(Marvel, DC, the images, manhuas, and every anime mentioned or used in this story do not belong to me. They belong to their respective owners. The main character, Karito/Adriel Josue Valdez, and this story belong to me.)
The past few days in Viktor's commune had been peaceful.
Almost suspiciously so.
There had been no invading armies marching along the roads. No corrupted miracles spreading through the settlement. No celestial spider-gods appearing to tear reality apart because they had apparently grown bored with ordinary violence.
People simply woke up, worked, ate, rested, and repeated the process the next day.
Viktor could not have been more satisfied with that outcome.
After Adriel relocated the commune, its people adapted to their new surroundings remarkably well. The settlement was no longer buried within the lowest depths of Zaun, surrounded by metal, stone, toxic air, and the constant reminder that Piltover existed comfortably above them.
Here, there was open land.
Fresh air.
Trees.
Enough space for the commune to expand without forcing another family into every narrow corner.
The change had done wonders for everyone.
Gardens had begun spreading across the hillsides. New homes appeared almost daily, built from sturdy timber and materials Adriel provided whenever the workers ran short. Water channels carried clean water through the settlement, while unfamiliar machines handled tasks that once required hours of exhausting labor.
At this point, calling the place a commune no longer felt entirely accurate.
It was becoming a small town.
Every day brought something new.
A more efficient irrigation system.
Improved medical equipment.
Heating devices that did not choke the air with smoke.
Lights that remained active without needing the Hexgates, Piltover's power network, or anything else the people here understood.
Some of those advancements came directly from Adriel. Others came from his companions, who possessed knowledge from worlds Viktor had never imagined could exist.
Their presence had accelerated the commune's development by years.
Perhaps decades.
Viktor was grateful for it.
He was also grateful that Adriel had made no attempt to replace him.
The Guardian easily could have.
Adriel possessed the power to construct entire buildings in minutes, provide nearly unlimited resources, cure illnesses Viktor had spent years trying to understand, and solve problems before most people even realized those problems existed.
If Adriel wished to take control of the commune, there was little Viktor could have done to stop him.
Instead, Adriel continued directing people toward Viktor whenever they approached him with decisions concerning the settlement.
He offered assistance.
He offered advice.
But he never attempted to make Viktor irrelevant.
That restraint meant more than Viktor had expressed aloud.
At the moment, Viktor was completing one of his daily walks through the settlement with Sky beside him.
They inspected the gardens, spoke with several families, and checked on the new structures being built along the eastern slope. It was not glamorous work, but Viktor had never needed glamour.
Seeing people live comfortably was enough.
Today, however, they had company.
Peter Parker walked with them.
Adriel had introduced Peter to Viktor the previous day, and Viktor had known almost immediately that the man possessed an exceptional mind.
It had been there in his eyes.
The way Peter observed everything around him without appearing distracted by any single detail. The way his attention lingered on machinery, structural supports, irrigation channels, and even the arrangement of tools beside a worker's bench.
It reminded Viktor of the look he and Jayce once shared while developing Hextech.
Curiosity sharpened by calculation.
A mind already pulling something apart before the rest of the body had decided whether touching it was appropriate.
Peter had proven Viktor's assessment correct within minutes.
He was a scientist.
An extremely capable one.
They currently stood beside one of the commune's new water-purification units, a compact machine Adriel had produced after several residents complained that the older filtration system struggled to support the town's growing population.
Peter crouched beside the device with one panel open.
Viktor stood over him, studying the narrow collection of tubes, filters, and unfamiliar components within.
Sky watched from the other side.
Peter pointed toward a small cylindrical chamber near the center.
"This part is doing most of the heavy lifting. The water passes through a basic physical filter first, but this chamber breaks down the contaminants that are too small to catch normally."
Viktor leaned closer.
"Through heat?"
"Not exactly. Heat would work, but then you'd waste energy cooling the water afterward." Peter tapped the chamber lightly. "This uses a combination of ultraviolet exposure and a reactive membrane."
Viktor studied it in silence.
The arrangement was compact.
Almost deceptively simple.
"And the membrane does not degrade?"
"It does," Peter admitted. "Everything degrades eventually. But it should last several months before it needs replacing."
"That creates a dependency."
Peter looked up.
Viktor gestured toward the machine.
"If Adriel is the only person capable of producing this material, then the commune remains dependent upon him for its continued operation."
Peter smiled.
Not mockingly.
Approvingly.
"That's exactly what I told him."
Sky covered a small laugh with her hand.
Viktor glanced at her.
"What?"
