Chapter 31 – Beneath the Green Light
Zaun did not sleep.
It pulsed, like a wounded beast under skin, leaking poison into the air with every hiss of vented chem...
Pipes twisted like iron arteries through the undercity, sweating grease and sludge into the cracked concrete veins of its districts...
The streets above were restless — flickering with neon decay and the fractured lives of those who called this poisoned place home...
But deep below that, beyond the reach of enforcers and light,
The Hollow —
a place carved out of forgotten stone and choked with secrets. No maps marked it. No law reached it. Even among the chem-barons, it was sacred ground.
Here, the air was dense with humidity and vaporized stimulant.
Filtration fans coughed feebly in the corners, their grilles clogged with green residue.
Pale chem-lamps illuminated the meeting chamber in ghostly tones, casting elongated shadows across rusted walls stitched with ancient weld lines.
The room smelled of burning oil, old blood, and ambition long since curdled.
At the head of the warped metal table sat
Silco
one eye fixed, the other blazing with an inner fire.
He didn't speak.
He didn't need to.
Not yet.
The others filtered in, one by one, each a different face of Zaun's fractured rule.
Finn
arrived first, all swagger and silver rings, his boots loud against the grating. He dropped into his chair with a scoff and a smirk, twirling a stolen Piltover pendant between his fingers.
Next came
Renni
cold and lethal, her knives visible, deliberate. She took her seat silently, eyes sharp as her weapons.
Smeech
followed — massive, breathing through a crude chem-mask, his body braced with steel and synth muscle. His voice, when it came, would be low and ugly.
Chross
shuffled in behind, skeletal and hunched, with a modulator around his throat that buzzed every time he coughed. He blinked rapidly under a monocle wired into his skull.
Margot
floated like perfume behind them all, clad in layers of silk over toxinproof armor. Her smile was poison — warm, inviting, and entirely without mercy.
Last was Silco, already seated.
The room fell into a tense hush as the doors clanked shut behind them, sealing them into that boiling, flickering underworld chamber. The Hollow didn't just house meetings — it swallowed them.
It was Finn who finally broke the silence, as he always did.
"So…" he said, slamming the pendant on the table, "who here isn't going to toast the best strike in a decade?"
No one toasted.
Smeech grunted."We killed academics. That's not a victory. That's a message."
Chross leaned in."And messages invite questions. The Council will sharpen its knives."
Renni rolled her eyes."Let them try. They'll have to find us first."
Margot laced her fingers together."I prefer when we're not drawing this much attention. But I admit — the flames were beautiful."
Silco exhaled smoke. Still silent. Still watching.
Finn turned toward him."You're quiet. This was your plan, wasn't it? Torch their pride. Shake them up."
Silco's voice came slow, like creeping mold."No."
One word.
He let it settle.
"I didn't light the match. But I built the chamber full of gas."
He stood then, rising like smoke from a ruin, his mismatched eyes cutting through the shadows.
"Piltover has grown fat. Lazy. Blind. They build towers so tall, they forget there's a city beneath them."
He paced slowly around the room, boots clicking on metal.
"We reminded them."
Finn leaned back, unimpressed."They'll send the Enforcers. Talis is probably building a Hextech cannon as we speak."
Silco stopped behind Finn's chair."Let him."
A beat passed.
Silco stepped into the center of the room.
"We are not rebels. We are not vandals. We are rot."
He tapped the table once. A small metal tremor.
"Rot doesn't explode. It spreads. Quietly. It softens foundations until even the proudest spires collapse under their own weight."
Margot smiled, lips parting slightly."You always were good with metaphors."
Renni sharpened her dagger on a whetstone."So what now? We wait?"
Silco nodded."Yes. Let them panic. Let them argue over blame. While they rebuild their walls, we will seep through the cracks."
He returned to his seat, a phantom settling into his throne.
"Zaun does not need a war. Zaun needs patience. Subtlety. And the will to act when it matters most."
Smeech gave a mechanical snort."You'll know when it matters, then?"
Silco's one good eye gleamed."Oh… I always do."
Around the table, silence fell once more.
And beneath the flickering green lights of the Hollow, the city's true rulers waited. Watching. Planning.
Not for revenge.
But for ascension.
He exhaled."…Zaun will rise."