Chapter 9
Chapter IX
Vi didn't wake up for the next few hours.
At first, the stillness of the room was palpable, almost suffocating, as Caitlyn and Powder stood by her side. The afternoon was slowly slipping into night, but neither of them had mentioned the passage of time or the shadows that lengthened across the apartment. Vi remained in bed, her breathing more regular now, but her complexion still held that ghostly pallor that seemed unwilling to leave her. The fragility of her body, so firm and unwavering in her day-to-day life, seemed to have disappeared before them without any warning.
Caitlyn sat deep in thought from her position in the corner of the room, sitting in a small, somewhat uncomfortable chair. Her eyes kept glancing at Vi, but she didn't dare approach her. She didn't want to invade, but she also couldn't ignore the knot of worry that tightened in her chest every time she looked at the girl's face. Although Vi was motionless, Caitlyn could see the struggle on her face: her jaw rigid in unconsciousness, seeming to be fighting exhaustion, pain, and what might have been a mix of fear and helplessness.
Still beside the bed, Powder stood, arms crossed, eyes fixed on Vi, but with a tension in her face that spoke of her uneasiness. Powder didn't want to show what she really felt, didn't want to admit how much it scared her to see her sister in that state. Her expression was hard, but Caitlyn could see the cracks in the facade. Concern showed in the way her hands clung to her arms, in the way her gaze softened by the moment, as if she wanted to reach out, to touch Vi, to make sure she was still breathing. But she never did.
The silence was heavy, and even though Caitlyn was close to Powder, neither of them seemed willing to make the first move. The situation between them was awkward at best, laden with blame and unspoken words. The earlier argument still hung in the air, like a ghost they couldn’t exorcise. Vi’s sudden fainting had forced them into a temporary truce, but the distrust and resentment were still there, latent, waiting for the right moment to erupt again.
Caitlyn couldn’t stop thinking about what Vi had said earlier that day, how she’d tried to explain the consequences of what she’d lived through, the invisible scars she carried. She couldn’t stop thinking about the pain pouring out of both sisters as each defended her position. And most of all, she couldn’t stop thinking about her family, the thousand possibilities swirling through her head as she pored over the few things Powder had revealed along with what she knew of Vi’s past. The eagerness to pick up her phone and call her mother was almost overwhelming—not just to seek answers about something she perhaps should have questioned earlier, but to take refuge in the warmth of her voice, in the comfort that only her parents could give her.
Suddenly, Powder pushed herself away from the edge of the bed with a long, heavy sigh. She walked out of the room, cell phone in hand, her footsteps echoing in the silence. Caitlyn heard her walk across the small living room; her blurred shadow reflected on the wall by the dim light filtering through the windows. It wasn’t long before the front door opened once more and a murmur of voices filled the air. Caitlyn sat up in the chair, alert, listening to the heavy footsteps approaching the room.
And then, Vander appeared in the doorway.
His massive figure filled the room, casting a shadow that seemed to absorb all the remaining light. His broad shoulders and firm posture had always conveyed a sense of confidence, but now there was something else in his gaze, something Caitlyn hadn’t seen before: concern. Deep, genuine concern that creased his brow and set his jaw.
“How is she?” Vander asked, his voice deep but soft, as if he was afraid of waking Vi.
Powder, who had entered behind him, shrugged, avoiding his gaze.
“She hasn’t woken up,” she said, her tone trying to sound indifferent but failing to hide her anguish. “But her breathing is more stable. Not like other times.”
Vander nodded slowly, approaching the bed with careful steps. His eyes scanned Vi’s pale face, and Caitlyn noticed how his large, calloused hands clenched into fists before relaxing again.
“I was hoping it wouldn’t happen again,” Vander muttered, more to himself than to anyone in the room.
Caitlyn felt the air leave her lungs. There was something in the way Vander spoke, the way he looked at Vi, that told her this wasn't new. This had happened before. And maybe it had been much worse.
“Vander…” Caitlyn began, but the words caught in her throat. She didn’t know what to say, how to ask without invading.
Vander turned to look at her slightly.
“She’s strong,” he said, as if trying to convince himself. “We just need to give her some time.”
The silence that followed was even heavier than before. Caitlyn looked at Powder, waiting for a reaction, but Vi's sister remained silent, her arms crossed and her gaze fixed on the floor.
Finally, Powder cleared her throat uncomfortably.
“I need…” she hesitates, kicking her feet without looking up. “I’ll be outside.”
Caitlyn nodded, though Powder didn't even look at her. The woman left the room with quick steps, as if she were running away from something she couldn't face. The door closed with a soft click, leaving Caitlyn and Vander alone with Vi.
Vander approached the bed, placing a large, calloused hand on Vi's forehead with a tenderness that belied his imposing figure. He gently brushed her hair away from her face.
“It’s always been like this,” Vander said, his voice deep but full of affection. “Powder gets angry, frustrated, but in the end, she’s the one who can least stand to see her sister like this.”
Caitlyn looked at Vander, noticing the heaviness in his shoulders, the way his face was crumpled with worry.
“It’s hard,” Caitlyn said, carefully, trying to measure her words. “Seeing Vi collapse… it must be painful.”
Vander nodded slowly, removing his hand from Vi's forehead and sitting on the edge of the bed.
“It’s hard for everyone,” he said in a tone that revealed years of unshared burdens. “But Powder… she’s always felt like she has to protect Vi from everything. Her greatest responsibility. Ever since they were kids. And when she can’t do that, she blames herself.”
Caitlyn looked down, feeling a lump in her throat. She didn't know what to say, how to respond to something that seemed so deep and painful. She couldn't say she understood; her relationship with Jayce was the closest thing she knew to a brother, and yet she was sure it didn't come close to what Vi and Powder shared. Jayce certainly never generate in her the anguish and constant worry Powder seemed to bleed for Vi.
“It’s not her fault,” she said finally, voice soft. “What happened to Vi… it’s no one’s fault. Not yours or hers.”
