8

Various parts of the Alcove District leading to the Bridge of Progress were engulfed in flames. Narrow streets spewed smoke and embers as the tightly packed houses were consumed by the inferno. The screams of the wounded and the clamor of battle echoed through the air, intensifying the chaos.

The people of the Undercity were being relentlessly pushed back by the Enforcers. Amidst the darkened sky and raging fires, it was nearly impossible to discern who held the upper hand.

But Art, perched on a rooftop near the outskirts of the battle, had witnessed enough of the chaos while searching for the little girl's parents to understand what was happening.

Though the people from the Undercity had the numbers, the Enforcers were better equipped and organized, with superior weapons, armor, and training. 

It was a losing battle for the people from the Undercity.

And the sight of it all, the people killing each other— the blood that spilled, made Art's stomach churn.

He had always been sheltered from such things. Born in a first-world country in his previous life and now into a wealthy family in Piltover, he had never been exposed to this level of violence and suffering.

However, no matter how he felt, he knew he could not interfere. If it were known he was helping the other side, he would be branded a criminal. Besides, if the people from the Undercity were to defeat the Enforcers and make their way to Midtown, his parents would be the one in danger.

"Just find Seraphine's parents and get out," Art thought, as he continued to move across the rooftop, scanning the street below with Seraphine clinging to his back.

Fortunately, with his enhanced hearing, he soon heard voices calling out Seraphine's name, their cries so loud and desperate that they had almost become hoarse. He made his way over to the sound and saw a woman who resembled Seraphine, and a middle aged man with a worried expression etched on his wrinkled face.

They were amidst the chaos, with people running in all directions, trying to escape the ongoing the nearby clashes between Enforcers and the people from the Undercity.

Nevertheless, the couple frantically searched the crowd for their daughter, their faces etched with desperation.

Of course, Seraphine's parents weren't the only ones searching for their loved ones. At least a dozen others in the area were desperately looking for their missing family members. But Art had already decided that helping Seraphine would be his last act of kindness for the day, and he could only ignore the others with a heavy heart.

"That's them, isn't it?" Art asked, pointing towards them.

Seraphine's eyes lit up. "Yes! That's my mom and dad!" she exclaimed. 

I can finally get out of here. Art let out a relieved sigh and adjusted his stance. Using the billowing smoke as cover, he carefully descended from the rooftop, using his telekinesis magic to soften their landing. As soon as they touched the ground, he knelt down, letting Seraphine get off his back.

Then he stood back up and smiled warmly at her. "Be a good girl from now on and hold on to your parents hands tighter, okay?"

Seraphine nodded. "Thank you, Art. I will!"

"And do you remember our secret?" Art asked, his tone serious but kind.

Seraphine nodded again, coughing lightly. "I won't tell anyone, I promise."

"Good. Now, let's go to your parents."

Art walked Seraphine to her parents, and as soon as they saw her, their faces lit up with relief. They rushed forward, enveloping Seraphine in a tight hug.

Her mother, with tears streaming down her cheeks, held Seraphine close, her voice choked with emotion. "Oh, thank the stars! You're safe!" she exclaimed, her fingers gently stroking Seraphine's hair as if to reassure herself that her daughter was truly there.

"We can't thank you enough," her father added, his grip on Seraphine tightening as if afraid to let go. His eyes, red and swollen from tears, scanned her for any sign of injury,

Art waved it off. "No problem, I just happened to be passing by. Anyway, you guys need to get out of here. Follow the alley behind that row of houses," he said, pointing to a narrow path partially obscured by smoke that he had seen from above and knew was safe. "Seraphine and I came from there, it should lead you away from all of this mess."

"What about you?" Seraphine's father asked, his voice filled with concern.

"I, uh, I'll be fine," replied Art, coughing lightly. "I know my way around and can take care of myself."

But the two remained unconvinced by his words as Seraphine's mother gave Art a worried look. "Thank you, truly. But are you sure you'll be okay alone? How about you come with us?"

Art shook his head, coughing again. "I have to find my friend," he lied, hoping to put their minds at ease despite their good intention.

Though, that friend of mine got out before this shit show started. He cleared his throat and continued on to say. "We got separated in the chaos, and I can't leave without him. Your priority should be getting your daughter to safety."

Seraphine's father looked doubtful. "How about I help you find your friend? We can't just leave you here. It's too dangerous."

Art took a moment to think. I seriously need to get out of here; this smoke is burning my lungs. But I don't think they'll let me go alone, considering I'm still just a kid.

Just then, a gunshot rang out close by, causing Art to instinctively put his hands over his head and duck for cover.

Seriously, fuck this shit, I'm not dying from a stray bullet. 

He had enough and just wanted to get out of this mess, that much was clear. He had been saving his mana so that he could experiment with his new magic later tonight, but his life was more important.

After making his decision, Art stopped being stingy with his mana. Holding his breath, he secretly manipulated the smoke, using telekinesis magic to thicken the haze and envelop the surrounding area, making it nearly impossible for anyone to see more than a few feet ahead.

Using the cover he created, he flew into the air, just above the buildings. But before leaving, he had to ensure he fulfilled the promise that had brought him back to the battlefield.

He manipulated the smoke again, creating a clear path for Seraphine and her parents that he had pointed out earlier.

Art knew this would reveal his abilities to Seraphine's parents, but he didn't mind. They were good people, willing to risk their lives to help him find his "friend" amidst this chaos.

Their surprise at the unexpected scene was evident, but Art had no time to dwell on their reactions. "Come on, just follow the path," he said to himself silently, watching their hesitant expressions.

