Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Making a Difference

It was late summer. And for a city built beneath another, Zaun's heat had a big impact on people's lives. Vander would say with confidence that summer was an example of why something bad, sometimes meant something good.

Enforcers clothes were made to be used Topside, it was made from one of the heaviest wools of Runeterra, imported directly from Ionia and painted with a blue ink manufactured in Zaun, that way, few had the will to patrol any part of the city in the hottest days. And that was why the Lanes district, the biggest of Zaun was filled to the brim.

Inside the Last Drop, the main bar of the city, a girl ran while laughing. She ducked behind the counter and tried to hide with a hand over her mouth, stifling the laughter that tried to escape.

Vander looked down at his legs with a smile on his face, the blue-haired girl who was breathing hard like she just ran a marathon whispered to him, "Say that I went to Vi's room, please!"

He touched her head with his left hand, looked at her, and was about to reply when the sound of a chair falling echoed in the room. Vander looked at the scene where a boy, who apologized to a customer with a red face lifted the chair.

The boy with a toy gun filled with water in his hands, looked around, trying to find something. And that was when his eyes met Vander's on the opposite side of the room. With a serious face on his face, the boy walked over, put his gun on the table and asked, "Where's Powder?".

Vander, with someone punching his shin, replied, "You lost her again, Atlas?"

With an exasperated look on his face, the boy replied as he took the gun from the counter and pointed at him, "Look at my shirt, Dad! She just exploded one of her monkey toys in my room and it's gonna take a week to clean it up."

Now that he looked properly, Vander noticed the boy's clothes with traces of pink and blue. He raised his hands in defense with a smile on his face, "Maybe she's cleaning the room?"

Before he could even laugh, water hit Vander in the face and soaked all his clothes. The toy gun seemed so simple, but when the trigger was pulled by Atlas, it made a gear-clattering noise and poured water with some pressure all over the counter, wetting the three drinks he was making, and even a little on the girl who was hiding under himself.

Now with wet hair, Powder, who was still sitting down, let out a shriek that was heard by the boy with gun still in his hand. In one swift movement, the boy jumped the counter and pointed the gun at her.

Vander tired of the banter between the two, grabbed the gun with one hand and said, "You've already ruined my drinks and her hair, I think you're even, right?".

With both arms now restrained by Vander, Atlas glared at Powder and said, "Make her clean my room, then we are even!"

With a sigh, Vander replied, "Are you going to clean up all this mess you've made?"

—--

"Unfamiliar ceiling." I muttered, staring at a room that went from pink to blue and in between, with some light that got through a curtained window, that had weird monkeys on it. Looking to my right, I saw a bed, where a girl with pink hair slept.

I blinked.

"What?" I asked, more on edge than before.

That wasn't my voice.

I turned sideways, almost falling in the process. My bed was a bunk bed, and there was definitely someone underneath me who muttered something. With only one window in the room and no light on, it was pretty dark.

At the end of the bed, there was a little ladder that I used to get down, trying my best to keep quiet.

Going one hand at a time to go down, I was close to the floor when I went still.

That wasn't my hand. My heart went faster, I couldn't hear anything, and my legs were really weird.

The last thing I heard was something smashing the floor.

Chapter Text

Sometimes Vander felt like he wouldn't be able to handle everything he had to. Running a bar seems simple next to trying to make Zaun a better city; he has his people who take care of the Last Drop; they cleaned, served, and calmed things down.

But Zaun? He couldn't be too good with Piltover, but he couldn't push it either. Last week, when he spoke to Sheriff Grayson, they went over the epidemiology of the lung disease that was affecting more and more people both topside and down.

Some time ago, the main cause of “natural” death in Zaun was lung disease, which mainly affected miners. With the change of work pattern in the city to a more industrial category, the disease called Miner’s Lung subsided.

But the increase of industries brought with them toxins and so many problems that initially only affected Zaun. Industry above, industry below, in the end it was all the same, with everything that was left over being dumped on the outskirts of Zaun.