Vander let out a long sigh, as if he had been carrying those words around for years. A bitter smile appeared on his lips.
“Maybe… we are just victims of circumstances,” he said, his voice a mix of frustration and sadness. “But it’s not easy. Balancing what they both want, what they both need… and at the same time, protecting them. Sometimes I feel like no matter what I do, I always end up hurting one to protect the other.”
Caitlyn studied Vander closely, noticing for the first time the depth of his exhaustion. It wasn't just physical; it was something etched in his soul, a burden he couldn't let go of.
“You do the best you can,” Caitlyn said, her tone intended to be comforting. “And they know it.”
Vander nodded slightly, but didn't respond. He got out of bed, gently stroking Vi's arm before heading for the door.
“I have to get to work. Claggor is taking care of things right now but he can’t handle everything by himself all night,” he said sounding more like an apology than an explanation. “I left some medicine on the kitchen table. Could you make sure she takes it when she wakes up?”
Caitlyn nodded, feeling a slight additional weight on her shoulders.
“I will,” she said firmly. “Don’t worry.”
Vander looked at her for a moment, as if he were considering something. Then he nodded, a sincere, warm smile spreading across his face.
“Thank you, Caitlyn,” he said, his tone sounding more sincere than she expected. “For being here. You have a good heart.”
And with that, Vander left the room, leaving Caitlyn alone with Vi and the echo of his words.
The woman sat there a little longer, biting her lip as she considered her options. She knew she wouldn't be able to leave until she was sure Vi was okay, that she was awake again, but she had to at least warn someone in case she didn't return home. She didn't want to imagine what Jayce would do if she stayed in Zaun one night without warning. Maybe bring an entire army of enforcers? The idea was as crazy as it was very possible.
She gently rose to her feet, glancing at Vi once more, making sure everything was okay. The little light coming through the window illuminated Vi's face, still in her rest. Caitlyn allowed herself a short sigh, trying to be calm, but her mind was still restless.
She slipped out of the room, stopping suddenly as she saw Powder sitting at the table with her hands clasped behind her head as if trying to contain an internal storm. The dim light from the hanging lamp cast long shadows over her figure, accentuating the tension in her shoulders and the rigidity of her posture. Caitlyn paused in the doorway, knowing there were no easy words to break the discord between them, not after everything that had happened.
Powder didn't even see her enter.
Caitlyn watched in silence, noticing that Powder seemed to be holding back tears. The slight tremble in her shoulders, the way her hands squeezed her head as if she was trying to contain everything she was feeling… something inside Caitlyn snapped in that instant. Powder wasn't as strong as she wanted to appear.
Doubt filled the Piltover artist. She didn't know if she should reach out, offer comfort, or just leave. The argument between them was still raw, and Caitlyn didn't want to be invasive, not when Powder was clearly struggling with something bigger than just Vi's words.
Finally, after a long moment of uncertainty, Caitlyn decided to sit across the table from the other woman. She sat there, saying nothing, simply watching Powder with concern. However, the silence between them was stormy, almost unbearable. Caitlyn didn't know how to start the conversation, and the fear of making things worse kept her in place.
But it was Powder, to Caitlyn's surprise, who made the first move.
“I’m sorry.” Powder’s voice came out soft, almost a whisper, but the words were clear and firm.
Caitlyn started at the sound of it. She stared at her in shock, not knowing what to do or say, but Powder didn't look up.
“I’m not good at this. I never have been… But I’m sorry… I just wanted to protect her.” Caitlyn remained silent, waiting for Powder to continue. She knew that interrupting her now would be a mistake. “But… I don’t know if I’ve done it right. I don’t know if I’ve done more harm than good.”
Caitlyn felt a lump in her throat. She didn't know how to respond, but she felt like Powder needed to talk. It was clear that she was struggling with something deeper than just not wanting Caitlyn around Vi.
“You’re her sister,” Caitlyn said tentatively. “And you love her. That’s all that matters. That’s enough.”
Powder let out a bitter laugh, as if Caitlyn's words were too simple for something so complicated.
“No, it’s not enough,” Powder whispered, finally looking up. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears, meeting Caitlyn’s with a vulnerability she’d never shown before. “Not when she’s hurting. Not when… when I can’t do anything to help her. Not when all I can do is make her feel bad about herself. I’ve failed.”
Caitlyn swallowed, her chest tightening at Powder's revelation. She couldn't just let her keep all that pain, it felt wrong, incorrect. Even though a selfish and resentful part of Caitlyn agreed with what she heard, another more realistic and objective part could understand that many times things weren't that simple.
“You haven’t failed, Powder.” Caitlyn looked at her, eyes sincere and her tone soft. “You’re doing the best you can. Vi knows and appreciates you more than anyone else, she loves you beyond any differences. I’m sure of that. And I…” she paused, feeling her words take shape and weight. “I want to help you too. Both of you. I know we haven’t had the best of relationships from the start, partly my fault too, but my intention has always been to help.”
Powder looked at her for a moment, assessing the sincerity of her words. Then she looked down again, as if she couldn't bear the intensity of Caitlyn's eyes.
“I don’t know how to do it.” Powder rubbed her face hard, trying to erase everything she had felt that day. “Vi needs it, but… I don’t know how to let her go. I don’t know how to trust anyone else to take care of her. Even herself”
Caitlyn held back a smile, unable to help but find it curious how similar the two sisters were to each other. They expressed themselves in the same way, shared the same insecurities even, just expressed themselves differently.
“You don’t have to know, just try.” Caitlyn put a hand on the table, palm out toward her. “And, although I am not from Zaun and may never fully understand you or Vi, I would like to try as well. I want to help you, just as Vi has helped me from the beginning. But only if you let me.”
Powder looked at her for a moment, her eyes filled with conflict, but also with silent understanding. Finally, she nodded slowly. With careful, tentative movements she took her hand, squeezing it lightly before pulling it away as quickly as she had taken it.
