Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Hidden in the depths of miles of twisting and turning sewers was a tree. Where the sapling came from, no one knew—that’s what they kept telling Heimerdinger, at least... Perhaps a bird, with an acorn in its beak, swooped down and let it take root. Or perhaps some enlightened soul had a vision, and through hell and highwater raised the tree years and years ago. Either way, a tree there was. And one lad, Ekko—who kept telling Heimerdinger he was a young man, not a lad—had decided there was no place better to call his home.

There weren’t the glistening marble walls Heimerdinger was accustomed to; the beds had none of the fancy liners and silk covers; plumbing was crude compared to the state of the art bathrooms Piltover housed—yet it was inspired. Lacking superior technology forced them to think outside of the box, and utilise what was already there and manipulate it to work as they wanted. So it was safe to say Heimerdinger scarcely missed heated floors in favour of the brilliance of the place.

Inside Ekko’s lab was everything Heimerdinger had ever wanted—everything he needed to live… From supplies to build new inventions, and test out the waters of anything and everything his mind could imagine, to a pupil in Ekko, who was as much as a pupil as he was a teacher! Didn’t they say pupils taught their professors, after all?

“Say, Professor—what do you think about making your own hoverboard?” Ekko asked. 

“Oh, I’m not so sure about that, my boy,” said Heimerdinger. “I’m far too old for such a thing!” 

Ekko tittered. “You’ll be here long after I croak it.” 

“That does not make me young,” said Heimerdinger, pointing his pencil at Ekko. “What’s the saying you youngsters are always preaching—you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.” 

“You’re calling yourself a dog?” Ekko asked, an amused grin on his face.

“No… well—what I am saying is, I’ve not quite got the coordination in me anymore.” Heimerdinger prided himself in how spry he was, even for how long he’d lived, but there were things the youth were gifted that were slowly lost over time. Besides, truth be told, Heimerdinger had never been one for great co-ordination, even in his youth; that had only magnified as the centuries passed by him. 

“Nonsense, Professor,” said Ekko. “Besides, who says it needs to be like mine?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“None of the hoverboards are exactly alike—mine is different to Scar’s, for example—he’s taller than me.” 

Heimerdinger stroked his moustache. “Well… I could add a seat, and something to steer—” 

“Don’t go building a floating car.” 

Heimerdinger laughed. “It would be more me, though—don’t you think?” 

“I cannot deny that.” 

“I’ll keep it as true to your vision as I can, my boy.” 

Ekko shook his head, and sat back in his chair. He looked over to the large mural, eyes fixed on a singular point. They grew distant, not really looking at the mural anymore, but past it. A forlorn, pained look crossed his face. Such shouldn’t have ever been on a boy of nineteen—it shouldn’t have been on anyone… 

Heimerdinger followed Ekko’s gaze to a young, blue-haired girl. He’d seen Ekko do this before, especially when it was late at night. Ever the dreamer, he was. But this was no dream, it was a memory that brought him such pain. He spoke about living in the present often, but the past haunted him, so. “We do it for those we’ve lost, don’t we,” Heimerdinger mused. 

Ekko hummed. 

“What was her name, if you don’t mind me asking?” 

Ekko continued to admire the girl, eyes away in a world of their own. “Powder.” 

“A pretty name for a pretty young girl,” said Heimerdinger, “such a shame to be taken from the world so young.” 

“She’s not…”

“What do you mean?” 

“It’s complicated.” 

“She isn’t dead?” Heimerdinger clarified.

“She’s… Jinx now.” 

“ That girl… she’s the terror—” Heimerdinger cut himself off. That wasn’t the right thing to say. More tact should be used for a topic of this magnitude.

“Yeah, she’s the terrorist Piltover has been beside themselves to find, alright,” Ekko said anyway. “And she’s the reason my leg was busted when we met.” 

“Oh…” 

“As I said, it’s complicated.” 

Ekko had been vague about why his leg had been broken when they’d met. Even in the weeks after it, as the break healed and Ekko began to walk again, he kept it close to his chest. Heimerdinger understood why, now. 

“Yet you still look at her so fondly…” Heimerdinger mused. 

“She’s abhorrent. She’s a monster—” 

“You love her.” 

Ekko scoffed and stood from his chair, dashing his gaze away from the painted girl and out to the rest of the firelight base. “I don’t love Jinx,” he swore. “How could I love such a person— why would I love such a person?” 

“Are you asking me that, or yourself?” Heimerdinger asked. 

Ekko’s voice caught in his throat, coming out in a frustrated grunt. 

“Y’know, I once taught a pupil…” 

“You don’t say,” Ekko snarked. 

Heimerdinger chuckled. “Believe it or not, it’s true… this young man, not much older than you, walked into the University with promising ideas… he had such a wonderful mind! He ended up working with me directly, bringing about changes to Piltover like we’d never seen… and then one day his wife and child were murdered, and his wonderful ideas were warped and twisted until I didn’t recognise him anymore.” 

And ‘murdered’ was putting it lightly. What happened to that poor young family was nothing short of tragic. It wasn’t something Heimerdinger would wish upon his worst of enemies—even if now you could say that his ex-pupil held that prestigious title… 

“Why are you telling me this?” Ekko asked. 

“Because even though he did abhorrent things, and I do mean abhorrent… twisted experiments, attempting to disrupt the natural order of things…” Heimerdinger shook his head. “I dare not say what… But, despite all that—beneath the monster he became—I still feel love for him in my heart. For that man he was, and still could be.” 

“I don’t love Jinx,” Ekko repeated. 

Heimerdinger sighed. This pain of Ekko’s was too fresh for him to bear. Only time would soothe the ache in his heart. “There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t wish I had repaired my relationship with my pupil, Ekko… It’s too late for me to do that, unfortunately. But it isn’t for the two of you.” 

“You don’t understand, Professor. She tried to kill me— I tried to kill her… she brings out the worst in me.”

“And the best, too.” 

“What part of murder don’t you get?” 

“If you think in all my long years I haven’t thought of murder, Ekko, you’re sorely mistaken. I’ve been a part of wars you couldn’t dream up. I’ve seen the worst of all races in my long years on this here planet,” said Heimerdinger. “And not once have I seen someone beyond saving—beyond loving.”

“Jinx is that, Professor. Her and her now dead father-figure—”

“You built this sanctuary for her, didn’t you?” said Heimerdinger, cutting Ekko’s tirade off. “And you continue to build even though, as you say, she’s gone.” 

Ekko took a moment to answer Heimerdinger. His eyes had cast themselves back to the portrait of Powder. Heimerdinger wondered if Ekko even knew he was doing it—if the boy knew just how much he admired that damn portrait. 

“I tried to build the dream she and I had when we were kids,” Ekko admitted quietly. “A place devoid of sadness, where people didn’t go hungry. Where we could spend all day and night inventing without worry in the world…” 

“I believe you’ve achieved that.” 

“No… no, I haven’t.” 

“But—” 

“It was meant to be the entire undercity like this, not some hideout away from it.” 

“And what’s stopping you from doing that?” 

“Powder’s not with me anymore.” 

“Then why don’t you do it for her?” said Heimerdinger. “And perhaps it might bring her back to you.” 

“And if it doesn’t?” 

“We’ll get to that when we get to that.”

*

In the following days, Ekko was far more reserved with Heimerdinger than he had been. It was almost as if their relationship had gone back to their first meeting when they’d met under the bridge. It didn’t surprise Heimerdinger, he’d seen this before in many of his students. It was the nature of things. To break past boundaries like that there were always times when it seemed like everything was hopeless, only for things to work out far, far quicker than anticipated. 

Ekko had spent more time alone and in his own room stowed away at the top of his tree. The only thing that wasn’t so good about the self-reflection that would allow, was the fact Ekko wasn’t eating—well, at the very least he wasn’t eating with everyone else. But Heimerdinger knew that it’d only be a matter of time before things were back to a state of semi-normal. 

So, Heimerdinger had used the time to observe the Firelights more. Their way of life was fascinating. It truly was a sanctuary. And now, with Ekko’s confession of its origins, Heimerdinger looked upon it all with new eyes. 

It was a bright new day when Heimerdinger waddled over to the quaint lab he’d spent almost every waking hour at. In Ekko’s absence, he’d spent time drawing up blueprints for his own hoverboard. There was something about trying to keep it in-keeping with the rest of the group, whilst personalising it to his own needs. Heimerdinger held up the blueprints in front of him, admiring the design he’d spent the prior day making. It was best described as a scooter, scaled to fit a yordle’s size and stature far better than the large hoverboards. 

“You’re making your own?” a deep, guttural voice asked. 

Heimerdinger turned, and smiled at his latest visitor—Scar. “Ekko thought I should,” he said jovially. 

“‘Kids got many ideas… not sure all of them are good ones.” 

Heimerdinger chuckled. “That’s why they’re ideas!” he said. “We cannot have perfection without filtering out the kinks—and, sometimes, if you’re lucky, the kinks are a part of that perfection.”

“I’m not sure Ekko agrees with that sentiment.” 

Heimerdinger waved Scar off. “He’s young. He thinks everything must be perfect, but that’s never the case. It’s in those imperfections, I find, that we find the most enjoyment—the greatest reward!” He gestured around them. “Look at this place, it’s surrounded by what many call imperfections, and yet here it stands, bolstered by all that.” 

Scar shook his head with an amused grin. “We were going to eat breakfast, if you’d like to join us.” 

Heimerdinger hummed, his thoughts went to Ekko. “I think I’ll take it up to Ekko, see if he’s ready for a chat.” 

Scar nodded. 

After greeting the rest of the Firelights 'good morning’, Heimerdinger—armed with two steaming bowls of porridge and a couple slices of buttered toast and his assembly drawing of his ‘hover-scooter’ on a tray—braved the stairs to meet with Ekko. 

He wasn’t worried. There was nothing to worry about, yet there was something to think about with Heimerdinger’s last few brilliant pupils … He’d not had a lasting relationship with them for a few reasons, which all stemmed from clashing ideals and visions of how things should go. 

Up the steep stairs not made for a Yordle, and to the top room of the tree, Heimerdinger knocked on Ekko’s door and waited for a response. Ekko was an early riser, and he knew he was awake. Whether he decided to answer was another question entirely. After a moment of waiting without response, Heimerdinger called out. “I brought breakfast, lad!” 

There was another beat of silence on the other side, before the door opened to reveal Ekko. 

Heimerdinger pushed past him, and placed the breakfast tray at the foot of Ekko’s bed. The room was somewhat small, with a bed and a desk and not much else. The walls were decorated with graffiti, and his desk was stacked high with books and assembly drawings of various different inventions. Heimerdinger had never been in the room before—he wasn’t sure anyone had. 

Ekko stood in the doorway awkwardly, hands hung heavily at his sides. 

Heimerdinger paid him little mind, continuing to look around the room in amazement. That was until he took interest in Ekko’s ceiling, wanting to see what light fixture the boy had installed, only to be met with something he’d not imagined… 

Painted on the ceiling like an angel was a detailed portrait of Powder. But it wasn’t Powder. She was older, had tattoos snaking the length of her arms to her torso. Her eyes were her most defining feature, a brilliant, excellent blue—they held that heavy look Ekko often donned, there was a sadness to them, yet an innocence like none other, too. They looked down upon Ekko’s bed, directly where Ekko’s head should lay when he fell asleep, with love Ekko must wish she held for him… This was Jinx? Heimerdinger thought. This was the monster Piltover had been beside themselves to find? Another thought crossed his mind: Why on earth would Ekko have her on his ceiling? 

Heimerdinger looked at him.

Ekko cast his gaze away, unspeaking. He shut the door behind him and took a seat next to the ever cooling breakfasts. 

Heimerdinger could scarcely remember a time he’d been utterly speechless. Now was that time. It was one thing to paint a portrait of a young girl down where a community mourned their dead, it was another entirely to paint her above your head like an angel looking over you …

Ekko cleared his throat. He was holding out one of the bowls of porridge to Heimerdinger. 

“Thank you, lad,” said Heimerdinger, as he took the bowl. 

“You could’ve had food with the others,” Ekko said quietly. 

“And leave you alone?” Heimerdinger shook his head. “No no, I’d rather have it with you.” 

“Great.” Ekko smiled small. 

Heimerdinger chuckled. Perhaps it was best to leave the angelic portrait for another time. “Would you like to see my hoverboard design?” he asked, gesturing to the rolled up assembly drawing on the tray. 

“You actually designed one?” Ekko asked as he swept the drawing up. 

“You asked if I would.” 

Ekko surveyed Heimerdinger with surprise, then tittered, shook his head and unrolled the drawing, looking upon it with hungry, eager eyes.

“Not a floating car,” Heimerdinger chimed. 

“No, not at all,” said Ekko, still soaking up the design. “Yet it’s all you.”

“I thought a scooter design would help me balance.” 

Ekko nodded. “We could use this design for the children.”

Heimerdinger smiled. Ekko continuously looked to improve the lives of those around him, and this was the latest in that. “I’ll need to refine the design a bit more—” 

“Don’t go spending weeks on it,” Ekko butt in. “If there's an issue, you can always tweak it after the fact.” 

Heimerdinger laughed. “Of course lad, don’t think I don’t know to get the desired results a few hiccups always pop up.” 

“Good,” said Ekko, placing the drawing back on his bed and picking up his bowl of porridge and a slice of toast. “I think you’re really onto something here, and I’d like to see it come to life within my lifetime…” 

“I think you’ll see a great deal in your short life, my boy,” said Heimerdinger, “I can’t see any other destiny for you.”

Chapter Text

Jinx’s hideaway had once been just that. Only two other than her knew of it, and only one used to take the time to come down to it—and only when he needed something from her. Never to just talk; never to just spend time with her. She had always gone to him for that. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t play with her, but he’d always been one to give her space. Too much space sometimes—especially for one so young. Jinx had only ever wanted to be beside him at all times. 

She supposed that was why she spent so much time with Isha. The third person, now, to know of her hideaway. The little girl was sleeping in her lap, snoring peacefully without wrinkle across her brow. Since their fight with Vi, she’d not spent a moment without her. They did everything together. Jinx was happy to oblige. It gave her something to do—a purpose. Even if Jinx wasn’t quite sure what that purpose really meant. It hadn’t dawned on her why this little girl provoked such a reaction in her. But Jinx had seldom felt the feelings she felt for Isha. 

Jinx stroked Isha’s hair, smiling idly and without care. She wondered if this was what Vi felt for her when they were young. Had she spent sleepless nights cradling little Powder, as Jinx now cradled little Isha? 

Did her heart sing soft lullabies? 

Isha had fallen asleep to the lullaby Jinx had hummed. It was one Jinx’s mother used to sing. Soft and warm, it was a blissful memory of a simpler time. Jinx wished to give Isha those memories now… She only hoped it would remain constant through Isha’s life, unlike Jinx’s. Perhaps that was part of the purpose she now felt—to give Isha what she never had. 

As evening turned to night, sleep continued to elude Jinx. Sleep had never come to her easily. Not since she was Isha’s age. The past haunted her dreams, made them nightmares. It had been easier to hide herself away in her inventions than face them. And even with Isha they remained… 

Jinx looked over to her desk, filled with half-built things. They were all toys for Isha; old paint and glitter bombs that entertained the girl, and other things more fitting for a young girl. But Isha cared little for them in comparison to Jinx’s weapons. Especially her pistols. 

Ever since the fight with Vi, Isha had taken to stealing Jinx’s weapons whenever she could. Which was often. She managed to grab them without Jinx noticing more often than not—even now that Jinx had enhanced senses from the Doctor’s meddling…

The door to her hideaway opened slowly. Jinx slipped her hand from Isha’s hair and onto her gun. 

“It’s me,” said Sevika, then stepped from behind the door, as if she knew Jinx had her hand on the gun. “Brought food,” she added. And she had; in her good arm she held a somewhat large box, of what Jinx assumed was from Jericho’s. It was something she’d brought when she wanted something off of Jinx, knowing damn well it was her favorite. 

Jinx scoffed and let go of the gun. She wasn’t about to take the bait. “A bit late for that,” she said, careful not to wake Isha. 

“Got caught up,” said Sevika. 

“At a brothel?” 

“With the Chem-Barons…” 

Jinx frowned. “Thought they disbanded…” 

“Just because I killed Smeech, doesn’t mean they disbanded.” 

“Didn't the wheelchair bloke die too?—Vi’s fault, that one.” A wasn’t that true—using the grey to usurp what little control they had over Zaun had left people reeling. “And then whats-her-name… the crazy bitch with the dead kid—Renni.”

“Chross lived,” Sevika said as she grabbed the chair from Jinx’s desk, came to sit with Jinx and Isha, and placed the box of food in her lap. The thick stench of liquor wafted from Sevika, and Jinx spotted the half-drunk bottle tucked into the woman's armpit. 

“Huh,” murmured Jinx, “tougher cookie than I thought.”

“You should’ve seen him when he wasn’t in a wheelchair.”

That story could wait for another time. Or never. Jinx didn’t really care for cripples. “Who does that leave—Chem-Barons, I mean.” 

“Chross and Margot,” said Sevika, unsheathing the bottle from her armpit and ripping the cork from its housing using her teeth. She glugged down a gobful. 

“And you.” 

Sevika wiped at her mouth with her forearm, grunting. “I’m not one of them.” 

“You might as well be,” said Jinx, snatching up the box of Jericho’s fish Sevika had gotten her. 

Sevika leant back in the chair. “If that’s the case, then so should you.” 

Jinx frowned. She wasn’t one of them—wasn’t made to be a leader. That was Vi. Or even Ekko nowadays, with his gang of Firelights that he led with surprising efficiency... Not Jinx. “Hardly,” she said, poking at the greasy fish with her newly metal finger.  

“They need someone to rally behind, like they did with Silco,” said Sevika. 

“Not me.” 

“Who else?” 

“I dunno. Just not me,” said Jinx. “Go find someone else to fuck the Pilties up.” 

“No one does it like you.” 

“I can kill them. That’s about it.” 

“You’re more than that,” said Sevika.

“I don’t want to be.” 

Sevika gave Jinx a look, then flicked her eyes down to Isha in Jinx’s arms. “Silco never told you why he and Vander made Zaun, did he?” 

“He wanted freedom—” 

Sevika shook her head, chuckling. “Why did he want freedom, kid?” she asked. Sevika grabbed a piece of fish from Jinx and slurped it up greedily. 

Jinx curled her lip at the sight. “Because he wanted power?” she asked. It didn’t sound right. He’d spoken of taking what was theirs much, but never really had a good reason for it. Not one he’d told her at least. 

“Yes. But there was a reason he wanted that—why Vander wanted that, before his betrayal ,” said Sevika, saying the last word mockingly, as if she didn’t believe Vander really betrayed Silco. “It was for your mother—and you and Vi and all those children who were kept under Piltover’s boot.” 

“Yeah, right,” Jinx scoffed. “Silco wanted power for power's sake.”

“That’s the perversion of his reasoning he told you after your parents’ death. Not the reason he really wanted it.” 