At first it was just Zaun's problem. But things changed; the biggest hospital of Piltover, Janna’s Heart Saver, noticed a change in the number of lung patients. At first, we were blamed for the problem; they said that we were producing some kind of drug that produced lethal toxins. Then the enforcers came with the production engineers, and they inspected every industry in Zaun and every pipe that brought industrial waste to the city. The final conclusion was, after two months of study, that Zaun was already contaminated, the air, the water, and the soil. And it was starting to contaminate Piltover.

The council wanted to solve their people's problem, but without mutual agreement, just forcing a unilateral solution, it only made his people mad. In the end, it was scheduled between the council and some Zaun chiefs, including himself, a meeting.

And even with so many problems in Zaun and so much responsibility on his shoulders. Vander had bigger problem at home. Taking care of five children, feeding and educating them came at various prices.

Maybe the biggest one was his sanity. Last week, as he had been sleeping soundly after a complicated day at the bar, where two idiots had decided to fight over some girl's attention. He woke up startled to a huge noise coming from the room that he used to call, in his mind, the colored hair room.

He ran there with half an eye open and with a dry throat. Opening the door, he saw Atlas, his youngest son, with a bloody hand on his face, and his oldest daughter knelt right by his side. He crouched and saw his right eye dripping blood from a big cut.

He looked to his left, where his daughter, who looked as if she hadn’t woken up yet, and said, “Go get the first aid kit in the bathroom; it’s right behind the mirror.”

Vi stood up and ran, even hitting her shoulder on the wall while getting out.

His other daughter, Powder, stood up and stayed still for a few minutes, until with a frightened look she said, “Is he gonna be okay, Dad?”

Before he could say anything, though, Vi got back with the green case and handed it to him. “Of course he is, Pow-pow.”

Taking a dry cloth from the box, he doused it with alcohol and dabbed it lightly on his son’s face. His son didn’t say a word, just stood still like the world stood still.

“It’ll stop hurting soon, Al, relax.” He said while cleaning the blood on his face and trying to comfort the boy.

------

After falling, the first thing I heard was a girl to my right, “Atlas? How in Janna’s name did you fall off the bed?”

She knelt beside me, lifted my chin, and looked at the blood that was dripping from my right eye. “The ladder slipped,” I said weakly.

“I’ll go get Dad.” She said, until the door suddenly burst open.

A man entered the room kneeling fast right in front of me, cursing and ordering Vi.

“Go get the first aid kit in the bathroom; it’s right behind the mirror.” He said.

‘He has a big nose.’ Was the first thought that crossed my mind.

The man grabbed a dry cloth, soaked in alcohol, and dabbed at his face. I let out a pained sound.

Then my second thought crossed my mind as I took in his appearance. Vander was right in front of me. To my right, kneeling by his side, was Violet.

I turned quickly to look behind me and saw a girl with blue hair.

“Jinx?” was out of my mouth before I even realized.

Chapter Text

The table was full. Powder and Violet sat at one side of the table, while Mylo and Claggor sat on the other. It was a bit over 8 o’clock; everyone was wearing a sweater and some trousers for the cold.

“Did you reall falof the bed, Al?” Mylo asked with a mouth full of bread. His question was slightly muffled by the sound of the radio that played some pop music.

Mylo had a grin on his face. He gave Claggor a little bump on the shoulder like they were sharing a big joke and gave a laugh.

“So funny, Mylo, haha.” I responded without even looking across the table, grabbing a piece of food that Vander had bought for the five of us.

Trying to think about yesterday, in the end, Powder looked at me with a look of anger while saying that she was definitely not a “Jinx” and that I was stupid for falling.

And I was. In my previous life I had never fainted or had any problems with hypotension. Vander ended up stitching me up and gave me a talk that I did not answer back, and that was that.

So now I had a problem. I was stuck in the body of an 8-year-old kid, and to make things even worse, that kid was from Zaun. Atlas, atlas, and atlas; the name sounded weird, the nickname Al even worse.

With my right hand I took the last piece of bread to my mouth; I saw in the corner of my eye Violet watching me with worried eyes. She looked so young; her hair looked so bright with the morning sun. “You better Al? Maybe you should trade places with Pow-pow here tonight.” Violet said.

At that, Powder gave a giggle.

