Zeri, clutching the remaining medicinal syrup within her, excitedly headed to Seraphine's room to chat about intimate secrets.
Despite Zeri appearing high-spirited on the surface, her long, slender legs trembled uncontrollably as she walked. Faen's thick, iron-hard, and terrifyingly large meat stick had nearly pounded her flower house into a pulp just moments ago. Even though the round was over, her meat hole, which had been forcibly stretched to its limit, remained unable to close. With every step she took, the massive amount of thick, white turbid semen stored within her squeezed out from her red, swollen, and out-turned labia with a "squelch" like a bursting flood, sliding greasily down the roots of her ivory thighs.
Upon entering the room, under the continuous catalysis of the Joy Factor, the shame Zeri felt from her earlier "social death" actually transformed into a pathological state of arousal. Right in front of Seraphine, she shrugged off her oversized coat, revealing the black lace lingerie underneath that was already soaked through with love juices and cum. The girl's delicate body, covered in purplish finger marks and vivid hickeys, shivered slightly under the light. Her two nipples, standing rock-hard from her recent orgasms, poked stubbornly through the wet fabric.
"Ngh... that animal Faen, he pumped so much inside me..." Zeri panted heavily. Under Seraphine's stunned gaze, she unhesitatingly hiked her leg up onto the edge of the bed. She reached in with her slender fingers, probing into that already muddy forest. As soon as her fingertips pressed against her swollen flower heart, a large gush of scalding white paste erupted along the gaps of her fingers, soaking a large patch of the bedsheet.
Seraphine stood frozen to the spot. Her nostrils were filled with the scent of male musk, so strong it was almost cloying, mixed with the lewd vapor emanating from Zeri. Through her resonance with the Joy Factor, she not only heard the melody of greedy lust deep within Zeri's body but felt her own private parts becoming wet and itchy from the visual impact. She watched helplessly as Zeri used her fingers to dig and stir within her own out-turned, soft flesh, attempting to drain some of the overflowing essence. The rhythmic, lewd squelching sounds and Zeri's dazed moans instantly turned this supposedly pure bedroom into an abyss of desire.
Meanwhile, Faen remained in the original room to clean up—though he called it cleaning, he simply manipulated the flowing water to sweep away the grime and drain it into the sewers, out to sea.
There was no need to worry about pollution—compared to Zaun's own chemical contamination, what impact could a few bodily fluids have?
After finishing, he checked the time: five-thirty in the morning. Faen sat cross-legged to meditate, sensing the ripples within the spirit realm.
Although he appeared to be busy with either the Wind of Change or his intimate activities with Zeri during this time, Faen had never slacked in his mastery over Ashlesh's power.
Especially after the establishment of the Wind of Change, with the workers occupying two-thirds of the Undercity, Faen could clearly sense a radical ideological trend spreading among the worker population.
This was not the workers' fault.
Faen knew well that it was because these workers had been oppressed for too long. They had no channel to voice their grievances or fight for their rightful interests. The emergence of the Wind of Change filled this void, but just like the stories told at the grievance meetings that evening—many workers wanted to speak of their suffering and find understanding and tolerance. Unfortunately, the podium was limited.
Beyond just voicing their pain, the workers were equally craving revenge and destruction, wanting to tear down the Chem-Barons and their lapdogs. This extreme emotion was no different from populism; it allowed a movement to gain momentum rapidly. However, history had proven countless times that such extreme ideologies would eventually swallow those who tried to exploit them...
Beyond these socio-scientific concerns, more importantly, these ideological trends would tangibly affect Faen himself.
Nilah gained Ashlesh's power, but Faen gained Ashlesh's concept. With that same concept, Faen did not want to become the next Ashlesh—a demon of extreme desire, driven by chaotic euphoria, whose mind was broken as he launched an assault on the Celestial Realm.
Because of this, Faen was determined to better control the shifts in thought within Zaun, Piltover, and other regions in the future. He didn't need every region to be perfectly peaceful, but he had to ensure they maintained a relative balance overall.
While lost in thought, Faen felt something and opened his eyes. He looked toward the window. Facing the sea, a cool breeze blew in. Accompanied by the first rays of morning light appearing on the horizon, the wind caught the curtains, and a lush green bird stood on the windowsill, tilting its head curiously at Faen.
Sensing the aura emanating from the green bird, a smile touched the corners of Faen's mouth.
"I shall come to visit you shortly, Janna."
The green bird did not speak, merely tilting its head curiously as it watched him.
After meditating for a while, Faen rose with the dawn and began handling the various situations currently unfolding in Zaun.
He felt no fatigue, for the workers' spirit of resistance was inherently rooted in hope and joy, allowing Faen to feel his own energy growing continuously. Moreover, Soona already had a core group of Zaunite worker leaders from Vander's era. Feeling a renewed sense of hope, combined with the activation brought by trace amounts of the Joy Factor, handling just half a city district was not particularly difficult.
Even for Faen, the tasks requiring his attention were mostly high-level strategic controls. Most of the detailed matters were handed directly to Soona... Knowing of Silco's covert assistance, Soona showed absolutely no mercy in dealing with opportunists who betrayed the cause or leaked information.
