"Of all places to be spirited away to, I get sent to this shit world."
A 15-year-old young man with unruly black hair shuffled through the dimly lit, narrow back alleys of Zaun, his voice barely a whisper as he muttered to himself. The air was thick with the scent of decay and the faint aroma of smoke from distant fires. He glanced around at the crumbling buildings that loomed over him, their façades stained and peeling, remnants of a time when they were vibrant and full of life.
The cobblestone streets beneath his feet were riddled with deep cracks and scattered debris, a testament to years of neglect and the harsh realities of life in this part of the city. Shadows danced ominously in the corners where flickering lights struggled to penetrate the gloom, amplifying the sense of isolation that enveloped him in this forgotten corner of Zaun.
His blue eyes lazily scanned the street as he hopped over a passed-out man who had urinated on himself, clutching an empty bottle in his hand. He was dressed in old, dirty rags made from stitched-together leather and brown fabric.
Pausing misstep, Xavier turned to the passed-out man and then to his own state of dress. The man, while poor, was still better dressed than himself, considering the rags he found in a dumpster to use for clothes.
"It wouldn't hurt to check on the man to make sure he was okay and breathing. No other reason." He said.
After searching through the man's pockets, he found a few bronze washers—the city's currency.
Pocketing the money, Xavier looked over to the drunken man's worn boots and then to his bare, bloody, dirty feet. Sure, the boots were a bit big, but they would serve to protect his feet from being cut any further. Not that it mattered.
"Yoink."
After slipping the boots off the unconscious man, Xavier used his large beer belly as a chair and lifted his already-healed right foot to slip on the boot. Once both boots were on his feet and secured as tightly as possible, he continued on his merry way towards… nowhere in particular.
"Let's take stock of my situation… I was heading home after a 7/11 run after a hard day's work and suddenly found myself in some dingy old street after rubbing my eyes. Way to rip off Re: Zero… Oh, and I was aged back five years... I hate being a teenager." Xavier said as he placed a hand on his chest. "Oh, and now my body heals super fast. Like Wolverine levels of fast."
Xavier discovered his amazing healing powers in an unexpected way.
Due to suddenly being snatched out of his world while in mid-step, he accidentally tripped and fell onto a jagged piece of metal that was sticking out of the ground, stabbing through his hand. When he pulled his hand away, he watched in amazement as the large bleeding wound began to stitch itself back together as if it had never existed at all.
Out of morbid curiosity. He stabbed himself again. And again. Just to make sure he was seeing things. But every time he injured himself, the wound healed quickly.
A sudden rumble from his stomach shook Xavier out of his musings. "I'm also hungry and lost in a rank-ass city where it seems like everyone wants to jump me. Why couldn't whatever supernatural entity that cut and pasted my existence have dropped me off in Piltover?"
Xavier was fully aware of his surroundings. He found himself in the world of Arcane, a Netflix series he had watched in his previous life. Although he had enjoyed the show, his interest waned after completing the second season, leaving him with only the knowledge that was presented in the series.
"Why am I here?!" He yelled at the sky as if expecting an answer.
"Oi! Shut up!" A man who was taking a piss in an alleyway yelled.
"How about you make me, you cunt!?" Xavier yelled but paused when he saw two other men walk out of the alleyway while the guy with his dick in his hand zipped up his pants.
"What did ya say?" One of the men said. He had half of his face covered in tattoos. "Ya shitty punk."
"Sorry, let me make myself clear. I asked your chronic masturbater of a friend there to come and shut me up."
"Get him!"
With a quick pivot on his heel, Xavier took off down the shadowy streets of Zaun, his heart racing as he heard the furious shouts of the three angry men behind him. The dank air was thick with the scent of oil and metal, blending with the distant hum of machinery. He couldn't help but let out a manic cackle as he spotted a large wooden crate ahead. In one fluid motion, he vaulted over it, the rough surface scraping against his palm as he rolled onto the cobblestone pavement.