"Nothing," she said, though the amusement remained visible. "I simply find it entertaining that the two of you reached the same criticism almost immediately."
Peter returned his attention to the machine.
"Adriel's solution to everything is usually, 'I can make another one.'"
Viktor's mouth twitched.
"That does sound like him."
"The problem is that he thinks in terms of what he can do, not what everyone else can maintain after he leaves."
Peter reached inside the machine and carefully removed a thin, translucent sheet from the chamber.
"So I suggested replacing this with something the commune can manufacture locally."
Viktor accepted the membrane and held it toward the light.
"And what material would you recommend?"
"That's what I'm still figuring out."
Viktor raised an eyebrow.
Peter shrugged.
"I've been here for a few days. Give me a little time."
Sky laughed again.
Peter pointed at her. "You're enjoying this way too much."
"I have spent years listening to Viktor and Jayce speak like this," Sky replied. "It is strangely comforting to know that scientists from other universes are equally incapable of having ordinary conversations."
"This is an ordinary conversation," Viktor said.
Sky stared at him.
Peter stared at him too.
Viktor looked between them.
"What?"
Peter stood and dusted his hands against his pants.
"Nothing. You're right. Completely ordinary."
Sky's smile widened.
Viktor chose not to dignify either of them with a response.
They continued walking.
Peter remained beside Viktor, still holding the machine's access panel beneath one arm because he had apparently forgotten to put it back. Sky noticed but decided to wait and see how long it would take him to realize.
They passed several newly built homes and a group of children chasing one another through the grass. Farther down the slope, workers were raising another structure beneath the guidance of one of Adriel's automated machines.
Viktor watched the construction for a moment.
"This place has changed considerably."
Peter followed his gaze.
"Seems like everyone adjusted pretty fast."
"They had little choice," Viktor said. "But I believe the change has been good for them."
His eyes traveled across the growing settlement.
"When I first founded the commune, I wanted to create a refuge. Somewhere people could escape the suffering that Zaun had accepted as ordinary."
Sky's expression softened.
"And you did," she said.
"For a time."
Viktor's voice lowered slightly.
"The commune was safe, but it was limited by its environment. There was only so much room beneath the city. Only so much clean water. Only so much air that could be purified."
Peter nodded slowly.
"And now you have space."
"Yes."
Viktor looked toward the distant tree line.
"More than I ever expected."
He knew whom he had to thank for that.
Adriel had preserved the commune.
He had saved Sky.
He had stopped Jayce from killing him.
Each debt alone would have been impossible to repay.
Together, they had become something Viktor could no longer properly measure.
After the conflict ended, Jayce, Sky, and Viktor had finally been given the opportunity to speak openly.
Jayce had explained what he had witnessed in the future.
The destruction.
The corrupted Hexcore.
The world Viktor's choices could have created.
He had convinced himself that killing Viktor was the only remaining path.
The necessary sacrifice.
Viktor understood why.
He did not know whether he could forgive it completely, but he understood.
Adriel's intervention had given them another possibility.
This version of Jayce did not have to live with murdering his closest friend.
Viktor did not have to die believing Jayce had betrayed him.
Sky did not have to remain nothing more than a consciousness trapped within the Hexcore.
Canon, as Adriel called it, had been bent so thoroughly that Viktor barely recognized where his intended story had ended and his new life had begun.
He was grateful for that.
Yet the outcome had not been happy for everyone.
Viktor's steps slowed.
Peter noticed.
"You okay?"
Viktor looked at him.
It was a simple question, but Peter's tone made it clear that he had not asked merely to be polite.
"I was thinking about the battle," Viktor admitted.
Peter's expression became more serious.
"The one with Anansi?"
"Yes."
The name alone darkened the peaceful walk.
Viktor still remembered the last time he had seen Adriel, Vi, Jinx, and Isha together.
Adriel had returned drenched in blood.
Not his own.
There had been pieces of something caught against his clothes. Gore covering his hands, chest, and face in amounts that made the truth impossible to avoid even before Vi explained it.
Isha had not returned with them.
Jinx had been incapable of speaking about what happened. She had withdrawn almost immediately, returning to the small home she occupied before Adriel constructed the enormous treehouse at the edge of the commune.
Vi had explained the rest.
Anansi had killed Isha in front of Adriel.
More specifically, he had torn the child apart while Adriel tried to reach her.
Viktor had been horrified.
Anyone with a conscience would have been.
No person should have been forced to witness something like that.
Yet Adriel's reaction afterward suggested this was not the first unbearable thing he had survived.
