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

Lukas closed the door behind him.

And there she was.

Powder.

Pretending to be busy.

Fingers tapping idly against the wooden railing, gaze flicking up at him for just a second before darting away again.

She wasn't fooling anyone.

Lukas sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets.

She looked… off.

Her usual spark—gone. Her restless energy—dimmed.

And then, when she finally turned to face him fully—

He saw it.

A bruise.

Dark and ugly, blooming across her pale cheek like ink spilled on paper.

His stomach twisted.

"Powder."

His voice was softer than he expected.

She flinched.

Lukas stepped forward, reaching out—instinct, pure instinct—

She took a step back.

"I—I'm fine," she mumbled.

Lukas froze.

Her voice—too small. Too fragile.

Something inside him burned.

"What happened?"

She swallowed. Avoided his gaze.

"I—I tried to hold onto the bag. But they were too strong."

Her hands clenched into fists.

"I got punched. I lost the loot."

Lukas inhaled sharply.

A child.

A child with a fucking bruise on her face.

His hands twitched.

She shouldn't have had to fight for anything. She shouldn't have been out there, risking herself, getting hurt.

Lukas forced himself to breathe.

To swallow down the boiling rage clawing at his chest.

Powder looked ashamed.

Like she had failed.

Lukas hated that.

He hated that so much.

"Come with me."

His voice was steady.

Powder hesitated.

Then—

She nodded.

---

The Last Drop was empty.

The only sounds were the distant drip of a leaking pipe and the faint hum of the city outside.

Lukas led Powder to a table near the bar. Pulled out a chair.

She sat without question.

Still quiet.

Still lost in her own head.

Lukas sat across from her, exhaling slowly.

Then—

He opened the System.

---

[AVAILABLE POINTS: 1230]

[SELECTED: POTATO CHIPS – 30 POINTS]

Ding.

A small, crinkling bag of potato chips materialized out of thin air.

Powder's eyes widened.

For the first time all night—

She lit up.

"What is that?!"

Lukas tossed her the bag.

"Food."

She barely hesitated before tearing it open, stuffing a handful into her mouth.

It was a familiar sight—Powder devouring food like she hadn't eaten in weeks.

He let her eat.

Let her have this moment.

She wasn't even surprised by his bullshit anymore.

---

Silence stretched between them.

The only sound was the quiet crunch of chips.

Lukas let it linger.

Let her settle.

Then—

"You know that stunt today was dangerous, right?"

Powder slowed her chewing.

Didn't look at him.

Didn't respond.

Lukas leaned forward.

"Like—really dangerous."

Still, nothing.

Lukas exhaled.

"Vi could've died."

That made her flinch.

Her grip on the chip bag tightened.

Lukas softened.

"I get it, Powder."

His voice was lower now.

"You wanted to help."

She nodded weakly.

Lukas rested his elbows on the table, watching her carefully.

"But you don't have to prove yourself to anyone. Not like this."

Powder swallowed.

Then, finally—

"I just wanted to help."

Her voice was small.

Lukas sighed.

"You did. You're smart. You're… brilliant, Powder."

He leaned back.

"But surviving is more important than proving something to anyone."

Powder fidgeted with the empty bag.

She looked so young.

Lukas hesitated.

Then—

He asked the question that had been pressing against his ribs since the moment he saw her.

"Powder."

She looked up.

His eyes locked onto hers.

"Do you still have the stones?"

Her breath hitched.

Lukas watched her carefully.

She hesitated.

"…How did you know about that?"

Lukas didn't answer.

He just held her gaze.

Silent.

Steady.

After a long moment, Powder's shoulders slumped.

And then—

She reached into her pocket.

And pulled them out.

Three small, glowing, blue gems.

Lukas's stomach twisted.

There they were.

The catalyst.

The spark that would ignite everything.

The Hextech Gems.

Powder stared at them, then at him.

Her voice wavered.

"Do you know what they are?"

Lukas reached forward.

Took the stones from her gently.

Rolled them between his fingers.

They pulsed.

Alive.

Powerful.

He exhaled.

And then—

His next words came slow.

Measured.

Careful.

"They're the dreams of a foolish man."

Powder frowned.

Lukas set the stones down on the table, staring at them.

Then, without looking up—

"If anything happens."

His voice was steady.

"If you feel unsafe. If you're ever in danger. If something happens to Vi, or to Ekko, or to anyone—"

He finally met her gaze.

"Call for me."

His eyes burned.

"And I'll come."

Powder inhaled sharply.

Her fingers twitched.

Then—

She stood up.

And hugged him.

Tight.

Like she was afraid he'd disappear.