The startled expressions on the faces of passersby were momentarily frozen in shock, their eyes wide as he darted past them, leaving a trail of chaos in his wake. The dark green streets, illuminated only by flickering neon signs, seemed to close in around him as he navigated through the narrow alleys, his pursuers hot on his heels. Adrenaline surged through him, propelling him forward as he relished the thrill of the chase in this gritty urban labyrinth.
With no real idea of where to run to, Xavier zipped in and out of the Undercity's back alleys. The thick, acrid air stung his lungs as he breathed.
As he ran, his eyes darted around the streets in search of anything useful. He quickly grabbed an old, rusty pipe, a piece of dirty leather, and four feet of chain. With movements that felt both unfamiliar and familiar, Xavier used these random items to fashion a makeshift medium-range weapon.
"This should be enough for now." Slamming his feet down, he skidded to a stop at a dead end, his new weapon hidden behind his back. With a grin on his face, Xavier waited for the three men to reach him.
"T-there he is!" The tattooed man pointed at Xavier as he tried to catch his breath. Eventually, his friends finally caught up and glared at him. "Fuck him up!"
As the first of the three men, the man who had started this entire affair, reached Xavier, he swung his right arm to smash his fist into the younger boy's face.
With quick, calm movements, Xavier leaned to the side and lifted his weapon from behind him. Twisting his body, he smashed the chain-wrapped steel bar into the man's stomach.
Not willing to stop there, Xavier pulled his weapon back and cracked it on the back of the man's head as he dry heaved. Knocking him out.
"Hah! Fuck you!" Seeing movement at the corner of his eye, Xavier chuckled and jumped back as the man with the tattoos tried to grab him from behind.
Releasing the crude lock that kept the chain in place, Xavier swung his arm and watched in glee as the chain crashed into the man's head. Sending blood flying through the air.
"Y'all don't know who you're fucking with! I'm literally built different!" Xavier released his best Stitch laugh and leaped over the man's back to wrap the chain around his neck. With a sharp jerk, he began to choke the man with a large, crazed smile.
"Let him go!"
The last of the three men charged at them, but Xavier was ready.
Releasing his weapon, he used the tattooed man's back as a launching pad and slammed his boot into the incoming enemy's face, effectively breaking the man's nose. The force of gravity brought Xavier down to the ground, where he landed on top of his weapon.
"Fuck! Who put this expertly built steel pipe with an attached chain whip here? The nerve!"
"Mah noshe!" The man held his bleeding nose and looked up just in time to see Xavier swing a brick at his head.
A loud crack filled the alley, and a thud quickly followed as the man fell back.
"And then there was one~" Xavier grinned as the man with the tattooed face looked around at his unconscious friends.
At least, he hoped they were unconscious.
"Okay! Enough! Enough… Just let me go." The man said as he saw the madness in Xavier's eyes.
This kid ain't normal. The man thought as he took a step back.
"I don't know. You did inconvenience me a great deal." Xavier said as he slowly walked toward the man. "Compensate me, and I'll let you walk."
Reaching into his large brown jacket, he pulled out another makeshift weapon. It was a rough-looking baton with a sharp blade on one end—an instrument he had crafted as soon as he realized where he was. He had kept it hidden in his pants, prepared for a situation like this.
"Or I'll introduce you to my little friend here."
"Here!" The man threw a small punch full of bronze washers and a few silver cogs.
After rummaging through the pouch, Xavier shrugged and nodded. "Works for me."
The man nodded quickly and turned to his friends. After a moment of hesitation, he abandoned them and ran away. Leaving his two companions to their fates.
"Man, that's cold. Now then, what goodies do you two have for me?"
••o••o••o••
"Hm. Maybe this? Nah, won't work. I need something more flexible. Ooh. That'll do it."
Xavier's hands moved on autopilot as he built a small collapsible shield out of the scraps he found in one of the Undercity's scrap yards.
Another ability he appeared to have acquired from the enigmatic higher entity that had abducted him was an uncanny ability to invent, craft, or create virtually anything his mind could conceive. This talent allowed him to transform mere ideas into tangible reality so long as he had access to the necessary materials.