“I’m all right. It was nothing, Violet.” I said, trying to ignore everyone and make my anxiety slow down a bit. I got up, put my plate in the sink, and left the kitchen before it got worse.

I had no idea how this “Atlas” was. How he acted or talked to anyone in this house and what he was good at. And to make things worse, not watching the second season of Arcane made everything worse.

But I knew that Vander would die, Violet would be in jail for god knows how long, and Powder? Better not to even think about it. My hopeful thought was that changing everything made the second season useless. There was no second season if Vander stayed alive.

-----

Entering my new room, I went to the mirror that was right in front of the door, next to Violet’s bed. Getting closer and looking at myself, I saw that besides being so small and young, the hair was probably the thing that drew more attention. It was purple.

I thought to himself how genetics worked in this world. Sister blue, sister red, and myself purple. Hopefully the only mixing between Powder and Violet was their hair, not their personality.

Aside from the hair, the stitches next to my eye looked a little red. Hoping that it would not get infected by some crazy bacteria that this world had. In my last? First? Life, I studied medicine, but knowing about it from a previous life maybe meant nothing in this one.

In a world where gods lived, weird diseases were probably the most normal thing.

Still looking at the mirror, I saw Powder and Violet entering the room. Powder had an aluminum can in her hand, with some gears on the side and a string on top. “So when we go to Benzo’s, I can get some pink paint,” Powder said while jumping excitedly.

“Wanna come too, Al?” Violet said while coming over to his side

Before I could answer, she looked at me in front of the mirror and said, “Don’t worry about scarring; I have a bunch of them, and it builds character.” Thinking that my anxiety was caused by the cut.

“But yours are because you beat those bullies!” Powder responded, giving no rest to the fact that this scarring would be for a fall from a bunk bed.

“I’ll stay here today. My head still hurts a little.” I said, trying to get a day to think over how I could make things work.

Vi gave my shoulder a squeeze, grabbed her red coat, and said, “Let’s go then, Powder. Vander asked us to pick up an order of glasses for him later.” As she walked out of the room, Powder followed.

And alone for the first time, I realized that I had to start somewhere. Getting up in the ladder that I fell earlier and lying in bed, I realized that the thing that ignited all problems was Jayce's visit to Benzo’s shop and the stupid idea to steal his workshop. Knowing Violet and everyone from an outside perspective, I knew that trying to talk them out of trouble was probably useless.

Besides remembering that the biggest problem from the heist was the explosion from the hextech crystal, I couldn’t remember what caused it to explode. Jayce was stupid. Working with things that he couldn’t control and would put people in danger if it was for the greater good of science.

Maybe he left the crystal hanging on the table and just dropped it when someone was stealing something?

The best idea that I could get was going with them and making sure that no one got in trouble or telling Vander what they were trying to do, something that seemed pretty bad.

Before I could think anymore, heavy steps on a wood floor grew closer to me. It stopped next to the door when someone said, “Hey kiddo, you better?”

Getting up from the bed and looking at the door was Vander. Looking at him fully and not only at his nose, I realized how he had dark circles beneath his eyes. When watching the series, I always thought that taking care of four kids, Zaun, and the bar was a job way above for only one person.

“Yeah, the cut doesn’t even hurt anymore.” I answered back, trying to make him less worried. I knew that it was not working. Suddenly his kid is weird and falls hard on the floor; what father would just let it go?

“That’s good. Vi said that your head hurt. Want to see a surprise for your early birthday present?” He said, trying to give a little smile to make me feel better.

And I just felt worse. Stealing someone's body was bad, even worse being right before their birthday. “Right now?" I asked, trying to get down from the bunk bed.

Before I could even put my feet on the ladder, he grabbed me and put me on his back. “Hmm, maybe.”

Getting a pig ride was pretty weird, but going with the flow was probably the best thing I could do right now. We walked out of the room, got up some stairs, and went through a door that led us right to the street.

And looking at Zaun for the first time, I could say without a doubt.

Zaun looked alive.

Chapter Text

The engineering process to build Zaun looked unique, something that I never saw in my previous life. There were a lot of bridges that crossed buildings from one side of the district to the other.

The buildings looked so unique, some of them shaped like towers from a castle, with several windows and chimneys on top that emitted green smoke.

