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

The Last Drop was quiet.

Not peaceful.

Not the kind of silence that lets you rest.

This was the kind of silence that came after a punch to the gut.

Heavy. Bitter. Suffocating.

They had come back from Piltover with nothing.

No patent.

No deal.

No future.

Just another reminder that Zaun didn't matter.

Vi leaned against the bar, arms crossed so tightly her knuckles were white.

Her foot tapped against the floor—fast, restless.

Milo sat on the stairs, scowling, shaking his head.

Ekko stood near Benzo, but his head was down, his small hands curled into fists.

Claggor hovered near Powder, trying to offer some kind of comfort—but what could he even say?

And Powder…

Powder stood at the center of it all, fingers gripping the hem of her sleeve.

Still. Silent.

Like a child trying not to cry.

They had been so hopeful.

When Lukas and Vander left, they thought—maybe this was it.

Maybe, just once, things would go their way.

Maybe, just once, the world wouldn't kick them down.

Maybe, just once, they could win.

But now…

Vi slammed her fist into the table, hard enough to shake it.

"FUCKING PIECES OF SHIT!"

Milo scoffed.

"Yeah. What'd you expect? Piltover's never given a damn about us."

Vi's breathing was heavy, her body tense.

"Yeah, but—I just—I thought—" She bit her lip. "I dunno what I thought."

Milo shook his head.

"Tch. That's the problem. You thought."

Ekko didn't say anything.

He just stared at the ground, jaw clenched so tight it looked painful.

Claggor put a hand on Powder's shoulder.

She flinched.

"Pow?"

Nothing.

She didn't yell.

Didn't stomp.

Didn't break anything.

She just stood there.

Small. Still.

Like she had already known, deep down, that this would happen.

That hope was always a lie.

And Lukas—

Lukas watched it all.

Watched as their hopes shattered into a thousand pieces.

Watched as that familiar, suffocating despair wrapped its hands around their throats.

It made his skin crawl.

His stomach twist.

His vision blur with something dangerous.

Something raging.

Because this?

This wasn't over.

If Piltover wouldn't help them—

Then they'd do it themselves.

---

That night, when everyone else finally went to bed, Lukas didn't sleep.

How could he?

His mind was burning.

His blood was boiling.

And in that dark, silent basement, he made a decision.

This was the last time he would ever feel powerless.

The last time they would be at someone else's mercy.

He would force this world to change.

No matter what it took.

A rustle.

A creak from the top bunk.

Then—

A whisper.

"Lukas…?"

Lukas turned.

Powder had climbed down from the top bunk, her small frame barely a shadow in the dim lantern light.

Her hair was messy—more than usual.

Her face was pale.

Her eyes?

Lost.

She sat beside him.

She didn't speak at first.

She just hugged her knees, curling into herself, like she was trying to disappear.

Then, barely above a whisper—

"They always win."

Lukas's breath stilled.

He said nothing.

He let her speak.

Because this wasn't just words.

This was pain.

This was every stolen dream, every dismissed voice, every ignored cry for help.

And Lukas understood it.

Too well.

---

Powder sniffed, rubbing at her nose.

She was fighting it—fighting the emotions welling up inside.

But the words still spilled out.

"Piltover. The enforcers. The people on top. They always win."

Her voice wavered.

"We always lose."

A bitter, broken laugh.

"Maybe Vi was right. Maybe it was stupid to even try—"

Her voice cracked.

Her hands clenched.

Her shoulders shook.

And then, finally—

She cried.

---

Lukas watched her.

His hands curled into fists.

His chest tightened with something deeper than anger.

Something primal.

Something unforgivable.

---

He had seen this before.

Not just in the series.

Not just in this world.

In his old life.

In every slum. Every forgotten street. Every broken system designed to keep the poor in their place.

Where the rich lived like gods—

And the poor, the unwanted, the forgotten, suffered beneath them.

Where children like Powder, like Ekko, like himself, were told from birth that they were worth less.

That their dreams didn't matter.

That they would never change anything.

No.

Lukas moved before he even realized it.

His hand found Powder's head.

He rested it there.

Firm. Steady.

And then—

He spoke.

"They won't win forever."

Powder hiccupped, looking up at him through blurry eyes.

He wasn't looking at her.

He was staring ahead—but not at the room.

Not at anything she could see.

His eyes were fixed on something far beyond.

Something that didn't exist yet.

Something that was still waiting to be born.

A dream.

A promise.

