Chapter 7
“I understand now.”
The rooftop stretched out under a blanket of muted moonlight, its weathered stone tiles slick with a thin layer of dew. The city below pulsed faintly with life, the glow of lamplights and the hum of machinery blending into a distant symphony. Cool air swept across the skyline, carrying with it the metallic tang of Piltover’s gears and the faint, acrid scent of Zaun far below.
“There’s a difference between fighting because you’re angry and fighting because you believe in something. Figure out which one you are, Vi.”
“This is what you wanted from me.” Vi looked down at her bloodied knuckles and clutched her fists. “You gave me these powers, not for myself, but for them.”
Vi stood near the roof's edge, her silhouette cutting against the vast expanse of stars and smoke. The wind tugged at her crimson hair, carrying strands across her face as she gazed out at the sprawling city. Far below, the muffled sounds of laughter and clinking glass echoed faintly through the alleys.
This wasn’t about vengeance or trying to fill Vander’s shoes. It wasn’t about punching her way through the pain or silencing the ghosts in her head. It was about being better—stronger than her anger, smarter than her guilt. She had the power to destroy, but she also had the power to protect, to save. That was what she needed to be: not just a weapon but something bigger, something that could give people hope.
“With great power comes great responsibility. You will understand that someday, my daughter.”
“Look who showed up.” Mylo teased as he jumped down the stairs and bumped his sister’s shoulder. “I was beginning to think you’d dropped out.” Other students filed into school as the bell’s ringing echoed throughout the courtyard.
“Very funny, Mylo.” Vi wrapped her arm around him and rustled his hair. “How would I help you with your remedial math homework?”
“Ay, quit that!” Swatting her hands away, he crossed his arms and eyed her suspiciously. “You were out all last night, but I see no new bruises on that fucked up face of yours. What were you doing?”
“Well, I came to a realization.”
“And that was…?” Mylo’s eyebrows furrowed, waiting for his sister to answer his question. “Oh, come on. Tell me.” His voice was laced with urgency and impatience as he shook Vi’s shoulders.
“I’ll tell you at gym.” Vi chuckled, pushing Mylo back up the stairs, and followed him into the crowded hallway.
“At gym?” Mylo’s eyes widened. “We have gym today? Fuck!” Slamming his hands against the nearest locker, he pretended to weep. “No! No! No!”
Vi watched her brother’s tantrum with an amused smile and pushed off from the locker next to him. “You act like we don’t have gym every other day. Buck up and stop being a baby.”
Mylo glared at Vi’s sly grin and scoffed. “You don’t listen to anything, do you? Actually, you weren’t at the assembly last week, so you wouldn’t know.” Mylo ignored Vi’s concerned look and began walking down the hall.
Rolling her eyes, Vi jogged to catch up with her brother, who continued to disregard the look she was giving him. “Spill it, Mylo. I have a class to get to.”
Mylo, pretending to be surprised to see his sister next to him, cupped his ear. “I’m sorry. What was that?”
“Tell. me.”
“Hm? I’m terribly sorry. I have awful hearing. Can you say that again?”
Vi burned daggers into the side of her brother's head as her scowl grew. “Fine. Please tell me what happened.”
“Would you look at that! I can hear again.” A barely suppressed grin that made his eyes crinkle at the edges. Barely suppressing a laugh, he answered her. “Well, if you must know,” His smile dropped, thinking about the awful thing he was about to tell his sister. “Principal Grayson, now known as the evil dictator, decided it would be a wonderful idea to merge the toppers' gym class with ours.”
Vi searched Mylo’s face, searching, hoping to find any hint that he was lying. “This is a joke, right? We already have to share classes with them, but now, the only fun period in school is being taken over by the pilties?” Vi ran her hands down her face, wishing this was a sick nightmare. “Fuck me.”
“Yeah, no kidding. If I had a shotgun right now, I would use it on both of us.” Mylo deadpanned, his lips making a thin line as he knocked on his art teacher’s door.
“Let me know if you find one, and call me!” Vi shouted as she ran down the deserted hallway. Looking at the clock, half-hung and half-nailed to the wall, she saw it was over fifteen minutes past the start of the first period. Vi muttered a curse as she saw Hoskel standing in front of his door with crossed arms, tapping his foot, and a sharp-eyed look directed at her.
“This is really starting to tick me off, Vanderson.” He opened the door for her.
“I know, I’m sorry-”
“Get in there before my foot does it for you.” Vi couldn’t help but chuckle as she walked into his class.
The gymnasium lights hummed faintly overhead, casting a harsh, fluorescent glow across the polished hardwood floor. The faint smell of chalk dust and sweat hung in the air, blending with the distant, metallic clatter of the equipment closet being shut. Vi stepped through the heavy double doors just as the shrill whistle of the coach echoed, signaling the start of class. The sound bounced off the cavernous walls, mingling with the buzz of conversation and the rhythmic squeak of sneakers.
Her eyes immediately scanned the room. The center court was lined with a neat row of bright, rubber dodgeballs, their smooth surfaces gleaming under the unforgiving light. Around the perimeter, clusters of students lingered, energy building in anticipation.
