Chapter 5
The metallic jingle of keys echoed through the dim corridor, breaking the heavy silence of the early morning. Ivy stirred, groaning as she turned over on the cot, shielding her eyes from the faint light filtering through the small, high window. She heard the familiar clack, clack of a baton rapping against the bars of her cell and sighed deeply, already irritated.
"Rise and shine, sweetheart," the warden sneered, his voice grating and smug as he smacked his baton against the bars once more. "Time to start your day."
"Don't you ever take a day off?" Ivy muttered, sitting up slowly, her messy hair falling into her face. She rubbed the back of her neck, glaring at him through bleary eyes.
The warden smirked, his teeth flashing. "Not when I've got entertainment like you around."
Before Ivy could fire back a retort, another figure stepped forward from behind him, composed and striking in her pristine uniform. Caitlyn Kiramman. Her cool, professional demeanor was a sharp contrast to the warden's brutish arrogance. She held out her hand, her voice firm but calm.
"The keys."
The warden hesitated, his face twitching with resentment as he glanced back at Ivy, then at Caitlyn. "You sure about this? She's a handful. They both are, especially that one" He points over at Vi.
"I'll manage," Caitlyn replied evenly, her piercing gaze brooking no argument.
Grumbling under his breath, the warden handed over the keys and stomped off, muttering something inaudible as he disappeared down the hallway. Caitlyn turned her attention to Ivy, her face unreadable as she unlocked the cell door with a precise twist of the key.
The heavy door creaked open, and Caitlyn stepped aside, giving Ivy a small nod. "You're up. Let's get moving."
Ivy stayed seated for a moment, her expression skeptical. "You're not gonna give me some motivational speech? Tell me to play nice and follow orders?"
Caitlyn raised an eyebrow. "Would it work?"
Ivy snorted softly, shaking her head as she stood.
"Didn't think so." Caitlyn said.
Without another word, Caitlyn moved down the hall to the next cell, her movements precise and deliberate. She unlocked Vi's door with the same quiet efficiency, stepping back as the pink-haired brawler emerged, stretching and cracking her knuckles.
"Morning, Cupcake," Vi greeted Caitlyn with a sly grin, her tone teasing. "Didn't think you'd be playing Warden today."
Caitlyn ignored the nickname, her tone clipped but not unkind. "It's time. Let's not waste it."
Vi's grin widened as she glanced at Ivy, who was lingering near the doorway of her cell, arms crossed. "So this is how you look" She studied Ivy's appearance. "Nice hair, but not as nice as mine." She smirked.
"Yeah right." Ivy dropped her hand, casting a sidelong glance at Vi. It was the first time she'd really gotten a good look at her. Vi carried herself with an effortless confidence, her muscular frame imposing yet fluid. The tattoos on her arms stood out sharply against her pale skin, hints of her rough-and-tumble past etched into her like a story she wore proudly. Her pink hair was messy but intentional, a deliberate kind of chaos that matched the cocky smirk she so often wore.
"You staring for a reason, or do I got something on my face?" Vi asked, raising an eyebrow as she caught Ivy's gaze. Her tone was playful, but there was curiosity there too.
"Just observing who I'm stuck with for however long she's got us working for her." She gestures over at Caitlyn who was walking in front of them.
"I guess me too." she shrugged.
They made their way down the corridor, the weight of the morning settled in. The stakes were high, and the air between them was thick with unease. Caitlyn walked ahead, her posture straight and unwavering, while Vi stayed close to Ivy, glancing at her with an almost protective air.
For better or worse, the deal had been made—and the first step toward something much bigger had just begun.
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As the trio emerged from the grim, cold corridors of the prison into the open air of Piltover, Ivy's steps slowed for a moment, her senses overwhelmed. The sunlight struck her face, warm and golden, so bright it made her squint. She raised a hand to shield her eyes, letting the crisp, clean air fill her lungs. For the first time in years, she wasn't surrounded by stone walls and the stench of confinement.
Ivy couldn't help but pause, turning her face toward the sky. Her sharp green eyes darted to the towering spires of Piltover, glinting in the sunlight. It was a strange, bittersweet sensation—freedom within limits. She inhaled deeply, savoring the feeling, even if she didn't fully trust it yet. As they moved through Piltover, the sunlight gleaming on polished metal and glass, Ivy's steps faltered every so often. Her eyes lingered on the neat streets and clean air, her senses overwhelmed by the sharp contrast to the dank confines of her cell.
Vi noticed her hesitation but didn't comment, falling into step beside her instead. Caitlyn led the way, her sharp gaze scanning the streets as she navigated toward the pathways that would lead them to Zaun.
Ivy glanced toward the horizon, where the clean lines of Piltover's skyline gave way to the jagged edges of the undercity below. The air grew denser, heavier, the shadows longer as they approached.
"You miss it, don't you?" Vi asked quietly, her voice low enough that Caitlyn wouldn't hear.
Ivy didn't look at her, her jaw tightening. "What, this?" she said, gesturing vaguely at the city around them. "Fresh air, sunlight, and fake smiles? Yeah, it's a dream."
