Bonds Forged in Ruin
The sound of distant explosions echoed across Kalstead, sending tremors through the ground as buildings crumbled, their skeletal remains collapsing into dust. Thick plumes of smoke billowed into the sky, casting a grim pall over the city. The chaos, however, was momentarily subdued by the timely warning from the revolutionaries. The alert, broadcasted to the people, allowed the majority of the civilians to escape before the worst of the destruction struck.
Despite the warnings, the town square remained a perilous zone. Elderly citizens and children, too slow to escape or too terrified to move, remained trapped at the heart of the disaster. Fallen columns, shattered stone, and broken beams pinned them beneath the rubble, their cries faint against the backdrop of collapse.
The fierce battle between Demacian soldiers, the revolutionaries, and the mercenaries had ground to a halt. No one had the time to continue fighting when survival had become the only priority. The focus shifted quickly from combat to rescue efforts, as both soldiers and revolutionaries joined forces with the civilians to tend to the wounded and free those trapped beneath the debris.
Vi, Caitlyn, and Kara were quick to spring into action, their training and instincts honed by years of fighting on the front lines. Vi used her powerful gauntlets to smash through large chunks of stone and rubble, her strength making quick work of the obstacles. Caitlyn, with her keen eye and precision, used her hex-powered rifle to provide cover and pinpoint targets for others to clear, ensuring that unstable rubble wouldn’t cause further harm. She carefully aimed at precarious structures, shooting to stabilize them or dislodge smaller, dangerous pieces of debris. Her sharp tactical awareness allowed her to guide Vi and Kara to areas where their efforts would be most effective.
In that chaos, the mercenaries and the converted Demacian soldiers began to retreat, slipping away under the cover of destruction. Mireya, at the head of the fleeing group, cast a sharp glance over her shoulder, her expression a mixture of frustration and calculated resolve.
Caitlyn spotted her through the smoke, the unmistakable red of Mireya’s braid standing out amid the gray haze. Her hands tightened around her hex-powered rifle, and in a single, fluid motion, she raised it, the crosshairs lining up with Mireya’s figure.
For a moment, time seemed to slow. Mireya froze, her sharp eyes locking with Caitlyn’s. Across the distance, they stared at one another—one calculating her escape, the other weighing her options.
Kara, standing beside Caitlyn, saw the hesitation. “You’ve got her,” Kara murmured, her voice steady but urgent.
But before Caitlyn could pull the trigger, a desperate scream pierced through the air. Caitlyn’s sharp gaze flicked to the side, spotting a young boy pinned beneath a beam, struggling as dust and rubble threatened to overwhelm him.
She sighed, lowering her rifle with a tight grip of frustration. The smirk on Mireya’s face was immediate and infuriating. The mercenary leader tilted her head slightly in mocking acknowledgment before turning and disappearing into the smoke, her forces vanishing with her.
Kara’s jaw tightened, her sharp eyes fixed on Mireya’s retreating figure. Without a word, she started forward, determination etched into every step.
“Kara!” Quinn’s voice called out, sharp and commanding. Kara turned her head slightly, her eyes meeting Quinn’s from across the rubble-strewn square. Though battered and dusty, Quinn stood tall, blood seeping from a shallow cut on her temple.
“Don’t do this!” Quinn shouted, her voice resolute, yet tinged with urgency. “Not alone. It’s not worth it!”
For a moment, Kara hesitated, her fists clenching at her sides. Her gaze flickered between Mireya’s fading silhouette and Quinn’s steady, pleading expression. The words hung heavy in the air, the chaos around them a distant hum compared to the choice before her.
“Someone has to stop her,” Kara said, her voice low but fierce. “I won’t let her get away with this.”
“Kara, we’ll deal with her together,” Quinn countered, stepping closer. “But not now. We need you here.”
But Kara didn’t wait to hear more. “I’ll handle it,” she said, her voice cold with resolve. Without another glance back, she darted into the smoke, disappearing in the same direction Mireya had gone.
Quinn cursed under her breath, her hands balling into fists as she watched Kara vanish. “Damn it, Kara…” she muttered, frustration and worry mixing on her face.
Meanwhile, on the outskirts of Kalstead, near the forested entrance to the city, Powder, Ekko, and Warwick emerged from the treeline. The scene that greeted them was one of devastation. Smoke rose in thick columns, and the distant sound of crumbling buildings and faint cries for help echoed through the air.
