𝐄𝐤𝐤𝐨 | 𝐃𝕚𝕣𝕥𝕪 𝐋𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝐀𝕟𝕚𝕞𝕒𝕝𝕤

6. Ideas

Proving myself to Silco had been my number one priority ever since I joined him.
Proving myself to Vander was only ever to show him that I was no Topsider, and that I owned my blood with pride, despite it being half good.

I shouldn't have hated Piltover so much, nor should have sided with Zaunites when a group of them were responsible for my mother's death, but I had made my choices already.
If my parents died, it was only ever the Council's fault. And Piltover built its luxury over Zaun's bones.
I don't know if I was seeking revenge, but I needed to prove myself to everyone.

The streets of the Lanes were filled with life and filth. I moved quickly, past shimmerheads twitching in the alleys, their glowing veins and eyes a mockery of vitality.
My destination was clear— The Underpass.
The one place where everyone kept their noses out of your business as long as your coin was good or your threats convincing enough.

The market was alive that time. Sparks showered from a stall where someone was welding modifications into a stolen prosthetic.
Nearby, a vendor called out prices for vials of poison that promised a painless end— or an agonising one, if you were into that.
It all blurred into noise.
I pushed through the crowd until I found Ridge, leaning against a rusted beam near the edge of a bazaar.
His patchwork coat hanged off him like a second skin, and his cybernetic eye flickered faintly, as thought it couldn't trust what it was seeing.
"Well, if it isn't the great Shark," he said, his grin a lazy slash across his face.
"Still running errands for Silco? Or is this a social visit?"

"Shut up, Ridge," I said, surely not in the mood for small talk. I folded my arms.
"I've got a job for you."
That made him straighten up, his grin sharpening.
"Oh? And what would that be?"
I glanced around to make sure no one was close enough to listen. Then I stepped in, lowering my voice.
"There's someone in my way, I need them gone."
His cybernetic eye whirred softly as he studied me.
"Gone as in... missing, or gone as in dead?"
"Dead," I replied. No hesitation.
I could feel his excitement growing, but I kept talking.
"It's a Firelight. He wears an owl mask. They've all been sniffing around Silco's supply runs— around my work— and I'm not about to let them screw everything up."

Ridge let out a low whistle.
"An owl mask, huh? Firelights aren't exactly amateurs, Shark. This one must've really gotten under your skin."
"They are more than under my skin. They're in my way," I growled.
"If I don't deal with this, it's only a matter of time before Silco decides I'm the problem. So are you in or not?"
He tilted his head, his organic eye narrowing as if he was weighing the cost of this favor.
"You've got guts, I'll give you that. But you know how these things go. This isn't a freebie."

"You owe me, Ridge," I snapped, stepping closer.
"Don't make me spell out why."
For a moment, the smirk faltered. Then he shrugged, becoming somewhat more serious.
"Fine. I'll do it. But if this goes sideways, don't expect me to save your ass."
"It won't go sideways," I said.
The words tasted like steel, heavy.
"Just handle it."
He nodded, briefly looking me up and down like he was contemplating his choice.
"And don't tell Smeech. I don't want anyone else involved, or for him to spill shit he's not supposed to know," my tone was cold.
"My boss won't know. On me."

The moment he agreed, I walked away. The noise of the Underpass rushed back in, but my mind was already turning.
This Firelight— he didn't know it yet, but he was already dead. I wouldn't let anything, or anyone, stand between me and what I was building.

~

The radio blared out an upbeat, chaotic tune, the kind Jinx seemed to thrive on.
Her lab was a whirl of motion and sound, the clanging of metal and the soft hum of some incomplete creation of hers blending with her loud, scattered laughter.
"Hand me the thingy!" she hollered, not looking up from her workstation.

I glanced at the mess of tools scattered across the makeshift table.
"The what?"
"Ugh, Sharky! The spanner! The shiny one!" she flailed her hands toward a pile of tools, her voice rising in mock exasperation.
I shifted through the heap, grabbing what I hoped was the right one.
"This shiny enough for you?"
She snatched it out of my hand with a grin that was equal parts manic and childlike.
"Perfect! You're getting the hang of this minnow."

"Don't call me that," I muttered, sitting down on one of the edges of that big propeller we were on.
The nickname was grating, but coming from her, it was almost endearing. Almost.
She didn't respond— too busy fiddling with the wires of a half-built device that I hoped was not a bomb.
The smell of burnt metal filled the air. I wasn't sure what it was supposed to do, but with Jinx, the less I knew, the safer I probably was.
"Hold this," she said suddenly, placing a small, sparkling component into my hands.
I stared at it.
"Is this supposed to be smoking?"

"Yep!" Her eyes gleamed with excitement as she twisted something on the device.
"You're not gonna blow up. Probably. Unless you drop it."
"Comforting," I muttered, holding the thing steady as she worked.
She darted around the lab,talking a mile a minute about things I never even heard about.
"So, like, pow— big boom— and then they won't even know what hit 'em! I mean, they will, cause, duh, explosion, but it's gonna be like wow!"
She punctuated her words with exaggerated hand gestures, nearly knocking over a jar of screws that I quickly pulled away.

"You've... really thought this through," I said dryly, though I couldn't help but smirk.
Her energy was infectious.
"Course I have! Jinx always thinks things through. Well... sometimes. Okay, not always, but this? This is genius. You'll see!"
I shook my head, handing her the part she needed next. Watching her work was like watching chaos finding its rhythm.
There was no method to her madness— no logic I could follow— but somehow, it all came together.

"Hey, Sharky." She began.
"Yeah?"
"You ever think about... y'know..." she trailed off, her tone uncharacteristically soft. For a moment, she stared at the contraption in front of her, the playful grin slipping from her face.
"Think about what?" I prompted, frowning.
"Stuff." She waved a hand vaguely before continuing.
"Like... Vander?"

It took a moment for me to realise I was not imagining it, and she actually was being vulnerable.
"I heard it. Your talk with Silco."
A moment of quiet settled between us, and I sighed.
"Sometimes I think about the past, about... how things could have been if certain circumstances were to be different." My voice gentle.
"But that's all it is, Jinx. It's the past, we cannot change it." I tried to somewhat sound convinced of what I was saying, although I was not.
"And... the others? Mylo, Claggor..." she glanced back at that side of her lab that had plushies resembling those we lost.
I could feel the sadness settling in deeply as I looked that way too.

"They will always be a memory, one we cherish despite everything."
I hesitated to say more, uncertain about how to proceed but luckily she shrugged.
The moment of vulnerability vanishing as quickly as it came.
"Anyway! Enough of that sappy junk. Crank up the music, Sharky— we're making art here!"

The music surged louder, the beat echoing through the cluttered space as Jinx threw herself back into her work. I watched her, a mix of awe and unease twisting in my chest.
There was something fragile beneath all that fire, something I wasn't sure even she could see.
There was more of Powder inside of her than back in the times, where 'Jinx' was just a way Mylo would mock her lack of skill with.
Everything could have gone so differently, so much better, if only Pilties weren't so selfish and narcissistic.
I tended to her needs as she kept building her crazy toys, more enthusiastically than before with how much I actually appreciated her company.

We lost all those that actually meant something, and while she payed with her sanity, I payed with my emotions.
We were so much happier back then, making a run on Zaun's streets between the Last Drop and Benzo's shop.
It used to be so much fun listening to Vi's stories and imitate her fighting style with Ekko.
Or drawing a fake moustache on Mylo's face while asleep, and following Claggor's escape plans.

Once there was Powder, once there was family, a home in the Undercity that made a thousand times more than a day in between riches would have.
But that's all about it.
They were just memories.