There had been a fight; she remembered being in a brawl, with that crazed metal-armed woman… the rain; the thunder; the perilous rooftop-hopping in the night…
She had gotten knocked out. In fact, she had been rather useless through it all… that other silver-haired woman—her some nimble, experienced soldier—she had been there too; had almost rescued her from it all, but…
Then she remembered being taken again. Again. Was it all she was good for…? Who had taken her now?! What dark and decrepit basement would she open her eyes to this time—?
Oh…
She was in her bedroom. Her childhood bedroom; she'd recognize that painted ceiling for as long as she'd live. It must all be a dream, she thought; the mattress of her bed felt far too soft…
"Cait…?"
It was her father's voice. She dreamed of him often; even more so during her initial capture, but…
"Easy, don't try to move too quickly, sweetheart…" His voice felt so warm; she only wanted to go to it, to wrap herself up in it…
"Can you hear me, Cait…?"
"Yes…" she heard herself say, and suddenly it didn't feel so much like a dream anymore. She'd ripped her covers off already, and then she saw all of the gauze and the bandages; her body felt horrid, and yet…
She felt her father's hands pressing on her shoulders as she stood from her bed; she had energy again, and she was beginning to regain her senses.
She looked at him, finally comprehending the sight of him. "Dad…" she spoke as a sob, hugging him tightly. She pulled away to take in his face again, touching it to prove to herself that he was really there in front of her.
"You're home, sweetheart," he told her, pulling her into his chest once more, "you're safe, it's okay…"
She opened her eyes again and spotted the instrument table near her bed, the spare bandages and antiseptics among the other medical supplies he'd brought into her room, the chair he must have been sleeping on while she recovered…
"Cass!" she heard him suddenly call out, and moments later her mother arrived too. Their shared embrace was a mess of sorrow and grateful tears, and then her mother insisted on fetching her some hot tea so that she could begin to feel better.
She already felt better; better than she had for weeks.
The sitting room of the family chateau struck her as feeling impossibly large, compared to the shoebox-sized rooms inside of which Caitlyn had grown accustomed to being held. Even the scent of the tea leaves, as the ceramic cup warmed her hands, smelled so sweet that it overwhelmed her nose. And the feeling of clean clothes, after all this time…
"I truly don't want you fretting over any of this unpleasant business occurring between the river districts right now, Caitlyn," spoke her mother, "in fact, your father and I thought it might be best to plan a relaxing hunting trip in the Green District—or perhaps even further out—until all of this blows over."
"A trip? I…" Her voice felt still meager. "I honestly thought you'd want to punish me, after everything, instead of—"
"Well, we should certainly like to have a talk about everything…" her mother replied, a certain sternness briefly coming upon her. But then she sighed. "We do understand though, Caitlyn— it was the stress of that job, with every horrendous thing those undercity criminals had been doing to sow chaos up here— you'd placed far too high expectations on yourself to fix everything for everyone, Caitlyn. You need a break from all of it, to set your mind at ease."
Caitlyn sipped at her tea, pondering her mother's words. "But," she then began, "this conflict— it only seems to be getting worse— does it not? I've never seen so many of our airships flying over the undercity like that…"
She watched her shake her head. "Everything will be handled, Caitlyn," she said. "Measures need to be put in place to ensure that nothing like this can ever happen again— that's all. Sometimes, that means teaching people the hard way, and with force, but so be it— it must be done now, else it will only snowball into something worse down the line. You'll understand this someday, sweetheart."
Caitlyn paused again. "To 'happen again'…" she repeated. "As in— me, getting captured? That was my fault, though…"
Her mother shot her a scrutinizing look. "No one has the right to kidnap another person, Caitlyn."
She shook her head slightly, feeling her point misunderstood. "I know, I just— doesn't all of this seem… I don't know— extreme? A lot of people will be hurt, won't they? Our enforcers— people who are my colleagues—"
"People who were your colleagues, Caitlyn," her mother corrected, and it felt like a stab in the heart. She had partly expected it, but even still…
Her father chimed in to soften the blow. "We just want to know that you'll be safe, Cait— this isn't a very safe time to be serving…"
That's the point of serving— laying one's life on the line for the good of the public…
She knew it no use to argue now. "The lady…" she said instead, glancing between the both of them. "The one who rescued me— perhaps I should go to her, to thank her?"
