As my blood scatters across the cold cell floor, I recall why I'm here. The Enforcer grabs my chin and guides my face towards it. He, she, and they were all the same. Brutes, torturers, monsters, sadists, humans. They wore their usual uniforms, the plain issued blue uniform that is the symbol of oppression against Zaun. Their fist raise, blocking the light that beams in the hallway. That helmet makes them look robotic and inhuman. It will be easier for me to destroy them when I make my move. The fist descended, its slow speed betraying the power that sent my mind back to when I heard the news.
"So..." I continued eating Vander's special, just the way I like it. It took him about three years of me pestering him to get it right. Thick slices of pork, rich gravy, mashed potatoes, and lots and lots of green beans. "They waited all this time?"
Vander sits beside me, gathering all the strength he has not to lash out. "That was reckless, Owen..." he sighs deeply. "But I don't blame you for what you've done."
Vi stomps across the bar as she paces. Claggor is close beside her, my insurance in case she jumps on me for doing what I did. Powder holds onto my arm as I eat, sniffling at my situation. Sevika nurses a drink, maintaining the mystery of what she's thinking. But I've grown to know her as my second mother, and her slumped body language tells me everything. She's disappointed and angry at me. But more so, angry with herself. Wanting to play both counselor and my protector is double overtime labor. I refused to allow her to work herself into the dirt. So, with a heavy heart, I gave her most of my letters to look through, just to keep her busy. She was smart enough to catch on to what I was doing. Still, she didn't complain, as she still wants me to have a childhood, even if she wouldn't admit it. Silco stands beside Vander, studying me with his intense eyes.
"You seem rather...unbothered by this." He stood mostly as a statue, only moving when there's an advantage to gain in my line of thinking.
I understand. However, their worries aren't lost on me. A full year of steady development turned Zaun into a near unrecognizable jungle of ingenuity. We have excelled in ways I never thought possible. And with our rapid growth came our rapidly annoying problems. This move will, perhaps, slow things down. Rarely anything good comes from growing too fast. It took me this long to notice that.
The next spoonful of peas stole my appetite, but I forced it down anyways. Don't think I'll be coming back for a long time. "For what I have in motion..." I run the peas around in mashed potatoes. "...everyone will receive all that they are owed."
Powder softly nudged me. "Stop being scary."
"This plan of yours is going to bring everyone back?" Vander asks as he lowers his hands to the table.
I finished the last of the special and leaned back. "Everyone who survives can't bring back the broken." My hand glides over Powder's, taking in every detail of her skin.
Sevika gets up and approaches the table. "When you get out, I'm staying by your side. And that's the end of it." She turns to leave the bar but mumbles under her breath. "Should have never let you out of my sight."
Mylo barged in, nearly running over Sevika. "Whoa!" he catches himself on his foot. "Sorry! Coming through!" Then he approaches me, sweat pouring down his face. "Got all of us out of Piltover. Everything topside has, we have. And if not, we can make better."
A kick to my stomach woke me up from my daze. Bile began leaking from my mouth. The taste of Vander's special is still better than it was the first time.
"Get up," the Enforcer orders as if he were disappointed in his punching bag. He kicks me again. The enchanted steel-toe boot caught my rib. But at the instant of contact with bone, like a tuning fork, it sent healing vibrations through my body. I'm healed just enough to endure more punishment. I don't know if their armor was enchanted for me and me only. At this point, it's something to consider.
"Hey," a slightly smaller one slaps the shoulder of the masculine Enforcer. "It's my turn." She rolls me over to my back and stomps on my stomach, causing me to almost drown in my vomit. "My father died because of you." She turns to the Enforcers and snaps her fingers. "Bucket." A decent-sized bucket was passed to her. After I spit up as much bile as I could, cold water is spilled on my face. I can't turn away much. Her boot holds me still, and I'm drained from the beatings. "BE STILL!" She moved her boot to stomp on my chest. Holding me down, she pours just when I opened my mouth to announce my pain. The stream was continuous, as if she practiced the art of torture by water. Turning my head mattered little. She masterfully controlled the currents. It's too much. I'm exhausted. The water continued to fall as I lay limp. Finally, she runs out of water and drops the bucket. "Don't you dare die just yet." She starts stomping on my chest and stomach, forcing the water and bile to shoot from my body. The feeling of my bones restoring is the only grace behind the beatings. Everything else is being done slowly. She wasn't a powerhouse like the guy. Soon, she ran out of energy. Then, the iron staff slams, echoing down the halls. The Warden is coming.
