Chapter 6
“Alright, class. Flip to the second page in your packet and begin your lab.” Heimerdinger stood on a stool before the class, a cheerful glint in his eye as he watched his students divulge their work.
“Vi, grab the beaker.” Ekko nodded at the glassware across from Vi, who slid it over and returned to staring into space. Looking between the paper and his friend, Ekko sighed and stopped filling the beaker with water. “Vi, are you okay? You seem… more out of it than usual.”
Vi rested her hand on her cheek as she turned her head, facing Ekko. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Well,” Ekko poured the packet of chemicals into the water before turning to Vi again. “lately, we’ve noticed how distant you’ve become. More distant than when Vander died. It’s like ever since that field trip, you just disappeared.”
Ekko scribbled down notes as the water turned gray and bubbles began to appear. “Yeah, well, things have been different lately.”
“Is that why every time I see you, you look fucked up?” Ekko chuckled as he dumped the liquid into the sink and cleaned the beaker. “Hand me the test tubes.”
Vi snorted as she grabbed what Ekko asked. “I guess that’s one way to put it.” She adjusted her safety goggles, pushing back bangs that began to block her eyesight.
As Ekko filled each vile with a different substance, his eyes flickered with unease, turning back at Vi. “We are really worried about you, Vi. Whatever you’re going through, let us help.”
“Thanks, Ekko.” Vi mumbled as she watched Ekko measure out salt to pour into the test tubes.
“Yeah, of course- HOLY SHIT!” Ekko shot back as one of the test tubes erupted in a violent hiss, bubbling over with thick white foam. The reaction was instantaneous, a frothy geyser shooting out of the glass and splattering across the workbench. A sharp, acrid smell filled the room, making Vi instinctively lean back and cover her nose.
Ekko stumbled backward, nearly tripping over his chair as he waved his hands to fan the air. “What the hell? I didn’t even mix anything volatile yet!” he exclaimed, eyes wide as he stared at the overflowing mess.
Vi couldn’t help but crack a grin, despite herself. “You sure about that, Einstein? Looks like you’ve got a chemical volcano on your hands.”
Ekko shot her a look, both exasperated and amused. “This isn’t funny, Vi! I swear I only added salt and—wait, was that the hydrogen peroxide tube?” He slapped his forehead. “Damn it, I must’ve grabbed the wrong one.”
Vi raised an eyebrow, still watching the foam spill over like an unstoppable tide. “So... this wasn’t supposed to happen?”
“Not even close,” Ekko muttered, grabbing a rag to clean up the mess. “You’re lucky that wasn’t anything more reactive, or this place would’ve gone up in flames.”
Vi leaned back against the wall, smirking. “Well, at least you’re keeping things interesting.”
Ekko glanced up at her, pausing momentarily before his expression softened. “You laugh it off, but I’m serious, Vi. We’re worried. Don’t think you can distract me with exploding test tubes.”
Her grin faltered, and the tension between them hung in the air, thick as the foam still bubbling in the background.
“Ekko, my boy, what happened?” Heimerdinger rushed over, hopping onto Ekko’s chair to get a better look. “Ah, I see. You mixed the salt with hydrogen peroxide. Honest mistake!” He turned toward the rest of the class. “Get back to work. This packet is due by the end of class!” The rest of the class focused back on their work, some continued to peek over at the mess on Vi and Ekko’s table. Heimerdinger smiled at Vi and Ekko before hopping down and walking to his desk.
“It would’ve been hilarious if that thing shot in your eye.” Jayce’s smug-sounding voice chirped from behind them. “Like imagine,” He used his hand to create the scene, covering his eyes as he pretended to jump back in hysterics. “Ow, my eyes! I can’t- I can’t see! Someone call a doctor, but make sure you can pay because I have no money.” Peaking an eye between fingers before he broke down into laughter. “But seriously, how do you guys pay for doctors? Do they even have hospitals in Zaun, or do you just go to your local witches and pray the pain away?” He wiped tears from his eyes. His friend snickered in his seat beside him.
“Very funny, Jayce.” Ekko scoffed, grabbing a wet cloth and wiping down the table.