I had imagined watching the series that Zaun would be dark, but the sun beating down even in winter with the streetlights that were turned on during the day illuminated everything, making it very bright.

Still at Vander’s back, we walked through a busy street. By how high I was, I could get a good glimpse at the people walking and living their lives. To my right was a boy that was probably my age running while he tried to pass through the crowd, together with a dog. Both of them wearing weird goggles.

“C’mon, boy!” He said still running.

On my left stood a pair of enforcers leaning against the wall of a pawn shop, one of them a man in his thirties smoking a cigarette that seemed to be made of straw while whispering something to the other. They both seemed to stare at Vander and me with a strange look on their faces.

My thoughts on the pair were interrupted when a deep voice coming from underneath echoed along with the noise of Zaum, “I heard that you and Powder finished inventing something new?”

Vander asked while continuing to walk and tapping my leg.

“Yeah. That’s why she went to Benzo’s; she needed some pink paint.” I answered back, trying to sound like I knew exactly what was going on in this new life.

“You two bug Benzo a little too much.” He said with a laugh.

“Maybe?” Was what I responded, sounding a little sheepish.

We turned right into what looked like a public market. “One is 5, and three is 10!” A guy advertised at his little stall with three very strange fruits in his hand.

As we passed different stands, I could see people buying fruits and vegetables that looked nothing like the ones that I had seen.

A larger store that looked like a butcher’s shop had a few pieces of meat hanging from it with red signs advertising the best meat and best price in only one place.

It really didn’t look like a cow or a pig hanging there.

Still walking across the market, we came to a stop at one of the last stalls in the street.

“Mornin, Vander!” Said a big guy behind the counter that didn’t look too much like a human. What was most striking about him, besides his long beard and gray hair, were his giant drooping ears and his green beak.

This stall was like a fish shop, and it smelled even worse than those in my world. A fishmonger with a duck-like appearance sounded a bit ironic.

“Morning, Cyler. Anything fresh today with a good price?” Vander asked while he looked around.

With a ridiculous salesman’s pose, Cyler said, “Everything is fresh in here, my man!”

“Then I’ll get your freshest Jaull-fish.” Vander asked while looking around.

Cyler went to one of the counters that was filled with ice, picked up a blue fish, like Jinx blue, and showed it to Vander, who nodded as if it was perfect.

After packing up the fish and paying it, we made our way out of the market. “Let’s go get your present now.” Vander told me while turning left into a less busy street.

—----

When Vander was a kid, he used to climb the highest building in the lanes at night and stare at the sky.

He would do that more on his worst days.

Death was something that sometimes was a little too common to happen down in any part of the city. His father used to say that weak men died, strong men died. Your strength did not matter in Zaun.

If he had a thousand lives, he imagined his father was strong in every single one of them. A miner who took care of his children after his wife died.

The day he and his brother buried their father, they both walked through the city a little aimlessly, got some food from their father's favorite food stall, La Sabrosa, and climbed the highest building in the city, like he would use to on his bad days. Staring at the sky, they talked about Zaun, Piltover, their future jobs, and their house. It was such a weird feeling, because it was not like they didn’t expect it. Their father had plenty of health problems, and the older he got, the worse they became too.

One of the doctors in their district told them during a medical appointment that his father’s life expectancy wasn’t very high. The prognosis for his lung disease was terrible.

But even knowing it would happen, it still hurt. It still changed their lives.

The building he used to climb to the roof was a shopping center. It had stores that sold clothes, medicines, food, and even household items. But one of the most interesting stores inside the mall was on the 13th floor.

It was an imported goods store. They had products from Demacia, Noxus, Ionia, and others. And in that store was the present Vander decided to buy for Atlas.

When you have children, you want the best for them at all times. And in Zaun that maybe meant crossing the bridge and getting to Piltover. That was not an easy thought to accept when you are one person that controls the lanes.

He knew his kids were smart. Crazy smart. Each one of them with their strengths, Violet had a maturity above any kid her age; you could ask her to manage the bar, help clean, do this or that, and she would.

