Maintaining normalcy is what tipped us off. For a while, no one thought anything of it. But the more time we spent together, people close to us started to raise probing questions.
"Got time to talk?" Claggor approaches my desk with purpose. He's holding a notebook big enough to be a dictionary.
Sevika knows that he's my brother, however, that didn't stop her from giving him a warning look. Sensing it, I gestured towards the chair behind him. Claggor avoided eye contact with Sevika and, instead, focused on me. Finishing the last line on the electricity report, I felt my scowl deepen as I hastily signed the lines. Upon looking up, Claggor met my gaze with equal intensity. Instantly, I'm hit with shame. What am I doing?
"Claggor, how are you doing?" I asked with renewed energy that wasn't at all forced. Straightening my back, I tried to release my scowl, but the recent influx of electricity requests is becoming more than I can handle for now.
The inventors want electricity without confirmation of their functionality. I had to set up a system of auditors that will investigate these inventors. There are cheaters who would scam me out of the power that I sacrificed everything for. Granted, I have to see to it personally who is responsible and then plan on further securing who can and can't use my electricity. Then, there is the competition that needs to be utterly destroyed. But first and foremost, I have to see to my brother.
"Been waiting to talk to you about this," he began as he started flipping through the notebook. There are no footnotes on the pages, so he's looking for something from memory. "Here," he stopped on a page. "That yellow flower you gave me? It can clean the air we breathe."
That made me sit on the edge of my chair, his chair, my throne. I need to get used to this.
"Yeah, it's pretty hard to believe, huh?" Claggor nods as he's feeding off of my astonishment.
Previously, when I gave him the flower, I had it in mind that the smell alone would overpower the fumes. Now, he's telling me that it can eliminate the odor entirely?
"By cleaning the air, you mean the smell of the flower? Or is it something deeper?" I inquired with my hands on the desk.
"It's much deeper than the smell," he promised. "The pollen in the flower breaks away the very moment when they bloom. When they make contact with the air, the chemicals in the pollen react to the fumes in the mines like fire. It just eats all the filth up and leaves behind a gas, almost identical to oxygen." He flips a few more pages and places the notebook on my desk. "That gas mixes with oxygen, increasing its density."
I stood up and peered down to where he's pointing. Sevika took up interest and stood closer to us for herself.
"We found this out together, my mentor and I. If we plant enough of these flowers around Vaun, we can purify the air for good," he explains with zeal.
"Let me see this." I rotated the book and began skimming over the notes within. Claggor was more than happy to let me have it. In fact, he sat back in his chair, being quite satisfied that his agenda was being taken in by an obsessed revolutionist. It was clever, he definitely bought his time, done his research, and executed his plan perfectly. Before, I was ready to fall asleep in my chair, then instantly endure Sevika's reprobation for my laziness. Then Claggor came along and ruined everything with his life-changing solution to the pollution.
"You need a chamber of your own." I stated as I began to visualize the mechanisms as I scanned the pages.
"That's right, and I have it all figured out too," he said with the kind of confidence that I've been waiting to hear from him.
Looking up, I asked. "You have the blueprints?"
"Yep," he confirmed.
I closed the book. "And the materials?"
"Everything's set," he reported with his laced, meaty fingers.
I look up to Sevika.
"Go ahead, I'll finish the paperwork," she promised.
"Thanks." I hugged her waist, and she squeezed me with her one arm.
"Don't change the world too quickly, most people don't like change," she cryptically recommends, and she pats my back.
"If they know what's good for them, they'll get used to it." I boldly claimed as I released her and handed Claggor his notebook.
We walked out of the office with a new mission: construct a new chamber.
"I saw those little chambers downstairs," he acknowledged as we lowered to the first floor. "Kinda thinking of something a bit bigger than that."
"That's what testing is for, we'll adjust as we go along. Above all else, it has to be efficient, size matters here." I stated as we walked past the assembly area.
"I see what you mean," he commented as he eyed the kids working with robotic efficiency.
