it, Jinx.” Ekko’s jaw tightened; the words were light on the surface, but heavy underneath, weighed down. By what? Something he wasn’t ready to let spill.

She opened her mouth to shoot back, a protest forming sharp on her tongue, but a large, calloused hand settled on her shoulder. The weight of it was grounding, steadying, warm against her damp clothes.

“Powder…” VI’s voice cut through the moment like a low, steady drumbeat, a rare thread of gentleness woven through her usual gruffness. Her pink-haired head dipped closer, eyes carrying a silent plea as much as a warning. “Let it be.”

Jinx froze for a beat, lips pursed, caught between her instinct to pry and the quiet weight in VI’s tone. 

She was being left out of something. A feeling she despised. 

Nonetheless, she exhaled sharply through her nose and flopped backwards with an exaggerated groan of frustration, throwing her hands up in mock defeat. “Fine,” she muttered, though it sounded reluctant, almost sour on her tongue.

Snapping the ambience in half was the sound of approaching footsteps in the sand. All three turned their heads, and there she was: Caitlyn. Radiant in the faint moonlight despite the chaos they’d all just survived. Her sharp, composed demeanour was softened by the loose strands of hair framing her face, still damp at the ends. She had thrown on a glossy, navy-blue cardigan that clung to her in the harbour breeze, the faint shimmer of its fabric catching every flicker of lanternlight around them.

VI, for once, went completely still. Her arms paused mid-motion as she was wringing out a towel, eyes locking on Caitlyn like someone had just stolen her breath clean out of her lungs. For a long second, the bruiser forgot every thought in her head, caught between staring and remembering how to blink.

Jinx noticed first. Her lips curled into a wicked grin, and she jabbed Ekko in the ribs. He followed her gaze, and both of them stifled a laugh, shoulders shaking. Jinx leaned closer to him and whispered just loud enough for VI to hear, “Uh oh, someone’s stopped working”

“Yup,” Ekko snickered, teeth flashing white in the dim light. “System overload.”

“Both of you, shut it,” VI barked automatically, heat crawling up her neck as she tossed the towel aside a little too forcefully. The reprimand lacked its usual bite, sounding more like a half-hearted plea, which only made the trouble duo snicker harder.

Caitlyn stopped a few paces away, her own lips twitching with restrained amusement as her sharp blue eyes flitted between the three of them. She didn’t say a word about the teasing, though the tilt of her head and faintly raised brow told VI she’d clocked every second of it.

Instead, the young Kiramman straightened her cardigan with deliberate composure, smoothed down a stray lock of hair, and let the silence stretch just long enough to make VI shift awkwardly. Then she clasped her hands together, her voice steady but carrying that undercurrent of command she wielded so naturally.

“Well, since we’re all finally settled,” she glanced at the ex-convict’s sprawled form and received a cheeky wave in return, 

“I suppose we start getting ready.”

—SIDE : MAROON—

The night air inside the dimly lit safehouse was thick, bearing the fingerprints of men and women who lived their lives on battlefields. Lanternlight pooled in the corners, flickering against maps of Piltover nailed haphazardly to the peeling walls, each inked with lines, arrows, and speculative markings about trade routes and hextech convoys.

At the centre of it all, Ambessa Medarda sat with the posture of a queen on a throne that was far beneath her station; a weathered wooden chair that creaked under the weight of her sheer presence. She leaned forward on the scarred table, long, calloused fingers idly tracing the edge of a map like a predator circling prey. Her armour was stripped down to only what was necessary, a leather pauldron slung over one shoulder, a crimson sash knotted at her waist, but the glint in her amber eyes reminded any that she didn’t need any type of gear to be dangerous.

“Cassandra Kiramman is a woman bound by duty. Bound so tightly, I suspect, she cannot imagine life without its leash,” Ambessa mused, swirling a half-empty glass of dark liquor. 

Across from her, Rictus stood firm, his stature like that of a wolfhound – barely restrained by a loose chain. A giant of a man, scarred from temple to collarbone. He listened in, intently.

“Piltover thrives on the illusion of unity. Remove one brick…” She leaned back, spreading her arms lazily, the gesture somehow regal even in this squalid den. “And the whole structure comes tumbling down.”

In the corner of the room, Maddie was a strange, almost ghostly counterpoint to the other two. A girl who seemed to dwarf in size to her militant overheads, sitting cross-legged on a stool with a chipped terracotta pot balanced carefully in her lap. Inside, a small, sickly fern drooped over the edge, its leaves mottled and curling. Maddie’s pale fingers traced the rim of the pot with quiet fascination, as if the crumbling plant held secrets more valuable than hextech or war strategies.

She hadn’t spoken once since they entered the room, but her sharp eyes, an unsettling, glassy grey that rarely blinked, flicked up every now and again to watch the two warriors. A detached sort of interest, like a crow perched on a fencepost, watching two larger predators argue over a carcass. When Ambessa slammed his fist against the table in emphasis, the plant shivered in its soil, and Maddie frowned faintly, shielding it with her palm as though it were the most important thing in the world.

She had been more invested in the wilting fern in her lap than in the low, gruff voices trading words at the table. Her small fingers brushed clumps of dry soil from the rim of the pot, her lips pursed in concentration as if reviving the plant mattered more than the schemes swirling around her.

It was Ambessa's sharp, sudden laugh that finally drew the younger girl's attention. The sound cut through the dim air like a blade, rich and commanding. Maddie’s eyes lifted and settled on the tall, battle-hardened matriarch leaning forward over the table. Ambessa’s gaze was locked with Rictus', unwavering, as though she were daring him to challenge her resolve. 

“Even the strongest pillars have their weak points,” Ambessa murmured, her tone laced with quiet menace. Her fingers traced the edge of a map pinned flat on the scarred wood, circling the council chambers like a hawk stalking prey. 

Then, the young warrior finally spoke: a voice small but unsettling.

“Chains snap easier when rusty,” she mumbled, her words floating into the room as if from somewhere far away. “You just have to know when to pull.”

Ambessa's head turned slightly, one sharp brow lifting as her amber eyes flicked to the girl. A flicker of approval passed across her face, quick as lightning but undeniable. She swirled the amber liquid in her glass, lips curling in a slow, knowing smile.

“See? Even the little crow understands.” Ambessa remarked, her voice smooth as poured velvet. “And, luckily enough for us,” Her eyes returned to Rictus, every word deliberate, heavy with purpose. She leaned back in her chair, confidence radiating from every line of her posture. 

“We’ve found our weak pillar.”

—SIDE : RED—

Holy shit, this is happening.

Was all VI could think as she sat on the edge of a bed, wrestling with a starched white collar that refused to sit flat. She muttered a curse under her breath, tugging at the stiff fabric tightly fastened around her neck.

“Feels like a noose,” she grumbled, more to herself than anyone, but loud enough that Caitlyn’s lips twitched in faint amusement.

Across the room, Kiramman stood at the full-length mirror, fastening the last clasp on her tailored navy jacket. Her gloved fingers moved with precision, though her sharp eyes betrayed a quiet focus, already rehearsing arguments for the meeting ahead. Every polished button, every smoothed lapel was a shield against what would await them at those council doors.

At the table, Powder swung her legs as she perched on the chair’s ledge, fiddling with a loose tassel on her dress shirt. A nervous energy pulsed from her small frame, eyes flicking from Caitlyn to VI, then back to the floor. She tried to ignore the heaviness pressing on her chest, spinning the tool in her fingers faster, like it could wrench her thoughts away from the dark well they kept slipping into.

The silence between them stretched, broken only by the faint rustle of Caitlyn gathering papers and VI’s ongoing fight with her shirt. The tension coiled tighter and tighter in Powder’s stomach, until it felt like she might explode just to release it.

“It’s not safe,”

Finally, Powder broke the quiet, her voice cutting through it like a bullet.

Both Caitlyn and VI froze. The pink-haired woman’s hands stilled mid-tug on her collar, her brows knitting together as if the thought hadn’t even crossed her mind. Caitlyn, still halfway bent over a stack of neatly arranged papers, turned slowly, eyes narrowing with quiet concern as she searched the young girl’s face.

VI recovered first, forcing a lopsided smirk as if to swat the tension from the air. “Ah, c’mon, Pow,” she drawled, the usual swagger in her voice a little too quick, a little too forced. “These bigwigs aren’t anything to be scared of.”