Powder’s eyes widened in horror as she took in the destruction. “This… this is worse than I imagined,” she murmured, her voice trembling.
Ekko stepped forward, his expression grim but focused as he surveyed the wreckage. “We don’t have time to stop and stare,” he said firmly. “There are people out there who need help. We’ll start here and work our way deeper into the city.”
Warwick growled low, his glowing eyes scanning the rubble ahead. Without a word, he began clearing a path, his powerful claws tearing through fallen beams and debris with ease.
Powder nodded, determination flashing in her eyes. “We can’t let them suffer like this. Let’s find whoever we can.”
The three quickly got to work. Though far from the town square, they encountered civilians trapped in the outskirts—people who hadn’t managed to flee in time or who were trying to find loved ones. Powder’s nimble hands worked tirelessly to pull away smaller debris, her voice steady and comforting as she reassured the frightened survivors.
Ekko took charge of organizing a small group of uninjured civilians they encountered, urging them to help with the rescue efforts. “We can do this together,” he said to a woman struggling to lift a beam off her injured husband. With Ekko’s help, they freed the man, and the small group began assisting others nearby.
The cries for help guided their steps as they pressed deeper into the city. Though they were still far from the town square, they knew that even on the outskirts, their efforts could save lives. For Powder and Ekko, every person they pulled from the rubble was a reminder of why they had come—and why they couldn’t stop now.
As Powder and Ekko moved deeper into the city, the devastation around them seemed endless. Every corner revealed more rubble, more cries for help. Powder’s heart ached with every step, her hands trembling as she pulled debris away from yet another trapped civilian.
“Powder, over here!” Ekko called, motioning toward a collapsed shop where faint voices could be heard.
But before she could respond, a piercing cry echoed through the air—a child’s cry, sharp and terrified. Powder froze, her head snapping toward the sound. Through the smoke and dust, she spotted a girl no older than five or six, standing motionless beneath a massive stone pillar. The cracks spreading across the pillar’s base told her it wouldn’t hold much longer.
Powder’s breath hitched, her eyes widening in panic. “No… no, no, no,” she whispered, fear and desperation gripping her chest.
Powder’s eyes glimmered with the telltale hue of shimmer, the power coursing through her veins. Her body surged with unnatural speed and precision as she dashed toward the child, the world around her blurring into a haze.
“Hold on!” she shouted, her voice trembling.
But just as she was about to reach the girl, another pillar collapsed in front of her, the heavy stone crashing down with a deafening roar. Dust erupted into the air, blinding her and forcing her to skid to a halt. Powder coughed, her eyes stinging as she waved away the thick smoke.
And then—through the dust, just for a moment—Powder saw it. A faint blue glimmer, barely visible, cutting through the haze. Her heart skipped a beat, the familiar color catching her off guard. Her mind scrambled, but she couldn’t process it fully in the chaos.
And then, the column above the child came crashing down, its massive weight tearing through the air. The ground shook violently, sending debris flying as the dust exploded into the sky, enveloping everything in a thick cloud of confusion.
For a heartbeat, everything was swallowed by the chaos. The cries of the child cut through the storm, still desperate, still clear—faint, but unmistakable.
She’s still alive!
Powder’s heart raced as she scrambled to see through the haze, but it was thick, blinding. She couldn’t move fast enough. Her breath hitched, and she fought to hold onto hope. The dust lingered, suffocating, like it was mocking her. Then, just as the dust began to settle, a form emerged through the smoke—two large, familiar gauntlets, barely visible at first but growing clearer with each passing second.
Vi’s gauntlets.
Powder’s pulse spiked. Her chest tightened, and her knees almost gave out beneath her. She couldn’t believe her eyes.
Vi. Vi was here.
The haze thinned further, and there she was—Vi, crouched low, her gauntlets glowing faintly as she carefully placed the child on the ground. Powder’s breath caught in her throat. Vi’s presence was both a shock and a relief, her movements steady as she murmured something soft to calm the terrified girl.
Vi looked up, her gaze scanning the area as her breath hitched. But then—their eyes met.
For an instant, the world around them faded away. The dust, the screams, the crumbling buildings—all vanished in the weight of the moment. It was just her. Powder. After everything, after so much time, so much distance, there she was—alive. Vi’s heart raced, her breath catching in her throat. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. A flood of emotions crashed over her all at once.
The pain of the years lost, the anger, the guilt—all melted away as she simply stared at her sister.
Then, a sudden, deafening sound snapped them both back to reality.