Like he was the only thing keeping her from breaking.

Lukas let out a slow breath.

His hand hovered for a second—

Then rested gently against the back of her head.

He didn't speak.

Didn't move.

Just let her hold onto him.

And as he stared at the Hextech Gems still sitting on the table—

A troubled expression flickered across his face.

Because this?

This changed everything.

He had to change the future.

---

Deep beneath Zaun—where the air was thick, where the walls sweated with chemical rot, where the city above forgot that life still stirred—

A lab stood.

Hidden. Waiting.

Glass vials lined rusted steel shelves, filled with liquids that pulsed and shimmered like living things. The air was heavy—wrong.

And in the center of it all—

Two men.

One, standing near a reinforced cage, his single eye fixed on the horror inside.

The other, adjusting dials with the precision of a surgeon, his expression empty.

Silco inhaled slowly.

Then exhaled.

"Show me."

---

Singed did not hesitate.

He reached for a lever.

Pulled.

The small drip feeder attached to the cage released a single drop of violet.

The rat inside the cage—small, weak, pathetic—twitched.

Its tiny, skeletal frame flinched at the sudden presence of the other occupant.

A cat.

Big. Powerful. A predator.

The rat cowered.

But then—

The shimmering purple drop landed in its water dish.

The rat sniffed.

Its tiny nose twitched.

A moment of hesitation.

Then—

It drank.

---

Silco watched.

The transformation was immediate.

The rat's muscles jerked, spasmed.

Its tiny bones cracked, twisted, expanded.

Veins pulsed a deep, unnatural violet beneath its fur.

It convulsed—once, twice—then stilled.

The cat, sensing weakness, pounced.

And then—

The rat moved.

Faster than it should have.

Teeth bared, eyes burning, body swollen monstrous.

A shriek.

A flash of red.

And then silence.

The cat lay still.

Its throat torn out.

Its body devoured.

The rat stood victorious.

Breathing. Pulsing. Thriving.

Silco exhaled slowly.

His lips curled into a smile.

"It works."

---

Singed did not react.

His hands moved—quiet, methodical—as he recorded the final data.

Silco turned, glancing at the doctor.

"And the side effects?"

Singed tilted his head.

"Pain," he said simply. "Unlike any other."

A beat.

Silco smiled.

"Good."

---

The first step toward Zaun's future had been written in blood and shimmer.

Silco folded his arms, still watching the cage.

But something in his face had changed.

A shadow behind his gaze.

Doubt?

No.

Something deeper.

After a long moment, he finally spoke.

"And our other project?"

Singed hesitated.

Just for a fraction of a second.

Then—

He turned.

Walked toward a reinforced cabinet near the back of the lab.

Metal locks clicked.

The door groaned open.

And from within—

Singed retrieved a small glass canister.

Inside?

A sickly green mist.

Silco's eye flickered.

"...It's ready?"

Singed stepped forward.

Placed the canister on the table between them.

His fingers traced the cold glass.

"The neurotoxin was designed decades ago," he said evenly. "A weapon meant to safeguard Piltover from the dangers of unchecked magic."

His voice was clinical. Distant.

"Hidden away in the archives of the Academy."

Silco's eye flickered.

Singed continued.

"I managed to obtain the formula during my time under Professor Heimerdinger."

"The process of manufacturing it was... difficult."

"But now?"

He tapped the glass.

"It is perfected."

---

Silco stared at the toxin.

Unmoving. Unblinking.

A relic of an age when Piltover feared what it could not control.

A weapon that did not kill—

But erased.

A severance.

A nerve agent capable of ripping a mage away from their own power.

And now?

Now it belonged to him.

Silco's fingers curled against the metal table.

He inhaled.

Then exhaled.

"Our goal is not destruction," he murmured.

Singed did not respond.

Silco's voice remained calm.

"We need leverage."

His gaze darkened.

"And if we are to build something greater, we must make sure no one stands in our way."

A beat.

Silco's eye flickered.

His thoughts shifted—

To Lukas.

The boy with the burning eyes.

The boy who dared to dream.

Silco's lips pressed into a thin line.

Lukas Fontaine was dangerous.

Not just because of his gift.

But because of his mind.

There was something familiar about him.

A fire that Silco had only ever seen in one other person.

His chest tightened.

For a brief moment, he thought of Vander.

Old wounds. Old betrayals.

Old regrets.

Then—

He crushed the thought.

He opened his eye again.

Cold. Calculating.

"Lukas Fontaine will be pivotal to Zaun's future."

His fingers curled against the table.

"But he must not be allowed to stand in my way."

His gaze flickered to the gas.

One day…

He will understand.