At three o'clock in the afternoon, having finished his current tasks, Faen took Zeri, Seraphine, Soona, and several other core members through the many pipes of the Undercity to an underground tunnel.
Similar structures were common in Zaun, some even dating back thousands of years to the Shuriman era.
The Storm's Fury, Janna—one of the oldest faiths in Runeterra. While she couldn't compare to the Star Forger or the Aspects, the faith surrounding her existed long before the Shuriman Empire rose from the sands.
Due to the geographical location, many in ancient Zaun would pray to the wind. Among them were sailors hoping for fair weather and the oppressed praying for change; many mortals placed their hopes in the fierce gales and currents that howled across Runeterra.
And sometimes, these storms would answer the prayers. Perhaps by filling a sail with a great wind to assist a heavy ship out to sea, or by sending a sharp whistle before a storm to alert people to a change in the weather. Some even claimed to have seen a white-clad spirit surrounded by bluebirds. Thus, people called this miraculous being "Jann'Rem," which meant "Guardian" in ancient Shuriman, for she always seemed to appear in the moments of greatest peril.
But slowly, as the Shuriman Empire rose, religious restrictions forced people to destroy Janna's idols. Unfortunately, people always favored pragmatism. After all, the Ascended warriors could not protect ships from storms. So the name of the Guardian was simplified to Janna. Along with it, the objects of prayer shifted from massive statues to small, hidden Bluebird amulets.
Of course, beyond that, the small altars built deep within the underground tunnels never truly disappeared. Most of these small altars were unknown to outsiders, and many had been ruined by the shifts in Zaun's natural environment or destructive mining.
The current one was the same altar that appeared in the story of Jinx and Vi during Arcane.
Indeed, as Faen and his group arrived at the altar, several figures emerged from another tunnel.
Looking at this ancient altar, Silco's face was filled with nostalgia.
"Janna... the ancient patron goddess of Zaun. You arranged for us to meet here to pray to a deity who hasn't been seen for God knows how many years?"
"I hear a lot of resentment in your words," Faen said, shaking his head. "But Janna has never done wrong by the people of Zaun."
"I only want to know if she truly exists, and what exactly she has done." Silco shook his head, his face cold.
The long struggle with Piltover had eroded all superfluous thoughts from Silco's heart. Beings like faiths or gods were things Silco had surely tried to contact more than once. Unfortunately, the Twin Cities region was entirely different from other areas of Runeterra; the number of extraordinary powers hidden here could be counted on one hand. Due to culture and other reasons, all powerful individuals had either left or withered away like Janna. The only one capable of maintaining their peak combat power, in Faen's memory, was a chaotic Darkin.
Now, hearing Silco's words, Faen spoke unhurriedly: "You should have some memory of it. When the Sun Gates and the canal were established, an entire district by the Pilt River sank below the sea level to the west. Before the disaster struck, the people prayed in despair."
Faen cast his gaze toward Silco.
The Sun Gates and the canal hadn't been established for very long, but the profits they brought were beyond imagination. Silco, who had personally lived through that era, surely knew of things that even Soona was aware of.
True to form, upon hearing Faen's words, Silco's brow furrowed slightly. "You mean to say that the violent hurricane that blocked the floodwaters back then was summoned by Janna?"
Silco still remembered. When Zaun was sinking, as the seawater poured in, a hurricane swept through the city, walling off the deluge with air. The fierce winds also broke through the thick smoke, guiding people toward escape.
But to be honest, Silco didn't believe this proved Janna's existence. Only a few thousand people had witnessed it. Even the districts that sank underwater were mostly planned for abandonment anyway, with evacuations carried out in advance. It was just that the geological shifts were more violent than expected, and several thousand people died unexpectedly in the aftermath of the collapse.
And the words of those survivors... at least the current Silco no longer believed them.
To this, Faen said: "Not just that, but also the Gray that Piltover used to vent into Zaun—the reason that Gray didn't immediately cover all of Zaun was because of Janna's storm protection. She used the storms to blow a path through the rolling toxic gases."
Piltover wasn't prosperous from the start, and Zaun wasn't degenerate from the start. A long time ago, the rift between Zaun and Piltover wasn't so wide; or rather, when Zaun still had the power to fight for the rights of the Sun Gates at the negotiating table, Piltover's industries were developed within its own city districts.
That was the only time Zaun's environment was actually better than Piltover's. It wasn't until later, when both sides completely turned against each other and Piltover could no longer bear more arcane pollution, that they simply began venting all pollutants directly down into Zaun.
Occupying the upstream geography of the city gave Piltover a natural advantage. It forced Zaun to become the so-called City of Pollution.
Faen's words undoubtedly touched upon Silco's blind spot of knowledge, causing Silco to frown involuntarily.
Seeing this, Faen shook his head and said: "This is not your area of expertise. Whether it is true or false, you will understand in a moment. Just like the process of you discovering Shimmer—you don't need to understand the principles of its creation too deeply; you just need it to be useful, don't you?"
Hearing this, Silco fell into silence, not arguing. After a moment, he nodded.
"What do you plan to do?"