Powder didn’t flinch nor grin. The fabric in her hand was suffering under the force of her grip, her knuckles bone-white. She hopped down from the table with a thud that seemed to shake the air, her feet carrying her forward in hurried, almost frantic steps.

“The meeting,” she spat, every syllable sharper than the last. She stopped only when she was a breath away from her sister, staring up at her with eyes wide and burning like a fuse too close to catching flame. “You can’t go, VI. If they figure out. If they put it together…” Her voice hitched mid-sentence; like glass under too much pressure, the words dissolving in her throat. In response, VI straightened, broad shoulders rolling back, arms crossing like a wall she’d built a thousand times over. Her jaw tightened and her face hardened, her tone firm,

“I told you, Powder,” she started, voice low, trying to steady the quiver she thought she heard in her sister’s tone. “You don’t need to worry about—”

“Stop saying that!” Powder exploded, the shout ricocheting off the walls. It was ragged, desperate, with no hint of her usual barks of laughter or biting retort. Caitlyn’s head snapped between them, stunned, blue eyes wide, lips parting as if she might say something but couldn’t find the words fast enough. A it, either. Powder stood her ground, fists shaking, eyes glassy but fierce, every inch of her screaming defiance. 

“Stop telling me I don’t need to worry when you’re in danger!” The words were ripped straight from her chest, raw and unpolished, her breath shuddering in the space after them like the silence before a storm.

The room seemed to hold its breath.

Caitlyn’s gaze softened as she stepped closer, almost on instinct, her voice dipping low but weighted with urgency. “In danger?” she echoed, trying to keep her tone calm despite the sudden tension thickening the air. She looked between them, searching the younger girl’s trembling frame, her white-knuckled grip on the spanner, and the way VI stood frozen, caught between guilt and stubbornness.

“VI,” Caitlyn whispered, every syllable deliberate, “did someone find out?”

VI’s posture faltered, just for a second. The weight of their words sank into her like stones in water, dragging down that stubborn defiance. How does Powder know? Did she hear me and Cassandra?

“No— No, of course not.” VI attempted to establish her calm, but the teenager wasn’t so easily convinced. Her hands pressed onto the golden charm on her neck, the one VI had passed down to her months ago. The one Vander had passed to her. She held it tight, eyes glued to it as though it anchored her courage. Then she looked up, gaze steady despite the tremor in her voice. 

“You’ve always had my back… Just this once, let me have yours.”

Caitlyn’s confusion swirled, a tight knot in her chest, but beneath it came a flicker of understanding. Somehow, her clarity grew with her bewilderment. It pulled her forward before she’d fully decided what to do. She drew in a slow, steady breath, trying to temper the tension thrumming through the air like a live wire. Her heels clicked softly against the wooden floor as she closed the distance, careful.

She lowered herself into a crouch, the folds of her tailored coat brushing the floor, until she was eye level with the trembling girl clutching that spanner like a lifeline. Powder’s wide, stormy gaze darted between her and VI, defiance and fear warring beneath the surface. Caitlyn reached out but stopped short of touching her, keeping her hands loose at her sides as she softened her voice to a near whisper.

“Jinx,” she coaxed, the name tender on her tongue, as if speaking it too harshly might break the fragile moment. “Do you think you can handle it?”

“Caitlyn—” VI’s rough voice cut in sharply, a warning on her lips, but the protest died the instant Caitlyn’s eyes flicked toward her. It wasn’t anger that silenced the boxer. It was something softer, a silent plea, begging for trust. She didn’t know why, but she couldn’t get her mouth to move after seeing that face.

Powder’s throat bobbed as she swallowed hard. She glanced down briefly, her fingers brushing over the gold of the necklace, the metal warmed by her nervous grip. She squeezed it once, as though drawing courage from the weight of it, before lifting her gaze again.

“I can do it,” she murmured, her voice shaking at the start but gathering strength with every word. Her shoulders straightened, small fists unclenching as though making room for resolve to seep in. “I know I can.”

VI felt her chest tighten an almost suffocating amount the instant the words left Powder’s mouth, a muscle in her cheek ticking like a warning drum. Something brewed deeply in her eyes, drowning in gnawing fear. It had lived in her chest for years now. Her hands clenched against her arms, leather gloves creaking under the strain as if holding herself still was the only thing stopping her from dragging her baby sister away from the danger entirely.

“Powder…” VI breathed out, the name rough, torn between sorrow and desperation. She took one step forward, looming yet hesitant, like a boxer trapped in the corner of the ring. “You don’t gotta prove anything… Just let me handle it. Let me—”

But her voice faltered as Caitlyn rose from her crouch, moving with quiet confidence to place herself between the sisters, not a barrier but a bridge. The markswoman turned to VI, her calm composure belying the storm that still lingered in her own chest. She reached out, laying a steadying hand on VI’s arm, her touch warm, grounding.

“She’s not trying to prove herself,” Caitlyn murmured, her tone even, deliberate, as if weaving reason through VI’s stubborn armour. Her blue eyes met hers, steady and sure. “She’s trying to protect you. And, maybe just this once, we can let her do that.”

VI’s gaze darted between Caitlyn’s face and Powder’s trembling yet determined expression. Her heart clenched painfully, a thousand protests fighting to be spoken, every instinct screaming that it wasn’t worth the risk. Despite it all, standing in the moment, she felt that wall she always carried with her begin to crack. Before she fell into the pit, though, she felt something crash into her chest.

It was Powder, small yet fierce in her desperation, throwing her arms around VI’s middle with a suddenness that nearly knocked the breath out of the bruiser. The girl clung to her like the world might swallow them both if she let go, her thin fingers clutching into the fabric of VI’s jacket as though holding tighter would keep everything safe, keep her sister untouchable.

VI froze for a heartbeat, the unexpected weight of her little sister’s fear pressing against her chest like a punch she hadn’t braced for. She glanced down to find Powder’s face buried against her, shoulders trembling, her breath uneven and damp where they met VI’s shirt.

“It’s like you said…” Powder’s voice broke as she attempted a laugh; tilting her head just enough for the words to escape. “It’s just a meeting… right?” Her attempt at steadiness cracked halfway through, the plea too obvious to hide.

Something in VI’s chest gave out, the stubborn fight leaking from her like air from a punctured tire. She let out a breath that was half a laugh, half a surrender, brushing her rough, scarred hand over Powder’s tangled hair with uncharacteristic gentleness.

“Low blow, Pow,” she murmured, the faintest rasp of emotion threading through her voice as she finally bent low, wrapping her arms around her sister in return. She squeezed her back, strong and steady, like she could shield herself from every damn thing this city might throw at them, even if just for one fragile moment.

VI held Powder close for a long moment, feeling the frailty in that desperate little grip. When she finally glanced up, her tired eyes found Caitlyn standing just a few paces away, frozen in place, the weight of the scene etched on her face. The topsider’s hands were half-raised like she was unsure whether to reach out or give them space, torn between propriety and the pull in her chest.

Without thinking twice, VI stretched out an arm, rough and certain, and hooked Caitlyn by the wrist.

“C’mere,” she muttered, her voice a little hoarse, but leaving no room for argument. “Family, ain’t cha’?”

Caitlyn blinked, startled, a soft gasp escaping her lips as she stumbled the last step forward. She opened her mouth to protest, something about giving them space, but before the words could take shape, VI’s arm was around her waist, tugging her firmly into the circle of warmth.

For a fraction of a second, Caitlyn went stiff, surprised by the sudden closeness, her breath catching at the heat of VI’s body pressed to hers and Powder’s small frame wedged between them. The scent of leather clung to VI’s jacket, mixing with the faint metallic tang of Caitlyn’s own perfume. Her heart pounded in her ears.

Then something in her softened, the tension melting out of her shoulders as she exhaled slowly, letting herself sink into the embrace. Her arms came up hesitantly at first, then fully, one curling protectively around Powder’s narrow back, the other resting on VI’s forearm where it was locked firmly around them both.

Powder gave a tiny, muffled sigh, as if the weight of both sisters’ presence was enough to hold her world together for a moment. VI pressed her chin lightly against the top of Powder’s head and glanced at Caitlyn over the younger girl’s hair. Their eyes met, violet and blue, an unspoken understanding passing between them:

Whatever else this night brought, this bond was the one thing that mattered most.

—SIDE : INDIGO—

Here they were.