The space between them, though still fraught with suspicion and some animosity, began to clear. Caitlyn and Powder weren't entirely on the same page, but for the moment they had come to a silent understanding. Not everything would be resolved in a conversation, far from it, but for the first time since she'd met her, Caitlyn felt something was beginning to unravel between them.
Powder wasn't ready to hug her right away or share a friendship, but at least the barriers she had built were beginning to crumble.
“Would you like some coffee?” Powder offered.
Caitlyn nodded, thanking her for the gesture, even though her mind was far from the cup Powder was offering her.
After a while of quietness and small talk, Caitlyn settled back in her chair, her thoughts returning again and again to the topic that had been on her mind ever since she learned more about Vi. There was one question she needed to ask, even though she knew it might cause discomfort again. But she couldn't ignore it anymore.
She sat up straight, looking at Powder, who was engrossed in the coffee. The sound of the pot bubbling away was the only thing breaking the calm. Caitlyn took a deep breath, knowing this moment wasn't going to be easy.
“Powder,” Caitlyn began, her tone cautious but firm, “I need to ask you something.”
Powder paused for a moment, sensing the change in Caitlyn's tone. Then continued pouring the coffee into two cups, not looking at her.
“Shoot,” Powder said, her voice neutral, but with an underlying pressure.
Caitlyn took another deep breath, feeling the weight of the words before she said them.
“Vi told me about the year she was in prison,” Caitlyn said carefully. “When she was a child.”
Powder took a breath, the coffee pot still in her hand. Caitlyn could see her knuckles turning white as she squeezed the handle.
“And?” Powder asked more colder now.
“I need to know what happened,” Caitlyn said with a mix of determination and vulnerability. “I want to understand why… why they did this to her. And what my family has to do with it all.”
Powder set the coffee pot down on the table with a thud, turning to look at Caitlyn with an expression that was hard to read. She leaned her back against the kitchen counter, her fingers drumming on either side of her impatiently.
“Do you really want to know?” Powder asked, her voice filled with a mix of exhaustion and defensiveness. “Or do you just want to feel better about yourself?”
Caitlyn felt Powder's words hit her like a punch, but she didn't back down. This was not the time to be intimidated by Powder's more aggressive side, which Caitlyn now understood was nothing more than a defense mechanism.
“I want to understand,” Caitlyn replied firmly. “I know that knowing won’t change anything, but if I want to help you, if you’ll really let me help, I need to understand what my family did wrong. And maybe, just maybe, I can do something to fix it”
Powder looked her in the eyes carefully before letting out an annoyed huff, her face twisting into a scowl of disgust. Caitlyn momentarily feared a new argument would break out between them, but was surprised once again when Powder simply took both cups and placed them on the table. She slumped heavily into her chair, raising her head towards the ceiling as she pondered something.
Caitlyn hesitated slightly before grabbing a cup and daring to take a sip.
“Your grandmother… What was her name?” Powder asked after a few seconds. “I never knew.”
Caitlyn blinked a couple of times, perplexed, unable to finish bringing the cup to her lips.
“My grandmother?” she repeated, feeling like an idiot as she received a questioning look from Powder that clearly said ‘are you deaf or what?’ “Eloise. Eloise Kiramman.”
“Were you close to her?” Powder continued, leaning across the table, her hands wrapping around the cup in front of her as if she needed to anchor herself to something.
Caitlyn could do nothing but frown, not quite understanding where this line of questioning was going. She took a moment to review her memories, carefully evaluating her response. She felt that whatever she answered in that moment would define the direction of the conversation.
“Not particularly,” she said at last, deciding to go with the truth. “She wasn’t exactly the affectionate type. Plus, she and my mother always seemed to be kind of… at odds with how the family was run. Thus, I didn’t really get much of a chance to spend time with her.”
Powder nodded slowly, holding her gaze.
“So your mother wasn’t a fan of her either,” she said then.
“No. I don’t remember any time when they agreed on anything.” Caitlyn put her coffee aside, crossing her arms defensively. “I’m sorry. What’s all this about?”
Powder snorted, relaxing her posture. There was something in her expression that seemed to be re-evaluating her impression of Caitlyn so far, and she didn't know if it was good or bad.
“It was your lovely granny, Eloise,” Powder said in a low, bitter voice, almost spitting out the name, “it was she who sentenced Vi.”
Caitlyn felt her heart pound. Part of her had expected something like that, but that didn't make it any less hard to hear as her suspicions were confirmed.
"Why?"
Powder gave a bitter laugh, as if the question was too absurd to answer.
“Because she could,” Powder said, her voice thick with resentment. “Because she was a Kiramman, the highest authority at the moment, even within a fucking council that is supposed to look out for the well-being of everyone, and we… we were nobodies. Just a bunch of Zaun cockroaches who deserved no mercy.”
Powder sighed deeply, her gaze staring into space as the words came out, as if a wall that had been holding her back for years was beginning to crumble.
“Vi was just a kid. A kid, Caitlyn. But she made a mistake. A stupid, innocent mistake. She was just trying to help me. She had no idea what she was doing, and your grandmother… your grandmother sentenced her like she was a criminal…”
/////
Zaun, 9 years ago
The disease came without warning.
At first it was just a murmur in the alleys, a vague rumour of people falling ill in the markets, in the factories, in the homes of the slums. A fever here, an unusual cough there, but soon everything was out of control. The plague spread through Zaun like wildfire. There was talk of a virus brought in from the merchant ships arriving in Piltover, or of a chemist who escaped from some failed experiment at the University. No one knew for sure. But what they did know was that people were beginning to fall, one after another.
In Piltover, the fear did not last long. Doctors, with their advanced technology and access to almost unlimited resources, managed to contain the disease quickly. The streets were cleaned, the hospitals treated the sick, and within a few short months, everything returned to normal. Only a few elderly and the weakest in health died, but for the rest, it was little more than a passing scare.
But in Zaun… Zaun was a different story.
