59 - The Obituary of Idealism

"It has no meaning? Our very existence is the greatest meaning."

"It may be just a faint breeze now, barely noticeable, but soon, it will roar, calling out to all the oppressed and exploited in the world: Rise up, fight!"

"It will become a storm that sweeps across the world, tearing down the decayed and outdated order, building a truly progressive new one, where everyone can live with dignity."

Cipher set down his teacup, scoffing at Camille's rhetoric.

"Your words sound eerily similar to speeches I've heard before. Beautiful rhetoric that crumbles at first contact with reality."

"Reality is whatever we forge it to be," Cipher said. "The history of progress has always been written by those who refused to accept the 'reality' handed to them."

To him, Camille was just another example of someone beaten into submission by reality, once a rebel, now molded into the shape of the very system they once opposed.

Back then, with just rifles and grit, people took down aircraft, artillery, and entire tank divisions. Compared to that, the struggle in Piltover and Zaun was nothing.

How could he abandon Zaun, the place that nurtured him, for Piltover?

Every inch of land, paid for in blood. Even if they had to build a new Bridge of Progress with flesh and bone, the fight must go on.

"You're an anomaly," Camille said. "Your ideas, your innovations, even your speech patterns... they don't quite belong here. It's as if you've been transplanted from somewhere else."

"We're all strangers somewhere. Some of us just hide it better than others."

"Oh, really? Let me tell you something, the Clan Ferros is the true ruler of Piltover."

"The councilors? Just puppets we put in place, including that so-called Noxian Councilor, Mel Medarda."

"The Clan Ferros' hidden power is beyond your imagination. Even if you've developed explosive rounds, that doesn't mean Zaun and Piltover stand on equal footing."

"You really think your inventions have changed the balance of power?" she continued. "We could wipe out half of Zaun tomorrow if profit margins allowed for it."

"Yet you're sitting here, attempting to persuade rather than eliminate," Cipher pointed out. "Curious approach for someone with such overwhelming power."

"Even your own puppets don't always dance to your strings," he added. "Mel has been investing in Zaun's infrastructure, hardly the actions of a loyal Piltover asset."

"Test subjects often think they have autonomy. It's part of the experiment."

Camille narrowed her eyes, a dangerous glint flashing in them.

She set her teacup down, hands resting neatly over her stomach, her right leg crossing over her left in the perfect posture of high society.

Despite the extensive augmentations, she still exuded a strange elegance, as if the word itself had been crafted for her.

"We need minds like yours, not corpses," she said. "Join us, and you can improve conditions in Zaun through sanctioned channels."

"Sanctioned channels..." Cipher repeated with disdain. "Where progress moves at the pace of a dying turtle, carefully managed to never threaten Piltover's supremacy."

"Your associate Viktor has already begun to see reason. The glorious evolution, as he calls it, could be better achieved with Piltover's resources."

"So what? We should just surrender?"

Cipher sneered, body tense, ready to turn hostile at any moment.

If surrendering was the answer just because the fight seemed unwinnable, if compromise was the solution every time things got tough, then they would never earn true respect.

Fear of bloodshed, fear of sacrifice, such fears only doomed one to a life of servitude.

"Surrender? No, just making the right choice. Let go of your naive fantasies and accept reality."

"Come with me to the Clan Ferros. I promise your loved ones will be well taken care of, and Zaun's situation will improve. But if you refuse…"

Camille put her teacup down.

A pause.

Then, her expression turned ice-cold, her voice like the howling winds of Siberia.

"Then I can only offer my apologies, to you, to your family, and to Zaun."

"Should I take that as a threat?"

Seeing that Camille wasn't making a move yet, Cipher's hands remained hidden in the shadows, one gripping a mechanical detonator, the other clutching his Wingman.

Right side, window, three seconds to cover. Left side, door, unknown danger. Center, dive under table, provide momentary cover.

"A threat? No. This is reality. If we're not friends, then we're enemies."

A faint white glow flickered across Camille's scissor legs.

"When the tide recedes, the shore is left littered with stranded fish. I understand your desire to save them, but how many can you truly save?"

"The strong dictate the rules of the world. Survival is built on the law of the jungle. No matter how noble your intentions, no matter how righteous your cause, reality remains merciless. And in the face of that, you have no choice but to accept defeat."

"You're a smart young man. You should know that coming with me is the wisest decision. Resistance is meaningless, it will only lead to more bloodshed."

Her patience was wearing thin. If Cipher still refused, she would have no choice but to capture and imprison him.