“What? No comment from the sewer rat today?” Jayce gestured to Vi as she ran the test tubes under the sink, ignoring Jayce’s remarks. “Wow, that’s new. I’ve never seen you show restraint.” A smug undertone threaded through his words. “Cat’s got your tongue?”
“Shut up, Jayce. Why don’t you bother someone else?” Ekko glared at the dark-haired boy, who disregarded his words. Jayce’s condescending smile grew into a devilish smirk as he watched Vi clench and unclench her jaw.
“You know,” Jayce began, leaning forward in his seat. Ekko, ready to huck the test tube in his hand at the boy’s thick head, waiting for his next words. “Caitlyn told me what happened the other day about that guy who intruded. The night janitor, right?” Jayce’s friend whispered something in his ear, causing him to chuckle. “Anyway, she told me he was Zaunite trash like you guys, probably hired to steal something a bottom feeder could never get their hands on. It got me thinking… You’re the one who ‘stopped’ him, and you’re a slum rat, too,” Jayce raised his hands, tilting them back and forth as if weighing invisible options on a set of scales. “I was thinking this was all some set up by you. Stop your accomplice and steal whatever you guys were looking for. I mean, there’s gotta be something valu-”
Vi sprang forward, her hand latching onto the collar of his shirt with a fierce grip. With a sharp yank, she hauled him out of his chair and over the desk, slamming him onto the floor with a thud that echoed through the room. She stood over him, her glare cold and unyielding, every inch of her radiating barely restrained fury.
“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” Jayce braced himself, expecting the inevitable punch, but it never came. Tentatively, he cracked his eyes open, bracing for the sight of the pink-haired girl’s piercing glare boring into him. Instead, his attention was drawn to the sharp slam of the classroom door in his peripheral vision. His gaze darted toward it, then back to the others in the room, their wide-eyed stares flickering between him and the now-closed door.
The room felt small, a refuge from the raucous energy of The Last Drop that pulsed through the walls like a heartbeat. The low thrum of music and muffled shouts seeped in, mixing with the sharp tang of alcohol and smoke that clung to the air. Vander lowered himself onto the worn sofa beside Vi, his weight making it creak. He glanced at her bloodied knuckles, the skin raw and cracked, and then at her hunched posture, shoulders tight with tension.
“Wanna tell me what happened?” Vander asked, his voice steady, his presence grounding.
Vi kept her eyes on her hands, the dull ache in her fists a reminder of the fight. Her chest rose and fell in slow, deliberate breaths, each one measured as though holding back an avalanche of emotions. “Some piltie jerk was making fun of Powder. I handled it.” Her voice was low, the edge of defiance tempered by something quieter—guilt, maybe, or doubt.
Vander leaned back, a small chuckle escaping him. “If you handled it, I wonder what the other guy looks like.” He tried to meet her gaze, but she didn’t look up. The humor faded from his face as he let out a long, tired sigh. “It’s easy to throw a punch, but it takes real strength to hold back when it matters. Sometimes, a person seeing your restraint shows how much of a fighter you truly are.”
Vi’s scoff broke the stillness, sharp and bitter. “So you want me to do nothing next time?” She turned her head to him, her eyes narrowing, the flicker of a challenge in her tone.
“That isn’t what I meant.” Vander’s hand found her back, his touch firm yet comforting. His expression softened, the lines of worry deepening around his eyes. “Vi, you can’t carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. It might be best to let someone else lend you a hand every so often.”
She stared at him, her brow furrowing. “Someone else?” Her voice cracked slightly, but she masked it with disbelief. “I can’t risk them for my sake. What if something happened and I… I couldn’t save them?”
Vander’s gaze lingered on her, heavy with understanding. “Vi, you can’t carry everything on your own. It’s not a weakness to lean on the people who care about you—it’s what makes us stronger together. You’re not alone in this, no matter how much it might feel that way. Let that be a lesson.” His words were low and deliberate, each one carrying the weight of someone who had learned the same truth the hard way.
He leaned forward, resting his forehead gently against hers. For a moment, the world outside seemed to fade, leaving only the faint hum of the bar and the unspoken bond between them. Then Vander stood, his broad figure casting a shadow across the dim room as he headed back into the chaos of The Last Drop, leaving Vi alone with her thoughts and bloodied knuckles.