The infection didn't just come, it stayed, clinging to the city like a cursed shadow that suffocated everything as it spread. The streets stank of disease, of bodies that couldn't be buried in time. The factories kept running because people couldn't afford to stop working, but every day more and more workers collapsed at their jobs. The few hospitals couldn't cope, there were few doctors, and many of those who could help ended up collapsing as well over time.
Medicines began to run short.
The few that did arrive from Piltover were sold at absurd prices, unattainable for most. The rich of Zaun made sure to get them first, while the rest died at home, in the streets, in the markets.
Soon fear turned to rage.
Rumours of Piltover hoarding the best medicines and treatment spread like wildfire. People said the disease had been caused by them, that they were letting Zaun die to rid themselves of the excessive burden of the sick and the weak. Tensions rose, looting began, criminal groups saw the opportunity to enrich themselves by selling fake remedies or stealing the few remaining medical supplies.
And in the midst of all that chaos, a small family of orphans and their adoptive father struggled to survive and remain calm.
For Vi, her world had changed in a matter of days.
The streets that used to be full of noise and energy were now covered in shadows. Food stalls were closed, the children who used to run through the alleys were now at home, sick or too scared to go outside. The Last Drop, Vander’s prized bar and his family’s only source of livelihood, had become a makeshift shelter for those most affected, but there was not enough food or medicine to go around.
Vi, eleven years old at the time, always watched from the small window in The Last Drop warehouse as people rushed by, scarves covering their faces and panic-stricken looks on their faces. She didn't fully understand what was happening, but she knew it was something bad. Something very bad.
And Powder…
Powder had also fallen ill.
Vi had watched her big sister slowly get worse. First it was just a cough. Then the fever, then the chills. After that came the exhaustion so extreme she could barely stand, the hallucinations that came at night when the illness seemed to wreak more havoc. Claggor and Mylo had fallen at some point too. A couple more victims to the many that flooded the city, but their symptoms weren’t as severe, and they soon managed to recover. But not Powder, not her older sister.
She tried to cover it up, of course. She said she was fine, that it was just the flu, and that she shouldn't worry.
But Vi was no fool.
She knew Powder was getting worse as time went on. She knew her fever wouldn't go down no matter how hard Vander tried, that her cough was getting deeper and heavier every day. She knew her sister was losing the strength that had always characterized her. But what terrified her most was what she didn't say out loud, what she was unable to admit.
People were dying.
Vi had seen bodies covered with dirty cloths, lined up in the streets until someone had the courage to take them away. She had seen mothers cry for their children and children carry the weight of their dead parents.
She had seen Benzo die.
Ekko's adoptive father, the man who had been an honest merchant and always helped his people, had also fallen ill a week ago. Vi remembered seeing him coughing in his shop, his strong frame weakening with each passing day.
And one morning, he just didn't wake up.
Ekko was there when it happened. Vi was too.
She remembered the moment so clearly it hurt. The silence in the room, the trembling in Ekko's hands, always strong —always warm when he hugs her— as he tried to wake up the one who had given him everything in life. She remembered the way the color had slowly drained from Benzo's face, and the pain in Ekko's features.
Vi didn't know what to say, because what could she say? Words were useless when someone you loved stopped breathing.
And then, fear really hit her.
If Benzo, a strong and healthy man, couldn't resist... what chance did Powder have? Vi couldn't stand by and do nothing. Not when there was something she could do.
And she discovered it by chance, one night at The Last Drop.
She had been at the bar helping Vander deliver food and clean tables when she overheard a conversation that changed everything.
Two men were talking quietly in one of the corners, their faces partially hidden by the dim light. Vi wouldn't have paid attention if it weren't for a single word that caught her attention.
“...medicines from Piltover. They arrived yesterday at the central hospital.”
Vi stopped moving.
Her heart pounded as she carefully approached, pretending to clear a nearby table so she could hear better. It was particularly easy for her to spy on people, she was small for her age and could easily go unnoticed among everyone.
“They say they have a new shipment, things that could save anyone who is sick. But you know how it is… they won’t make it here.”
The other man laughed bitterly.
“No, of course not. Piltover keeps the good while we die with the little they leave us.”
Vi felt her blood boil in her veins. Medicine. There was the answer. Powder didn't have to die. Not if Vi could do anything about it, get her the medicine for it.
Without further ado, she made a decision. It was impulsive, reckless, but in her mind, she had no other option.
Vi knew she couldn't ask for help with this task. Vander would never allow it. Ekko would expose her the moment she opened her mouth. Claggor or Mylo wouldn't hesitate to question her or hold her back. And Powder... Powder mustn't find out.
This was something she had to do alone.
She waited until late at night, when the streets of Zaun were at their quietest. Like many in Zaun, she had learned to move in the shadows from an early age, to use the alleys as if they were a map only she could read. But Piltover… Piltover was different. The streets were wider, the buildings taller, the patrols stricter those days. She couldn’t cross the usual paths.
So, she went up.
She scaled the rusty, battered scaffolding of Zaun with shaking hands, pushing herself up with the strength her small but sturdy body allowed. The roofs were her best bet. From there, patrols wouldn't see her, and she could move more easily.
Powder had always been better at this. More agile, faster. Vi always admired her for it, trying to emulate her so that one day she could be on a same level, maybe even better. But at that moment, Vi had no choice. She leapt from rooftop to rooftop, the cold night wind whipping at her face, her heart pounding with every movement. Her boots slipped a couple of times on the smooth surfaces of Piltover, so different from Zaun, but she kept going. The fear didn't matter.
When she finally saw the hospital from a distance, she felt a pang of relief.
It was close.
Piltover Central Hospital loomed before her, its huge, illuminated windows and gleaming marble walls. From there, Vi could see the bustle of doctors moving through the corridors, the guards posted at the main entrances.
She couldn't get in there that way, so she looked for a weak spot.
Around the hospital, Vi noticed a small unloading area where medical supplies came in. Boxes stacked; workers distracted. That was her entry point. She waited, held her breath and counted to ten. And when a worker left a door ajar, she slipped inside.
