6

Chapter Sixteen

I wasn't sure exactly how that bitch of a banshee had managed to freeze my flesh through my fucking Defenses, but I could feel Body Defense ready to kick in and undo it the second it happened. However, as weird as it was, it technically would do exactly what I needed, holding everything in place as my frozen, yet still somehow alive, body repaired itself. The medical specifics of things got... weird, when conceptual abilities got involved, but the short version was that, with our Defenses, we Agents could find ourselves in positions that would kill normal people, and thus had dangers and opportunities that were both unique and counter-intuitive.

For instance if one was immune to poisons through Body Defense, one could breath poisoned air, however if the poison gas was so thick that it displaced the oxygen completely, then you could still be rendered unconscious by being unable to get what you needed from the 'air' you breathed, kind of like a normal person could breath helium, turning their voices high-pitched, but doing it too much could cause them to pass out just like not breathing at all would.

And thus we were encouraged to also purchase Wild Defense, so we didn't need to breath at all!

So much time was wasted on those stupid, timeshare-esque 'required seminars', though, to be fair, there was some interesting stuff in them. Like how being immune to cold meant that we could make 'internal casts' by freezing, and thus immobilizing, our injured body parts. I'd need to make sure not to take a hot shower until tomorrow, but her having reset everything had let the magical healing be more effective, and leaving it as it was now would speed it a bit more on top of what had already been done.

I was still absolutely making a formal complaint though.

Not to Class E, over her breaching of Hospitality rights, but to my boss, for breach of contract, but because she hadn't fucking repaired my ribs. I'm sure she'd argue that she 'healed' me, as, if she was working with a Pathfinder Template like I thought she was, she'd used the 'Heal' skill one could acquire through it, a sort of multidisciplinary medical knowledge that let the user treat any humanoid with ease.

But the contract hadn't been to be 'healed', it'd been to be repaired.

And I hadn't been.

And thus, didn't owe my boss anything.

However, him I was trying to work with, and, to be fair, he hadn't needed to offer me this deal in the first place, so it would be an official intra-Class complaint, instead of something more serious, the kind that could be handled and closed easily if it was addressed. So, one complaint, written in Necril, stating that the contract was still technically open, as my ribs had not been repaired, and were still damaged, was sent off, typed up on my Company phone, as I came back downstairs wearing a clean outfit.

Both girls were in the kitchen, where I'd left them, Powder smiling and waving, while Violet looked guardedly confused which... was better than she'd been before. I'd not expected her to attack me, or at least not that fast, and now I was paying for it. Getting the healing potion for her had been an unexpected boon, and would hopefully keep any of the compounding issues that could result from her attack from manifesting, but that had been entirely incidental. Part of me dissected her reaction, and my actions, standing between her and the unearthly threat, and tried to see all of the knock on effects it would have. While she might intellectually know that I was the one that invited the Banshee over in the first place, emotionally that was far less likely to matter.

It wasn't what I'd planned for, but if Vi was going to be around, and I rather hoped she would, rather than almost certainly getting killed by Silco, or some other threat, then I was going to have to account for her presence, and understand her as she was. An understanding, by the dull throb in my chest, that I was severely lacking in. "Okay, this is better, so, I'm sure you have questions," I told the pink-haired girl, still annoyed at her, but willing to try and move past it.

"Yeah, you could say that," she agreed a little mockingly. "How about we start with the fact that you killed a hundred people?" she demanded, waving an arm to indicate her sister, "And you made Powder help!"

"I very much didn't 'make her help'," I replied, a touch frostily. "She offered and I kept her out of the line of fire. As opposed to, say, starting a mass melee without a thought to defending your noncombatant?" At the teen's confused look, I rolled my eyes, "one that led you to loosing everything you stole from me."

Then she understood what I meant, and flinched, like I'd hit her. Actually, from what little I knew of her, she would've preferred that.

"I, you, how do you know about that?" she demanded, scowling.

With a vague wave to the room we were in, I drawled out a single word.

"Magic."

"That's not an answer!" Vi argued, ignoring the fact that we were in pocket dimension, and she'd just drank three potions.

I just moved to the espresso machine, getting it started, informing her over my shoulder, "Well, it's the one you're getting."

"I, fine, but, whatever. You killed a hundred people!" she accused.

"At least," I shrugged, "Though you're being generous, calling them people." I turned and met her angry look with a flat one of my own. "Given what they did to you, I'm surprised you would."

That shut her up, though, only after I said it, did I realize that I'd essentially thrown what had happened to her back in her face, which was... not nice, and her being antagonistic wasn't an excuse for me to hide behind. She was staring at me, but her expression was trembling a little, and her eyes started to unfocus, prompting me to call upon my talents.

"Violet, I'm sorry. That was..." I dropped the Song, the burning in my throat reminding me of how much I'd overused it earlier, not even meaning to activate it, but when I'd seen that Powder was being hurt, I'd gotten... angry. The potion had helped a little, but, oddly, not that much. "That was not right of me. But yes. A hundred humans. Easily. I'm not a fighter like you, and that means I need to cheat. And I'm very good at cheating."

My use of the Song had helped focus her on me, and she frowned, echoing my, "Cheat?"

"Explosives. Guns. Dimensional portal shenanigans. Hidden armor that shouldn't exist. And more. When I toss a bomb into a room full of corrupt enforcers, it becomes much easier to kill a lot of people very quickly, without ever giving them anything close to a fair fight," I remarked. "My original plan was to quietly transfer you out with fake documents, but once I started killing them, I needed to make a clean sweep of it until I got you out, not wasting any time trying to negotiate with those who could not honestly be called people. And after I got you out..." I trailed off, only now realizing I very easily could've waited another hour or three and quietly left, with no record of my presence left behind, not having thought about any possible plan that meant leaving the rest alive in the slightest.

"After?" she repeated, staring at me, obviously looking for something, though I didn't know what.

Sighing, I waved a negating hand, as it didn't really matter. "After, I would not permit that evil to live. It also had the benefit of making sure that no guard knew you were the reason I was there, but... if I really wanted to do that, I should've flooded the prison, and killed everyone, but... if you were in there, there might've been others. So, instead, I found a few more that shouldn't've been there, freed them, and gave them the opportunity to escape. There was a single small ship, not enough for all of them to leave at once, but if they were the type I assumed, they would've come back for the others."

"You led a prison break?" Vi asked incredulously. "From Stillwater? No one's ever escaped from there!"

"No one you know of," I corrected. "The Council probably wouldn't want to advertise how escapable their prison is, other than 'not'. Also, that's what surprises you?" I gave an exaggerated look around the kitchen, mixing up my latte. Powder, adorably, gave me a 'what can you do' look, smirking at me, though there was still an edge of tension to it.

Toggling Faerie Feast, I queried it on what to make for the girls, and found myself creating an odd beer-based cocktail for Vi, with ingredients that cut the alcohol content pretty heavily, and mixing up a combination juice drink for Powder, while I gave the older sister time to process. That said, I did add, "And, with a mass prison break, the fact that you went missing wouldn't've been seen as odd by anyone that spotted you in there."

That hadn't been my intention in the slightest, but I was going to pretend it was unless someone asked me directly. Well, someone I was trying to be honest with, like Powder. I'd lie like a rug to most others.