Vi didn't respond right away, her eyes studying Ivy's expression. "Not this," she said after a moment. "Out there." She nodded toward the descending pathways that led to Zaun.
Ivy's lips pressed into a thin line, her gaze hardening. "You sure like to act like you know so much about me."
Vi shrugged, her hands in her pockets. "Fair enough. But I've been where you are—feeling like the world's stacked against you, like you've got no one to trust." She glanced sideways at Ivy. "I'm just saying, it doesn't have to stay that way. It could be nice to have a friend if we're stuck together." She nudged Ivy's shoulder. "Plus you didn't have to bargain letting me free, unless you really wanted to."
Ivy sighed "Okay fair enough."
They fell into silence as they crossed into the darker shadows of Piltover's edge, where the glittering surface gave way to the tangled, chaotic sprawl of the undercity. Ivy didn't know what awaited her down there—but for the first time in a long while, she felt the faintest flicker of something like possibility. Or maybe just hope.
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The undercity was a stark contrast to the pristine streets of Piltover. The air was thick, damp, and tinged with the acrid smell of chemicals. The labyrinthine alleys were dimly lit by flickering neon signs, casting fractured light on the cracked walls and wet cobblestones. Ivy's shoulders relaxed slightly, the chaos and grit of Zaun familiar and oddly comforting, even if she wasn't thrilled about being back.
Vi stopped short at the entrance to a narrow alley, her sharp eyes locking onto a small group of crooks loitering nearby. They were talking in hushed tones, clearly up to no good, their rough clothing making them blend into the undercity's shadows. Perfect.
Vi grinned, cracking her knuckles. "Wait here."
Ivy crossed her arms, leaning casually against the wall, while Caitlyn stood a little further back, looking distinctly uncomfortable.
"What's she doing?" Caitlyn asked, glancing at Ivy.
"Being Vi," Ivy replied with a shrug, her lips twitching in a faint smirk. "Relax, princess. She's got this."
Caitlyn opened her mouth to retort, but before she could, Vi moved in.
With her usual blend of confidence and chaos, Vi strode straight into the group, cracking a joke loud enough to make one of them laugh before she sucker-punched another in the gut. The others barely had time to react before she had disarmed them of their knives and pushed them up against the wall, grinning the whole time.
"Thanks for the wardrobe donation," Vi quipped, pulling off one of the crooks' jackets. The others stammered in protest but didn't dare fight back as she grabbed a few more pieces of clothing and tossed them over her shoulder.
By the time she returned to Ivy and Caitlyn, Vi had an armful of mismatched jackets, scarves, and hats. "Told you I'd take care of it," she said, her grin widening as she handed the garments over.
Ivy chuckled, taking a jacket and scarf. "Subtle. Real subtle."
Vi winked. "You love it."
Caitlyn, on the other hand, looked less amused. "This is theft, you know."
"Lighten up," Vi said, rolling her eyes. "It's survival. You want us to stroll through Zaun looking like Piltover tourists?"
Caitlyn sighed, relenting as she grabbed a coat and hat. "Fine. But next time, maybe don't draw so much attention."
Vi smirked. "Noted."
The three of them quickly changed into the stolen clothes, pulling on layers to mask their identities. Ivy slipped into a loose jacket that smelled faintly of oil and smoke, the familiar scent grounding her. Caitlyn's disguise was a little more put together; she tugged at the tight leather corset around her waist.
"Of course she gets the better outfit." Ivy mutters to herself quietly.
Once they were dressed, Caitlyn pulled a small notebook and a set of folded papers from her inner pocket, her professional demeanor snapping back into place. She crouched down, spreading the papers on a dry patch of the cobblestones, her keen eyes scanning the documents.
"We need to establish a point of contact," Caitlyn said, her voice low but focused. "The target is a middleman who works directly under Silco's network. If we can intercept him, we'll gain leverage to—"
"Slow down, Sherlock," Ivy interrupted, crouching beside her. "You don't just walk up to someone like that. Zaun doesn't work on schedules and flowcharts."
Caitlyn's brows furrowed. "We need a plan."
"And we need to not look like idiots," Ivy countered. "Stick with me and Vi. You play the uptight Enforcer, you'll blow our cover before we even start."
"She's got a point," Vi chimed in, leaning casually against the wall. "Zaun's all about improvising. Plans don't last long here."
Caitlyn's sharp eyes flicked toward Ivy, her fingers still resting on the edge of her papers. The Enforcer's usual confidence was tempered by the unfamiliarity of the undercity—a world where her badges and protocols held little weight. She studied Ivy for a moment before asking, "Alright, then. What do you suggest we do?"
Ivy paused, her gaze shifting briefly to Vi, who was leaning against the wall with her hands in her pockets, a casual grin playing on her lips. An idea sparked, and Ivy straightened up, brushing off the faint dust from her stolen jacket.
"Well," Ivy began, tilting her head toward Vi, "if we're going to blend in, we should look like we belong. And nothing screams 'normal' like grabbing a bite and a drink at a local pub."
Caitlyn raised an eyebrow. "A pub? How is that productive?"