He opened the door to the streets, and we were greeted by the guards. Taking a look at us, they didn't pull any passive-aggressive gestures or any provoking looks. They allowed us to pass without much of a challenge. A few looked us over to size us up, but other than that, they practiced the respectful nods of acknowledgement. It's because of Claggor. This guy has grown quite a bit, even though he's been slimming down. Instead of being the soft-looking bear of a boy, he's more like a hulking tower of muscle. I've spent so much time away from the Drop that I almost forgot what he looked like from a distance. There was a day when I was thinking of hiring him to be an additional bodyguard. As soon as he turned his once pudgy face towards me, that's when I knew I had to be around my family more. I've barely noticed his steady transformation. We've all been changing, in our own ways.
"You have to keep an eye on those thugs in the front," he warned as he kept watch around us as we walked the streets.
"I know, I've got something in mind for them." I confessed, as I do have an idea to enforce obedience in them all, but to go forward with it, I would have to abandon any notions of regret afterwards.
"Whatever you have to do," he replied. I tried not to look up at him in surprise, it was difficult. He is the guy that always bugged me about being too brutal with people when they irritate me. Quite frankly, he helped show me ways to achieve some degree of restraint. They were received more as suggestions than anything, but at least he tried. "They're still Silco's people."
"Thanks, I have an idea for them all tomorrow." I disclosed as the Last Drop drew closer. "But for now, we have your chamber to build."
Changing the subject back to the project eases the tension for a new one. The bar is busy with patrons, not as packed, but active. Sitting at the counter is my favorite jackass. As soon as I began to formulate a plan to ruin his talks with Vander, Claggor's hands fell on my shoulders.
"Not today, get moving," he ordered as he used his superior size to push me through the crowd. Despite the glances towards our way, I couldn't help but read them. They seem to be controlling their gestures while looking over documents. Something is going down. Given that I'm the head of electricity, I have to know everything that they are discussing. I'm going to have a talk with both of them after I'm done with Claggor.
"Watch your step," he warned as we reached the stairs. As usual, I glide down the steps with grace.
"I'm going to try that," he called down.
That's when an icy sensation hit my gut. "You really think that's a good idea? Wouldn't want you to drop through the staircase."
"Just watch," he boldly stated as he tried to imitate my movements. To my surprise, he managed to make his frame move with more agility than I gave him credit for. However, it came at the cost of noise that, thankfully, didn't overpower the usual noise at the surface.
"Willing to bet that anyone will fall through the staircase now." I said as I walked over to the parts aligned along the wall.
"It'll be fine." He clapped his hands and rubbed them together. "Now it's time to work."
Looking up at him, he seems like a completely different person. Maybe he's just excited that we either finally got to spend time together or that his personal project is getting some attention. Either way, it doesn't matter. Improving the air quality is pretty important, I think. For the next hour, we prepared for the construction of what came to be known as the Purifier.
"This is going to need smaller tools to finish." I noticed as I looked over the blueprint.
"Got you covered." Claggor lifted a toolbox filled with all the tools needed to complete his design.
"Good." Looking back at the blueprint, I've noticed that within the container is a design that is far more intricate than my chamber. It's an incubator of sorts. The process of constructing it is complex, to say the least.
"Mind telling me what this thing is?" I asked as I pointed to the thing that's worthy of being a separate project all on its own.
"That is the little chamber within the chamber. Don't worry about that, I already made it with my mentor. I'll go get it." He hurried off as I was left dumbfounded. It would have taken a while, but I would have loved to attempt to realize the design from scratch with him.
"Here it is," he announced with a wide grin as he handed me the little chamber. Nice to see that so many bright minds are taking inspiration from me without getting toasted.
It's a cone-cylinder-shaped design with its own foundation that looks to be fitted within the chamber itself. If I am to foresee the end result of this, I would have to share profits with his mentor, whoever that is. Need to identify the mentor without Claggor's involvement, this seems too sudden. A proper mentor would challenge their apprentice to find the solution at every step, much like what Hal did.
"Owen?" he called out as his grin faded.
Snapping out of my recollection, I forced myself to focus. "Let's get started."