“But he killed kids—many kids,” said Jinx. “Why would he kill kids in his quest for this power if the power was meant to help them?” 

“So why didn’t he kill you?” 

Jinx grinded her mouth. “I reminded him of himself.” 

“You reminded him of his real goal. He didn’t lie when he told you he was doing it for you. Just that he neglected to mention why.” 

“So why are you telling me this?” Jinx asked. “He’s dead. Piltover is patrolling the streets more and more—” 

“And so you need to take up his legacy.” 

“I already told you I’m not becoming their martyr.” 

“You already are,” said Sevika. “You’ve refused to go out and look in the streets, but you’ve already become that martyr with your paint stunt… Soon enough you’ll have to accept that.” 

“I don’t want to—” 

“You’ll need to,” said Sevika. “For her.” 

Jinx looked down to Isha. She stroked her hair again. “I can’t protect Isha if I’m off running Zaun,” she said, eyes going back to Sevika. 

“It’s the only way you can protect her.”

Jinx shook her head. She didn’t want to believe it. This couldn’t be her destiny. Her eyes flickered down to Isha again. Where had it all changed? She had nothing a few weeks ago, and now she was being told Zaun was hers to rule—for a kid she’d gotten lumbered with, no less! “I can’t do it alone,” she admitted meekly. 

Sevika sighed, and smiled sadly. “You won’t have to. I’ll be here, like I was for Silco. Together we’ll right it all.” 

Jinx forced a smile, continuing to stroke Isha’s hair carefully. Sevika’s words were nice, they were a promise she’d have at least someone helping her. But they weren’t what Jinx wanted. And, in truth, Jinx didn’t know what she wanted… Having Sevika there by her side meant what it did when Silco was running things—she was a henchwoman. Someone that did the dirty work. The decisions rested on Silco, not Sevika, and though she may be of some help when it came to those decisions, Jinx needed someone to share the burden with, properly. 

Sevika let the topic go after Jinx didn’t respond to her, and they ate in mostly silence, with the occasional off-hand remark spoken intermittently. The night spent with Sevika was pleasant enough, but it came with news and needs which made it almost unbearable. So it was with great relief Sevika left, somewhat haggard and stumbling to wherever she would lay for the night. It wouldn’t come as any surprise to Jinx if that meant a brothel, but she didn’t ask, nor want to know. 

*

The next morning came around quickly, with Isha tugging at Jinx’s shirt. 

“What’d you want?” Jinx grumbled, trying to keep her eyes shut a second longer by scrunching them closed as tight as she could. 

Isha continued to tug at Jinx’s shirt. 

“Fine!” she said, opening her eyes. 

Isha let go of her shirt and grabbed something out of Jinx’s sight. 

Jinx sat herself up. “What are you doing?” 

Isha held up the empty box of Jericho’s Jinx and Sevika had eaten the night before, pointing at it with a mix of annoyance and expectancy. 

“Not my fault you weren’t awake,” Jinx said, throwing off the blanket and getting out of bed, looking down at Isha with her hands on her hips. “But I guess … you expect me to go take you there, since you missed out.”

Isha nodded firmly. 

Jinx gave her an amused grin, and shook her head. “Nothing but the best for the little princess, huh.” 

Isha strode across the room. Jinx grabbed for her gun and followed, sheathing the gun on her belt. Isha went to the desk, and picked up a second pistol Jinx had been making, turning to look at Jinx. 

Jinx shook her head. “No, we’re not bringing that,” she said. “I’ve got mine and that’ll be more than enough.” 

Isha pouted. 

“That won’t work with me,” said Jinx, more to herself than Isha. Truth be told, that pout had worked more than she liked to admit. “Put it down.” 

Isha didn’t. Of course she didn’t. She continued to pout and it tested Jinx’s resolve. 

“It doesn’t even work yet!” said Jinx gruffly. 

Isha huffed and put the gun back. 

“Thank you,” said Jinx, stepping forward and putting Isha’s miner’s helmet on the little girl's head. She then took Isha’s hand in hers, but not before slipping on her grey cloak she’d begun to wear to keep people from recognising her. 

Jinx took Isha up from their hideaway and toward Jericho’s. As it was located far off from the rest of Zaun, deep in the fissures and away from prying eyes, it took them a while before they were in the lanes, and among people. But once they were, Jinx could already feel wandering eyes on her. 

Whether they knew who she was or not didn’t matter. Rather, Jinx realised, she worried that they were targets—easy pickings. Jinx wasn’t exactly a big person, unlike Sevika, and didn’t command respect from her body alone. And, with Isha beside her, they just looked like two young girls that were in over their heads… Of course, if anyone knew it was Jinx, they’d have kept a healthy distance. Especially now that it was known what she’d done to not only the council, but to Silco and Smeech’s men. 

She continued down the lanes, keeping tight hold of Isha’s hand. More for her peace of mind than anything. Isha wouldn’t leave her side in a place like this. If anything, had Jinx not been holding her hand, the girl would be clung to her leg. 

Thankfully, as the streets busied, and they got closer and closer to Jericho’s, they began to blend in with the crowd. Zaun was a busy place, with people bumbling all over without much care for the next. Especially down the main part, where all the markets and shops were. 

Down Zaun’s highstreet was where Jericho’s resided. Almost in the centre of it all, along with the Last Drop. Jinx would take Isha to the Last Drop to see Sevika once they’d eaten—she liked to spend time with her, and vice versa. Whatever Sevika had planned for the day could be put on the back burners for a while. 

They made it to Jericho’s, and slipped through the doors. The place was busy, but not overly so, and Jinx led Isha to the counter, where she helped the girl climb into one of the high-seats before taking a seat herself. 

Jinx didn’t take off her hood, and made sure to tuck her braids away as her back was to the door. She wished the seat Isha was sitting in was closer, but that was just paranoia talking, and Jinx squashed the thought as Jericho came over to greet them. 

The large fish-man smiled broadly as he saw her, and began to work away to give both Jinx and Isha a bowl of fish each without a word. It was the only reason Jinx agreed to take Isha. Jericho understood the need for privacy. Especially now. And would treat them as any other customer. That, and the fact he didn’t ever make Jinx pay—no matter what she ordered. She’d have thought that was because she was under Silco’s care, but he’d given her—and Vi, Mylo, Claggor and Ekko—free food for as long as she could remember. So it must’ve been a Vander thing. 

Jinx thanked Jericho as he gave them their bowls, and she kicked Isha to force her to thank him using sign-language—which she did after giving Jinx a look. 

Jericho went off to serve the next customers without a word.

Jinx picked at her food as she watched Isha eat. She’d been making sure Isha was eating enough now that Jinx was looking after her. Which, inadvertently, had made Jinx eat more herself. Today wasn’t one of those days. Her conversation with Sevika the prior night hung over her heavily. 

Why was she so adamant Jinx needed to lead Zaun? 

Silco had hardly trained her for such. He’d helped make her the monster Piltover feared, that was all. A henchwoman, crafted to ensure Zaun and all its business ran smoothly. She was more of a Sevika than a Silco. If he’d wanted her to take over the reigns, he should’ve told her—should’ve taught her how. 

But maybe he had… Jinx hadn’t always listened, and, moreover, she hadn’t wanted to. Just like now. Vi was always who Vander had wanted to lead Zaun. He may not have said it, but it’d been clear enough. She was the leader of their group, and many others.  

Isha tugged at Jinx’s cloak. 

“What?” Jinx asked. 

Isha pointed at Jinx’s food. Jinx noticed Isha’s bowl was already empty. 

“Oh, go on,” said Jinx, taking a piece of fish for herself and pushing the bowl over for Isha to eat. “What would you do without me, eh?” she smiled. 

Isha tucked into Jinx’s bowl happily. Jinx continued to watch her with a smile. Once she was done, Jinx helped her hop down from the highchair and said her goodbyes to Jericho—forcing Isha to do the same—and made her way to the Last Drop. 

It wasn’t a long walk to the bar. They could see it from Jericho’s door. But with the amount of people walking around it wasn’t the easiest place to get to. 

“Where’re you off to little lady?” a gruff voice asked from behind Jinx. 

Jinx took hold of her pistol under her cloak and turned. She didn’t speak. The leering man was far larger than Jinx, but he didn’t scare her—she’d killed larger men, and sent even larger ones running for the hills. If he so much as made another move for her, she’d send this one running too. 

But that wasn’t needed. When he caught a glimpse of her face, he stepped back, holding his hands up. “I—I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean it.” 

Jinx cocked her head, her one hand still gripped Isha’s forcefully, and the other cocked her pistol's hammer. “Are you?” she asked silkily. 

“Yes, yes, Miss Jinx,” he said. “I didn’t realise—” 

“And if it weren’t me?” she asked. “What then?” 

“I… I—I—” the man stuttered and stumbled over his words. “I—” 

Jinx’s lip curled. “You’d do good to not do it again, wouldn’t you?” 

The man nodded frantically. “Yes!” he sang. “Never.”

“That is correct,” said Jinx. “Now fuck off. I’ve got stuff to do.” 

The man nodded, and scurried off and away without another word, darting into a nearby alley and out of sight. 

Jinx sighed a sigh of relief and looked down at Isha, who looked at her with admiration. If only the girl knew what Jinx had done to earn such respect. “Come on,” said Jinx, “I bet Sevika will be happy to see you.”

Chapter Text

The flames of his forge had never felt so cold as they did now. The cold was empty. It nipped at his heart, trying ever so hard to freeze it over. Jayce thought it might be working.

The two who’d fueled the flames of his heart were gone. One having left him, and the other disappeared without so much a trace. Jayce wasn’t sure which hurt worse. Both, he supposed. But that wasn’t true. Being so close to someone, as Jayce had been to Viktor, and having them leave was worse than losing someone from matters out of your control. The sting of abandonment was a knife to the heart. So Jayce threw himself into work. Work that had little purpose without Viktor’s touch. More and more Caitlyn came to him, demanding Hextech weaponry he could hardly refuse. No doubt she’d be back again soon—for Ambessa, who too wanted Hextech weaponry from him. She kept saying ‘for Mel’ over and over; as if, somehow, with some insane weapon would bring her back… 

Jayce had half a mind to disappear too. In a way, with these constant requests, he was. What he was doing wasn’t him. It wasn’t what he and Viktor had set out to do all those years ago. But now it was all he was doing—all he could do. 

He bashed against the latest weapon as hard as he could. It shattered. Good, he thought. It was better broken than in use. 

It was times like these that Mel would come to him, wrap her warm arms around him from behind and rest her head on his back. He would place a hand on her protective arms, and surrender himself to her. Oh, how he needed that now, but knew the arms would never come… 

 Jayce brought his hammer down against the anvil again, gritting his teeth, willing the hammer to crash through the anvil—break it so he’d no longer have to forge more weapons. 

It didn’t happen. 

He sighed, let the hammer drop to the floor, and then slumped down against the anvil, head in hands. Where had it all gone wrong? Jayce supposed it came long before he’d lost everything. Before Viktor had fallen ill. That long ago? He thought. Jayce knew it was true, even if he didn’t want to believe it. Viktor had been right—they’d been growing apart for a long, long time before they’d parted ways. But did that really mean they couldn’t mend their relationship?

Jayce heard footsteps coming to him. He didn’t have the strength to stand, so he waited, broken and weak on the floor for them to find him. 

It was Caitlyn who rounded the corner, wearing that god awful cloak Ambessa had given her. Her face was cold and cruel and not anything like the smiley young girl he’d watch grow up. “Jayce,” she said, “what on earth are you doing?” 

Jayce grunted. “Broke the knives, what does it look like?” 

“Yes, I see that… but what’s got you sitting on the floor not doing your job?” Caitlyn sounded much like the dictator she’d become. “You’re of no use on the floor.”

“I needed a break.” 

Caitlyn sniffed, and stepped over. “Don’t we all…” 

“I’ve been working day and night, Cait,” said Jayce pitifully. “I’m allowed a moment.”

“Every moment you waste grovelling, the undercity grows more defiant.” 

“Even with half the weapons I’ve given you, you could trounce the undercity,” said Jayce. It’s not about that anymore, is it? He asked wordlessly. 

Caitlyn stilled, standing as straight as a board. She’d always heard his unsung pleas. “Jinx continues to slip from our grasp, and the undercity rally behind her.”

“Then go and find her!” Jayce yelled, more pleading than demanding. He got to his feet. “You have more than you need.” 

Caitlyn’s dictatorial resolve faltered for a moment. She looked away, trying to regain composure. It was the first time he’d seen her falter since she’d lost her mum and parted ways with Vi. She was strong—too strong sometimes… 

“Cait…” he whispered, stepping for her. 

Caitlyn stepped away. She dared not look at him. 

“This is Ambessa talking, not you…” 

Caitlyn’s head darted over her shoulder, searching the entryway as if someone was there—listening. 

“There’s no one here, Cait,” Jayce said, yet even he couldn’t help but keep his voice low, as if someone were listening. “We’re alone.” Somehow he didn’t believe it. For why he couldn’t say—Caitlyn must’ve made him paranoid too. 

Caitlyn shook her head. She didn’t speak. A shaky hand darted into her cloak, and she took another furtive, almost scared glance behind her before she took out a note. 

“W—” 

“ Quiet! ” she hissed low, handing him the letter, regaining her formal composure. She stood tall, firm in her resolve. “You will continue to arm Piltover,” she commanded, almost robotic. “And you will continue to do so until I say otherwise—no more of these wasteful breaks. Not until Jinx is under lock and key.” 

“I—” 

“There is nothing more to say. Do your job.” 

And Jayce did. He’d stowed the letter away from any prying eyes in the walls and continued his tiresome work. He did this until the sun came in the morning. And when it did, it was only then he decided it was time to leave. Usually that meant sleep. Now it meant finding somewhere he could read this letter in private. 

It took him half the night to figure out where that might be. But he figured there was only one place he could go that wouldn’t rouse suspicion, that was as private as it got—where he had interrupted Viktor’s suicide attempt. Not that he’d known that at the time. It had only occurred to him once Viktor had left. When he’d had a long, long time to think away from it all, trying his best to piece together where it’d all gone wrong. 

Jayce had never been one for self reflection. But he’d found it was all he had been doing as of late. And yet he knew all his decisions were still wrong, even with this self-reflection. 

He should’ve destroyed the Hexcore like Viktor had asked. Should’ve shut the production down of Hextech weaponry. And, most of all, he should’ve shut down the Hexgates whilst he was still in authority. 

Looking out over the ledge where all these thoughts had been born, he peered down at the undercity. Jayce imagined what his broken promises wrought down there. All the weapons he’d supplied to Piltover—and Noxus, by proxy—were no doubt doing damage like none other, or readying to do damage like none other. It was a perversion of what he and Viktor had once dreamed up. That the undercity could too look like Piltover, and they become one. 

Jayce took the note out from his pocket, unfolded it, and began to read: 

The Vyx

Jayce scoffed. He flipped the note over, checking to see if anything else was there. There wasn’t. He recognised it as one of the establishments owned by some Chem-Baron Silco ordered around. No doubt it was no good. Whatever it was. And no doubt it was deep in the undercity where Jayce was a massive target.

Caitlyn couldn’t expect for him to go there, could she? That place was running with undercity scum. All manners of people could be there—people who would no doubt recognise Jayce as the ‘Man Of Progress’. God, Cait, he thought, why would you ask this of me? 

Jayce yawned. He had half a mind to burn this note and leave it at that. Go to sleep and hope this was nothing more than a dream. But Caitlyn’s behaviour had told him it wasn’t. He needed to go. Tonight. 

And so Jayce did. But not before looking over some maps in his apartment to see where the least conspicuous way to get down to the undercity was. He couldn’t go across the bridge—the Enforcers patrol that night and day now; and he couldn’t take the other methods for similar reasons. But if Caitlyn said he needed to go there, surely there was a way to get down there unseen… 

He’d need to go on foot, Jayce decided. He crafted a path down, and ingrained it in his head. He found some drab clothes that covered himself and his face, and took to the streets of Piltover during the day. 

Piltover was crammed with people and cars as he went; it was hard to keep track of any one person. It was somewhat close to the undercity, in a way, but you didn’t feel like any one of these people might come up to you for nefarious reasons—like wishing to mug you for whatever you had. 

The undercities tendencies was the reason why Jayce had taken with him his little hammer he used to forge Hextech weapons. It was tucked into his thick overcoat, and he kept a hidden hand on it at all times. And once he began to descend into the fissures, and see less than ideal people, his grip on it tightened more and more. 

The further he descended, the worse everywhere got. Jayce wished he’d worn a mask to help him breathe but that would only draw more attention to him. The way he was descending compared to the others around him drew more than enough attention as it was. He didn’t have the coordination many of the undercity populus did. He watched kids of no older than twelve slide down the side of the fissures without so much as breaking a sweat, meanwhile he was panting and gritting his teeth as he did. 

Jayce was glad his face was covered. 

Down and down he went, as the air thickened and Jayce began to grow purple in the face from both the exertion and the lack of breathable air. He couldn’t have been happier to see the main highstreet, and get onto it. Something he’d never have imagined thinking even a day ago.

He went off to some side alley to catch his breath, clutching his hammer in his hand. 

“Where’re you off to little lady?” a gruff voice spoke out in the highstreet, catching Jayce’s attention. He looked to see who was saying it, some massive balding man with a leer on his face. Jayce didn’t quite see the faces of the two girls the leering man was speaking to, but no sooner as the leer appeared on his face, did a scared wide-eyed look replace it. “I—I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it.”

Jayce frowned. The larger of the girls couldn’t have been half the leering man’s size, and the smaller half of her size still. And yet the man looked ready to bolt from her at a moment's notice. He continued to apologise as the larger girl rasped and barked order’s at him until he was allowed to go. He darted from her, and toward the alley Jayce had taken refuge in. 

The leering man was in such a hurry, he ran into Jayce, sending them both crashing to the floor. 

“Watch it!” said Jayce, getting to his feet. 

“Sorry, sorry!” the leering man—who hadn’t been leering for a long while now—said. “I didn’t mean it!” 

Jayce frowned. “Who were you just talking to?” he asked before he could think better of it. 

The leering man regained some composure, clambering heavily to his feet. “I… what’s it to you?” he asked.

“Just curious to understand how two little girls could send someone like you running to the hills, is all,” said Jayce. 

“Are you a copper?” the man asked, growing more certain of himself. “I won’t talk to coppers.” 

A copper ? “Do I look like an Enforcer to you?” 

“I dunno!” said the man. “The lot of you dress differently now.”

Jayce looked at his own clothes. Could undercity folk not tell him apart from the Enforcers—did he need to get new clothes? “I’m not an Enforcer,” he said. 

“Well, you look like one!” said the man. “And act like one! Asking all these questions… it’s bad enough when you were patrolling the streets—now all you want is to take the pittance in our pockets too!—or w orse , ship us off to Stillwater without cause.”

