The world Below
The first thing Caitlyn notices is the chilling breeze; it’s one of the many things she didn’t expect from Zaun. The moment they descend to the Entresol level, she realizes it’s the lack of sunlight that sends goosebumps across her skin. Or maybe it's the fear of riding a ridiculous hoverboard with someone she barely met hours ago.
"Hold tight, princess. We don’t want to lose you just yet," the blue-haired girl chuckles.
"I have a feeling you’re enjoying this," Caitlyn mutters, tightening her grip on the girl’s shirt.
The hoverboard dips sharply as they near the ground, the landing rougher than Caitlyn would have liked. Her boots skid against the cracked pavement of the alley as she stumbles forward, barely catching herself before she falls. A rustling sound makes her look up. The two figures in front of her pull off their masks, and for the first time, she sees their faces.
They're just kids.
Caitlyn knew they were young, but seeing them now, without the Firelight disguises, makes it all the more jarring. The boy can’t be much older than nineteen, his hair a mess of white dreadlocks and withe paint covering part of his face. And the girl, with short blue hair and one pink strand, sharp grin and confident stance don’t quite hide the unmistakable youth in her features.
Realizing she never asked for their names, Caitlyn straightens, regaining her composure. “I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced.”
The blue-haired girl smirks. “Name’s Jinx. It’s what I go by when I run with the Firelights.” She gestures toward her companion. “And this is Z.”
"Z?" Caitlyn raises an eyebrow.
"Long and boring story" Jinx says, as if that explains anything.
Caitlyn crosses her arms and raises her eyebrows. "And I’m supposed to believe those are your real names?"
Jinx shrugs, dismissing the question with a careless wave. “It’s for our safety. Don’t take it personal, princess.”
Caitlyn exhales sharply but doesn’t argue. It makes sense, after all, she hasn’t exactly earned their trust, at least not yet. ¨So, Silco and his connections. How are we supposed to get information if almost anyone here works for him?¨
"Gert," Powder said, clicking her tongue. "She’s one of Silco’s old blood. Always has been. If anyone knows what that message really meant and who exactly did it, it’s her."
Ekko nodded. "She’s a regular at Babette’s. But don’t get your hopes up, Gert doesn’t just spill secrets. Even if she did, she’d sooner cut her tongue out than snitch on Silco."
They walk through the winding alleys of the Undercity, Caitlyn trailing slightly behind as her eyes dart from one sight to the next. The world below is nothing like the polished streets of Piltover, it’s raw, decayed, and alive in a way she never imagined.
Children sit barefoot on the cracked pavement, their faces smudged with grime, eyes wide and weary beyond their years. Some play with rusted scraps, fashioning makeshift toys out of whatever they can scavenge. A few watch her cautiously, their gazes darting between her and the two figures walking beside her.
Further ahead, an old woman huddles against the remains of a broken pipe, wrapped in layers of tattered fabric, her hands trembling as she clutches a metal tin. No one spares her a second glance.
Caitlyn swallows, trying to keep her expression neutral. She’s seen crime in Piltover before, smuggling, black-market deals, but this? This is different. This is suffering carved into every street corner, every pair of hollow eyes that meets hers.
Then she sees them—the ones that make her breath hitch. A man with gnarled limbs, his fingers twisted unnaturally. A young girl no older than ten, her skin mottled grey, veins darkened like ink had seeped beneath her flesh.
Ekko notices where her gaze lingers. “Some of ‘em got it from the Grey,” he says, tone matter-of-fact. “Others, from the air.”
Caitlyn turns to him, incredulous. “The air?”
Ekko scoffs, shaking his head. “Fuck’s sake. You really are clueless.”
She exhales quietly, her fingers fidgeting as she looks away. When she finally meets his gaze again, her expression is quiet, sorrowful. “My mother… she would do anything to keep me from seeing the real world.”
Ekko exhales sharply. ¨I think you are old enough to make your own decisions, you people just don’t care about us. People from Piltover only care about Zaun when it fits their agenda, it took you what? Three dead enforcers to finally spare a glance down here? People die all the time, not just from crime but from the lack of medicine, food and poverty. Your people just sit back in their gold chairs and watch everything unfold under their faces.¨
Caitlyn doesn’t say anything, she knows it would be pointless. Because she knew that at the end the boy was right. She also knows that she wont forget about any of this once she gets back, she would do anything in her power to help for the better.
Jinx let out a soft sight. ¨It’s not worthy, pretty boy. Lets just keep walking we are almost there.¨
Ekko doesn’t wait for a reply. He scoffs, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he picks up the pace. Caitlyn follows without another word, her shoulders heavy with the weight of everything she’s seen, everything she should have known.
Jinx glances between them, then sighs. Too much talking, not enough moving. She jogs ahead, gesturing for them to follow. “Come on, lovebirds. We don’t have all night.”
The streets grow narrower, the buildings pressing closer together as they descend deeper into the maze of Zaun. The air thickens with smoke and the scent of cheap perfume, the flickering neon signs casting distorted shadows on the damp pavement. It’s quieter here—not silent, but quieter. The kind of quiet that means people are listening.