My phone pinged, and I checked it, seeing I received a response from my boss. Reading it, I found myself growling a little in annoyance, prompting a, "What's wrong?" from Powder, Violet suddenly looking skittish.

"Office politics," I replied, expecting such, which, I realized, meant absolutely nothing to these two. "My superior is claiming the contract has been fulfilled, as the resources I received would be enough to fully repair the damage done to my ribs, had I consumed them. Which is... technically correct." And, by a strict reading of the contract, he wasn't wrong.

He had sent someone who had given me sufficient help to fulfill the contract. The fact that I had then chosen to give that help to another was on me. The fact that I had to effectively extort said help was, ultimately, irrelevant, and had I instead only received items that could not have repaired my ribs, I would then be correct in my statement that the contract was unfulfilled.

Just as technically, I could argue that, by not staying to make sure they were used 'correctly', the Banshee had fucked up and violated the contract, as there was a provision in the Compact about giving someone tools with no explanation of how to use them and calling the assistance 'provided'. Too many people had given password-locked bullshit to maliciously comply with requests that it needed to be formally codified, and too many Lovecraftian beings would just shove bullshit into a person, and take no responsibility when that person, lacking the skills to use said bullshit, would then promptly explode.

The Compact had, after all, been a way for The Company to get the various Multidimensional Hero Organizations to get off their collective back, and the veteran evil-killers overseeing it knew just what kind of chicanery Devils, Fae, and Eldritch beings could get up to if allowed loopholes.

But two things made me accept this particular flavor of bullshit without complaint.

The first was a 600-hour credit for solving an 'Inhuman Resources' issue before it became a real problem and cost the Company significant assets, as the Banshee had been slacking, badly, to the point that my contract was not the first one she'd half-assed, though she'd been better about 'technically' doing what was requested, and I was used as the bait for an ad-hoc sting operation by my boss, my personality assessment indicating I'd react, well, exactly how I'd reacted.

The second was an attached R&D document on the effects that Pathfinder-style healing and restoration potions could have on various non-combat related injuries. Specifically those of severe sexual assault, though how they'd gotten this data was something I didn't want to look into. It'd do nothing for the psychological damage, and Stamping, when applicable, was still suggested as a primary means of treatment if Mind Defense was available, but the two potions, taken together, would help with any biochemical imbalances and trauma-induced reactions on a physical level the drinker had suffered, ones that a healing potion alone would not as they did not constitute 'injuries', provided it had happened within the last few weeks.

Vi wouldn't get uncontrollable 'My brain hates me and wants me to die.' depression, as survivors could get, along with the host of seemingly unrelated health problems that could be caused by such an event, like cardiovascular issues for some reason, but 'Holy shit what happened to me was horrible!' depression was still a definite possibility, even a probability, but one that could be handled via lifestyle instead of requiring medical intervention.

Which meant that DEATH had known what the Banshee would do to them, and what I would do to her, and used that to give me, his Agent, the 'assistance' I required to heal Violet, when helping out unaffiliated entities that were neither staff nor product was highly discouraged if they weren't paying for it.

And the Company made them pay for it.

"That's not fair!" Powder pouted, and Vi, after a moment of thought, slowly nodded in agreement.

"No, there's more going on here," I disagreed, opening up the formal complaint and marking it as resolved by renegotiation of cost to match delivered services compounded with a secondary agreement. This kind of thing happened a good deal, at least according to the Devil that taught the Seminar, and should be held against neither I nor my boss.

Should being the keyword, but, as far as I could tell, there was no bad blood here. Metaphorically speaking, of course, as I was pretty sure DEATH didn't have blood, and neither did half my co-workers. I just hoped most of them weren't like the Banshee, though, as an Agent on a 'resource gathering' assignment, there thankfully wasn't much reason to interact with them.

Closing the ticket, I tossed my phone into the air, 'dismissing' it, as the device dissipated into nothing, and Violet tracked it as it discorporated, asking, "What was that?"

"My..." I paused, realizing they didn't have computers. Or phones. Or any magical analogues, as far as I was aware.

"Your what?" she pressed, tone unexpectedly harsh.

"Vi!" Powder chided. "Don't be mean."

"I'm not mean, he's the one doing magic!" the pink-haired girl argued.

Interjecting before this could continue, or devolve, I clarified, "I'm not doing magic, I'm using magic items. Completely different." Resummoning my phone, I continued, "It's bound to me, but I'm not going to be throwing fireballs anytime soon. Unless you count bombs. In which case I'd rather not be throwing fireballs anytime soon. I was trying to figure out how to explain what it does, it's just your frame of reference is... limited."

Which was the wrong thing to say as that got me a full scowl, "Because I'm from the Lanes?"

"Because you're from Runeterra," I corrected.

"And you're not?" she demanded.

Right, I thought, not quite used to talking with someone this... hostile, at least not someone I couldn't return fire upon. I had to remind myself It's not her fault, don't hold it against her, before smiling, sliding the finished drinks in front of both girls, telling them, "In some way, yes, in some ways, no. Consider me... well-traveled. Okay, you know how message tubes work, right?" I questioned, waiting for both girls to nod, Vi skeptical, Powder, meanwhile, just looked interested.

"Now make the tubes magic, and invisible, and made of magic, but they can't carry physical things," I explained. "They can, however, carry things like light, and sound, really information of all sorts and types, so I can't send a letter, but I can send the image of a letter, that I can modify to write a response on and send back. And because they send information, I can use them to send instructions, like for my gate room to open a portal where I tell it to, or to a music-box," I hit a few buttons, adding ambiance.

"And when you can start sending messages like that, a lot of things become possible," I said, enjoying the look of wonder on Powder's face, Vi's... not so much, but she was at least listening. "Then add in more functions. Like storing images, so it can hold thousands of books. Storing sound, to hold tens of thousands of songs. Adding in mechanisms, not clockwork," I nodded to the tiny tinker, who sipped her juice, "but mechanisms made of information, and things start getting really complicated. The original one of these would take up this room, but, a lot of smart people, working a lot on them have shrunk these things down to this size," I flipped the smartphone into the air, easily catching it, "And then got to work making it more powerful, and then they started adding in magic and, well, you get one that works between worlds."

"Can I have one?" Powder asked, with pleading eyes.

I smiled, patting her on the head, something that got me a cross look from her sister, but... while I was willing to try and be nice, I wasn't going to walk on eggshells and let her dictate my behavior. There was a difference between being considerate, and giving victimhood power, and I'd had it weaponized too many times against me by family and 'friends' to be willing to go down that path.

"I'll see if we have any, and if so, yes," I told her. "But it won't be bound like mine was. Doing that takes someone who can actually 'do magic', I remarked, glancing at the older sister. "Which is beyond my capabilities." For now. Looking at the pink-haired girl's untouched drink, I noted, "I didn't go through all of that to poison you, Violet."

She gave the glass beer stein in front of her a skeptical look, taking it, and, with a bracing breath, took a swig, and froze, staring at it, shocked. "It's... it's just like Vander..." Looking back up, she questioned, "How? Magic?"

"In a sense," I agreed. "I picked up a talent for cooking. It works for drinks as well. Lets me tailor things to people's tastes."