Standing in front of the council, in chains, I knew this would happen. Mel sits in front of me. The light focuses over my body, casting the room around me in shadows, from my perspective. Mel's face could hardly be perceived. But I can tell she's internally struggling with my situation, but why? Because I'm still a kid? Silco is also there. Funny, once a man I've sworn to kill is now my only lifeline that can save me from execution.
"Owen, you stand before us today as a youth who has committed heinous crimes against Piltover." She spoke with the authority of a detached councilwoman, befitting her reputation. "However, I can see your actions, while inexcusable, are understandable."
"He was defending his, Powder..." Salo sneers. "A knight to his charge. If anything, he should be given a medal for taking out the trash," he said it in the most sarcastic way possible, but most sarcasm has a hint of brutal honesty.
"As much of a traitor as Markus was, his death...complicates matters." Kiramman added, her stern face twitched, "I caught that even through the light." She's conflicted with this. Is it out of pride as a former Enforcer? "We have nothing but speculation as to Owen's involvement in Markus's death."
Hearing Kiramman defend me piqued Salo's instincts. "Ah, how can I forget the former detective specialist? Let's run through the evidence." Salo leans his elbows on the table. "Markus placed a hit on Powder, not once, but twice. Then he forged an executive order to rally all of the Enforcers to arrest one child, knowing that Powder would be right next to him. Then Markus gets arrested a couple of days later..." He rotated his hands. "...we get the report that he's dead. Just like that, dead. Sounds all too convenient." Salo leans back, pleased with his evaluation of my involvement around Markus's death. Not entirely true, but not entirely false either. Guess there is a brain in that squash-shaped head of his.
"Markus has made many enemies." Silco interjects. "Enemies upon most of all of Zaun and a few among the Enforcers."
"Are you suggesting that Markus was murdered by other prisoners?" Shoola caught on, as if such a thing were impossible to conceive.
"In my former profession, my employees tend to die within Stillwater." Silco looks at all the councilors who conveniently decided not to hold his gaze for long. "I've lost valuable workers there. The enthusiasm of the guards' willingness to chat with the prisoners needs to be tempered."
The thought of being deliberately tortured in prison made me sweat more than the lights beaming down on my head. What's even better is that no one wanted to fess up to the blatant neglect and abuse of the prisoners.
Mel raises her hands to cover her mouth. Shoola lowered her eyes, frowning at the situation. "13 years..." she said, hopefully addressing my age, not the period of time in that hellhole.
"To sentence a child...to Stillwater..." Hoskel began but was unable to finish his sentence as he fiddled with his contraption with his trembling hands.
Bolbok studies me with cold detachment. "Regardless of his age, do not underestimate his cleverness. He has managed to organize and build Zaun from the ground up. Surely, the destruction of the former electricity company has his hands all over it." I glanced at him, nearly regretting going through with that adventure. "I'm willing to speculate about his involvement in other matters of late."
Kiramman clears her throat. "Without solid evidence, we have nothing but speculations."
"What evidence do we have against young Owen?" Heimerdinger asks with a hint of trepidation in his voice.
Kiramman let out a tired sigh. "Multiple testimonies from 15 Enforcers..."
"Who are clearly in support of Markus..." Silco interrupted, which was unlike him. "...and have a known bias against Owen, for obvious reasons."
Kiramman nods, seemingly more bothered at the fact of being interrupted. "That makes their testimonies flimsy at best."
