Chapter 1
They say that there are no accidental meetings between souls, that when you have met the one, you’ll know. Caitlyn knew her soulmate had to be out there, she knew that. But with a billion-odd people in the world, she figured that she would never meet them. She had accepted that apparently indisputable fact with the grace that was expected of her and honestly, it was a comfort for her knowing that there would never be a person that she would be so bound to that she could forget herself. People lived love and happy lives without their soulmates all the time.
Yet…
When she caught her parents looking at each other in that way, their silent conversations in quirked eyebrows and soft smiles, she wondered what it was like having someone else’s voice in your head.
“It’s really not that different than speaking aloud, dear.” Her father had told her once when she was younger, tinkering with some odd-looking mechanism on his workbench as they spoke. “Simply that it is private, for you and the one you love the most.” he held out his hand and gestured to the tool she was holding.
That answer hadn’t been enough for a pre-teen Caitlyn who merely huffed, sighed and sulked as she handed her father over a wrench causing her dad to giggle.
“It’s hard to explain, Caity.” He winked at her before turning back to his work. “I hope one day you get to experience it.”
“I don’t.”
“No?”
“No.” She crossed her arms, holding her nose in the air as she spoke in that resolute tone that only an eleven year old can really master. “I should think it would be incredibly annoying to have someone in my head, reading my thoughts and speaking all the time.”
“You think?” Her dad held back a smile, his kind eyes crinkling at his stubborn daughter.
“I do.” She nodded. “I hope I never meet my soulmate.”
It’s funny how things work out, isn’t it?
Caitlyn truly believed that she wasn’t going to meet them. How could she when she was such a misfit among her peers? Where would she even get the opportunity? Her parents, to their credit, never seemed bothered by her lack of predestined love. Though her mother sometimes bemoaned her disinterest in the many suitors who came knocking on their door.
“Caitlyn, I wouldn’t mind if I thought you were waiting for your soulmate.” Her mother hissed in her ear at a gala one night. “But you could at least try to make an effort with these young men and women.”
That earned a scoff from her daughter who just rolled her eyes.
“Why should I?” She said back, a little too loudly for her mother’s likely, causing the older woman to glance around them. “I have no interest in dating, Mother. My career comes first.”
And so, here she was, fighting for a career that had already ended abruptly and without her consent. Continuing with an investigation that had never started in the first place. Here she was in a sweating place that could only be described as truly Godforsaken. Following what she was starting to believe was a dead-end lead in this crumbling prison. She watched, thumb drumming the casefile clutched to her chest as the numbers plummeted down on the rusting indictor above her. The lift moved steadily below the rock, below the soil, her ears popping as they plunged into what felt like the stinking depths of hell.
Hardly a place to meet a soulmate at all. In fact, the thought never once entered the loud and mountainous thoughts within her head.
She was escorted down a long, damp corridor, barely lit by the rusting halogen lights above her head. She knew that Stillwater would be grim, she steeled herself for the catcalling and the stench, nothing could have prepared her for this. She tried not to glance too hard into the darkness of the crumbling cells to her right. Only a handful out of the hundreds she knew were here seemed occupied. That made sense, of course. Prisoners were only brought to the solitary cells in extreme circumstances. At least, that was what the rulebooks said.
The guard beside her stopped so suddenly, she almost found herself slamming into his back. He grunted at the cell beside them before raising an questioning eyebrow. She bid him a quiet thank you and a curt nod as he turned and ambled down the hallway.
“Who the hell are you?”
From the moment she laid eyes on 516, Caitlyn knew she was a danger. It wasn’t the look in her eye, the reports in her casefile, or even the fact that her calloused, barely bloody knuckled had been so audibly punching the cracking wall just moments before Caitlyn arrived that told her she was trouble. It wasn’t the way she paced her tiny cell like a caged animal. It was a gut feeling, a quickening of her pulse, a fluttering in her stomach that she had never felt before. An electric thrill that swept through her like a landslide, stirring the tumbling of her thoughts and the rumbling beating of her heart until she felt like she needed to run.
She held her ground despite every instinct screaming at her to just fucking go. Her grip tightened on her folder, her eyes darted towards the other guard who had already made his way down the end of the corridor. She steeled herself and held her head up high.
“I’m Officer Kiramman of the Piltover Enforcers.” She said, her voice quaking only slightly as she spoke. “I’m here to ask you a few questions.”
“Is this a new torture thing they’re trying out, huh?” 516 spat on the floor, rubbing the back of a wrapped hand across her mouth. A trail of spittle broke itself halfway in the air. “Twenty questions with the Piltover Pigs? I’d rather have my ribs broken again instead, thanks.”
