2. The City That Shouldn't Be
Chapter 2 – The City That Shouldn't Be
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POV: Ferros Envoy
The clank of carriage wheels over steel grated in his ears. Not because of the sound—but because of what it meant.
A toll. A literal toll.
Two golden hexes, per head, just to cross the bridge. The Bridge of Progress, no less. It was Piltover's pride—its artery, its symbol of engineering supremacy. And now?
Now it belonged to them.
The envoy of Clan Ferros adjusted his coat, the light catching on the polished chrome of his spectacles. He stood tall, lean, and cold, as expected of his station—but beneath the veneer, frustration churned like a miscalibrated core.
He remembered clearly the first time hex-crystals went missing. Only a handful at first. Security was breached, but no one took it seriously. Not until Jayce Talis—bright-eyed, self-important, unsanctioned—put on a demonstration that lit the academic district ablaze with speculation.
Hextech. A word that shouldn't exist.
Ferros had owned the future. Minerals, shipments, industrial leverage. The economy ran through their fingers like silk. But Jayce and his magical gemstones? That had changed everything. Power had moved. Subtly. Irrevocably.
Then came her.
A name that started as a whisper in the lower city—Ashryn. No clan. No inheritance. No god-given right to rule.
And yet… she ruled.
She didn't just throw out the chem-barons. She devoured them. One by one. And in their place, she built something the Ferros envoy didn't quite understand. A state? A rebellion? A dream?
It didn't matter.
What mattered was that Piltover had lost the lanes. Lost the undercity. Lost control.
We allowed this.
He had been instructed to attend this "public formation," not by the Council, but by his Lady. Her words were clear:
"Observe. Record. Do not interfere—unless opportunity demands it."
Even now, her tone echoed in his head like razors on glass.And now here he was, sitting among dignitaries from Bilgewater and Ionia, his seat too warm from the polished ceramic heaters built into the benches, waiting for a child sovereign to deliver a nation's future like it were a street performance.
But when Ashryn stepped out—bare-shouldered coat fluttering like some bastard admiral, blue eyes burning through the smoky air—he swallowed the rest of his disdain.
There was something…uncomfortable about her presence. Too calm. Too collected. Too deliberate for someone so young.
She looked like someone who had seen the abyss.
And decided to build a city on top of it.
She doesn't act like a ruler. And yet…
She had power.
Real power. The kind you couldn't buy, inherit, or dress up in a boardroom.
The envoy felt something unfamiliar stir in his gut.
Discomfort.
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Third Person POV — Clocktower Plaza, Virelle
The crowd filled the plaza like a rising tide—Zaunites, Virellians now, pressed shoulder to shoulder, whispering, speculating, watching the central dais. Vibrant banners in silver and ocean blue hung from scaffolded towers, the Virelle crest gleaming like freshly struck coin. Children perched on balconies. Merchants clutched their ledgers tight. Even the street gangs had cleaned up—barely.
High above, Guards patrolled rooftops. Vi moved like a shadow between them, double-checking every post. Pulse rifles checked. Rooftop snipers stationed. If anyone made a move, they'd regret it.
In a quieter corner, Powder sat cross-legged on a generator box, fiddling with a pocket drone. Ekko lounged beside her, watching the crowd with casual detachment. Claggor and Mylo argued over who would climb the lightpost first for a better view.
"Bet you fifty chits I can see Ashryn's coat lining from here," Claggor said.
"No deal. It's probably glowing or something."
"...It is glowing."
At the dais, Lynne stepped forward first, slate in hand, glasses glinting in the light.
"Citizens of Virelle," she called, her voice amplified through directional relays. "Today, you witness history."
The murmurs died.
"From broken alleys to a rising skyline, from stolen futures to earned destiny—our city stands."
She turned and nodded. "Presenting… Lady Ashryn Virelle."
A cheer erupted, loud and raw.
Ashryn stepped forward, one hand raised in mock solemnity, the other flicking back her coat like she was walking onto a stage. She let the applause roll over her like waves on metal.
Then, she coughed—once, dramatically—and stood a little straighter.
"Citizens of Virelle. Guests of Piltover. Merchants of Bilgewater. Friends from Ionia," she began, voice rising with a showman's grace. "Today marks the end of an era… and the beginning of a new one."
She extended both arms. "Zaun, the city of chains, is no more. Virelle, the City of Change, rises from its ashes!"
Thunderous cheers.
"But change," Ashryn continued, pacing slowly, "needs structure. Dreams need spines. And cities need leaders."
She gestured behind her. A series of steel panels slid open, revealing the ceremonial stand bearing the Virelle crest.
