Connected

prolouge

Vander had always kept to himself, his world contained to the tight bond between him and Silco. The undercity had been a dark, brutal place in their youth, where survival was paramount and connections were often seen as a weakness. They had learned to rely solely on each other, and for a long time, that was enough. But then there was Felicia.

She was different. Something about her made them feel alive in a way the undercity never could. Her warmth and light pulled them in, making them feel like they were no longer just drifting, but part of something deeper. Slowly, the three of them became inseparable. They found comfort in one another's presence, day after day, as if the undercity's cold shadows couldn't touch them when they were together.

As they grew older, their world expanded. No longer confined to the depths of the undercity, they started to explore beyond its limits, stepping into Piltover's crowded streets and towering buildings. Felicia was the one who first suggested they leave their comfort zones. And it was there, in the gleaming city of Piltover, that Silco spoke of a dream—a new nation, free from the oppressive grasp of Piltover, a place called Zuan. At first, the idea had seemed impossible, absurd even. Three children from the undercity, dreaming of taking down a city as mighty as Piltover? But with every conversation, every secret meeting, the vision became more real, more tangible. It no longer felt like a far-off dream but something that could be achieved, if only they could push past the limitations imposed upon them.

Piltover had always looked down on them, treating the people of the undercity as nothing more than vermin. The hatred was palpable, woven into the very bricks of Piltover's high towers, and every glance from a merchant or guard reminded them of their place. That feeling, that disdain, fueled their desire to rise up. It made sense to Vander and Silco that they would unite the undercity—not just for themselves, but for everyone Piltover had cast aside.

Silco had always been the one with the fire, the grand vision. He spoke often of revolution, of what it would take to carve out a space for their people. His words were powerful, inspiring, and Vander felt a burning sense of purpose whenever Silco spoke of the future. Yet beneath the surface of their shared dream, something more was brewing—something unspoken between him and Felicia. It was a bond that ran deeper than friendship, deeper than mere loyalty. There were moments—quiet, fleeting moments—when Vander could sense it, a tension in the air, a connection that neither he nor Silco fully understood.

As Zuan began to take shape in their minds, the lines between their shared vision and their personal feelings started to blur. They weren't just fighting for the undercity anymore. They were fighting for something personal, for each other, for Felicia, whose presence tethered them both in ways they couldn't articulate. Even though Vander tried to keep his feelings buried, there were moments—unspoken, but undeniable—that told him more than words ever could.

When Felicia met Connol, a steady and kind man from the mines, Vander had never expected it. But perhaps he should have. Felicia had always had that effect on people. Slowly, their affection grew, and when she told them she was pregnant, it marked the beginning of a new chapter for them all. For Vander, it was a mix of pride and sadness. They had been a trio—inseparable, bound by a shared purpose—but now that purpose was changing. Connol and Felicia had their own path, a family to build, and the revolution was no longer their only concern.

The birth of Violet, their first niece, had been a bittersweet moment. Vander had suggested the name, and it felt right—Violet, delicate yet resilient, a symbol of the new life they had fought so hard for. As they stood together, watching Felicia glow with the love of a mother, it was clear that things had changed. Felicia had found a new place for herself, one that didn't revolve around the revolution, and while they still stood by her, Vander couldn't help but feel the weight of what they had lost in the process.

When the day came for the rebellion, the night of the bridge, Vander felt a deep, primal anger. It was a fight they had all been preparing for—an act of defiance against the city that had oppressed them for so long. But as the flames consumed the bridge, and the enforcers descended upon them with merciless force, Vander quickly realized how wrong they had been. The firepower they had faced had been beyond anything they could have prepared for. And then, in the chaos, Connol was lost—dead, taken by the violence they had promised to avoid.

The grief hit Vander like a crushing wave. He had failed to protect the people he cared about, and the reality of their actions became painfully clear. Felicia's pain was raw and unrestrained, her wail echoing through the flames, and in that moment, Vander felt the weight of his own guilt. They had pushed too far, too fast, and the cost had been far greater than any of them could have imagined.

In the weeks that followed, Felicia spiraled. The weight of the world pressed down on her as she struggled to cope with Connol's death, and Vander could see it in the hollow look in her eyes. Her grief consumed her, pulling her further into the darkness. She turned to alcohol, and it wasn't long before it became clear that she could no longer care for Violet and Powder. They needed stability, something Felicia could no longer provide.

So, Vander made the hardest decision of his life. He took the girls in. Silco remained with Felicia, doing what he could to help her, but it was clear she was slipping away. The vibrant, strong woman who had once brought them together was no longer there, lost to despair. And as Vander watched Violet and Powder grow, he tried to create a better future for them, one built on the lessons of the past—the mistakes they had made, the lives they had lost.

When Felicia died, it was the final, devastating blow. She had become a shadow of herself, and even in her final moments, Vander couldn't save her. But he could save the girls. He and Silco made a pact—silent but firm—to raise Violet and Powder, to give them a life that had been denied them.

The revolution, the dream of Zuan, was no more. The price of that dream had been too high. It was the girls, their future, that became Vander's focus. The underground was rebuilt, a place of safety and security for them, where they could grow up without the threat of the world they had known. And though the past could never be undone, Vander knew one thing for certain—he would fight for them, for their future, for the family he had left.