Caitlyn ignored that snide comment, but she couldn’t help but be thrown off by that blasé response. It made her think about the large cudgels each of the guards wore, the casual comments they made to each other. What exactly happened at Stillwater? She stood her ground and watched as 516 paced the floors, back and forth and back again. She seemed as on edge as Caitlyn felt.
“I took a look at your file.” Caitlyn said calmly. “There's no record of you or your crimes. What are you here for?”
“My sunny personality.” She walked closer to the bars in the door.
Caitlyn felt herself baulk slightly, pulling back.
“You attacked an inmate. Why?”
“Why not?” Everything about 516 was tense. She stalked her cell, dragging her feet, fists tightly clenched and head focused on the floor in front of her. Her tattoos rippled as the muscles moved and stretched. It was like she was waiting for the trap to be sprung. She did not meet Caitlyn’s eyeline.
“He was a witness in an ongoing investigation.” One that could be the breakthrough I need to keep my job.
“Hmm, bummer.”
I don’t know why I’m bothering. Caitlyn thought, inhaling deeply. “This was a waste of time”. She sighed with a scowl, turning away from 516 to leave defeatedly. Another dead end.
“Couldn't have put it better.” 516 scoffed. “Hey, give Silco a kiss on that winning eye of his, will you?”
She stopped in her tracks, glancing back through the dingy light toward the cell once more. Caitlyn had heard the name, it popped up in the papers of her investigation occasionally, in shipping manifestos and articles here and there. Could it be that there was something more to the man than just a humble businessman from the lanes? She had suspected, had a gut feeling that there was more to all of this than what had come to the light so far. She stepped back up to the bars separating her from 516.
“Silco? The industrialist?” She asked, glancing into the cell. 516 was facing the back wall, clearly turning to resume her assault on the cracked stonework once more.
No, Silco the fucking florist. Caitlyn heard her say, rolling her eyes as 516 snorted and spoke louder, spinning to come towards the door again. Her eyes stayed glued to the floor, face turned away from Caitlyn entirely. “Okay, this is getting old. Can you just send in whoever's gonna kick the shit out of me, so I can get on with my night?”
Caitlyn’s blood ran cold. Regardless of what 516 had done, regardless of the reason for why she was here, Caitlyn could not fathom the condition of abuse she had to live through. Maybe I’m doing this all wrong. She thought, a sense of failure washing over her as she glanced down at her shoes. A flash of flaking maroon, the only colour painted in this grey abyss she had willingly plunged herself into. A line.
They hadn’t bothered to tell her what the line meant, figuring she would infer the dangers of stepping over it. But Caitlyn had always been reckless, throwing herself at danger headfirst to get answers. Her hesitation lasted half a millisecond before she was stepping over the line and flicking her file open. She held the first page up, her notes and scribbles interspersed with photographs from the scene of the latest attack.
“Does this mean anything to you?” She asked.
516 paused her pacing, an inked shoulder rolling stiffly as dark eyes flashed under a sweep of magenta hair towards Caitlyn. In one fluid movement, she was gripping the bars.
“Where did you get this?” Caitlyn flinched back but held her stance. 516 was younger than she had thought, around her own age. She had light grey-blue eyes and, even under the harsh lighting of the cellblock, she could see the dusting of freckles across her striking features. She was flecked in dust and grime, her hair greasy and unkempt but Caitlyn couldn’t help but notice that she was pretty too. Alarm bells went off in her head. She was desperate to know why 516 was here but that could come later, right now she needed to stay on track. She had come here for answers, not to uncover yet another mystery.
“My question first.” She straightened up, finding newfound confidence in this sudden break. “He worked for Silco?”
“Uh, they all do. How can anyone not know that?” Irritation soured 516’s voice, her eyes stayed fixed on the file. “Where did you find this?” Where the fuck is Powder? What do you know about Powder”
Caitlyn’s eyes narrowed and she shifted back slightly. 516 seemed desperate, her eyes bugging out slightly, her mouth agape as her gaze stayed bolted to the file. It could have been a trick of the light, it could have been her imagination but she could have sworn her mouth didn’t move when she spoke to Caitlyn.
“There was an attack.” She shook her head slightly. She had to focus. “This is evidence.” She held up the file again, lighting, temptingly. Like she was brandishing a carrot to a donkey who had only ever known the stick. “I need proof if I'm to believe what you're saying about Silco.”
She watched 516 sag, long lashes fluttering closed as her grip on the bars falling ever so slightly.