“Just tell me who they were,” said Jayce, deciding not to address the comments of Enforcers taking these poor peoples money. 

“No!” said the man resolutely. “I won’t!” 

“You’re more scared of them than me?” he asked. 

The man grinded his teeth. “You won’t kill me,” said the man simply. “She will.” 

“Fine,” said Jayce. “Could you tell me where I could find The Vyx?” he asked. “I’m a bit lost.” 

The man laughed. “Ha! That’s why you Piltie trash has come down ‘ere, eh?” he said, continuing to laugh as he spoke—as if it were the funniest thing in the world. “I’d bet you don’t have them up there do you?” he said. 

Have what, Jayce wondered. He didn’t say his thoughts, but nodded. 

The man laughed harder. “You lot act all better than us, yet can’t help yourselves when it comes to a bit of pleasure!” he said, “out this alley, and toward the Last—sorry, the Eye of Zaun—and then the alley to it’s right. Go down some steps and you’ll find a red door.” 

“Thank you.” 

The man shook his head. “No! Thank you—you’ve made my week! Ha! The Vyx! Can’t believe it!” And with that last sentiment, the man bounded off down the alley, his step far more spry and quick than it should’ve been for someone of his size, and out of sight. 

Jayce sighed, what an odd man… He looked out to the street to see if he could catch a glimpse of the two girls and follow them—to see who they were for himself—but they were gone. The street was busy, but Jayce managed to spot this ‘Eye of Zaun’ the man had said and went for it. 

It was now that Jayce noticed the flyers of Jinx covering each and every wall. Which was bad enough, until he noticed all the graffiti around it. It was all of Jinx, drawn as a savior—like a god. Caitlyn had been right… They were looking at Jinx as some kind rallying point. He thought of the conversation he’d just had with the leering man, who’d refused him, thinking he was an Enforcer. God, when did it get so bad down here? 

Jayce had only come down here once. To get some supplies for the original Hextech inventions. That was a long time ago now. He remembered that the ‘Eye of Zaun’ was once a bar called the Last Drop—he’d passed it to get to the shop where he’d met some kid selling all sorts of wonderful items for a brilliant price. It seemed that those times had long gone. 

Jayce found the alley that the man spoke of, and went down it. He looked around for the stairs, and found them and at the bottom was the red door. He steeled himself, and knocked. 

An eye hole opened, and he was looked at by a bulging eye. “Mask off!” it demanded. 

Jayce obliged slowly. 

“Hood off!” it added. 

“Jayce looked up the stairs, making sure no one was looking. He obliged. 

The person grunted. The eye hole shut. 

Jayce was about to argue, but the door opened. He entered quickly, and the door closed behind him. He didn’t see the bulging eye again. The hallway he entered smelt… damp—musty. It was thin and long, and covered oddly. Jayce walked down it, trying to figure out why Caitlyn would’ve sent him here. 

The first door he came to, he realised where he was. A brothel… He desperately wanted to cover his face, and put his mask up again. Not caring about repercussions—everyone else was wearing masks. He continued on, feeling a bit safer with his mask on now, and looked around. 

That was until he came upon one woman. She looked oddly familiar, and Jayce stopped in her doorway looking at her. She looked up at him. He saw recognition in her eyes, and then she stood, and grabbed his hand, leading him in. She wore hardly anything, some skimpy see-through dress and a pair of lace panties. Being naked would’ve been less revealing—more proper.

“I—I don’t.” 

“ Jayce! ” the woman said. He would recognise that voice anywhere— 

“Cait?” 

She nodded, lifting up her mask ever so slightly. “No, it’s Matilda.”

“Matilda?” Jayce questioned. “What is this? You’ve sent me on a wild goose chase—for what?” 

Caitlyn forced him to take a seat, and she then straddled him. It made Jayce very uncomfortable. He tried to push her off. She didn’t let him.

“We need to keep up appearances,” she said. 

“Why?” he asked. 

“In case people are listening,” she whispered, going for his neck, pretending to kiss it, speaking, low and hushed, into it, instead. “I had to make sure I could speak with you frankly.” 

“Why?” Jayce asked again. 

“Ambessa has eyes everywhere.” 

“And she’ll see this.” 

“Yes. But she’ll think you’ve come for pleasure—you must keep this lie.” 

Jayce shook his head. “I—” Surely there was a better way to do this?

“I don’t trust her,” said Caitlyn. She then grabbed his hands and forced them onto her arse. “Make it look like you’re enjoying this.”

God, how far would this charade go? Jayce shook his head, but obliged Caitlyn… Never in his life had Jayce felt so uncomfortable. Caitlyn was basically his sister! He was going to throw up. “Then make her leave.” 

“No,” said Caitlyn. She began to grind against him. Jayce thought he might cry—he closed his eyes tightly. “I’ve caught wind of her plans. If I force her leave, she and an army of Noxians will march on our shores.” 

“That’s crazy—” 

“It’s true,” Caitlyn insisted. 

Jayce shook his head again. He couldn’t believe this was happening. “How did you even become a prostitute? How did you come here unseen?” 

“... Vi showed me a way down through the sewers… as for here…” 

“I thought you and Vi were done?” 

Caitlyn gritted her teeth, Jayce could hear them grind in his ear. Was she going to bite him? “She still taught me some useful things down here.” 

“Like being a prostitute.” 

“It allows us to talk.” 

“I knew she was bad news from the start,” Jayce murmured. “Too reckless.” 

“It will allow us to talk frankly, at least,” said Caitlyn. 

“Oh, so is this going to become a regular thing?” Jayce snarked. 

“If it allows us to talk, yes,” said Caitlyn, “unless you have a better idea.” 

“What about the sewers—can’t we talk in the sewers?” he asked. He couldn’t believe he wanted to go into the sewers willingly, but anything was preferable to this. “That’s how you came down here unseen, isn’t it?” 

“Ambessa knows I went into the sewers…” said Caitlyn. “But she doesn’t know where I came out or for why—when I’m inevitably picked up on it, I’ll need to come up with an alibi…”

Well at least this was a last resort and not something Caitlyn picked lightly, Jayce thought sparingly. “Fine. What are we going to do, then?” he asked. 

“Can you sabotage the Hextech weaponry?” she asked. 

“I… I don’t know—never tried or wanted to, considering that’d mean we could blow half of Piltover and the undercity up.” And wasn’t that true. 

“How?” 

“Hextech is all linked together,” Jayce began. “Theoretically, given the right sequences and tactics to manipulate Hextech, we could—say with your rifle—create a cascading effect that could cause mass destruction of it all.”

“What!?” Caitlyn hissed. 

“That’s why Viktor and I stabilised the gemstones—they won’t. Not unless someone had a greater understanding of Hextech than myself and Viktor combined.” 

“And if they did?” 

“They won’t—they can’t…” Jayce repeated, a little less firm than he’d said before. “But… if they did, it’d mean that Hextech would be done for good.” 

Caitlyn shook her head against Jayce’s neck. “Fuck. We’re so fucked.”

“If… If I had Viktor we might’ve been able to figure it out together,” Jayce confided. “Alone I’m not so sure.” 

“You need to figure it out. If that means dragging Viktor from whatever hole he’s gone to, so be it.” 

“If I had any inkling where Viktor might’ve gone, I would’ve gone to him instead of staying and doing yours and Ambessa’s bidding.” 

Caitlyn sighed. “I… I know. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be. Ever since Jinx attacked the council building everything’s been off.” 

“It was off before that.” 

“We could’ve fixed it, though.” 

“We still can, can’t we?” 

Jayce didn’t know. He wished he did. “I see what you mean by the undercity being more defiant,” he said instead. 

“It’s not good,” said Caitlyn. “Jinx is one problem. If we somehow kill her—or capture her—I don’t know if we’d be up for a full scale invasion.” 

“We have Hextech.” 

“That’s what Ambessa wants.” 

Jayce let out a low, humourless chuckle. “Fuck.”

Caitlyn continued to pretend to work at his neck as Jayce tried to find some words. They didn’t come easily, especially not in this place, but one thought rang through above all else. 

“I’ll find a way to disable Hextech,” he said. “I promise.” This was a promise he needed to keep. Not just for Caitlyn, or Piltover and the Undercity, but for himself—and, most importantly, Viktor.

Chapter Text

It was the second time Sevika found herself watching a young girl for her guardian. And she’d call them guardian because there were little words that could really describe the relationship between them. The first young girl she’d watched over, Jinx, for Silco, you could say had a father and daughter relationship. But their boundaries were far more defined. They acted as such. Now that Jinx was older, and had assumed the position of authority before she was ready, she didn’t exactly act as a mother to her young girl—the girl whom Sevika now watched over.

The only constant in it all was Sevika’s role as mock-aunt: Someone that got lugged with the little brat whenever it was convenient—and she didn't mean convenient for her. No, it only happened when it was least convenient, which was always. But that was beside the point. 

The convenience today was Jinx wanted to go off on her own, for what reason she wouldn’t tell. Sevika wished Jinx would keep her in the loop sometimes— 

As if sensing Sevika was thinking ill of Jinx, Isha—the little girl she was charged with looking after today—came to a halt in front of her and put her hands on her hips, mimicking Jinx. 

“What?” Sevika said. 

Isha huffed. How Jinx understood what the girl wanted was beyond Sevika. 

“It’s not my fault your— Jinx —wants to do something without you,” said Sevika. “She’s incorrigible, no manner of convincing from me could help this…” She eyed Isha, who wasn’t happy with what she was saying, frowning much like the petulant child she was. “If you couldn’t convince her, what makes you think I could.” 

Isha shrugged and rolled her eyes. What a diva. 

“You know as well as I, that there’s no keeping her here by force.” 

Isha sniffed. 

“Yeah, but we can keep you here, can’t we,” Sevika tittered. But she knew that humour would be short lived. Isha was growing more and more slippery by the day, she’d be as bad—or good, depending on how you looked at it—as Jinx soon enough. It must’ve come from the constant time spent together. 

Isha ran off. She went for the door, which Sevika had locked on entry, and tugged at it as hard as she could. Sevika laughed at the girl's blatant escape attempt. “It’s not going to be that easy,” Sevika barked, still laughing. “You got to be more creative than that.” She stood, and wandered over to the door, where Isha was still trying to open it; once there, she plucked Isha up with her good arm, and took her back over to the little den Jinx and Isha had made. 

Isha wasn’t happy about this, and tried in vain to break free. 

“Try all you want, you’re just going to have to wait for Jinx if you want to be coddled.” Sevika remembered saying similar words to Jinx, when Silco had gone off on business. 

Sevika wished Jinx would go on that business—meeting with Margot and Chross, trying to reinstate some form of governing party in Zaun. There would have to be more of them, as there was now a power vacuum the other Chem-Barons had left upon their deaths. It wasn’t as big as Sevika had worried, but chaos still came about. People were out of jobs, they didn’t have enough money to live, to feed their kids. As much as people in Piltover would’ve condemned the trade the Chem-Barons did, it was what kept the people of Zaun alive with some food in their bellies. 

Sevika let Isha down, and put an unloaded gun in her hands to play with. She watched as the girl mimicked Jinx… 

In a way, Isha was lucky to have fallen into Jinx and Sevika’s lives. Out of many people, they were some of the best off. Jinx held a power in Zaun nowadays—she was respected—and that put food in the girl's mouth. Sevika, too, had certain connections, not to mention a small pile of coin lying hidden for a rainy day. So, as it were, Isha had found herself in the most stable position one could find in Zaun. Which was still worse than the very worst Piltover had. 

It was why Sevika was so adamant Jinx took up arms against Piltover again—for Zaun; For children like Isha, who were in somewhat less fortunate circumstances, didn’t have to die on the streets, starving and alone.

All of it made Sevika irate. The injustice. Everything about it stank. Her hand curled into a white-knuckled fist—

“Pow!” The little squeak came from Isha. 

Sevika’s anger snuffed out. “I wonder how good of a shot you’ll be when you’re older…” she mused aloud. “Better than Jinx?” 

Isha continued to play with the pistol, pretending to shoot everything and anything on Jinx’s desk. She made the noises a gun would make, and mimicked the way the recoil shook through Jinx’s arm. It was almost cute. But kids shouldn’t play with guns, and greater yet, Sevika shouldn’t be thinking of how good she’d become with one someday… Up in Piltover, they shot rifles for sport. Down here, in the fissures, they shot them for survival.

Sevika wished she could take the gun from Isha. Give her a proper toy to play with… If only, eh? She thought sourly. 

The night went on, and Sevika waited and waited for Jinx to return. Isha had fallen asleep on the sofa in Sevika’s arms, snoring away and still holding Jinx’s gun—as if it were Jinx—, too tired to stay up and wait. Sevika didn’t sleep. She wouldn’t until Jinx was here. If she did, Isha would somehow slip away to try and find Jinx. So it was best to stay awake, not that she needed or wanted sleep. 

It was the early hours of the morning before the door unlocked, and Jinx came in. She looked tired, and her shoulders were hunched. 

“Late one?” Sevika said. 

Jinx grunted, and went over to the sofa where Sevika lay. 

“Where were you, a brothel?” she asked. 

“I’m not you.” 

“Yeah? I’ve seen walks like that—” 

“I’m not you,” Jinx repeated. “I’d never go to a brothel for some skanky… eugh —” she shuddered “—death would be preferred.”

Sevika sniffed. “Where were you, then?” 

Jinx looked away. 

“Where were you?”  Sevika demanded.

“I went to the fighting pits.” 

Great. Just what Sevika needed—Jinx pining after Vi again. “She showed you what she's become.” 

“Her and the Piltie princess aren’t on speaking terms,” said Jinx. “Must’ve had a big fight…” 

“Vi still sided with them—brought the grey to our streets, ratted out the few safe places we had,” said Sevika. 

Jinx didn’t answer, she took the gun out of Isha’s hands and swept her up into her arms protectively. “You can go now,” she said icily. 

Sevika wanted to bite back a retort, but held her tongue. She sighed, and stood. “All I want is for you and Isha, and all the undercity, to live freely and without fear of Piltover… how can that happen if we keep letting them walk all over us?” Sevika went for the door, afraid that she might burn this bridge too, if she weren’t careful. 

After a couple steps, she heard Jinx speak ever so quietly, that she didn’t know whether it was meant for her ears or not: “But she held her punch, didn’t she?”

Sevika went for the door. A held punch was no apology. 

Chapter Text

Ekko was never sulking in his room again. Not now that Heimerdinger would willfully burst in with less than a moment's notice. He never let anyone in his room, and that had been the case since he’d first found the tree, and continued to be until Heimerdinger crossed that boundary. No. He’d opt to spend time with the rest of them, even if that meant being with them when he didn’t want to. 

It was like that now. Ekko had gone down for dinner with everyone after his shared breakfast with Heimerdinger earlier that morning. The breakfast had been an awfully awkward affair, and Ekko had never been so happy to see it over. He usually enjoyed breakfast—and mealtime in general—with the Firelights. But that was because they shared laughter and stories and everything over food. Almost all of them would sit down to eat together, in a dining room that they’d made. It made them family. He realised now he should’ve sucked up his pride, and gone down to them. It would’ve been better, saved him an embarrassing conversation—Heimerdinger would’ve never found out about his ceiling. 

He’d not had the words to say why he’d decorated his ceiling as such. There was so much to the ceiling. It was new. Very new, in fact; Ekko hadn’t had it before his fight with Jinx on the bridge, not until he’d taken Heimerdinger back here… Heimerdinger had called the action one born from love. Ekko still wasn’t sure. It bordered on obsession, that he knew. He couldn’t feel love for Jinx, could he? Yet he’d certainly not painted Powder. Powder didn’t have tattoos: she wasn’t scarred and marred with imperfection. He could’ve drawn her, immortalised her. But he didn’t think of Powder that often anymore. He always thought of Jinx. It was she who came to him in his dreams, she who whispered words that made Ekko’s heart race. 

Not Powder… Never Powder. 

Ekko wished he dreamed of Powder, of the times they’d spent together as kids. As it were, the portrait of Powder on the mural was the only way he could get a good grasp of her face now. Through the years, Jinx had written over his memories of Powder. By the time of their fight on the bridge most all of them were overwritten, and the ones that weren’t were after the fact. Now, there was a vague outline of Powder dancing behind Jinx’s lithe body and frame… The only thing they shared were the eyes. Blue and piercing and beautiful—gorgeous in every way. In his memories, that was where Jinx and Powder met. But that was only where they met. 

It was with that thought Ekko found himself standing looking at the mural—staring intently where Powder was. He was staring at her eyes, and when he blinked, Powder was replaced by Jinx. 

“Down for dinner, lad?” Heimerdinger asked. 

Ekko tore his eyes from Powder, and grunted. “Should’ve come down earlier,” he murmured.

Scar chuckled, a deep low noise that sounded less humorous than it was intended. “Just means you can make breakfast and dinner tomorrow.” 

Ekko shook his head. “Only if you’re happy with burnt food.”

“No, no,” said Heimerdinger, “that won’t do—I’ll teach you how to cook. It’ll be a good lesson.” 

Ekko grunted. “I’m sure…” he drawled, he glanced over to Scar, whose face was full of mirth. “What?” 

“Just happy we might get something edible tomorrow, is all.” 

“I’ll burn your portion on purpose, don’t you worry,” said Ekko. He chanced a glance at Powder before he tried for the dining room. 

Unfortunately Scar noticed. “They say a little girl trails behind her now.” Scar was the last of the Firelight’s Ekko would’ve guessed to fall victim to the gossip running around the lanes. His kid had him acting all weird lately.

“Behind who?” Heimerdinger asked, if it wasn’t obvious. 

“Jinx,” said Scar, simply. 

“What of it?” asked Ekko gruffly, going for the dining room. 

Scar shrugged and followed with Heimerdinger. “Just thought you might want to help the kid. Surely Jinx isn’t a good influence on her.” 

Ekko sniffed. Scar was probably right. It wouldn’t be good to have two Jinx’s running around the streets. But Ekko couldn’t face her now. Especially not after their fight on the bridge. “So long as Jinx doesn’t bother the lot of us, what does it matter?” 

“What’s gotten into you?” Scar asked. “A few weeks ago you’d do anything to stop Jinx and Silco, not to mention we’d be marching on Piltover for their use of the grey…” 

Ekko couldn’t look at Scar. He shook his head. 

Into the dining room they went, where a table with a modest amount of food stood in the middle. There was just enough for everyone, and about enough for a single person in Piltover. But it was more than most got in the undercity, and Ekko was proud of where they’d gotten to over the years. Excess didn’t exist for them, but they certainly weren’t wanting. 

He plated his food; Scar and Heimerdinger followed suit. 

It wasn’t until they were sitting at the end of the table when Ekko finally spoke up again: “What could we do about it?” he finally asked meekly. 

“What can’t you do,” said Heimerdinger. “Ask yourself that, then you’ll find what you can do.” 