To her left, she spotted Ekko, Mylo, Claggor, and Jinx gathered near the bleachers. Ekko leaned casually against the wall, flipping a dodgeball between his hands like second nature. Mylo gestured wildly, his lanky frame practically vibrating with enthusiasm, while Claggor stood glued to the screen he was holding, nodding as if humoring Mylo’s endless ideas. Jinx, unmistakable with her bright pigtails and boundless energy, balanced on the balls of her feet, trying to grab the ball from Ekko’s hand.
Across the court, Jayce stood at the center of his group, his broad shoulders squared and an air of confidence radiating from him like a second skin. Mel was beside him, leaning lazily against a bench, her gold accents catching the light as she disinterestedly scanned the room. Near them, Caitlyn stood with her arms crossed, her posture effortlessly poised. Her ponytail fell neatly over her shoulder, and her sharp eyes flickered across the gym like she was assessing every detail.
Further back, Viktor leaned lightly on his crutch, his thin frame angled toward Sky, who gestured animatedly, her bright expression almost enough to match Jinx’s energy. Elora stood nearby, tapping away on her phone but occasionally glancing up, her attention clearly divided.
Vi’s boots struck the floor with steady thuds as she made her way toward her usual spot. The chatter dipped momentarily as her entrance drew a few glances, some curious, others dismissive. She caught sight of Caitlyn’s gaze flicking toward her briefly before turning away, her expression unreadable but sharp. The court’s dividing line stretched between the two groups like an unspoken challenge, the balls glinting in the center as if daring anyone to make the first move.
“This is such shit,” Vi said as she approached her friends. “How does the only enjoyable class become the worst?”
“Thank our amazing principal for that,” Jinx muttered. She stopped trying to pull the ball away from Ekko and focused on the game Claggor was playing on his phone.
“And guess who became our new teacher?” Mylo snatched the ball from Ekko and dribbled it around.
Vi’s eyes widened. “There is no way speedy in the wheelchair got the position.” Vi looked up, just in time to see Salo rolling into the room. “You got to be kidding me.” She scoffed.
“Ten points if you hit him.” Ekko, Jinx, and Mylo said at the same time. Mylo held out the rubber ball in his hand, a smirk plastered on his face.
“What’s in it for me?” Vi grabbed the red ball and began tossing it up in the air.
“I’ll let you on my quad racer.” Claggor, without looking up from his game, said.
“Deal.”
Across the court, Salo sat in his wheelchair, unaware of what would come, as he scolded Mel and Elora for being on their phones. Caitlyn stood next to them, trying not to snicker. Vi adjusted her grip, preparing for the missile she was about to launch on her unsuspecting victim.
“Here. Just in case.” Ekko tossed her another ball. “Don’t wanna miss.” Ekko smirked. Mylo was tugging on the boy’s shoulder, muffled laughter escaping his mouth. Jinx could barely contain herself as she bounced around her friends, biting her lip in emancipation. And Claggor was actually looking up from his phone, ready for the madness to unfold.
“I don’t miss.” Vi adjusted her grip, her muscles coiling as she pulled back her arm, launching the first ball in the air, quickly followed by the second.
“Everybody, get to your sides-” Salo shouted, but it was too late. The dodgeball rocketed forward, a blur of red cutting through the air. It struck Salo’s shoulder with a sharp whap, the force of the impact jerking his body to the side and sending his wheelchair rolling back a few inches.
Vi quickly huddled into her group, hoping no one saw her throw the balls. She heard a wave of laughter as Salo’s remarks echoed across the gym. Vi’s group couldn’t control it anymore and exploded into laughter with the rest of the gym. Jinx doubled over, clutching her sides as her high-pitched giggles filled the space. Mylo was leaning against Ekko for support, his laughter coming in wheezing gasps, while Claggor tried—and failed—to maintain a composed expression, his shoulders shaking with poorly concealed amusement. Suddenly, an eerie silence filled the room, no one besides Vi’s group could be heard.
“WHO DID THAT?” A posh voice came from Salo’s side of the gym. Vi froze as she recognized the person’s roaring voice.
The rest of Vi’s group froze as she did. Their eyes widened, jaws slacked, and looking at Vi with fear—not for them—but for her. Slowly, Vi turned around and looked at the blue-haired girl across the gym.
Caitlyn was surveying the gym, glowering at anyone who dared to look at her as she searched for the culprit. Finally, like a moth to a flame, found Vi’s guilt-ridden eyes. Her eyes were locked on Vi, Caitlyn’s stare burned into her, more potent than any words that might have been said.
“I think you’re in deep shit.” Vi heard Mylo mutter behind her, more fear in his voice than she was used to.
Mel, perched casually on the edge of the bleachers, raised an amused eyebrow, her lips curving into a faint smile as she glanced between Caitlyn and Vi. Viktor muttered something under his breath to Sky, who tried to hide her giggle behind a hand, while Elora, glued to her phone as always, paused just long enough to snap a quick photo before diving back into her screen.
Jayce was ready to go over to Vi and knock some sense into her for hitting his cousin on the head with a dodgeball but was stopped once Caitlyn put her hand up. She continued to glare at Vi— a cold, calculating expression.
Salo continued to mutter curses as he also looked around for a culprit but couldn’t find anyone to point the blame on. Sighing, he spoke, “Now, get to your sides! We haven’t got all day!”