Vi slammed her fist against the locker with a force that sent a sharp metallic clang echoing down the empty hallway. The sound reverberated, bouncing off the cold, sterile walls and fading into a heavy silence. When she pulled her hand back, her knuckles were red and raw, the jagged imprint of her anger etched permanently into the dented metal.
She stared at the mark, her chest rising and falling with uneven breaths, the sting in her hand grounding her for just a moment. But it didn’t last. A low sigh escaped her lips as the memory came rushing back—Vander’s steady voice, his firm hand on her shoulder, the quiet strength in his eyes that always seemed to hold her together.
Her fingers flexed unconsciously, the dull ache in her hand now competing with the sharper pain in her chest. The hallway seemed to grow colder, the fluorescent lights above casting harsh shadows that felt too empty, too lifeless. She leaned her forehead against the locker, her breath fogging the cool metal as fragments of his words echoed in her mind.
“You can’t fight the world on your own, kid. Sometimes, you gotta let someone else help carry the weight.”
Vi clenched her jaw, the tension coiling through her like a spring about to snap. The locker dent stared back at her, a silent reminder of her frustration, her loss, and the fight she couldn’t seem to win—against the world, against herself, or against the memory of a man she could never truly live up to.
“Make it stop. Make it stop.” She pleaded lowly as Vander’s voice began to consume her every thought. “Get out of my fucking head!” Vi slammed her head against the locker, a sliver of hope the force would put her out. “You left me.” She chuckled lowly. “You died and gave me this hole that I can never seem to fill. Did you send me these stupid powers thinking they would help? Well, they aren’t. Actually, they’re making it worse. Thanks for that.”
Vi pushed off the locker, walking through the empty hall as her mind continued to spiral. The hall seemed never endless—frozen in time as Vi visited the haunted cage of memories buried in the past. Like Heaven’s gate, the exit appeared shiny and bright as it stood in its glory. Vi sighed in relief as she sprinted out of it and down the sidewalk of Piltover’s busy streets.
The streets of Piltover buzzed with the rhythmic hum of daily life. People strolled along the cobblestone roads, their finely tailored clothes a sharp contrast to the city’s industrial underbelly. The chatter of voices rose and fell in a steady cadence, blending with the crisp echo of footsteps on stone and the distant hiss of steam vents.
Vi darted through the crowd, her movements quick and purposeful but out of place amidst the measured elegance of Piltover’s citizens. Heads turned as she passed, their curious glances lingering a beat too long. Her Zaunite origins were unmistakable—the worn edges of her jacket, the oil-stained boots that clashed with the pristine streets, and the raw energy in her stride that set her apart from the polished calm of Piltover’s elite.
A merchant paused mid-haggle to watch her go, his brow furrowing as he whispered something to his companion. A woman walking her dog tugged the leash a little tighter as Vi passed, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. The divide between Zaun and Piltover felt thicker than the smog that sometimes drifted up from the Undercity, and Vi could feel it pressing down on her like an invisible weight.
But she didn’t care. Her focus was ahead, her boots pounding against the stone as the world blurred around her. The faint scent of machinery and oil from Zaun still clung to her, mixing with Piltover’s cleaner, metallic air—a constant reminder of how much she didn’t belong. Still, she pushed forward, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease.
Vi ran into an alley, ready to web her way above the crowd, but a voice crying out caught her attention. The scream was desperate, begging for something to reach out to it. Running away from the noise of the city streets of Piltover, Vi was swallowed by the twists and turns of the backstreets, heading further and further into its underbelly.
The desperate cries echoed through the narrow, twisting corridors, growing louder and more frantic with every step Vi took. Her boots pounded against the uneven cobblestones as she plunged deeper into the labyrinthine maze of backstreets, the sound of her breath mixing with the distant shouts. Shadows stretched and warped along the walls, the dim, flickering light barely enough to guide her way. The air grew heavier, thick with the scent of damp stone and the faint metallic tang of something she couldn’t quite place. With each turn, the cries pulled her forward, a haunting beacon she couldn’t ignore, urging her deeper into the dark, suffocating warren.