Ekko shook his head. If this was what it was going to be like bringing the undercity up, he didn’t want part of it. “I can’t go and take a kid from Jinx, not unless I want a bullet in my skull.” And he’d just gotten past that point with her. In some odd way, at least. He knew when she was pulling her shot, and she’d done just that on the bridge… which, in turn, had made him hold his fist…

Ekko couldn’t get her out of his head after their fight, she plagued dreams and nightmares alike. A few times since then, he’d woken in a cold sweat, the image of Jinx dead in his arms burned behind his eyes and into his retinas . It’d gotten so bad he’d needed a way to express that, in a safe environment away from everything—his room. But it never left. He could see her now, standing behind Scar… No sooner had she smiled at him, had her glare turned cold, calculating. She pulled a gun, Ekko stood—

“Ekko?” Heimerdinger asked. 

Ekko blinked. Came back to himself. He cleared his throat, “Sorry. Er… I just…”He sat back down. There was no way he could continue the talk of Jinx. It was all too confusing. 

“Take a moment, lad,” Heimerdinger said. 

Ekko shook his head. He felt the tears threatening to spill, and screwed his eyes shut to stop them… “ Sorry, ” he repeated. It wasn’t an apology to them. 

“Are you feeling alright?” Heimerdinger asked. 

“Just give me a moment. I need a moment,” said Ekko, taking a deep breath, battling away the tears until they were no more than a memory. He tried to think of other things, and remembered there was another problem at hand. “The Enforcers,” he started, shifting in his seat uncomfortably, trying to find his voice. “We can’t feasibly take them from the streets, not with the technology they have compared to us.” 

The look that Heimerdinger and Scar shared wasn’t lost on Ekko. 

“So what does that leave us?” asked Heimerdinger.

“Not a lot,” Scar snorted. 

“We have you,” said Ekko. “Surely you still carry some weight in the Council?…” 

Heimerdinger sighed. “That is entirely dependent on a lot of different things—I never knew the young Kiramman girl well… and, as Scar here said the other day, she assumed total control of the military and Council alike.” 

At least they knew someone close to Kiramman—Vi. Not that he really wanted to speak with her either, after she’d helped Kiramman, and Piltover, run the streets ragged with the grey. Even if they thought it was for a good cause. Too many in the undercity were innocent for such measures, and even if they were all guilty, taking their air away from them had to be one of the most disgusting things they could do. “What about Vi? Is there any way we could get to her?” Ekko asked, looking at Scar. 

“Vi’s been in the fighting pits this past week,” said Scar. 

Ekko rolled his eyes. Maybe Vi had finally woken up from the Kiramman girl’s spell… not that her in the fighting pits was much better… “Great.” 

“Rumor has it there was a big fight between them, with Jinx and Sevika involved too.” 

“You and these bloody rumors,” said Ekko, standing. 

“Where are you going?”

“To get Vi. Those fighting pits are no place for her to be,” said Ekko. 

Scar stood. “I’ll come with you.” 

“No, keep an eye on the place whilst I’m gone,” said Ekko. 

“I’ll go with you,” said Heimerdinger. “I’m curious to see what these fighting pits are like.” 

“I’m not sure you’ll agree with that when you see them—the punches are real, unlike in the plays you’re used to in Piltover.” 

“The action in the plays I watch was very much real a millenia ago, lad… I guarantee you, I’ve seen things that’d have you running with your tail between your legs,” said Heimerdinger, sharply. “But that does not matter. You’re hardly in a state to go alone—your leg is still healing.” 

“It’s fine,” said Ekko defensively. 

Scar rolled his eyes. 

“It is. I can walk,” said Ekko, turning and walking away to prove his point. He went for his Hoverboard, which he’d left at his lab, Heimerdinger in tow.

“Do you think it wise to go to such a place when you cannot run?” 

“We won’t need to run.” 

“I do hope that’s true, lad.” 

The sun had gone down by the time Ekko and Heimerdinger left the Firelight base. For the Firelights, especially the young ones, that meant it was coming up to bedtime. Something that wasn’t the case for the rest of the undercity; night time was when everyone woke up. The city became alive, and the streets illuminated by the crackling ultraviolet light of brothels and bars and nightclubs. 

It would be Heimerdinger’s first true taste of the undercity, where he’d get to taste and smell the brutality of it all. He’d seen some before he’d met Ekko, but Ekko knew that had been brief and in the back of his mind since he’d been invited to stay at the Firelight base. 

They travelled on the hoverboard with Ekko on the back and Heimerdinger sat on its front. It was just big enough for the two of them, and Ekko dared not do any insane—well, insane for Heimerdinger—moves with the Yordle on its front. Ekko took his time, and they chatted about Heimerdinger’s scooter that he now intended to build—if he wanted to go out of the Firelight base and see more of the undercity, he’d need to have his own form of travel that wasn’t on foot. 

 Not that Ekko would let Heimerdinger go out alone in the undercity any time soon. He looked down at the small Yordle, tittering at the image of Heimerdinger trying to navigate the undercity. Somehow he doubted Heimerdinger would find it as funny. 

Heimerdinger seemed to feel Ekko’s eyes on him, and turned tentatively to look at him from the front of the hoverboard. “Are you feeling alright, lad?” he asked.

Ekko nodded. Truth was he was feeling awful. As they continued to weave through the pipework, Jinx continued to appear in the corners, around the long sweeping bends and through the darkness. He heard her laugh, that maniacal giggle, then Powder’s beautiful laugh all the same… 

“Are you sure?” Heimerdinger probed. “What was up at dinner, anyway?”

“I…” How would he say it without sounding crazy? Was it something to tell? “I’m not sure.” It was a half-truth. 

“Is that to say you don’t want to tell me, or that you really don’t know?” 

“Both,” said Ekko simply—as if it actually were. It wasn’t. Nothing about emotion was simple.

Heimerdinger seemed to understand despite it. “There’s a lot resting on your shoulders at the moment,” he began, “and I suspect that’s weighing heavy on your heart… I won’t judge whatever it is that happened, and I won’t speak if you just wish to rant. Whatever you want from me, I’ll be.” 

Ekko gave a half smile. “I… I saw Jinx. Like a hallucination…” he began, still unsure. Heimerdinger’s eyes told him it was ok to continue. There was an understanding behind them, like he’d seen something similar before. Ekko kept forgetting just how much Heimerdinger had seen in his long life… “At first she was smiling, happy. She reminded me of Powder… and then… and then—” Ekko shook his head, looking away from Heimerdinger “—she pulled out her gun.” 

“And that’s when you stood?” 

Ekko nodded, looking past Heimerdinger and down the tunnel. 

“Why do you think she did what she did?” 

“Pull her gun?” 

“Become Jinx.” 

“What?” 

“Surely you have an idea behind where Jinx came from, and in all honesty, I’m fascinated to try to understand what happened to that poor girl.”

Ekko sighed. “The only thing poor about Jinx is the things she’s done to people,” he said harshly. “Half the people on the mural were murdered by her, and the other half because of her—” 

“And where does Powder fit into that?” 

“By her,” said Ekko. “Jinx murdered Powder.” 

Heimerdinger shook his head. “You and I both know you don’t believe that, lad.” 

“Then what do I believe, if you’re so wise?”

Heimerdinger just shrugged. It infuriated Ekko. The Yordle laughed at him, which only caused Ekko’s ire to rear up more. “Only you know what you believe. I cannot tell you what that is,” said Heimerdinger. 

Ekko sniffed. “I just told you what I believe.” 

Heimerdinger looked at him incredulously. “Your mouth says one thing, and your eyes another,” he said. “And, I still wonder, what your heart and mind are saying… or is it that they’re arguing?” 

“You’ve got it all figured out, eh?” Ekko said grimly.

“No. I don’t—why don’t you tell me when you last saw Powder, and we go from there?” 

Was he really about to spill it all to Heimerdinger now? They had the time, it’d take a while for them to navigate the tunnels in this light, and with Heimerdinger perched on his hoverboard. But part of Ekko would rather spend the hour in silence. If only Heimerdinger thought the same… There was only one way the Yordle would be quiet, and that was if Ekko wasn’t: “Jinx was a nickname her brother gave her when we were kids,” he began. And before he knew it he began regaling the story of how he’d scammed Jayce to them being the reason Jayce’s apartment blew up, and more. The more he told, the more he told; It was like a dam being burst and Ekko poured his heart out to Heimerdinger as they continued through the pipes. “And, when we thought Vi died, Powder as she’d once been disappeared, replaced by Jinx.” 

Heimerdinger had stayed quiet, pensive, throughout Ekko’s story. They came up on the end of the tunnels by the time he finished, and they stayed at the opening for a moment before Heimerdinger spoke. “Why do you say that Jinx replaced her?” Heimerdinger asked. 

Ekko ran his tongue along his top teeth and grimaced. “She told me that.” 

“How so?” 

“I… I thought Silco was holding her captive… so I went to her,” he said quickly, so that he did not have to relive the memory. “Only… only she—she told me she was Jinx now, and that she was working with Silco… and, if I wanted to live—not end up like Mylo, Claggor and Vander—that I should leave. Leave and never come back.” 

“So you did…” Heimerdinger supplied. “How did that make you feel?” 

Ekko grunted. “Powder never would’ve told me that.” 

“How did it make you feel?” Heimerdinger repeated.

Ekko shook his head. 

“Lad.” 

Ekko shook his head again. “I… No . I can’t talk about this.” 

“Why—” 

“Because it hurt me!” Ekko yelled. “Worse than a knife to the heart… but you know that… you see it hurts me and you’re asking anyway! Why can’t you just leave it?” he whined. “Why can’t we just… can’t we just build inventions and help the little guy?” 

Heimerdinger waited until Ekko’s breath became even again before he spoke. “Because that’s not what you want, Ekko.”

They made their way to the fighting pits in silence after Heimerdinger’s final words. Ekko didn’t want to think on them, but it was all he could do. He tried to focus on the task of finding Vi and getting her away from the brutality of them. But he knew she would revel in the violence. 

As they descended the fissures and into the depths out of reach from the Enforcers eyes and where the fighting pits were, they could hear the roaring chants that the fighting pits made. Ekko had only been down to them once, to see whether there were any kids that needed to be given a better chance at life. 

The first glimpse of the fighting pit came, and Ekko heard Heimerdinger gasp. 

“This less impressive than your wars?” Ekko asked. 

“I fear it has been a long, long while since I’ve seen such violence,” said Heimerdinger, “but this… it is tame in comparison.” 

Ekko wondered what Heimerdinger had seen before he’d come to make Piltover. He’d hinted at the violence before, and Ekko knew he felt great remorse for what had come of the undercity. It was a bastardisation of his dream that Piltover had become, a dark shadow that loomed over the peace and prosperity… It was why he wanted Ekko to take control of the undercity, and do what he’d done with the Firelights on a greater scale… If only that were possible.

“Stay close to me,” said Ekko just before they stepped into the massive crowd circling the fighting pit. Men and women, and all species circled around the pit. It was a mosh-pit, loud and almost as violent as the fighting pit itself. 

“Don’t have to ask me twice,” Heimerdinger chuckled nervously. 

They stayed close together as they went through the pits, trying to get a good view of the pit itself to see whether Vi was down there fighting. There was a chance she wasn’t. But, if Ekko wasn’t mistaken, the fighting hadn’t been going on too long and the likelihood that Vi had fought yet would be low. 

They got close enough to the edge to begin looking around, and Vi wasn’t in the pit yet. Some randoms were fighting, but it looked like the fight was about to end. Ekko looked around to see whether Vi might be in the crowds, but knew she wouldn’t. 

That was when he glimpsed her. 

Jinx. She was in the crowd, dressed in a grey cloak. But it was her. He saw the braids dangling out from under it, and, as if she felt his eyes on her, she looked up to meet his gaze… 

For a moment, the world went black. The masses faded away and he only saw Jinx. Their eyes were locked, and neither made to unlock them. It was no battle, though. Not like they’d done in the past. Her eyes were no longer the blue he knew, and was accustomed to in his dreams… they were pink like shimmer, bright and vibrant… and somehow, impossibly, they were still hers, still per—

“There she is!” Heimerdinger exclaimed, pulling at Ekko’s coat. “Look, in the pit!” 

She wasn’t in the pit, Ekko thought. She was over there! He was looking at her… “Huh?” Ekko got out. 

“Vi—they just called her name—look!” 

But Ekko couldn’t. He was still staring at Jinx—into those eyes. And she was still staring at him, just as paralysed as him. She looked scared, vulnerable. Hardly the maniacal killer she was. Why was she scared—was it this place? No, that couldn’t be—Jinx never looked scared, only… she’d looked terrified when under him… 

A man moved in front of Ekko, and Ekko frantically tried to look past him, to find Jinx’s eyes again. But she was gone as quick as she came. 

Heimerdinger tugged at Ekko’s coat again. “Are we going down to get her?” he asked. 

Finally, Ekko found himself again. He looked down to the fighting pit where Vi was, or should’ve been, only to see a black-haired girl in her place. Slowly, he realised that it was Vi! She’d stained her hair and was wearing heavy make-up, but it was her, standing with her fists up in-guard, ready to fight. 

“I—” Ekko wasn’t sure. “We’ll wait ‘til after…” he said, “don’t want to be getting in the middle of that…” He said it half because it was true and another half because he was still disorientated from Jinx. He wasn’t even sure what he’d seen was real yet. But those eyes! They’d left their mark… Every blink he took he could see them, burned into the back of his eyelids… Ekko never drank, but he found himself with a craving thirst for the strongest liquor he could get his hands on. “Er—stay here, I’ll be back in a moment,” he said, stumbling over his words.

“What—where—” 

But Ekko had darted away to the nearest stall, refusing to close his eyes so he’d not see Jinx’s intoxicating eyes, rummaging around one of his inside coat pockets for some coin to give to a vendor. He found them on the outskirts of the ring of people, the queue having died down as people wanted to watch Vi and whoever her unlucky opponent was, trade blows. Ekko practically threw his money at the man. “Strongest thing you’ve got,” he said gruffly. 

The vendor, a small, balding man, eyed his money, and then produced a bottle with a dark-black liquid in it.

Ekko grabbed it from him, took a thick swig, and threw some more coins down on the vendor’s stall before leaving without another word, taking the bottle with him, gulping it down greedily as he went back to find Heimerdinger. He’d be out of money for a while, but he didn’t care. He’d go and scam some Piltie prince or three to get it back. 

What he needed now was to get Jinx’s eyes out of his head! 

When he returned to Heimerdinger, the Yordle looked at him, and then to the bottle. Unhidden disdain filled his eyes but it disappeared as soon as it came. He didn’t speak, shook his head, and kept whatever comment he would say to himself. For now. Ekko knew he’d get it in his ear soon enough. 

Ekko looked into the fighting pit, to where Vi was weaving around her opponent with light feet. One thing you could not say about her was that she lost everything in her time in Stillwater. If anything she was better—far better. She was walking her opponent, a far bigger man with a metal jaw. He stood three heads taller than her, and his arms were as wide as her torso. Yet, her punches were precise; she threw one to his abdomen, then a kick to the outside of the man’s knee; it brought him down to her level, and she jabbed his neck, making him hunch over, wheezing in pain, before she took her elbow to his temple, knocking him out cold. 

Vi turned and celebrated, raising her arms and making the crowd explode in roars and cheers, all shouting “VI!... VI!... VI!...” She revelled in it, drunk on her victory. That was until she looked around, and spotted Ekko. Her arms sagged to her sides, and she went for the other side of the pit. 

“Come on,” said Ekko, grabbing Heimerdinger and throwing him onto his shoulders like his Hoverboard. He battled his way through the crowd, pushing and fighting to get to Vi before she disappeared for good. 

“I can run,” said Heimerdinger, bouncing around on his shoulder as Ekko ran. 

Ekko paid him little mind. He continued to dash toward Vi, hopping over the railings, pulling his Hoverboard from his back and using it to fly to Vi as she darted into the tunnel and to the underpart of the pit. He dismounted the hoverboard, let Heimerdinger down from his shoulder and shouted: “Vi!” 

Vi grunted and continued to walk away.

“Vi!” Ekko shouted again, continuing to close the gap until he was close enough to grab her shoulder and pull her around to look at him. 

“What do you want, Ekko?” she grunted. Up close, she looked worse. Her make-up was smudged as if she’d been crying day and night, and the bags under her eyes were so big it’d have been a surprise she’d slept an hour in the past week. She looked down at his hand, where he still held the black liquor, and snatched it from him, draining half of it before coughing from its strength. 

Suddenly, Ekko’s anger rose in his throat. He remembered what she’d done with Caitlyn and the grey. “Me?” he asked dangerously, “you should be asking why I haven’t come after you sooner!” 

Vi snorted. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Those people might’ve been ignorant to you and the Enforcers coming down here with the grey, but I am not.” 

Vi waved him off, tried to take another swig of the liquor, but Ekko snatched it off her. She sneered at him. “Why’d you think I’m here, Ekko?” she asked, “Caitlyn and I aren’t exactly on talking terms…” she looked away, “and it’s not exactly like I’m proud of what I did…” 

Ekko sighed, and shook his head. “You’re not going to right your wrongs by bloodying your fists—you’re coming with us.”

“Us?” Vi asked. 

Heimerdinger stepped from behind Ekko, waving timidly. 

Vi frowned, and squinted, looking at him oddly. “Councillor?” 

“Not anymore, unfortunately.” 

Chapter Text

“I’m not going back there, Ekko,” Vi’s voice echoed in the tunnel under the fighting pit. 

Jinx watched her from the shadows. She watched them all from the shadows, not daring to move or make her presence known. Ekko stood close to Vi, condemning her crimes, and the little Yordle, Heimerdinger stood by his side, trying his best to keep the peace. 

“You can come with us or we will take you by force.” 

Vi grunted, and looked down at Heimerdinger, then to Ekko’s leg. “I’ve seen your limp,” she said in a nasty, threatening voice. Jinx wondered what had caused the issue in his leg to begin with… surely it hadn’t been…

Jinx could feel the rage from Ekko from fifteen feet away. “What happened to the girl who wanted only to help?” he demanded. “The girl who hated enforcers and would do anything for her family?” 

Vi sniffed. “I have no family left.”

Her words were a knife to Jinx’s heart, and she bit her lip to stop the whimper that threatened to cry out and reveal her to them. For a moment, she thought Heimerdinger looked at her, or at least in her direction, but he turned away to face the other two again, and her fears were quashed in that instant.

Ekko scoffed. 

Jinx didn’t know who she wanted to look at more. Her eyes flicked between both Ekko and Vi, going back and forth as they stood off against one another. 

She’d not known if Ekko had been real when she’d seen him in the crowd, he’d acted as much as one of her hallucinations. But she’d never had a hallucination of him. Not like Mylo or Claggor, or god forbid Silco or Vi… He’d always been real for her. For better or worse. And this interaction tonight showed as much. 

Her mind went back to their connection in the crowd. His dark, hard eyes had gone soft when he’d seen her… soft like they’d been on the bridge. It had frightened her, as if he’d cut his way through the crowd to pin her again; but it had enticed her too. She never was good at telling the difference between hate and affection… Jinx had almost forgotten that look in his eye—she’d not seen it since they were young and stupid. But she found she’d missed it dearly. 

