Silco needed to get his shit together. They'd found themselves back at The Last Drop without much of any idea as to what ultimately went down between Smeech's and Renni's crews, but it was beginning to feel besides the point; Topside had boots in Zaun. It was all Sevika could think about, though finding the correct sequence of words with which to voice the feeling to her boss was beginning to feel as big a feat as any they'd faced those last few nights.
"Light, Sevika," he muttered, leaning over to her. "Mine's empty."
She obliged, observing his sunken, drained eyes while he leant back with his cigar in mouth.
They'd packed as many as they could fit into the place, all crammed around tired tables and huddled about the edges of the room. Hardly anybody's glasses were empty; they seemed to all sense that much remained unaddressed, awaiting some sense of direction for what lay next. Morale felt off. Breaching Stillwater had done about as well for their numbers as they could have hoped, but for all of their readiness to break things in Piltover, the crews they'd assembled felt more like disparate packs of rogues without missions; they'd remain so until Silco finally turned his eye Northward.
No— everybody could feel where his priorities lay. Everybody knew what he was stressing about. It had been his greatest folly; adopting that girl, all those years back. He'd raised her to embody all of the city's worst impulses, and boy had she done a number on him in return. There were times when Sevika wavered; when she felt that the once revolution-minded leader she'd chosen to follow was dead, killed off by Jinx.
She looked at him again, understanding that he wouldn't, and couldn't rest; it was the lack of knowing that ate at him. If he'd found her body earlier that night it would have been one thing, but…
For Sevika, she'd come to her conclusion the moment she'd seen the butchered remains of the girl's friend; body or no, Jinx hadn't made it out of there…
She continued to hold her tongue, watching Silco brush off his coat and finally stand, his attention on their boisterous crowd.
'Go on,' she thought. All they needed to hear was that the warden of Zaun still had his head in the game.
He stubbed out his cigar on the countertop ashtray, before giving her a curt nod. She returned it, slipping her fingers between her teeth and letting out a whistle for all the building to hear.
"Zaunites," he proclaimed, after all eyes had turned in the direction of the bar. "A night ago, many of you regained your freedom from an unjust imprisonment—"
A few cheers and hollers broke out, and Silco waited for them to cease before continuing. "While a warm room and drink in your belly is no doubt preferable over the cold, concrete floors of Stillwater, it would concern me if you hadn't realized that your newfound freedom is a false one — the Zaun you left behind, if you'd so recall, neither had Topsider airships looming in its skies, nor enforcers sweeping its streets, granting no disparity between civilian and fighter…"
C'mon; bring it home, boss…
"Our city, our people, have lived with their boot pressed upon our throat for as long as we all have memory of it. After we rebelled the first time, they merely let up on the pressure; allowed us the sliver of air that they imagined might sustain us, or worse— that we'd forget it was even there at all."
He took a half-step forward, and she could hear the fire in his tone.
"I look at all of you, and I see not a man or woman I'd foresee entertaining such a farce were it to occur in some back-alley brawl, to yourselves, to your friends or your families, so I ask you how we are to accept it with all of Zaun, all of our collective spirits at the thug's mercy…? What little differences we have must fall to the wi—"
A commotion had begun to sound from behind the pack, all falling into discontented murmurs and displeased pushing.
'Somebody causing trouble?' she wondered, hopping up to see if she could peer over the tumult. The crowd seemed resolute to let the person through, instead; a narrow parting nearing the front, where—
Fuck— the smell…
She realized then why everybody had recoiled from the intruder, while he stormed toward them without slowing, a pungent stench filling Sevika's nose…
Garou's hair was a crimson-red, and he reeked of blood. She could hardly believe her eyes.
He marched up and without hesitation wrenched Silco up by his clothing with an inhuman grip, greeting him with eyes of death while he had his back shoved up against the bar.
"You were there eh, old man…?" the kid snarled, while Silco's mouth sat agape.
Sevika made a shove toward them both, but the kid's hold on her boss wasn't to be broken. Garou returned hers in kind, sending her to the floor, while the crowd before them stirred to anger.
She watched him send the first one to touch him flying through the rest with a sharp thrust of his foot, bodies toppling over other bodies. He carried out the movement so swiftly that she could only gawk at the sheer power he was able to generate without so much as a wind-up. The blow caused the rest to hesitate in their advance, but it was only Silco's voice that finally halted them.
