"Everyone—put aside your prejudice against each other. Zaun is not our enemy. Hundreds of years ago, we were one. Blood is thicker than water. We spoke the same language and worshiped the same gods. If we ignore their crisis today, then tomorrow it becomes our crisis.
"Piltover values peace, and Piltover should embrace peace. When an ally is in trouble, we help—and we must help. Therefore, in the name of House Medarda, I—Mel Medarda—will execute the Twin Cities Cooperation Pact and extend a hand when our ally needs it most!"
Piltover's radio broadcast carried Mel's voice across the city. Cool and forceful, it repeated updates from Zaun and instructed residents living near the channel to move north, away from the low-lying western areas.
"All Zaunites, proceed to North Park! All Piltovans, proceed to North Park! Do not throw your lives away for meaningless property! The councilors will compensate your losses unconditionally. After the disaster, every great house will help you rebuild your homes!"
"I repeat: citizens of both cities, stay away from the western districts. Get to higher ground and shelter from the flood!"
Mel braced both hands on the podium and leaned forward, speaking with deliberate emphasis.
She already knew what Zaun's crisis was.
With help from the Undercity Enforcers, Piltover Enforcers had taken photographs at Highstone Mine—capturing the towering flame monster, tens of meters tall, and the molten destruction it brought with it.
Mel swore that thing was taller than a behemoth, more terrifying than the stitched abominations Noxus produced with blood magic.
That wasn't a creature humans could fight.
In Mel's eyes, even Noxus would struggle against something like that. Only a nationwide muster of mages—rotating barrages, relentless bombardment—might have a chance at victory. And even in vast, populous Noxus, "mage" was still a rare word.
Yet right now, Zaun's Logan and Vander were fighting it.
In one photo, a man and a wolf from Zaun roared at the monster, both covered in wounds. The black-haired young man who always smiled gently had lost his hair to fire. His body was charred, and one arm had turned completely coal-black. The terrifying wolf's limbs were burned off, fur scorched, not a single part of him unhurt.
Mel drew a deep breath, the image flashing in her mind, and spoke into the broadcast again.
At Zaun's Entresol, every resident had already cleared out—yet a group of people ran against the flow, charging into the empty square.
They carried sacks packed full of blue Hextech gemstones. They stacked the sacks into a wall and sprinted back and forth.
This was Piltover's second line of defense: Hextech gemstones. If the monster tried to climb up, Piltover would detonate every last gemstone and set off an unprecedented explosion inside Zaun.
The combined value of these gemstones was enough to keep the Sun Gates operating for half a year.
In other words: enough to build multiple docks, forge a well-equipped army of several thousand, or feed an entire city for decades.
And every last bit of it was funded by Jayce.
All of it was his money.
"Put the gemstones down and leave immediately! Zaunites—don't stand too close to the gems! Hell, set them down gently! If they blow here, we're all dead!" a Piltover Enforcer barked when he saw a Zaunite fling a sack onto the pile.
The Enforcer's face went pale the moment the words left his mouth.
Piltover had been losing to Zaun for a while now, and this Enforcer had fought in the Battle of the Bridge of Progress. After snapping like that, he worried the Undercity Enforcer would come after him.
But to his shock, the Undercity Enforcer simply nodded hard and said with an apologetic tone, "Got it."
Then he shouted to the others, "Stack the sacks carefully! Don't throw them!"
"The stability on Hextech gemstones is bad—strong impact can make them explode!"
"Yes!" the Undercity Enforcers responded in unison.
Willa turned back, gave the Piltover Enforcer a firm nod, and said, "Let's keep going."
"Yeah!" The Piltover Enforcer nodded hard.
At the same time, Jayce had already brought people to Piltover's channel works. He stood with eyes closed, waiting for the command.
Once both cities' residents were gathered on higher ground, he would order the gates opened—diverting the flood toward Zaun.
It would scour Zaun clean.
Back when relations between the two cities were at their worst, Piltover had never considered doing this. Not because they couldn't—but because it wouldn't only destroy Zaun. It would also destroy a large chunk of Piltover.
But now, there was no room left to weigh costs.
Zaun. The Lanes. Highstone Mine.
Silco stood silently on a hoverboard, protected by Enforcers. Vi was there. Ekko was there. Scar and the others had come as well.
And Jinx.
She sat on her hoverboard with a huge object in her arms, head lowered as she worked frantically.
It was a massive cannon barrel, the front shaped like a shark's head with jagged, saw-toothed jaws. Jinx's long fingers trembled. Between her fingertips she held a Hextech gemstone, carefully slotting it into the groove set into the weapon's body.
Jinx regretted it—badly.
Regretted not taking Silco's orders seriously back then.
Regretted wasting all that time fooling around instead of properly studying Hextech weapons.