She nodded, not responding, took another sip, and sniffled, angrily wiping away a tear that started to form. Violet was obviously trying to control her reactions, and her emotions, and was just as obviously starting to fail. Part of me wanted to be there, to help, but... it was clear that the girl neither liked, nor trusted me.

Despite what I'd done for her.

Because of what I hadn't been able to stop happening to her.

I had to fight my instincts to do something, as, modeling what I could of the girl's mental state, every plan of action I came up with to actively help her failed. I could be wrong, but I usually wasn't, and counting on my own incorrectness in order to succeed was... foolish, to say the least.

So I did the only thing I could.

I walked away.

"I'll make lunch in three hours, so you two will be on your own until then," I told the girls. "If the door is locked, don't force it, but otherwise you've got the run of the place. Until then, I've got paperwork I need to do," I stated, before Powder could ask to help, and while it did make Violet look pained, the girl had broken my ribs, so that was just karmic.

Meeting the younger girl's gaze, I glanced significantly towards her older sister, who was putting on an uncaring, brave face, but one with ever-widening cracks. Powder's answering look was one of hesitant reluctance, the damage the brawler had done to her relationship with her sister still very much there, but Violet needed someone, and that someone couldn't be me. Mouthing, 'Please', to Powder, she nodded back to me, her older sister not noticing, which was pretty telling in of itself.

The open floor plan of the lower level didn't lend itself to hanging around doorways, but I was able to be out of sight, up the stairs, and still able to hear past the music, holding myself still to hyper-focus on one sense above all others.

Powder's quiet "Vi?" was audible, though her sister's response wasn't. A moment later, however, the distinctive sounds of crying were, crying that was not Powder's, and I nodded to myself, keeping my footsteps quiet as I slipped off to my office. Part of me wanted to queue up the cameras that covered the common areas and listen in, placed there to assist with the Home's Virtual Intelligence functionality, allowing for gesture and voice commands, but even though it would help me build a better idea of Violet's current state of mind... I didn't.

I could excuse it, it would be to help her, but it felt like... too much.

That said, I did still wish I had a better handle on her, for a number of reasons, as her experiences had moved from the relatable to the theoretical for me. While I'd been through some shit, I hadn't had anything like that happen, which made it harder to be understanding, at least instinctually.

You knew she was going to be messed up, I reminded myself. Why are you surprised that she's messed up?

Because, now that I was actively thinking about it, trying to examine my own reactions, I realized I expected her to be depressed, to be quiet, and to be hesitant. Because that's how I might've been. Because that's how Powder was. But that wasn't who Violet the Violent was, and I had to approach her as she was, not how I wanted her to be.

I mean, it'd be easier if she was the way I wanted her to be, but that's not how people worked, for better or worse, which meant I needed a new set of plans, ones to deal with- no, ones to work around? ...No, ones to work with her.

What had happened was a loss of control to an extreme degree, the likes of which you only got at upper-level mind control, and, having run through a Seminar on how to deal with that, I knew what it was like to be a prisoner in your own body, and then to know something was wrong with you, but unable to even think about it directly, which was, in many ways, worse.

It'd sold me on Mind Defense, and I'd known what I'd experienced was both temporary, and restricted, but even then I'd hated it, and to experience something like that, but likely worse, for real? Just like Powder, I was going to need to figure out something for her to do, but while for Powder it was proving to the young girl that she had value and to channel both her destructive urges and her guilt at messing up with the Hexite bombs, for Violet it would likely be about asserting control over her fate, actions, and body.

The last of which was going to be a little more difficult, as the girl needed a hair cut and some dye, her look far too distinctive for her to disappear into Piltover, while Powder could just grow up a bit, and get enough food, to seem like a different person to most who didn't know her well in only a few months.

Then don't have the suggestion come from me, I thought, the Stamp summoning itself to my hand, but that was a different part of the plan, for a different day.

Until then, time for three hours of complex legal paperwork, which I'll need to do another hundred and thirty-ish times.

Yay.

Though, if I was being honest with myself, it was worth it, to help Violet, and to make sure that Powder was able to keep her sister.

Chapter Seventeen

"Well... it looks magical, I guess."

I rolled my eyes at Violet's ringing endorsement, activating the portal back to Runeterra. "Let me put it this way, if those potions were worth three gold, this would be worth the gross domestic product of the entirety of Piltover, and Zaun, combined, for a year. Or twenty-seven. Prices get kind of weird when you're dealing with paradigm-breaking technologies."

"Technology?" the brawler asked, frowning. "I thought you said it was magic."

"It's both, Vi!" Powder informed her with a smile. "Just like Hextech!"

Her older sister nodded, the topic being covered the previous day. Violet very clearly wasn't comfortable with being around me, but, at the same time, just as clearly didn't want to leave her sister alone with me. Powder, meanwhile, was trying to be nice, but was still hurt by what the pink-haired girl had done, and also wanted to spend the day with me, as was the plan before we'd woken Violet up. Powder was naïve, not blind, so she had eventually noticed her sister's unease when it came to me, but, well, the younger girl just didn't care.

It was kind of an awkward push/pull scenario.

Regardless, I'd gone over some of the features of the Home that were available to them, the two given reduced access because Powder was young, and made mistakes, and Violet because, to put it simply, I didn't trust her.

Snapping my ribs because she was having a temper tantrum would do that.

No, be fair, I had to remind myself for the... I'd lost count, actually. The girl was just antagonistic about everything, but it came in odd waves, so it wasn't even consistent. More than once I'd taken one of her back-handed comments to be something worse than she meant it to be on the surface, and when I didn't exactly strike back, but merely parried the verbal barb, she acted like I was the one being an ass. Then things would be okay for a bit, and she'd throw another one at me, I'd try and interpret it kindly, only that one was actually meant to upset me, and when I wasn't then she was upset, and she would get worse as she tried harder to get a reaction, and...

Part of me really didn't want to deal with shit, but... but it would be worth it.

Eventually.

Probably.

Hopefully.

It was almost a relief to go back to Piltover, which I really didn't like. The relief, I mean, the city was okay, as far as corrupt oligarchies went, though that might be because I was a lower-level oligarch myself, and would quickly rise the ranks in their semi-meritocratic society.

The portal was stable, and I took a deep breath, glad my ribs had continued to heal, putting me ahead of things, healing wise, and in a state that could be more easily hidden from any inquisitive eyes, and I was going to be under a set of them in a few hours.

"Well, I'm off. I'll be back this evening, after work," I told them, starting to walk for the glowing gateway.

"Then, it's, uh, ready?" Violet asked, suddenly nervous, and I slowed to a stop, noting how she edged a bit closer to her sister, who, in turn, also tensed, and edged away from the other girl.

... Were you just biding your time? I wondered, phone still in hand, finger moving so that I was ready to de-activate it at a moment's notice. "It is, but, like I said yesterday, I haven't managed to whitelist you yet." Doing so would require contacting Company IT, and, if you didn't speak Binary, it was apparently a stone-cold bitch to get them to do anything without the proper bribes/offerings, which I hadn't put in the time to create. "If you go through, you aren't getting back without my help."

The brawler was struggling with herself, asking, "Where does it go?"

