Arcane: I have Plasmids F*** YEAAAAAAH!!!

Lukas walked through the wounded streets of Zaun, carrying two heavy boxes, and doing his absolute best to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut.

Because even though the war was over—

The damage was still everywhere.

The air felt heavier than before.

Not because of smog or chemicals.

But because of the people.

There were no public funerals in Zaun.

Just people cleaning up the mess.

People grieving in silence.

People who would never know that the dumbass carrying two boxes of alcohol was the reason their families were gone.

Lukas forced his eyes forward.

Tried to ignore the way his stomach twisted.

"Can't fix it. Can't take it back."

"Just keep walking."

His grip tightened on the boxes.

And he kept moving.

To The Last Drop.

The closer he got, the less chaotic the streets became.

More organized.

More patrolled.

Vander's men stood guard at key intersections.

And right at the entrance?

Two big-ass guys—built like solid walls—watching everyone who passed by.

Lukas walked up, shifting the boxes in his grip.

The men looked at him.

He looked back.

A silent exchange.

A flicker of recognition.

They stepped aside.

He stepped in.

------------

The bar was quieter than usual.

Not dead.

Just… tired.

The war was over, but people were still recovering.

Even the music seemed softer.

It was like everyone was waiting for something.

Waiting for things to go back to normal.

Waiting for the next disaster to hit.

Lukas exhaled through his nose, rolling his shoulders as he made his way to the counter.

And that's when he saw him.

Vander.

And the second Vander saw him?

His shoulders relaxed.

His expression shifted.

And a slow, relieved breath left his lips.

"Hey."

Lukas raised a brow.

"Yeah?"

Vander exhaled.

"You're alive."

Lukas blinked.

"…Wasn't planning on dying."

Vander let out something that was almost a chuckle.

"Good."

And for some reason?

That one word hit different.

Lukas shifted the weight of the boxes in his hands before dropping them onto the bar with a thud.

"Brought some new stock for you."

Vander gave him a once-over, eyes flicking from the liquor to Lukas himself.

His expression was hard to read.

Something between relief, exhaustion, and something else Lukas couldn't quite place.

Then, after a beat—Vander sighed.

"Let's see it, then."

---

Lukas opened the boxes, revealing his latest haul.

Six bottles of Vodka. (80 points each.)

Two bottles of Gin. (130 points each.)

One bottle of Whiskey. (200 points.)

Vander picked up one of the Gin bottles, tilting it under the bar light.

His brows lifted slightly.

"Haven't seen this label before."

He uncorked it, took a brief sniff—

And gave a slow, approving nod.

"This is the good stuff."

Lukas smirked.

"Told you I don't sell garbage."

---

Vander studied the bottles for a moment before sighing.

"I'll be straight with you, kid. I want this. But money's tight."

Lukas frowned.

Vander rubbed the back of his neck, his expression heavy.

"The bar took a hit this week. Lotta folks lost their homes, lotta mouths to feed."

"I spent most of what I had making sure people weren't starving in the streets."

Lukas… didn't respond.

Because what the hell was he supposed to say?

"Damn, sucks to be you"?!

It was his fault that people needed the help in the first place.

And yet, Vander had spent his own savings to fix a mess he didn't even know Lukas caused.

It sat uncomfortably in his chest.

Like swallowing a stone.

---

Vander exhaled and tapped the bar.

"I can buy the Vodka. Five Silver Gears each."

"And one bottle of Gin.Twenty three Silver."

"The Whiskey… I can't afford."

"But if you find the right buyer? Could sell for 80 Silver. Maybe more."

Lukas nodded slowly.

It was a fair deal.

But even so…

That guilt in his stomach?

Still churning.

So after a moment—

He made a decision.

He grabbed the Whiskey bottle.

Grabbed two glasses.

And poured.

---

Vander raised a brow.

"What are you doing?"

Lukas slid one of the glasses toward him.

"Giving it to you."

Vander frowned.

"For free?"

"Yeah. A gift."

Vander tilted his head.