The Zaunites and Piltovens got to their sides, waiting for Salo to blow his whistle. Once the whistle blew, chaos erupted on the court. Dodgeballs scattered in every direction as students lunged for them, the sharp squeak of sneakers and the dull thuds of rubber slamming into walls filling the gym. Vi darted forward, snagging a ball from the floor with a quick swipe, and pivoted, scanning for her first target.
Across the court, Jayce was already in action, his powerful throws cutting through the air like missiles. One ball ricocheted off Claggor’s shoulder, sending him trudging to the sidelines with a disappointed shrug. Ekko retaliated, a sly grin on his face as he hurled a ball with surprising speed, forcing Sky to leap out of the way.
Vi ducked low, narrowly avoiding a ball aimed her way, and used the momentum to propel herself toward the centerline. She moved faster than anyone else on the court, gripping the ball tightly, she whipped it toward Mel, who sidestepped with infuriating grace, the dodgeball missing her by inches.
Jinx was a whirlwind of energy on the left flank, her throws wild but effective. She laughed maniacally as she managed to hit Elora, whose phone clattered to the floor as she was forced out of the game. Meanwhile, Mylo had stationed himself near the backline, shouting unsolicited advice to Ekko and Claggor.
On the opposing side, Caitlyn moved with calculated precision. Every step, every throw was measured, her sharp blue eyes constantly scanning the chaos for openings. She effortlessly dodged a ball Mylo threw, her expression barely changing as she bent low and grabbed one of her own. Without hesitation, she launched it across the court, her aim perfect. The ball smacked into Jinx’s leg, and Jinx’s exaggerated wail of defeat echoed loudly as she dramatically flopped to the sidelines. Sticking up the finger at her when Salo was busy dodging a ball thrown at him.
Vi couldn’t help but notice Caitlyn’s composure, even amidst the chaos. She was efficient, sharp, and, annoyingly, really good at this game. But there wasn’t time to dwell on it. Another ball came hurtling toward her, this time from Jayce, and she instinctively flipped backward, the dodge so seamless it drew gasps from the sidelines. Vi landed lightly on her feet, a cocky grin spreading across her face as she grabbed another ball.
To his disappointment, Ekko got tagged next, leaving Vi and Mylo as the last ones standing on their team. On the other side, Caitlyn, Jayce, and Mel still held their ground, their throws relentless and coordinated.
Jayce was grinning widely as his eyes locked on Vi’s, preparing to launch the ball in his hand at her face. Running toward the halfway line, he threw the ball. Mylo, standing a couple feet from Jayce, watched as the ball whizz past his face, a direct hit at his sister. Vi smirked, using this to garner more attention, ran toward the ball, and jumped over it. Time slowed for her as she watched the ball go in between her legs and grabbed it. Running at the same speed Jayce came at her with, Vi hurled the ball back at him. Her throw—a thousand times more deadly— hit him square on the forehead, and a crack rang throughout the gym—the impact causing him to stumble and fall back onto the ground. Jayce shook his head, trying to regain his thoughts, and carefully walked to the sidelines.
The gym erupted into gasps of shock, turning into laughter once everyone saw the red mark on Jayce’s forehead. Jinx’s cackle bounced around the room as she held onto Ekko for support, who in turn held onto Claggor for support—her whole weight was placed on him.
Mylo was wiping the tears from his eyes, he couldn’t help but stare at the stupid look on Jayce’s face. His laughter died down, but it was too late: a ball struck him in the chest and bounced off before he could catch it. He watched as Mel snickered at him and was given a high-five by Caitlyn. Defeatedly, he walked over to the sidelines, “Kick their pampered asses, Vi!” Claggor gave him a pat on the shoulder, hoping to encourage him.
“Don’t let those piltie bitches win!” Jinx shouted, now jumping up and down, her face almost purple from holding her breath for so long.
Other Zaunites cheered and shouted words of encouragement at Vi, who was locked in on the 2v1 she now faced. Hoarding all the balls she could, Vi stood in the back of the gym, waiting for Caitlyn or Mel to give her an easy ball to catch.
Mel struck first, her throw arcing high, meant to draw Vi’s attention upward. Vi sidestepped instead, her instincts screaming that it was a distraction. She was right. Caitlyn’s throw came next, fast and straight, aimed at Vi’s torso. Vi spun out of the way, her feet skidding slightly against the polished floor as the ball zipped past her and slammed into the back wall.
Without hesitation, Vi grabbed a ball from the floor and hurled it toward Mel. The throw was fierce, faster than anyone could anticipate. Mel barely had time to react before the ball struck her shoulder with a resounding whap. Her smirk faltered for a moment as she stepped back, nodding slightly in acknowledgment before heading off to the sidelines.
Now, Caitlyn and Vi stood opposite to each other. The last ones in the game.
Vi felt as though she was in an Old Western standoff—hands trembling, ready to pull out her gun. The gym seemed to go quiet, either because everyone was waiting in anticipation or because she blocked out the noise—Vi couldn’t tell. Her only focus was on Piltover’s princess as she watched her with the same look of determination in her eye.