"An alley in Piltover, close to my parent's house," I informed her, only now realizing that I probably should've showed up yesterday, as Jayce's mother was the type to worry. A few excuses offered themselves up in my mind, none of them great, but if I showed up today I should be able to make them work. Again, Violet was fighting with herself, so I decided to give her a little push, in a controlled manner. "Give me a moment to check to make sure it's clear, and you can take a look outside yourself. I'll help you back in when you're done."

That shocked her out of whatever spiral she was in, the pink-haired girl giving me a shaky nod, and I took my finger off the 'close' prompt, striding up to the swirling blue energy, passing through it and into the slanting sunlight of the Runeterran morning. Looking around, no one was present, so I turned back to the floating circle of radiance and stepped through it once more, waving the girl over.

From her look back towards Powder, her desire to just try and run was obvious, but the younger sister took a few very deliberate steps back. A pained look flashed across Violet's features, but she turned away, trying to hide them as she walked over to me, and then stopped in front of the gate.

I offered a hand, "If you need it. The transition is seamless," I reassured her, and her arm twitched, though whether she was going to take it, slap it away, or hit me again I couldn't be sure, as she aborted it before it was more than a twitch.

Not quite pushing past me, she moved to step through the portal, but still came up short, hesitantly putting a hand through it instead, and pulling it back, as if to check she still had it attached. The blue energy rippled slightly, but that was all, and, seeing she hadn't, I don't know, lost a hand in the process, the girl took a deep breath and jumped into it.

Waiting a moment, I followed, and almost bumped into her as Violet hadn't moved after coming through the gate, the girl looking around in confusion, and maybe a little bit of wonder. "I, I'm back," she said to herself, turning to look, then freezing as she likely saw nothing but bare wall. "I, but... where?"

"Like I said, you're not getting back without me," I reminded the brawler, and her head snapped over, a flash of fear quickly suppressed. "You want to look around some more, or head back now. I've got five minutes of wiggle room, but then I need to head to work."

"Just, just give me a moment," she commanded, and I leaned against a wall, gesturing for her to continue. With her on this side of the gate, and Powder on the others, I had a lot less to lose if she bolted.

Violet stared at me, looking for something, but I just stared back, impassively, waiting. Haltingly, she took a few steps away from me, before breaking into a run, skidding to a stop at the mouth of the alley, and staring out into the city proper.

I gave her a minute, but I wasn't lying about having to go, even if I'd low-balled the amount of time I could waste, and slowly strode up to her, coming to a stop beside the girl. "So, believe me about the pocket dimension now?" I verbally prodded her, though I tried to do so kindly.

"I... I don't even know what those words even mean," she admitted, looking lost. "I know, you explained," Violet said with annoyance, cutting me off before I could give her the shortened version again, "you and Powder both did. But... what?"

Ah, she's speaking emotionally, I realized, moving to put a comforting hand on her shoulder, but she flinched away from me, and I let it drop. "Well, you'll have a while to get used to it." I repositioned the portal so it was right behind us. "But for now, you need to go back. You don't have anywhere safe to stay right now, and I do need to go to the Academy."

For a moment, I wondered if she hadn't heard me, but she took another deep breath, nodding. "Okay. How do I go back?" she questioned, then looked at my offered hand. "I, what? Can't you just tell me?"

"It doesn't work that way," I tried to tell her. "It-"

"Try," she ordered, frowning.

"Fine, face that building," I said, willing to waste another minute, pointing across the street, and she did so. "Now take a step backwards." She took a step to the left, then back. "And why did you do that?"

"What?" she questioned. "I just did what you asked? Besides, the way back is over there," she gestured further down the alley.

"Violet, you stood there," I pointed where she just had been, "and faced that way," I pointed at the building, "and I told you to step back so you should've gone there," I pointed at the portal, which she couldn't consciously perceive. "Instead you went there," I pointed to her feet instead. "Want to try again, or will you do it my way?"

She shot me a hostile look, and walked back to the spot, unconsciously leaning around the floating doorway of energy to do so. With a huff, she turned to face the building I'd indicated, and then promptly took a step to the left, then a step back.

"Nope," I sighed.

Violet went through three more iterations, before she finally glared at me, hissing, "What did you do to me!"

"Well, I saved your sister, broke you out of prison, took care of your wounds, and secured magical healing for you, in addition to giving you a safe place to rest, new clothing, and good food," I counted off on my fingers. "Or do you mean the safety features of the gate which I literally warned you about yesterday."

"You said I couldn't get back, you didn't say it would mess with my mind!" she shot my way, incensed.

"It's a perceptional filter, Violet. We've been over this. You just can't go through on your own, or see it. How did you think it did that? Besides, this is kid stuff compared to what my bosses are capable of," I scoffed, able to be a bit more open, now that Powder wasn't here. "If I wanted to, I could easily warp you as I willed, make you not care about what happened to you, make you play nice, and you'd think it was your idea. And do you know why I don't?"

As I'd talked, she'd started to panic, and had shifted to a fighting stance, but my last statement threw her off balance, mentally at least. "I... why?"

I leaned a bit closer to her, not enough to leave myself open, but to get my point across. "Because it would be wrong." She took a step back, but look at me, if anything more confused. "Tell me, Vander, he could've been much harder, right? Could've busted a lot more heads, instead of talking things out, could've taken those gauntlets of his down far sooner than he did, and not only would others have not said anything, I'm sure some would've preferred he do so. Right?"

That got her thinking, and she whispered to herself a word that sounded a lot like "Sevika", the name of Vander's lieutenant, who'd abandoned him for Silco. "So, what, you're like Vander?" the brawler demanded, obviously disagreeing with what she assumed I meant.

"In some ways, yes, in many ways, no," I replied. "I admire the man, and am sad I hadn't met him sooner, but I'm not as pacifistic as he is. I'll kill far easier, you already know that, and my strength isn't in people and respect, it's in magic, technology, and weird bullshit, but we could've worked together, maybe even been friends. I'll admit, I'm... persuasive, probably more than he could be, but I currently lack the ability to make someone do something they truly do not wish to, nor do I want that capability. But trust me, if I had to, if that's what it took to survive, or to keep Powder safe, I'd get that capability, and use it."

"Then how do I know you won't? How do I know you're not using it right now?" she demanded, taking a threatening step forward, the street thankfully fairly clear this early, and the few people out and about weren't paying us any attention.

I smiled sadly, "You don't, not really. You don't know enough to know the signs, and anything I told you, let's be honest, you probably wouldn't believe. But look at it this way, do you really think we'd be having this conversation if you were being controlled? Because, and I apparently need to keep saying this, I've got shit I need to do. I'm meeting the fucking Council of Piltover in a few hours, but instead of getting ready, I'm here, arguing with you, because I'm trying to do this the easy way instead of the hard way, which would be to literally push you through the damn thing."

Taking a deep breath, I tried to force my annoyance at her to leave me as I exhaled. "So," I said, leaning back and extending an arm, "are you going to take my hand, or are you going to keep accusing me of shit that I'm not doing, and that, if I was being honest, would make my life way easier if I actually did."