"I don't take charity."

Lukas smirked.

"Good. 'Cause this ain't charity. It's a thank-you."

Vander narrowed his eyes.

"For what?"

Lukas hesitated.

Then shrugged.

"For keeping this place standing. For keeping people safe."

"For doing more for Zaun than these Chem-Barons have in years."

For a moment, Vander just stared at him.

Then—

He sighed.

And picked up the glass.

---

"You shouldn't be drinking."

Lukas smirked.

"Then don't watch."

And with that, he knocked back the drink.

The burn hit instantly.

Rich. Strong. Smooth as hell.

"Damn. That's good."

Vander chuckled, shaking his head.

Then, after a pause—

He took a sip too.

---

For a moment, they just sat there.

Drinking.

Resting.

Letting the silence sit.

And then, quietly—

Vander spoke.

"Your parents… I remember them."

Lukas stilled.

Vander swirled the Whiskey in his glass.

"I still remember that time when Alonzo got rejected by your mom. That was a rough night."

A small, tired smirk.

"Guy moped for weeks. We never let him live it down."

Lukas let out a quiet chuckle.

"Sounds like a dumbass."

Vander smiled.

"Yeah. He was."

And for the first time in a long time—

Lukas felt something settle inside him.

Like maybe, just maybe—

It was okay to sit still for a while.

---

The whiskey sat half-finished between them, but neither was in a hurry to drink the rest.

Lukas leaned forward, resting his arms on the bar.

Vander just sat there, rolling the glass between his fingers, staring at nothing in particular.

Neither of them spoke for a while.

And for once?

That was fine.

---

Lukas wasn't the kind of guy who liked awkward silence.

But this?

This wasn't awkward.

It was tired.

It was familiar.

Like two people who didn't need to say much—because what was there to say?

---

Vander let out a slow breath.

"You remind me of him, y'know."

Lukas blinked, glancing up.

"Who? My dad?"

Vander gave a small, quiet nod.

Lukas snorted.

"Didn't know he was this short."

Vander huffed a laugh.

"Wasn't about the height."

He shook his head.

"It's the attitude. The way you carry yourself."

"Like the world can throw whatever it wants at you, and you'll just keep going."

A pause.

Then, almost amused—

"Cocky little shit, just like you."

Lukas smirked.

"Sounds exhausting."

"Oh, it was."

---

Vander took another sip of whiskey, exhaling through his nose.

Then, quieter—

"You had anyone looking out for you? After the bridge?"

Lukas paused.

His grip on his glass tightened slightly.

"Not really."

He could feel Vander's eyes on him.

Heavy. Searching.

"So you've been on your own this whole time."

Lukas shrugged.

"Yeah. It's not that bad."

"…It is."

Lukas glanced at him.

Vander's expression had darkened.

Not angry. Not pitying.

Just guilty.

---

Vander leaned forward, rubbing his temples.

"Damn kid. I should've known."

Lukas frowned.

"Known what?"

Vander sighed, shaking his head.

"That you were out there. That you had no one. That you needed…"

He trailed off, lips pressing into a thin line.

Like he wasn't even sure what he was trying to say.

Lukas looked down at his drink.

"Wasn't your responsibility."

"Should've been."

---

The silence stretched again.

Not tense.

Not weird.

Just… there.

Lukas didn't know what to say.

Vander didn't seem to either.

So instead, they just sat.

---

Eventually, Vander exhaled through his nose and sat back.

"You gonna stick around? Or you got plans?"

Lukas thought about that for a second.

Did he have plans?

Not really.

Well—other than eventually building his empire and recreating Rapture here, in Zaun MUAHAHAHAHAHA.

But that felt like something he probably shouldn't say out loud.

So instead, he just shrugged.

"We'll see."

Vander huffed a quiet chuckle.

"That's Alonzo talking."

Lukas rolled his eyes.

"Damn. I'm starting to feel bad for my mom."

Vander laughed at that.

A real one this time.

Not just tired.

Not just strained.

But real.

And for some reason?

That felt nice.