“If I may,” Heimerdinger began. 

“No you may not,” Vi snarked back. “What’s this got to do with you anyway?” 

Heimerdinger sighed. “I fear, my dear girl, I have everything to do with it… seeing as it should’ve been my duty to ward away such hardships as you and Ekko and all the undercity have faced.” 

Vi looked taken aback. Jinx was too. Seldom did you hear remorse that true, come from someone who’d been on the Council. 

“And, while there is little I can do at this very moment to right these wrongs, I do feel that you have at least the beginnings to right your own,” Heimerdinger continued, “Ekko here has told me a little of his relationship with you, and even Jinx… So, while you say you have no family left”—Heimerdinger looked up to Ekko, who turned his head away from them shamefully—“it would seem he thinks you are his family… and, well, we can cross the metaphorical bridge Jinx is at a later time…” 

Vi sagged, and looked to Ekko. “I didn’t mean…” 

“I know,” said Ekko sadly. “Will you just come back with us?” 

Vi hung her head low.

“We have food, somewhere you can bathe, clean clothes…”

Finally, Vi nodded. “I’m sorry… I… shouldn’t have let Caitlyn use the grey against us.” 

Ekko shook his head. “What’s done is done.”

The words stung Jinx’s heart. She cast her gaze away. 

“But it doesn’t mean we don’t care for you… despite it all,” Ekko finished… 

They went for the back exit.

Jinx didn’t know why she followed. But she did. All the way to the pipework where the Firelights often came shooting out of, and then onwards. Trying to keep far enough behind they wouldn’t see. Not that people ever saw when she followed. 

She’d caught parts of the conversation, which ebbed and flowed awkwardly. Both Ekko and Heimerdinger had asked how and what the fight she’d had with Jinx was about—why it’d come about. Vi had told them a vague, mismatched story that followed her thoughts after Jinx had sent the rocket into Piltover’s Council. She spoke of Caitlyn’s mother’s death, how that had guilted her into doing what the girl asked. But that only lasted until she’d pulled a gun on a kid—Isha. And all her memories of little Powder had come flooding back. 

Mylo laughed at that. Jinx had forgotten Mylo was still there for a long while. Isha somehow warded away Jinx’s demons. Or maybe Jinx forced them away so she could protect Isha. Either way, she’d almost forgotten Mylo’s laugh. And she didn’t welcome his return. 

Jinx found herself edging closer to the three infront of her, as if they’d ward away her demons. But she knew they wouldn’t. Not Vi… 

She welcomed the entrance of the Firelight base with open arms, even though she had to stay even further back when they entered, and when the large door shut, Jinx stood in the tunnel unknowing of what to do next… So she waited; for what she didn’t know, but she waited for a little while, looking at the door. She closed the distance after a while, and then started to touch it, until she mustered up the courage to enter. It was too enticing not too. She’d always wondered what it might look like, this place where her greatest enemies lived… Now that she was here, that wonder was mixed with a pooling dread. 

Still, she entered, slipping past the enormous door silently.

Jinx stood in the empty Firelight base, looking around in awe of it all. The centerpiece, the tree, was magnificent, and all the buildings that went along with it were amazing. Before she knew it, she found herself staring at the mural in wonderment. This place… this place was where children should grow up, she thought, as the firelights glowed and hovered about, ethereal and magical, much like how the arcane gemstones glittered after use… She recognised a good number of those on the wall, not just her brothers and Vi. Many of them she’d personally killed. Jinx remembered all their faces, they haunted her, laughed at her as she went about her day… the whole mural laughed at her now… 

“Jinx,” a soft voice called out. 

Jinx jumped away from it, pulling her gun instinctively upon the intruder. She’d forgotten she wasn’t alone.

It was Heimerdinger. He stood with a smile on his face.

“I…” 

The Yordle looked at her, head tilted as if analysing her like some far off equation one couldn’t quite figure out. “You followed us,” he said simply. “Why?” 

Jinx looked around, to see if anyone else was with them. 

“Everyone else is asleep,” said Heimerdinger. “We are alone.” 

Jinx blinked. Her gun was still aimed at him, and her hand hovered over its trigger.  

“They’ll know if you kill me…” 

Jinx sniffed. She lowered her gun. “I was just going.” She stepped past him, and went for the exit. 

“Ekko told me you played a part in all their murders,” said Heimerdinger. 

Jinx halted, and rolled her jaw. She turned, and looked down at Heimerdinger. “I’d do it again.” 

Heimerdinger chuckled. “Of all the people I’ve killed, my dear child, there isn’t one that I would kill again, given the chance.” 

“You’ve killed?” she breathed and giggled, trying to hide how uncomfortable it made her feel. “Couldn’t imagine it.” 

“And I hope no one could,” said Heimerdinger. “How else would Piltover have come about?” 

“You rose it from the ashes of the last great war—” 

“Yes… I did…” Heimerdinger mused, “but how did this war come to end, I ask?…” 

“I… I don’t…” Jinx studied him. “ You? ”

“History, I fear, is written by the victors… and we do not write of our bad deeds,” said Heimerdinger, tsking. “No. If we did, we’d be condemned… better to let those we beat pay for our crimes, than to face justice ourselves. Otherwise… otherwise, there would be no one left to build from the ashes, if we are all chained in shackles.” 

Jinx had no words. 

“Come, child, let us sit.” Heimerdinger led Jinx over to a little workshop at the foot of the tree, he pulled her up a chair that a coat was draped over, before clambering up into one of his own. Jinx looked around to see whose workshop it was, but it was obvious without much looking. It was Ekko’s. She’d recognise his style anywhere; and this sang of Ekko. She realised the coat she was sitting on was his, and it took all her strength not to take one of the arms and bask in its scent.

“Will you tell me why you followed us?” 

Jinx shrugged. “Why not… Get to see where this mythical Firelight base is, y’know.” 

Heimerdinger nodded, though he didn't seem convinced. “And what do you think of it?” he asked politely. 

“I…” she snorted. “It’s got Ekko written all over.” And that was true. She looked around as best she could from inside the workshop; only he could find such a place, and make it his home. Jinx wasn’t sure she’d have done the same, something would’ve gone wrong, the tree would’ve died—or worse. She shook her head. “I see now why they call themselves the Firelights.” 

Heimerdinger was looking at her oddly. 

“What, fuzzball?” 

He chuckled, shook his head, and smiled. “Oh, nothing, my dear girl… just that I think Ekko has been wrong about you.” 

Jinx huffed. “If he’s told you anything about who and what I am, I doubt that…” she said, “that is unless he called me a saint.” 

“No, he’s told me of what you’ve done—and even then, without this input, Piltover was rather up in arms about you and your little… shows… a month ago. I’ve heard a whole lot about you, mostly bad, but I’m struggling to see any of that now.” 

“Just you wait…” said Jinx. “Get too close, and maybe you’ll fall into the trap that is my name.” 

“Jinx? Ekko told me a bit about it,” said Heimerdinger. 

“Oh yeah?”

Heimerdinger nodded. “He spoke of Powder, yes… And the many things that happened during your childhood.” 

“He shouldn’t have.” 

“I asked him to.” 

“What do you care?” 

“As you no doubt heard under the fighting pit, I feel personally responsible for how things have gone down here…” said Heimerdinger. 

It was somewhat unsettling to hear that he knew she was listening and watching all the way back there and had said nothing… she wasn’t used to people being able to do that with her—as she was usually able to slip past any and all without a hitch. 

Heimerdinger was different to most, though—that had become very apparent. “That is why I ventured down here… to see why all the fighting was happening, I’d turned a blind eye to it for too long, and what I found… it truly, deeply, hurt me.” 

“Well I’m glad you feel pity for us,” Jinx sneered. “But what’s your pity ever gotten us? Other than more Enforcers roaming the streets?” 

“My pity? Nothing to you, or your family,” Heimerdinger said, mournfully. Jinx couldn’t believe she actually thought it was genuine. “But I hope, dear girl, that someday soon, I can help you all.” He laid a fuzzy hand atop Jinx’s, and it took all she had not to flinch away from the foreign touch. Isha was the only one she touched now, and had touched in a non-violent way for so long that all else felt foreign…

Jinx found herself staring at the mural again, at the dead people… at Powder. “Your promises are hollow to us.” 

Heimerdinger sighed. “I know,” he said. “I know.” 

Silence washed over them. But Jinx found herself wanting to talk to the Yordle more. He was interesting. And an unbiased view of it all. He’d been more than willing to speak with her without hostilities, which was more than could be said for anyone else—Sevika included. “How would you help?” she asked, breaking the brief silence.

“Oh, that’s a tough one,” said Heimerdinger. “It is rather a large task…” 

Jinx tittered. “Don’t get me started.” 

“But with the right help I don’t see why there cannot be change in due course.” 

“Who would want to help?” she asked. “Most people enjoy the chaos down here, and others are powerless to stop it.” 

“Ekko,” said Heimerdinger simply. “He’s already brought about that change on this scale.” 

“With likeminded people,” Jinx said. 

“Yes… but it’s progress.” 

“Too slow progress, though. Thirty people of thousands—it’d take a millenia, which you will see but we won’t.” 

“Does that diminish what you could achieve?

“It makes it less worthwhile, yes.” 

“For you… but what of those that will come after you?” 

Jinx shrugged. “I won’t meet them. Why should I care?” 

Heimerdinger smiled, Jinx couldn’t understand why. “Do you have anyone you care for?” he asked. 

Isha immediately came to mind. Jinx could see her brilliant little smile and her unruly brown hair, which she’d now dyed the same blue as her own. She smiled despite herself. 

Heimerdinger noticed. “You see, there’s a chance they’ll live longer than you, and then, in that time, they’ll meet people who they come to care for deeply, as deeply as you cared for them… the cycle continues, and these people you’ll never meet are somehow connected to you and your actions in a very special way… you’ve lost people in your life, yet I imagine you think of them all the time… your parents, your siblings, anyone who might’ve made an impact. You live for them, don’t you. And who they were to you.” 

Jinx thought of her parents, and Vander, Silco, and her late brothers, all of which she thought of daily… “I…” she began, words dying in her throat. She’d never thought anyone would miss her like that, and yet… and yet Ekko—and somehow she knew it had been Ekko—had painted her portrait in memory on this mural. Did he think of Powder as she thought of those she’d lost? 

“You will never meet these people in a millenia, Jinx… but they will come to know you for your actions. They will see you in the architecture, and dream of you from the stories and songs which have been written in your name…” 

“They’ll hear of the monster I am,” said Jinx, weakly. 

“Maybe… or perhaps they’d hear the songs of the girl who helped bring the undercity up and out of the fissures…”

Silence did sweep over them after those words, and this time Jinx didn’t want to end it. Heimerdinger had left her a lot to think about. She stood. Heimerdinger stayed seated. “You won’t tell them I was here, will you?” 

Heimerdinger shook his head. “I am sure, though, should you ever need, that the doors will be opened to you and any you bring in your care… if only you knock.” He knocked the knock they’d used to get into the base to begin with, and Jinx left with it echoing in her ears. 

She got back to her little hideaway as dawn broke, and she found Sevika cradling Isha on the sofa, face flush with anger. Jinx went over to them, and took Isha from Sevika wordlessly as the woman loomed over her, irate. 

Jinx took a moment to speak, trying to find her words. “I’m… sorry,” she began, the words feeling foreign on her lips. She didn’t know the last time she apologised to anyone but Isha. 

Sevika sniffed. “Did you at least speak to Vi this time?” she asked. 

“No… but I think I spoke to someone better.” 

Sevika waited for her to elaborate. 

Jinx didn’t. She wouldn’t be telling a soul about her little talk with the fuzzball, Heimerdinger. “I’m ready,” she said instead. “Ready to help the undercity change.” 

Sevika blinked at her, then brought her into a thick hug, Isha nestled between them. They remained like that for longer than Jinx was comfortable with, until Sevika finally pulled back and looked over Jinx with a muted smile. “Took you long enough,” she said affectionately. 

Jinx reciprocated the smile. 

“I’ll set up a meeting with the Chembarons,” Sevika said. 

Jinx nodded. 

“I’ll see you in the morning, and we can sort it out then,” Sevika said, and smiled again. Jinx couldn’t remember a time she’d seen the woman so happy. Sevika ruffled Isha’s hair and gave Jinx one last look before heading for the door. 

“Lock it on your way out, won’t you?” Jinx called after her. 

Sevika grunted her response, and Jinx heard the lock go as she left. 

Jinx looked down at Isha, and in her mind’s eye, she saw her playing with the other kids at the Firelight base. Jinx thought of Heimerdinger’s last words, that should she ever need it, the door would always be open… 

“Ready for bed?” Jinx asked. 

Isha nodded, and scampered off to the sofa where they usually slept… Before she’d not cared all that much about sleeping on a sofa with Isha, but now, with the Firelight base in her mind, she thought it was time they actually got a bed—a proper one. 

That could be dealt with another time, though. Jinx was far too tired to do anything other than sleep, and once she slipped under the thin blanket behind Isha, and wrapped her in a hug, it wasn’t long before she fell into a deep sleep…

*

Jinx sat at the bar in the Last Drop after hours, sipping juice through the straw of her cup. No one was behind the bar, and it caused her to look around aimlessly, trying to find where they might’ve gone. Vander’s song was playing in the jukebox, something she hadn’t heard since his death. It gave the place an uncanny, almost deja-vu atmosphere . 

She stood, leaving her drink at the bar, and began to look around. 

It reminded her of when she was young. She missed when the Last Drop was like this most of the time. Now it was only like this an hour of the day, the rest of the time it was a booming club where you could lose all sense of time. 

It must’ve been that hour now, and Jinx ran her hand along the empty chairs and abandoned tables. Something about the place felt off, but not enough that Jinx could quite grasp what it was… she tried to remember what she’d been doing before she came here, or even the past couple days in general, but nothing came to her… 

Tiny footsteps darted at her, and Jinx could scarcely react before the culprit was on her, hugging her waist tightly. She looked down, knowing it was Isha without a thought. She smiled down at the girl. “Where’ve you been off to?” she asked, ruffling Isha’s hair and kneeling down to hug her. 

“You forget you siphoned her off to Sevika?” 

Jinx darted her head up to the intruder. Someone she wasn’t expecting—Ekko. She took Isha closer, frowning at Ekko. It was only then she realised she didn’t have a gun on her. Or a bomb. Or any manner of defending herself. 

“Cat got your tongue?” Ekko jibed, chuckling. 

Isha wrenched herself from Jinx’s hold and scuttled over to Ekko. 

Jinx put her arm out to grab her, but it fell to her side when she saw Isha point at the bar and demand in sign language for Ekko to get her a drink… 

Ekko smiled, ruffled the girl's hair, and went to the bar. “Anything, for the little princess,” he said, shaking his head. 

Jinx watched awestruck. Her mouth hung wide, attracting flies, and she began to scrutinise the place more… Was this real? She looked around, trying to pick apart any little detail that wasn’t right. Again, she tried to think of what she was doing before being here… Still, nothing came to her. 

Ekko took notice, and looked at her with weary eyes as he grabbed a cup for Isha and began to pour her the same drink as Jinx had been drinking. “Are you alright, darling?” he asked.

Darling? Darling ? Who the fuck was he calling darling, and why did it sound so terribly good? Jinx stood abruptly, standing to attention like some Noxian soldier. 

Ekko finished pouring the drink, and went to hand it to Isha, who had climbed one of the high chairs at the bar and was waiting with open arms. Jinx stepped over without thought, and swiped the drink from Ekko without a word. 

“Powder—” 

She sneered. “Powder’s gone !” she said sharply. “You… You of all people know that.” 

Ekko frowned at her. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

Isha tugged at Jinx’s top, trying to get the drink from her. It was then she noticed she wasn’t wearing her usual leather crop-top, but a normal, slim fitting top that covered her entire torso and abdomen. That was odd, and she looked to see if her pants were different, too. They were. She was in a pair of patched together overalls. She frowned at the sight, and Isha grabbed the drink from her grasp as she studied her clothes. 

Jinx’s hand fell to the table to steady herself, and Ekko placed his hand over hers… the touch made her mind lurch, but she didn’t pull or shy away from it, nor did she actively lean into it. 

“Jinx.” 

“Right in one!” she said, trying to make herself sound more confident. 

“Jinx,” Ekko repeated, stroking his thumb over the back of her hand. “Are you feeling alright?” 

Jinx stared at him. She knew her eyes to be glass, and his face fogged for it. Of course she was fine, why wouldn’t she be? And still, she shook her head—because none of this was right. It made her feel dizzy. 

Ekko smiled at her sadly, and nodded. “Why don’t you go off to bed, and I’ll put Ish to bed… how does that sound?”

No! Her mind cried, yet she nodded anyway. What was wrong with her? Why was she letting him do this? Jinx ruffled Isha’s hair and kissed her gently on the forehead. “Goodnight, Isha.”

Isha hugged her, and they touched foreheads before Jinx wandered off to what she knew was her bedroom, letting her body take her without complaint. As she left the room, the door closing behind her, she heard Ekko say to Isha: “It’s just one of those days, little one, you know how it is.” 

Jinx found herself in what had once been Vander’s bedroom, and then Silco’s. And now she realised it was hers… But not just hers, she knew. Still, she went for the bed, almost falling into it as she lost all her strength. 

What was going on? Why… Why… This wasn’t real… Why had her hallucinations gotten this bad? She didn’t even remember the last time they’d confused her as much as they did now—usually she had a grasp on the line between what was going on in her head and what was real… but none of this could be real, could it? 

Ekko. This was Ekko’s doing. Somehow. She didn’t know how, though! But somehow… 

Jinx curled into a ball on the bed, trying her best to pull herself from this nightmare. It was all too much! 

The door opened. 

“Isha’s nicely tucked in bed,” Ekko said in the doorway, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him. He untied his laces and kicked off his boots. 

Jinx remained in the bed. She tried to muster some strength, anything to stop Ekko slipping into it beside her. Ekko did as she thought he would, and as he tried to wrap an arm around her, Jinx uncurled herself and tried to punch him. 

He caught it, and frowned. “I thought we’d gotten past this…” he mumbled. 

“You thought wrong,” said Jinx nastily. It didn’t sound like her. She struggled against his hold, and broke past his defenses until she was hitting and scratching and kicking. 

Ekko took it with a sad, tortured look on his face until his face was bloody and bruised. He didn’t stop her, or whimper and whine against her punches. He just took it. Took it until she was atop him on the bed, beating down on him as she sobbed violently. Her tears dripped from her face and down onto his; they mixed with his own tears and the blood that dripped from his nose. 

The longer she went on, the harder and harder it was to continue. Her arms grew heavy. 

Why did he always have that look on his face? Jinx could see it through her tears as clear as the full moon on a clear night… He’d had it on the bridge… and then he… and then he’d had it at the fighting pits… 

Jinx’s arms failed her. 