I waited, and could practically see the other girl working her way through what I'd said, before she took a step forward and harshly grabbed my hand, gripping it tight in... I don't know, some machismo bullshit? Either way, I stepped through the portal and dragged her through with me, the girl stumbling a little as she did so, letting go as soon as she could and taking a few steps back, putting distance between us.

"Powder, I'll be back tonight, and maybe talk to your sister about not accusing me of messing with her mind just because she doesn't believe me?" I requested, knowing I was throwing a conversational hand grenade into the room, but maybe I was still a little annoyed.

The little girl turned to give her sister a scandalized glare. "Vi! What'd you do?"

"I, you, he, he's the one that can mess with people's minds!" the brawler defended, clearly not having expected Powder to instantly take my side.

"Vi, that's the gateway! That's not Jayce!" the tiny tinkerer sighed exasperatedly. "He told us this yesterday!"

Leaving the two to bicker, I grabbed the box lunch I'd made and left sitting next to the Gate, then stepped back to Piltover, finally heading to work.

​

"Are you sure this will work?" Viktor asked, for the seventh time.

"Well, considering that the Council will be here in ten minutes, I certainly hope it does," I replied, giving our lab one more once-over. It was clean, without looking too clean. The blackboards were full of glyphs, and explanations, but I'd gone over them and changed them after we were done on Friday, slightly, but enough that anyone trying to use the new runes would have... a bad time, to say the very least.

My partner had asked if that was necessary, but I'd just smiled, and told him that if there was no need, then it was just a slight change, and if there was a need, it was better to keep exactly what we could do under wraps. Considering that we were both going to look over anything we made before we turned it on, there was no risk of accidentally using the incorrect runes, this was just a security precaution, and keeping them up for the Council's visit simultaneously made us look 'science-y' and, if any of them decided they didn't need us, their own efforts would be stymied.

Viktor had shaken his head, but gone along with it, and, looking around the rest of the lab, everything that might be free-floating had been secured, the two of us having run another 'Zero-Gate' test that morning, checking to make sure other factors like different times of day, or different days themselves, had no effect on what we were doing. It seemed silly, on the surface, but we were completely in the dark here, and while I had my own basic grounding in the fundamentals of Magic, my partner wasn't stupid, and I could only pull so much out of my 'previous research' before he'd start getting suspicious.

That meant I had to do experiments that would confirm what I already knew, a bit like the ones someone might do in a science class in high school, only if we got results every time that would be equally suspicious, so the factors that mattered needed to be part of a large sea of checking ones that didn't. If we were doing ritual casting, the days would matter, along with season, whether convergence of magical currents were occurring (which were usually holidays, though if they created the holiday or vice versa due to the power of collectivized belief was a bit of a chicken and egg situation), and so on. For this the differences were minor enough to not matter, like worrying about how windy it was when building a shack. Unless something was truly strange, it wouldn't matter.

But I couldn't just tell Viktor that.

So, in a sense, I played the game, spinning deceptions, but that didn't mean my experiments and noting of factors were meaningless, as one of the things the Company Seminars had repeatedly stressed was that they were covering the underlying rules that were the foundation of most magic systems, and that, wherever we went to, there might be exceptions. Or there might be larger structures in place that modified the basic rules in such a way that they were technically present, but obscured, like the 'Weave' of most worlds that ran on a D&D framework, shunting empowered individuals to a dozen or so archetypes instead of allowing truly free growth.

To put it simply, this shit was complicated.

So we had a new hexite crystal slotted, which we'd done a power-up test on without issue, the proto-matrix mark 2 positioned so the null-gravity field it created would only extend two-thirds of the way across the lab, and we were now waiting for the council to show up. Everything looked perfect in a way that looked prepared, but not too prepared, playing to the 'we're scientists, and trying, but we don't have the skill to try to the same level you're used to' assumptions the Councilors surely had.

Because, in many ways, appearing too competent could be just as bad as appearing incompetent.

"You know, I have been watching you move about for almost an hour," Viktor commented, "But I have to say, I do not quite understand the point."

"Managing expectations," I shrugged. "Just as I'm doing with Heimerdinger. But with seven people, instead of one." Shooting him a smile, I informed the man, "After this, I should be getting actual lessons in this, and should be able to pass on the important bits, but for now, this should suffice."

The scientist shrugged, "If you say so. I'm more concerned about if this will be enough to impress them." It was my turn to look confused, and he explained, "With what else you could do. With what you did..." he trailed off, looking towards the scrap bin, now cleaned, where I'd dropped the remains of the Mana Cannon.

"Viktor," I replied, once more with a smile, "You're getting ahead of yourself. Which I believe is my job today. It's not your turn until tomorrow. Don't think of what you've learned, of the possibilities we brainstormed Friday. No, think of how you understood the world to work last week, and, compared to that, what activating the Zero-Gate is like." I took a few steps over to the other man, addressing him directly. "We've got this. Just follow my lead."

"Well, it's gotten me this far," he quipped with a smirk, both of us turning as we heard the muted sounds of fancy shoes on the stone tiled floors of the hallway outside. "Let's see how far it takes us."

"Indeed," I replied, quickly moving to crack open the door enough to hear our guests better, then quietly striding over to position myself as the center of the lab, picking up a clipboard and a pen with the important notes on what I needed to cover with this demonstration. Viktor would be in the background, to the gaze of the others, but was by the actively glowing bit of technology, which would draw the eye away from me, the blackboards set so that they'd be spotted as the Council's focus shifted.

Straining my senses, I could hear Mel comment, "I must say, I was rather surprised to hear they were already ready. Mr. Talis seemed talented, but even I didn't think..." she trailed off meaningfully.

"Do not worry, young lady!" Heimerdinger replied with cheery confidence. "They have conducted proper testing! My assistant has made sure of it! And I've seen their display already, and let me tell you, it was quite the sight!"

"Still, it seems rather fast," the fat one noted disdainfully.

It was Mrs. Kiramman who countered him, noting, "I had Jayce over last week, and he was more than happy to explain some of his work to me. He truly was mere days away from results, were he able to have access to the Academy's resources. At least, that's what he said over dinner."

Trying to run that through my own 'okay, but what does that shit really mean' filter, the two who were backing me, Mel and Mrs. Kiramman, were both positioning themselves so that, if this failed, they wouldn't take a hit professionally, but, if it succeeded, they'd be able to step 'behind' me as supporting me all along, strengthening their positions. The fat man was trying to do the same, possibly misreading Mel's intention, only focusing on her caution to be ready to go 'I told you so' if it didn't work, while Heimerdinger was backing us fully, while also showing off that he had advance knowledge the others did not. A statement that Mrs. Kiramman undercut, strengthening possible ties between me and her by mentioning that I paid her a visit at her manor, which in turn implied a stronger personal connection, possibly to warn Mel off a little, but still leaving the elder stateswoman an out if needed.

Ah, politics, how much I hated it.

But that didn't mean I was bad at it either.

"And here we are!" Heimerdinger announced, and... was he pushing open the doors himself?

Yes, he was, opening them slowly, but with a strength that actually belied his small size. Right, Violet, Powder, and Caitlyn will eventually be Tier 5, but he's already there. His capabilities were mostly due to the inventions he could bring to the table, which put Canon Jayce as an odd middle ground between Heimerdinger and Vi, but the Yordle had survived the Rune Wars, or something similar since the timeline really didn't match up, so he had to be a certain degree of tough.