Towering over them stood the grand council building: its polished marble steps gleaming faintly under the night skyline. Caitlyn stood poised yet tense, her gloved fingers fiddling with the edge of her sleeve, the faintest tremor betraying the storm of nerves in her chest. Beside her, VI loomed like a steadfast sentinel, though her nerves were just better disguised. Jinx lingered close, blue eyes darting toward the council doors as though they were the gates to another world entirely. Weren’t they?

Jayce was the first to arrive at the council steps. His tall frame cut through the overhead lamp lights as he approached. The confident Council’s golden boy had softened, replaced by the far more genuine Jayce Talis. A small, encouraging smile curved his lips as he stopped directly in front of Caitlyn.

“I’m proud of you, Sprout,” he confessed, each word measured, heavy with sincerity. It wasn’t like the hollow praise of politics or the polite approval of a colleague. No, it was always from the heart with Jayce, and it caught Caitlyn off guard, easing just a fraction of the tight knot coiled in her chest. Her breath trembled on the way out as she looked up at him, eyes glistening faintly in the filtered morning glow. 

“Thank you, Jayce,” she replied, her voice thin, betraying the tangle of emotions that churned beneath her otherwise composed self. Jayce’s smile widened just enough to reach his eyes. He placed a firm but gentle hand on her arm, the weight of it steadying, grounding. 

“You’ve got this,” he assured, his tone carrying a conviction Caitlyn wished she could mirror. For a fleeting second, his presence anchored her in place, reminded her that she wasn’t walking into the unknown alone.

With that, he gave her arm a final squeeze, then turned toward the massive double doors. The light caught on the polished edges of his suit whilst he strode forward, pushing through the ornate entryway and leaving Caitlyn in the quiet echo of his reassurance.

One by one, the other councillors arrived, their expressions polite but reserved. Mel glided past in a swirl of gold silk, pausing only to lift her hand in a graceful wave, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. Caitlyn offered a faint nod in return, her throat too tight for words.

Last came Cassandra, deliberate and quiet in her approach, her boots barely whispering against the stone. Caitlyn’s jaw tightened as her mother stopped before her, and she exhaled sharply. 

"Save whatever sly remark you have, Mother," she muttered, trying to steel herself against whatever was coming.

But Cassandra merely raised a hand, palm outward, halting the barbed exchange before it could begin. Her voice was uncharacteristically soft, low enough that it carried only to Caitlyn’s ears. 

"No remarks. I’m proud of you." 

A genuine smile, so rare that it almost looked foreign to her face, tugged at the edges of her lips, her gaze falling onto VI and Jinx before returning to her daughter. For a tense heartbeat, VI and Cassandra locked eyes, hostility sharp and unspoken in their shared glance. But it shifted slowly, the edges softening into reluctant understanding, at least from Cassandra’s side. 

With that, she drew closer, placing a hand on her daughter’s shoulder, her voice threaded with something rare, almost vulnerable. "All I have ever wanted is to build your future. If this is the direction you choose to take it, then I will stand by you."

The words hung in the air, unexpected, disarming. Caitlyn blinked rapidly, as though her mother had spoken in a language she’d never heard before.

"And, if you are so confident in the company you keep, then I suppose they cannot be so bad." 

Caitlyn’s lips trembled, her breath catching as the weight of those words sank deep. She swallowed hard, unable to trust her voice. Tobias stepped forward next, his familiar warmth easing the knot in her chest. He swept her into a quick, heartfelt hug, murmuring near her ear, 

"Knock them dead, sweetheart." When he pulled away, Cassandra joined the embrace, brief but strong, a quiet, unspoken promise passing between them before the pair turned and entered the building.

Left standing on the steps, the young Kiramman swiped quickly at the corners of her eyes, willing her composure back into place. A small hand slipped into hers, warm and grounding. Jinx’s eyes met hers, offering silent reassurance with a soft squeeze. Caitlyn managed a wobbly smile and nodded.

Filling the emptiness, VI shifted her weight from one boot to the other, hands shoved into the pockets of her coat, trying to look casual and failing miserably. Her sharp eyes split between Caitlyn and Jinx. She looked like she wanted to say something, anything, but the words stuck – lodged somewhere in her throat.

“Guess this is where I let my fancy ladies go do their thing, huh?” VI’s tone was gruff and unsteady, betraying the undercurrent of worry she tried to hide. Her mouth quirked up at one corner, but her eyes searched Caitlyn’s face for reassurance, for anything to cling to.

Caitlyn, sensing her partner’s hesitation, turned to face her fully. The sight of VIwearing that uncertain half-smile made Caitlyn’s heart ache. Before she could speak, Jinx tugged gently at her hand, dragging her closer to VI.

“We’ll be fine,” The topsider whispered, almost to herself as much as to VI.

Suddenly, Jinx threw her arms around both women, once again, nearly knocking Caitlyn off balance. 

“Group hug or it doesn’t count,” she declared, her usual smile dimmed but still bright enough to lighten the heavy air. Without hesitation, VI’s arms wrapped around both of them instinctively, pulling her sister and Caitlyn tight against her chest.

“You two got this,” VI murmured, pressing two kisses, one to Jinx’s forehead and the other to Caitlyn’s lips. They lingered there, reluctant to break the fragile moment. Finally, Caitlyn pulled back, her cheeks tinged pink, her eyes glassy but determined. Jinx, ever the wildcard, slipped her hand back into Caitlyn’s and gave it a firm squeeze, nodding toward the grand double doors like a promise.

With one last glance over her shoulder, Caitlyn met VI’s gaze. It was a silent vow that whatever waited beyond those doors, they’d come back to her. And then, hand in hand with Jinx, the markswoman climbed the last few steps, ready to face the council. 

VI remained rooted on the landing, watching until the doors shut, her jaw tight, her fists flexing at her sides as if willing herself not to go after them.

“Be safe, damnit.”

…

Moonlight filtered through the vaulted windows of the council chamber.

A great circular table stretched before Jinx and Caitlyn, lined with Piltover’s most powerful figures. Jayce sat near the end, trying to wave discreetly to Caitlyn. Mel, poised and deliberate, watched Caitlyn with quiet encouragement, a subtle nod of support. Across from them, Cassandra’s expression was unreadable, but her posture was unwavering – she was here for her daughter.

The others were less forgiving. Leaned back, lips pursed as though the mere presence of a Zaunite sullied the room. For instance, Councillor Salo adjusted his jacket with sharp disdain, not even trying to hide the sneer on his face. Their eyes burned into Jinx like a brand, measuring her, dismissing her, as if her very existence was an inconvenience they wished to sweep aside.

Caitlyn’s throat tightened, but she forced herself to stand tall at the podium. Her voice, steady despite the tremor running through her, cut through the murmurs like a drawn blade.

“Piltover has not merely turned a blind eye to Zaun’s suffering,” she began, her voice sweeping through the room, “it has thrived on it. Our prosperity has been built on exploitation.”

A ripple of discomfort and disbelief stirred among the councillors. Bolbok leaned forward, scoffing. 

“You’re exaggerating, Enforcer. The undercity’s state is its own doing. Piltover has provided—”

“Provided what?” Caitlyn’s voice sharpened like a whipcrack. “Scraps? Chains? You call polluted water and open sewers a provision? Conscripting children into mines?” Her words struck like bullets, leaving silence in their wake. But she could feel the resistance, an unwillingness to truly hear her.

Though her passion wasn’t unmatched. More questions came, relentless, their tone a mix of scepticism and thinly veiled hostility. 

‘Why should Piltover divert resources?’ 

‘Was the undercity truly their responsibility?’

‘Does Piltover not have a right to protect itself?’

Caitlyn answered each with fervour, but the weight of years of prejudice was crushing, seeping into the cracks of every word spoken. Through it all, Jinx remained standing just behind Caitlyn, her small frame rigid, hands clasped so tight her knuckles went white. The stares burned worse than gunfire. Every judgmental glance was a reminder: in their eyes, she wasn’t a person. 

She was a problem. A dangerous, unwanted remnant of a world they’d rather pretend didn’t exist. It wasn’t just the councillors. Surrounding them were legions of bodyguards: enforcers. The ex-convict was unsure if she preferred them with or without their helmets on.

Through the barrage of an attack, Mel leaned back in her chair, her carefully composed expression giving nothing away, but her words dripped like poison laced honey. 