"There is also the convenient matter of Yenir energy..." Bolbok paused his speech for Silco to chip in, but he remained silent. So Bolbok continued. "Unauthorized materials were recovered from the Yenir family energy company." He presents the tray of the evidence. It's Powder's bomb. It's in pieces, reduced to scrap, but it's unmistakable. These Piltovians are clever alright. They have smart people to piece the parts together to make a vague resemblance of what it was. "Owen," his booming voice snaps me out of my contemplation. "You know who's responsible for that senseless destruction?"
It was more of an accusation than a question. I will never sell Powder out. It doesn't matter what number of years they give me. I won't betray her. So I remained silent. Silco's shoulders dropped slightly. This was the first time I saw disappointment on Silco's face. It was faint, but it was there. Silence hung in the air, as now they have to give me my sentence. They delayed this part, as my presence in Zaun keeps the peace. It's something that I hope is true. Or at the very least, stops that future from happening. What was that? That movement behind Mel's mouth, and the narrowing of her eyes, the furrow of her brows—what is she thinking?
"There is also the kidnapping and modification of Enforcer officers." Bolbok continued, He's really on my back today.
Kiramman raised a brow. "Although I worry for them as well, none of them confirmed the kidnapping."
"Ah yes!" Heimerdinger piped up. "They had complicated modifications done to their bodies. I can see why they wouldn't want to speak about it. They move so fluidly, so gracefully with metal prosthetics...." He looks around to see his councilors are all waiting for him to center himself. Upon clearing his throat, he continues. "We cannot, however, hold Owen accountable if those affected refuse to give a statement."
Salo shrugs. "So...why am I here? Just to hear evidence that might not be evidence? So far, we have suggestions that he might be involved, but nothing solid. I won't hang my reputation on the line for a ruling based on flimsy evidence, timid testimonies, and disgruntled Enforcers."
Hoskel lowers his contraption. "What about that fight a while ago? I was in the crowd, you know."
I shake my head. "They hit me first! I was defending myself! If you were in the crowd, you would have seen that."
"What I saw when you so rudely left the scene of the crime, was a child with his left eye pushed in his socket, his brother's foot nearly twisted from his leg, his ligaments completely destroyed, and also their sister, who's now in a wheelchair."
Huh, thinking back, that was a bit extreme. "But...they hit me first...sooo—"
"Three counts of assault, plus causing a public disturbance." Shoola concluded as she laced her fingers together. "We are also aware that you are a sovereign figure, that complicated things..."
Mel lowers her arms to the table. "Sovereign or no, there has to be consequences. So, Owen, the destruction of Yenir energy, the kidnapping of Enforcer officers, the modification of their bodies while under duress, and the murder of Markus. Both of which are difficult to prove your involvement in, but we know better. There are whispers that carry your name. On the other hand, your three counts of assault have been witnessed publicly, and by a councilman no less."
That last part sounds like she's personally offended.
"Make no mistake, we have fantastic detectives." Kiramman announced. "We can take our time gathering more evidence to piece together your involvement. And perhaps, other agents were involved in your schemes."
No, they can't know about Powder. I won't let them get anywhere near her.
Mel gave it to me straight. "I'm offering you a choice. Considering your importance to Zaun and our trade agreements, you could accept 18 months for the three assault charges or wait in a holding cell for us to gather evidence for the other charges levied against you. And I'm sure you understand murder and destruction of property carries a heavier sentence."
The slam of the Warden's staff woke me up, along with the wave of pain that followed. The numbness of being beaten repeatedly kind of made it somewhat bearable. The slam drew closer, and the guards grew nervous, especially the one who's currently stomping my chest in.
"No," the female Enforcer turns around, then back to me. "I want more time."
I smiled at her. And she fell on me, furiously smashing her enchanted glove against my face. The last slam of the staff made her freeze.
"That's enough for today. Go play with someone else," the Warden ordered rather than suggested.
The guards dutifully retreated, like the well-trained dogs they are.
The Warden looks over me with a face that might suggest pity. "They're good people, just a little...hurt." He walks into my cell, hopefully slamming the staff for the last time. The noise made my already bleeding ear ring. Lowering to my level, he looks over my body and sighs. "They lost a few of their good friends." I tilt my head, allowing blood to freely fall from my nose. "You've been broken in, so none of the prisoners will think that you've been given special treatment. You being a child and all."