Shame he wasn't also flexible.

I looked up from my clipboard and smiled, "Hello, it's good to see you all," I greeted them, pushing off from the table I was leaning against. The more I used my Song, the better I was getting at it, but I'd absolutely strained it over the weekend, so I needed to ration it out a little now. "I'm sure you all remember how I mentioned I was close to a proof-of-concept?" I asked, getting nods of various strengths from the others, except from the tall non-human, who just stared at me from behind his mask.

Councilor Bolbok was never going to be my ally, given how much he openly hated anything even slightly magical, and, if I managed to somehow succeed and win his favor, it'd just make others suspicious, his own people likely seeking to replace him shortly thereafter as Viktor had mentioned how anti-magic the entire species he represented were.

"Well, we've got that up and running," I said, waving to the scientist behind me, the others glancing at the man who gave them a nervous half-wave, obviously not prepared for their attention. Something to work on, I resolved, continuing my speech, "As I mentioned before, hexite is a natural storer of mana, but, just like natural gas can be explosive, it's dangerous if mishandled. Enough kinetic energy, like say someone throwing a hexite crystal against a wall while robbing my home, can cause it to release the energy all at once, just like a pocket of natural gas burning, but, just as natural gas can be siphoned, piped, and utilized for a number of different purposes, so can hexite. Viktor, if you would?"

He hit the button, the crystal floating in the air, and the proto-matrix started to spin up, crackles of mana lightning lashing out as the rough gem jittered back and forth, like it was caught in the center of a tiny whirlwind.

Looking to the Councilors, Bolbock had drawn back in fear, the dandy and the fat man obviously nervous, while the three women were just as much watching me as they were the display. Mel was obviously taken aback at the proto-matrix activating, likely not having expected it to seem as violent as it was, while checking my reaction, and the fact that I wasn't worried at all, to calm herself. Mrs. Kiramman was doing much the same, but controlled her reactions far better, also keeping an eye on Heimerdinger, who just smiled, pleased with himself. The Yordle had the air of someone watching a show they enjoyed, but one they'd seen before, which clearly told the older woman there was nothing to fear here. Finally Shoola, the one with the idiotic neck piece, was watching me watching them, obviously keeping track of the Proto-Matrix, but was the inverse of Mel, most of her attention on what I was doing.

In moments, the crystal stabilized itself, floating in the air and gradually rotating, the resonance effect having settled it, and the outside of the proto-matrix slowly spinning to keep the gem in its higher-energy state.

"Now that it's been activated, the hexite is ready to be used. You may have noticed the runes inscribed around the device," I articulated. "This is where things get a little complicated, in that, as you can see on the board, there are dozens of runes, and it is when they are put together that the mana creates various effects. A Mage would do so instinctually, channeling the mana themselves, and many accounts detail how the runes that appear when they do so are not created by the Mages themselves, but in harmonization with the way they twist the mana. Think of runes like ripples in a pond, or like how the dunes of a desert are shaped by the wind."

I smiled, "However, just as the wind shapes the dunes, the dunes, in turn, can shape the wind, and by running mana through the runes, we can create similar effects without ever having to touch the raw mana ourselves. In a way, it's a process we're already using for other things here in Piltover."

"Like using a mold to create a tool," Mel remarked, picking up the trail I was leaving her, "Instead of forging one by hand."

"Exactly," I grinned. "As I'm sure you're aware, my family, the Talis', are tool-makers, and while hand-crafting tools works for specialty jobs, the bulk of our profit comes from the mass-production of various devices."

"And you're, trying to, mass-produce, the Arcane?" Bolbock accused.

I shook my head, expecting this, the distinction I needed to make here an important one. "No. The Arcane is an art personal to each user. It is inscrutable, because the user is just as much part of the equation as the effects they create, who they are just as important as what they do with it. The Arcane is a Mage's shaping of mana, and the magic they create with it, each expression different, and from that difference comes dangerous unpredictability."

Waving towards the Proto-Matrix, I nodded to my partner, who started the activation sequence.

He deftly started twisting the dial, as I'd had him do a dozen times, going over the movements precisely. Each minor click was timed correctly, shifting the alignment of the runes in the pattern required, the magical discharges extending, shaping, forming unstable runes, that danced into tighter and more complex patterns, until, with a bell like ringing sound, it activated, the full circle forming, before it collapsed into itself, the Zero-Gate opening with a bright flash of light.

Having positioned myself carefully, I took a single step back and entered the null-gravity zone, slowly floating up as I declared, "This is magic, but it is set, replicable, scientific, a kind of technology, not an art. Whether I am the one at the controls, or Viktor, or even you, Council Bolbock, if we all perform the same actions, on the same tools, we will all get the same results. You will not be changed, twisted, or warped by it any more than you would be by swinging a hammer, drawing a sword, or wielding a pen. So are we trying to mass-produce the Arcane? No, such a thing is not possible, by definition. But are we trying to mass-produce magic?"

I smiled at them, and saw that I had them, the display something most had never seen the like of in their entire lives, and while the Piltoverians had a societal aversion to Mages, they'd never seen hostile magic, and thus had nothing to mitigate the sheer feelings of awe they were clearly experiencing at the sight of the working in front of them.

A slight twist let me spin around completely, free of the bounds of the earth, catching my harness line with my foot to bring me to a stop facing them, my arms outstretched in an all-encompassing gesture.

"We already are."

Chapter Eighteen

Needless to say, the Councilors were interested in what Viktor and I were doing.

The presentation after that was a bit less over the top, explaining what the Zero-Gate was, and what it represented, while also allowing the Councilors who wanted to the option of, with careful use of a harness, experience zero-gravity.

Heimerdinger went three times.

The Dean was also appreciative of the fact that we'd fashioned safety gear, including a Yordle sized harness, congratulating Viktor for it, who then tried to defer the praise. He did so mostly because it hadn't been his idea, but mine, though he did a good job of just seeming bashful, which the old academic ate up without a second thought.

The only one who ended up refusing was Bolbock, who hadn't changed his anti-magic stance in the last ten minutes, not moving from the doorway, while the others enjoyed the practical demonstration, Mrs. Kiramman somehow managing to float in a dignified way, after having watched how I moved, and Hoskel, the fat one, had a blast but moved with all the grace of a drunk, retarded hog.

"This could be used for construction," Shoola noted, her neckpiece rigid, so it stayed still even without gravity, "Especially in more vertical spaces."

I remembered my Patron's warning that the woman was an outspoken supporter of Zaunites, or as much as she could be on the Council, and nodded. "Yes. It's a negation effect to make sure there aren't problems with the translocation process of the spell I've been trying to deconstruct, but if we can pin it down, there's quite a few uses for the zero-gravity field."

Thankfully, with the preliminary work I'd done, revealing that the Proto-Matrix was meant to replicate a Mage's spell wasn't seen as me 'attempting the Arcane', but as the creation of a mold to match a particularly complex tool's construction, a parallel I was kicking myself for not coming up with myself. Well, Councilor Bolbock might've still seen it that way, but the... man? He sounded male. Either way, the thin nonhuman didn't make a fuss over it, though he was very much giving me the silent treatment.

