Ghosts of Zaun

Chapter II - Possibilities and Expectations

Vanders prepared his bar for the night with the same care he put his children to sleep. He remembered cleaning Powder's face with a wet cloth, which made him smile at the recently polished glass.
They were all pure chaos, those kids, and even though he had learned through painful means that chaos brings death and destruction, their chaos brought his heart back to life.

Soon the first customers arrived, some in small groups, some alone, most suspicious. As always, he kept an eye out for trouble makers. Every night there was a dispute to settle, a fight to break or a poor sod to comfort and it was just as important as serving beer. Tonight, it was a puny fellow that needed his help. He dealt with the situation as fast as it arrived and his gut questioned why it was so easy to do so. The bar was calmer than usual, he noticed. Then he heard it.

"Yeah, there was a hell of an explosion." A burly man told his friend. "They sayin' some kids did it. Kids from down here." The friend responded with a hiccup "I betcha whatever ya' want that Vanders' brats are behind this." The first man shushes him and looks around "Did those fumes finally melt your brain? Look where you are!"

Vander felt his heart become a heavy stone. "What explosion?"

(...)

Ekko punched the wooden column for the tenth time, even if his knuckles were swollen and bloody. Last night, Vi had shown him a few moves and he was sure he could beat Powder this time if he just got stronger. He would show her!

"I commend your dedication." A foreign voice stops him mid-blow. The boy turns around to find a pale, thin man.
One of those. He wore fancy clothes and used fancy words, so sure people would stand in awe of him. Still, there was a hint of something else in his tone.

"Thanks..." the boy muttered, not sure if he should go back to his practice or not.

"Can you help me with something? I'll make it worth your while." He showed Ekko a bag full of money. The boy made sure to contain his excitement, because he knew there were no gifts in Zaun. Nothing was for free. "It depends on what you need me to do." He said after a long pause.

"I'm down here searching for a kid. A girl with blue hair." This man confused him. His words should sound cruel, determined, threatening. Instead, there was a conspiratorial air to him that made Ekko feel like part of a big secret plan. The outsider seemed to notice his reticence, so he spoke:

"I'm Viktor. It may not look like it, but I was born down here." He smiled, the first person from Piltover to do so without being condescending. His gait was frail, but not uncertain. His posture was alert, but not afraid. Just like everyone used to those streets would behave.

"It doesn't matter who you are or where you're from, I won't help you." The boy thought of Powder, his heart set on protecting her. We don't betray our own. He thought as he turned away and ran.

The man could never reach him, still Ekko kept looking behind his back to be sure. Something in that whole exchange was oddly uncomfortable.

"I want to help her!" Viktor yelled, which caused him to cough and cough until his whole body trembled from the effort.

Could he? Ekko stopped and stared at the sick stranger. Enforcers would sure arrive soon and they would search everywhere for Powder, maybe the others too. He hesitated but asked: "how?"

(...)

Powder was scared, but also too curious to pay attention to her own fears. The shiny things she got seemed to irradiate raw power. Maybe these were the answer to her failed creations. Maybe they would finally work and she wouldn't be a useless brat anymore. Maybe then she wouldn't be a Jinx and they would stop calling her that. She'd make Vi proud.

Her sister knocked on the door of her improvised new bedroom, inside a hideout Vanlder arranged for them. She got in and sat on Powder's bed.
"How are you doing Pow Pow?"

A thousand answers crossed her childish mind: I'm scared. I'm curious. I'm hopeful. I'm alive.

Creating was like diving inside a personal safety bubble where mistakes meant progress and no criticism, no mean voice got in her head. She was fine, for now.

Vi put a hand on her shoulder: "I won't let anything happen to you, ok? I promise."

They hugged, then looked at each other. Her big sister grew so much! Did Powder grow up too? Sometimes it didn't feel like she aged since the day their parents died. She still felt like the same lost child with no purpose and no identity other than being a pain in the ass.

Who was she?

The question hit her soul like a hammer, anxiety crawling up her throat until she wasn't able to speak anymore.

Who was she?

"Powder?" Vi called. Maybe that's who she was, Pow Pow, the younger sister, the orphan. Yes, she was fine. While she could be Vi's sister, she would be okay.

(...)

Vanders soon received a visit from enforcers asking him about the children. Time and time again he deflected questions, but time and time again they insisted.

It was not the first time they had problems with Piltover like that, but this was nothing like anyone had ever seen. The commotion had been too gigantic to ignore, so even the reasonable people couldn't help much.

He considered every possibility, from handing himself in to killing everyone who tried laying a finger on his family. Maybe he could even sell the bar and disappear with the kids. Start over somewhere else.

The idea to leave Zaun was tempting, he would have gone if not for his community. He knew people needed him, they depended on his strength as a leader. Still, he was a father now... oh, things changed so much after that!

Each of those rascals were a piece of him, although one day they would leave. He wanted them to leave because of opportunities and adventures, not because they were killed or abandoned.

What could he do to protect them?