9. Steel Beneath The Ashes
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Chapter 9: Steel Beneath the Ashes
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POV: 3rd Person (Unnamed Child in Virelle)
The morning haze rolled through the Ashenheart, carrying with it the scent of steam and rain—something cleaner than smog and grease. No chem-fog in his lungs today, no oil on the ration crates. Instead, the air buzzed with the tang of warm synth-meat and cooling metal.
The kid—no older than nine—stood barefoot on a catwalk, watching the sunlight reflect off the mirrored plates of the new converter tower. He squinted.
"They say she built it in a week," his older sister had whispered. "Just like that. Boom. Became Virelle."
Below, drones zipped between rooftops. Sleek silver wings caught the light. Not the angry, erratic buzzers from Silco's turf—these ones moved in smooth, practiced arcs. Predictable. Safe.
A woman down on the street tipped her cap as one passed overhead.
Nobody feared these machines.
In the center of the district, looming above scaffolded walkways and metal homes, stood the Clocktower. Its soft, silver-blue glow painted light across the ground. Children chased those shapes like fireflies on concrete that had never looked so clean.
He grinned.
Zaun—no, Virelle—felt different now. Not fixed. Not perfect. But awake.
His ma said things were changing. His da said not to trust it. But he couldn't stop staring.
In the distance, a group moved across a higher walkway: a tall man with heavy arms, a scary lady with a pipe, a girl with fists like bricks, a tiny one with wide eyes... and at the center—her.
Ashryn Virelle.
The child watched until they vanished inside the tower. The converter's light flickered, and something inside him sparked.
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POV: Vi (Tour of the Clocktower)
Vi walked with wide eyes as she and the crew—Vander, Sevika, Powder, Claggor, Mylo—followed Lynne through the compound.
It felt nothing like Zaun.
"So what's powering all this again?" Vi asked, eyeing a massive rail-lift system sliding quietly through its track.
Lynne adjusted her glasses and gestured to the looming tower. "Virellite. When the Clocktower fired up, the converter vacuumed smog and waste and stabilized it. Now it generates power like nothing else."
Vander raised an eyebrow. "I didn't follow most of that."
Lynne smirked. "Ashryn's explanation boils it down: 'Poison into power.' Works for most."
They passed through sectors under renovation. Conveyor systems ran seamlessly, drones patrolled rooftops, and new refrigerated hubs cooled essential supplies—food, medicine, water.
Powder spun with excitement. "Are those hover-carts?"
"Mobility units," Lynne nodded. "Used for scouting, supply delivery, and emergency transport."
Soon, they reached the converter chamber—a glowing heart nestled at the tower's core. Its walls pulsed with blue-white veins of power. The room thrummed with life.
"This baby," Lynne tapped the console, "filters out Grey and mana waste from the air, and turns it into stable energy. Powers the entire sector. Unless someone kicks it—please don't."
Vi whistled low. "This powers everything?"
"Factories, transport lines, clean water, city-wide refrigeration, drone systems, communication relays."
She flicked a panel. A full-city map unfurled from the wall—complete with glowing routes and surveillance networks.
Ashryn's voice called from behind, "All non-lethal, by the way."
Vi turned to see Ashryn enter, vapor gauntlets clipped to her hips and her usual grin in place.
"Pulse rounds. Disruption fields. Stun traps. No kill shots unless we're forced."
Mylo frowned. "Why not just... y'know, real weapons?"
Lynne answered smoothly, "Because we're building a city, not burning one."
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POV: Mixed (Clocktower Meeting Room)
The crew gathered in a sleek meeting hall lit by ambient converter glow. Glass, steel, and exposed conduit gave the room a high-tech but grounded feel.
Ashryn lounged at the head of the table, boots up, finishing off a wrapped snack.
"You made it," she said brightly. "Tour okay?"
Vi folded her arms. "You've built a damn city."
Ashryn shrugged. "Just scaffolding. The real foundation is people."
Vander's crew settled in—Sevika with arms crossed, Claggor leaning in, Powder still wide-eyed. Ashryn's crew was already there: Callum scribbling notes, Lynne checking building stats, Cael sipping from a synth-mug, Viktor buried in a datasheet.
Ashryn looked to Vander. "You want in? Then you're in. But this place ain't a charity. Everyone earns their keep. That includes you."
Vander nodded. "We understand."
She turned to Callum. "Status on the last conflict?"
"Two enforcer squads down. Five shimmer casualties. We left equipment behind—non-lethal disruptors, tagged and traceable."
Vi blinked. "You left them weapons?"
Ashryn spun her chair. "Not weapons. Messages. If Heimerdinger and Jayce hate weaponizing tech—and they do—then we give them something else to copy."
Vi frowned. "And if they build real weapons anyway?"
Ashryn grinned. "Then we've got the better ones."
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POV: Silco (Silco's Lab)
The air hissed purple.
Singed monitored shimmer reactions behind reinforced glass. The substance twitched and pulsed like something alive.
"It's unstable," Singed warned.
"So am I," Silco muttered. "Fix it."
Reports lay scattered—Ashryn's troops using tech he didn't understand. Vander's gang aligning with her. His grip fading.
"Forget Orianna's cure," he snapped. "Shimmer. Stronger. Faster. Better."
Singed hesitated. "She needs—"
"She needs a father who doesn't lose. Make. It. Stronger."
The tubes glowed brighter.
Silco stared through the glass, voice low. "Ashryn builds cities. Marcus fields armies. I make monsters. And monsters aren't enough anymore."
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POV: Marcus (Piltover Command)
"They beat us," Marcus growled.
He stared at confiscated gear—pulse rifles, vapor gauntlets, cling mines. Not one lethal. Not one casualty on Ashryn's side.
"Send the tech to the Academy. Request reinforcements. Weapons. Anything."
His second-in-command hesitated. "The Council—"
"Lie to them if you have to."
He leaned on the table, blood on his coat. "If this keeps up, we won't be defending Piltover. We'll be cleaning up what's left of it."
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POV: Jayce & Caitlyn (Piltover Academy, Jayce's Lab)
Jayce studied the circuitry of a pulse rifle, frowning. "She's not trying to kill us."
Caitlyn nodded. "She's making a statement. Tactical. Non-lethal."
Jayce agreed. "If we copy this tech, we could avoid escalation."
She leaned over his shoulder. "Zaunite engineering... and no casualties. Impressive."
"She's not the enemy we expected," Caitlyn said quietly.
Jayce examined the conduit. "Stable. Elegant. Virellite-powered. If I swap it with a Hextech gemstone..."
He placed one in the slot.
The weapon hummed—smooth and balanced.
Caitlyn raised an eyebrow. "That's your first stable gemstone?"
Jayce smiled. "Made it myself. No Council votes. No debates. Just science."
Before he could boast about it the pulserifle started to short circuit and zapped his hand and fell to the floor before melting on its own.
Jayce scratched his chin embarrassed,"Guess it's not that easy, I have to revamp it for hexgems compatibility."
Caitlyn shook her head exasperated.
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