Vi’s stomach churned violently, the sensation twisting into a sharp, throbbing ache that matched the tingling in her fingertips, each pulse hammering against her nerves. Goosebumps erupted across her arms as the oppressive chill of the alley pressed in on her, but it wasn’t just the cold—it was the weight of dread settling deep in her chest. She skidded around the corner, her breath hitching as her eyes locked onto the source of the cries: a young girl, no older than eight, clutching a battered teddy bear with trembling hands. Her wide, tear-streaked eyes were filled with terror as a man loomed over her, his face obscured by the shadow of a hood, one hand gripping her wrist with unyielding force. The girl’s muffled sobs tore through the air, and Vi felt her body tense, every muscle coiled like a spring ready to snap.
Vi froze, her breath catching in her throat as her gaze locked on the hooded man. For a heartbeat, time seemed to stop. The curve of his shoulders, the way his hood shrouded his face—it all came rushing back like a tidal wave.
You killed him!” Vi shouted, her voice cracking as she drove another punch into his side. The man groaned, his head lolling to the side as his defiance began to waver.
“I didn’t… have a choice,” he muttered, his words slurring as he tried to catch his breath.
With a sharp inhale, she sprang forward, the webbing at her wrists snapping out with a whip-like crack. It struck the man’s arm mid-yank, wrenching it back and making him stumble. Before he could react, Vi yanked him off his feet with a vicious pull, sending him crashing to the ground with a sickening thud. The teddy bear fell from the girl’s hands as she scrambled back, her cries now a muted backdrop to the storm building in Vi.
Her boots slammed down beside the man’s head as he groaned, clutching his arm. “You think you can hurt her?” Vi growled, her voice low and trembling with rage. She grabbed him by the front of his hoodie, lifting him off the ground with ease. The man flailed, but it was useless against her strength. With a primal scream, she hurled him against the alley wall, the impact reverberating through the stone as his body crumpled like a rag doll.
The man tried to crawl away, but Vi was on him in an instant, her fists colliding with his torso and face in a blur of red and motion. Blood sprayed against her knuckles and smeared across the ground, the man’s groans devolving into choked gasps.
When he tried to reach for something in his pocket, Vi’s webs lashed out again, pinning his arm to the wall. “What the fuck doing you think you’re doing?” she snarled, her voice barely human. She hoisted him up again, slamming him back with enough force to crack the stone. His hood fell back, revealing wide, terrified eyes and a bloodied face. But to Vi, he wasn’t just a man—he was every nightmare she’d ever failed to stop.
Her webbing tightened around his neck as she dragged him close, their faces inches apart. “I shoulda fucking killed you last time.” she spat, venom dripping from her words, “This time I’ll finish it.” A low, sinister sound came from Vi’s mouth, dripping with dark amusement.
“Who are yo-”
With one final blow to his jaw that sent his head snapping back, she let him collapse to the ground, unconscious and bleeding. She turned to the girl, her heart pounding and her hands trembling as the reality of her actions caught up to her. The girl stared at her, clutching the teddy bear once more, her expression a mix of awe and fear.
Vi stood over the crumpled man, her chest heaving, fists clenched and trembling with adrenaline. Blood dripped from her knuckles, painting the cracked cobblestones beneath her. She glared down at his unconscious form, his hood fallen back to reveal a battered, unrecognizable face. Her breath caught in her throat, and the world around her seemed to tilt.
It wasn’t him.
She stumbled back, her heart pounding as the realization slammed into her. This wasn’t the man who killed Vander. The features didn’t match, the build was all wrong—she had been so consumed by her rage, her grief, that she hadn’t even seen the truth. Her fists loosened, the tingling in her fingers now an unbearable, electric hum.
For a moment, the alley was silent, save for the distant hum of the city and her ragged breathing. She wiped a hand across her face, smearing a streak of blood along her cheek without realizing it. Her stomach churned as the weight of what she’d done settled over her like a suffocating fog. She glanced down at the girl, still clutching her teddy bear, her wide eyes filled with a fear that cut deeper than any wound Vi had ever taken.
This wasn’t justice. This wasn’t what Vander would’ve wanted.
Vi took a shaky step back, her breath catching in her throat. Her hands were still trembling, her heart pounding in her chest, but this time, it wasn’t fear driving her. It was determination. She turned to the girl and knelt down, her voice softer than it had been all night. "You’re safe now," she said, her words more a promise to herself than the girl. "I’ll make sure of it." And for the first time, she felt like she truly meant it.