Powder with her toys, which were just toys in the beginning, like cars that raced in a straight line or little planes that flew in circles. As she got older, her innovations got more creative; now she was building some kind of glitter bomb.

But Al? Ever since Al was old enough to learn anything, in his 3-year-old phase where every kid asks why anything happens, he would ask why Piltover and Zaun were so close but so different, why their hospital was so poor, and why their neighbor was dying of a disease that had a cure.

His inventions ran a little toward that side. Trying to make things that would change people's lives with the little he had.

Vander wished he could give everything to his children. Pay some scholarship to Piltover Academy; buy the best books available to them.

At least once in a while he would do something for them that diminished his guilt a little. Like today.

“Press the button with a thirteen on it, Al.” Vander asked Atlas, who was standing after being carried for quite some time.

Al stretched out his left arm and clicked the button. The elevator made a noise and began to rise. It wasn’t an extremely modern elevator. It played a song with a simple beat as it went up slowly.

After a few minutes, without any warning, the door opened.

Entering the thirteenth floor, a sign with the name L#S Customs that would draw anyone's attention flashed with red lights.

They walked over, opened the door, and entered. A woman with blond hair who looked like she was in her forties sat on the floor arranging a shelf with a box on her lap.

As they walked in, a beep sound was heard. The woman turned around, looking directly at them.

“Vander!” She exclaimed while putting the box down and getting up. “Your present is in the back; I’ll go get it.”

As Vander nodded to her, Atlas asked, “You know her?” with a confused expression on his face.

“Anytime I need to buy something special, I come here.” Vander responded with a little smile on his face that sounded hopeful.

Atlas looked around. Right in front of them was a shelf with a tag that read Noxus, with some items that would call anyone's attention. There were some bracelets in red with weird symbols that Al had never seen; next to it there was a scarf with a black rose in the center.

Before Atlas could go keep looking, a female voice was heard, “Here it is.”

The woman from before held a little box, with a smile on her face. Vander grabbed from her hands, saying his thanks.

“It’s all settled, right?” He asked, waiting for her response.

As she nodded and went back to work, Vander asked Atlas, “Wanna open at home or now?”

Atlas thought who would wait to open their present at home if they could open it now?

Reaching for the box, which was wrapped in blue and pink plastic, Atlas felt on his hand that the box seemed a little too light.

Opening carefully so as not to tear the pretty packaging, Atlas got a view of the present. Laying the plastic on the floor, he continued to open his gift until he saw a small box painted black with terry cloth around it.

Opening it, a silver bracelet with green engravings shone against the reflection of the store’s yellow light. “Go on, put it on your arm.” Vander said with bright eyes.

As soon as Atlas took the bracelet and put it on his wrist, the green engraving began to glow. Atlas just continued to look with his arm outstretched, finding it a little strange, but trying to keep calm because this world was strange.

But Vander looked confused. He asked a little worriedly, “Mar, what is happening?”

Taking her eyes from her job for a little moment, the girl's eyes widened seeing the green light that pulsed through the store. She was about to say something when Al gave a little scream.

His fist was turning red. Vander took his arm with his own hand and tried to take it out, but it did not bulge it. Before he could try anything else, Atlas screamed, and then a cracking sound happened.

Silence stretched; Atlas was gone.

Chapter Text

Piltover was known worldwide not through its military might but by the engines of commerce and forward thinking.

For most people, the richest part of the city was Northern Piltover, generally described as being charming with a bright atmosphere. The districts of the North were divided into three.

When one would enter the district of Upper Piltover, an infectious energy that never failed to lift spirits sang to them. Citizens were greeted by a kaleidoscope of colors, white streets lined with star-rod lampposts that warmed everyone, inviting travelers into a world of wonder.

The air was thinner, clearer, and carried the clinking and hissing sounds of machinery creating a symphony of innovation and progress.

Together with the creative world of discovery, Upper Piltover was alluring to everyone by the glamorous food. The sweet fragrance of freshly baked pastries would linger in the air, the storefronts of bakeries boasting fantastical contraptions like clockwork ovens and steam-powered mixers.

Citizens would gather, their conversation interweaving with the bustling cafes that emanated bold aromas of coffee and tea that blended together.