Through drugs and magic, they could force him to appear as though he had defected to Piltover, severing ties with Zaun.

Then, with an iron fist, they would prop up a puppet leader in Zaun, dismantling its resistance step by step.

She had no intention of killing him, at least, not yet.

He was Swain's man. Killing him outright would be tantamount to declaring war on the Noxian Grand General.

And with Cipher's influence in the Undercity, if he suddenly turned up dead, it wouldn't matter who was truly responsible or whether there was any proof, the Zaunites would blame Piltover.

Then, like rabid beasts, they would charge at the Upper City in a frenzy.

With Flatlines and explosive rounds in their hands, their firepower would be terrifying. Even if the uprising was crushed, the casualties on Piltover's side would be immense.

And if someone were to send in an elite strike team, unbound by rules, infiltrating Piltover to wreak havoc on its industrial infrastructure, the resulting damage would be catastrophic.

By then, even if she personally intervened, it would be impossible to clean up the mess. Piltover's economy would be set back at least a decade.

Camille had shown patience and sincerity in persuading him, not just because she valued talent, but because Cipher was indeed a troublesome opponent, not easy to deal with.

After all, Piltover relied on Zaun for cheap labor. Zaun's population was part of Piltover's wealth.

She couldn't simply deploy airships to indiscriminately bomb Zaun from above. Destroying the Undercity meant blowing up Piltover's own purse.

That was why Piltover's bloody suppression of Zaun primarily targeted the hardline resistance leaders. Most Zaunites, even the moderates, were still to be spared.

The more Zaunites that died, the greater Piltover's economic loss.

"Perhaps I've been fighting too long..." Cipher suddenly said with weariness. "What has it gotten me besides sleepless nights and constant danger?"

"The wise know when to negotiate and when to fight," Camille replied. "This is the former."

"You're right. If I go with you, I'll live. I'll have power, status, money, and no shortage of beautiful women. There's no reason for me to refuse."

"Your pulse quickened. Your pupils dilated."

Camille shook her head slightly, barely noticeable.

"Next time, remember, don't try acting in front of someone with more experience than you."

She moved without warning, lunging forward, cutting through air as she sliced toward Cipher's legs.

"What happened to the negotiation?" Cipher called out mid-dodge. "To the wise knowing when to fight?"

"This is merely punctuation to emphasize my point."

With Piltover's advanced neuro-network and limb replacement technology, reattaching severed limbs was easy.

Since they had already turned against each other, Camille had no hesitation, first, she would take away his ability to escape, then capture him.

"If you can so shamelessly ask me to betray Zaun, then why don't you betray the Clan Ferros and join us in the glorious evolution?"

"Or are you afraid?"

Cipher leapt to the right just in time, narrowly dodging the scissor leg.

The angle of his jump was so close that the blades nearly performed an unintended "physical separation" procedure on a particularly sensitive area.

Somewhere, a certain part of him shuddered in terror. That was too close. Any closer and I'd be singing soprano for life.

Mid-air, he pressed the detonator with his left hand while his right hand squeezed the trigger, unloading every round of his weakened explosive ammunition.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! 

Muzzle flashes lit up the room as six bullets, wreathed in flame and smoke, shot toward Camille's eyes, forehead, and heart, all lethal targets.

He had no idea if she had any weak points. He was simply gambling.

But the bullets never reached her. A blue energy shield flared to life around her body, stopping every single shot.

Still, the weakened explosive rounds ignited on impact, erupting into raging flames. Even in their diluted form, six rounds set Camille's entire body ablaze.

"Warning! Warning!"

A swarm of modified TICK-MK3 Hunters surged forward from beneath the bed. Their metallic legs clicking against the floor as they moved in perfect synchronization.

The moment Cipher landed, he rolled to absorb the impact, wasting not a second. He sprang up, rushed to the window, and jumped.

Exactly as planned. Three seconds, right on schedule.

BOOM!

Explosions ripped through the room behind him.

Flames roared, shockwaves blasted outward, and the deafening sounds of detonation filled the street.

Clink.

Two grappling hooks shot out, latching onto the window frame.

Camille emerged from the inferno, still burning, her body wreathed in flames as she soared through the air. The fire seemed to have no effect on her, as if she were made of something beyond mere flesh and metal.

Her gaze locked onto Cipher, who was sprinting at full speed below. Energy surged around her, forming a cage-like barrier, as she raised her scissor leg and dove toward him.

This was her final ultimatum.