Jinx's workshop was steeped in a thick, acrid tension. At the center of it all, tied to the battered old sofa with a mess of colorful ropes and unnecessarily complex knots, sat Caitlyn Kiramman. Beside her, Mylo's doll watched with its perpetual look of silent judgment.
In front of her, Jinx paced back and forth, her mind a whirlwind of confusion, anger, and paranoia. She juggled the Hextech gem, tossing it from one hand to the other, its blue light reflecting in her restless eyes. Sevika's words, venomous and precise, still echoed in her head.
"I guess she replaced you."
The image of Vi with an Enforcer girl.
("She cares about that Enforcer. She only came back for the gem.") Mylo's voice, mocking and cruel, began whispering at the edges of her hearing.
Had Vi only returned for the stupid rock? Not for her? The thought spun inside her like a knife.
Meanwhile, in a corner, Kaen Vexis was having an intimate moment with The Beast of Noise. Sitting on the floor, the modified bass in his lap, he cradled it like a lost child. "Oh, my precious," he whispered, his monotone voice dripping with unsettling affection. "Did they leave you all alone? Were you afraid? Don't worry, your artistic father is here. I'll never abandon you again for a questionably ethical medical consultation."
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Jinx's posture stiffen, her gaze unfocused, lost in a battle only she could see. The air around her seemed to vibrate, ready to explode.
With a sigh that sounded more like paternal resignation than concern, Kaen carefully set the bass down. He stood, walked up behind Jinx, and—with the precision of a martial arts master and the delicacy of a brick—he delivered a gentle but firm karate chop to the top of her head.
Pok!
The strike wasn't hard, but it was unexpected enough to shatter the trance. Jinx froze, both hands flying to her head, her face twisting into sheer confusion. The ghosts evaporated.
"!?!"
Kaen looked at her, his expression as flat as ever. "Calm yourself," he said, his tone that of someone explaining a simple concept to a very slow child. "Don't be foolish. Circular thinking is artistically unproductive. If you want answers, stop talking to your imaginary friends and ask the primary source."
He jerked his thumb toward the sofa. "Right there. Your sister's girlfriend."
Caitlyn, who had been struggling with her bindings, went rigid. "This is a misunderstanding!" she blurted, her voice laced with indignation.
Jinx turned, her eyes sharpening with a new, focused contempt.
"You must be Powder, right?" Caitlyn said, trying to appeal to a past she didn't understand.
The effect was immediate. Jinx's face twisted into a mask of pure rage. "DON'T CALL ME THAT!" she screamed, her voice a shriek that made the air vibrate. "I'm JINX! Powder fell down a hole!"
Caitlyn recoiled instinctively, rattled by the outburst. After a beat, she recovered her composure. "Your sister came back for you," she said firmly. "She didn't know anything about the Hextech gem. Jinx, listen. We can fix this."
"It's a trick!" Jinx shot back, though a seed of doubt had been planted. "You're playing me!"
Frustrated, Caitlyn cast a burning glare toward Kaen, who had already returned to his corner, polishing his bass, enjoying the family drama like it was a prime-time soap opera. When he noticed her gaze, he interpreted it not as a plea for help—but as a request. A musical request.
"Ah," he said, nodding sagely. "I understand. The atmosphere is too tense. It needs the soothing touch of a true artist."
Before either woman could protest, he slung the bass over his shoulder and struck a chord. What came out was a sonic abomination—like ten cats being run over by a freight train.
Jinx and Caitlyn froze, united for the first time in shared auditory horror. The sound was so fundamentally awful it cut through the tension like a blade. And strangely, it worked. Kaen's white noise of chaos drowned out the white noise inside Jinx's head. She stood still, blinking.
When the dying wail of the chord finally faded, Caitlyn, resigned to her surreal situation, tried again. "The Firelights," she said, her tone pragmatic. "Weren't they working for Silco?"
Jinx snorted at the stupidity of the question. "Of course not. They're just annoying flies. Idiots with masks."
"Then," Caitlyn pressed, her worry for Vi outweighing everything else, "do you know where they might have taken her?"
There was a short silence. "No idea," Jinx said with a sour grimace. The thought of Vi in Ekko's hands irritated her endlessly. "But they won't hurt her. Their leader's a coward."
Seeing the two of them talking without screaming, Kaen decided this was entirely thanks to him. "Looks like they're getting along better," he remarked suddenly, his flat tone full of unearned pride. "As I suspected, my artistic skills are celestial. My music unites souls."
He earned a death glare from Jinx and a look of sheer resignation from Caitlyn.
Caitlyn sighed, the rope biting into her skin. She looked at the two lunatics facing each other—Jinx irritated, Kaen smug—and her eyes slid to the Hextech gem Jinx was holding again. A desperate idea formed in her mind.
"You have to let me return it," she said, her voice serious and steady.
The declaration was so unexpected it drew both of their attention.
"What?" Jinx blinked, baffled by the stupidity coming from the girl tied up comically on the sofa.
"If the Enforcers are getting more aggressive, that's why," Caitlyn began, her voice gathering strength. "I know I'm not in a position to ask this. But if they start making weapons with the Hextech gem, this cycle of violence will never end. This is our best chance to make things right! I have a friend on the Council. I'll take the gem to him. He'll listen."
Kaen and Jinx listened. And then, in unison, they got bored. Jinx started fiddling with one of her grenade prototypes. Kaen sat back down and began tuning (or more likely detuning) his bass again. They ignored her completely.