Being so close to the most prestigious academy of Piltover, it was common for professors and students alike to be seen sitting at these food places of Upper Piltover.

Professor Cecil B. Heimerdinger, commonly known as Heimerdinger, was one example. One of the most innovative and respected inventors of Piltover could be seen almost every day after 5 p.m. at the Zinn Café.

"An aeropress coffee with no sugar and a croissant filled with cheese." Said the waitress as she placed the plate and cup in front of the small yordle.

Putting his journal down, he responded while adjusting himself on the chair, "Oh! Thank you, my dear."

"Are you sure that you would not like a coffee, Jayce? I have tried everything on the menu in this place, and I can tell you that all of them—"

"I'm sure, professor. It's late already, and the assignment you handed me last week is done." Jayce responded annoyed.

Sipping at his cup, a second passed long enough for them to stare at each other. The only sound being made was the mixer in the kitchen and the sipping sound of coffee.

Putting his cup back at the table, the professor said in a solemn tone, "Let time take care of itself; you're your—"

Their conversation was interrupted when a loud and explosive sound boomed through the bakery.

Even with the inventions and creations, Piltover was known for its strict research safety laws. Virtually all research in the city had to be approved by the academy or the council. The only way you could bypass the system was by being sponsored by one of Piltover's main families, be they merchants or researchers.

The penalty for unauthorized research was severe. The main changes to the legislation took place after an explosion in the district of New Piltover that killed 30 and left 19 with disabling injuries. That was the main reason why explosions and buildings falling nowadays were very uncommon.

Both men looked to their right, seeing through the window one of the oldest buildings in the district that stood across the street with a hole in its left wall.

Older structures were normally made of a mixture of polished marble, latticework bronze, and shimmering glass. This one, built by the merchant clans as a gift to one of the most prestigious inventors of Piltover, Valentina Zindelo, was no longer open to the public since her mysterious death.

As glass rained through the sky, people ran trying to find shelter. People ran inside workshops, restaurants, and even the bakery they sat.

The once empty bakery was now packed; people squeezed in to hold as many people as possible. Workers directed people and put chairs on the table to make more room.

The perpetual sense of movement that characterized life in the city abruptly changed as people stopped and prayed.

Both Jayce and Heimerdinger kept looking out of the window, while the sound of murmuring echoed around the room, a feeling of unease that could be felt by everyone.

"We should get out of here before this old thing falls—"

Jayce's speech was interrupted by the sound of a huge beam hitting the ground while it crushed a small stall that sold cookies in the street.

Everyone that stood close to the window took a step back. Everyone but Heimerdinger, who ignored the structures that fell from the sky.

"Do you see that, Jayce?!" The small yordle exclaimed while looking above.

"The energy emitted by these explosions is one that I have seen only in one place! It looks too much like—"

Before he could finish talking, a final, huge explosion was heard, with cardinal red smoke sliding down the walls of the building to the ground and hitting the streets.

The windows of the bakery burst with the shock, pushing everyone to the ground.

——

It was dark. I could see nothing, hear nothing.

My heart beat faster as I tried to touch the ground; my feet could not touch it, and my hand could not find any wall. It was like I was floating in an ocean of dry water.

When suddenly, they screamed at me.

Abomination! You are a monster, A MONSTER! YOU! YOU KILLED MY FATHER!

Millions of voices rang through my mind.

I TOLD YOU TO STAY AWAY!

Then the silence came back.

It did not continue for long. One strong voice interrupted it, "This chain of events, it started with you."

I flickered my eyes trying to find him in the darkness.

"All that remained were fields of dreamless solitudes." He continued.

"Our paths converged long ago, but how if you have never existed?" He asked as if accusing me.

Until they screamed even louder.

You killed six officers, Atlas! WHAT MADNESS WERE YOU THINKING!

If there is something that can be weaponized, we must have it. And you, Atlas, you are the biggest weap—

I tried to ignore them as I hugged my head between my legs and closed my eyes. The voices didn't care; they kept hammering my mind.

Killing is a cycle. One that started long before Vander and me, and it will continue after the three of you.

Close to passing out, the voices gave me a moment of peace. I opened my eyes, looking around, still seeing nothing.