Caitlyn’s throw came fast, and Vi’s body reacted before her mind caught up, instincts and heightened reflexes kicking in as she leaned sharply to the side. The ball missed her by inches, whizzing past her ear and slamming into the far wall with a hollow thunk.
The crowd erupted in a cacophony of cheers and gasps, their energy feeding into the palpable tension that hung over the court. Vi’s heart pounded in her chest as she straightened, her gaze locking onto Caitlyn. She could feel the faint sting of sweat rolling down her temple, but she ignored it, focusing on the steady rhythm of her breathing and the weight of the dodgeball in her hand.
Caitlyn adjusted her stance, her ponytail shifting over her shoulder as she moved. She wasn’t rushing, wasn’t panicking. Every step she took was measured, her calm exterior betraying no sign of frustration. Vi felt her lips twitch into a grin. This wasn’t just a game anymore—it was a challenge, and she was all in.
The ball in Vi’s hand felt warm now, the heat of her grip seeping into the rubber. She shifted her weight, her muscles coiling as she bent her knees, readying for her next move. With a sharp inhale, she launched the ball, hurtling across the court like a rocket.
Caitlyn moved swiftly, sidestepping with the kind of grace that made it look effortless. The ball grazed her arm, but she didn’t flinch. Instead, she pivoted, scooping up another ball from the floor in one fluid motion. Her movements were mesmerizing, precise and calculated, and Vi couldn’t help but admire the control Caitlyn exuded—even if it made her an infuriatingly difficult opponent.
Vi barely had time to reset before Caitlyn was winding up again. This time, her throw was low and fast, aimed at Vi’s legs. Vi reacted instinctively, springing into the air with a burst of agility that made the ball sail harmlessly beneath her. She landed lightly, her boots skidding slightly on the polished floor, and immediately spun to grab another ball.
The crowd’s noise ebbed and flowed with every exchange, their cheers blending with the sharp squeak of sneakers and the occasional hollow thud of dodgeballs colliding with walls. Vi could hear her friends shouting from the sidelines—Jinx’s cackling laughter, Mylo’s exaggerated play-by-play commentary—but she tuned it all out, her focus narrowing to Caitlyn and the court between them.
The following exchange came quickly. Vi hurled another ball, aiming high this time, but Caitlyn ducked under it, her eyes never leaving Vi. Caitlyn countered immediately, her throw aimed straight at Vi’s torso. Vi twisted to the side, feeling the ball skim her ribs as it flew past. She gritted her teeth, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface.
This back-and-forth felt endless, each of them pushing the other to their limits. Caitlyn was relentless, her precision unmatched, but Vi had her speed, her instincts, and her powers. She could feel the fatigue setting in—her muscles burning, her breaths coming faster—but she also knew Caitlyn had to be feeling it too.
Finally, Vi saw her opening. Caitlyn was mid-step, her weight shifting just slightly as she moved for another ball. Vi lunged forward, closing the gap between them instantly, and hurled her dodgeball with everything she had. The ball soared straight and fast, impossible to avoid.
Caitlyn reacted, her arms coming up to catch it—but the force of Vi’s throw was too much. The ball slipped through her fingers, striking her square in the chest and bouncing to the floor.
The gym erupted. Cheers, groans, and laughter filled the space as the whistle blew, signaling the end of the game. Vi stood there for a moment, chest heaving, a satisfied grin spreading across her face as she watched Caitlyn straighten, brushing off her shirt with a composed nod. Their eyes met briefly, and Vi swore she saw the faintest flicker of amusement in Caitlyn’s otherwise steely gaze before the other girl turned and walked off the court, leaving Vi standing in the aftermath of her hard-won victory.
“Holy shit, Vi! I haven’t stopped thinking about that game.” Ekko walked over, Mylo, Claggor, and Powder not far behind him. “Some of the shit you pulled was incredible.” He readjusted his bag as they stood in front of the school.
“Hell yeah, it was!” Mylo slid down the rail—Powder following his lead—and shook Vi’s shoulders. “Bro, you should quit school and join like a pro dodgeball team.”
“You really shouldn’t-”
“Nonsense.” Mylo cut Claggor off and wrapped his arm around Vi’s shoulder. “Look, I could be your coach.” Vi was about to protest, but Mylo interrupted. “Think about. Imagine traveling the world—just you and me. Think about the food, the cities, the drinks, the girls, the weed. Best you’ve ever smoked.” Mylo waved his free arm, trying to get Vi to understand the picture.
“That sounds great and all, but I doubt there is a ‘pro dodgeball team,’” Vi quoted his words. “And besides, I think I would die if you were the only person with me.”
“Yeah! Why would she want to hang with you when she could be with me?” Jinx grinned proudly at Mylo’s disgusted face. “You’re annoying.”
“And you aren’t?” Mylo grimaced.
“Nope.” Jinx exclaimed, popping the ‘p’.
Mylo scoffed. “Now that’s bullshit.”
Flabbergasted, Jinx’s eyebrows furrowed. “No, it isn’t.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Nuh-uh”
“Uh-huh.”
“Nuh-uh”
“Uh-huh.”
Vi, Ekko, and Claggor continued to watch the two go back and forth. Every reply got louder and louder as they began a yelling match on the sidewalk. People passing and students leaving school turned their heads at Jinx and Mylo, who practically screamed at each other.