Licking the blood from my lips, I turn to spit on the floor. "Thanks."
He grins. "It's not so bad here. We'll chat and get to know each other better. And soon, you can help me keep order around here." With that, he gets up and makes his way out of the cell. The slam of the cell door closing and the iron staff slamming onto the metal floor were the only sounds that kept me awake. When the sounds finally faded away in the distance, and all was quiet, I silently cried. The pain that tore through my body wasn't the source of my tears, as much as I wanted it to be. My family, the Zaun that I want to give them—it's going to be delayed for a year. It's a small price to pay to keep the rapid growth stable. Ever since Jayce launched his controlled Hextech inventions, it has become nearly impossible to keep up. Even now, I don't want to think about it. But out of all the failures that I've suffered by this sacrifice, it's Powder who I can't bear the thought of not seeing every day. Despite the danger she might bring, I still can't function as a human being without her. That blue ball of health hazards made me human. She gave me a reason to stay. At first, I thought it was Violet, but it's all of them. No matter how I cut it, I need them all. They all chased me and gave me a home. Guess that's why I can't quit. If I'm going to survive in here, I have to take my victories one battle at a time. Now, I need to recover. Survival won't become my backbone in here. I will thrive.
Eating lunch, surrounded by disgruntled Zaunites and blackmailed Piltovians, gave off delicious opportunities. So far, I haven't gotten the shit beat out of me by them, so they must have accepted me. The Warden has done at least one thing right, he refused to treat me differently. Giving me leeway into gathering support and protection. The first problem is how to gather support. I can't speak to them as if I were in Zaun. This is a new environment, a completely different world. I need to connect with them somehow. Taking a chance, I try to get attention by eye contact. The woman in front of me looks a bit older than the rest and beaten beyond her body's ability to repair. She looks older than she probably is. The guy to my left looks middle-aged. A face full of hair and eyes full of hopelessness. The guy to my right looks a bit jittery. Wouldn't be surprised if he bribes the guards to sneak drugs in. Gotta learn of his supplier and take them out.
"What are you looking at, kid?" I had to fight my head from snapping at her. That voice sounds like it struggled to free itself from under a heavy wet blanket.
"Tell me I'm not the youngest one in here." I opened up, running my finger across a slightly stale carrot stick.
She watched my finger. "You are, for now. Not the first, won't be the last one they throw in here." She takes a look at my face, lingering her eyes on my completely swollen eye. "The first beating always feels the worst."
Trying to bite through the carrot sent a fresh wave of pain through my mouth. "So you're saying there's more to come?"
"A lot more," the guy to my left interjected. "We used to think it was only for the loud ones. But eventually, they stopped discriminating."
"They usually let us heal first before kicking our asses," the older woman continued. "But...they sometimes go too far..."
They are doing a great job at ruining my appetite. "How often do they go too far?"
"The gal before you..." The guy to my right growled with a voice that smoked too much of everything. "...they beat her so bad...they moved her out in pieces..." He shook his head, as if to shake out the memories, and scratched at his throat.
Starting to severely regret my plans here. "Sounds horrible." A guard slowly walks by. I made it a point not to acknowledge them as they walked by. When they finally passed and moved to other tables, I continued. "There must be a way to protect ourselves without raising direct resistance or suspicion."
The three look at me with eyes mixed with offense and mournful hope.
"That's dangerous talk, boy," the woman warns as she grips her plastic spoon.
I nod. "Dangerous for them."