“But Caitlyn,” she began, each syllable deliberate, “aren’t Zaunites free citizens of Piltover? If they find themselves in Stillwater, perhaps it’s because they’ve earned their place there. Crime has consequences, does it not?” Her voice wasn’t raised, but it carried, smooth and sharp, threading through the tense chamber like a coiled whip waiting to strike.

The implication hung heavy in the air, drawing a collective murmur from a few council members. Caitlyn felt the words like a blow to the chest, her breath catching as she stared at Mel, a flash of hurt in her eyes. But beneath the sting of betrayal, she recognised it for what it was – not genuine condemnation, but a gauntlet thrown, a lifeline dressed as a challenge, offering Caitlyn to shoot it down.

She opened her mouth, ready to push back, to fire every truth she had locked and loaded, when another voice shattered the charged stillness.

“Crime?”

The single word was a low, dangerous echo, dripping with incredulity, tinged with something far darker. Jinx’s head rose from where it had been bowed all session, her electric-blue hair spilling forward as her gaze snapped toward Mel. Her eyes glimmered like fractured glass catching firelight, jagged and bright, carrying a fury that felt festering.

The entire chamber seemed to contract, the air growing denser as every gaze swung toward her. Caitlyn, half-turned toward her companion, froze. The determination on her face faltered. But she didn’t interrupt, didn’t move to stop her, only watched with wide eyes as Jinx’s words threatened to unravel the facade of civility the council clung to like a shield.

“I was ten.” 

“Ten years old— Do you know what that place is like?” 

Jinx staggered forward, voice darkening to a razor’s edge, quickening with each syllable. 

“Cells with no light for days. Blood and mould and rats. Guards who break bones for sport because no one gives a damn.”

Her eyes burned as they swept across the semicircle of richly dressed council members.

“I saw people die there.

Good people.”

The chamber, once buzzing with debate, fell deathly silent. The judgmental stares faltered, suddenly unsure, as if the air had grown too heavy to breathe. Jinx’s gaze raked across the council table, daring anyone to meet her eyes, daring them to dismiss her story.

“Tell me,” she hissed, her voice suddenly soft but dripping with venom, “Was it… Was it deserved? We had nothing to eat… It was steal or starve.”

Not a single councillor answered. Not even the smug ones. Silence stretched long and taut, suffocating.

“I wasn’t the best… But I wasn’t that bad, was I?”

Jinx’s fingers twitched violently against the edge of the table, nails scraping wood as though she could carve her wrath into it. The silence was cowardice. It was guilt. Not one of them had the spine to answer her.

“Why can’t any of you tell me?” she spat, breath shuddering through gritted teeth “Why’d you all go quiet now?” Her gaze darted from face to face, desperate to find someone willing to look at her, to admit something, anything. 

But they all averted.

Rage clawed at her chest, threatening to spill out in a storm of shrapnel and fire. 

She wanted to

blow their brains out.

The image made her fingers itch even more.

“You,” she snarled, rising slightly from her seat, voice cracking like a whip, “you send people to a fate worse than death every single day.” Her eyes burned with unholy fire as they swept over the table, sharp as a loaded trigger. “So tell me…” her lip curled, “why aren’t you all in jail?”

The silence deepened, oppressive and hollow, a void where justice should have been.

And then, through the blur of faces blurred by anger, she noticed him.

A man who didn’t belong. Frail, stooped slightly over a worn cane, his clothes hanging too loose on his frame. His lined face bore the weary marks of time, but it was his eyes that rooted her in place. Unlike the others, he wasn’t looking away. He met her glare and held it. There was worry woven deep into his brow, a quiet sorrow in his gaze that the girl couldn’t quite place.

Jinx froze for a heartbeat, her energy wilting under the unexpected weight of that look. She didn’t know why, but something in his stare clung to her, grounding and unsettling all at once, as if for the first time someone in this chamber truly saw her, scars and all.

“I thought being rid of Silco would solve all our issues. I was naive.” In her pause, Caitlyn stepped closer to the podium, her voice quieter now, stripped of its earlier fire but no less cutting. “How many more innocents before we decide it’s too high a price?”

She stood firm, hands gripping the edge of the podium, eyes sweeping over the table with steel resolve. Across the table, Hoskel and Shoola shifted uncomfortably, their confidence cracking.

No one dared to break the quiet that hung over the chamber. Their perfectly polished words, their proud, hollow debates; all were futile now. Jinx felt her own pulse hammering in her ears, every muscle in her wiry frame thrumming like a live wire. If they wouldn’t speak, she would make sure they remembered every damn word she left behind.

Leaning forward, the ex-convict’s posture shifted from restlessness to something far more deliberate, like a predator stalking its prey. Her voice came out quieter now, stripped of its earlier bite, but laced with something darker, sharper, a promise more than a threat.

“Maybe,” she murmured, every word like the click of a revolver’s chamber, “maybe you won’t get it until the cost is one of your own.”

The words slithered through the council chamber, chilling and undeniable. Caitlyn’s head snapped toward her, eyes widening at the grim suggestion. It was a flash of alarm, but not surprise. She’d glimpsed this shadow in Jinx before, knew it lived there, coiled and waiting. Yet the sharpshooter recovered quickly, straightening her spine until she stood like the protector she had sworn to be.

Caitlyn faced the councillors, her voice cutting through the heavy air with razor precision, every ounce of noble fury sharpened to a point. “The sons and daughters of Zaun deserve more than their runoff. You cannot ignore them anymore.”

The words rang out, lingering long after they’d left her lips. For a heartbeat, the room was utterly still. It was merely the first fracture in Piltover’s iron wall of self-righteousness, but a fracture nonetheless. 

Mel was the first to break the silence, clearing her throat softly, her expression unreadable but far more sombre than it had been at the start. Jayce shifted uncomfortably, his eyes fixed on the table, while Cassandra’s face held something far closer to quiet resolve than condemnation.

At last, the council chair announced the session adjourned in a voice that cracked at the edges, and the ornate gavel came down. The sound echoed hollowly through the chamber, final yet uncertain, as though even it couldn’t decide if justice had truly been served.

Caitlyn and Jinx didn’t move immediately. They stood in the heavy stillness, twin shadows of fire and steel, before Caitlyn finally reached for Jinx’s arm, a silent promise that they had made it. Jinx gave one last scathing look to the assembly as they left.

Or, at least, tried to leave. But when Jinx tried to move her legs, her knees buckled beneath her – as if no longer hers. The world tilted, and she dropped to the floor with a sharp exhale, palms hitting the cold marble to steady herself.

“Jinx!” Caitlyn’s voice broke through the haze, sharp with worry as she darted to her side. The young Kiramman crouched low, hands instinctively reaching to help, but Jinx jerked away with a twitch of her shoulder, her breath uneven but her glare defiant.

“I’m fine,” the powder-haired girl rasped, more pride than truth in the statement. Her voice was frayed, stretched taut like a bowstring ready to snap. She hauled herself upright again, swaying slightly but refusing Caitlyn’s arm. With a quick flick of her head, as if shaking off both weakness and comfort, she started toward the towering doors, the faintest tremor still lingering in her stride.

They stepped out into the fading light, but the victory they had fought for felt fragile, like a flame threatened by the first breath of wind.

They didn’t make it far down the sunlit steps before a blur of movement came darting toward them. A young enforcer in an oversized uniform, her eyes wide and glittering like she’d just seen a hero leap off a storybook page, nearly skidded to a stop in front of Caitlyn.

“That was… That was incredible!” the starry-eyed girl exclaimed, bouncing slightly on her heels. “The way you stood up to them all— the whole room just froze! And you—” she swung her gaze toward Jinx, utterly fearless, “—You were terrifying and amazing all at once! Do you always do that? Do you train for it? Do you—”

“E–Excuse me? Who are you?” Caitlyn instinctively lurched back from the stranger, placing her hands before Jinx protectively.

“Oh, I’m Officer Nolan! But you can call me Maddie, of course!” The ginger-haired woman gleamed, the sun-kissed freckles spread around her face squishing with her smile. In a show of her overwhelming goodwill, she offered her hand to the heir.

“Ah, I see…” Kiramman muttered. 

She did not accept the gesture.

“I’m so sorry for bothering you, but you’re my hero! As of today, that is! Some might say that’s too soon to make a hero, but to that I say—!”

“Perhaps now isn’t the time for…” Caitlyn tried to dissuade the woman, but Maddie ploughed on, words tumbling like an unrelenting stream, entirely undeterred by Caitlyn’s strained composure. 

