Song: Bite marks (Teya)
Piltover’s people saw themselves as innovators.
But first and foremost, they were merchants.
They knew an opportunity when they saw one, and the way they stared at the mobile phones…
There was a hunger in their eyes that bordered on madness.
A deafening uproar erupted throughout the ballroom.
Everyone wanted a piece of that tantalizing pie, and Hope had no choice but to act as a shield for her wife and take charge of the discussion.
“Have you already decided on production sites?
And are you considering partnerships?”
“Mikaelson Technologies will establish its headquarters and factories in the Undercity,” Hope replied.
“But of course, we will welcome outside investment.”
Silence followed.
“You intend to develop this product in the Undercity?”
“No one will invest there.”
Hope smiled.
“It is the inventor’s home.”
She paused, letting the words settle.
“And make no mistake.
Welcoming investment does not mean we depend on it.”
That was when the crowd remembered exactly who they were dealing with.
The Mikaelsons were undoubtedly one of the wealthiest clans in the city.
Their fortune rivaled even that of the Medardas, a dynasty whose riches had been accumulated through conquest.
But then their eyes drifted back to the mobile phones.
As merchants, they knew those devices would one day change the face of Runeterra.
And so they found themselves facing a dilemma.
The Mikaelsons were too powerful to be bullied.
They would not bow to pressure or surrender the designs behind their technology.
And they were far too powerful to be ignored.
Mel and Cassandra watched the scene in astonishment.
This would force Piltover to invest in the Undercity.
That was the Mikaelsons’ plan.
Make the Undercity attractive enough that ignoring it would mean losing access to an opportunity too valuable to pass up.
It was a masterstroke.
And yet, there would always be those unwilling to play the game.
Would the Mikaelsons be strong enough to overcome those obstacles?
Only time would tell.
Jinx POV
As she stood on the veranda, gazing out at the city’s extravagant lights, Jinx thought back over the last few hours.
Without Hope, none of this would have been possible.
They had a chance now.
She only hoped they had made the right choice.
She could still feel the disgust.
The anger.
That relentless hatred consuming her from within.
She would have killed them if Hope hadn’t been there beside her.
“You’re thinking too much,” Hope said, wrapping her arms around her.
“I’m thinking just enough.
Are you done negotiating with those Pilties?”
“They’re having a hard time accepting that they’ll only get a stake in our project if we allow it,” Hope replied.
“They’re not used to being on the other side of the bridge.”
“No,” Jinx said quietly.
“They’re not.”
“But this is the best way we’ve found.”
“My family’s fortune could help revitalize Zaun, but then Piltover would once again escape its responsibilities.”
“No.”
“The money will come from their pockets.”
“And they’ll hand it over gladly…
or they’ll be left behind.”
Hope smiled faintly.
“There’s nothing worse for a merchant.”
Jinx sighed.
“I just feel like we’re becoming like those snobs.”
“Once again, we’ve made decisions for Zaun without caring what its people actually think.”
“This won’t erase the resentment between the two cities.”
“Some people might even resent us for interfering.”
Jinx’s voice softened.
“Did we really make the right choice, Hope?”
Jinx felt her wife’s lips press gently against her forehead.
“There was no right choice.”
“We could have built this company without their involvement, but the danger our factories would have faced would only have escalated.”
“They never would have allowed us to prosper quietly.”
“Now, if they cut off one of our fingers…”
“…they’ll be cutting off one of their own as well.”
Hope held her a little tighter.
“Sometimes there is no right choice.”
“Only the least terrible one.”
“Have you spoken to Cassandra yet?” Jinx asked.
“Not yet.
I will when there are fewer people around.”
“Do you think she’ll agree to release her?”
“If we offer her a few incentives, she might.
We could frame it as compensation for the building you destroyed.”
“And if she refuses?” This chapter was copied from novelping.com without permission.
Hope’s expression hardened.
“Then I’ll stop being nice.”
The fireworks lit up the city one final time.
Held in Hope’s arms, Jinx forgot about the crowd for a few precious moments and simply enjoyed the spectacle of light.
She grimaced when the fireworks took the shape of Heimerdinger…
…and then Jayce Talis.
Suddenly, the ground trembled beneath them.
At first, the guests assumed it was part of the grand finale.
In a way, they were right.
It was an explosion.
Before the horrified eyes of the crowd, a torrent of green flames engulfed a building in the distance.
“I don’t think that was planned,” Jinx murmured.
With her vampire hearing, she could already hear the screams of terror in the distance.
The screams of the victims.
“No!
My workshop!” she heard someone cry out nearby.
Jayce Talis himself—the so-called Man of Progress—stood clutching his head, staring in horror at the burning building.
Under different circumstances, Jinx might have laughed.
But instead, she felt a rare flicker of sympathy.
She knew how much time, effort, and obsession could go into a project.
“We need to leave,” Hope said, already trying to guide her wife toward the exit.
“Something’s about to happen.”
“Dad,” she called, warning Klaus.
He simply nodded.
The drunken expression he had been wearing vanished in an instant.
And then—
Every window around them exploded.
Then the shadows emerged.
Ropes dropped from the shattered glass ceiling above.
The cloaked figures descended one after another, their boots crunching against the broken glass scattered across the floor.
At the same moment, the ballroom doors burst open.
A squad of ten Enforcers rushed inside and surrounded the five hooded figures.
Held at gunpoint, the intruders remained perfectly still.
Then, one by one, each of them pulled out a familiar bottle.
Shimmer.
The liquid glowed with its usual vivid pink hue.
But in that moment, it looked less like a drug…
…and more like a bomb waiting to detonate.
“This is about to go to shit,” Jinx muttered.
Someone nearby coughed at her vulgarity.
As though acting on a silent signal, the intruders raised the bottles to their lips and drank the liquid in a single gulp.