"Enough—!" he growled, his jaw tightened and his eye turned to Garou. "What do you suppose we found there, boy? Your failed heroism clearly gave them the time to move her," he spat. "Tell me— how exactly did Singed find you after you'd fallen? Are you the twisted project on which he refused to brief me, before he defected—"
Garou pressed him against the bar again, causing Silco to grimace and momentarily lose his voice.
"Why would I need some geezer just to help me wake up?" he said, eliciting a look of confusion from Silco and Sevika both. "If you haven't found Blue either, then what the hell are you doing back here givin' some damned speech for?"
"I have my men scouring the city for her, you fool," Silco replied in irritation. "Her cave was home to naught but ghosts when we passed through, and she's quite obviously not here — I can only assume that Renni has taken her, wherever that woman has managed to scurry off to…"
It was true; they'd turned the compound upside down, and of the two Chem-Barons they'd only managed to find a half of Smeech, mangled and fur-stripped and swarmed with flesh-eating flies, discarded at the perimeter of the compound.
She watched Garou give a grunt and finally release her boss from his grasp. The crowd had since carved out a generous space for them; the potent stench of death on him hadn't at all dissipated since his entering. It left Sevika with a dark sense of foreboding.
"Kid," she called at him, for his head to twitch in her direction. "You might be cursed…"
He gave a brief glance toward the grumbling pack that surrounded them, as though sensing some ploy, before raising an eyebrow at her. "Eh…?"
"You were dead," she stated. "When we found you, there was no life in you— all of your blood was outside of your body…"
He proceeded to facetiously give himself a look-over. "Obviously not all of it…" he snarked, before returning his attention to Silco.
"What about the little one…?" he muttered, nearly too quietly for Sevika to make out.
"What about her?" Silco returned.
"She was gone too, when I woke up…" he said.
Silco seemed to ponder his meaning, though it was lost on Sevika.
Without another word between them, Garou plunged back through the crowd and was gone, leaving them all looking as puzzled and frustrated as she was.
She caught her breath, finally able to breathe freely again, before turning to her boss in hopes of some answers as to what understanding had seemingly occurred between them.
Silco only reopened his cigar box, and asked her for another light.
~~~~~
~~~~~
~~~~~
"—But that was back when there were more of us, before they torched our other home and, well, yeah…" Ekko went on as they walked. "The flying boards were my idea though— Scar and I were the first to really get the hang of riding them, and then we taught all of the others to as well…"
"He can only build so many so fast though, Councillor," Scar chimed in. "The spot we're hiding out at now, well, it's hard to get him the kinds of fine metal scrap he needs to make 'em— venturing out too far puts our people at risk…"
"We can't lose any more people right now," Ekko wistfully agreed, "we just can't do it…"
He glanced down at Heimerdinger after there'd been some silence, and felt surprised to see him looking at a loss for words.
The Yordle quickly shook his head. "I— I'm sorry, dear boy, but… I really did have not the faintest idea of the types of hardships that so many folks were facing on this side of the river…" He let out a labored sigh, before perking himself up once more. "I do hope you'll show me these greenhouses you told me your people have managed to cobble together — I had a passing interest in horticulture a century and a half back, and I'd be glad to lend some insight! I'm certain that with our heads put together we can solve the material issue regarding your flying boards too, though I'd firmly warn that at no point would I wish to find myself on one of those frightening things again."
Ekko and Scar both laughed at that, and Ekko was glad to tell the Councillor that they were close now, that no further flying would be necessary.
The new hideout was quaint compared to the vastness of the last, but that fact did somehow make him feel safer; like they had less of a chance of being discovered this way. The Firelights' previous mapping of the undercity's system of underground ventilation ducts proved more than useful in helping them to find the place, and incidentally that was the only way the place could be accessed; through the air ducts. The fan that pumped in fresh air from above ground level lay above their tight cluster of dwellings; Ekko had managed to position a set of mirror relays by which to amplify the level of sunlight they could receive during the day too, such that their crops could grow.
