Chapter 7: The filth of Zaun

Lukas sighed as he walked through Zaun's maze of filthy streets, hands shoved into his bloodstained pockets, shoulders slumped with exhaustion.

The fight was over. The fear was fading.

And now?

Now he was finally realizing something far worse than murder.

"Jesus fucking Christ, I stink."

His face scrunched up as the realization hit him like a truck.

Blood. Sweat. Piss.

He reeks.

His clothes were a disaster. His shirt had dried bloodstains from the guys he electrocuted, his pants were torn, and he was 90% sure his hoodie smelled like a dead raccoon.

The worst part?

No one even looked twice.

The people of Zaun were too busy minding their own business.

No one cared that he was walking around looking like a crime scene.

Which was great for avoiding attention.

Horrible for his personal hygiene.

"Alright, I need a fucking bath before I start attracting flies."

But where?

---

His brain flipped through his memories, trying to think of something—**anything—**from Arcane that could help.

And then he remembered.

A scene from the show.

A place from Viktor's childhood.

A waterfall.

Some kind of toxic, chemical-infested river where kids would swim and play, while Viktor—ever the shy, sickly little bastard—would just sit on the sidelines and watch like some Victorian orphan.

Lukas smirked at the thought.

"Damn, Viktor. You really were built like an abandoned Dickens character, huh?"

But then his expression shifted.

Wait.

Viktor.

Viktor was the key to Piltover.

If Lukas ever wanted to escape this shithole, he'd have to find him. Somehow.

But how the hell was he supposed to approach him? Just walk up and be like—

"Hey, bro, you wanna change the world together? I got a lightning hand and a dream."

Yeah, no.

Too weird.

But still, something to keep in mind.

For now?

He had bigger problems.

Like not smelling like a decomposing corpse.

---

It took forever to get there.

Lukas had to climb rusty-ass pipes, squeeze through tight alleyways, and almost slip to his death on some random wet metal beams.

"Jesus Christ, Viktor, how the fuck did you get here with your spaghetti legs?"

After what felt like an eternity, he finally arrived.

And, sure enough—there were kids already playing in the water.

Lukas frowned as he stepped forward, peering into the murky, dark green pool.

The water was… thick.

It had oil floating on top.

It reeked of chemicals.

Oh, this shit is definitely radioactive.

Lukas exhaled sharply.

He could walk away. Find a different place to clean up.

But did he really have options?

He took a sniff of his own armpit.

His eyes watered.

FUCK NO.

"Alright, fuck it."

He pulled off his hoodie, stripped down to his underwear, and took a deep breath.

Then—

He jumped.

---

SPLASH.

The moment he hit the water, his entire body regretted it.

The cold wasn't the worst part.

The sting was.

His skin burned like he had just jumped into a pool of diluted bleach.

[HP -1]

"Oh, COME ON."

Lukas groaned, running his hands through his hair as he scrubbed the dirt, grime, and dried blood off his skin.

The chemical-filled water sloshed around him as he worked through his hoodie, rubbing the stains out as best he could.

Meanwhile, the other kids just kept playing, laughing, splashing each other.

How the fuck are these little goblins okay with this shit?

Lukas shook his head.

Whatever.

This was temporary.

When he built his Rapture, Zaun would be different.

Cleaner. Better.

A place where people like him wouldn't have to bathe in fucking carcinogens just to get the stink off.

Speaking of cancer—

Lukas paused, his brows furrowing.

Didn't the Adam plasmids in Bioshock basically give you super cancer?

He glanced down at his hand, watching the faint blue sparks still flickering between his fingers.

…Eh.

"That's a problem for Future Lukas."

Right now?

He was finally clean.

And that was good enough.