Finally, Ekko and Claggor got in the middle—only once Jinx screamed so loud a baby began to cry, and the mother gave her a death stare. Ekko pulled Jinx back as Claggor did Mylo. The two were still yelling at each other until Ekko covered Jinx’s mouth, and Claggor kicked Mylo with enough force for him to yelp.
“Ew! Disgusting, Jinx!” Ekko jumped back as he wiped his licked hand on his pants, his nose wrinkled in distaste.
The others' bickering seemed to become background noise when Vi felt a light tap on her shoulder. Turning around from the amusing scene before her, Vi’s smirk faltered as she saw who was standing in front of her.
Caitlyn stood there, her pristine clothing was as crisp as ever, her now let-down hair draped neatly over her shoulder, not a single hair out of place. The fading sunlight caught the sharp angles of her face, making her deep blue eyes seem even more piercing than they had been on the dodgeball court. She wasn’t glaring—not exactly—but her expression was serious, her lips pressed into a thin line as she looked at Vi.
“Well… what is it?” Vi asked, not accusingly but curious. Though, she pretended not to care as she looked Caitlyn over.
“I wanted to say good game.”
Vi looked at her again but more suspiciously. “It was a dodgeball game.”
“I know, but there’s never a time for good sportsmanship.” Caitlyn’s eye held a tad of amusement but, other than that, remained stoic. Sticking her hand out for Vi to take.
“Okay, good game, I guess.” Vi looked down at Caitlyn’s hand: long fingers with clean, simple nail polish on her fingernail. Looking at her hands, they were gruff. Scars littered her fingers and knuckles, and she was sure there was still dirt under her nails from finding Powder’s lost worm in the mud. Sighing, she shook her hand, barely catching the shock on Caitlyn’s face that was quickly replaced by a friendly smile.
After the handshake, they stood awkwardly for a few seconds before Caitlyn spoke up, “I also wanted to thank you for last week since I haven’t had the opportunity.”
“Last week…?” Vi thought for a moment before realizing what Caitlyn was talking about. “Last week. Yeah, well, us Zaunites are used to protecting you Pilties from trouble.” Vi grinned, her voice laced with playful mischief.
They heard a car honk and turned, seeing Caitlyn’s chauffeur waiting. Cracking an amused smile, Caitlyn teased back. “It didn’t seem like you were ‘protecting’ me when a ball was hurled at my face.”
Vi’s eyebrow shot up. “It hit your face?”
“So it was you?” Caitlyn crossed her arms.
“Uh… yeah, well, sorry about that. I was aiming for Salo.” Vi rubbed the back of her neck and nervously chuckled as Caitlyn’s piercing gaze bore into her.
“That makes it better? Aiming for a teacher?” Caitlyn gave her another sharp, incredulous look, her brows slightly arched and her lips pressing into a thin line.
“No… but it makes it funnier?” Vi waited for Caitlyn’s reaction. Slowly, her sharp expression softened, the corners of her mouth twitching before breaking into a quiet laugh.
“Seriously? That’s your excuse?” She said in between fits of giggles.
Vi’s grin widened as Caitlyn’s laughter filled the space between them, infectious in a way she hadn’t expected. She let out a low chuckle of her own, “Yeah, I mean, nothing’s funnier than seeing Salo fuss like a baby.”
Another honk came from Caitlyn’s car, which lasted longer. “I believe my driver is about to leave without me, so I better go.” Caitlyn laughed once more, light and genuine.
“Alright, cupcake. I guess I better not hold you back from your driver any longer.” Vi chuckled, teasing Caitlyn.
A light blush covered Caitlyn’s cheeks. “Very funny, Vi.” She readjusted her backpack and began moving away. “I’ll see you later.”
“See you later, princess.” Vi shouted back as Caitlyn got into her car. Earning a laugh in return before the vehicle drove away.
Vi turned back to the others, a light smile still on her face. Mylo, Ekko, Jinx, and even Claggor looked at her suspiciously. The fighting had long since ended, and they had been listening in on Vi’s conversation for quite a while.
“Cupcake?”
“Princess?”
“tch, tch, tch, tch.” Mylo tsked as he shook his head. “What are you doing? You can’t talk to pilties like that.”
“Like what?” Vi furrowed her eyebrows, looking between her siblings and friend with confusion.
“Like your girlfriend, dummy.” Jinx deadpanned, and everyone nodded in agreement.
“Girlfriend?” Vi’s jaw slacked, completely flabbergasted from the word that fell from her sister’s mouth.
“Yeah. Girl. Friend.” Ekko repeated.”
Vi scoffed. “You guys are going insane.” She pushed through them and walked down the street.
“The nicknames?”
“The flirting?”
“The handshake?”
“The laughter? The giggles?”
Their voices bounced around her as they followed her down the street. Vi continued to pick up pace, but they were right on her tail.
“Flirting? Giggling? You guys are going insane.” Vi stopped in her tracks and turned around to face them. “She’s from Piltover. Why would you think I would date—even flirt— with someone from Piltover?”
“That’s what it looked like.” Mylo butted in. A smug look plastered on his face as he crossed his arms. All Vi wanted to do was stick him to the highest building in Piltover and leave him there for a couple days.