With a sigh that spoke of exhaustion and frayed nerves, Caitlyn turned to the smaller girl beside her. “Jinx,” she whispered, “Go on ahead without me. This may… take a while.”

Jinx tilted her head, blue eyes warmly looking to her sister before glaring at the overeager enforcer. Her mouth opened, a smart remark clearly ready to fly, but the lingering tremble in her legs reminded her how unsteady she truly felt. With a lopsided grin that didn’t quite reach her eyes, she hummed, 

“Fine, but don’t let her recruit you to a fan club,” Before giving her one more small hug as she began to trudge off.

Caitlyn watched her go, jaw tight, before slowly turning back to Maddie with the weariness of someone bracing for another uphill battle. “Right,” the sharpshooter muttered, fixing the young enforcer with a steady, pointed look, “you have exactly three questions left. Make them count.”

Maddie only beamed wider, completely oblivious to Caitlyn’s fraying patience.

—SIDE : RED—

There she was. Caitlyn sat on the edge of the pier, shoulders slouched, staring blankly at the dying sunlight that painted the horizon in hues of amber and violet. She looked utterly spent, her polished composure stripped away after the long day of scrutiny and questions. A familiar, raspy voice cut through the silence. 

“Heya, sleepyhead,” VI teased, though the warmth in her tone betrayed her taunting.

Caitlyn glanced sideways, the corner of her lips twitching tiredly. “Hey, you’d be a sleepyhead too if you had the evening I did,” she muttered, voice feathered with exhaustion.

VI lowered herself onto the wooden planks beside her, one knee bent, one leg stretched out. “They wear you out that bad, huh?” she asked with a crooked grin.

Caitlyn exhaled a soft, defeated laugh. With a slow, almost reluctant movement, she leaned sideways until her head rested on VI’s shoulder, her weight sinking into the comfort she instinctively sought.

More adoring than she’d admit aloud, VI’s arm rose to pat Caitlyn’s back gently, her other hand resting on the dock behind them. “How’d it go in there?” she asked, voice quiet now, as if the words might spook the fragile calm settling between them.

“I… think I got through to them,” Caitlyn murmured, eyes fluttering shut. “Even if just a little. Even a fracture is enough to start the collapse.”

A beat of silence passed before she added softly, “How’s Jinx? She seemed… shaken after the meeting.”

VI’s lips tugged upward, a fondness in her eyes as she recalled the sight of her kid sister curled up back home. “Well, she walked through the door, face-planted on the couch, and was out like a light before I could even ask how she was feeling.”

That earned a genuine giggle from Caitlyn, muffled against VI’s shoulder. VI chuckled with her, the sound easing the heaviness of the day.

After a long pause, VI exhaled, her tone stripped of any rough edges. “Y’know…” she began, rolling her knuckles against her thigh as if trying to find the right words, “I get it. I hover. A lot.” She gave a quiet, self-deprecating chuckle. “Half the time I feel like I’m breathing down Powder’s neck, waiting for the next thing that might hurt her so I can punch it away before it gets close.” Her gaze dropped to the wooden boards beneath their feet, voice trailing lower. 

“I just… I don’t ever wanna fail her again. Not after everything.”

Caitlyn lifted her head slightly, turning to face the hardened woman. She reached over, brushing her fingertips against VI’s calloused hand before entwining them.

“You’ve never failed her, VI. She’s lucky to have you,” Caitlyn murmured, her tone steady yet tender, laced with a kind of warmth that seemed to reach past VI’s usual walls. Her fingers tightened around the brawler’s roughened hand, offering comfort without hesitation.

There was a beat of silence before Caitlyn lifted her head from VI’s shoulder, tilting just enough to meet her gaze. The moonlight caught in her eyes as she added softly, yet with undeniable conviction, “You’re possibly the best big sister I’ve ever seen.”

The words landed like a gut punch, knocking the breath right out of VI. She quickly averted her gaze, staring out at the dark bay waters as if they held the perfect excuse not to look back at Caitlyn.

“Pfft,” she grunted, trying for nonchalance but failing miserably as her voice wavered. A rough hand came up to swipe at her face, fingers brushing just beneath her eyes. “Not cryin’,” she muttered gruffly, the corner of her mouth twitching as if she couldn’t quite hold the line between laughter and tears. “Just… got somethin’ in my damn eye.”

Caitlyn’s grin softened into something tender. “Of course you do.” She reached up, fingertips brushing VI’s cheek before leaning in, her lips finding hers in a slow, deliberate kiss.

VI froze for half a heartbeat, then melted into it, the tension leaving her shoulders as she kissed back with unguarded warmth. The world beyond the pier seemed to vanish, leaving only the two of them in their quiet cocoon of fading light and unspoken words.

When they parted just enough to catch their breath, VI’s forehead rested against Caitlyn’s, her voice husky with emotion. “Y’know, if you keep being this sweet to me, I might actually start depending on you.”

Kiramman gave a half-smirk, brushing her thumb over the back of VI’s hand. “Oh no, however will I live with that?” She tipped her head to the side, eyes glinting with mischief under the moonlight.  

God, she’s fucking beautiful. 

Before she could stop herself, she reached up, cupping VI’s jaw with her gloved hand, pulling her into another kiss. VI’s breath caught, and she shifted closer, one arm snaking around Caitlyn’s waist as if daring the universe to pry them apart.

When they parted just slightly, their noses brushing, Caitlyn whispered, her tone almost shaky, “You make me forget where I am.”

“Good. ‘Cause right now, I only wanna be here.” VI’s grin was bright with a softness in her eyes that Caitlyn had rarely seen. 

Caitlyn proceeded to bury her face against VI’s neck, breathing in the faint scent of metal and oil that clung to her. VI held her tighter, the calloused pads of her fingers tracing comforting patterns on Caitlyn’s back. Each small touch spoke louder than any promise either could have made aloud. 

—SIDE : INDIGO—

They were returning to Caitlyn’s home. They were supposed to be. The Kiramman estate, usually calm and unshaken by Piltover’s chaos,

was surrounded. Enforcers lined the gates and steps in a tense half-circle, rifles drawn, boots grinding against the cobblestones as they shifted uneasily in their stances. The air crackled with hostility and unease, a heaviness that clamped down on both Caitlyn and VI before they could even speak.

VI instinctively reached for Caitlyn’s arm, halting her before she could run into the chaos. Her sharp eyes scanned the formation, muscles taut, every instinct screaming that something was wrong. “What the hell is goin’ on here?” she muttered, low, her gaze darting between the armed men.

Caitlyn shoved past VI’s outstretched hand and climbed through the crowd in a rush, her boots hitting the pavement hard. Panic was already creeping into her voice, though she tried to mask it with authority. “Why are you surrounding my home?” she demanded, her voice carrying a force that made some of the younger enforcers flinch.

The officer at the front, a broad-shouldered man with a nervous stance, stepped forward, palms raised in a placating gesture. “Councillor Kiramman, we need you to remain outside. There’s been… an incident. For your own safety, we ask that you wait until the situation is contained.”

“No!” Caitlyn’s voice cracked like a bullet’s whistle – her words laced with both fear and a rising, molten anger. She struck the ground hard as she pushed forward, each step a promise that no one would stand between her and her home. “This is my house. My family is inside. Move!”

She didn’t wait for them to comply. Her shoulder slammed past the officer’s, leaving him stumbling back as she tore through the barricade of bodies. The heavy oak doors of the mansion yawned open before her, and she all but stumbled inside, her heart hammering in her throat.

VI lunged to follow, every instinct screaming to keep Caitlyn in sight, but a sharp, unmistakable sound cut through the night air. Click. The chilling snap of rifle bolts being drawn back.

She froze mid-step, head snapping to the side to find three enforcers with their weapons raised, barrels gleaming under the lantern light and aimed squarely at her chest.

For a moment, VI could only stare, wide-eyed disbelief splintering through her fury. Her expression hardened, jaw tight enough to ache. She stepped forward slowly, like a predator closing in, fists coiling at her sides, voice dropping into a low, venomous growl. “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” she spat, each word dripping contempt. 

“Put that down before I give you a reason to wish you had.”

But the rifles stayed trained on her, the enforcers’ grips trembling yet stubbornly firm. 

Caitlyn’s footsteps and the slam of the inner door had already faded into the mansion, leaving VI alone in the tense standoff, her fury bubbling into raw panic. 