The hospital smelled unlike anything she had ever known. Cleanliness, alcohol, a faint trace of medicine in the air. All so different from the feverish stench that had covered Zaun in those days.
Vi moved quickly. Crouching in the shadows, she avoided the main aisles and searched for the shelves where supplies were kept. She couldn’t read all the labels clearly, but she recognized the jars that people in Zaun would have killed for.
There was her sister's salvation.
She grabbed a couple of bottles, stuffing them into her jacket with shaking hands. She couldn't carry too many, or the clatter of glass would give her away.
Ans she almost made it.
But as she turned to leave, she made a mistake. A small vial rolled off the shelf and onto the floor, shattering into pieces. The sound of breaking glass seemed to echo throughout the hospital, a foreboding echo of her doom.
Vi froze for a second too long.
“What was that?” A male voice was heard in the distance.
The guards' footsteps were getting closer.
And Vi ran.
Her body moved before her mind could process the fear. She made her way through the hospital and slipped down the same hallway she had entered through. But this time, the guards were already on alert.
“Stop right there!”
She certainly didn't stop.
Vi went out the back door, pushing it hard with her body, and launched herself like a meteor into the wide streets of Piltover.
She ran with all her might. The golden lights of the city seemed brighter with the adrenaline pumping through her body. She heard the shouts of the guards, the sound of whistles, the echo of footsteps behind her.
She knew she couldn't outrun them; it was impossible. Instead, she climbed back up. She grabbed the emergency ladder on a nearby building and pulled herself up, climbing as if her life depended on it.
And maybe it did.
From the rooftops, she could see the streets of Piltover stretching out below her. The guards would search the avenues for her, but they wouldn't look up there. And so, she kept running. She jumped, climbed, and pulled herself up every time she tripped. Every muscle in her body screamed with effort, but fear drove her on and on.
When she finally saw the factories of Zaun on the horizon, she knew she had succeeded. Vi crossed the border between Piltover and Zaun without hesitation, feeling invincible, her heart pounding in the ears. She had won this round.
But her victory would not last long.
When her sister showed up with the medicine, Powder knew something was wrong.
Vi tried to act normal. She walked around their shared room with the same confidence as always, with that smug smile on her face as she pulled the bottles out of her jacket and placed them on the coffee table triumphantly.
“For you,” she said, her chest puffed out with pride.
Powder blinked, confused. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Vi was offering her real medicine. The same medicine that only the richest could afford, the same medicine that cost a fortune in Zaun and then some. Powder’s relief was immediate. For the first time in weeks, she felt like she could breathe, that maybe she had a chance at survival.
But the joy was short-lived.
When she looked at Vi again, really looked at her, she realized what her sister had done.
Vi tried to hide it behind that mischievous smile that looked so much like her own, but Powder knew her too well. Her clothes were dirty, with small tears in the fabric. There was a cut on her cheek, not deep, but visible. Her hands, normally firm, trembled slightly from recent exertion and the adrenaline that was leaving her.
Powder felt a knot in her stomach as she bent down to take her sister's face in her hands.
“Vi… where did you get this?”
The girl looked away to the side.
"It doesn't matter."
“Yes, it matters.”
Powder tried to remain calm, but fear began to build in her chest like a storm. She tightened her grip on Vi unintentionally, applying more force than necessary.
“Tell me,” she ordered.
Vi sighed, her jaw clenched.
“I just borrowed it from Piltover. They don’t need it, they have plenty”
Powder felt the world shake beneath her.
“What?” Her voice was barely a whisper.
Vi tried to laugh, her shoulders shrugging nervously.
“Nobody noticed.”
But that was a lie.
Powder knew it right then.
Vi was acting like everything was fine, like she had accomplished something amazing without any consequences. And she did. But the real consequences were yet to come.
The morning Zaun was invaded by enforcers, days after her sister's daring feat, Powder realized that the nightmare was only just beginning. Footsteps echoed in the streets. People's screams reverberated around every corner. Powder woke up startled, her body still weak from illness, drenched in sweat; but fear activated her faster than any discomfort.
She looked out the window and her stomach sank.
Piltover's forces were in Zaun.
Not just a few guards. There were dozen.
They moved in formation, kicking down doors, pushing people, searching every corner as if they were hunting something.
No.
No. No. No.
She jumped out of bed and crossed the room in a flash, looking around for Vi, calling out desperately.
“Vi?! Violet!”
Vi entered the room with a frown, still half asleep, her pajamas wrinkled from the night in bed
"Wha-?"
Then she heard it too.
The screams. The blows on the door.
The entire building seemed to explode when the entrance was knocked down.
And suddenly, everything turned into chaos.
The patrol cars entered like a storm of metal and authority. The screams of the people in the bar were thunderous. Many fought back, claiming the few rights they had, trying to defend their only refuge, but the enforcers surrounded them with a sinister force. Powder had never seen them so close, had never felt such terror. Their uniforms, their strength, their expressionless faces.
They did not come to negotiate.
They didn't come to listen.
They came to hunt.
“DON’T TOUCH HER!”
Vander appeared out of nowhere, charging at the guards, throwing punches with the force of a man protecting his family with his life and had nothing else to lose. But it wasn't enough. Months of fighting illness, exhaustion and sacrifice had taken their toll on his once strong and invincible body.
One of the patrolmen hit him in the face with the butt of his rifle, one, two times, knocking him to the ground with a loud crash that shook the wood beneath them.
“VANDER!”
Powder lunged at him, trying to help him, to protect her father, but a hand grabbed her arm and threw her to the ground. The air left her lungs with the impact, pain coursing through her entire body.
And in the confusion, she saw Vi.
The enforcers had her.
One of them held her arms, another pushed her towards the exit. Vi kicked, struggled and bite, but she had no chance against them. Her sister was still too small to defend herself properly. Her opponents were too big, too strong and without mercy.
And they were taking her away.
“NO!” Powder tried to get up, but a guard grabbed her and pushed her to the ground again, crushing her face with a knee, as if she were a rabid dog and not a person like them.
Vi's eyes met hers.