That's when she threw her tray in my face. The guy on the right threw himself at me. We both bumped into the guy on the left, and the three of us went falling to the ground. All I saw in my face were dirty hands and ugly faces. I writhed and sprawled on the cold metal floor, weaving through the legs and screaming figures surrounding me. When I manage to stand on my feet, my back hits the wall. A fight had already started beyond us. Where I once sat, was not just a mob of fists and trays being used as weapons. That was at least half of them, the other half, on me now. They're sizing me up, deciding whether or not to take a piece of me now or later. So many of them, grown adults, different sizes, mirrored stories, and similar fury. One of them pushed aside an inmate to charge at me. His eyes aren't wild or strung out, they look focused. His form portrays a professional skill set that only hired assassins would have. And I felt it too. When he anticipated my efforts of escape and closed off my movements. The slick evasions of my punches and kicks. His unavoidable advances ignited more pain through me. Punches I couldn't see coming, kicks that sent my world spinning, and grapples I couldn't break. All resistance seems to be in vain, as I crash to the floor, my neck under his knee. The pressure is building. In the middle of the cafeteria riot, I can see his plan, his luck was perfect. Don't know how long he was sitting in Stillwater, but a professional like him is no average rule breaker. Whoever he was, someone hired him to take me out. But by the state of things, it doesn't feel like I'm in any condition to weasel my way out of this. Too weak to fight back, too thoroughly outplayed to attempt another move. I'm finished. As the world faded around my vision, I tried to find something to fight back against it. I tried my willpower, but conditions have weighed me down and dulled my fighting spirit. The memories of my friends have done little to bring the spark of inspiration. Not even she can bail me out, that goofy trouble maker. I wonder if she'll use the formulas to find the sea of eternity, only to hunt me down and drown me for giving up. That sounds like her, always pushing for the impossible. Just as I was fading back to my celestial dream, the professional was knocked aside by a big guy. With both gut and muscle, he easily handled the assassin and threw him into the crowd. I was grabbed from behind and dragged back. The big guy looked towards us and nodded, then charged after the retreating assassin. My head fell back from exhaustion. Before I passed out, my vision cleared up enough to see a rough but gallant-looking man holding me. All I heard from his mouth were the muffled words of a well-fed glutton. Unconsciousness came to steal me away.
Waking up with an empty belly made the random chats easier. But somehow, having nothing to throw up made it worse than vomiting food. They dropped me, with my guts rearranged by batons and kicks to the ribs.
"Got a new friend for you," the Enforcer announces as he drags an unconscious body into my cell and dumps it on me. As the cell door shut, breakfast was shoved under the door. Two trays, a loaf of bread, apples, and sugary slop. It was enough to satisfy the body, healing it for the next possible brutal beating. Groaning, I roll the body onto the spare bed. Upon surveying him, I see that they worked him over real good. Almost has a nasty swollen eye like mine. Since I can't convince myself to wake him, I decide to eat. I gathered his tray and placed it next to his bed, then tended to my needs. Biting bread doesn't make me jump in pain, so that's nice. As I ate, I kept my eyes on the man. Probably have to fight him as soon as he wakes up. The rules around here are difficult to pin down. Eventually, I have to make my own rules.
As I sit on my bed, keeping watch on my new cellmate, I wonder about home. Every hour that passes, I begin to miss the beauty of the mundane. Signing papers, signatures, airing out the room filled with Sevika's smoke. Hearing the kids working and watching them play on breaks. The immature former gang members turn into everyday normal civilians and Zaun Enforcers, if called. The street vendors always have something to sell. Vander's bright face, doing what he loves doing, serving drinks and talking to everyone he meets. Silco had finally won me over. His support over the years has been nothing but true to his word. If he can change, then maybe all of Zaun can change, Singed too. Mylo has grown into a brave man. No longer the first to whine and complain about something. Now, he waits to complain about something, which is an improvement I can take. When it comes to Claggor, he's always been a pillar of security for me. Despite his shifty and horrible way of hiding secrets from me, I can't help but like the guy. Then, there are my three favorites. It sounds bad to have favorites, but I can't help myself. Ekko has grown his hair out since the last time I saw him. His dreads are as long as my fingers. That hair of his is almost completely blond, he's got some weird genetics in him. The same goes for Vi, her hair grew redder by the year. Not much had changed with her, she was still tough, kind of a butt to people, but all warm and gooey around us. Then, there's my joy, the one I feel as if I've betrayed by abandoning her. Her emotions are already wild on their own. She's been doing pretty well the last few months. No random outbursts of crying or shifts in personality, we balance each other well. Is all this worth it? I roll over and start doing push-ups. Every successful push-up gave me permission to think of her again. To bask in her hair that's past her shoulders now. As my arms ache, I dive into her pale eyes, so mischievous and full of life. Memories of her monstrous nature come to mind as well. The others can care for her while I'm gone, I'm sure. Rolling over, I began doing V sit-ups. Perfectly balancing my upper and lower body, meeting my forehead to my knees. I don't stop until I feel the pain from the beating stop. If they're going to beat me at random points throughout my sentence, then I need to work out whenever I can. Keep the memories of my family alive.
