Arcane:changing the world (reader x Arcane League Of Legends)

Shadows

Zaun was never a nice place. There was a time when it was filled with good people, but even that was a memory now.

Zaun was never good, but it was different. Shimmer shipments had been slowing to a stop, leaving the junkies without fixes. That always went one of two ways. Two roads, if you will. One was a road to recovery, the other was.. well, not so optimistic. Ever since the incident in Piltover, the music seemed that much louder, whispers became theories and people were curious.

Y/n was aware of Silco. Came across him once or twice in the past, performing in the streets wasn't exactly subtle. He was evil but polite. Being evil was bad and all, but polite people tipped well.

They wandered the streets aimlessly, stumbling upon a bar.

"Vander." They knew Vander, same as everybody else did. Couldn't resist a stray kid, served good beer. It was a damn shame. Silco had taken it over but his death brought chaos among his lackeys, leaving it abandoned. What was the use of the loyalty he always spoke of towards a dead man?

They continued on their journey, circling back through an alley and finding themselves back on that bridge.

They were relatively young when they saw it. Smoke stained red by blood and rage. Right from their bedroom window, they could hear the screams, smell the blood, the sweat, the tears. No curtains to block the sight, no music to drown it all out, no fine wine to drink it all away.

Their parents were uneasy, living so close to the bridge could have very easily been their downfall. Those few zaunians that got past the bridge, weapons in hand, face battered and bloody scared them more than anything they had encountered, though they never admitted it.

They stayed inside that day, tucked away in a little corner.

Their father had brought in a little cactus that they held close, occasionally pricking their chin when their head grew heavy.

Vivid images, vivid images that haunted that bridge.

And yet, the day was lovely. Despite the lingering fear of another attack, the streets were bustling and things continued as usual.

Well, not completely.

Jace was sat in his chair, hands intertwined in front of him. He was deep in thought.

He, out of some twist of fate, remained unscathed. Apart from the wounds in his arm, bandages where glass has pierced him and bruises from the impact.

Mel seemed to take the brunt of the explosion but she was fine at that moment. The council was alive but unconscious. Every one of them, leaving only him and Viktor, who had soon after slipped into his deep sleep, only that more terminal.

Maybe the stress was finally hitting him and he was alone. Alone. Maybe that was how Viktor felt. He shook his head.

Not the time, never the time. After all, he had a special guest. He cleared his throat, putting on his best speech voice.

"After all, Piltover is the city of progre-" He faltered and groaned, sighing himself out of his chair and flattening the many creases in his vest.

"Here we go again."