From that point, it was as simple as putting pieces together. Honestly, it was disheartening. What I had in mind was hours of brainstorming creative solutions to realizing a design, instead, the fun part was done without me. Still, at least we got to do something together. There is also something that bugs me. While we were working, Claggor kept looking over at my hands whenever I grabbed a pen. It was only to place faint lines on the surface to measure distance. Was he that anal about me marking up his chamber? Now that I think about it, no, it can't be. Was he trying to see if I would use the formulas on this chamber? There wouldn't be much of a point, it would make things far too easy. Besides, I want to get closer to Claggor, it feels as if I haven't made much of an attempt to know him as a person.
"Seems like you really didn't need my help." I called out after I steadily allowed Claggor to take the lead in constructing the chamber. He had just begun to place the fully grown yellow flower into the smaller chamber. Basically, he planted the flower into the socket of the small chamber and sealed it.
"You are my confidence, you know," he plainly stated as he carefully placed the smaller chamber into the socket of the main chamber.
"I would be flattered if it wasn't so sad." I retorted as I leaned on the bench.
That got Claggor to snicker, and he almost dropped the chamber. "Mylo told me you were verbally brutal."
"Did he put you up to using my aura as a channel to power your self-esteem?" I elaborated.
"Uh? Um." He placed the finished chamber on the bench and looked around. "What was all of that?"
"Typically, I don't like being used." I looked over at the purifier. "But since you're family, I don't mind at all, it's just interesting that it happens to be you."
The thought of Claggor being used as a mole to relay information to his mentor is a scary thought. I need to confront his mentor without tipping Claggor off. This vague warning should tickle his brain that I'm going after his boss. We just stood there, looking at each other. Claggor doesn't seem intimidated in the slightest, but embarrassed that he might have made a mistake.
"Well, the purifier is done." He decided to completely ignore that statement, which confirmed my suspicion. Oh, Claggor, why did it happen to be you? To ease the tension, I decided to let him off easy.
"So it is, for now. You have to run trials to see if—"
"It works? Yeah, I'm way ahead of you, thanks, man." He interrupted me as he stepped forward to hug me. Repressing the urge to hurt the guy and receive a possible meaty fist to the face in retaliation, I step into his hug. It was over as quickly as it started. "I'll let you know how it goes, thanks again."
I watched him gather the purifier and scramble up the stairs. Kinda broke my heart there, big boy. Maybe he was just eager to get to work on the purifier. But as I made my way up the stairs, it got me thinking, he definitely didn't need my help. Claggor is a studious guy. Not inherently brilliant, but dedicated, driven by his affinity for nature to learn. With his love of nature, he has also discovered, and hopefully acknowledged, his proficiency with machinery. Wait a minute, we all have some interest in machines. Could Vander somehow set this up? Did he intentionally choose us all and nurture us to someday become the engineers of the future? When I got to the bar floor, I saw Vander speaking with a decorated Piltover officer. It's a crazy idea, but the more I look at Vander and his assured posture in front of the officer, the more I get the feeling that he's more cunning than I thought. Having the officer here seems to have everyone on edge. Granted, they didn't leave a good impression the last time they showed up here. The officer placed a thick envelope on the counter and turned around. That's when his gaze fell on me. In that moment, his movements seem to fight against themselves as he can't decide on what to do from here. Walk up to me? Or return to his post? Thankfully, he chose to leave. Walking up to the counter, I sat on the stool. Vander kept his eyes on the envelope, and he wiped the counter to his right absentmindedly.
"I'm guessing that it's not a good conversation." I opened up as I looked down to see the letter addressed to me.
"I've been wanting to discuss this with you privately, but since this is here, I guess now is the time," he grimly stated.
Grabbing the letter, I began to open it. "You could have just scheduled an appointment, you know. Would have cleared out the office for you."
"That's the point, you shouldn't have to do that for me," he humbly stated as he held his eyes on me as I read the letter.
"And I wouldn't have listened anyway." I said as I absorbed the offer to train trusted candidates to be Zaun's first police force. My forehead grew heavy with a scowl as my brain rushed to process what this could mean.