Powder caresses my cheek through the cell bars. She tries to hold a facade of serenity, but she should know by now I can see through most of her tricks. "How are you holding up?" She's trying to hold herself together. Those eyes look swollen and red, and I feel like shit for doing this to her.
I lock eyes with her, wanting to bend time to hold this moment a little longer. "Regretting this already."
Powder chuckled softly, her breath brushing against me. Vi and Vander stood at the end of the hall, their faces hard but understanding of what I chose to do.
"We'll take care of things, I promise." Her voice is sincere but shakes with a hurt that I can't bear to endure. But I need to, the hope of Zaun depends on this journey.
"I know you will, Pow Pow." I gaze into her eyes. "But don't forget to take care of yourself." I reach my hand through the bars to glide my hand along her smooth, yet salty face. "And save some of those salty tears for when I bust out of there."
She huffed, shaking her head. "I heard things about what they do to people in there." Her forehead pressed against the bars. "I hate the council, I'll always hate them."
I met her forehead with mine and lowered my voice to a barely audible whisper. "I know, that's why I'm going to take them down, brick by brick." She looks up at me, blinking away her tears. "And you're going to help, mostly because you want to take all the credit." A wide smile stretched her face, and I mirrored it. "There you go. I want you to smile like that for me every day, okay?"
Three loud banging sounds echoed into the room. Our heads snapped towards the noise, a sinking feeling in my gut weighing me down. "Hey! Give them a minute!" Vi shouted, her fists clenched for a fight.
Vander held her back with his enormous hands. "They're still kids, a few more minutes..." The two of them walked into the other room to argue and stall for more time. Their arguments, pleas, and mediating collide with Grayson's stern but firm stance on policies.
Our gazes met again, knowing that our time together is coming to a close. Her arms tug at my shirt, and our bodies press against the cold bars. Wanting to feel her warmth again made my skin scream. "Don't forget me, please." Her body trembles with a fear I have no time to soothe.
My hands rub at her back. "I'll never forget you." I pulled back, looking through her eyes. "You're in my heart, always."
The shouting in the room rises to near pure aggression, Vander's mediating abilities are being pushed to their limits. But our eyes never left. We understood what had to be done. Freeing my Zaunites through bail and bribery would make me more like them, and they were betting on it. Instead, I need them to riot and fight back against the ones who locked them up.
"I'll march them out. Stillwater will be Ghostwater when I'm done with them." I promised with the most serious face I could muster, but Powder weakly slapped my back instead.
"Whatever." She pressed her face between the bars, and I smashed my lips against hers. It would have been our most passionate kiss, if not for the current circumstances. "Tough guy," she criticized between kisses. "You know it." I shot back as I broke the lock of our lips with a loud smack.
Powder wipes her lips. "You always want to be loud with that."
I lick mine. "I don't see why not, I can barely hear myself think."
We turn our gazes at the doorway. Only Vander's back can be seen blocking the way.
I move my fingers to Powder's cheek. Looking back at me, she relaxes and allows me to turn her head. She pressed her cheeks between the bars, the baby fat in her face making it easier for me to kiss it.
A tear finally ran down her face, which she instantly wiped away. She grabs my hand, lacing our fingers together. "Always with you, Owen."
I squeezed her hand possessively. "Always with you, Powder."