"It's not about the food, princess," Ivy said, smirking. "It's about the people. Pubs are where you hear things—who's moving shipments, who's got beef with who, and maybe even where your precious middleman likes to hang out. Plus..." She trailed off, glancing toward Vi. "I'm starving, and I bet your brawler here wouldn't mind a pint."
Vi grinned. "You know me so well."
Caitlyn hesitated, clearly skeptical, but finally relented. "Fine. But we can't afford to draw attention."
Ivy turned on her heel, leading the way down the twisting alleys of Zaun. The dim neon signs and graffiti-streaked walls seemed to shift and blur as they moved deeper into the undercity, the sounds of distant machinery and muffled voices growing louder.
Finally, they reached a small, nondescript pub tucked into a narrow street. The sign above the door flickered faintly, the paint peeling from its edges. From inside came the low hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the occasional raucous laugh.
"This place'll do," Ivy said, pushing the door open and stepping inside.
The pub was dimly lit, the air thick with the smell of cheap ale and fried food. Patrons sat hunched over tables or at the bar, their voices blending into an indistinct murmur. The atmosphere was tense but not unfriendly—a perfect balance of anonymity and familiarity.
Ivy strolled to a corner table, gesturing for Caitlyn and Vi to follow. Vi, the easygoing one, plopped down into a chair and leaned back, scanning the room with casual interest. Caitlyn sat more stiffly, her gaze darting around as though mentally cataloging everyone present.
A server approached, her face tired but polite, and Ivy quickly ordered some basic food and drinks, not bothering to ask for Caitlyn's approval.
Once the server left, Caitlyn leaned forward, lowering her voice. "Now what? You think someone here will just spill everything we need to know?"
"Not exactly," Ivy replied, resting her elbows on the table. "But if we keep our ears open and act like we're not trying so hard, we might catch a lead." She smirked, adding, "Besides, you stick out enough as it is. Relax. Let me and Vi handle the blending in."
Vi chuckled, grabbing her drink as soon as it arrived. "See, this is why I like her. She's got style."
Caitlyn sighed, clearly not thrilled about the lack of structure, but took a sip of her drink anyway, her eyes scanning the room. Ivy, on the other hand, leaned back in her chair, a small smile playing on her lips as she savored the moment of freedom, the faint buzz of familiarity from being back in Zaun.
For the first time in a long while, she felt like she had the upper hand.
As the three of them settled into the pub, Ivy's gaze began to wander, scanning the room with a mixture of curiosity and habit. The patrons were a mix of Zaunites—workers with soot-streaked faces, shady dealers, and those just looking to unwind. It wasn't until her eyes landed on a girl across the room that Ivy's attention lingered.
The girl was seated at the bar, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders, and a playful smirk curling her lips. She caught Ivy's glance and raised an eyebrow, her gaze lingering just a little too long before turning away, only to look back a moment later.
Ivy smirked, tilting her head slightly, her confidence flaring as the girl's gaze returned. There was a quiet back-and-forth in those exchanged looks—an unspoken language that neither Vi nor Caitlyn missed.
"You've got an admirer," Vi said in a low voice, grinning as she nudged Ivy's arm. "What's the plan, hotshot?"
Before Ivy could respond, the girl at the bar slid off her stool, drink in hand, and sauntered over to their table. She leaned in close to Ivy, resting one hand on the edge of the table, her grin widening.
"You've got a hell of a stare," the girl said, her voice low and teasing. "What's a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?"
Ivy raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly but keeping her cool. "Just grabbing a drink. You?"
The girl chuckled. "Looking for company. You free to join me for another round at the bar?" Her eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and curiosity, clearly enjoying the game.
Vi immediately looked amused, throwing Ivy a supportive smirk. "Go on, Ivy. Live a little."
Ivy seemed interested, her lips quirking into a faint smile as she considered the offer. She stood halfway out of her seat, ready to follow, when Caitlyn's hand shot to her wrist pulling her back down, her sharp whisper cut through the moment.
"This isn't the time for distractions," Caitlyn said, her narrowed eyes locked onto Ivy. "We're here on a mission, not for... casual socializing."
Ivy turned to Caitlyn, her smirk fading into an annoyed scowl. "Relax, It's just a drink. I can multitask."
"Or it could be a trap," Caitlyn retorted, her voice low but firm. "You don't know her. She could be working for someone—or worse."
The girl at the table raised an eyebrow, her grin fading into something cooler. "If you're not free that's fine" she said, glancing between Caitlyn and Ivy.
Ivy sighed, her irritation with Caitlyn growing. "You think I don't know how to handle myself? This isn't Piltover. I know what I'm doing."
Vi, sensing the rising tension, leaned back with her drink and shot Caitlyn a warning glance. "Come on, Caitlyn. Don't let her wait any longer."
Caitlyn's jaw tightened, clearly unhappy, but she didn't say anything more, her gaze hard and unyielding.
Ivy didn't wait for further approval. She stood up, yanking her wrist away from Caitlyn's while smirking at the girl. "Lead the way."
As they walked toward the bar, Ivy could feel Caitlyn's disapproving stare burning into her back. But she ignored it, focusing instead on the spark of interest that had caught her attention in the first place. Sometimes, blending in meant playing the part—and right now, Ivy was more than willing to play.