As he'd told Heimerdinger, they'd returned to their old hideout on several daring occasions to retrieve all that the fire hadn't burned out; among which they'd hauled back by steamboat several fragments of the glass dome that had once shielded the old tree. They'd then recycled the glass itself and used the newly set panes to construct a couple of small, octagonal greenhouses underneath the mirrors in their new home, where they'd taken to growing their staple grains and vegetables, like carrots and tomatoes and cabbage and chard. While fish were relatively abundant about the region's waters, Silco made certain that his people alone were responsible for any and all fishing activities not carried out by Piltover's great trawlers; the Firelights could hardly look to them as a food source, so they would ration their crops between the few of them that remained.
It warmed him to see Heimerdinger's eyes widen with delight as they stepped out of the shaft, in admiration of what the new Firelights had managed to pull together with the little they had. He admired the Yordle's mind; he was curious, and optimistic, despite his brief telling of the betrayal he seemed to have suffered by his own City Council.
"Please bring me to meet every last person in your merry band of so-called 'Firelights', dear lads," he said, and the fur of his mustache gave a giddy twitch as they led him forward.
It had been the children that had rushed out to meet him first, loudly describing him as 'fluffy' and 'cuddly' and wishing to play with and primp his fur through the rest of his introductions. Ekko had to shoo them off eventually, but Heimerdinger had found himself back in their small recreation after his tour, telling them all manner of stories about the city he'd founded across the river until they grew tired.
Ekko found himself pulling up a seat next to him as he ended his tale.
"—But the boy Jayce that I once knew is now a man grown, with all of the world's potential before him. An impressive lad, that one; came from the most humble of beginnings as a simple hammer-making family called 'Talis', you see? Hammers have little to do with blue, magical crystals and 'Hex-gates' as we named them, but, he had a dream, and he believed in himself…"
Few of the children had the energy to continue listening, but Ekko took in his words.
"So… why did Jayce knock you off, then?" Ekko asked him. "If he's such a great scientist like you say, why wouldn't he want someone like you around?"
Heimerdinger bowed his head slightly. "Ah, to a young visionary like he, I represent the oldguard — someone so cautious that progress would only be hindered by having me kept around…"
Ekko's brow furrowed at his answer. "But— look at what Piltover are doing to us now," he argued. "This is what the Council are willing to 'okay' without you around; with your Jayce Talis heading up the Council instead of you."
He gave a wince at Ekko's words. "In truth, my boy, it does frighten me to contemplate the ideations that might inform the minds of my former colleagues… It is also the case that, knowing what I now know, I can easily criticize my past follies, some of them being so great that Piltover's failings, past and current, might rest squarely on my shoulders alone— I've certainly contemplated it, my lad…"
Ekko's expression turned slightly bitter. "You're saying that you were okay with it, the last rebellion, the one where I lost my parents…?"
Heimerdinger's sigh was deeply sorrowful. He placed a gentle hand on Ekko's elbow, looking down at his shoes. "I can only express my regret for my blind, neglectful eye, lad… I can't imagine anything I could say to you could make up for all that you or your fellow city-men have lost, but for whatever it is worth, no— I have never seen bloodshed or violence as the answer to any of life's misgivings…"
Ekko reluctantly nodded, giving his small, soft hand a pat. "So… it's the rest of them, then? Pushing for this war?"
He slightly tilted his head to and fro, giving it some thought. "Before I was removed, I'd caught word of the arrival of a general from Noxus, along with her militia guard," he said. "The news never did sit right with me, but a lady of Noxian heritage currently sits the Council, you see, so I hadn't imagined there being any more to it… I have reason to believe that the Noxians never left, however, at least not until I had crossed the river— the circumstance as of now, I cannot say."
Ekko sat in the picture he'd painted. Were their enemies only multiplying? No— those were Silco's enemies; waging rebellion against Topside wasn't the goal of the Firelights. Their goal was to thrive in the inhospitable, to be the light in the darkness. Their fight was here, in building up this place for the orphaned children of the city; orphans like Ekko, like Mylo and Claggor from back then, or still-living old friends, like Vi, and…
Powder.
He had to wonder if he'd ever find himself sitting here, palling around with Vi just like old times. He hoped it might come to pass, but… he'd never allow Jinx to step foot anywhere near this place. He hoped for Vi's sake, that she'd give up trying.
