16. Den Of the Wolfs
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Chapter 16 – Den of the Wolfs
Today was an unusually bright day in Piltover. Sunlight filtered through the towering spires and glass-paneled walkways, glinting off polished brass fixtures and casting dancing reflections across the bridge of progress. The main road leading from the iconic bridge to the Council Hall was unusually crowded, a current of tension pulsing through the gathering masses. Spectators, officials, and enforcers alike lined the path—drawn not by rumor, but by spectacle.
A group of around a hundred individuals in silver-white uniforms with ocean-blue linings stood out starkly against the more familiar navy-blue of Piltover's enforcers. They moved with disciplined precision, forming an escort formation that radiated authority and intent. Their arrival had sparked murmurs throughout the upper district—after all, these weren't Piltovans. These were the enigmatic enforcers of Virelle, the city that had risen from beneath Piltover's feet just a few years ago, transforming Zaun's broken back into a banner of ambition.
At the center of the commotion stood seven distinct figures, five from Virelle and two from Piltover. Despite the undeniable tension between them, there was a surprising lack of overt hostility. The situation could have easily demanded animosity, yet here they were—cordial, composed, and guarded.
After all, Cassandra Kiramman's impression of Ashryn Virelle had evolved dramatically since her visit to the rising city years prior. She had seen the impossible become tangible, witnessed firsthand how the undercity had crafted civilization from rubble. Now, as Piltover prepared to host its most volatile guests, she wished to return the same degree of courtesy Virelle had once extended to her and her delegation. Even under suspicion, she believed that diplomacy must begin with dignity.
That said, the accusations hanging in the air were undeniable—namely, Virelle's alleged involvement in the mysterious disappearance of Mel Medarda. It wasn't war yet, but the scales teetered ever so slightly with each passing day. Cassandra respected Ashryn's vision, her tenacity, and her almost prophet-like grasp of long-term political shifts. They were opponents—but not yet enemies.
Not yet.
Not until the truth about Mel's disappearance was confirmed.
As for Ashryn, she remained her chaotic, playful self, unfazed by the symbolism or the stakes. She didn't care if she was walking into the wolf's den. If Ambessa Medarda wanted to throw hands, Ashryn was more than ready. While she often lacked the patience for drawn-out fights against obscure, trick-based champions, she relished the idea of going toe-to-toe with a brute-force fighter like Ambessa. That was right up her alley.
And even if worst came to worst—even if she lost in pure close-quarters combat—she still had a contingency.
She could always unleash Virelle's evolved weaponry, now enhanced by rune-based tech that harnessed magic. And if Camille decided to step in, then Orianna would finally have an opportunity to test her prototype arsenal. Though Orianna lacked even the most basic real-world combat experience, Ashryn believed she had the raw firepower to suppress Camille, and enough durability to learn mid-battle. After all, her brain now functioned like a CPU—built to adapt.
With Vi and Sevika at her side, both battle-hardened and carrying an absolute advantage in firepower, Ashryn had complete confidence. The den wasn't so scary when you were the bigger predator.
Especially now, when Jayce had stopped developing weapons and instead thrown himself into his lifelong dream of perfecting the Hexgate Network. His newfound dedication to that project had even brought Heimerdinger out of retirement to assist him. But after Mel's disappearance, Jayce had become visibly rattled. Their relationship had been slowly growing over the last two years, though it was never publicly confirmed.
Still, the absence of Mel left a shadow in his eyes.
Among the Virelle group, it was Orianna who drew the most attention—not because of her robotic body, but due to her fully-covered, mysterious appearance. She moved like a cipher, her every motion precise and strange, with Vi walking beside her, murmuring something quietly. Ashryn had asked Orianna to be a trump card if things went south—but she hadn't considered how this might backfire. Covered in that way, Orianna looked eerily mage-like, and Piltover's tensions with mages were already razor-thin.
Given Virelle's favorable stance on mages, and the strange timing of Mel's disappearance, even Cassandra and Caitlyn, who had initially defended Virelle, now felt that tinge of doubt. They kept their suspicion masked, unwilling to act without evidence—but the seeds of uncertainty had already been planted.
Meanwhile, the rest of the Virelle delegation looked around Piltover with childlike curiosity. For most of them, this was their first time in the city's upper districts. Back when they were Zaunites, they'd never wandered beyond the merchant zones, and even then, it was always under risk.
Even Vi, who had had her fair share of rooftop escapades in Piltover, was seeing the city in a new light—for the first time, she was walking the streets without needing to hide. She spoke animatedly, gesturing broadly as she regaled Orianna with stories of the past. Orianna listened in silence, her eyes flickering behind the coverings of her hood, absorbing everything with infinite curiosity.
Though she had grown up in the merchant district, Orianna had visited the main district before. The city had changed.
Cael and Sevika were walking just ahead, whispering strategies to each other about how to respond if verbal or physical attacks broke out. They moved with caution, but not fear. After all, they were here with Ashryn.
Ashryn herself was walking with Cassandra, the two conversing with a strange sort of mutual amusement. This was diplomacy at the edge of a blade.
That left Caitlyn, newly promoted to captain, to trail behind awkwardly. She watched the group with an odd mixture of nostalgia and unease. During her confinement years ago, she had gotten along with most of them—especially Vi. For all her sarcasm and snark, Vi's ideals lined up perfectly with Caitlyn's own.
But now?
Now, with this cloaked, robotic figure walking beside Vi—one that radiated unknown power—Caitlyn found herself unsure of how to approach. The weight of politics, the fog of suspicion, and the pressure of her new rank bore down like chains.
And just like that, the group arrived at the Council Hall.
It was packed.
Council members, bureaucrats, scholars, security heads, and military observers had all gathered for the upcoming discussion. The entire political landscape of Piltover was about to be shaken, and no one wanted to be absent when history turned.
Among the attendees, two figures clearly stood out.
One was a muscular, brown-skinned woman with light brown eyes, exuding the aura of a battlefield legend. Her coily hair, ranging from grey to black, was worn loose above her shoulders. She was clad in Noxian military regalia, black and red with silver metallic accents, a red cloak lined with black fur hanging off one side. Her body bore the marks of a warrior—scars that spoke of a hundred battles. She was the Matriarch of War.
Ambessa Medarda.
The other was a towering, elegant figure, with beautiful yet inhuman features. Her pale white skin, sharp cheekbones, and piercing electric blue eyes were accentuated by her short platinum hair. Her lower body was entirely replaced by massive prosthetic blades, her hips exaggerated and reinforced to house her iconic grappling lines. She wore sleek cyborg armor of black, dark blue, and steel gray, covering her entirely save her striking face.
Camille Ferros.
When Ashryn saw them, she couldn't help but let out a humorous chuckle. Her strides quickened as she approached them, the momentum in her step building with anticipation. She came to a sudden halt just before them, her coat fluttering slightly with the stop. The tension that followed was suffocating—the very air in the room felt like it had thickened, and nearly every eye in the hall turned toward the trio.
Ashryn gave both of them a wide, toothy grin.
And that…
was the smell of sparks waiting for flame.
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End of chapter 16 and Act 4