“Erm, that’s what it looked like–shut up. How about that?” Vi mocked him in a high-pitched voice.
“I do not sound like that!” Mylo scowled and kicked a rock on the ground. It flew across the streets and almost smashed into a window. Quickly, he ducked behind Claggor, hoping the storekeeper didn’t see him.
“Sure, you don’t.” Vi rolled her eyes and started to walk down the street again. “Look,” She sighed and stopped again. “I gotta… I gotta do something before I get home. You guys okay getting home by yourselves?” Her annoyed look became serious as she glanced around at her family.
“Yeah, we’ll be okay.” Claggor smiled reassuringly as he rustled Ekko and Mylo’s hair. They tried pushing away from him—kicking his legs and swatting his hand away—but couldn’t get out of his grip.
Powder wasn’t as reassured, her wide eyes darting nervously around Vi’s face as she fidgeted with the sleeve hem. “You promise you’ll come home? You keep saying that, but-”
“Hey,” Vi pulled Powder in and looked into her eyes, a comforting hand resting on her little sister’s cheek. “I promise I’ll come home, and when I do, I’ll even watch your show.”
Powder's eyes lit up, and she hugged Vi tighter. “Oh good!” She bounced back with a grin on her face. “It’s on at nine, so don’t be late.” Pointing a stern finger at her sister, she waited for Vi to agree.
“Okay. I’ll be back at nine—sharp—and watch your show. I promise.” Vi held out her pinky finger.
Powder’s stern expression broke into a smile as she pinky promised her sister. “Yay! I’ll even get Mylo to watch!”
“What’d she just say? Did she enlist me or something?” Mylo panicked in Claggor’s arms, thinking of whatever sadistic thing Jinx did to him.
“You’ll just have to wait and see.” Vi smirked back at him as she walked down a different street, hearing Mylo’s groan echo bounce on the walls.
The dim light of the early evening cast long shadows across the alley, the dividing line between Piltover and Zaun a blurred gradient of steel and grime. The hum of machinery from the undercity mingled with the distant chime of clock towers above, creating an ever-present symphony of two worlds clashing. The air was thick, carrying the faint metallic tang of Zaun’s smog and the sharp crispness of Piltover’s cleaner streets.
Vi crouched low behind a stack of rusted crates, her breathing steady but her heart pounding like a drum in her chest. Her suit lay beneath a tangle of tarps and scrap metal, exactly where she’d left it the night before. It wasn’t much—just a mishmash of old gear she’d cobbled together in secret. A patched leather jacket, some reinforced boots, fingerless gloves she’d added padding to, and a crude mask she’d stitched from scraps of fabric.
She reached out and pulled the bundle free, her fingers brushing against the coarse fabric. The makeshift mask stared back at her, its uneven stitching and haphazard design a glaring reminder of how out of her depth she was. But it wasn’t about perfection. It was about doing something—anything—to make a difference.
The faint sound of a Zaunite tram rattling in the distance drew her attention. She glanced toward the end of the alley, where the last rays of sunlight struggled to pierce the haze, painting the edges of the industrial skyline in muted gold. The divide between the two cities felt tangible, like balancing on a tightrope—on one side, Piltover’s clean order; on the other, Zaun’s chaotic sprawl. And in the middle, her.
She slipped the jacket on first, the worn leather creaking softly as it settled over her shoulders. The gloves came next, her fingers flexing against the reinforced material. She tied the mask behind her head, the fabric clinging tightly to her face, her breath warming the inside as she adjusted it. The boots felt heavier tonight, though she knew it was just the weight of anticipation. Fully suited, she took a step back, her reflection catching briefly in a fractured piece of scrap metal leaning against the wall.
For a moment, she just stared at herself, the image both foreign and familiar. The jagged stitching, the dark colors, the roughness of it all—it wasn’t pretty, but it felt right. She rolled her shoulders, feeling the stretch of the fabric, the give of the reinforced joints she’d sewn herself. It wasn’t about looking the part. It was about being the part.
As Vi fastened the jacket, her fingers brushed against the spider emblem stitched onto its chest. It was rough, uneven, and hastily done—black thread against dark leather, barely noticeable unless you were close. She had stitched it herself late one night, a half-formed idea swirling in her head as she worked by the dim glow of a single lamp in her room.
The distant sound of a scream tore her from her thoughts, sharp and cutting through the quiet like a blade. Deep voices followed after it, a pack of wolves hunting. Her senses heightened, the faint tingling at the back of her neck buzzing to life. Without hesitation, she took a deep breath and stepped forward, the alley swallowing her as she darted toward the sound.
Her boots hit the pavement in a steady rhythm, the suit clinging to her like a second skin. She scaled the nearest wall, her fingers gripping the rough brick with ease. Running from building to building, she waited for the sound of the scream again. Vi looked down into alleyways, swung over streets, and climbed skyscrapers, hoping to get a sense of the danger below.
Finally, Vi heard it again. Tingles went down her body—an alarm of danger—as she jumped from a roof and dove into the air below. Catching the scream again, the same voices followed. Vi vaulted over the edge of the building and landed silently on the adjacent rooftop, her enhanced senses guiding her toward the sound. The scream had been sharp and raw, cutting through the industrial hum of the city like glass on steel. The air was thick with tension, the faint echoes of hurried footsteps and muffled cries drawing her to an alley below.
