Ashes of Progress // Silco x OC

Chapter 3

The walk to Silco's office always felt longer when Sevika had news worth sharing.

The stairs creaked faintly as Sevika ascended to Silco's office, the distant hum of the factory floor echoing around her. Each step felt heavier than the last, weighed down by the words she'd overheard and the details she now carried.

She didn't trust the topsider.

Sevika had seen enough of Piltover's kind to recognize the signs—caution disguised as carelessness, eyes that darted too quickly, like they were searching for a way out. The woman might have been dressed in Zaun's grime and smog, but she couldn't hide the polish underneath.

By the time Sevika reached the top, she had sharpened her observations into something concise, something worth delivering.

She knocked once, sharp and loud.

"Come," Silco's voice called, calm but precise.

The office smelled faintly of smoke, the hazy light from the single lamp casting long shadows across the room. Silco was seated at his desk, one hand resting against the edge while the other swirled the amber liquid in his glass. His mismatched eyes flicked up briefly to meet Sevika's before he gestured for her to speak.

"Well?" he asked, his tone low.

"There's something you need to know," Sevika said, crossing the room. She stopped just short of his desk, her metal arm resting against her side. "A woman's been seen around the market district. Quiet. Careful. Looks like she doesn't belong."

Silco raised an eyebrow, his expression unchanged. "What makes you think she's worth my attention?"

"She doesn't fit," Sevika said. "Too clean. Too polished. And she's drawing attention, even though she's trying not to."

Silco tilted his head slightly, his gaze sharpening. "Go on."

"She's got white-silver hair," Sevika continued. "And purple eyes. Unusual features for someone trying to blend in down here. People have noticed."

Silco leaned back slightly, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "Purple eyes," he repeated. "And yet, she thinks she can disappear into Zaun's streets. How naive."

"She's not starving or desperate, either," Sevika added. "She's been buying small things, doing small jobs. Just enough to keep her afloat, but not enough to draw too much notice." She hesitated, then added, "One of the workers said she looks like someone from Topside. A scientist. The one who died in that explosion—"

"Sera Moreau," Silco said, cutting her off.

His tone was soft but edged, the name lingering in the air like smoke. He set his glass down slowly, his fingers steepling under his chin as his gaze turned inward.

Sevika's eyes narrowed slightly. "You've heard of her."

"She invented the stabilizers," he said, more to himself than to her. "The very ones we use to power production. Without them, shimmer refinement would be... significantly less efficient."

Sevika frowned slightly. "If it's her, she's hiding. And if she's hiding, she's dangerous."

Silco's mismatched eyes shifted back to hers, his smirk returning, colder this time. "Dangerous? Perhaps. Or perhaps she's running from something. The topside has a way of chewing up its brightest minds and spitting them out when they're no longer useful."

Silco rose from his chair, his movements deliberate as he crossed to the window. The glow of the factory floor illuminated his profile, casting shadows across the scars that marred his face.

"If she is Sera Moreau," he said, his voice quiet but cutting, "then she knows things. Things Piltover wouldn't want anyone else to know."

"Like what?" Sevika asked.

Silco turned slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching into a faint smile. "What she was working on. Why did they discard her? And why did she come here when she's supposed to be dead?" He paused, his gaze narrowing. "People don't run to the undercity without a reason, Sevika. And I intend to find out what hers is."

"You think she could be a spy?" Sevika asked, her arms crossing.

"It's possible," Silco admitted, his tone clipped. "Piltover has a way of underestimating Zaun, sending its little pawns into our streets to gather scraps of information, thinking we won't notice." His smirk widened slightly. "But they don't send pawns like her. If she is Sera Moreau, then she's more valuable than that."

"And if she's not?" Sevika pressed.

"Then we'll find out what she wants," Silco said, his tone dismissive. "Either way, she's an opportunity."

Sevika's metal fingers drummed lightly against her arm. "You want me to keep following her?"

"Yes," Silco replied. "Quietly. I want to know her movements, her habits, who she speaks to, what she buys. If she's hiding, she'll slip up. And when she does, I want to be ready."

Sevika hesitated. "And if she's here to cause trouble?"

Silco's smile faded, replaced by a harder, colder look. "Then we deal with her."

There was no need to elaborate. The undercity didn't tolerate interlopers who overstepped their boundaries.

As Sevika turned to leave, Silco spoke again, his voice softer but no less commanding.

"And Sevika," he said, his gaze fixed once more on the factory floor, "if she so much as breathes in the wrong direction, I want to know. If she's here for Piltover, we'll turn their plans to ash before they have a chance to unfold."

Sevika nodded, her expression set. "Understood."

She left without another word, the echo of her boots fading into the hallway.