Jinx was in there. Caitlyn was in there. Every second that passed without seeing them made her pulse pound louder in her ears, her restraint thinning like a fraying rope.

She had to get in.

……

Caitlyn tore up the front steps two at a time, lungs burning but refusing to slow. Her heartbeat roared in her ears, drowning out the commotion behind her. 

Every instinct screamed that something was terribly, terribly wrong.

“Mother!” she called out, her voice cracking with desperation as her boots pounded against the marble floor. 

“Father!” No reply. Only the echo of her own voice bouncing back at her. 

She swallowed hard, fighting the rising bile in her throat, and pushed forward, gripping the bannister as she flew up the staircase.

“Jinx!” she shouted next, her throat raw, fear clawing its way up her chest. Nothing. Just silence.

“POWDER, ANSWER ME!”

Door after door swung open under her frantic hands. Empty bedrooms, hallways untouched. With every step, her dread grew heavier, dragging at her legs like lead chains, yet she kept running, heart threatening to burst from her ribcage.

Then, from the corner of her eye, a sliver of light glowed from beneath the living room doors. Relief, shaky and fleeting, flickered in her chest. She stumbled toward it, hope burning bright enough to hurt.

“MOTHER! FATHER!” she cried again, slamming the doors open.

…

..

.

Her parents lay crumpled on the lavish rug.

Their once-familiar faces drained of life.

Their throats torn open in crimson arcs that soaked through silk and carpet alike. 

The air was heavy with the metallic tang of blood, cloying and suffocating.

But worse than that, worse than the carnage, was the figure hunched over their bodies. Small. Slender. Blue hair cascading like a curtain, a shaking hand drenched to the wrist in red. And a smile. Wide, eerie, utterly wrong.

Jinx.

Caitlyn’s breath hitched violently, the sound a strangled gasp. Her legs locked beneath her, refusing to move. Time fractured around her as though reality itself couldn’t bear the weight of what she was seeing. Her vision tunnelled, every detail burning itself into her mind.

The glint of blood on Jinx’s fingers, the grotesque stillness of her parents’ bodies, the twisted curve of that smile.

“Caitlyn!” Jinx’s voice pierced the silence, high-pitched and desperate. She reached out, panic flashing across her face, “It’s not what it looks like! You have to listen!”

But Caitlyn couldn’t hear. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. The sound was muffled, like she was underwater, her body locked in place by sheer horror. Every second stretched into eternity, her heart splintering with a pain so raw she thought it might tear her apart.

The crash of boots behind her barely registered before hands clamped around her arms, dragging her backwards. She didn’t resist, couldn’t. Her eyes stayed fixed on Jinx, on that horrific tableau framed in blood and tragedy.

“No! NO— CAITLYN, LISTEN!” Jinx screeched. It was surely burning her throat. Thrashing and struggling forward as enforcers restrained her, her own shrill voice breaking. Her eyes broke the shield of her contacts, glistening and inhumanely bright purple.

Inhumane.

“IT WASN’T ME. YOU HAVE TO BELIEVE ME!”

But Caitlyn couldn’t answer. Couldn’t think. Her body moved on autopilot as the world pulled her away, her heart left shattered on that blood-soaked rug. 

And when she came back to reality, 

Jinx was gone.

—SIDE : BLUE—

In jail.

Nothing ever goes right. In jail.

I tried. I tried again. 

but it’s always wrong. 

Was I born to suffer? Born a jinx?

Maybe that’s all I am.

Was the world broken first? Or was it me?

I don’t know anymore.

I just want… something to hold on to. Something that’s mine.

I want vi.

Why didn’t caitlyn listen? Was she scared?

Slips away every time.

vi will save me…

Chapter Text

—SIDE : FADED RED—

[Smoke. Screams.

Ears rang – too loud, too much. Can’t think. People shoving, running, falling, gone.

Gone, gone.

Where has Powder gone?

She was right there. She was right there. Vi shoved through the crowd. Every face wrong. Every voice wrong.

“Powder!” 

Her throat burned. No answer.

She pushed harder. Someone grabbed her arm, but she ripped free. Her feet were slipping on something wet. Something she couldn’t bear to face.

Don’t look down. Don’t look. Keep moving.

Another falls in front of her. Eyes open, mouth slack. 

Step over it. Keep going.

“POWDER!” 

Louder this time, desperate, voice cracking.

…

There. Blue hair. Small, so small. Vi stumbled forward. Powder laid on the bridge, staring at nothing. Legs trapped under something. Something heavy. Not moving. Not blinking.

Vi dropped to her knees, engulfing the toddler in her arms. 

“P–Po Powder. You’re okay, you’re okay, I was so scared. 

I was so scared.”

She grabbed her shoulders, shaking gently. No reaction. She grabbed Powder, hauling her close and shielding her face. The words still spilt out, choking her.

Hands shaking, she hoisted the weight off the girl with all her strength. The body slumped over, as if it were made of stone.

The face.

Bullet hole, clean and perfect in the centre of her forehead. Eyes dull, staring.

She couldn’t stop looking. Couldn’t look away.

“Mama?”]

—SIDE : RED—

VI slammed through the front doors like a battering ram, the heavy wood cracking against the walls with a deafening bang. Each step crashed louder than the last, her breath ragged, and her chest heaving as adrenaline surged.

She moved without thinking, every muscle coiled, ready for a fight.

…but she stopped dead in her tracks.

Not because of any enforcers barring her way this time. No, rather, it was the sight laid out before her.

Caitlyn’s parents, reduced to something cold and still, locked in a final, grotesque tableau. Their bodies lay unnaturally twisted where they’d fallen, hands slack, eyes fixed on nothing. The deep, arterial crimson from their slashed throats had seeped outward in slow, merciless tendrils, soaking into the rich threads of gold and burgundy beneath them until the pattern of the ornate rug was nothing but a memory.

And then, past the wreckage, her gaze landed on Caitlyn.

The young sharpshooter stood utterly motionless, framed in the centre of the carnage; a porcelain doll someone had forgotten to put away. Her skin was chalk-white, her pupils wide and glassy, her lips parted as if she’d been about to say something but forgot how. She looked so small, so breakable, swallowed by the cavernous room and the horror within it.

“Caitlyn…”

The name left VI in barely more than a breath, but it felt like it scraped its way out of her chest. She stood rooted to the spot, muscles coiled tight, eyes locked on the woman before her, but her focus slipped past her in the next heartbeat.

Her gaze prowled the room, cutting through every shadow, every overturned chair, every dark corner where something – someone – could be hiding. She scanned for even the smallest sign: a streak of that powder-blue hair, a flash of that massive grin, the glint of eyes that protected the most fragile soul.

Nothing.

The absence hit her harder than the sight of the bodies had. It sank in her stomach like a block of stone, cold and immovable.

Powder isn’t here.

Her head snapped toward the doorway. “You.”

Her voice cracked through the air like a whip, sharp enough to make one of the lingering enforcers jolt where he stood, rifle still awkwardly half-raised. VI closed the distance in a handful of heavy, thunderous steps, her boots hammering against the marble like gunshots.

“There was a girl staying here.” Her tone was low, lethal, the kind of voice that carried promises of violence. “Where is she?”

The man’s throat bobbed as his eyes darted nervously toward the bodies, then back to her. “T– The killer—?”

“The hell are you talking about!?” She seized him by the front of his uniform and slammed him into the wall hard enough to rattle the panelling, the sound echoing off the high ceiling. “Where. Is. She.”

He stammered, words tumbling over each other, nothing resembling an answer forming. Behind him, the rest of the enforcers reacted as if on instinct, rifles snapping up to aim directly at VI.

She didn’t so much as flinch.

Her gaze swept across the barrels aimed at her, unbothered, a silent promise burning in her eyes that if one of them so much as twitched, she’d tear them apart before the first trigger pull. Her grip on the man tightened until her knuckles went bone-white, the cords in her forearms standing out like steel cables. Every line of her body radiated the same message: she was one breath away from snapping entirely.

But then, a sound cut through her fury, causing VI’s head to whip around.

A sob.

Caitlyn had folded in on herself, knees hitting the rug with a muted thud beside the sprawled, blood-stained forms of her parents. She was small like this, smaller than VI had ever seen her, her spine curved inward, trying to shield what was left of herself. One trembling hand reached out, fingers hovering inches above her mother’s sleeve… and stopped. She couldn’t bring herself to bridge the distance. Touching them would mean admitting it was real.