Powder would never forget the expression on her face.
Rage.
Fear.
And something deeper.
Something that tore her heart apart from the inside.
“POWDER!”
Vi thrashed harder, but it was no use. The guards dragged her out of sight.
Powder struggled, screamed, begged, but it was all for nothing. Vi disappeared beyond the door. And the last time she saw her; she was still calling out to her. Screaming her name in desperation. With a fear that would haunt her nightmares for weeks.
And then, she was gone.
As if she had never been there.
As if she didn't matter.
Powder was left alone, with the sound of her little sister's screams still burning in her ears.
The first few days were hell on earth. Vander tried everything. He spoke to the contacts he had, sought favors he didn't want to ask for, knocked on doors that refused to open. Nothing worked. Powder accompanied him to every attempt, to every rejected plea, to every encounter with officers who wouldn't even look them in the eye.
“Visits are forbidden.”
“There are no exceptions.”
“Go back to Zaun and forget about this.”
Week after week.
Rejected
Again, and again.
Powder felt like she was going crazy. That her sister was fading into a dark, endless abyss. Every day without seeing her, every night without hearing her voice, it was like the world was getting smaller and smaller.
What was going on with Vi? Was she okay? Was she being hurt?
The mere thought consumed and destroyed her from within.
Then came the trials.
Or what Piltover called "trials." Because there was no justice at all in that process. Just a well-staged theater, a mockery disguised as a legal procedure.
Powder and the rest of the family were almost not allowed in. Only because Vander insisted, because he screamed along with hundreds of others at his side, because he threatened to burn the whole damn building down if they didn't let him see what they would do to his daughter.
And that was when she saw it. Powder watched as the prisoners were led inside, chains on their ankles, wrists bound. People of Zaun, all together, like they were trash that Piltover was about to throw away.
And among them all, the smallest, Vi, the only figure that broke the formation. Powder felt her heart stop.
Vi didn't see her at first. Her head was down, her hair dirty and disheveled. Her clothes were torn, her face marked with bruises that weren't there when she was taken away. Powder wanted to run to her. Break the barriers, free her, get her out of here.
But she couldn't. Fear paralyzed her, her anguish suffocated her very soul. She could only watch and wait with bated breath until the sentence came.
“Violation of Piltover property.”
“Theft of medical supplies.”
“Association with criminals from Zaun.”
“Threat to society”
Empty, meaningless words. Powder couldn't stand it.
“Take me instead!”
The murmuring in the room stopped. Vi looked up, her eyes wide, but Powder didn't even think about what she was saying. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered if Vi could just get out of here.
If Vi could go back home.
“It was my fault!” she cried, her voice breaking. “She didn’t know what she was doing. I was sick. She just wanted to help me. Take me instead! Please!”
But no one listened. No one was moved by her display. The decision had already been made. Vi was to be sent to Stillwater as just another criminal with no right of reply.
Powder's desperation turned to fury.
She pushed through the crowd like a cornered beast, pressing and shoving, not caring who she hit. Until she reached her, the woman who had decided Vi's fate without any consideration. The leader of the council, Councilwoman Kiramman. Tall and imposing. Dressed with the elegance and uprightness of someone who has never felt hunger or cold.
She was the most powerful person in that room, the one pulling the invisible strings that sealed the fate of Zaun's doomed people. The one solely responsible for the greatest misfortune that was falling upon Powder and her sister.
“You fucking bitch!” Powder screamed, her throat burning, fury and helplessness boiling in her chest, her heart, her soul. “Don’t you have a heart?! She’s just a child!”
But the woman didn't flinch. She looked at her, her head tilted slightly, as if she were watching an insignificant insect. And then she smiled. She smiled with mockery and contempt. As if this whole scene meant nothing.
“Cockroaches like you don’t deserve forgiveness.”
Her voice was calm and indifferent, as if she were talking about an unimportant matter, just another afternoon in her busy schedule.
Powder felt her blood boil. The woman turned to leave, as if she had already lost interest, like she was not even worth looking at anymore. Kiramman left the room with the same despotic and arrogant air that she had expressed herself with throughout this whole time.
And that was the moment Powder understood. They didn't care. They never had. Vi never stood a real chance, not against them. Piltover, in its highest footing of authority and self-proclaimed entitlement, had decided her fate before she could even defend herself.
Powder pushed past the people again, struggled with the guards, fought with the strength of someone who had nothing left to lose. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Vander trying to reach her as well, his face contorted with the helplessness and agony of not being able to protect his daughters.
“Vi! Vi, look at me! VI!”
Her sister turned her head, searching for her voice in the crowd.
And then their eyes met again.
Powder would never forget that look.
The bright blue that used to be filled with determination now reflected pure terror.
Vi was crying.
Vi was afraid.
Her sister. Her little girl whom she had failed to protect. Who had sacrificed everything to save her.
That was the last image Power would have of Vi for a long time. Her eyes wet, her face desperate, her lips trembling as she tried to say something she never heard. Powder screamed her name again, voice breaking, but the guards were faster. A strong arm grabbed her by the waist and lifted her into the air as if she were nothing more than a helpless child.
She shouted and kicked, tore the guard's uniform with her nails until he bled.
It didn't matter.
The man threw her down hard, sending her crashing onto the cold tiles of the living room. The blow knocked the wind out of her. But she tried to get up anyway. She had to reach her. She had to get to Vi. But when she looked up again…
Vi was no longer there.
The courtroom doors slammed shut.
Vi was gone.
And Powder was left on the floor, her hands empty, the echo of her own cries resonating in the vast room, realizing over time that this was the last time her sister saw her before losing everything. She cried helplessly as people left the room one by one, looking away, some with guilt, others with indifference. She cried in pain and despair as Vander wrapped her in his arms, whispering promises that she didn't know if they could ever keep.
/////
The silence that remained after the recounting of the events was different, a silence born of sadness and the horrors of the past. In the incomprehensible suffering of someone who lost everything because of a mistake born of childish love and the cruelty of a single person with too much power in her hands.