"One by one," she declared, "I name those who will shape this city."
"Cael—Minister of Finance. The man who turned a vault full of IOUs into a working treasury."
Cael stepped forward stiffly, offering only a short nod. He looked mildly annoyed by the attention.
"Lynne—Minister of Civil Affairs. If something happens in Virelle, she already knows about it. And probably planned for it."
Lynne stepped forward with grace.
"Callum—Minister of Defense and Foreign Affairs. Our Youngest fighter. Also the Quickest trigger. And the Boldest heart."
Callum strode out, exuding raw nerves and pride. He looked like he might salute, then changed his mind halfway.
"Sevika—Minister of Justice. Most of You know her fists. Now, you'll see her fairness."
A rumble of laughter and respect as Sevika stomped forward, arms crossed, unimpressed with the ceremony.
"Viktor—Minister of Science and Research. If you knew how little he had to work with and what he made anyway... you'd call it sorcery."
Viktor nodded slightly, a ghost of amusement in his tired eyes. Singed in his frenzy to save his daughter worked him to the bone.
Ashryn turned to them, her voice shifting into something powerful and still. "Ministers of Virelle. Do you swear to uphold the dignity, safety, and freedom of our people, above all else?"
"We swear," they answered together, hands resting on the crest.
Ashryn walked up to each of them and draped over a coat like the one she wears, black long coat with blue and silver linings with virelle's symbol on the back and shoulders.
The applause that followed was nearly deafening.
Ashryn raised her arms again.
"I know they are amazing But what's a leadership without results? Let's talk about our innovation. These will be commercially available in virelle and our foreign guest can also order batches from our Commerce Department under Finance Ministry."
A platform beside her unfolded, revealing a row of suspended projectors. With a wave of her hand, holograms lit the air.
"These are Refrigeration Units," she said. "Affordable cold storage where you can store food or other perishable things for preservation—because no one should lose food or medicine to the heat."
"The foods that only last for hours, can last for days inside it and that can last days, can last for weeks inside it."
"These cuties are my favourite Signal Relays. Long-range, real-time voice communication. No runners. No delays. Just answers."
"These can not only be used in workplaces, can also be used to connect friends and families."
"Unfortunately these are restricted to foreign guest as they cannot be used outside of virelle. So this virelle exclusive."
"Next on our list is Skyrail Transit. Suspended, modular, fast. The Cauldron to the Sunken Market in under ten minutes. Try beating that on foot."
"All of our products require virellite batteries which will be provided to all our registered residents monthly. Private trades of virellite is forbidden and highly punishable by law. For those who want more or those who are not our residents they could buy from our commercial outlets."
"Again these products are virelle exclusive now. But we can sell the tech for the right price."
She went on to demonstrate each products and their specs.
Jayce's eyes gleamed with intense frevour as he absorbed all that is said. These are all that he wanted to do with hextech, To improve the lifes of people and help them however he can. but only things he made with hextech are wepons.
His bated breath made mel and caitlyn to take a step back but their attention quickly drawn to the stage again they didn't want to miss anything either.
The crowd murmured, then clapped, then roared.
Off to the side, Viktor gave a rare smile.
Ashryn stepped forward, her voice steady.
"These aren't weapons. These are tools. For dignity. For growth. For life. Virelle doesn't just defend. Virelle builds."
Her eyes swept across the plaza—to Pilties, to Ionian robes, to Bilgewater coats.
"To those who watch us from towers, from islands, from temples—know this. We do not seek conquest. But we will never bow again."
She lifted her chin.
"We will deal, trade, and treat with honor. But we are not your back-alley. We are not your burden."
Her voice rose, triumphant.
"We. Are. Virelle."
The response came like thunder.
The Ionian delegates, serene and passive as ever, exchanged silent glances. One leaned slightly to the other.
"We need to contact Sett or Irelia. they showed what they can offer. And we need to get those before that barbarians can get their hands on them
"If we have those we wouldn't need to contact Sett with Messenger birds."
On the other side, the Bilgewater trio stood relaxed but alert, their outfits half-ceremonial, half-functional. One of them, a wiry woman with scars like claw-marks, scoffed. "Funny. No one cared this much when Miss Fortune took over. Maybe we needed a speech too."
Thorne chuckled to himself. "Not bad," he muttered. "For someone who's not wearing a corset of bullets." His eyes gleamed at the refrigeration units, he could already see how that will change sea routes.
Ashryn stood at the center, basking in the cheers, the flags, the wind. She looked like someone born for this stage.
And maybe she was.
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