“I could get it for you.” She murmured, her eyes finally met Caitlyn’s. “Just not from in here.”I need to get out to Powder. How did she get that picture of Powder? Where is Powder? Is she okay? If they have that photo from Powder, that has to mean she’s okay, right? Fuck, she better be okay-
That odd feeling sank in her gut once more, her pulse hummed under her skin and battled in her ear. Caitlyn kept her breathing steady but she felt the gasp building in her, felt her expression slip and her eyes widen. 516 was babbling, her voice desperate. Yet Caitlyn watched on in horror as no sound escaped her lips, no movement crossed her poker face.
No, this can’t-
516’s narrowed gaze was on her once more, confusion dancing across her features, her head slightly cocked to the side. Caitlyn swallowed thickly.
“Who’s Powder?” She asked quietly.
“What?”
“You keep mentioning Powder… Who are they?”
“I- I didn’t say anything.”
Fuck.
Can you hear me?
“Yes, why-” Caitlyn's face fell, she felt bile bubbling up her throat. She hadn’t imagined it. 516 never once moved her lips yet she could hear her voice, clear as day. Wait, can you hear me?
516 scoffed, closing her eyes and exhaled heavily through her nose. She grit her teeth as she pressed her forehead against the bars of her cell and took a long, deep breath. She found Caitlyn’s eyes again and nodded. Her mouth stayed closed in a firm line.
Yeah, I can.
What does this mean? Caitlyn felt desperate. This couldn’t be.
You know what this means and you know this doesn’t fucking matter. 516’s eyes narrowed as she pushed herself off the bars of the cell door to continue her frantic passing, her shoulders noticeably tenser, pace noticeably quicker. Now are you gonna leave me alone to get on with my evening or keep asking me dumb questions?
Caitlyn cleared her throat. She had to focus.
“Who is Powder?”
“Next question.” 516 rolled her shoulder.
Why do you want to get out to them so desperately?
Next. Question.
Caitlyn sighed, flipping her file open again in an attempt to calm her beating heart. She schooled her expression and her thoughts. The last thing she needed was for this composure she so carefully curated to slip even slightly. But her thoughts were racing, her heart was beating like it wanted to break free of her chest. She felt herself derailing and crashing but she had to hold on for just a bit longer. Of all the places… She squeezed her eyes shut. Caitlyn had never believed she would ever meet her soulmate and she was truly fine with that, but to know that they were locked up, never to see the light of day for the rest of their life. How could Caitlyn possibly live with that?
“Look, if you get me out of here, I can help you with Silco.” 516's voice was desperate, her knuckles tightened on the bars once more, misty grey eyes intense as they pleaded with her. She couldn’t tear her gaze away. “You said it yourself, there’s no record of me or my crimes. You don’t even know my name, just my number but we are- we have this-” She hung her pink head and shook her head before looking back up with a heartbreaking desperation. “Something’s not right here, you know it. You gotta feel it, you have to! So let me out, I’ll help you.”
Caitlyn scanned her face, reached out and hunted for the lie in that open expression. But 516 kept her thoughts closely guarded.
It’s Vi. A voice spoke softly, drifting through the air as if spoken aloud. It wasn’t gruff, grating like what was spoken in the air. Something softer, melodic. A sound Caitlyn could so easily fall for. 516’s gaze flickered away for a minute, their hands shifting slightly, their tongue darting out to wet their lips. My name is Vi. Get me out of here, and I can help you, please.
Caitlyn almost softened. She almost reached forward to feel that calloused, bloody skin. To brush back that flopping hair. She couldn’t deny the ache she felt looking at Vi through the bars, the way she felt drawn towards her and yet… She had to. She couldn’t be taken for a fool just because she had found her other half. She blinked, narrowed her eyes and scoffed. She was not falling for the lost puppy act.
“In what mad world would I trust someone like you?” She barked out.
She felt a pang as she watched Vi draw back, eyes widening for an instant before hardening once more.
“Someone like me, huh?” Her face twisted into a snarl. “You enforcers are all the same. Just asshole criminals in fancy uniforms. You know what? Find Silco yourself.”
Caitlyn straightened up. Was she doing the right thing? She kept her thoughts to herself.
“I will, thank you.” And with that she turned on her heel and held her head high. She was barely a few steps away when she heard Vi’s jeering voice call down the hall at her.
“Hmm... Undercity's gonna eat you alive.” Vi scoffed. Nice knowing you, can’t say it was a pleasure to meet my soulmate at last. Enjoy life in that big, shiny house of yours, alone.
Plenty of people do it. Caitlyn shook her head as she walked away. I’m sure we’ll both survive.
It was faint as she walked further down the corridor, footsteps echoing on her way but she heard Vi’s reply whispering in the back of her mind, whispering fateful words that would make up Caitlyn’s mind in that moment.
Yeah, you might. I’ll be lucky to see another week in this hellhole. Good luck with your investigation, enforcer.