“Jinx…” he whispered, pulling her into a soft, gentle hug. 

She shook her head against his chest, still sobbing.

“Jinx.” 

“No!” she mumbled and wept. 

“ Jinx! ” 

Jinx bolted upright, chest heaving, gasping for air. She was back in her hideaway. It had only been a dream, she told herself—a nightmare… The thought should’ve been a good one, and yet she was left with a deep, longing ache within her chest. 

“Jinx…” Sevika said. 

“I… I…” Jinx began. She shook her head, and rubbed at her weary, blurred eyes. “Where’s Isha?” 

Sevika stepped aside, revealing Isha hiding behind her leg. 

The blur in her eyes disappeared, and Jinx kicked the sweat-wicked blanket from her and held her arms out to Isha. The girl came over, and melted into the embrace. Jinx looked up at Sevika with questioning eyes. 

“This one came to find me,” said Sevika. “She was frantic…” 

“How’d she get out?” Jinx wondered aloud. “You locked the door.” 

Sevika gave her a look. “Like a lock will hold her…” she said wryly. 

Jinx shook her head, and looked down at Isha. “Why’d you leave?” 

Isha pointed at Jinx, and then signed to her that she was worried for Jinx—she thought she was hurt, that she was going to die in her sleep. 

“Oh, I’m sorry little one,” Jinx said softly, “it was only a nightmare.” 

“Some nightmare,” Sevika said. “Got you in a right twist.” 

Jinx grunted. 

“Care to share?” 

Jinx looked down at Isha again, stroking the girl’s face. “I… don’t remember,” she lied weakly. She knew without looking Sevika would know she was lying but she didn’t care. All she could see were Ekko’s deep brown eyes looking at her with that look only he could give, the one that brought her back to their childhood without fault… the one that warmed her black heart. 

*

A few days went past after Jinx’s dream—nightmare—or whatever it was. She’d gone with Sevika to meet with Margot and Chross; they’d had to bring Isha along with them as there was nowhere for her to go, which Sevika wasn’t happy with but Jinx thought it was no different to what Silco had done with her when she was younger. The only reason she’d stopped going to the meetings was because she hadn’t cared for them—more interested in making bombs and weapons and going off on her own than working with a bunch of crime lords. 

Jinx wished she had the time to go off on her own since her dream. Ekko’s eyes had remained a constant companion to her, and came back to her every night when she went to sleep. She’d kill him, Jinx thought indignantly; why did he have to look at her when they were at the fighting pits? Why did she have to look back, a voice whispered back to her. She’d prefer Mylo’s haunting laughter than that accusing voice. It hadn’t been her fault! He’d looked at her . It wasn’t the other way around. How could she have possibly prepared for it? There was no way she could’ve done anything but what she’d done. Wasn’t there? Jinx didn’t know. 

She’d been frozen under his piercing gaze. Frozen in a way she’d never been frozen. 

Of course, there had been those times she thought she saw Vi, and all the haunting memories came back. Mylo loved those times, revelled in them. Claggor watched on too, silently—always silent… But it was different with Ekko. Because it was always silent when their eyes collided. The world around them disappeared, and—for the briefest moment—nothing else existed. It was just them; their sins laid bare. They knew each other's weaknesses and strengths, knew too much—far, far too much. And it scared her. Because no one knew what Jinx was. No one! 

No one but Ekko. 

Because those eyes saw her. They pierced her heart and soul. And they lingered like none other… All others were memories, hallucinations of the people she killed, haunting and laughing only as dead people could. Ekko haunted her because of how dreadfully alive they were. They glittered and mocked, reminding Jinx of the life he’d promised to give her many years ago, and everytime he gave her that look only he could give… 

Sevika placed a hand on Jinx’s shoulder. They were outside the Chem-Barons meeting place. Jinx hadn’t missed it in the slightest. 

“You ready?” Sevika asked. 

Jinx shrugged. “Don’t think I’ve got much choice in it now…” she murmured, looking down at Isha by her side. She opened the doors, and entered the room. 

Margot and Chross were already sitting at the large table, speaking amongst themselves as amicably as they might, considering how they were at each other’s throats not a week ago. Chross had a large man standing behind him, not quite Vander’s size, but close enough to intimidate—he was one of the many goons Chross had, and it was no surprise the man went anywhere without him, considering his state as a cripple…  Behind Margot were two of her most trusted lieutenants, women dressed in skimpy latex that Jinx didn’t really wish for Isha to see, for whatever reason she couldn’t quite pin… 

Jinx took a look down at Isha, and placed a hand on the girl’s back and pushed her toward one of the chairs at the table, and took the one next to her. Sevika remained standing, acting in the same position as she had for Silco, and now like those for Margot and Chross. 

It was Chross who addressed her first, tipping his chin upwards at Jinx and flicking his eyes down at Isha for the briefest moment. “The queen has finally seen fit to address us?” he mused haughtily. 

Jinx scoffed. “What do you know about royalty, wheels?” 

Margot chuckled, hiding her mouth with the back of her hand. “And that is the fight you said you were looking for, hm?” she asked Chross. 

Chross nodded. “I’d rather…” he began, as if he had something very important to say. “I’d rather that my… affliction… wasn’t made light of in such a way…” 

“Go see the Doctor if you want to walk again,” said Jinx. “I’m not here to mince my words because you're sensitive about your… affliction.” She finished the sentence with her best Piltie accent, trying to mimic how Vi’s cupcake spoke, though she didn’t think it came out just right. 

“What I am now is less of a monster than what the doctor will leave me as when he’s finished,” said Chross. “I’d thought you of all people would know that.” 

“Now, now Chross,” Margot said mirthfully. 

“Let’s cut to the chase,” Sevika said from behind. “Jinx is going to help us remove Piltover from the streets.” 

“Yes, you said,” Chross mused thoughtfully. “Margot and I were just discussing the best course of action to use her… talents…” 

Jinx frowned. 

Margot looked at her. “What exactly did Silco teach you about his business?” she asked. 

Sevika cleared her throat. “Now—”

“You want to know about Shimmer?” Jinx asked, cutting Sevika off. 

Margot nodded. 

Jinx ran her tongue over her top teeth and sneered. “I wasn’t planning on continuing it,” she said. 

Margot and Chross exchanged a look, and Jinx could sense Sevika’s confusion without needing to see her face. 

“Shimmer…” Jinx went on, “Shimmer is what’s keeping us under the boot. It’s turned respectable people into mindless husks, chasing their next fix. It’s no way for us to get independence if that’s what we’re going to do to the people.” 

“And yet you have Shimmer flowing through you,” Chross pointed out, stating the obvious. 

Jinx’s eye twitched in anger. “Not by choice,” she ground out through her teeth. And that was true. Jinx would’ve preferred the embrace of death than what the Doctor had done to her. Yes, it had its boons—it provided her with quick reflexes and inhuman strength, but it had robbed her of one of the few things she still liked about herself—her eyes, more specifically, their colour. 

“Still,” said Chross. “It—” 

“ It gives me a unique view of the effects of Shimmer,” Jinx said, cutting him off. “And, as you said, you’d rather be bound to that wheelchair than have what happened to me done to you.” 

Sevika snorted behind her. 

Margot cleared her throat, leaning forward on the table earnestly. “And what, if not Shimmer, do you plan to have funding our endeavours? The Last Drop will keep you afloat in the meantime, I’m sure, but it won’t sustain an entire nation when the time comes…” 

Jinx hadn’t thought that far ahead. She’d only wanted to get rid of Shimmer, not to mention she planned to revert The Last Drop back to a bar, and not a raging club, as soon as she was able... Her skills lay in building and inventing weaponry, something she only did for herself or those she was close to. Never for the masses. For the first time she understood why Silco had used Shimmer. He’d used it in all the wrong ways but it had nonetheless put food on the table, and she knew that he’d left a fortune—for Zaun standards—in Sevika’s possession. 

Sevika picked up on Jinx’s hesitance, and laid a hand on Jinx’s shoulder. “Silco and I stashed enough gold to keep us upright until we can figure out a better plan for the long term.”

Margot leaned back in her chair, and looked at Chross. They exchanged something between them that Jinx didn’t like. 

“What of your businesses?” Jinx asked. “The whorehouses are full of Pilties and Zaunites alike, and Chross, considering how much Zaunites drink—I’m sure you’re thriving distilleries aren’t troubled?” 

Margot frowned. 

“What?” said Jinx. “You cannot think I forgot that both of you paid Silco… and you cannot think me so ignorant to not know that you haven’t been paying that to Sevika since his death.” 

Margot laughed. It caused Chross to snigger too. 

“What?” Jinx demanded. 

“Oh, nothing, nothing—just that you kill the man, then take his place.” 

Jinx’s fingers found her gun before she could think. She placed it on the table, leaving her hand to rest on it. Again, Chross and Margot shared a look. This time there was no mockery. Only fear. “Yes. I killed Silco,” she said calmly, “and, if I killed him—dear old pa—what makes you think I won’t kill you, and find someone more suitable to take your place?” 

“I—we’re sorry, Jinx.” 

“Yes, I imagine you are.” Jinx took her hand off the gun, but left it on the table. “Now, what was it again—ten percent of your profits went to Silco?” 

They nodded. 

“It’s now twelve.” 

They nodded again. 

“I’m glad we’re on the same page.” Jinx stood, taking Isha’s hand and helping the girl out of the chair. “Good chat.” 

It was only once they’d left the meeting room, and were half way back to Jinx’s hideaway that Sevika spoke up. “And you said you weren’t Silco…” the woman shook her head. “Only he could command people like that…” 

Jinx frowned. “I don’t want to be like Silco…” she murmured, looking down at Isha. She’d rather be like Vander… 

“Like it or not, Silco employed similar tactics to get his way… might not be the nicest, but it’s damn effective.” 

Jinx nodded. But she knew there was so much to do. Behaving like Silco was just the tip of the iceberg. She needed to figure out a way to ensure Zaun prospered once they got their independence. And, she wondered, just how that might happen in the first place. Silco had managed to barter, but the only way he got offered independence was for Jinx to be in shackles… she wasn’t sure that would be the ideal scenario for her. 

Then again… Jinx looked down at Isha… if it kept her safe, if that was what it took. Where would Isha go, if Jinx was taken to Stillwater to rot there for the rest of her days? It wasn’t as if she could look after her in Stillwater, and she doubted, somehow, that visiting hours were all that friendly… Sevika would be able to look after Isha, wouldn’t she? She already did it enough. But Jinx couldn’t help but think Isha needed somewhere proper to grow up, somewhere that would afford her more opportunities, and give her the stability she needed. 

Deep brown eyes and a solitary tree were all Jinx could see.

Chapter Text

The undercity left a stink on the skin that wasn’t easily washed away. Caitlyn had been in the shower for what must’ve been hours, scrubbing at her ever-reddening skin. She worked herself raw, and continued past the point of pain. The fervour of her need went beyond pain. It was painful to have this stench on her, and the more and more she worked away at her skin, the more she came to realise it wasn’t the undercities stink that she was witlessly trying to scrub away… 

A month prior, had you told Caitlyn she’d have gone down to the undercity to act as a whore in a whorehouse—one of which she’d been shown by a convicted felon (guilty or not)—she’d have scoffed in your face and said she’d never! Now… well, she had, hadn’t she? 

It was lucky she could slip away using the knowledge and skills Vi had given her, and the schematics her mother had left, but she’d now brought Jayce into the fold and his reputation was going to be tarnished all the more for it. But she wouldn’t allow that to happen. The only person that might try to use it against them was Ambessa, though she’d never do so outwardly; and, as much as that was a scary thought, Ambessa needed Jayce far too much to bring him down. 

Or just enough to bring him down…

Caitlyn would have to try to keep a closer eye on the woman. If she somehow managed to sink her claws into Jayce and get him reliant on her, like she’d done with Caitlyn for the briefest moment, Hextech would be in her grasp. 

It would be the end for Piltover. 

Of course, the undercity didn’t know any of this, and they were now becoming more and more hostile. It would only be a matter of time before they attempted another revolution for independence, and that would allow Ambessa to sweep in and throw the power dynamic in a loop. It would only take Ambessa getting her claws in one of the many great minds the undercity had—and Caitlyn knew there were many, looking at Jinx, Viktor, Ekko and who knows who else—to force Piltover to arm themselves properly, as they had unwittingly begun to do already… 

Caitlyn’s rifle was a testament to that. And Vi’s atlas gauntlets, which were in the undercity now, still by her side, were a testament to that too—to the idea that even things built to help, could become the very thing that would destroy it all. 

A knock came at the door. It was Maddie, Caitlyn knew… why she’d ever taken the woman to bed was beyond her… that decision had been part of the stench. “Caitlyn?” Maddie called out. “You’ve been in the shower an hour—are you alright?” 

Caitlyn took a deep breath and turned the shower off. “I’m fine,” she called back, reaching for a towel and stepping out. She dared not look in the mirror, she couldn’t anymore. Not since… since… Caitlyn buried her head in the towel, and let out a dry, heaving sob before taking another calming breath. 

She heard Maddie speaking on the other side of the door, but didn’t listen. Caitlyn tuned her out as she dried herself, and slipped into some nightwear. Once ready, she let her hand linger on the door a moment, she took another deep breath, then finally opened it with a smile on her face. 

Maddie smiled timidly back at her. “Is it the rally that has you worried?” she asked.

In truth, Caitlyn hadn’t thought a thing about the rally. They had heard rumors that the Undercity were planning something, but she was unsure as to the what or why other than they were meeting at Vander’s statue tomorrow. 

Maddie continued when Caitlyn didn’t immediately respond. “Are you worried Jinx will be there?” 

Caitlyn sniffed. “If she’s there, we’ll detain her and bring her in to enact justice for her crimes against Piltover.” 

Maddie then spoke something Caitlyn didn’t listen to. 

Caitlyn went for the bed and slipped onto it deftly. Maddie followed like some obedient dog waiting for a biscuit. It disgusted Caitlyn, but she didn’t protest, instead, she slid open her legs and let the girl have her treat. 

Maddie dove in eagerly.

Caitlyn couldn’t fault Maddie for being an attentive lover. But that didn’t make up for the fact there was a gaping hole left in Caitlyn’s chest, one that Maddie could never hope to fill. Still, she did her job meticulously, as Caitlyn would expect from one of her most trusted lieutenants; she wordlessly picked up to what Caitlyn’s body reacted to, and never once had she failed to bring Caitlyn to climax. Yet, like tonight, once it was over, and they’d had their fun, Caitlyn found herself rolling over in bed and feigning sleep. 

Maddie, of course, wrapped herself around Caitlyn, spooning her. Caitlyn just closed her eyes, and imagined a different set of arms around her—ones far more muscular, covered in awful scars and tattoos, and yet soft as silk. Caitlyn knew of course those arms weren’t soft, they were harsh and calloused, but the touch felt like silk to her. From that first touch to their last, Caitlyn had never felt anything so perfect. And now she was doing anything to find it in another, even when she knew that pursuit was futile.

Sleep was sparse in Maddie’s care. Caitlyn fitted, and tossed often, until she’d had enough as forwent sleep entirely. When that happened, she’d wait until she saw the sun begin to peek through the blinds, and rose with it. 

Caitlyn had often forsworn sleep in favor of doing work. It was one of her worst habits, according to her mother. When she was young, it had been her rifle training that had kept her up at night, and awake in the early hours of the morning. She had done so due to her admiration of Grayson, the former Head Enforcer, who—to this day—had the straightest shot Caitlyn had ever seen. In keeping with that admiration, Caitlyn had gone on to become an Enforcer, acing every single part of her training, as Grayson had done all those years ago. She had tried so very hard to mimic Grayson in every facet. But now, as she pried herself from Maddie’s grasp, Caitlyn realised she’d failed in that quest. 

Perhaps she wasn’t cut out to be Head Enforcer. 

Her mothers words echoed in her head: ‘You’re a Kiramman.’

And that meant… And that meant she had to be cut out for it. Whether she thought she was or not… 

With that thought, Caitlyn went to catch breakfast with her father, sparing a passing glance at Maddie’s sleeping form before she slipped out silently. Maddie would come down when she woke, no doubt, much to Caitlyn’s father’s dismay. He tolerated Maddie as much as he tolerated Vi—less so, in fact. Caitlyn couldn’t understand why, though. She’d thought that he disagreed with her… involvement with Vi from the point of view of her being from the Undercity, and her unique connection to her mother’s murderer—Jinx. But Maddie was none of that. She was from Piltover, as best as Caitlyn could tell. And that meant she must’ve been a better match, didn’t it? 

Caitlyn entered the Dining Room and took her seat opposite her father. 

He still looked as ragged as the day mother died—unwashed, with tired eyes. He hardly looked up from his morning coffee when she sat, but he greeted her politely nonetheless: “Goodmorning, Caitlyn.” 

Caitlyn smiled politely. “Goodmorning, father…” 

A beat of silence washed over them before her father spoke again. “I assume your… Maddie… is still staying with us?” he asked, his tone that polite one he used when he spoke to someone he disliked, but was forced to be amicable with. 

“Yes.” 

His left eye twitched. “Lovely.” 

Caitlyn frowned. “What is so wrong with her?” she asked. It wasn’t the first time she’d asked this, but this time she’d be pressing him until he gave her a full answer. 

“Her?” he asked. “Nothing. She’s a fine young lady.” 

“So why do you drag her at every opportunity?” 

Her father looked at her like he knew something she didn’t. “And you don’t?”

Caitlyn scoffed. “How—” 

“Vi may have been… well, Vi… But at least you were fond of her,” he said, taking a long sip of his coffee, dragging it out. “Maddie… she is a poor replacement when it comes to that.” 

“I am not fond of Vi,” Caitlyn denied. “She stopped me from taking out Jinx—I have no love lost for her.” 

“I’m not saying you should go back to Vi,” he said. “Just that you should find someone you look at without disdain in your eyes.” 

“And who, pray tell, do you propose?” Caitlyn asked, not masking the disdain in her voice. “Should I go to the next gala we host, and eye everyone there like a fresh piece of meat?”  

“Would be better than continuing to pick up strays off the street.” 

“Vi wasn’t a stray!” 

“She leeched off of you and our family to get what she wanted, that is all,” her father said sternly. 

“Isn’t that what you did with mother?” Caitlyn jeered. 

Her father stood so abruptly, that the chair he was sitting on tumbled over backwards. “I loved your mother with all my heart!… If you can’t see that, it is no wonder you’ve struggled to find that love yourself.” 

He left Caitlyn at the table, and swept out. 

It was yet another relationship that was on the brink because of Jinx; and yet another that Caitlyn had no clue how to save… Caitlyn left the house soon thereafter. She took Maddie with her, forgoing breakfast entirely. At least the maids had an easier time. 

The family driver took them to the Council building, where Caitlyn and Maddie would be meeting with Ambessa. But first there were other matters to tend to regarding the position of the other Councilors. Caitlyn had forced Jayce to renew his position on the Council now that there were few left she could trust, and the fact that many of the Councilors were dead, or otherwise openly against her. 

