Chapter 6
The sun hung low in the sky as you followed Vi down the dimly lit alleyway, the air thick with the heavy hum of Zaun's underbelly. There was a stark contrast between where you had come from and where you were now. Piltover, with its gleaming spires, marble-lined streets, and pristine towers, felt like a distant memory compared to this—this gritty, vibrant, and sometimes chaotic part of the city. Your mind buzzed with uncertainty, yet curiosity overpowered it. This was the other side of Piltover—the one that Vi had called home.
Vi had a way of moving through the world, walking with purpose, like she owned every inch of the cracked pavement beneath her feet. She was muscular, her body a product of a life shaped by hardship and resilience, her fair skin weathered by the elements, tattoos etched down her arms and across her back, as though each one told a story. Her cropped pink hair caught the light as she moved, but it was her eyes—fierce, unyielding—that held you. There was something magnetic about her, something raw, something real.
"Stick close," Vi's voice broke through your thoughts, snapping you back to reality. Her tone was blunt, yet there was a hint of protectiveness that made you nod without thinking twice. "This place might look like it's all fun and games, but not everyone's friendly."
You hadn't realized it at first, but you were standing on the edge of Zaun, a labyrinth of narrow streets lined with rundown buildings, rusted machinery, and faintly glowing signs in a variety of languages you couldn't understand. There was a certain electricity in the air—a constant buzz from the city's inner workings—and it made you feel small, out of place, and just a little bit alive in a way Piltover's polished streets never did.
"Where are we going?" you asked, though the answer was clear from the way Vi led the way, her presence commanding attention even in the most chaotic of places.
"Thought I'd show you the real Zaun. Not the stuff they hide behind their shiny windows in Piltover. You wanted to see the 'rough parts,' right?" She threw you a teasing glance over her shoulder, but there was no malice in her voice. Instead, it was like a challenge, something in her words daring you to see what she saw.
You hadn't quite expected this—to step into the underworld of the city Vi called home—but there was no turning back now. The adventure had begun.
As you followed Vi deeper into the labyrinth of winding streets, your senses were assaulted with a new world entirely. The smell of burning oil mixed with the pungent scent of rust. Sparks flew from open windows as metal was welded into shape, and the sound of grinding machines became the soundtrack to the street. People moved quickly, many of them working, others just passing through, all with the same sense of urgency in their steps. But despite the seeming chaos, there was a rhythm to it all. A pulse.
"That's the old refinery," Vi said, gesturing toward a massive structure looming in the distance, its smokestacks reaching toward the sky like iron fingers. "It used to be the heart of Zaun, where we got most of our energy. But it's been a long time since it really worked properly. Now, it's just a relic. But it's ours."
You followed her gaze, taking in the view of the refinery. The towering structure was a contrast of rusted metal, broken windows, and forgotten pieces of machinery scattered in its shadow. And yet, there was something beautiful about it. Something raw. This was a part of the city that had been neglected, forgotten even, but it had a life of its own.
"Did you grow up here?" you asked, curious about Vi's connection to the place, to the people, and to everything that surrounded you.
Vi didn't answer right away. She kept walking, a steady pace that seemed almost automatic. It was clear that she was comfortable in this environment, her body attuned to the ebb and flow of Zaun's undercurrent. But after a few moments, she sighed, her voice quieter than before.
"Yeah," she said simply. "I did."
You could tell that she wasn't quite done speaking, that there was more beneath the surface of her words. Vi wasn't the type to open up easily, but you had learned that much about her already. Her walls were high and sturdy, built over years of hardship and tough lessons, but there was something in her eyes now—something that hinted at the vulnerability she kept hidden.
"I was just a kid back then," Vi continued, her voice tinged with something you couldn't quite place. "My dad was a mechanic, too, though not like me. He worked for some rich folks up in Piltover, fixing their toys. And my brother, Mylo... well, he wasn't the best influence. But we made do. Zaun wasn't kind to us, but we survived. We didn't have much, but we had each other. That's all you really need, right?"
There was an honesty in her words, a truth that you hadn't expected. Vi's life hadn't been easy, but she carried that weight with pride. She wasn't ashamed of where she came from. If anything, she seemed to wear it like a badge of honor—her resilience a reflection of the city she had grown up in.
You couldn't help but admire her more in that moment. It was clear that Vi was made of something tough, something that couldn't be broken by the harshness of her surroundings. But as she spoke about her family, there was a quiet sadness in her voice. She wasn't just a mechanic. She was someone who had fought for everything she had, someone who had watched her family struggle just to make it through another day.
"So, what about you?" Vi asked, turning the question back on you. "You don't exactly look like you're from around here."
You hesitated, unsure how to explain the divide between your life and hers. "I... grew up in Piltover. My family's well-off. We don't have to worry about things like bills or food, you know? We have everything we need." You paused, unsure of how to continue. "I never really understood why people lived like this. I didn't know what it was like until now."
Vi raised an eyebrow, glancing at you. "Guess we're from different worlds, huh?"
You nodded, but there was no judgment in her voice—just a simple observation. She wasn't asking you to justify where you came from, but there was a quiet understanding that you weren't the same, that you hadn't lived the same life. And for the first time, you understood why Vi was the way she was.
"This city's tough," she said after a long pause. "But it teaches you how to be tougher. You learn how to survive, how to make it. You don't have time to sit around and wait for someone else to do it for you. You either sink or swim."
There was a roughness to her words, but beneath it, there was a certain beauty. Vi had learned to survive, not by choice, but by necessity. The resilience she carried wasn't just physical; it was emotional, mental. She had been forged in the fire of Zaun's harsh reality, and that strength was something that set her apart from everyone else.
You continued walking beside her, listening as she pointed out different spots around the city, explaining their significance with a level of care and pride that surprised you. You passed by the old workshop where Vi had first learned the trade, the alley where she and her friends used to play when they were kids, and the backstreets where they had scraped together a life.
Despite the tough exterior she showed to the world, there was a depth to Vi—a quiet strength that spoke volumes about the person she had become. She wasn't just a mechanic, and she wasn't just a product of her environment. She was a survivor, a fighter, and someone who had never given up on herself or the people she loved.
By the time you reached the end of the tour, the sun had set, leaving the sky painted with hues of purple and orange. The city around you had taken on a different tone—a mixture of life, grit, and something far more alive than the clean streets of Piltover ever could be.
Vi had shown you the heart of Zaun—its soul. And in doing so, she had revealed more about herself than you could have ever imagined. You didn't just see the city anymore; you saw her, too. And you couldn't deny it—the deeper you got, the more you understood. She wasn't just a mechanic. She was a woman forged from the struggle and strength of her surroundings. A woman who had never given up, and a woman who never would.
"You okay?" Vi asked, turning to you with a knowing look.
You smiled, a soft, genuine smile that you hadn't expected to form so easily. "Yeah. I'm more than okay."