"Just give it some thought, for now, it's just an offer that we can accept or refuse," he began with a measured tone. Gert placed a plate of empty glasses, and Vander took them, one by one, and started on fulfilling the orders.
With the sounds of laughter echoing off the walls and idle banter washing over me, I can't help but feel the haunting sensation consume me. That future is creeping ever so closer, it's relentless. Every careful move I try to make to avoid it, Fate finds a way to force it closer no matter what. It was fate's hand that attempted to merge that reality with ours. It took Viktor, plus his alternate, to stop it. Now, Fate is trying a subtler way. Is this Fate's way of communicating with me? Is Fate trying to speak through the council to offer me an alternative way to fulfill that horrible future? Glasses clinked against each other as Gert took them on the plate and set off.
"What do you think?" he asks as he places coins in his safe under the counter.
"With our own organized police force, we can officially call Zaun an independent city nation." I tap the letter on my left palm. "This is a big step."
"It is a step not to rush. We need to manage every candidate for the position." Silco stated as he sat on the stool next to me.
"It has to be an army." I acknowledged. As expected, the two turned to me with their own brands of astonishment. Vander is more appalled, while Silco is somewhat amazed.
"That is a mighty big step there, boy." Silco jabbed, but if I looked at his face, I doubted that I would see irritation.
Vander backed away and rubbed his temples.
"The council is going to want to put their people in our army, stationing their influence within our borders. We would be agreeing that nothing has changed." I exposed the council's intentions, easing both of them.
Vander approached the counter and rested his hands on the surface. "You trust no one in Piltover?"
"I trust us, and that'll have to do. I'm going to hold onto this and won't respond until the three of us have enough alone time to discuss it further." I promised.
Vander nods as he settles a troubling gaze on me. "Thank you, I'm going to need a shot after that."
"Make it a double?" Silco asks as he shifts his attention to Vander.
Vander appeared surprised that Silco would ask for a moment alone, but I obliged and stepped away back towards the basement. If I were to assemble an army, that would propel me right into Fate's hands. But there is no other way to secure our true independence from Piltover. I walked in front of the bench and knelt below. Powder's bullets are right there, but they are the rubber bullets. If Zaun is going to rise up from Piltover's oppressive shadow, it needs a military that will be feared, and from fear, respect will follow. To get there, I need to be feared more than I am currently. Walking into the bunkbed room, I sought after Powder's bed. Getting the feeling that she kept them in an obvious place, I reached under her bed and felt around. When my fingers crashed into a metal box, I clenched my jaw and pulled the box towards me. Upon opening them, there they are, a box filled with perfectly constructed bullets. When I stood to my feet, I felt the weight, they are real. It's time to make my own bombs. I need to be the new bogeyman of Zaun, a monster. Placing the box on the bench, I began pulling apart the bullets diligently, piling the powder in one spot as I went along. Powder is such a great sneak, there is no way she could have done all of this without us knowing. However, I have been gone for a while, she could have made them without the others pestering her. Ekko probably helped. No, now that I think of it, Ekko doesn't seem the type to enjoy making bullets. He's not as eager at the idea of killing as Powder is. My hands fell, I still haven't fully addressed that. Powder's desire to be who I used to be frightens me. Thinking about it, I wonder what's worse, the Jinx I know or the Powder that wants to embrace my old ways? Sighing, I return my focus to the workbench and try something new. Without ink, I visualized the formula to mold metal like clay, and wouldn't you know it, it's just as easy as using my hands. If I had shown this to Claggor, he would flip. It didn't take long for me to make the miniature grenades of my design. Being small enough to hold between my fingers, they will make excellent motivators to my importance in Zaun. As I shove them in my many pockets, I formulate a plan to approach all who I deem fitting for my upcoming army. I need to dive below Zaun. Singed has to either join me or die, there can be no other alternative.
When I left the Last Drop, I marched over to my factory. Everything is set, all I have to do is believe that it will all fall into place. The eyes of the former thugs drew to me, like a cat cornering a rat. Standing in front of them, they showed a different behavior now. Like a dog rebelling against its master, they are all testing me. They won't let me through without abiding by the strength that has carried me up to this point.