I wasn't sure if I'd ever recover.

"But, if it's a door, where is it going?" Councilor Salo, the dandy, asked.

"Right now? Right here," I told him, motioning to Viktor, who tossed a rod trailing a bit of string towards the singularity floating high in the air, powering the entire zero-g field. The others all watched with bated breath as it approached, a small arc of mana-lightning licking out from the globe, the test projectile glitching slightly before it was drawn into the miniature star and then ejected out the other end, moving no faster then it had before, the string trailing it in the exact same configuration as when it entered. "Think of it like building a doorway in the middle of a room, not set into any walls. You can go through it, yes, but it doesn't actually go anywhere."

"Then what's the point?" Hoskel questioned. "The flying is fun, though. Maybe seal off the..." he waved towards the singularity.

"What's the point?" Heimerdinger echoed, offended. "Do you have no curiosity? No vision?"

On one hand, I was glad the Dean was trying to stand up for me, on the other, I wish he'd stop helping. "I'm sure it's not that," I interceded, as the fat man scowled at being treated like a child. "As it is now, yes, the gate isn't terribly useful but... think of it like having a ship in port, versus one that's travelling somewhere. Once we get a handle on the positioning mechanism, we could send that bar halfway across Runeterra, though the mana requirements would almost certainly be higher. As it now, it takes over a hundred 'transitions' before the gate will run out of energy and close itself, but we're just getting started on this."

I turned to include the others, "No, with time, the size of what could be sent could be increased. We wouldn't be sending a bit of metal on a string, or a table, but an airship. And we wouldn't be moving it five feet, we'd five thousand miles."

"But, would that be safe?" Heimerdinger asked, suddenly wary.

I nodded, "The use it's based on is meant to transport people, so I wouldn't see why not. Mind you, we're going to test it to heck and back, hence why we're careful to make sure that no-one touches it, but after we can confirm it's safe, like I'm fairly certain it is, that is a possibility. And it would have to be an airship, not a naval vessel, because it would be far better to aim above a port, and possibly miss by a few hundred feet, then to try and put it down on solid ground, or the surface of an ocean, directly."

Mel gave me a measuring look. "You've obviously put a great deal of thought into this," she remarked.

Nope, I'm just cheating, I thought, smiling in a 'I've been found out' way. "I mean, I wouldn't want to waste the Council's time on something that wouldn't be useful. And this will take some time to properly test," I warned, nodding to Heimerdinger, even as I saw the wheels of greed turning in the heads of some of the others. "But that's also why the flight effect is something I'd be wary of using on airships, especially any who use a Hexgate, as I'd worry that the doubling of the zero-gravity effects might interact badly. Eventually we might see that it's safe, possibly, but not any time soon."

"And if you had a larger lab? More materials? Others working under you?" Mel questioned, clearly testing me, though I was sure it would've gone over original-Jayce's head.

"Eventually, sure, but Viktor and I are going to be working on getting the basics down for a bit. At least six months," I smiled, referencing her original suggestion for my time-limit to produce results, and I waved away her offer of more, which would of course come with greater expectations. "I wouldn't be exaggerating to say that Hextech is an entirely new branch of research, and one that we're going to have to find the workings of on our own. Like the first people who discovered how steam could be directed, or electricity channeled." Or how Chemtech could flow, I mentally added, but mentioning the Zaunite invention would do me no favors here.

In truth, I might need a secondary lab to work on that alchemical wonder, but god knows I had no time to get to it, and pushing forward that front in the eternal march of progress could wait. At the very least, I could run experiments at Home with Powder. The main structure of the building was reconfigurable, and even if it wasn't enough, it shouldn't be too hard to set up another lab farther away from my Home, and make sure we weren't sleeping in the blast radius.

Walking the line between possibilities and promises wasn't exactly easy, but I thought I was doing a fairly good job as the presentation continued, though Mel did through me for a bit of a loop when she asked, "Could these be built in other nations? You mentioned that you believe the trip would be one way, so some would say the next obvious step would be to create a second to send ships back."

"Yes, in theory, but in practice. . . it almost certainly won't be that easy," I admitted. "The proto-matrix can create this Zero-Gate, and we could automate the gate-creation process, but to handle things with more mass will near-certainly require a dedicated array. Something larger, possibly building sized if you want to send a ship to Demacia or Targon. A return array would need to be the same size and complexity but, they wouldn't be tunnels, with a set entrance and exit, they'd be. . . honestly catapults would be closer, only not violent. With a single array, it would work almost as a second Sun Gate for us, concentrating trade to come here and shave days or weeks of a journey, maybe more. A second array, however, could send ships anywhere just as easily as the first could."

I laughed, "That's the point of this after all. That none of the creations we seek to make are personal, unique, and that they are reproducible. However, while I trust the Council wouldn't abuse the advantage they represent, well..." I hesitated, wondering if I should go ahead and say it.

"Well?" Mel questioned, taking the choice away.

I looked directly at the daughter of a Noxian Warlord, and said, "Where an airship full of goods could be sent, so could an airship full of soldiers. Or bombs. Piltover is dedicated to progress, and peace. Other nations... are not."

With half of the Councilors, I had them on economic grounds, the other half, moral ones. I wanted to suggest that they lie and claim that the Hexgate could only be built in Piltover, but to suggest that they lie would also, in turn, suggest that I might be lying. It was beyond obvious that of course I could be, but many people just did not think in those directions, and bringing to their attention that I was someone who did would, once again, do me no favors.

"Well, I certainly have some possibilities to consider," Mel noted, looking around at the others, who all nodded, even, to my surprise, Bolbock, though it was only once, and it was a small one at that. "Consider yourself supported, Jayce Talis," she announced with a smirk, like a particularly smug cat. "I'm certain that I speak for the Council when I say we look forward to whatever you come up with next."

The other took their leave, but as they did so, I approached my patron, asking her, "Councilor Kiramman, are we still on for what you suggested?"

Doing so caught the attention of the other Councilors, which was intentional, and, from the older woman's slight smile, she realized exactly what I was doing. "I believe we are. Thursday?"

"Sounds lovely," I replied with a smile of my own.

"I shall see you then," she stated. "I'm sure Caitlyn will be quite pleased."

Going in hard, aren't you? I wondered, nodding at that. "Tell her the feeling is mutual."

The dark-haired woman's smile widened, and she returned my nod, turning her back on me and striding out with a measured, borderline imperious gait, several of the other Councilors pretending they hadn't just been eavesdropping on us as she did so.

Publicly mentioning my connection to the heiress was a bit more than I'd expected her to do, though the fact that Caitlyn and I had spent a good amount of time together hadn't exactly been a secret. Then again, having us two hang out and having her mother openly acknowledge that fact were two completely different things.

Then again, I suppose I had been flirting a bit with Mel.

It was nothing that was beyond the bounds of politeness, but it was in those grey zones that politics thrived. Soon enough, they were gone, and Viktor came to land beside me, at the edge of the null gravity zone. "Your 'arrangement' with the Councilor?" he inquired.

"Those lessons I told you about," I replied easily. "Contingent on us impressing the Council." Turning to face him, I shrugged, "I'm pretty sure we have. What do you think?"

Viktor stared at me, before shaking his head.