They looked around, as if searching for the person responsible... Or, they're probably searching for me.

Fortunately, they didn't waste a moment and quickly followed the path to safety he had created. "I better get a cut of your ticket sales revenue when you become a pop star," he joked to himself. 

With a sigh of relief, Art turned and flew higher, ascending to avoid the thick, choking smoke below. He stopped just below the clouds, taking deep breaths of fresh, premium air. Hopefully, I won't develop smoker's lungs with the amount of smoke I've just inhaled.

After taking a moment to take one final look at the scene below him, he shook his head, feeling disappointed that he couldn't do more to help. "Sorry, but I don't plan on dying today," he muttered to himself before flying back home.

He arrived a few minutes later, quietly landing on his balcony. From there, he could see the bustling streets below, filled with people whose attention had been caught by the Uprising in the Alcove District. Zalie and Lilah were among them, their faces etched with worry as they were in an argument with a carriage driver.

As Art watched from his balcony, he overheard Lilah's voice. "Please, we have to find our son. We'll pay you double, triple, whatever you want. Please, just take us there!"

The carriage driver, looking nervous, said, "I'm sorry, ma'am, sir, but I can't take you there. It's too dangerous."

Seeing this, Art couldn't bear to hear his parents in such distress, nor did he want them to put themselves in danger. "Mom, Dad," he called out, causing Zalie and Lilah to turn in surprise.

"Art?" Lilah gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as tears welled up in her eyes.

Zalie's expression shifted from worry to relief, but it was quickly replaced by anger. "Art, where have you been? We've been worried sick!"

"I, I just got home," replied Art.

"You stay there in your room. We're going to have a long talk," Zalie ordered, turning to the carriage driver. "Thank you for your time, but we won't be needing a ride anymore."

The driver nodded before quickly moving away.

Lilah and Zalie headed back towards the house, and only then did Art remember the situation he was in. He looked at his dirty clothes and panicked. "Shit, shit, shit."

He quickly unlocked the balcony door with telekinesis and darted to his room. Then, he hastily changed out of his clothes and hid them under the bed to get rid of the evidence.

Just as he finished, the front door opened and in came his parents. They immediately noticed something off about him—well, anyone would, considering how badly he smelled and there was soot smeared across parts of his face.

If that wasn't suspicious enough, his shirt was on backward. But he hadn't noticed and sighed in relief... Phew, safe. 

"Art, are you hurt?" Lilah exclaimed, rushing over to her son's side. "Your face is all dirty." She knelt down and wiped the soot from his cheek, her eyes scanning for any injuries.

Startled, Art turned to the mirror in his room and caught a glimpse of his reflection… ah fuck.

Naturally, what came next was a bombardment of questions.

"Were you near the explosions?"

"Should we go to the doctor?"

"I'm fine, really. " Art sighed, trying to calm them down. "Ezreal and I left before things escalated. I promise, I'm—"

Before he could finish his sentence, Art's legs gave out, folding like a cheap deck chair. The adrenaline that had kept him up through all the chaos finally faded away and with his mana reserves running on fumes, and his brain fried from watching way too many people kick the bucket, his body threw in the towel. 

He saw his parents rushing toward him, faces twisted with worry. "Fucking great..." was his last coherent thought before the world went dark. 

***

Meanwhile, on the other side of the battlefield after Art left, the flames of battle were dying down, but the remnants still raged on. Smoke and embers filled the air, and the ground was stained red with the blood of the fallen. Gunshots and explosions echoed in the distance. 

Vander was one of them. He was in a frenzy, blinded by rage, locked in a brutal struggle with two Enforcers. His gauntlets shattered their gas masks, his fists relentlessly pounding their faces until they stopped moving. He paused, chest heaving with exhaustion, his eyes still burning with anger.

At that moment, he heard footsteps behind him. He spun around quickly, thinking it was another enemy, but instead saw two little girls holding hands—one with pink hair and the other with blue.

Like a flame being doused with cold water, Vander's fury instantly faded. His mind cleared as he recognized the children. They were the daughters of his long-time friends, people he had grown up with in the Undercity alongside Silco.

Vander didn't know how they had ended up here, but getting them out safely became his immediate concern. 

He walked towards them. The pink-haired girl, the older sibling, looked around frantically before locking eyes with him. Her expression spoke volumes. 

Without a word, Vander understood what she was trying to say. He closed his eyes, inhaled the smoke-filled air, suppressed a cough, and sighed. He glanced to the side and gestured for them to look. The girls looked, and horror filled their eyes as they saw their parents' lifeless bodies. 

The pink-haired girl took several deep breaths, then lost the strength to stand. She collapsed to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably, while the blue-haired girl clung to her sister, burying her face in her shoulder. 

Not everyone was lucky enough to have a magic-obsessed boy to save them and their loved ones. 

Vander's heart ached at the sight as regret washed over him. "Wh-what have I done? Why couldn't I have found a more peaceful way?" he thought. "I've gotten so many of my friends, my people, killed."

He glanced down at his gauntleted hands, slick with blood. He'd had enough. Nothing good ever came from solving problems with violence. There had to be another way, but for now, he needed to get away. 

Vander released the gauntlets, and they hit the ground with a thud, cracking the earth beneath their weight. Then, he walked over to the two girls, gently lifting them into his arms and carried them away from the battlefield while the pink-haired girl stared at the gleaming cityscape of Piltover, her eyes burning with a vengeful resolve...