If he had to compare his new skill to some fictional characters, he would compare it to Tony Stark from the Marvel Universe or Mei Hatsume, a crazy inventor from My Hero Academia. Or even the alien Juryrigg from that Ben 10 show his younger, much more sane, and normal brother used to watch.
Although the constant stream of creative ideas did disrupt his already hectic and unstable mind, Xavier appreciated that he was now a top-tier inventor. His mild ADHD seemed a small price to pay for his success.
"And we're all done." Xavier lifted a shield that resembled the one Captain America had in the movie Infinity War. After pressing a button, the shield collapsed into itself. Making the shield easier to carry in its compact size.
Xavier raised his thick steampunk goggles, which also served as magnifying glasses, and looked out at the distant city of Piltover with a frown. "I bet they have a lot of cool inventions over there, like those Hextech marbles. Wait, no, Jayce and Victor haven't invented those yet."
With a hop, he climbed down the pile of junk he was on and made his way out of the scrapyard.
It's been two months since he first arrived in the world of Runterra, and Xavier has made quite a name for himself through the streets of Zaun.
Some people called him crazy, while others referred to him as a genius. However, everyone seemed to agree on giving him a rather amusing nickname.
The Crazed Mechanic.
With his ability to create whatever he wanted and his superhuman levels of healing, Xavier had moved through the city of Zaun with little care for the established rules and hierarchy.
With knowledge of the weaponry from his home world, as well as various fictional stories and their unique arms, Xavier had the ability to create any weapon or piece of equipment he desired. Of course, this was contingent on having the necessary resources. Nonetheless, he could produce a close imitation of whatever he envisioned.
Using this skill, he began selling weapons and gear to the highest bidders through the Lanes.
At first, everyone scoffed or laughed as he tried to sell his top-tier inventions.
After all, he was but only a 15-year-old kid in their eyes.
A snot-nosed kid.
A snot-nosed kid with some interesting-looking stuff.
Stuff worth stealing.
Unfortunately for those who tried to take his wares without payment, they found themselves as free advertisement for him to demonstrate his weapons to the folks of Zaun.
Sure, he may have severely injured or maimed a few opportunistic and greedy individuals.
But hey, sacrifices had to be made for his pursuit of making that bag.
Following his captivating demonstrations, Xavier found himself surrounded by greedy customers, all vying to purchase his, for Zaun, cutting-edge weapons and meticulously crafted gear. The hunger in their eyes was clear as they gathered, each one drawn in by the allure of his innovative creations and weapons. Weapons and gear like his were a rarity to find in the south without crossing over to the north.
And in Zaun, having strong weapons meant power.
The income from his inventions allowed him to acquire better resources to create even more impressive products to sell.
However, he kept his best inventions for himself.
Additionally, he purchased a small shack in the Wharf district to use as his home. It was the most he could afford at the moment.
Despite his success, Xavier was not wealthy at all. He only had enough money to get by without struggling, unlike the vast majority of Zaunites.
Still, he didn't mind living in a shack for now. Considering that other orphans his age lived in cardboard boxes or cold alleyways, he felt he was doing fantastic in comparison to them.
"Nothing like home." Xavier grinned as he looked over his shabby house located outside the edge of Zaun's Promenade level. It was tucked away, and out of sight, so no excitable looters could come and steal from him.
As he stepped inside, he examined the interior of his home. It was well-furnished and clean, a stark contrast to much of Zaun. Though he might not be entirely stable, he couldn't tolerate living in a dirty house.
That's why he immediately noticed the large, muddy footprints leading into his living room.
Muddy footprints that he didn't make.
"You live well, Xavier. Or would you prefer the name Crazed Mechanic?" Silco, the future self-proclaimed King of the Undercity, was sitting in Xavier's custom-made rolling chair as if he owned it and his little house.
Seeing one of Arcane's primary antagonists, Xavier frowned.
Not out of fear.
But out of annoyance from Silco sitting in his chair.
"Man… you're one ugly son of a bitch."
<<|||>>
AN: Love it? Hate it? Gimmie your thoughts. Give them to me. I want them.