"I won't disturb your thoughts, lad," Heimerdinger said quietly, causing Ekko to snap from his daze. "I thank you for granting me a place to turn in for the night, and with your permission, I might do so now."
"Yeah— of course, man, yeah," he replied, yawning himself.
"As of tomorrow, I am at your service," he said cheerfully. "Do get some rest, lad."
Ekko nodded and offered a smile, hoping tomorrow would be all he'd dream about.
~~~~~
~~~~~
~~~~~
Her sister's hand tugged at her shoulder, while Jinx hurriedly strapped herself with the additional satchels she'd require having been forced to return to traditional ammunition until she claimed Zapper back.
Her sister's hand…
It still beggared belief in her head, no matter how intently she'd studied Vi's face for discrepancies from her etched-in memories of her… Well— in truth, Vi looked quite a bit different now that she was older; for one, there was dark ink all over her, making her look almost similar to some of Silco's menacing catspaws, when added with her chiseled frame. Jinx had thought that she'd put on some muscle herself in those past few years, and though her sister's memory had always loomed larger than she could've ever hoped to, she still hadn't been prepared to see this version of Vi. They could probably take Piltover on themselves, just the three of them: her, Vi, and... Garou…
She twitched, finally granting her sister her attention as she urged her to stop packing bullets.
"Powder, listen to me," she pleaded, "I'm worried about Silco finding us first— he was looking for you there already, so we shouldn't go back there, do you understand? He can't know I'm here with you…"
She gritted her teeth the way she would at Vi when she was a child, having to listen to her sister tell her something was too dangerous and that she was too little, despite the truth of what she was currently saying. "You said Garou was there," she argued, almost through tears, clasping her pouches shut while Isha went to fetch her some more. "I need to see him…"
Vi seemed pained by her refusal. "Let's just go somewhere safe first, Powder— I have friend who can help us out."
She looked at her. "What friend…?" Part of her wondered if Vi was somehow referring to Ekko.
"He was my cell-neighbor in Stillwater— we can trust him, I promise," she replied. "It's not too far."
Jinx looked down at Isha, who was presenting her with her old pistol.
"I'm safe with you," she said to Vi, holstering the pistol and pulling Isha into a hug.
She could tell that Vi was doing that thing where she'd bite at her tongue, behind her closed lips. She was clearly frustrated with her, but it was only because still saw Powder, not Jinx; she didn't realize that she could take care of herself now, and that they'd be plenty well off just sticking together and braving whatever the world threw at them. It was all they should have ever done. Vi was the one who went and ruined that, not her…
Vi reached for her arm again. "Powde—"
"—Stop," she cut in, intercepting the hand before it could touch her. She glared steadfastly into her sister's bright blue eyes; an even lighter shade than her own. "Are you gonna leave me…?" The words hurt as they came out; weakened her tone. "If things aren't the way you want, are you gonna go with this friend of yours and leave…?"
They might have hurt Vi even more.
Vi clutched at her face. "Don't ever say that, Powder…"
The frustration written upon her sister's face was the type she'd usually get out by hitting things, back when they were kids; the boxing machine at the old arcade had always been a favorite spot. Jinx had since grown to understand that feeling, so she felt some pity as Vi held her by the cheeks, wanting for a set of words that would assure her of her love and loyalty, and that everything that had ever come between them was no more than a distant regret.
"It— it's okay…" Jinx said, softening, understanding all that sat unspoken between them. She let out a heavy breath, and managed the faintest smile. "I always knew you'd come back…"
The tear that she'd seen welling underneath Vi's eye finally loosed, rolling down her tattooed cheek. "We'll always be sisters, okay…?" Vi promised. "I'll follow your lead on this one, if that's what you want…"
Jinx was glad that Isha didn't seem to mind being sandwiched between them as they embraced. She remembered in that moment that she still had a Hextech-powered gift for the little squirt, and that she'd be better off having it if they were going to be heading out into danger.
She pulled back, giving a glance at her sister's battered knuckles; at the blood seeping through their sullied dressings.
"Let me get you some new bandages, at least," she said, "then we'll go."
Vi nodded, and wiped her eyes. "Look at you, taking care of me…" she ruefully chuckled.