She found herself wishing to speak with the woman about far more than that—Camille, her name was, Caitlyn recalled—however, the looks on her parents' faces didn't leave her hopeful that such a meeting might be arranged any time soon.
"She's… a professional, Caitlyn— she has our thanks on your behalf," her mother replied. "What's important right now, is that you rest, sweetheart. Don't worry yourself any further with all that occurred down in that dreadful place."
She laid her head back into the pillow of the armchair, if only to content her, but it occurred to Caitlyn that she might not find herself capable of resting through all of what was to transpire. She knew too much, now; more than she could have hoped to have learned at the outset of her investigation. She knew of 'Silco', the crime-lording undercity leader; of the Chem-Barons, the heads of enterprise cobbled together by Silco into a shaky, scheming coalition; she knew of the Firelights, the fringe group of rebels who sought a peaceful path forward… part of her felt compelled to seek them out again, in fact; if any of them were indeed left after the attack that had seen her changed hands as a hostage.
Above it all, she simply felt compelled to see her original investigation through. She'd come face-to-face with the 'Jinx' character that had perpetrated the bombing at the Square in Piltover; perhaps if she could only be brought to justice, then the Council could call off the rest of their needless assault.
She needed to speak with Jayce; he'd always seen reason when she'd been there to explain it to him...
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Viktor continued to puzzle over the young man's finding after he'd left. He had to guess that the room behind the wall must have been some vestigial element of a home which may once have stood around it; the only piece left intact before Singed's lab was erected in its stead. It was a logical assumption, given the decoration of its design, yet as Viktor gazed down its short hall it occurred to him that his old friend's motives had since become markedly less clear, post-his departure…
The beast described by Miss Jinx's pointy-haired companion, for example; Viktor found the notion that it had been loosed to wreak random acts of havoc on the city rather peculiar, if the young man's characterization was to be believed. What was the nature of Singed's breakthrough with the organism, for him to have simply opened its cage and let it free in the end? Or had it all amounted to a mere dead-end; whatever he'd sought to learn from it? Even still…
And Viktor still failed to reconcile the significance of the concealed room. He recalled Singed making him privy to the story behind each and every subject and experiment housed under the lab's roof in the time they'd shared before Singed had ultimately left, with the disposition of a lonely man having nobody else with which to share his creations. Yet, there had been no mention of anything beyond its four walls; no mention of that which he'd have kept hidden from the eyes of the crime-lord who directed him.
No; whatever it was, it seemed that Viktor wasn't to be trusted with its knowledge either.
"Blitzcrank—" he called from across the room, to the partially reassembled torso leaning against the wall. "Collation progress."
The lights of the golem's eyes promptly flickered to life, preparing to announce its reply. "COMBAT OBSERVATION CONCLUSIVE— COUNTERMEASURES SUCCESSFULLY MODIFIED."
Viktor gave a light nod for his own benefit, before returning to his welding torch, setting about attaching a new set of digits to Blitzcrank's hand. While the damage wrought upon the machine wasn't something he particularly held against Miss Jinx's companion, a certain part of him felt disquieted by how easily the machine had been overpowered; Viktor had previously been under the impression that he'd compensated too far in the direction of robustness, making Blitzcrank heavy beyond practicality. Though, it seemed after this recent encounter that the golem would indeed require more in the way of armor, in order to stand against the kinds of enhanced fighters they'd be like to run into in Zaun.
They had since made a repeat trip through the underground ducts—the same way that had led them to unexpectedly find Miss Jinx in need of rescue—and had pressed through, deep enough to discover the obsolescent nature of the old city mapping that had been guiding them until that point. Viktor had suspected them to be woefully outdated the first time they'd been rerouted only to find that an entirely new depth of looped tunnels had evidently been annexed to the system, making their extended return journey rather illuminating. Viktor still held hope that they would eventually come upon what he sought to find; the master valve between Piltover and Zaun, which saw the volume of pollutants of an entire city funneled down, deep into Zaun's old fissures. Viktor had since learned that the people who held the misfortune of living down there referred to the intoxicating ultimate product of that process as 'the Gray'. Viktor was also acutely aware that the industrial engine of Zaun itself did also contribute to the copious smog; a side of the issue which Viktor hardly imagined he had the capacity to fix given the unsavory reputation of the so-called 'Chem-Barons' which oversaw its drumming economy.