Then a burst of light shed light on the room. Different colors ran across my eyes making me look tiredly around me.

The imagem in front of me, I had seen this before; it was the Hexcore.

Chapter Text

The sun was setting over Zaun, its dying rays barely penetrating the city's depths.

Vander's hand trembled as he reached for his pocket watch. 4:30 pm. His heart pounding against his chest.

How could a simple gift go so wrong? The Bracelet seemed perfect He thought. It belonged to a renowned Piltover inventor whose work had captivated Atlas.

The boy loved to talk about Zindelo's Incognium, a device supposedly capable of locating any person in the world. Though it never worked, the machine was still kept in a museum for tourists and everyone knew about it.

That's why Vander hadn't hesitated when he saw a bracelet that belonged to Zindelo.

After the initial shock, he'd questioned Vanessa, the shop girl, but she didn't know shit.

All she could provide was an authentication note that came with the bracelet, when it was purchased at an auction service in Piltover.

Vander had rushed home to search for clues, grateful that the kids were away. Lying to them would only make things worse.

His next plan was to gather some of his people and ask for their help. They would keep their eyes and ears open for anything in The Lanes. The bar would not open today, as they were all focused on finding Atlas.

Since he already had people looking for him in Zaun, Vander would cross the bridge by himself and try to gather any information, starting on the auction house that had sold the bracelet first.

At the cable car section that would take him to Piltover, an enforcer stopped him. "Zaun ID and reason for travel."

Vander produced his papers, and lied with ease. "Assisting Sheriff Grayson with a disappearance case at M.P. Station."

Looking up from his report, the enforcer just nodded at him, "Waiting time is 15 minutes. Payment booth's on your right."

Moving ahead, Vander stood anxiously waiting in line for his ride after paying.

The queue crawled by, as the 15 minutes felt longer than usual, but finally, the cable car finally arrived. Vander walked in chosing a seat near the door.

He tried to reassure himself, trying to push away his worries and focus on the possibility that Atlas was safe and would be found soon.

As the ride began to move, a mechanical voice chirped. "Welcome to the only and best intercity transit service of Piltover. Please remain seated for the duration of your travel and follow the rules for safe transportation."

Ending with a high pitched noise, followed by bland music.

He checked his watch again and saw that it was already 5 pm.

He wasn't sure when the auction shop would close, but most businesses in Piltover closed at six.

He still had a fifteen minute ride till he got to Piltover, plus the run to Midtown district, where the auction store was located.

As the car moved for next few minutes, he tapped his foot anxiously to the music until everything stopped. Red lights flashing on the wall.

Everyone on board looked at each other with concern.

Until a voice broke the silence.

"Entrances to Piltover will be closed for the next hour due to an incident in the Upper section. If you need assistance, please speak to the nearest enforcer."

"Fuck." Vander cursed under his breath, feeling even more stressed than before.


—


Magic filled the air with a swirling, iridescent glow that seemed to dance and flicker in front of my eyes. Colors I had never seen before shimmered and swirled in the air, creating a mesmerizing display that seemed otherworldly.

Soft whispers and chimes echoed through the air, almost as if the magic itself was speaking and singing to me. And underlying it all was a slow hum, like a heartbeat, drawing me in and captivating my senses.

The pulsing core before me defied my previous description — nothing like what I'd imagined watching the series.

I could feel it in my bones. As if it was offering me a hand, trying to keep me steady.

Despite my exhaustion, I couldn't look away.

I'd spent my previous life fascinated by nature's wonders, but this was different. This could make anyone question their place in the universe.

I drew a steadying breath trying to keep myself calm.

Looking at my hands, they still looked so foreign, so small compared to what I was used to. The bracelet in my arm glowed green, its light clashing with the core's energy.

I hesitated, not sure how to go from here. The voices that pummeled my head before had finally quieted down.

Looking around, everything looked so bright.

The room seemed to shift and breathe, its walls covered in ever-changing patterns. No obvious exist. Just me and the core, pulling at something deep inside my soul.

A felling that resembled a call from the thing that stood in the center of the room, made me approach it carefuly, each step intesifying the connection.