The greatest antagonist toward Caitlyn was Councilor Salo, who had seemed to have a few screws knocked loose in Jinx’s attack. Caitlyn had never liked him to begin with, slippery like an eel, he had no allegiance to anything but himself. He sought only to further his own agenda and to rise the ranks as far as he could, and now he saw Caitlyn as an adversary who needed disposing of. Ambessa had acknowledged this, and told her it was best to keep him close, than lose sight of him. Caitlyn wasn’t so sure. But there was no proof of anything yet, so she had no choice but to keep him around. 

Caitlyn and Maddie entered the Council Chambers. Maddie remained by the door, taking up post with Steb, who stood guard already. It was left open as they waited for the rest of the Councilors to show.

Caitlyn went for the helm of the roundtable, where none were yet present other than Jayce, who sat stiff as a board in his seat. 

“Good morning, Jayce,” Caitlyn said amicably. 

“Morning, Cait.” 

“How are things progressing with the Hextech weapons?” Caitlyn asked. 

“Progress is slow,” Jayce muttered. “As I told you yesterday.” 

Caitlyn nodded. 

“And you are certain that involving others will not speed up this process?” Ambessa asked, marching into the Council Chamber with her cohort of soldiers. One of the soldiers was rolling Salo in on his wheelchair, and planted him at his spot at the desk before taking his post behind Ambessa.

“Yes,” Jayce said. 

Caitlyn could hear the uncertainty in his tone. No doubt Ambessa would too. She wondered what Salo was thinking, as he was eerily silent today, observing like a predator stalking its prey. 

Ambessa’s lip curled. “It is… unfortunate that you are the only one who can master this technology…” 

“It’s a miracle he can do it at all,” said Caitlyn. “Considering how temperamental it is.” 

“That is what he has you believing,” Ambessa said, stepping closer. “I am not so convinced.” 

Jayce straightened in his chair. “You could have the best minds in Noxus work on Hextech and they’d never crack it,” he said. 

Caitlyn frowned. Why did he have to grow a backbone now? 

“Then how did some two-bit criminal in the Undercity manage to do it within a week?” Ambessa asked. 

“What of Viktor, your old partner?” Salo asked, finally speaking up. “He was from the Undercity, wasn’t he? Could he potentially have helped this… Jinx … crack it?”

“Viktor wouldn’t,” said Jayce. 

“You’re sure of that, are you?” Salo asked. “I’d bet not two months ago you’d have sworn on your life he’d never leave your side!” 

“That's… different,” Jayce mumbled. 

“I think otherwise…” 

Jayce frowned, then shook his head forcefully, standing. The Noxian soldiers behind Ambessa readied their weapons, but Jayce stood his ground. “Viktor was in hospital when Jinx cracked Hextech. He was dying—” Jayce shook his head again, and let out a humourless snort. “—if you can’t remember that, then I don’t think you’re fit to stay on this Council.”

“That is not for you to decide,” said Ambessa, directing her focus to Caitlyn. 

Caitlyn internally sighed. She knew she’d be dragged back into this pointless argument eventually. She’d rather be on the front lines, finding Jinx and doing things on her own terms than this. “Jinx is no ordinary criminal,” she said. “She has successfully evaded not just Piltover’s forces, but yours too—it cannot be a stretch of the imagination to think she did crack Hextech with Jayce’s notes.” 

“We’ll see how long that lasts,” said Ambessa; like usual, only focusing on the slight against her. “My sources in the Undercity have told me that Jinx has become… bolder as of late. Add to the fact you told me she has a child under her supervision will lead to the girl's downfall one way or another.” 

Caitlyn didn’t like the thought of that. If they somehow captured or, God forbid, killed that little girl and didn’t manage to finish the job… there would be naught but ash left in Piltover’s stead; and that was even if they took the Undercity with them… Caitlyn wasn’t so delusional to think Jinx wouldn’t attempt to retrieve the gemstones in Vi’s atlas gauntlets if she could, and with three gemstones in her possession… 

“If you are entertaining the idea of detaining an innocent child,” Jayce began, but Ambessa cut him off. 

“Innocent is a stretch!” Ambessa said forcefully. “Jinx and all associated with her should be treated as the criminals they are, nothing more… Once we subdue Jinx, if we let this child fester with that, in a few years there’ll be another wanting our heads.”

“We cannot be certain of that,” said Shoola, finally arriving. “The Undercity are our people, too, and those who’ve not been sentenced for any crimes should not be subject to punishment.” 

“She is in open rebellion, as is Jinx,” said Salo. “That is enough to convict.” 

The back and forth went on for a while between Ambessa and Shoola, as they continued to argue about whether or not the child in Jinx’s care should face punishment. Ambessa didn’t even get to what the punishment would be, although it was clear that death was the punishment—imprisonment was too lenient in her eyes. 

“Enough!” Caitlyn shouted eventually, silencing the room. “We can decide what to do when we have them in our custody. As it stands… As it stands we are squabbling over the wrong things.” 

“I agree,” said Ambessa. “It is time to arm ourselves with Hextech and go down there with increasing force until we have Jinx.” 

Jayce shook his head. “The weapons aren’t ready!” 

“Don’t lie, child!” Ambessa hissed. “It is not a good look on your pretty face.” 

“Jayce…” Caitlyn said. 

Jayce looked ready to argue until he was blue in the face. “Fine… But only a few should have them until they are properly field tested.”

Caitlyn nodded. “Maddie, Steb and a select few other Enforcers can have them whilst Jayce continues to work. And they are to return them to his forge when finished with them after every excursion—for him to check over.” 

Jayce nodded, looking relieved. 

“It’s settled, then,” said Caitlyn. “Jayce, get them ready… Tomorrow we’ll be in need of them.”

Late that afternoon, Caitlyn went for her meeting with Ambessa. It was the first one since her excursion to the Undercity to speak with Jayce, and she hoped she was prepared enough to face whatever the woman might have for her.

Caitlyn had taken Maddie along with her, and as they entered Ambessa’s quarters, she saw the two exchange something between them. Before everything had gone down, Caitlyn wouldn’t have thought anything of it, but now… she wasn’t so sure. 

“Caitlyn, child,” Ambessa greeted, “I trust you’re well rested for tomorrow’s excursion?” 

It was less a question and more a taunt—that she knew Caitlyn wasn’t sleeping well… she nodded nonetheless. 

“Good… good…” Ambessa said, sauntering over to Caitlyn. “We need you to be sharp when in the field, don’t we?” 

“I could be better rested had you not called me here,” Caitlyn said. 

“Oh, this won’t take too long, don’t you worry,” said Ambessa. “It’s just… I was rather disconcerted to hear you’d gone on a solo excursion down into the sewers…” 

Caitlyn didn’t show any surprise other than a blink. “You heard that, did you?” she asked. 

Ambessa nodded. “Indeed I did…” 

“What of it?” Caitlyn asked. 

Ambessa smiled. “Come now, I was just curious what interest a person from your station would have with them?” 

“I… I’ve seen first hand how the people of the Undercity think,” Caitlyn began. “Many have used the sewers to escape Piltover’s justice.” 

“So you went in alone—what if they had ambushed you?” Ambessa asked with false worry. 

“Then it’d have given you the go ahead to invade,” said Caitlyn, simply. “And Jayce the kick up the arse he needs to arm us correctly.” 

Ambessa nodded, though she didn’t seem all that convinced. “I trust you didn’t find anything of note?” 

“Not that time… the sewers are very large, and don’t take a single trip to look around.” 

“No… not from just one person, either…” said Ambessa.

Caitlyn knew now she’d fucked up. There was no way she could use the sewers alone again. But there was hardly another way to escape Ambessa’s eyes. “I didn’t find enough evidence to need a return for a while,” she said. “So our focus should remain in the Undercity, rather than its sewers.” 

“If that's what you think is best,” said Ambessa. 

Caitlyn nodded. 

Ambessa hummed, and turned to go back to her desk. “Well… I believe it’s time for us to rest before tomorrow, don’t you?” 

“No,” said Caitlyn. 

Ambessa stopped. 

“I was thinking on how Jayce may be more… receptive to our cause,” she said. “And I come back to how he always listened to your daughter, Mel.” 

Ambessa nodded slowly. “They are fond of eachother, aren’t they?” 

“More than you know…” said Caitlyn. 

“Unfortunately, I think this will be a case of Jayce being more receptive in order for us to get her back. Not the other way around.” 

Caitlyn frowned. “Where do you think she is that would require such force?” she asked. 

“I am not quite sure, child,” said Ambessa, taking a seat at her desk. “And that is why I think we require such force.”

Chapter Text

Ekko was dreaming again. It was a dream he dreamed most nights now. Through the back alley, and into the Last Drop, sneaking past Silco’s henchmen—Ekko had memorised the route. He’d tried many times to stray from the route, to do something different. But nothing ever changed. He always found himself slipping through to the basement where he knew he’d find her… 

If only he could really turn back the clock, then maybe—just maybe—he wouldn’t be plagued by these dreams. He could right all the wrongs, save Powder and Benzo, and everyone he’d ever lost. But that wouldn’t be tonight… It was never tonight. 

Still, Ekko had gotten enough control that he could hesitate at the door now. He’d linger for as long as he could until he was forced to enter from things out of his control. 

Ekko opened the door, and his legs moved on their own as they dashed into the room where he knew Powder to be. 

For a moment, they stared at each other. Ekko smiled as he always smiled but Powder didn’t. She never did. 

“What are you doing here?” she asked. It wasn’t Powder’s voice that asked it, a jagged edge marred her tone, like her throat had been torn from screams and cries. “You can’t be here.” 

“I came to save you. Save you from Silco—” 

“I don’t need saving,” she said, standing. As she stood, Powder was replaced by Jinx, and from the bed she grabbed her gun. The first pistol she’d ever made. 

“What?” Ekko asked. “He’s… He’s a monster!” 

Jinx sniffed. 

“He killed Benzo! He killed Vander!” Ekko yelled. “He’ll kill you!”

It fell on deaf ears. Jinx’s gun arm was raised, and…  “Leave, Ekko. Leave or… or I’ll—I’ll kill you.” Her arm trembled like Ekko had never seen. 

“Powder.” 

“It’s Jinx now!” 

Ekko shook his head. “Pow—” 

Jinx cocked the pistol. “ Leave! ” 

“I’m not leaving without you,” Ekko said, closing the gap. “Not after what I’ve been through to get back to you…” 

Jinx held the gun to his head. “Ekko... Leave.” 

“If… If you’re really going to kill me—do it,” Ekko said. He stepped into the pistol, letting the barrel rest on his forehead. “If Powder’s really gone… then I have no one left—nothing left to live for.” He felt the gun tremble against his forehead, and he desperately wanted to close his eyes, but he couldn’t stop staring into hers. 

Jinx held down against the trigger. She took a shaky breath in a vain attempt to steady herself. “If that’s what you want,” she said, voice quivering. “Who am I… who am I to deny you.” 

“I—” 

But Ekko’s words were cut off by the door opening. “Silco wants…. What is this?” 

Ekko recognised the gruff woman’s voice anywhere—Sevika. She stood in the doorway, but Ekko paid her little mind. He continued to stare at Jinx, who scarcely looked away from him to acknowledge the woman. 

“I…” Jinx murmured. 

“If you kill him, you’re cleaning up the mess,” Sevika said. 

Jinx didn’t let the gun down. “It’s what he wants,” she said. 

“Then let him go die in a hole somewhere, not here,” said Sevika. “I’ll see him out. Silco wants you in his office.” 

“But—” 

“Now!” 

Jinx stole one last, hate-filled glance at Ekko before she went, stalking past Sevika.

Ekko tried to follow, but Sevika grabbed him. “Not you,” she hissed. “We’re going to have a little chat.” 

Ekko struggled against her tight hold. “Let me go!” 

Sevika picked him up by the shirt and tossed him down onto one of the sofas. She marched down the stairs and loomed over him. “Your little friend Powder is gone,” she said. “As gone as her brothers and sister—gone like Benzo. You get it?” 

“Powder—” 

Sevika laughed. 

Ekko sniffed. “I’ll kill you.” 

Sevika laughed harder. She raised her prosthetic arm high above her head. “Maybe this’ll knock some sense into you,” she said, as she struck down hard against Ekko’s head. 

Ekko woke with a jolt, feeling the pain of Sevika’s blow as if it’d been that very night. He held his head and swung his legs off his bed, reaching for the light and turning it on. His head hung heavy, and he rubbed at his eyes, trying to rid the memory from his head. It didn’t work, though, and he kicked at the chair under his desk before standing. His eyes flicked up to the portrait he’d drawn of Jinx on his ceiling, and in a fit of rage he grabbed for some paint and a brush. 

Ekko stood on the bed, armed with the brightest pink he could find, and deftly painted over those eyes of Jinx’s—hoping they’d change. That finally, they’d be Jinx’s. Not Powder’s. He worked in a creative fever, trying to detail all of the malice and lust for violence he knew to be behind those eyes. He didn’t know how long that went on for, but once he was done he sagged down on the bed, looking up at it. 

What he saw… 

Ekko threw the paintbrush, and it knocked over something on his desk. 

Jinx’s eyes only held more vibrance to them. 

He went for the door—he could no longer be in this blasted room. 

If he couldn’t sleep, he’d at least do something productive. There were too many things he’d put on the back burners, and it was time he made progress on them. 

Down in his lab, he pulled out the schematics to the only device he’d ever wanted to build—a time machine. He hated the thing with all his might, and wished he didn’t dream of one day using it to right all past wrongs. Years gone by, Ekko had lost hope that his wrongs could be fixed in the present; something he once believed vehemently. Yes, he’d lost people, but there were others he still had—that still needed fighting for. That’s what had kept him in the moment. 

But Jinx felt too far gone. Even if she wasn’t. Even if Powder was still somehow in there. Because there was more to it than just bringing Powder back out—Ekko could believe she was in there all he wanted, but Jinx was the one needing convincing. And that wouldn’t come easy. His words would have to be perfect, choreographed to play into Jinx’s tendencies, and break through to Powder hidden beneath. Something he couldn’t do without knowing how it’d already go… So, time travel it was, because that would be the only way he could pull off such a feat…

The problem with a time machine laid in Ekko’s mediocre—at best—knowledge of how to manipulate the fabric of reality. And it wasn’t like there were very many people out there that would be willing to teach him. 

Ekko had no arcane abilities, no way to utilise the magic of the world without external factors; And only two in the entire world had achieved such a feat—the Man of Progress himself, Jayce Talis and his lab partner, Viktor. 

Heimerdinger had spoken of the two in passing, telling Ekko of his failures with them, and how it resulted in his retirement. These failures meant that Heimerdinger knew almost as little as Ekko when it came to Hextech, and how it worked. Not that Ekko would tell the Yordle of his desires, in fear of facing that same rejection Jayce and Viktor went through. So he was left to delve into this topic alone… 

 But that required a gemstone to study. And they weren’t easy to come by.

For a while, Ekko mulled over the idea of stealing one. Somehow. Jinx had done it, and Ekko was just as skilled in the art of theft—hell, he was the one who’d taught her how to follow people without being seen! But now that she’d done it, it would be harder to pull off. Piltover’s presence had grown in the Undercity since Jinx had stolen a gemstone, and that meant security would be ironclad where Hextech was stored. Still, there had to be a way of getting his hands on one… 

Footsteps approached. 

Ekko looked up from the time machine schematics and to them, squinting through the darkness. He saw the culprit. “Where’re you off to this time?” Ekko asked as Vi tried to sneak her way to the exit of the Firelight base. 

Vi sniffed, halting in her tracks and folding her arms. “Thought you’d be asleep.” 

“That makes two of us.” 

“What’s keeping you up?” 

“An idea…” 

Vi rolled her eyes. “Fascinating,” she drawled. “What kind of idea?”

“You could sound more enthusiastic.” In truth, he hoped she wouldn’t be. He wasn’t keen on letting her know what he was up to.

“I would if you let me have a drink—you could at least have a few beers lying around.”

Ekko rolled his eyes; he had caught Vi trying to flee the Firelight base three times in the first couple days since she’d arrived—each in an attempt to get booze. “We don’t have drink here—in case the kids get a hold of it.”

“Then what was that stinkin’ bottle you had when you came to pick me up?” 

Ekko shrugged. “I don’t have a drinking problem…” he said. He couldn’t tell her that it was because of Jinx. That would send Vi into a rage like none other—he’d found that out the hard way. 

“I don’t have a problem.” 

“And I’m a girl,” Ekko snarked.

Vi scoffed. “You’re acting like one.” 

“Did the Piltie not like your drinking either?” Ekko asked, realising how nasty it sounded once it’d come out of his mouth. 

Vi sneered, then sighed. “I… I can’t believe I let myself think…” She shook her head. “All she could see—all she could think about was killing Jinx. She didn’t even consider there was a child there, blocking the shot.”

Ekko didn’t like the way he understood—in some capacity—Caitlyn’s blind hatred for Jinx. He’d been under that spell so badly it’d taken looking into her eyes to see anything but a monster; and now all he could see was Powder trapped in that monster's skin. “You said Jinx kidnapped her—and killed her mom…” Ekko found himself saying, not really understanding his sympathy for the Piltie. 

Vi’s lip trembled at his words. She found a seat next to him and sagged down into it as if she were carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. “I… before I was taken, just after Vander’s death, I hit Powder,” she admitted quietly. “I… I… I called her a jinx.”

“I know.” 

“What?” 

Ekko chuckled without humor. “You think I just let Silco steal her away?” he asked. “No. I couldn’t let that monster take her and warp her mind… Yet, by the time I found her, then tried to take her away from him, I…” He shook his head. “Powder was gone by then, all that was left was Jinx.” 

“You… tried to save her?” Vi croaked.

Ekko nodded stiffly. 

“I…” 

“She put a gun in my face and told me she’d kill me like she’d killed Mylo and Claggor if I didn’t leave.”

“No—Ekko… no. You didn’t.”

“It was Sevika who saved me, oddly enough... Told Jinx that if she shot me, then she’d be the one who needed to clean up the mess and dispose of the body… After that, well—Sevika grabbed me and threw me out, said next time she wouldn’t be so nice.” 

“Bet she regrets that decision.” 

Ekko shrugged. “Not like she could’ve known I’d find this place and actively seek to bring Silco and Jinx down…” 

There was a lull in the conversation after that, and Ekko watched Vi, seeing how her eyes were drawn to the mural, as his so often were. He realised now just how much he’d missed her over the years; had she been around, maybe they could’ve saved Powder that day he’d attempted to rip her from Silco’s clutches. Perhaps she’d have known what to say, been brave enough to stick it to Sevika when she’d come knocking… But who was to say? 