Viktor's body was stronger now, but…
He glanced cagily over at the steel lockbox that sat in the wall; the Hexcore often still called to him—now, perhaps even more than before—infiltrating his mind with its lure. The offer never failed to tempt him; Viktor did not miss the flesh of which he had previously rid himself… of the inadequate, deficient, failing body he'd been cursed with, beset by the looming prospect of an unremarkable expiry, doomed to fade from the living. But due to the transmutation, those parts were no more; he was improved now, whole even.
Could one be made more whole? He wondered. Could a further unity even imbue him with enough strength that he too could shatter Blitzcrank to pieces with a single blow?
Viktor thought of the pointy-haired young man once more—of the ailing grudge that burned behind his eyes—and he wondered whether there was any peace to be found indulging that impulse, given the war that now loomed and of the deaths and suffering that were sure to follow, as surely as the sun set in the west.
It occurred to him that the impulse to violence was perhaps a mere condition to humanity; one that couldnot ever be excised.
If only it could all be replaced, instead; it was difficult imagining that agents of humanity would ever willingly elect to supplant humanity itself, but... what if it only took one?
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The sewn-up gash in her belly still ached like hell. Sevika leant back in her chair at a table near the centre of the bar, her leg resting up on a second chair while Cat leant over her, applying some more anti-septic. Normally she'd have treated it herself, and normally she'd have passed on the painkillers, but what she'd had to witness those few hours ago still had her feeling rattled; she mostly just wanted to forget it.
Of course, it was too great a tale for the others gathered at the table to let her off without telling it, so she'd recounted the whole thing for them; from spotting the Kiramman girl and her rescuer amidst the storm, to their pursuit and their gaining the upper hand, before losing it and having the brawl spill out onto the street, where she'd had to watch everybody around her die to a beastly predator beyond her imagining, prowling from the shadows with those yellow eyes…
"You'd never have seen anything like it on land," she remarked as they all stared. "It's why you'd frankly never catch me dead sailing out into the deep waters— the damned creatures you hear about out there, in those depths…"
She grimaced as Cat poked her with a syringe amongst all of the swelling around the wound, gripping the woman's shoulder briefly.
"It'll kick in in a sec, you big baby," Cat told her, sporting the driest of smiles.
Sevika flashed her an appreciative look, giving a nod and releasing her grip on her shoulder. "Say— I wasn't imagining that before, was I?" she asked her quietly. "Silco storming past us without a word…?"
Cat thought for a moment. "Uh, yeah— I think I saw him hurrying outside, why?"
Sevika sighed. "I don't know— I'm sure it's nothing…" She hadn't mentioned her sighting of Jinx to anybody but him, but he'd seemingly left the bar without the brat alongside him, and it left her wondering.
Maybe the kid's shy to announce her return to everybody— who's to know what's ever happening in that head of hers…? Sevika supposed that after their most recent interaction she certainly didn't know anymore, if she ever did…
"So it gave you that gash, and then what— it just left you alive?" Tay asked from across the table, while he picked at his misaligned teeth with a toothpick.
When Cat leant back to reach for some fresh bandage, Sevika forced herself to sit up a little. "The crew Silco sent over to collect the bodies," she began, "well… I told them to be extra weary when they get down there— I've got a feeling the people that saved my skin aren't any less dangerous than the damned beast itself…"
"What— Margot's crew or something?" Tay pondered. "They're gonna be the next to get stamped out if they keep on—"
"—No, not them," she said, and all their eyes were glued to her then; even Cat's. Sevika gave a sigh. "Look— Silco wouldn't really want me to drum these rumors up, but you've no doubt all heard them anyway… I don't think that Noxian ship we spotted arriving in Piltover that one time ever left— I think they only docked it somewhere out of sight. No— they've been here this whole time, a whole battalion of them, for weeks."
"So Topside needed to call in an assist, huh?" another at their table wondered.
Sevika regarded the idea dubiously. "I don't know... I just don't know— I think it must have been them, though. They captured the beast, I think— didn't seem like they were trying to kill it…"
"How 'bout, uh, Krester? Or Dustin?" Tay wondered. "They weren't with you?"
"I don't know," Sevika admitted. "Nobody I've asked has seen them either."