Now she was trying to adjust the cannon on the fly and—
No.
There wasn't time.
There really wasn't time.
Because even if she forced it to fire, she couldn't control the output, couldn't control the accuracy. She couldn't control anything.
But what else could she do?
All she could do was hypnotize herself into finishing it—because if she built it, then… then she could help Logan.
Right.
I have to help Logan.
"Councilor Silco!" an Undercity Enforcer shouted.
"Report!" Silco turned.
"All residents have evacuated to the northern districts of Piltover. The upper city is preparing to open the gates and release the flood—we need to leave, now!"
Silco froze.
He'd assumed Zaunites would gather at the Bridge of Progress and the Promenade.
But now… they were in Piltover's north?
That was the rich district.
A complicated look flickered in his eyes. Then he shouted, "Tell them: Zaunites are fully evacuated. They can open the gates."
"Yes!"
Silco walked to Vi. She saw him coming and looked up immediately.
"In a moment," Silco said quietly, "get Jinx out. This fight isn't something we can join."
"Then what about Logan?" Vi blurted, panic rising. Vi was strong—really strong. In Zaun there weren't many people who could beat her. But staring at that red, flaming monster, she felt useless.
"I'll stay here," Silco said calmly.
Vi nodded once. "Understood."
Time dragged on, second by second.
Highstone Mine barely looked like itself anymore. The ground had collapsed. The mountain had shattered. Nearby buildings were burning, fire licking up into thick smoke.
The smoke didn't affect Logan and Vander—because Janna kept blowing it away.
But Logan and Vander couldn't hold much longer.
I fought a Darkin—and I fought it for this long.
Even with a spirit god helping, Logan suddenly found a grim kind of pride in it.
When a Darkin first possesses a host, that's supposed to be its weakest period.
But when Logan and Vander went down into the mine, they saw the truth with their own eyes: those blood pools were the power this Darkin had accumulated over years beneath Zaun.
So it wasn't really in a "weak" phase at all.
To fight it to this point—to delay long enough for Zaunites to fully evacuate—Logan was satisfied with his performance.
But… would things have been better if he and Vander had never gone down there?
No. He couldn't think like that.
If they hadn't gone down, the Darkin's influence would've spread into Zaun's communities. It would've caused even more destruction, consumed even more blood, and grown even stronger.
Sometimes, once you've made a choice, you don't get to drown in what-ifs.
You did it.
So you commit to it.
"Vander—are you okay?" Logan asked.
"I'm not dead yet," Vander rasped.
One of Vander's eyes was gone. His regeneration had slowed. A thigh was torn open, metal bone exposed—flesh no longer growing back properly.
Janna's form had shrunk drastically too.
Logan glanced at his energy bar. Just… a little more.
Hold on a little longer.
"Vander, we just need to hold on a bit more—just a bit more and I'll—"
Logan cut himself off mid-sentence.
A thunderous rumble rolled in above them, something surging along the top of the abyss-like fissure.
Logan narrowed his eyes and saw it—
Water.
"Move!" Logan grabbed Vander, and with Janna's help they launched sideways, just barely escaping the wall of water crashing down from above.
"Piltover actually released the flood?!" Vander stared upward, his mouth twitching. If Piltover had used this trick back when they truly wanted to crush Zaun, there wouldn't even be a Zaun now.
This was basically dragging the sea inland and dumping it straight onto them.
In the distance, the Undercity Enforcers reacted fast—dragging Silco back. Ekko and Vi moved in front of Jinx at once, stopping her from doing something reckless.
But Jinx seemed oblivious to everything around her.
Her thumb—painted with blue nail polish—was chewed ragged and broken. She stared down at the cannon in a daze.
"Janna," Logan said sharply, "buy me two minutes!"
Janna startled—then understood immediately.
Logan was going to that place again. The place even Janna couldn't touch.
Logan moved fast.
Time flowed differently in Spirit Blossom—it ran faster than the outside world. If he entered Spirit Blossom now, he'd have enough time to find Ahri.
And just now, Logan had harvested a massive wave of emotion.
Energy points…
He had enough.
If even Ahri couldn't solve this, then the twin cities would have no choice but to abandon this place and flee somewhere else to survive.
Because without a god's help, the twin cities—right now—simply could not fight a Darkin.
Logan drew a deep breath and closed his eyes.
"Come on—let me descend!"
Time slowed around him.
Logan opened his eyes, and in the final instant before entering Spirit Blossom, he saw Styraatu's disdain.
And honestly… fair.
Styraatu was Darkin, not some fire elemental spirit. The flames were her power, not her origin. If a flood could wipe her out, then she'd be pathetic.
White swallowed Logan's vision.
Then he heard a voice at his ear.
[Descent successful.]
[Welcome back to Spirit Blossom, Summoner Logan.]
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