Ekko had gone over the memory a million times in his head. He even dreamed it on occasion, like tonight, although calling the memory a dream was a stretch—it was more like a nightmare, really. He wished he’d said something different, as if that would’ve helped. For a long time he’d thought that no matter what he’d said, he’d never have been able to save Powder, because she never cared for him like he cared for her. But their fight on the bridge had changed all that… And now he was kicking himself again for not trying harder to take Jinx with him when he’d fled the bridge, instead of leaving her there, barely breathing. 

If his leg hadn’t been busted he would’ve. That he was certain. What he would’ve done after she was here he couldn’t say. But getting her away from Silco was the first step. He guessed, in some roundabout way, that Silco was now out of the picture, and maybe that could give him the opening he needed…

He heard the ghost of Powder’s laugh echo in his ears. 

“I thought you’d die on that bridge,” Vi said softly, her voice barely a whisper. “... I thought Jinx would kill you, or… or—” 

“I’d kill her?” 

Vi nodded. 

“We almost did die,” Ekko admitted. 

“Is that why Jinx has all the…” Vi gestured vaguely with her hands. 

“All the what?” 

“She’s… it’s like she’s been enhanced with Shimmer. She can move so fast now, and she has inhuman strength—especially for someone her size…” Vi shuddered. “And her eyes, Ekko…” 

“I haven’t seen her since our fight,” Ekko lied. “Been staying here, keeping things afloat.” 

“You know what I did, though.” Vi said. 

“I… why?” Ekko asked, “Why did you do it?” 

Vi sagged. “I needed to bring Jinx down… so she’d stop smearing the memory I have of my sister.”

Ekko wanted to say that she still was her sister—somehow. But he thought better of it. “I tried that for a long time,” he said instead. “And I had… I got the opportunity on the bridge.” 

Vi’s head darted up, looking at him. “You what?” 

“I had her pinned under me…” Ekko closed his eyes, and all he could see were Powder’s eyes as she accepted her fate and let the bomb roll from her hand, ready to kill them both. “She pulled the pin of her grenade… god, I should’ve let it take us both. I… I…” Ekko shook his head, and fought against the tears. “But It… It wasn’t Jinx who pulled the pin, not the crazed maniac, gleeful to kill. No… No, it was Powder I saw under me, scared and helpless, but somehow ready to accept death alongside me.”

“Powder’s gone.” 

Ekko shook his head. 

“Powder wouldn’t do what Jinx has done.” 

“If… If you think that, then you never really knew Powder.” 

“And you did?” Vi accused. “You told me that Powder was gone, and now you’re here saying Powder is as bad as Jinx!?” She stood. 

Ekko stood too. “I knew her enough to know she was capable of killing. She made bombs, Vi. That was never just a Jinx thing.”

“No—” 

“What—you think they were some harmless fun?” Ekko said, getting right up into Vi’s face. “Killing Enforcers was what we grew up dreaming of… Jinx stayed true to that, not you. If anything, you’re the one who changed.”

Vi rose to Ekko’s challenge. “She did more than kill Enforcers and you know it! She killed your friends, Ekko—murdered them in cold blood, without reason!” 

“And what have you done with that little Enforcer girl of yours? The big Piltie princess who came down here to wage war.” 

“Only because of Jinx!” 

“It’s what they deserve, Vi. Or have you forgotten?” 

Vi’s hands curled into fists. 

“They put you in prison, Vi… left you there to rot—and you think because one of them brought you out and gave you some meaningless badge that they’re alright—that they don’t think we’re scum!?” 

“Silco—” 

“Wanted you dead. Not in prison. Who do you—” 

Suddenly, Ekko was on the ground, Vi looming over him. He felt the bruise forming on his right cheek, and he put his hand up to gently touch it. “You… hit me,” Ekko said with no little amount of disbelief. 

Vi sniffed. “You really sound like a girl now.” 

Ekko pounced, and rugby tackled Vi to the ground, feeling a jolt in his bad leg as he did so, yet continuing his assault nonetheless. He sat on top of her, struggling to pin her arms to the ground as her knee sought to find where on his leg was injured. Vi found it eventually, and her knee crashed into his leg violently. It caused Ekko to falter, and he planted an elbow into her nose to get a momentary reprieve—all the while he attempted to pin down her legs so she couldn’t repeat the strike to his bad leg again. 

Through their fight, they must’ve made a great deal of noise, because before Ekko knew it, Scar was dragging him off the top of Vi. Ekko struggled against Scar’s hold, trying his best to break free, but it was in vain. As Scar pulled Ekko from her, Vi gritted her teeth, and Ekko saw her eyes flick down to his bad leg… He tried harder to break from Scar’s hold as he saw the malice behind her eyes, but as she saw him struggling, her eyes softened, and she sighed. 

“Why does it always turn to violence?” Vi asked quietly.

“I was going to ask the two of you that very question,” said Scar, letting Ekko go. 

Ekko stumbled to catch his footing, and limped over to his chair where he took a seat and sat in a way to defend his bad leg. He sniffed.

“You’re acting less mature than my newborn when she doesn’t want to eat her veg,” Scar said, looking between the two, eyes flicking back and forth. “If we cannot keep from fighting one another, how are we going to fight Piltover?” 

Vi looked away. 

Ekko twiddled his thumbs. 

“Ekko…” Scar said, grabbing a chair and sitting opposite him. “How on earth are you going to set a good example to the youngsters if you fall directly back into what you preach against?..” he asked, but didn’t wait for Ekko to answer. “You need to set an example for them, one that they can follow… is fighting really that?” 

Ekko shook his head. “I…” 

Scar didn’t linger on chiding Ekko. “And you,” he said, turning on Vi. “You’re back here on courtesy alone. Don’t think I don’t know why you’re up at this hour… Bring anything that could harm the kids here, and there’s nothing Ekko or Heimerdinger can say that will convince me to not kick you out.” 

Vi nodded and muttered an apology. 

“I need to go back up to my kid,” Scar said, looking between them again. “Can I leave you two alone or do I need to wake Heimerdinger?” He didn’t wait for an answer, he knew they’d say they were fine alone, and left them in Ekko’s lab in silence. 

The silence lasted a while, and it gave Ekko time to mull through his thoughts. Vi’s query of ‘why does it always turn to violence?’ ran through his head. It was something that needed correcting. He thought that would be him stopping it between others, yet it seemed he needed to start with himself. “I’m sorry for tackling you.” 

“And I’m sorry for punching you,” said Vi, shaking her head and leaning back in her chair. “If you’re going to give them war, Ekko… I don’t want any part of it.” 

“I don’t want war, Vi.” Ekko sighed. “I just want the freedom we deserve… It’s all I’ve ever wanted for the Lanes.”

“I…” 

“You’ve seen the increased patrols, haven’t you—you’ve seen all the new looking Enforcers, who must be from that Noxian woman who whispers in the Piltie Dictator’s ear.” 

“Don’t call her that.” 

Ekko shook his head, and let the comment slide. “They’re killing us, Vi.” 

“And what do you supposed we do about it?” 

“More than I’ve been doing, that’s for sure,” he said. But Ekko knew there was only one way things could be sorted out… If they could get everyone in the undercity to fight, Piltover would still be better off… it wasn’t enough to have man power, they needed a failsafe, a way they couldn’t lose. And the only way they could have that… “Scar’s been angling for me to go out into the Lanes more, to try and rally people together.” 

Vi snorted. “They want Jinx for that, not you.” 

“What?” 

“Damn, little man, you really have had your head in the dirt, haven’t you?” Vi said, shaking her head, smiling ruefully. “In the bars, at least, you get a few drinks down any one of the men, and they’ll spout how Jinx needs to raise arms against Piltover.” 

Ekko frowned. 

“They loved her move against the Council… They think that’s the only way we’ll win—for her to go in, guns blazing, and assassinate all who’ve oppressed us.” 

“Scar… didn’t tell me about that.” 

“Why would he? He wants you as that person, not her.” 

“Still…” 

“For what it’s worth, Ekko—I agree with him. What you’ve done here—besides the lack of booze—is nothing short of a miracle,” said Vi. “Jinx… she might—and that’s a big might—be able to bring Piltover to kneel with her forceful ways, but she can’t bring about a prosperous city.”

“But I’ll never be able to bring Piltover to kneel… God knows I’ve tried, Vi.” The solution was a simple one, Ekko knew, yet neither spoke it. Ekko’s eyes fell back to the mural, to Powder. 

There were so many things wrong with the situation, and Ekko’s head, that it was hard to unravel them all. On the one hand, he knew at the very least that Powder was still in Jinx, somewhere, but on the other… Jinx was more violent than Powder, there was no way to sugar coat it. Powder had wanted to fight the Enforcers, but she’d never, ever dreamed of hurting those she once loved—who were once family… Not until Silco.

 “I never should’ve given you that tip,” Ekko said. “Never should’ve… never—” 

“Ekko… you couldn’t have known.” 

Ekko shook his head, and let his hand trace over the schematics for the time machine... “If I could go back…”

“Ekko…” 

Ekko tittered. “But only fools dwell on the past, don’t they?” 

Vi sniffed. “Might make me the biggest fool of them all.” 

“I fear… I top that scale,” Ekko said, chuckling without humour. 

“Call it a draw, little man.” 

“You never could take a loss, could you?” 

Vi smiled, but it didn’t last. She looked down at her hands, and fiddled with the bandages on her knuckles. “I’m sorry… for the grey—for the part I played in all of this.” 

“If we sit here and apologise for all our wrongs, only Heimerdinger will be left to hear it,” said Ekko, mirthfully. 

Vi chuckled, and shook her head. “I still can’t believe the two of you get on as well as you do,” she said. 

“That makes two of us,” Ekko said. 

“You say you met after your fight with Jinx?” 

Ekko hummed. “He helped me get back here… during the long trek back we got talking… I… I was surprised to hear what he had to say—and I think he was surprised to hear my responses.” 

Vi nodded to his statement, and then grew wistful. “Caitlyn… was like that—when we first met... She listened … Not just listened, but really took in what I had to say… There was a moment, just after you helped us back topside, that I thought we’d really have a chance at making a difference… But that didn’t go to plan, and now we’re in a worse position than we’ve ever been.”

It didn’t come as a surprise that Caitlyn had qualities beyond what Ekko had known. If he were being honest with himself, just in the brief interaction he’d had with her, he’d gotten that picture. 

Vi chuckled humorlessly. “And to think all of this came about because of one little gemstone.” 

“It was the catalyst, not the route cause,” said Ekko. “Tensions had been building since before we were born, it was just blown open by Jinx stealing that gemstone.” 

Vi hummed. “I’m surprised nothing came of me taking two more…” she muttered. 

“What?” Ekko asked.

“I took a pair of those gauntlets Talis made… they’re still in that shoddy apartment I was staying in as we speak.” 

Ekko blinked. A gemstone was all he needed to run the experiments for the time machine, and now Vi told him she had not one, but two?... 

Vi must’ve seen something come across his face, because she frowned at him. “What idea’s running through your head, little man?” 

“Just that maybe we shouldn’t leave them unattended like that… in case they get into the wrong hands.” 

“Uh-huh,” Vi said, folding her arms, looking unimpressed. “And—I assume—that if we get these, you’ll conveniently want to have a look at the gemstones… for research purposes.” 

Ekko stowed his glance away. 

“Too bad they’re all the way in the darkest pits of the sump,” said Vi. “We’d have to go and get them—and in doing that leave all your firelight chums wondering where we’ve snuck off to.” 

“That depends on if they notice we’re gone.” 

Vi smiled. “I’ll do it on one condition.” 

“Yeah?” 

“I get to have a drink on the way.” 

Ekko folded his arms. 

“I won’t bring it back here,” she said earnestly. 

“Fine,” said Ekko. “But this isn’t going to be a regular occurrence.”

“A deals a deal, little man.”

*

Ekko’s hoverboard proved hard to ride with his busted leg. VI had done a number to it with her knee, and he struggled to keep standing as they weaved their way through the pipes. It didn’t help that Vi was sat on the front of it, legs dangling off, making it harder to control. But the task at hand was more important than Ekko’s leg, and so he forced himself to get a grip and continue onwards. 

They decided they would go to get a drink first. Something Ekko was all too keen on doing, in hope it’d give even a modicum of reprieve from his bad leg. 

Vi had been going to what had become of the Last Drop, but Ekko thought it best if they laid lower, and went to find somewhere off the radar to grab a quiet drink. They found some decrepit back alley bar off to the side of the main drag, and went in. 

“What’ll it be?” the bartender asked. He was a small, balding man with thin eyebrows. 

“A bottle of your finest whisky and two glasses,” said Vi as she padded over to the bar. 

The barman put the mug he was polishing away and nodded. 

“Vi,” said Ekko, “you think an entire bottle is the best idea?”

“I won’t make you pay, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she said, then winked at him. “If there’s one thing good about those fighting pits, it’s the pay.” Vi pulled out a small bag of coins and placed it on the table. 

The barman slid over two glasses and pulled a decadent bottle of whiskey from under the counter, placing it beside the glasses. “There you are.” 

Vi grabbed the whiskey and glasses and Ekko followed her to a table in the darkest corner of the bar, where they sat down. Vi poured them both a glass.

Ekko took his wearily, as he watched Vi hold up her glass and give the whiskey a sniff. 

“Ooh!” she said, “this is the same stuff Vander used to keep.” 

Ekko gave her a look. 

“What? I never drank the stuff… much.” 

Ekko took a sip of it and winced. 

“Stuff to put some hair on your chest,” Vi said. 

“There ought to be better ways,” Ekko muttered. 

“There are,” said Vi, nodding. “None are as fun, unfortunately…” 

“And this is?” Ekko asked, trying to drink the whisky without wincing. 

“Get a few of ‘em down you and then you tell me,” said Vi, necking back her glass and pouring herself another. She admired the drink, holding it high and trying to get the light to shine on it, swirling it around in the glass before sighing contentedly. “I needed this.” 

As he drank, both the nagging pain in his ankle, and the searing pain of the whiskey going down his throat dissipated. When the first wave of euphoria hit, with that gentle buzz behind his eyes clouding his vision, Ekko wasn’t quite sure them both being drunk was the best idea when they were about to collect a pair of gauntlets that—if caught with—would land them in Stillwater for the rest of their lives. 

And yet, the more he drank the less he seemed to care. 

Vi certainly didn't care. She’d had double the amount Ekko had, and was in no way looking to stop. But after a while, as she drank more, the smile she had slipped away and a deep longing took its place. She ran her finger around the rim of her glass, then picked it up and drank it haggardly. She groaned, shut her eyes and whispered: “Why do I miss her?” 

Ekko had been asking himself the same question, only about another. “People want what they can’t have,” he said, finishing off his glass. 

They stayed in silence for a while. Neither went to fill their glass again. 

The silence allowed Ekko to listen in on a conversation another group was having. He wasn’t paying too much attention until… 

“I hear Jinx’ll be there,” a man with one eye said. 

“That’s what Sevika wants you to think,” the one-eyed man’s companion, wearing a top-hat replied.“I bet it’ll just be her again—spouting that rubbish about us fighting Topside.” 

Ekko glanced at Vi, but she seemed to be in a world of her own, staring down at her glass dejectedly. 

“Why shouldn’t we fight Topside?” the one-eyed man said.

“Your eye gives me a reason.” 

“All the more reason to fight,” said the one-eyed man. 

“Until you lose your other eye,” the man with the top-hat jeered. 

“Gah! They can take my eyes—not my spirit.” 

The man with the top-hat shook his head mirthfully. “So you’re going tomorrow.” 

“Damn right. And Jinx will be there this time—I swear it,” the one-eyed man said. “Didn’t you hear she met with the Chembarons? If she’s doing that, then she’ll be heading this rally—mark me words.”

The conversation cleared the whiskey-induced haze Ekko had been under, and he stood from the table. “Come on, Vi. It’s time we go.” 

Vi looked up at him and blinked. “Already?” 

Ekko nodded. “You can take the bottle if you want—we’ll spend the rest of the night at this apartment of yours and go back home in the morning.” 

Vi grunted, but stood and grabbed the bottle. “You sure?” 

Ekko nodded. He wouldn’t say that the real reason they were staying was because he wanted to see this rally—and Jinx—with his own eyes, and that staying away from the firelight base would be the easiest way to do so. “I’ll come up with an excuse as to why we were gone in the morning, once we’ve slept this off.” 

Stumbling, they made their way to Vi’s apartment, which wasn’t too far off the bar, and staggered in. The first thing Ekko noticed was the utter state Vi had left it in, as she flopped onto the bed and cradled the almost empty bottle of whiskey in her arms as if it were her child. 

“Where are the gauntlets, Vi?” Ekko asked. 

Vi used the bottle to point in their general direction, and Ekko spotted them under a pile of drunk bottles of liquor. He fished one gauntlet from the floor and held it up, inspecting it. “Can’t say they aren’t good at what they do up there,” he mused. 

Vi grunted. 

Ekko searched around for a bag or something to put them in, knowing there was no way they could wander the streets with them out willy-nilly. He couldn’t, though, the room was too dark and his vision too blurred—so he placed the gauntlet down where he found it and looked at the bed. 

It wasn’t big enough for the two of them. Not really. Someone from Piltover would say the bed wasn’t big enough for one person. 

Vi looked at him. “You coming to bed or what?” she asked. 

Ekko kicked off his boots and laid down in the bed next to her. Within seconds, Vi was snoring, but he knew sleep would come harder for him. It always did.

It wasn’t unusual for those in the Undercity to share beds, Ekko knew Vi and Powder had done so, even though they had two beds. Ekko never experienced that, not properly. He’d been given his own bed by Benzo, although there had been the off occasion where he’d had a nightmare or been too scared to sleep alone, and slipped out of his bed and snuck into Benzo’s to sleep. 

There had been that one time with Powder too… When Vi was off doing god knows what, so Powder had slipped away from the Last Drop and showed up in Ekko’s room—holding her bunny. They never talked about it after that, it was as if it never happened. Even Vander, who’d been frantic the next morning—storming into Benzo’s shop distraught—hadn’t mentioned it again after he’d seen them tinkering with Ekko’s pocket watch that following morning. But as much as it had never been mentioned again, Ekko had never forgotten it… after all, he’d never slept so well as he had that night. 

Not ever. 

Morning came with a pounding headache, his leg screaming at him, and no small ounce of regret. Ekko had woken to him and Vi hugging, but quickly pried himself away to deal with the gauntlet situation. He opened a window, hoping that some modicum of light would break through, and began his search for a bag. 

“Why are you up so damn early?” Vi asked, groaning as she put a pillow over her eyes. 

Ekko glanced at his pocket watch. It was a little past midday. But he knew that already from how busy the streets were getting. “Scar and Heimerdinger will be getting worried.”

“Like you care,” Vi said. “You’re going to that bloody rally.” 

Ekko stopped in his tracks. 

Vi snorted. “You think I was so out of it I didn’t hear those buffoons talking—or notice that you were listening?” she said, prying herself from the bed and sitting up. “You’re just lucky that I want to go see it, too.” 

Ekko rolled his eyes. “Do you have a bag?”