"It's all been too much, if you ask me…" Cat chimed in. "We should've made our move days ago, before everything turned into this useless in-fighting all over again— first Smeech and Renni, now Margot—"
"Well, that's the thing," Sevika replied, "I get the strong suspicion that whenever we manage to find Renni… well, I don't know— I just get the feeling that she's gonna have some real interesting things to share if we can pin her down…"
Her theory of that particular Chem-Baron's potential duplicitous dealings had been brewing for some time, and her recent revelation about the fate that had befallen Renni's crew—as well as Smeech's—at her compound now had Sevika feeling confident enough to voice it; the notion that Renni's allegiances were perhaps not as the woman presented them…
But she noticed her entire table stiffen and quieten down then, at the squeak of the bar entrance swinging open and closed again. At that, she knew it could only be one person; she heard him catch his breath and stride toward her, forcing her to abruptly tie off her thoughts.
As she turned to face him, she began to get the sense that something was deeply amiss. She saw her boss' eyes burning with fury, but when his voice emerged, it was quiet. "When you're done making a mess," Silco told her coldly, "I need to speak with you."
And that was all he had to offer her, before he proceeded to storm upstairs. Her lips tightened against her teeth, as she bristled over the command. He could be a cruel man, sometimes…
The brat's gone and upset him somehow, hasn't she…?
She gave a glance toward the rest of the table, who all seemed as curious about the interaction as they had been of the tale she'd been telling them. Cat regarded her with some concern as Sevika attempted to haul herself to her feet.
"I'm fine—" Sevika grumbled, brushing away the woman's own prosthetic steel hand, metal on metal. "Thanks…" she added, and Cat reluctantly returned a nod.
Each step up the staircase was more difficult than the last, but she managed to drag herself back up to his office to face him, her growing curiosity perhaps having been enough to drive her.
He was silent to begin with, but his fiery simmer filled the room well enough. She decided to be the first to speak. "Well? What happened…?"
He didn't bother to look at her as he promptly launched into his reply. "It's time, Sevika— we make our push before nightfall tomorrow. Everyone. Ignore Margot's retaliation for now— she can take claim over whatever scraps she cares to. I want you to command the assault— we're to clear the Alcove District and the Southern District of Topside's enforcers within the day, plunging them into the River Pilt if we must. I've run the numbers— we have enough of Singed's new recipe synthesized for these coming days. Chemtank soldiers, too— loose them as you will. Take prisoners of whomever remains. Once it's done, I'll arrange an envoy to meet theirs upon the bridge. I won't allow them to act as though the Noxians aren't informing their terms… unconditional withdrawal is all I'll be willing to accept."
When he was done, she stepped closer to his desk, observing the intel that he'd already amassed regarding the placement of enforcer blockades and outposts; all had been marked on the map sprawled over its surface. Her mind for strategy hadn't yet faced a test such as this, but still she was glad; glad that it was time to move, finally. But still, his disposition puzzled her.
"Sir…?" she gently pressed, hoping he'd finally meet her eyes.
He let out a forceful exhale. "…What was the nature of your conversation with her, Sevika?"
She subtly nodded, as her suspicions were confirmed; Jinx had up and left them high and dry. Again. "She only wanted to see you. That was it," she replied. "What exactly happened, sir…?"
His dejection and frustration were so apparent that she almost pitied him; she couldn't remember ever once seeing him in such a mood, or rather, if she had, he'd been able to mask it in a way he couldn't now. His fingers seemed to shudder as he struggled to find a suitable place to rest them against his own forehead. "We…" he began, before seemingly changing course. "You have far more pressing matters to attend to, Sevika— see to them. Communications have already been sent. Use the Dawn Hotel as your base— messages and intel are already being forwarded through there, so you should have all you need…"
She finally took the time to process all he'd instructed of her, and returned him a nod that felt shakier than she'd hoped. "Got it, boss. But—" she faltered. "Well, what about Jinx's weapon, sir? Shouldn't we—"
He forcefully met her eyes for the first time, but she didn't regret raising the question; considering the damage it had wrought against the concrete fortress that was Stillwater Hold, they'd certainly be advantaged by having the thing—ridiculous as it looked—in their arsenal, even if the brat wasn't going to be the one to pull the trigger.
She managed to sustain his glare without flinching. "Fine…" he eventually muttered, hollowly. "You know where it is. Don't blow us all to pieces attempting to use it…"
Satisfied, she gave him a final nod, and turned to take her leave. She knew better than to attempt to console him through whatever it was he was going through; he'd never accepted personal advice from her in the past.
Here's hoping the girl doesn't come back and mess him up all over again, to the point where he changes his mind…