---

Powder wiped her nose with her sleeve, voice still shaking.

"You're just saying that."

Her words were small. Shaky.

Like she wanted to believe him—

But couldn't.

Not yet.

Not when every single time they had dared to hope, they had been crushed.

Lukas finally turned to her.

And then—

He told her.

"I'm gonna build a city."

Powder blinked.

Her mouth parted slightly, eyes wide.

Lukas's hands tightened into fists.

His words came slow. Steady.

Like iron being forged into steel.

"A city where Zaunites don't have to beg at Piltover's feet."

"A city where no one is born shackled, destined to forever be bound to ignorance."

"A city where the poor aren't crushed under the weight of the elite."

"A city where genius is free to breathe."

"A city where dreams don't die."

"A city where people like you, Powder, can be anything they want to be."

---

Powder just stared.

Something in her chest twisted.

She wanted to believe him.

She needed to.

But she had seen too much.

She had watched too many people get crushed beneath the weight of what is.

"That's… impossible."

Lukas let out a slow breath.

"No, it's not."

She shook her head.

"Cities don't just appear out of nowhere, Lukas. We don't have anything. No money, no help, no one who gives a shit about us."

She wiped her face angrily.

"They won't let you do it. They'll kill you before you even get close."

Lukas stared at her.

For a long moment, he didn't speak.

Then—

He smirked.

"Then I'll just have to do the impossible."

---

Powder's breath hitched.

His voice—

It wasn't arrogant.

It wasn't even hopeful.

It was just…

Certain.

---

"You really think you can do it?" she asked, voice small.

Lukas leaned forward.

"I know I can."

---

And then—

For the first time in her life—

She felt it.

---

Powder had never believed in miracles.

Miracles didn't happen in Zaun.

Miracles happened to people in Piltover.

Miracles happened to people who had money.

Who had power.

Zaunites?

They didn't get miracles.

They got survival.

But Lukas?

Lukas wasn't talking about survival.

He was talking about change.

Real, actual change.

And for the first time—

She believed him.

---

A small, hesitant smile crept onto her face.

One that wasn't broken.

One that wasn't bitter.

One that was real.

"…That sounds nice."

Lukas exhaled.

The first ember of Rapture was born.

A dream, small but burning.

A fire waiting to consume the old world.

A promise.

And it started here.

---

Powder yawned, exhaustion finally winning.

Then, without a word—

She curled up beside him.

Small. Tired.

But not hopeless anymore.

Not after tonight.

---

A screen flickered to life before him, glowing softly in the dark.

[BIOSHOCK SYSTEM – LEVEL 5]

[AVAILABLE POINTS: 2,830]

Lukas exhaled, fingers moving through the glowing interface.

It was time.

---

[PLASMIDS]

[Incinerate!] – 400 Points

[Telekinesis] – 400 Points

[Winter Blast] – 400 Points

[Insect Swarm] – 400 Points

...

Two choices.

Two new weapons.

---

[Incinerate!]

Fire. Pure, untamed destruction.

A symbol of rebellion.

A symbol of defiance.

A reminder to the world that he would not be caged.

---

[Telekinesis]

Control. Precision. Power without limits.

A builder's tool. A fighter's weapon.

A way to reshape the world at will.

Lukas smirked.

"I'll take both."

The syringes would appear in the morning.

He'd inject them then.

For now—

He planned.

---

His eyes flicked to the new tab that had just unlocked.

[GENE TONICS]

[EVE Saver] – 300 Points

[Armored Shell] – 500 Points

[Slim-Down] – 100 Points

...

Lukas exhaled.

The EVE Saver was obvious.

His Plasmids were powerful, but they drained energy too fast.

And Armored Shell…

Zaun was dangerous.

Piltover was dangerous.

Every ounce of protection mattered.

Every advantage counted.

---

But not tonight.

Tonight, he would let Powder sleep.

Tomorrow—

He would become stronger.

He would take the next step toward Rapture.

---

His fingers clenched.

The System flickered out.

Lukas closed his eyes.

A city.

Their city.

A future built with their own hands.

A world where no one would beg for progress.

Where no one would beg to be seen.

Where the powerful would no longer decide who deserved to exist.

---

A city where Powder could build without fear.

A city where Ekko would never be left behind.

A city where Vi would never need to fight to be heard.

A city where no one would ever call them weak again.

---

A city that belonged to them.

A city that would rise from the ashes.

A city that would change the world.

"My Rapture."