Ashes of Progress // Silco x OC

Chapter 5

Sevika's knuckles itched for a fight as she climbed the stairs to Silco's office. Each step felt like a steady reminder of her growing frustration. The factory workers had been all too eager to spill the story of "Mavara's" unauthorized visit. No one knew who she really was or why she was there, but Sevika wasn't stupid. She knew a rat when she smelled one, and this one had been sneaking around long enough.

What pissed her off most was that Silco hadn't done anything about it. He knew. He always knew. And yet, he did nothing.

She knocked once and pushed the door open without waiting for a response, her impatience refusing to be kept in check.

Silco was at his desk, as usual, the dim light casting long shadows across his scarred face. His mismatched eyes flicked up to meet hers, calm and unreadable, as though he had expected her interruption.

"What is it?" he asked, his voice low and measured, the faintest hint of boredom coloring his tone.

Sevika crossed the room in three long strides, her metal arm whirring faintly, her agitation palpable. "It's her. 'Mavara.' The topsider." Her voice was practically a growl. "She was at the factory last night, tampering with the stabilizers."

Silco's expression remained unchanged, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—interest, amusement, perhaps even curiosity. "Tampering?" he repeated, his tone betraying nothing.

"Messing with the machines," Sevika snarled, her anger barely contained. "She was in there, acting like she owned the place. I don't know what she thought she was doing, but she doesn't belong there."

Silco leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he regarded her with that detached, calculating gaze. "I know," he said simply.

Sevika blinked, thrown off for a heartbeat. "You know?" she repeated, her voice filled with disbelief.

"I was there," Silco replied, his tone calm, as if he were talking about the weather. "I saw everything."

For a moment, Sevika just stared at him, her temper simmering dangerously close to a boil. "And you didn't stop her?" she demanded, incredulous. Her voice rose, her frustration boiling over. "She's topside scum, Silco. We don't know what her game is—"

Silco raised a hand, cutting her off with a simple gesture. "She wasn't sabotaging anything, Sevika," he said, his voice patient, almost amused. "She was fixing them."

Sevika's frown deepened, her eyes narrowing. "Fixing them?" she echoed. "You're just going to let her do whatever she wants? She's not one of us, Silco. She doesn't belong here."

Silco tilted his head, his gaze sharpening, a glint of irritation flashing in his eyes. "And yet, she improved the stabilizers," he replied coolly. "Increased their efficiency. Shimmer production is already showing measurable gains." His voice carried that edge of finality—the tone that brooked no argument.

"That doesn't mean she can be trusted," Sevika snapped, taking a step closer to his desk, her metal arm clenching with an audible whir. "For all we know, she's playing us. She could be working for Piltover, setting us up for something worse."

Silco's smirk was faint, barely a shadow across his lips, but it carried an edge that made Sevika's skin crawl. "You don't trust her?" He let the question hang in the air for a heartbeat, then added, "Good. Neither do I."

He rose from his chair, his movements deliberate, his gaze never leaving hers as he walked toward the window. The light from outside framed him in sharp silhouette, adding weight to his words. "But trust isn't necessary—not yet. Usefulness, on the other hand... usefulness has its place."