Both Caitlyn and Powder were crying in their respective spots for different reasons, the coffee cold and abandoned in front of them.
Tears ran down Powder's face in a silent cry, her gaze fixed on her hands, immersed in her memories, with a vulnerable and hurt expression, broken by the pain she had kept inside her for years.
Caitlyn tried in vain to dry her own tears of heartfelt rage and inherited guilt, taking a breath to try to clear her thoughts. But it was almost impossible. She felt empty, sick, disgusted by the cruelty that her own grandmother, her blood, had shown years ago. Caitlyn knew that her family had been responsible in the past for carrying authority and promoting certain inequalities of which she was not particularly proud. But she could never have imagined the horrors of what the Kirammans had been responsible, the indelible mark it had left not only on the sisters but on hundreds of people before and after them.
Nausea assailed her and she had to make a terrible effort to contain it.
She had so much to ask, and yet so little to say. A huge lump blocked her throat, preventing her from formulating coherent words.
There was no further need to say anything, however, as Powder stood up, approaching the sink with firm steps. She turned the faucet on full blast, allowing the water to fall hard on her hands before she washed her face firmly. Caitlyn watched as she leaned on the edges of the sink, her knuckles white from the force she exerted to hold herself in place as the water dripped down her face.
“We fought for months to get her released. The initial sentence was for five years. Five years for a couple of small vials that no one in Piltover really needed.” Powder paused, closing her eyes as if the words weighed on her. “When they finally did it, it wasn’t because they had compassion or because they had suddenly regained consciousness and empathy. They did it because Vi had almost died in that prison, and they couldn’t allow that kind of… scandal. Imagine the horror, the stain on the image of your beloved family and their brainless followers if a Zaunite child died in Stillwater. It didn’t matter if she spent the rest of her days rotting inside that place, it was only truly relevant if it affected them negatively.”
Caitlyn felt her clothes suffocating her more and more with each word that fell from Powder's lips.
“One day a letter arrived with your family’s seal on it, signed by her, approving Vi’s release and indicating where we should pick her up. But what they gave us was nothing more than a broken, barely alive doll. The shadow of what my sister once was.” Powder seemed to break down again there, fresh tears sliding down her cheeks. “I thought I was going to really lose her right then and there… after everything that happened, when I finally got her back, it was because she could barely breathe.”
Powder let out a sigh, the anguish on her face becoming even more palpable.
“Vi spent weeks in the hospital here in Zaun, recovering. We weren’t allowed to take her to Piltover, even if we had the resources or connections to do so – no one in Zaun had the right to be treated there at the time. Again, your grandmother had made sure of that, punishment for the riots and rebellion of that time.” Her voice was shaking now, and Caitlyn could see the pain Powder had been hiding for so long spilling out in every word. “Vi’s injuries were so severe that the doctors warned us she might not survive. Every day, they told us she was getting worse, that they didn’t know if she was going to get out of that bed…”
Caitlyn closed her eyes, dropping her head into her hands. She couldn't look Powder in the face anymore, because what she saw in her was devastating.
“Powder… please…”
“You wanted the truth…” she exclaimed, no real malice, just resignation. “Well, there you have it. I can never forget that, what your family did to us. What they did to Vi… Never.”
Caitlyn swallowed, feeling her chest burn. She wanted to say something. Anything.
But what could she say?
There were no words that could fix the past. There was no apology enough to erase what the Kirammans had done to Vi.
And yet, Caitlyn felt she had to try.
“I’m sorry,” Caitlyn whispered, her voice cracking. “I don’t know what else to say, but… I’m so, so sorry.”
Powder slowly turned her face towards Caitlyn, her expression exhausted. Not angry. Not hurtful. Just… empty.
“It’s not your fault, but your grandma’s. You are a Kiramman, yes, but… It’s not your fault. I can understand some of that now,” Powder said, her tone not entirely bitter, but not kind either. “However, that doesn’t change what happened.”
You are a Kiramman.
Those words hit harder than any insult.
Caitlyn felt a chill run down her spine.
Because Powder was right. As much as Caitlyn tried to be different, as much as she herself repudiated her family's choices... That last name still tied her to all the pain Powder and Vi had suffered. To the injustice spread. To the blood spilled. And maybe Powder would never be able to see beyond that.
Caitlyn couldn't blame her for that.
There was an awkward pause between them. A long, painful one.
Caitlyn felt her chest tighten. But when she looked up once more, what she saw in Powder surprised her. There was no anger. There was no hatred.
Just exhaustion.
Powder ran a shaky hand through her hair and sighed, as if she were giving up some of the weight she had carried for so long.
“You didn’t know,” she admitted quietly, both to Caitlyn and to herself.
Caitlyn nodded slowly. She didn't know, but now that she had the knowledge in her hands, she felt like she would never be the same again. Caitlyn rubbed her eyes hard, trying to dispel the sting of her tears. But deep down, she knew that no amount of tears could erase reality.
Vi had suffered more than she ever imagined.
Powder had been burdened with an impossible pain.
And Caitlyn, a Kiramman, carried the blood of those who had allowed it.
But she couldn't stay quiet with the guilt.
“I don’t know how to fix this,” Caitlyn said, her tone a mix of determination and vulnerability. “But I want to try. I want to make things right.”
Powder didn't respond, but Caitlyn noticed her shoulders relax slightly, as if she was finally willing to give her a chance.
“I don’t think you can. No one really can make a difference,” Powder replied.
“I don’t know how, but I will do something about it,” Caitlyn insisted.
Powder stared at her, eyes narrowed, studying her. And for the first time in a long time, she didn't look away. She didn't reject her immediately.
Because maybe, deep down…
Part of her wanted to believe Caitlyn.
Caitlyn held her gaze with the same intensity. There was so much she still didn't understand. She knew the truth, but there were still so many questions left to answer.
But the most important one was the one she couldn't ignore.
“Why didn’t you tell her? Why all the secrets?”