A scarred creature, covered in unique grid tattoos? Fashion changes around here too frequently. One day, idiots had their mouths covered with metal cups while wearing suits. Another day, there are freaks who have tubes where their natural veins should be, pumping that green trash through them. The tattooed woman stood over me. I have to stop doing that.
"Can't work for a kid who's daydreami-"
I interrupted her by throwing the smallest bomb I have in her face. She fell back screaming curses in the air. Thankfully, these people still think stuff like this is funny. She rolled along the ground as she held her hand to her face, continuing to scream curses. Normally, I would have joined in on the show, but I am on a mission, and I can't get high off of my own levity.
"Anyways, congratulations, everyone." I started as I pulled at my straps with my thumbs.
They all decided to pay closer attention, as I am paying them.
"You've been conscripted into the police force." I announced.
A variety of "What?" was mumbled and grumbled from rough face to cybernetic jaw. But what was universal was that they didn't appear all too happy, even the woman on the ground stopped to glare at me again. The bomb was more like a firecracker. Didn't blast a hole in her face, however, it will leave a nasty burn on the bridge of her nose.
"For Zaun, of course." I followed up. That's when their irritation turned to confusion, speculative of truly believing what they are hearing.
"You mean, we get to police ourselves?" a skinny guy with spikes on the side of his head asks.
"Exactly, it's the only way to tell Piltover that we're serious about our independence." I explained as I laced my fingers to my chest. I manage to slip in another small, pea-sized bomb between my fingers, just in case.
"And they didn't send over any papers? They always want things on paper." A sickly-looking guy asks, he is the only one who wears glasses.
"They did." I wave dismissively. "Won't sign it. We don't even have an army yet."
They nodded at me not signing it but froze in astonishment when I mentioned the army part.
"Well, yeah, we don't have an army." A heavy-set woman with yellow eyes said. "Where are we going to find one?"
The woman on the floor rose to her feet, still rubbing at her wound. She's pretty thin. I can see the muscles in her arms, but that's more due to her lack of nutrition. The rest of her, though, is pretty toned.
"You all are it." I said as I kept my eyes on her. "All we need are guns."
"And where are we going to get those?" the woman in front of me asks as she lowers her hand from her face, revealing the bloodshot eyes and the black soot on the bridge of her nose.
"One of you is going to bring one of Piltover's rifles back." I instructed, and finally, I'm getting some modicum of respect, as they all are paying attention. "It will have to be the slickest one of you. Bring someone who can watch your back without looking suspicious. Only if you need backup."
A heavy-set dude with a bushy beard stood up. "I'll go." And off he went down the street.
"Huh." I watched him walk in a straight line, as people know better than to stand in his way.
"I'll go with him." The skinny guy with spikes on the side of his head volunteered as he ran after the big guy.
"A hell of a duo." I commented as I returned my attention back to everyone else. "In the meanwhile, someone look after the factory. The rest of you, follow me, Singed needs to be dealt with."
They all grew silent after hearing that name.
"Are you serious?" A random thug with black eyes spoke up. "Do you know what he's capable of?"
"Turning people into mutated abominations, I know. Think of this as your initiation. Survive this, and not only are you a police officer for Zaun, you are also in the army for life." I offered. As I look around, I can see the gears turning in each of their heads. The question is, who will be the first one to turn down the offer? Sure, they can just say no and not go, however, they would appear weak in front of everyone here. Surrounding me are the front line of Zaun, veterans of the harsh life here. No one among us hasn't reached 10 without doing something extremely stupid and dangerous. By the small packs we formed, we would do one stupidly dangerous act after another, just to prove that we could. Every day was a test to prove that we are the ones others can fear and rely on if they have nowhere else to go. The people of Zaun are hard, but not heartless, that includes the thugs around here. Some might actually destroy you, while others will rough you up one day, then adopt you the next, as if nothing happened. For that, I'm glad I met Vi. As we made our way to the depths of Zaun, my following grew. Word must have spread as we marched through the city's streets. I left with a dozen Zaunites, and as we close in on the cave that leads to the belly of Zaun, I have nearly three dozen behind me now. They spoke of taking Zaun in their hands, protecting THEIR city from Piltover. The selfishness, the greed, and the need to spread senseless violence all melted away at the promise of power that will be within our hands. Piltover's hold over us is over. We arrived at the opening to a large cave. The only source of light that illuminated the environment was the cracks in the walls and ceilings, bringing in the sunlight. It glows softly around the stalagmites that hug the walls. The sunrays seem more like mists of light due to the moisture in the air.
