Ashes of Progress // Silco x OC

Chapter 9

The stabilizer sat on the table before her, its polished surface catching the dim light of her apartment, casting sharp shadows across the cluttered workbench. It was a prototype—rough, unrefined—but it was hers. Every mechanism, every wire, every bolt had been meticulously placed with one purpose: protection.

Sera ran her fingers along the edges, her touch light but deliberate. The core hummed faintly beneath her hand, a soft vibration that seemed alive, almost as though the invention had a heartbeat. Her inventions were extensions of her will, alive in a way she could understand better than people.

The failsafe was hidden deep within the machinery—nearly impossible to detect unless you knew exactly what to look for. She had designed it that way on purpose, knowing the stakes, knowing the risks. In the undercity, there was no room for mistakes.

But it wasn't enough to simply create it.

She needed to test it.

Sera slid the stabilizer into her satchel, her fingers brushing against the jagged edges of the metal that had yet to be filed down. She winced as it nicked her skin, a thin line of red beading up along her thumb. She paused, staring at the blood, her thoughts clouding for a moment.

She was building a weapon, but this time it wasn't just about Piltover or Zaun. This time, it was personal. She had been discarded, left to fend for herself while those in their ivory towers continued on as if she'd never existed.

Her thoughts raced as she double-checked her notes, her pen scratching across the paper as she jotted down false data about the design. If anyone tried to tamper with the stabilizer, they would be led astray—directly into the failsafe's trigger. She smiled, a cold satisfaction settling in her chest. If they thought they could exploit her work, they'd pay the price.

She set her pen down, exhaling slowly, the sound echoing in her small, cluttered apartment. This was calculated. Cold. She wasn't just building a trap—she was setting bait.

The thought sent a shiver down her spine, and for a moment, her resolve wavered. Could she really do this? Could she really cross that line? But there was no turning back now. Piltover had taken everything from her—her reputation, her future, her life as she knew it. The undercity, meanwhile, had offered her something Piltover never had: a chance to decide her own fate.

She couldn't help but feel a deep sense of frustration at the thought. A place like this—a place built by those who had been cast out, who had been left with nothing but their will to survive—had the potential to be something far greater. It was a tragedy that a self-made nation like the undercity had to remain shackled to Piltover, its people forced to serve a system that had done nothing but exploit them.

This city deserved more. It deserved freedom, not the scraps that Piltover chose to toss it. And maybe—just maybe—she could help make that a reality.

The factory was eerily quiet when she arrived, the usual hum of activity replaced by a heavy stillness that seemed to settle into her bones. The shadows stretched long across the factory floor, the flickering lights barely piercing the darkness. Sera moved quickly, her footsteps muffled by the grime-coated floor as she approached one of the machines.

She worked fast, her fingers deftly replacing one of the older stabilizers with her new design. Each twist of the wrench, each connection of wires felt purposeful, deliberate. She left the false data in plain sight, the paper sticking out just enough to catch the attention of anyone snooping.

As she tightened the final bolt, her thoughts wandered. This wasn't what she had imagined for herself—not here, not like this. She had once believed in Piltover's vision, believed in progress, in innovation, in creating something that could make the world a better place. But Piltover had left her no choice. They had chewed her up and spit her out, just like they did to so many others in the undercity.