Jinx leads them to an unmarked door at the back of a run-down pleasure house, a deep purple light flickering above it. She knocks twice, pauses, then knocks again.
Ekko leans against the wall beside the door, crossing his arms. “I’ll keep watch. You two handle Babette.” He eyes Caitlyn. “Try not to screw it up.”
Before Caitlyn can respond, the door creaks open, revealing a woman draped in a silk robe, her face painted in soft gold and deep red. Babette. She tilts her head, taking in Jinx first, then Caitlyn with a raised brow.
Babette’s lips part slightly, her painted nails now tapping against the desk as she stares at Powder like she’s seeing a ghost.
“Powder,” she breathes, almost disbelieving. “You were just a kid…” Her eyes flicker with something—relief? Pity? Worry? But she hides it behind a tight-lipped smile, shaking her head. “I thought you died that night.”
Powder smirks, but there’s no humor behind it. “Guess I’m full of surprises.”
Babette exhales, leaning back in her chair. “If you made it out, you should’ve stayed out. Things have changed without Vander looking out for us. Silco, he’s got it all now. The money, the muscle, the loyalty.” She watches Powder closely. “Even if you came back, there’s nothing left for you here, child.”
“I know,” Powder says, her voice quieter now. “I’ve been watching, despite it all. That’s why I’m here.” Her fingers twitch at her sides, but she shoves them into her pockets, schooling her expression. “I need to see Gert. I know she’s a regular.”
Caitlyn stood outside Babette’s office, arms crossed, trying to ignore the dim hum of the brothel around her. The air was thick with perfume and smoke, voices murmuring behind closed doors, laughter bleeding through the walls. She exhaled through her nose, resisting the urge to lean in and catch snippets of Jinx’s conversation with Babette.
Then, movement caught her eye.
A figure emerged from the shadows of a dimly lit hallway, stepping into the flickering glow of a wall sconce. Caitlyn turned her head slightly, pretending not to stare, but something about the woman made it impossible to look away.
Her hair was dark, tied back neatly, precisely, strands woven into disciplined order. A mask resembling what seemed to be a hound covered the upper half of her face, gold and ivory gleaming under the light, its sharp, mechanical edges catching the glow. But it wasn’t just the mask or the hair, it was the way she carried herself.
She walked like she owned the place. Slow, deliberate steps, shoulders squared, chin lifted just enough to suggest she didn’t fear anything in this room or anywhere, for that matter. Then there was the arm.
Pure metal, brutal and industrial, encased her right hand, its weight shifting as she flexed her fingers absently. It wasn’t delicate, wasn’t refined—it was built to destroy. And it had. Caitlyn could see it in the subtle scarring along the edges, in the places where metal had been reinforced, in the way people glanced at her but didn’t dare to hold her gaze.
Caitlyn did.
For a second, just a flicker of time, the masked woman met her eyes. A slow drag of her gaze, heavy and assessing, like she was memorizing Caitlyn in an instant. Then she walked past her.
Caitlyn let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, the faint scent of leather and smoke lingering as the woman disappeared through the door, stepping back into the Undercity night.
Babette studies Powder for a long moment before sighing. “You always were stubborn.” She stands, smoothing out her robe. “Come on, then. She’s in the back.”
Caitlyn stole one last glance at the door. Whoever that woman was, she wasn’t just anyone. And somehow, Caitlyn knew—this wouldn’t be the last time they crossed paths.
“Alright, let’s go,” Jinx’s voice cut through the moment. Caitlyn turned just as Babette and Jinx stepped out of the office, the tension between them barely concealed.
They walk through the perfumed haze of the pleasure house. Caitlyn eyes flicker from the lavish decor to the people sprawled out on velvet cushions. The city above had its decadence, its own brand of indulgence, but here, it was different. It wasn’t about luxury but survival, dressed in silk and drowned in liquor.
They stop outside a heavy door, candlelight flickering through the gap at the bottom.
Babette turns to Powder with a knowing smirk. “Be careful, kid. Gert ain’t as sentimental as I am.” She reaches out, gently tucking a loose strand of blue hair behind Powder’s ear. “But for Vander’s child? Anything.”
Then, with a final glance, she’s gone. Caitlyn barely has time to process what she just heard before Jinx turns to her with that sharp, mischievous grin.
“What now?” Caitlyn asks, folding her arms.
Jinx pulls her mask back over her face. “Now? We wake her up.”
Before Caitlyn can ask what that means, Jinx kicks the door open, strides inside, and slaps a metal mask over the face of a half-asleep woman sprawled across the bed.
Gert bolts upright with a muffled shout, hands flying to her face, but Powder holds firm.
Caitlyn’s eyes widen in horror. “Did you fucking lose your mind?” she whisper-shouts. “This is kidnapping! We could go to jail for this!”
Powder barely glances at her, voice dry. “You wanted answers.”