A rumbling, like the earth itself groaning. Powder’s heart leapt into her throat as she turned her gaze upward, her eyes locking onto the towering structure above Vi and the child.
The building was collapsing.
Stone and debris, heavy and merciless, tumbled down like a tidal wave of destruction, aiming straight for Vi.
“No!” Powder’s voice was raw with terror as she reached out with everything she had. She had shimmer coursing through her, her body moving faster than it ever had, but it wasn’t enough. She wasn’t fast enough.
Vi’s eyes snapped upward as she realized the danger. Her reflex kicked in. She shielded the child with her own body.
The dust thickened as the building came crashing down. Powder’s breath caught in her chest as the world seemed to slow. She could only watch in horror, helpless, as everything around them seemed to be swallowed by the massive weight of destruction.
“No… no, no, no!” The word barely escaped her lips, but it was too late.
The building crashed.
Powder’s hands shook uncontrollably as she rushed and scrambled at the debris, her heart hammering in her chest. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think—only one thought filled her mind. Vi. The child. The building. It was too much.
“No... no, no!” Powder screamed, her voice cracking, raw with anguish. Tears flooded her eyes as the rubble before her seemed to taunt her with its weight, trapping the very people she had been too late to save. She clawed at the stone, her fingers bleeding from the effort, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t clear the mass of rubble fast enough.
Everything felt like it was slipping through her hands. She couldn’t lose them.
Her sobs echoed in the cold air as the weight of her failure crushed her. But she wasn’t alone for long.
Ekko and the others arrived—silent, understanding. They didn’t need to ask. They simply fell in beside her. Their hands joined hers, working together in a quiet storm of urgency.
Minutes stretched into what felt like hours as they dug. The pain of it—the panic, the uncertainty—made every second feel heavier than the last.
But then, something shifted. A faint outline, something that felt out of place in the wreckage. Warwick’s arm.
Powder’s breath caught in her throat. How? How had he gotten here? What had happened? She didn’t even have time to question it before she and Ekko surged forward, removing the debris with frantic urgency.
They cleared more. They pushed harder. The rubble shifted, revealing a body—and then, a revelation hit them all at once.
Piece by piece, Warwick’s hulking frame came into view. He was crouched low, his massive arms curled protectively around two figures. Powder’s heart leapt as she heard a faint cry—the child’s voice, alive. She clawed at the remaining rubble with renewed vigor until finally, the dust cleared enough to reveal them.
Warwick shifted, his fur dusted with ash, letting out a low, guttural growl—not of aggression, but of relief.
Warwick lowered his arms slowly, revealing Vi and the child nestled beneath his protective frame. The child clung to Vi’s neck, her tiny body shaking with sobs, while Vi’s wide, tear-brimmed eyes darted through the haze. And then, they saw Powder.
For a moment, time held its breath.
Powder froze, her chest rising and falling in uneven gasps as her vision blurred with tears. The world around her dissolved—the ruins, the dust, the faint cries in the distance. All she could see was her sister, alive and here, standing right in front of her.
Vi’s expression softened, her lips parting in a trembling gasp as she took in the sight of Powder. Dirt-smudged, teary-eyed, and yet so painfully familiar. “Powder…” she whispered, her voice breaking like a fragile thread.
Vi gently set the child down, her movements slow and deliberate, as if afraid this moment might shatter. She stepped forward, her steps unsteady, her gaze locked on Powder.
Powder couldn’t wait. Her legs moved before her mind could catch up, stumbling forward as a choked sob tore from her throat. She closed the distance between them and threw her arms around Vi, clutching her sister with every ounce of strength she had left.
Vi’s gauntlets fell to the ground with a heavy, resonant thud. Her arms wrapped around Powder, pulling her close, and in that instant, both sisters broke. The sobs they’d held back from a long time finally poured out, raw and unrestrained.
Vi’s tears streaked down her face as she held her sister even tighter. “I thought I’d lost you,” she whispered, her voice cracked and full of anguish. “I’m so sorry, Powder.” Her words dissolved into quiet sobs, her head resting against Powder’s.
A deep, rumbling growl came from Warwick. It wasn’t one of warning but one of quiet reassurance, a low vibration that seemed to ground the moment. Slowly, the hulking beast lowered himself, wrapping his massive arms around the two sisters, pulling them into a protective embrace.
Powder leaned into the warmth of his fur, her tears soaking into the coarse strands. Her trembling subsided as Warwick’s presence anchored her, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she felt at home.