She crouched at the edge of the rooftop, her breath steady but her heart hammering in her chest. A flickering streetlamp dimly lighted the narrow alley, its pale orange glow casting long shadows across the cracked pavement. The scent of oil and rust filled the air, mingling with the acrid stench of fear that seemed to radiate from below.
There were four aggressors now, their movements sharp and confident as they cornered a small group of terrified people. The group consisted of a man clutching a child tightly to his chest, his eyes darting frantically between the attackers, and two young women pressed against the brick wall, their trembling hands clinging to each other. The faint sound of the child crying cut through the air, the kind of sound that made Vi’s stomach twist with urgency.
One of the assailants brandished a crowbar, its metal glinting as he tapped it against the palm of his hand with deliberate menace. Another held a knife, its serrated edge catching the faint light as he gestured toward the group, shouting something inaudible over the pounding in Vi’s ears. The third man, burly and broad, grinned with unnerving confidence as he blocked the alley’s exit, his arms crossed over his chest. The fourth lingered near a stolen purse on the ground, rummaging through its contents with practiced nonchalance as if this was routine for them.
The man clutching the child stepped forward slightly, his trembling voice barely audible as he tried to reason with the attackers. His efforts were met with mocking laughter, the man with the crowbar stepping closer and raising the weapon threateningly. The women gasped, pulling each other closer as the situation spiraled further out of control.
Vi’s jaw tightened, her fingers digging into the edge of the rooftop as she scanned the scene. Every movement below stood out in sharp detail—the shifting of weight, the glint of the knife, the flinch of the young woman as the crowbar swung closer. Her instincts screamed at her, the tingling at the back of her neck reaching a fever pitch.
She dropped silently into the shadows of the alley, her landing muted but deliberate. Straightening, she stepped into the faint light, the crude spider emblem on her chest becoming visible as she moved. Her boots against the cracked pavement echoed through the tense air, pulling every set of eyes toward her.
The man with the crowbar froze, his grin faltering as his gaze snapped to Vi. The others followed, their confidence wavering as they took in her posture—calm, steady, but brimming with an intensity that made the air feel heavier. The group of victims stared as well, their terror mingling with confusion at the sight of her.
Vi flexed her gloved hands at her sides, her voice steady as it cut through the silence. “This isn’t really a fair fight,” she glanced between the four men. “you got lil’ ol’ me and a bunch of jackasses about to get their asses kicked.”
The men scoffed and looked between each other, tightening their grip on their weapons. “Who the fuck you think you are?” The man with the crowbar said. “Beat it before we kill ya, too.” The people gasped at his statement and clutched each other in fear, their whimpering louder.
“I just told you who I am. The person who’s gonna kick your asses and hand you over to the police. Are you stupid or something?”
Before the man had time to reply, Vi lunged forward, her enhanced speed turning her into a blur. The man with the crowbar reacted first, swinging the weapon in a wide arc, but Vi ducked effortlessly, the motion fluid and controlled. She came up fast, her fist connecting with his gut in a solid thud that drove the air out of him. He staggered back, wheezing, the crowbar slipping from his grasp as he crumpled to the ground.
The second man, the one with the knife, lunged at her with a snarl, the blade gleaming in the dim light. Vi’s senses flared, the faint tingling at the back of her neck guiding her movements. She sidestepped at the last second, grabbing his wrist mid-swing. With a sharp twist, she forced him to drop the knife, the clatter of metal on pavement echoing through the alley. She followed up with an elbow to his jaw, the impact sending him spinning into the brick wall before he slumped to the ground, dazed.
The burly man at the alley’s exit let out a roar, charging at her like a freight train. Vi braced herself, her muscles coiling as she met his charge head-on. He swung a massive fist, but she blocked it, the force reverberating up her arm. Gritting her teeth, she slipped beneath his guard and delivered a rapid series of punches to his ribs. He stumbled, but his sheer size kept him upright. Growling, he reached for her again, but she leapt up, planting her boots against the wall and using it to propel herself over him. As she landed behind him, she swept his legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground with a heavy thud.
The fourth man, who had been rifling through the stolen purse, froze as he watched his companions fall. His hands trembled as he scrambled backward, his wide eyes darting between Vi and the alley’s exit. “Hey, come back here,” Vi snapped, her voice low and sharp as she shot a web at him and yanked him back into the alley. He stumbled over his own feet, falling onto his back as he raised his hands in surrender.
Vi’s piercing gaze swept over the alley, ensuring none of them were getting back up anytime soon. The man with the crowbar groaned, clutching his stomach, while the one with the knife lay slumped against the wall, blood dripping from his split lip. The burly man was still trying to roll onto his side, his strength no match for the beating he’d just taken.
Behind her, the small group of victims stared in stunned silence. The man holding the child hugged them closer, his wide eyes fixed on Vi like she was something out of a story. The two young women clung to each other, their expressions a mix of awe and disbelief.
Vi straightened, her chest heaving slightly as she adjusted her jacket. She turned to the group, her voice softer now. “You’re safe,” she said, glancing at the child, who peeked out from behind their father’s shoulder. “Get out of here. Now.”
