Chapter XXI: The Solution

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A cloud of thick green smoke rolled out of the narrow alleyway that stood behind Mila, her steps pained but fast. She clenched her teeth, eyes watering as she pushed on, trying to weave her way through the snaking alleyways of Zaun. But no matter the direction she took, every familiar path toward the Firelights was already shrouded in the dense, unforgiving smoke.

It was as if the Grey itself was determined to keep her away. But deep down, she knew that wasn't the truth. Her mind kept snapping back to the conversation with Caitlyn, to the rage and anger behind her eyes. For a moment, she wondered if she had looked the same, if her eyes once burned with the same intense need for revenge.

Realizing she was out of options, Mila stumbled out of the haze, finding herself in a deserted square. Her shoulders sagged, defeat settling in her bones. A lonely bench, chipped and forgotten, caught her eye. She collapsed onto it, and pulled out a crumpled pack of cigarettes from her pocket - the small victory from a trade she'd made earlier, for only a couple of gears. With shaky hands, she lit one, drawing in the first puff like a lifeline. The bitter taste curled through her senses, mixing with the sting of the smoke still clinging to her lungs.

Silence swallowed the square, broken only by the faint crackle of her cigarette. Mila exhaled slowly, watching the thin tendrils of smoke vanish into the smoggy air. She leaned back, trying to think of another route to find Ekko, but her mind spun aimlessly, tangled in exhaustion and frustration.

She didn't even know if he was alive. They never found him, but she didn't know if he would stay on the bridge long enough to be found, if he survived the explosion. Another person she cared about was gone, dead, changed, or simply too wounded to make it back to Zaun.

Her eyes caught a single street that was not obstructed by the Grey, and she tried to once more recall the path to the tree, to where she would be able to go and warn them. But even if she did, where would they go? That was their home, the place they had built so much, where Ekko had poured his heart, soul and sweat.

Now, she was left without even a spark to hold onto.

It was like she could see them again, with gas masks and armors protecting them from the toxic fumes, marching around Zaun, like they owned it, like they would stop at nothing to get what they want. For a moment, she had managed to catch a glimpse of red hair, to see if her best-friend truly had joined them. The gauntlets on her hands, new and improved, told her everything she needed to know.

Mila watched the cigarette flicker before extinguishing it beneath her boot. She needed to move, needed to do something to numb the ache spreading through her chest, the physical and mental one. The anger, the bitterness, the confusion, it all felt like it would consume her if she didn't keep going. She stood, limbs heavy, and looked toward the unobstructed street. The only path that didn't promise answers but wasn't yet swallowed by the Grey.

But before she could take a step, the weight of footsteps interrupted her thoughts. A patrol, by the sound of it. Mila ducked back behind a crumbling stone pillar, her breath caught in her throat. She peeked around the edge, spotting the unmistakable shapes of enforcers, their faces hidden by gas masks. They moved in precise formation, weapons ready, scanning the shadows for anything that moved.

She closed her eyes, forcing herself to breathe, slow and shallow. Fighting here would be suicide, especially after the battering her body had taken from the Grey. But as she listened to their movements, something caught her ear - a voice. Muffled but unmistakably familiar.

It was Vi's voice.

Her heart pounded, a mix of hope, rage, and desperation swelling in her chest. She wanted to run to her, to grab her and shake her, to demand answers, to beg for an explanation. But she couldn't. Not here, not now. And not when Vi had chosen to stand among them.

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