The Enforcers began to tremble.
One of them fired.
Unfortunately, the bullet had only one effect.
It knocked back one of the intruders’ hoods.
An emaciated face was revealed beneath it.
The others followed, throwing back their hoods and revealing their faces.
Two women.
Three men.
Faces that looked as though they had never seen the sun.
Jinx had seen that before among those who lived deep within Zaun’s fissures.
Society’s forgotten.
But these five were different from the people she had known.
Those who lived in the depths usually carried the unmistakable weight of defeat.
These intruders did not.
They looked happy.
Almost joyful.
As though, in that precise moment, they were exactly where they were meant to be.
Then they screamed.
Their bodies twisted and deformed.
Under the effects of the Shimmer, flesh swelled and muscles expanded, transforming them into grotesque masses of misshapen muscle.
Yet the agony only seemed to deepen the euphoria written across their faces.
Then the screaming stopped.
Only their labored breathing remained.
A second later, one enormous fist came crashing down on an Enforcer’s skull.
The man collapsed to the floor.
The killer stared at his hand, now covered in blood and brain matter.
Then he looked toward the remaining guards…
…and smiled with predatory hunger.
The other four charged the guards.
The battle was brutal.
The Enforcers fired again and again, but the monsters seemed completely immune to pain.
Then another door burst open, and a second squad of Enforcers rushed into the ballroom.
The rattle of machine-gun fire immediately followed.
They had barely crossed the threshold before they were engulfed in a storm of bullets.
The shots came from two figures clinging to the shattered window frames above— figures no one had noticed.
The result was a massacre.
Only three Enforcers remained alive, one of them wounded and crawling across the floor, when the killers finally turned their attention toward the guests.
“Run!” Cassandra Kiramman shouted.
Some listened.
They rushed toward one of the exits in a blind panic.
Among them was Jayce Talis’s mother, whom her son quickly swept into his arms.
Others were not so fortunate.
They were met with a hail of bullets.
Unfortunately, Cassandra’s shout had drawn attention to her.
One of the women turned toward the Councilor— and charged.
At least, until a bullet tore through her skull and killed her instantly.
Behind her stood a young woman in an Enforcer uniform, a smoking rifle still raised in her hands.
Cassandra’s eyes widened in horror.
“Caitlyn!” she screamed.
But before she could reach her, a massive hand sent her daughter crashing to the floor.
Caitlyn slowly pushed herself back up, clutching her chest.
She spat blood onto the ground.
Her gaze locked onto the rifle lying only a few feet away.
The man who had attacked her was closing in fast.
Cassandra desperately tried to reach her daughter, but the panicked crowd made it nearly impossible to move forward.
Then a voice rang out across the ballroom.
“Enough.”
A lone figure walked casually through the chaos.
Even beneath the screams, the sound of her footsteps echoed across the tiled floor.
“Enough.”
The man threatening Caitlyn was suddenly engulfed in flames.
Then, like a spreading contagion, the other attackers burst into fire one after another before the stunned eyes of the crowd.
Hope’s eyes glowed as she unleashed her power.
The monsters screamed.
The gunmen fell from their perches and writhed across the floor in agony.
The shooters eventually went still.
But fire alone was not enough to stop the Shimmer-enhanced monsters.
One by one, they rose again.
Then, as though sharing a single thought, they turned their attention toward the same target.
Hope.
She sighed as she watched them approach.
Hope POV
It was always the same.
Always her standing between the world and its monsters.
Would she never learn her lesson?
She hadn’t wanted to intervene.
Piltover’s elite had the means to protect themselves.
But the moment they went after Caitlyn, Hope had decided to act.
Because she needed Cassandra’s signature.
That was the practical reason.
But perhaps it was also because Caitlyn had a good heart.
Hope refused to listen to that small part of herself that simply wanted to protect.
Hadn’t she already given enough to the world?
Hadn’t she sworn she would never play the hero again?
Hope sighed.
Then lightning struck the woman lunging toward her face.
Hope’s eyes widened as the figure convulsed on the floor.
A familiar weapon pressed against the woman’s forehead.
And ended her life without hesitation.
“Stop trying to do everything solo, babe.”
Jinx stood there with a pistol in her hand, its metal engraved with the crest of their family.
Then she opened fire on the three remaining monsters, hurling bolts of lightning from her free hand between shots.
Suddenly, a figure leapt onto one of the men’s backs and snapped his neck cleanly.
“My littlest wolf,” Klaus said with a grin, “leave some fun for the rest of us.”
Hope smiled.
“Then let’s play.”
She conjured a sword and launched herself at the two remaining attackers.
For the next several seconds, gunfire thundered through the ballroom.
The final two men proved surprisingly resilient, slipping through their attacks like eels.
Eventually, Hope lost patience.
Vines erupted from the floor and coiled around their bodies, locking them in place.
A heartbeat later, their heads hit the ground beneath the edge of her blade.
The Mikaelsons stood among the corpses, covered in blood, beneath the stunned gazes of the crowd.
Then a battalion of Enforcers stormed into the ballroom, weapons drawn.
They stopped.
Their eyes moved across the bodies scattered over the floor.
Confusion spread across their faces.
“Better late than never,” Klaus remarked sarcastically.
⸻
Deep within the fissures of Zaun, luxury was a distant dream.
A group of hooded figures stood together in quiet discussion when someone came running toward them, breathless.
The newcomer leaned close and whispered into one of their ears.
“What do you mean they failed?”
“Not even a single Councilor’s head?”
“Calm yourself.”
“It changes nothing.”
“Our plan remains intact.”
“We have only just begun.”
“They will all fall.”
“The Chem-Barons…”
“…and the merchants of Piltover.”
The hooded figure’s voice lowered.
“It is his will.”