The man nodded quickly, gathering the others as they hurried toward the far end of the alley. Glancing back only once, he disappeared into the shadows. Vi turned her attention back to the four men sprawled across the ground. Her fists clenched briefly at her sides before she let out a slow breath, the adrenaline still thrumming in her veins.
With a flick of her wrist, the faint thwip of her web broke the tense silence. A thin, glistening thread of webbing shot out, catching the knife-wielding man by his wrist as he tried to crawl away. He yelped, his body jerking as Vi tugged him off the ground like a rag doll. Before he could protest, another quick movement had him hoisted upside down, his curses muffled as blood rushed to his head.
The others froze, their wide eyes darting between Vi and their dangling companion. “This is gonna be fun. Maybe not for you,” she muttered, her voice laced with dark amusement. One by one, she moved efficiently, her webbing wrapping around their wrists and ankles as she yanked them up like hanging ornaments. The burly man struggled the most, his growls turning into panicked grunts as she flipped him into the air with a strength that left his protests futile.
Within moments, the alley looked like something out of a nightmare. Four men hung upside down, their limbs tangled in thick webs that clung to the fire escape and pipes overhead. The knife clattered to the ground as its owner’s grip failed, and the crowbar dangled uselessly from another’s web-covered hand. They twisted slightly in their bindings, their muffled protests mixing with groans of discomfort.
“You guys look so pretty, like Christmas ornaments—maybe not that pretty—but close enough.” Vi shrugged, and stood back. Smirking as she watched the men struggle in her webs. The sound of sirens caught her attention, “I gotta go, but hang in there, alright?” Vi snickered as she shot a web and swung back into the city.
The city was alive with motion, its usual symphony of mechanical hums and distant chatter shattered by the screech of tires and the wail of a horn. From her perch atop a rooftop, Vi’s sharp eyes caught the flash of headlights weaving recklessly through Piltover’s streets below. The car barreled through intersections, narrowly missing a tram as it screeched around a corner, its stolen cargo clearly visible in the back seat.
Vi’s pulse quickened, the faint tingling in her neck signaling this was what caught her attention. Without hesitation, she fired a web toward a nearby building, the tension in her arms steadying as she swung out into the open air. The cityscape rushed by in a blur of golden light and cold steel as she followed the chase from above, her movements fluid and deliberate.
The car sped through the crowded streets, scattering pedestrians and forcing other vehicles to swerve onto the sidewalks. Vi stayed just overhead, her boots skimming the tops of streetlamps as she swung lower to keep pace. A web shot out and latched onto a tram cable, pulling her forward in an elegant arc. The city’s lights reflected in the crude spider emblem on her chest, catching the attention of a few late-night workers and bystanders who paused mid-step, their gazes snapping upward.
“Did you see that?” one of them muttered, pointing as Vi darted past.
“What is that?” another whispered, their voice a mix of awe and disbelief. “How is that possible?”
Vi barely registered the murmurs as she focused on the speeding car. It plowed through a fruit stand, sending crates of apples tumbling into the street. She gritted her teeth, firing another web to slingshot herself forward. The wind tore at her hair, her jacket flaring behind her like a crimson streak against the dark skyline.
The car made a sharp turn onto a narrower road, its tires screeching as the driver lost control momentarily. Vi saw her chance. She shot a web at the back bumper, the sticky strand snapping taut as it latched onto the vehicle. With a sharp tug, she launched herself downward, her boots slamming onto the roof of the car with a resounding thud.
Inside, the driver and passenger shouted in surprise, their panicked faces visible through the cracked windshield. Vi crouched low, her gloved hand gripping the edge of the roof for balance as the car swerved violently. The vehicle barreled toward an open marketplace, people scattered, hoping the truck wouldn’t crush them.
She fired two quick webs, anchoring them to the side buildings, and yanked hard. The car screeched to a halt as the tension of the webbing dragged it sideways, the tires spinning uselessly against the pavement. It skidded to a stop inches from a stall selling mechanical parts. The vendor was frozen in shock as Vi leapt off the roof and landed lightly in front of the car.
The driver stumbled out, his hands raised as he babbled something incoherent while the passenger tried to make a run for it. Vi fired a web at his ankle, yanking him off his feet and leaving him sprawled on the ground.
By now, a small crowd had gathered at a safe distance, their faces illuminated by the glow of nearby lamps. Their whispers filled the air, blending with the distant sound of sirens approaching.
“She stopped it,” someone said, their tone breathless.
“Is that… a spider on her chest?”
Vi adjusted her jacket, the crude emblem catching the light as she shot a sharp glance at the crowd. Some of them stepped back instinctively, but a few lingered, their expressions a mix of awe and curiosity. She turned to the driver and passenger, both tangled in her webbing, and pointed at them with a gloved finger.
“Stay put,” she growled, her voice low enough that it sent a shiver through the air.
As the sound of the sirens grew louder, Vi fired another web and swung upward, disappearing into the shadows of the buildings. Below, the crowd buzzed with excitement, pointing toward the direction she’d gone. The figure in the red and black suit leaving behind more questions than answers.
As Vi swung further toward Zaun, she looked at her watch 8:49. “Just in time, Pow.”