"You, are a very dangerous man."

I snorted, shaking my head right back. "Partner, you're going to be right there with me. You aren't used to being in the spotlight, I can tell as much, but it'll be a skill you'll pick up, just like any other."

"I, I don't need to," he tried to defer.

However, I just gave him a flat stare. "If you'd rather not, I'll respect that, but You need to learn how. I don't mind taking the lead, but, if this develops how I think it will, it won't just be the two of us. Preferring not to do something is fine, but being incapable of doing something is a weakness." I smiled. "I'm sorry if this sounds arrogant-"

"You? Arrogant? No," Viktor jibed good-naturedly. "It's not like you just talked to the entire Council as if you were their equal."

Lifting an eyebrow, I replied, "But I am. And so are you, even if we haven't done enough to garner the sorts of attention that we will eventually accrue." Shaking my head one last time, I shrugged, "Like I said, this might sound arrogant, but both of us are the types of people who change the world, Viktor. We are great men, though we aren't there quite yet." I cast a glance towards the door, where the Council had just left.

"And great men can't afford to be weak."

​

With the proof of concept done, we switched gears to trying to do exactly what I'd told the Council we would, and tried isolate the anti-gravity effect which was... well, it wasn't easy that was for certain. The Proto-Matrix let me ape what Ryze had done, but I didn't actually understand any of it. The fact that I created a Zero Distance-Gate was ample proof of that, essentially writing in a command I'd seen before into the DOS-prompt of the universe, and then something had happened, but I was effectively a magical Script Kiddie, and I needed to be a magical engineer.

In a way, each rune was a word, and the completed set made a sentence, but I didn't know what I was saying, which meant we had to break down what each of the four component runes actually meant, and then, from there, try and build new sentences, in a way that, if we said something like 'tear space here', we could make sure we wouldn't be 'here'. I didn't even know if that was possible, but I knew that Mjolnir-esque 'it doesn't weigh anything for me' gloves were on the table, as was Jayce's hammer, so a full null-gravity field probably was possible, but figuring it out was gonna take a while.

We'd worked until sunset, at which point I'd called it quits, even as Viktor very clearly wanted to keep going, but was unable to argue with my statement of, "It'll all be here tomorrow. Go home, have a good meal, relax a little, and we'll be back at it in the morning."

"And if my relaxing is forming new hypotheses?" he'd questioned.

"Then you do you," I'd shrugged, "But it won't be working in the lab, so it should help replenish your stocks of mental energy. See you tomorrow."

From there I'd swung by my parents' minor manor, my mother relieved to see me, and I spun her a yarn about having been at a different location, letting her assume it was another property the Kiramman's owned, like my old apartment was, but also that she was free to come visit me at the Academy if she needed something, mostly so she didn't start looking for my new 'address'.

She made sure I had dinner, and indulged her, eating with the woman and talking about my meeting with the Council, something she was all a twitter about, and I knew she'd disseminate the broad strokes of into the Piltoverian gossip network in days, something that would, in turn, raise her own position in the lower circle of nobility she hung around in.

After that, though, it was time for me to move onto the next step, which was to start my next set of plans. Insertion ended up ending at M, or close enough, which meant it was time for secondary objectives, and that meant it was time to go back to Zaun.

Changing in my childhood room, I dressed down to not be instantly noticed and slipped out, making my way across Piltover easily, now that night had truly fallen. As before, the bridge was deserted, and this time I took the Bathysphere down, in no rush, and future Caitlyn was right, it did have a nice view, slowly shifting from Neo-Victorian to Neon-Victorian aesthetics, harsh Chemtech lights behind dirty windows reminding me of nothing so much as my decent into the depths on my way to Stillwater Prison.

And probably as dangerous, I mused, keeping my eyes peeled as I stepped out of the vehicle, and made my way into the Lanes. I was also glad I'd strapped on a knife before I'd left this morning, hidden inside my vest while I was at the Academy, now up my jacket sleeve. If things went really bad I'd Gate out, but the blade would give me the space, and time, I'd need to do so.

Note to self, armor the rest of my clothing. For the foreseeable future, I was going to be a 'squishy wizard', as the kind of training that, for instance, Demacian elites went through took years, and even then, they were still easily killable with the right tools, it was just harder to do so.

Walking through the stinking subterranean streets, there was an underlying tension that there hadn't been before, but that made sense. Without Vander to make everyone play nice, the true nature of a lot of the movers and shakers of Zaun was coming out to play.

There wasn't anything inherent about the location that made things this way, but the culture here was one of violence, selfishness, and short-sighted excess that Powder and Violet's father had been keeping in check. With time, and a dozen more people like him, it was completely possible that he could've reformed the Lanes, even with the pressures from above to keep them squalid, desperate, and tearing each other down instead of lashing out against their Piltovan masters. But while Benzo might've been the same kind of person Vander was, with them both dead in a single night, and their tenure not enough to shift the cultural paradigms into a new alignment, it was going to snap back to a lower level of civilization in a form of societal entropy.

And that was before Silco started tipping the scales, to rule The Lanes as a crime-boss, instead of the revolutionary paragon that his predecessor was.

But that would take time, and it'd been less than a week since I'd arrived. For now, things were just tense, the foundation gone and the house of cards increasingly unstable, but not yet fallen. And for that, I needed my own finger on the pulse of Zaun, and a way to try and tip the scales in the other direction. But that, just like my Hextech research, this was not something I was going to accomplish in a single night.

But that didn't mean I couldn't get started.

Looking around, there were a lot more openly aggressive people on the prowl than Jayce's memories indicated there should be, hard men and women, many with visible blades, almost like they were on patrol. If I had to guess, they were likely a gang that had already formed, and had taken over the main thoroughfare.

I didn't know how things would develop in the original timeline, only how they'd turn out, with Silco having a stranglehold over Zaun, encouraging his people's worst traits, as long as they obeyed him, and likely so that they obeyed him. Well, I knew how things would turn out if I hadn't changed the timeline, but the main point was Zaun likely underwent a number of transformations in the seven years of the timeskip, and what I was seeing now was merely the first.

Looking at them, trying not to look like I was looking, I tried to pick out gang colors, or a symbol, or anything really, but they didn't have any one thing in common. The closest I got was that a number of them had particularly long knives, while an equally large amount of them wore what looked like a shell-casing as a pendant, but neither identifier was universal enough to be an allegiance-signifier, and the two 'groups' often mixed, moving together, some people wearing both, so it wasn't two different gangs, unless they were far more amicable than most such groups normally were, especially newly emergent ones that were trying to establish their identities.

Regardless, they didn't give me trouble, though several of them did glance in my direction, one almost seeming to double-take, but they didn't say a word to me, and we got out of each other's way while walking.

Soon enough, I was where I needed to be, while also pretending that I wasn't.

"Hey there, handsome," the trashiest looking Yordle I'd ever seen purred, as I stopped, looking at her nervously. "You busy? You want to be?" the woman cooed, which wasn't as attractive as she obviously thought it was, as she smiled coquettishly, and I noted that she at least had all her teeth. The whore was old, skin wrinkled and sagging, in a dress which did her no favors, and with so much makeup it looked painted on.

In short, she was exactly what I was looking for.