“Mother… Father…” Her shoulders quivered, and in the oppressive hush of the room, VI could hear it – thin, broken threads of sound that weren’t quite words. A hitch. The fragile shatter of grief that clawed its way out in ragged pieces. All too familiar.

In VI’s chest, the rage was still there: evident, pulsing hot, demanding that she keep squeezing the truth from the terrified man. 

But the sight of her…

Her grip on the enforcer slackened without realising, the man collapsing back against the wall with a startled gasp, hands flying up in surrender. She didn’t even glance at him again.

Before she knew it, VI was beside her partner, dropped into a crouch, sliding her arms around Caitlyn and pulling her; trying to hide her from the ruin around them. Her jaw locked, a fierce burn behind her eyes, but she forced it down. She didn’t have the answers she needed. Not yet. And maybe that was the worst part, holding her like this, knowing she couldn’t promise her anything. 

Except that she wasn’t letting go.

…

It had been days.

Caitlyn lay draped across VI’s lap, her body limp, her breathing shallow. She hadn’t moved in days, hadn’t spoken a single word since they’d left the bodies behind. Her once-gentle eyes stared unfocused at the wall, glassy and distant, as if any tether to the present had been cut clean through.

VI sat propped against the headboard, one arm wrapped protectively around her, the other resting gently on Caitlyn’s arm. She kept tracing slow, absent circles against her skin – part comfort, part an anchor to keep herself from flying apart. Despite her movement, it seemed she had equally disassociated.

She’d tried to coax her into eating earlier. A sip of water. A few bites of bread. But Caitlyn had only turned her face away, silent, her expression unreadable. VI had given up pushing, afraid the wrong word would shatter what fragile thread was keeping her here at all.

Her own mind, however, refused to be still.

She replayed the day in her mind, step by step, forcing herself to trace every moment as though one of them might give her the answer. Questions gnawed at her. Her gaze drifted toward the far wall, as though she could force the truth to appear there if she stared hard enough. There had to be an answer. Someone, somewhere, had to know where Powder was right now. And if… if she had been involved in this—

VI’s throat constricted, the idea wedging itself in her like a splinter she couldn’t dig out. It hurt to even brush against it.

“VI…”

Her attention sank back to the figure in her lap. Caitlyn lay unmoving, the steady rise and fall of her breathing the only sign she was still present at all. Her fingers gave the faintest twitch against VI’s thigh – so small she might not have noticed if she hadn’t been watching. Caitly stirred, her lips parting ; even speech was an uphill battle.

“What… do you want to do?”

The question caught VI off guard.

“I want to look after you,” she said, each word a deliberate choice. “And you need to rest.”

A faint shake of Caitlyn’s head, so small VI might’ve missed it if she weren’t watching every breath, every flicker. “You’re… worried about her.”

Even without a name spoken, VI knew instantly. It scraped against old wounds, and something deep in VI recoiled. The air in the room seemed to shrink, pressing in against her ribs. She didn’t answer – she didn’t know how.

Caitlyn’s hand shifted. It was a slow, dragging motion, her fingers brushing against VI’s like a leaf carried weakly by the wind. The touch sent a ripple up the shorter’s arm, pulling her eyes back.

“I’ll stick by you,” Caitlyn murmured, her voice fragile but certain. Her thumb traced the edge of VI’s knuckles in a trembling path, each pass warmer than the last. “I want to know the truth, too.”

For a long moment, VI couldn’t breathe. She could feel Caitlyn’s weight against her, the faint rise and fall of her chest, the heat of her hand like a fragile ember in her own. She bent closer, feeling the faint warmth of the young Kiramman’s breath on her chin. With a tenderness that almost felt foreign to her own battered hands, VI reached up and smoothed a loose strand of hair away from Caitlyn’s pale face. 

Words felt useless now; they’d only splinter in her mouth. So, she sat there in stillness, her calloused fingers moving slowly through Caitlyn’s hair. Each pass was careful, almost reverent, untangling silken strands while she listened to the uneven rhythm of Caitlyn’s breathing.

Gradually, the breaths began to steady, the rise and fall of her chest smoothing into a gentler pattern. Caitlyn’s lashes trembled once, twice, before lowering completely, shadows fanning across her cheeks. VI kept brushing her hair even then, as if her touch alone could ward off whatever haunted Caitlyn in her dreams.

When she was sure Caitlyn had drifted deep enough, VI shifted, slow, every movement measured to avoid waking her. She slid her arm out from beneath Caitlyn’s shoulders, feeling the faintest resistance in the weight that had been resting there. With one hand, she guided her head onto the pillow, fingers lingering just a second too long against her temple.

She stepped back, her eyes locked on the quiet form in the bed, the dim light painting her in fragile outlines.

Then, without another word, VI turned and crossed the room, her boots making no sound on the worn floorboards. She eased the door open, slipping into the hallway where the air felt colder, sharper against her skin.

Her voice was barely a whisper, meant for no one but herself.

“I have to find her.”

…

The hall outside Caitlyn’s room was dim and still, the air carrying that heavy hush of late hours when the house was meant to sleep. VI moved like a shadow, her frame barely brushing the narrow beams of moonlight slicing in through the tall windows. Her steps were slow and soundless, each boot placed with the precision of someone who’d learned long ago how to move unseen.

The door to the servants’ quarters was at the far end, its paint chipped from years of use, a narrow strip of lamplight leaking through the uneven gap. Voices drifted out in muffled threads, nervous murmurs in place of the rich laughter that was once commonplace.

Maybe if she were smarter, more level-headed, she’d think this through a little more. She wouldn’t insist on throwing herself headfirst into the first opportunity that presented itself.

But how the hell could she do that when Powder was in danger? 

She pressed the door open with the edge of her palm.

Three maids sat at a small table crowded with chipped cups and a half-empty pot of tea. Their eyes snapped to her as one. The room seemed to shrink under the weight of their sudden silence.

VI eased the door shut behind her, the muted click echoing louder than it should have in the silence that followed. The maids stiffened at the sound, their whispers dying on their tongues. VI didn’t square her shoulders or raise her voice to command attention – she didn’t need to. Presence alone did the work. She stepped forward, slow and deliberate.

Her eyes swept over them once, sharp and unblinking. “The girl,” she said, her voice level, almost quiet, but so flat with intent that the air seemed to thin around it. “Tell me where she’s being kept.”

A muscle twitched in her jaw, the only sign of the violence coiled tight inside her, but she held still. Controlled. Waiting.

“Of course you’d come sniffing after that creature.” One of the maids’ faces twisted with venom, her lip curling back. The words dripped with contempt, her disdain raw enough to make her eyes glint.

From her left, a younger voice rose, emboldened by the presence of the others. 

“The only reason you’re not rotting with her is because of Lady Kiramman’s mercy,” she snapped. Her chin tilted higher, trembling just faintly, but she pressed on. “Someone like you should be on your knees for her generosity.”

The tic in VI’s jaw returned, stronger this time, but her gaze didn’t falter. Her eyes, hard as cut stone, stayed fixed on them, unyielding. “Where,” she repeated, the word ground out with an ever-thinning restraint, “is she?”

It was the head maid who finally spoke, her voice carrying a lifelong embedded disdain. She leaned on her broom as though it were a sceptre, her gaze narrowing with a sense of authority that almost would’ve made VI bark in laughter, were the circumstances not so dire.

“She’s no girl,” the woman spat, her tone cruel in its certainty.

“She’s an animal. And she’ll be caged like one.”

Something inside VI snapped.

The distance between them vanished in a single step. Her hand shot out, clamping around the woman’s throat and slamming her back into the wall hard enough to rattle the teacups. 

The maid’s eyes went wide, her nails clawing at VI’s wrist, feet kicking against the floor as her breath caught in shallow, panicked gasps. VI’s grip tightened, the tendons in her forearm straining, her knuckles whitening with the pressure.

Her voice was low, dangerous. “Where is she?”

The maid’s lips worked soundlessly for a moment before she rasped out, broken between coughs, “Prison… in the basement… of the Council… But– you’ll never– reach her…”

VI released her abruptly. The woman sagged to the floor, wheezing, one hand braced on the wall while the other covered her bruised throat.

The other maids had pressed themselves into the corners of the room, eyes darting anywhere but at VI.