Standing before it felt like facing the sun.

Without hesitation, I reached out with my hand and touched it.


—


Violet glanced down at her watch. 4:40 pm. The sound of a stifled groan caught her attention. She glanced over where Powder and Ekko worked mixing oil, paint and glue.

"That's not gonna work Ekko, all you are doing is making a mess in here." She called out loud from her perch on the puff.

They ignored her until the little girl exclaimed happily while raising her hands in triumph. Guess it worked, she thought.

With a smug grin the little man puffed up proudly and replied with unmistakable pride. "Two little monkey bombs—blue and pink."

"It's not pink! It's violet." Powder announced angrily, snatching both devices from his hands.

"…Okay?" He echoed replied backing down.

Getting up from her seat, Violet stopped short next to them ruffling their hair as they protested. "Nice job, you two. Come on now, Pow-pow. It's getting late."

Powder stuffed everything she brought into her bag, and followed the older girl. Giving a little glance back, she waved and said "See you tomorrow, Ekko!"

Leaving Benzo's shop, the city's noise swallowed his reply as they closed the door.

Turning left, they entered a crowded avenue and walked down the street.

It was a busy time of the day, some people were going home from work making the stalls that filled the streets empty while bars were getting filled by the minute.

"Can we stop at the Pit? I wanna show it to dad." Powder asked, glancing at the taller girl while holding her bag, making the sound of clanging metal.

"Sure, maybe we can grab Al befo—"

Before Vi could finish, Powder darted toward a packed bar. Inside, stood transfixed by a screen where a reporter's voice cut through the usual din. "The explosions started 10 minutes ago. Enforcers are evacuating nearby streets next to Serenity Tower."

Vi pushed through the crowd to reach for her sister. They watched as footage showed a Piltover high-rise, its pristine walls now scarred with gaping holes.

The bar erupted in bitter laughter. "Let's hope it falls on another and the whole city crumbles," someone shouted, earning scattered cheers.

Then a camera set upon an airship zoomed in through one of the buildings holes, revealing a small boy standing in the wreckage, his face a mask of confusion and fear.

"Our cameras show a small boy in the building at the time of the incident," the reporter's voice softened. "A group of rescue enforcers are heading in right now to try and save him."

The bar's chatter continued, most patrons already turning back to their drinks. But Vi felt Powder's hand slip into hers, squeezing tight. Her sister's voice came out barely above a whisper, "He looks like Al."

Vi's heart beat harder on her chest. She stared harder at the screen, and suddenly she couldn't unsee it—the same build, the same way of standing. The same lost look Atlas sometimes got when he thought no one was watching.


—


When my hand touched it, time froze—then shattered.

To my right, thousand of versions of myself stretched into infinity, each one slightly different.

Images flashed before my eyes, too fast to grasp but somehow burning themselves into my memory.

The core pulsed, its colors intensifying until they threatened to blind me. Reds became blood, blues became oceans, yellows became suns—each shade more real than reality itself.

My heart raced to match the core's rhythm, everything accelerating until the universe seemed to spin around him. Too much. Too fast. Too real.

Then, cutting through the chaos, that single voice returned—the one from before, heavy with its strange accent.

"Despite the circumstances, Atlas, I am pleased to see you."

I spun in place, searching for the source, but the voice seemed to come from everywhere, "Who are you?"

"It matters not. This will change nothing" The words resonated with an ancient weight, as if they'd waited centuries to be spoken.

"Such a small being, capable of affecting so many lives." The voice carried a hint of something—Amusement? Pity? "What do you want to be when you grow up, little Atlas?"

Time seemed to slow as I struggled with the question. Such a simple thing to ask a child, yet here, in this place between places, it felt heavy with meaning.

"Kind, I wish to be kind." I replied at last, my voice trembling with uncertainty.

Suddenly, a searing pain shot through my hand, causing me to wince and look down. The once glowing green marks on my bracelet had transformed into a vibrant shade of red that pulsed with heat in my arm.

But even through the agony, I could hear his ominous words. "Let's hope your future hold kindness to yourself and others."

The intensity of the pain continued to increase, causing me to collapse onto my knees as if my very existence was being ripped from reality.