"It's been a while since I came here." A slightly mutated guy, with the mutation growing under his jaw, said with a wheeze. I didn't bother to get a close look at it, most of us didn't.
Huddling within the shadows are the familiar vagrants of Zaun. The broken and forgotten of us all. They reminded us all of what happens when you lose fight after fight, what happens when you fail to make something of yourself. But more importantly, what happens to those who shined the brightest too quickly? There are childhood legends rotting down here. If you've ever crossed them when you were a kid, you were either behind them or you were a spectator. You never wanted to stand against them, they were the ones. Now they are here, lost in their glory days. Two honest but desperate-looking volunteers stood beside me as we made our way through the ruined buildings. They can be trusted, as they haven't stabbed me in the back or in the neck or taken turns tearing my guts open as one of them held me down. They trust me, and all I had to do was move forward with my promises.
"There he is." The girl to my left pointed at the large crowd of people that are huddled around a glowing light. There are so many of them, it's the perfect environment for stealth assaults.
"Signed?" I asked, Not being able to tell these people apart is going to be a problem. The chemist looks like the rest of these vagrants.
"Yeah, that's him, the bald guy with the face mask," the girl to my right identified.
Don't know how they know. They must have had a personal encounter with him.
I turned to my left. "What's your name?"
She turned to me. "Summer."
"Summer, huh." I look to my right. "What's yours?"
"Lis," she answered.
I nod. "Nice and simple." I said as I came to a stop.
"Why did you ask?" Summer questioned.
I signaled for everyone to spread out, one by one, they got the message and covered the sides. Making sure that Singed and his group can't escape.
"I need to know the names of the people who chose to stand by me." I answered as I watched for everyone to be situated.
Summer shrugged. "It seemed like the right thing to do."
Looking over at Lis, all she did was nod.
"I want you two to stand by me until I say otherwise." I ordered with a faint hope that they won't resist, as I got the feeling that I am in for some trouble. Thankfully, they both nod obediently. They didn't appear any older than me, but that might be due to malnutrition.
"Hello, Owen," a dry and aged voice called out to me.
Upon turning around, I saw him. He's pulling out a syringe from a boy's back. It holds a purple liquid that radiates that sickening magenta hue.
"I see that you've healed from your experiment," he mentions as he patiently places the syringe down on the desk beside him.
"I've come to cut a deal." I announced as I took a step forward. I am met with a unified resistance as the vagrants around him move with hive-mind unity, shielding him with their bodies.
"Cut a deal, huh?" He insinuated the word ,cut. "Amusing. It sounds like you weren't intending for me to have a say in the matter."
"Not at all." I lied. "Things are changing, I want you to be a part of it."
He chuckled as he continued on with his experiments, taking out another syringe and filling it with that magenta liquid, as if he had all the time in the world.
"I understand. I have been awaiting your arrival for some time now, but not for the reasons that I anticipated," he disclosed.
That's when a familiar gloomy figure walked through the crowd of twisted mutants. The herbalist did everything in her power to avoid my gaze. She laid a bloated organ on top of the table. Then, she began working on it, with a secret ambition that only she can understand.
"This, Zaun of yours." He pulled me from the beginning stages of my inner monologue. "It has a place for me?"
"You are a Zaunite, it will always be your home." I assured him, but that only caused him to chuckle dryly.
"Your sentiment is misplaced and intolerable." He turned to his next subject and injected the substance into his spine.
"If she's here." I began to rationalize. "There must be someone you need healed."
That got Singed to leave the syringe in the subject's spine. His mutated and twisted subjects made way for him.
He stands before me with his mutated pets behind him. "Now, we can negotiate."