She turned her gaze on them, cold and unflinching. “If you know what’s good for you, you won’t say a damn thing about this.”

No one answered. The air was thick with the sound of the elder maid’s ragged breaths.

VI stepped back, turned, and left the room without another word. The door closed behind her, sealing the silence in. Her boots struck the hall with measured, deliberate beats, each one carrying her closer to where she needed to go.

VI shut the door to the servants’ quarters and stepped back into the dim corridor. The lingering adrenaline in her veins kept her shoulders tight, her jaw locked. She was already moving toward the main staircase when a voice stopped her.

“VI?”

—SIDE : INDIGO—

VI turned to face Caitlyn, leaning against the wall just beyond the bend in the hallway. Cheeks hollow, darkened eyes and hair a little dishevelled; her dressing gown loosely belted as the faintest pallor still clung to her skin. The sight of her, out of bed, was enough to catch VI far off guard.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” VI asked at last, her voice softer than usual, concern draped over her voice like a cloak.

Caitlyn didn’t answer right away. She simply looked at VI, her eyes tracing the lines of strain across her face, the stiffness in her shoulders, the way her hands hovered awkwardly at her sides as though unsure whether to reach out or stay clenched.

“There’s nothing to worry about,” VI blurted, too quickly, too defensively. The words dropped like stones, unconvincing even to her own ears. “Come on, let’s go back to sleep.”

She tried to cover the slip with motion, stepping toward Caitlyn with a restless urgency – half an instinct to comfort, half an attempt to bulldoze past the jagged conversation waiting at her feet. Her hand twitched as if to reach for Caitlyn’s arm, but she hesitated, caught between wanting to pull her close and wanting to push away the truth Caitlyn’s silence threatened to unearth.

Caitlyn’s lips curved into something softer, though it didn’t reach her eyes, a solemn smile, full of unspoken understanding. 

“I know you’ll do anything to find her.” The name, though unspoken, hung between them like smoke. “I want to help… I don’t want you getting yourself into trouble.”

“You don’t need to worry about me right now,” VI said, her tone firm but softening at the edges. She took a step closer, closing the space between them as though her presence alone might shield Caitlyn. “Focus on yourself. Get your strength back.”

The young Kiramman’s chin lifted, just a fraction, but enough to shift the air between them. Her eyes cooled, narrowing ever so slightly as composure slid back into place like a mask. “I’m not your sister, VI,” she replied, her voice controlled, almost detached. “You don’t need to look after me.”

The words struck sharper than Caitlyn intended, but VI didn’t flinch. Her tongue pressed against the inside of her gums tensely, her gaze locked to her partner’s. “It isn’t like that,” she finally landed on, but the words were low, untrustworthy. 

The moment held, taut as a bowstring. The markswoman’s lips parted as if to answer, to press, to cut deeper, but the silence was broken by the sharp rhythm of bootsteps echoing down the corridor.

Both women turned, their focus snapping toward the sound. An enforcer emerged from the shadows of the hallway, his uniform immaculate, every crease sharp enough to cut. He came to a halt a few paces from them, the polished visor of his helmet catching the lamplight in a cold gleam.

VI’s body shifted instinctively, her stance edging defensively. She glared, shoulders tightening as she stepped back – bracing for an intrusion.

“Councillor Kiramman,” the enforcer announced, dipping his head in a brisk, formal bow. His voice carried the clipped cadence of official duty. 

“You have a visitor.”

…

The chamber was warm but austere, its stone walls catching the low flicker of lamplight. 

Caitlyn sat with her posture slumped, neck slightly downturned, in a chair near the centre of the room as her fingers laced tightly in her lap.

Ambessa Medarda sat before her – presence a storm cloaked in discipline. Caitlyn knew nothing of the enigma in her view. But she would do her best not to let her discomfort seep so blatantly out of her disposition.

“What is your business here?” She tried a formal voice, though it was more lifeless than anything. Ambessa’s gaze lingered on her for a long moment before she leaned forward. She seemed relaxed, too relaxed for the young Kiramman’s pleasure. Why was this woman in her house?

“I don’t believe we were ever afforded the grace of meeting,” the warlord intoned, her voice deep, steady, the cadence of one used to command. “It’s a shame. Your mother and I… we were no strangers. For some time, Cassandra and I have confided in each other on matters of politics, across borders and oceans.”

The admission hit Caitlyn like a blade turned sideways. Her composure cracked, eyes widening and lips parting with disbelief. Her brows twitched as her head raised upwards ever so slightly. Though she quickly recouped, averting her gaze with an icy look. 

“Whatever confidences you shared, they ended with her death,” Caitlyn replied sharply. “Her investments have not passed to her next of kin.”

Ambessa’s laugh was low, a rumble that rolled from her chest. It wasn’t mocking, but it was disarming in its ease. “How unlike her you are. In fact, your mother came to me all business, rigid as stone. Yet, by the end, that line had all but blurred." Then, Ambessa’s expression shifted, shadowed by rare grief. “Her loss wounds me more deeply than I had expected.”

“Get to the point.” Snapped the markswoman, feeling as if Merdarda was taunting her. Did this woman seriously think this was the moment to regale her with tales of her recently deceased? How insolent!

Ambessa chuckled again, tilting her head as though amused by Caitlyn’s bluntness. “I see you have no patience for ceremony. I respect that. Don’t worry, child. I came only to offer you condolences. And, if you find yourself needing it, my support.” She folded her arms across her chest, her presence filling the room. “I know you claim your mother’s investments won’t pass on to you, but we never know what the future holds. If you do find yourself in such a predicament, know that you need not face it alone. It’s the least I can do for her.”

She shifted, turning as though to leave, her bodyguards following her motion with silent discipline. But Caitlyn’s voice caught her before she reached the door.

“Wait.”

Ambessa halted at the threshold, one broad hand braced against the cold iron handle of the door. The metal groaned faintly under her grip, as though straining against the withdrawn power in her stance. She turned, the movement carved with the weight of command. Behind her, Caitlyn had risen from her chair. “What should I do next?”

The stern mask of the warlord did not break, but it altered—subtly, like stone shaped by wind. Her expression was not softened by compassion, but by recognition, as though she acknowledged Caitlyn. 

“In Noxus,” When she spoke, her voice carried with the cadence of tradition, solemn and resolute, each word edged like steel:

“We do not lament a warrior’s death. We avenge it.”

With a final glance, Ambessa turned back to the door. She pulled it open, and the hinges wailed in protest. At once, the guards standing outside straightened and formed around her, their movements sharp and disciplined, shadows folding into her presence like extensions of her will.

Without another word, the warlord strode out, her steps reverberating down the corridor until they faded into the distance.

Caitlyn’s breath caught, shallow and uneven, as the silence closed in around her. Her gaze drifted without intention, something flickering at the edge of her vision. A glint of dull light shimmered from the shadows in the far corner of the room.

She turned her head slowly. There, peeking from a drawer, lay the enforcer’s badge she had cast aside what felt like aeons ago. The metal was scuffed, its once-polished surface marred by scratches and the grime of neglect. Yet even so, it caught the faint light of the chamber, like it was refusing to be forgotten.

She stared at it, her throat tightening. Once, it had been a promise. She remembered the pride that had steadied her hand the first time she pinned it to her chest. Where did that promise go? The pride had soured since then, eroded by betrayal, by the failures she could not unsee, by the helplessness gnawing at her even now.

And yet… here it was again, defiant in its persistence.

Part of her longed to stoop down, to reclaim it, to feel the familiar weight in her palm and anchor herself in its certainty. Another part recoiled – the part that remembered why she had cast it aside in the first place. That understood to pick it up would be to step back into the cage she had tried to escape. 

No, vengeance was Noxian law, not Piltover’s. And certainly not hers. Still, her eyes lingered on the badge until the shine blurred and her vision grew hot. 

There had to be a way to fix everything.

—SIDE : RED—

VI leaned against the doorframe of the bedroom, arms crossed loosely, eyes narrowing in anticipation. The faint hum of the city outside crept in through the cracked window, but it did nothing to dampen her focus. She had been waiting, barely able to stay still, her muscles coiled like a spring. As soon as Caitlyn’s silhouette appeared in the doorway, VI’s grin flickered.

“Thought you’d try sneaking away,” VI murmured, the words teasing, yet laced with genuine concern. Her posture shifted, ready to close the distance in a heartbeat, to catch Caitlyn if she faltered.