Powder's face twisted in an involuntary grimace. It wasn't a violent reaction. It wasn't anger or rage.
It was something much more visceral.
Fear.
“Vi never really asked until now”
Caitlyn frowned.
“I find that a little hard to believe”
Powder closed her eyes for a moment, as if trying to contain a surge of emotions before speaking. When she opened them again, her gaze was different.
More tired. More… resigned.
“At first, yes. After she woke up the first time there was a period of confusion, the trauma in her head was so severe that many things were unclear to her back then. She tried to remember. She was asking about what happened, trying to put together loose pieces in her head…” Caitlyn swallowed as she listened. She could imagine Vi, in the aftermath of what had been done to her, searching for answers and finding none. “But every time she tried to remember, it was terrible.”
Powder looked down at her own hands. Caitlyn watched as her fingers clenched on the wood of the table.
“The memories tore her apart.”
Caitlyn felt her stomach tighten.
"How…?"
Powder laughed humorlessly, but her voice was flat. “Panic attacks. The kind you couldn’t even begin to imagine. Days without being able to sleep because the nightmares were too real. Indescribable physical pain, memories that came in bursts and left her shaking, unable to breathe. Seeing demons where there had been none before.”
“Post-traumatic stress?” Caitlyn asked.
Powder nodded slowly.
“That’s just a fancy way of saying that she was screwed so badly she could barely function.”
Caitlyn dropped her head into her hands, feeling her skin prickle.
Vi hadn't mentioned that to her. She never gave any indication of how much the past still haunted her.
But if Caitlyn thought about it carefully, a lot of things made sense.
The nights when Vi would stay silent for too long as they walked. The times when she would veer off topic when they talked about her childhood. The brief moments when she seemed to be somewhere else entirely.
Vi didn't remember everything because her mind blocked it out to protect herself.
Because every time she tried to open that door, all what she found was hell on the other side.
Powder rubbed her eyes vigorously, as if trying to rid her body of fatigue.
“I was there every time it happened. I witnessed every crisis… one worse than the last, stayed awake with her each night” she said quietly. “So, over time, I stopped answering her questions…”
The confession floated between them.
Powder raised her head and looked directly at Caitlyn. There was no guilt on her face, no regret.
Just determination.
“I couldn’t put her through that again. It was better to hide the true than deal with the pain”
Caitlyn opened her mouth, but she had no words.
Because deep down, she understood. Powder wanted to protect Vi from her own mind, from her past. Maybe the way she went about it was questionable, but Caitlyn couldn't say she was wrong in her intention.
Caitlyn looked away, feeling a pressure in her chest that took her breath away. She didn't know what to think. She wanted to believe that Vi had a right to know the truth, no matter what. But if the truth destroyed her, was it worth it?
The question hung in her mind, unanswered for the moment.
Powder stood up suddenly, her gaze fixed on Vi's room with sharp focus, surprising Caitlyn. Without another word, she crossed the apartment in long strides, disappearing through the door.
Caitlyn followed her, leaving her coffee cold and forgotten on the table.
When they reached the room, Vi was trying to sit up, wobbly and confused.
Powder was the first to react.
“Hey, easy there.”
Powder sat on the edge of the bed, placing her hands firmly on Vi's shoulders to prevent her from trying to get up.
Caitlyn stood in the doorway, watching silently.
But this time, she saw things differently. Before, when she saw Powder being overprotective with Vi, she considered it a barrier, an obstacle between them. A complete exaggeration or her role.
But now… now she understood that it was much more than that.
Vi shifted awkwardly, trying to sit up. Her brows were furrowed in confusion, her skin still pale from discomfort. Caitlyn noticed the way her hands were fumbling around in the sheets, her breathing quickening, as if her body was trying to find its way around the space.
But before she could falter too far, Powder was already there.
She was always there.
Her hands gripped Vi's arms firmly, holding her with unwavering determination.
“Not so fast, sis,” she murmured in a low and careful tone.
The way she said it… Caitlyn felt like it was a plea.
Vi seemed to recognize her sister's voice instantly, and her muscles, instinctively tense, relaxed slightly.
“Pow?”
Vi's voice was hoarse from sleep, disoriented. Her tone reflected a vulnerability she rarely let on.
“Yeah… you give fancy pants and me a big scare early, dummy” Powder said, smiling a little.
Vi laughed, still confused allowing herself to lean her body on her sister’s waiting arms.
Caitlyn watched silently, for the first time truly understanding everything.
Vi was strong. Stubborn, resilient, a person who had learned to steel herself against the world and strike back. But here, in this moment…
Here Vi wasn't a fighter, she wasn't the girl with the carefree smile who pretended everything was okay. Here, Vi was just a little sister who, even without being able to see, knew that Powder would always be there to hold her up when her body failed. That she was counting on that no matter that.
Caitlyn felt her chest tighten.
Because now she understood.
Whenever Vi broke down, Powder was the one to pick her up.
Whenever Vi suffered from nightmares, Powder was the one who calmed her down.
Whenever Vi got sick, Powder was the one who stayed by her side to clean the mess after the worse has happened.
And every time Vi tried to remember what Stillwater did to her, Powder was the one who kept her from breaking apart.
And now?
Now Caitlyn knew the truth.
She knew that the name she carried on her back was the same one that had condemned Vi to all this. She knew that her family had marked Vi's life in an irreversible way. She knew that, at some point, Vi would have the right to know.
But she also knew what that could cost her.
Could Vi handle it? Could she face the past without it destroying her once again?
And if she couldn't… was Caitlyn willing to be the person who pushed her into that pain?
The answer was not simple.
It wasn't just a “yes” or a “no.”
But in that moment, as she watched Powder hold her sister with more love than she had ever seen in anyone, she could only think of one thing.
Maybe Powder wasn't entirely wrong.
Maybe some truths didn't need to be told.
At least, not yet.
Caitlyn stood in the doorway, the weight of the secret pressing down on her chest. Not moving, not speaking.
Because now, she was part of it.
And what she does with that truth could change everything.