𝐄𝐤𝐤𝐨 | 𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐀𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐬

25. Diplomacy

I faltered, forcing the breath through my lungs as I stared at him.
"So that's it?" I asked, low. "You've already decided? You've already convinced Ekko?"
My chest was burning.
"You're going to use the Firelights for your own gain, to patch up your bleeding city and call it unity?"

Jayce's jaw tightened.
"We're not using anyone. We're offering something real. This divide between Zaun and Piltover, it can't go on. The violence. The shimmer. Silco's—"
"Don't say his name like you understand what he is," I stated.
He blinked, surprised.
"I do," I continued, stepping forward again. "I know exactly what he is. And you think tearing him down is going to magically fix the world?"
Jayce held my stare, voice steady.
"It's a start."

I laughed. A dry, bitter sound.
"A starts to what? Chaos?"
I shook my head, fury curling up from my ribs.
"You take down Silco, and you're not fixing anything. You're lighting a fuse under us all. He's not a crime lord— he's power. He's stability, even if it's rotting to the core. You remove him without a real plan and Zaun burns."
"She's right." The limping guy's voice finally came, even, calm.
I turned my eyes to him, gaze narrowed at the suspicious alliance he offered.
He stepped forward slowly, his crutch clacking on the perfectly polished tiles.
"Silco has built more than just control, Jayce. He's built dependency. Infrastructure, twisted as it may be. If we pull that out overnight, people will suffer." His brows furrowed, going into deep thinking. "But if we let him continue," he turned to me, "he'll drag thousands down with him. That's not stability. More like slow death."

I opened my mouth, then closed it again. The way he said it, like he knew, like he'd seen it.
"But you think playing heroes from above is the solution?" I muttered. "You're trying to make Piltover look good again. You're trying to clean your mess through us. I've seen what happens to people who think they can build utopias on graves, and it's damn selfish."
Jayce moved closer, almost pleading now.
"That's not what this is. Not about clearing up reputations—"
"Oh, really?" I interrupted, sarcastically. "What is it then, Mr Progress? What do you stand to gain when the smoke clears and Silco's gone? Another statue? A speech?"
My voice cracked around the edge of my words, with an unnatural need to let it all out.
Neither Jayce or his mate spoke.
I saw the latter blinking like he might try to answer, but didn't get the chance.

The doors hissed open once more, and the click of heels invaded the room along with a strong scent of rose oil and expensive powder, maybe even distant fire.
Mel Medarda had walked in, gaze swooping over us like she'd known she arrived at the wrong moment and didn't care about it.
I could feel the temperature shifting, Talis adjusting his shirt as though for an important encounter.
Mel moved like silk drawn over steel, every set of eyes shifted to her, but hers found me instantly— a hawk sighting its prey.
Not even a flicker of surprise on her expression, so she already knew.

"Imagine my surprise," she began, lips curving, voice smooth as lacquered wine, "when one of the enforcers told me someone was here to speak on behalf of the Firelights. I surely didn't expect to find... you."
Her eyes stayed on me. "Yet, here you are."
My teeth clenched, I didn't dare move though.
She swayed around me, perfectly poised, draped in white satin with golden earrings that caught the light like tiny shields.
"Never thought I'd see the day," she continued.
"Shark. The shimmer hound herself, Silco's little blade."
"I'm not—"
"What happened, Shark? Trying consultation, now? Have you lost your taste for knives and blood?"

Jayce shifted beside me, tense. I hadn't even realised we were standing so close.
"Mel—"
But she ignored him, chin tilting as she kept her stare locked on me.
"Or did your boss send you as some twisted joke?" She asked. "Let his favourite weapon dress up as a messenger of peace? What'd he make Jinx act up as?"