Caitlyn stared at them, incredulous. Frustration overwhelmed her. She bit her lip and began softly banging her forehead against the sofa's backrest, a gesture of absolute despair.
Just when she thought the situation couldn't get more humiliating, Kaen stood. He walked over to her. For a moment, she thought he was going to untie her—that he had finally come to his senses.
Instead, he grabbed her under the arms and lifted her off the sofa (still bound) as if she were an inconvenient pillow, plopping her onto the floor with a soft thump.
He stretched, then sprawled across the sofa, taking up all the space.
"This is my sacred place of rest," he said, his monotone as he settled in. "Where my artistic inspirations are born." He paused, looking at her sitting helplessly on the ground. "So, shoo, shoo." He waved a hand vaguely, as if swatting away a lazy cat.
A scream of pure frustration caught in Caitlyn's throat. She was trapped in a madhouse.
---------
The pain in Vi's jaw was a constant hammer, but the shock of seeing Ekko's face beneath the Firelight mask had eclipsed any physical discomfort. The reunion had been a whirlwind of accusations, old memories, and a clumsy yet desperately needed hug that had closed a wound both had carried for years.
Now, past the initial disbelief, she followed Ekko out of the small room where they had held her.
What greeted her stopped her in her tracks. She blinked, staring upward. Leaves. Green branches bathed in a light she had never expected to see so deep in Zaun. Not the chemical glow of the Lanes, nor the flickering neon of the Carries. It was sunlight. Dim, filtered through a massive circular opening high above.
She realized the room she had left was built into a structure perched on a tree. A real tree, rising defiantly from the metal-and-dirt ground. Its branches reached toward the faraway light. Around it, a refuge had been built. An entire community, with spiraling walkways, small shacks pieced together from scrap, and warm lanterns hanging from the branches. People moved about—working, living, children laughing. And in the air, Firelights glided by on their hoverboards.
Vi's breath caught. "Is that… a real tree?" she asked, her voice full of awe.
"Pretty cool, huh?" Ekko said, leaning against a railing. "When I saw it the first time, I knew this was the place. If a seed could survive here, so could we." His gaze swept over his home. "When Vander…" he paused, the memory heavy, "…died, Silco flooded the streets with Shimmer. Didn't care what it did to people." He nodded toward the community below. "Most of them were addicts or victims. They needed a safe place to start over."
A couple of children playing below spotted them and waved. Vi waved back with a faint smile, though her heart felt heavy.
"I should've been here," she murmured, her voice thick with guilt. "For you. For everyone."
"That's a good way to drive yourself crazy," Ekko said softly but firmly. "If I'd gone with you that day," he added, thinking of the night they tried to rescue Vander, "maybe none of this would've happened."
"Or maybe you'd be dead," Vi shot back, the memory of that night a raw scar. "Or different." Powder's face—Jinx's face—twisted in rage and ecstasy, flashed in her mind.
Ekko sighed, his expression hardening. "Powder's gone, Vi. Only Jinx is left. And she's with Silco."
"You're wrong," Vi insisted, turning to him. "I talked to her. I can reach her."
"You can't," Ekko replied, his conviction unshakable.
"I know my sister," Vi said, her voice clinging to desperate hope.
Ekko looked at her, years of pain in his eyes. "There's something else I need to show you," he said softly.
He led her down the walkways, descending the tree. There, on a cleaned, smooth wall, was a massive mural. Painted with extraordinary care. Faces. Dozens of faces stared back at her. Benzo. Vander. Mylo. Claggor. A younger version of herself. And beside it, Powder, with her wide eyes and blue hair.
"These are all the ones we lost," Ekko said, his voice low, reverent. "The price of our freedom. Some because of Enforcers. Most because of Silco."
He turned to Vi, his gaze sharp as steel. "Your sister works for him not because she has to—but because she wants to." He gestured to the mural. "She chose her side a long time ago. I'm sorry, Vi. But that's who she is now."
Vi stared at Powder's painted face. Denial warred with the harsh truth Ekko laid bare. As her eyes traced the familiar faces, another thought struck her.
"The guy at the tower," she said suddenly. "The one with the white-silver hair. He was with her." She looked at Ekko. "Who is he? I've never seen him in Zaun."
Ekko frowned, recalling the chaotic fight. "I don't know. Came out of nowhere. I thought he was one of Silco's new recruits, but…" He paused, remembering the strange man who had split a hoverboard in half with his bare hand. He shook his head. "No idea who he is. I just know he's dangerous. And he's with Jinx."
The worry over this mysterious ally swirled in Vi's mind, adding another impossible layer to the situation. She was about to ask more when another thought hit her like a bolt of lightning.
Her eyes widened. She spun, clutching her head, scanning the place as if waking from a dream.
"Shit! Cupcake!"
Ekko blinked, confused by her sudden panic. "What? Cupcake?"
"Caitlyn! The girl who was with me! The Enforcer!" Vi shouted, her urgency rising. "She was at the tower! When you guys showed up… shit! She got left behind!" She clutched her hair, pacing in agitated circles. Panic consumed her. The image of the uptight yet brave cadet, stuck on a platform with an unpredictable Jinx and her new, bizarre companion—
Her eyes went even wider with horror.
"Alone with Jinx… and with the weirdo with the white hair!"
Ekko looked at her with exasperation, wondering how Vi was only now realizing her one Piltover ally was probably in the middle of a hornet's nest (Jinx and Kaen).
"We have to go back!" Vi said, already sprinting for the exit. "Come on!"