Viktor did not know the full extent of the Guardian's history.
Adriel rarely discussed it in detail.
But Viktor had seen enough suffering to recognize when someone carried far more than they admitted.
"I worry about him," Viktor said.
Peter looked toward Adriel's distant home.
"So do I."
"He does not appear to isolate himself when he is suffering," Viktor continued. "Not in the same manner as Jinx."
"No." Peter slid his hands into his pockets. "Adriel isolates himself differently."
Viktor glanced at him.
Peter's eyes remained on the path ahead.
"He stays around people. He jokes. He cooks. He helps with whatever needs doing." His mouth tightened. "But he doesn't always let anyone close to the actual problem."
Sky's earlier amusement faded.
"That sounds terribly lonely."
"It is," Peter said. "He's just good at making it look functional."
Viktor considered that.
Perhaps Adriel's companions had arrived at the right time.
Peter, Ace, and Artoria appeared to understand parts of him that Viktor could not. They possessed shared experiences, shared enemies, and a history that existed long before the commune became involved.
Adriel needed people capable of recognizing the masks he wore.
Jinx needed people too.
More than she currently understood.
Viktor released a quiet breath.
"At least he has all of you now."
Peter gave him a small smile.
"Yeah."
He looked down.
Then finally noticed the access panel still tucked beneath his arm.
Peter stopped.
Viktor looked at the panel.
Sky looked at the panel.
A few seconds passed.
Peter slowly turned back toward the filtration system, now far behind them.
"Right."
Sky covered her mouth, but the laugh escaped anyway.
Viktor allowed himself a faint smile.
"You are certainly intelligent."
"Thank you."
"Observant, however, may be another matter."
Peter stared at him.
Sky laughed harder.
Viktor continued walking as though he had said nothing unusual.
Peter hurried after them.
"Oh, so that's how it is?"
"I do not know what you mean."
"You've been hanging around Adriel too much."
"That is possible."
For the first time since the discussion turned toward Anansi, the heaviness eased.
The danger had not disappeared.
Isha was still dead.
Jinx was still grieving.
Adriel was still carrying wounds Viktor could not see.
But for the moment, the commune remained peaceful.
Sky walked beside him.
Peter continued talking.
And Viktor decided that he would allow himself to enjoy their company while he still could.
⟡ ⟡ ⟡
On the opposite side of the commune, beyond most of the newer buildings and farmland, a small lake rested between the surrounding hills.
It was quiet there.
Probably why Jinx had chosen it.
She walked along the shoreline with her weapons slung over her body, heading toward an improvised shooting range she had put together farther ahead. Several targets stood at different distances from the water, some made from wood, others from scraps of metal she had dragged out there herself.
Ace followed several paces behind her.
An odd pair, admittedly.
Jinx clearly thought so too.
She had tolerated his presence for the first several minutes without saying anything, but every now and then she glanced over her shoulder, visibly annoyed that he had not taken the hint and disappeared.
Ace noticed.
He simply did not care.
Maybe following someone who obviously wanted to be alone could be considered irritating.
Fine.
Let it be irritating.
Jinx had spent the past several days burying herself inside her room, building weapons that would accomplish absolutely nothing against Anansi, emerging mostly when Adriel forced her to eat or when she needed materials.
Ace knew what that kind of isolation could become if nobody interrupted it.
Besides, recent events had made him considerably more paranoid.
Several peaceful days did not mean much anymore.
For all Ace knew, Anansi could appear tomorrow, alter the sky into a fucking crossword puzzle, and announce that everyone had somehow lost before breakfast.
That bastard had already proven normal expectations meant nothing around him.
So Ace followed.
Eventually, Jinx stopped.
She slowly turned around.
"You know I wanted to come out here alone, right?"
Ace shoved his hands into his pockets.
"Yeah. I figured."
"Then why are you following me?"
"You're going pretty far from town."
Jinx rolled her eyes. "Nothing's gonna happen."
"That's usually what people say right before something happens."
"Anansi isn't gonna suddenly show up here."
Ace's expression flattened.
"You really wanna gamble on that?"
Jinx's jaw tightened.
"And if he does..." She looked away. "I'll just—"
"You'll what?"
That made her glare at him.
Ace gestured toward the weapons hanging from her body.
"No, seriously. What are you gonna do? Shoot him?"
Her eyes narrowed.
Ace sighed.
He really was trying not to sound like an asshole.
Unfortunately, honesty had apparently chosen violence today.
"Go ahead. Hit him with Hextech. I'm sure the primordial spider-god who can fuck with reality itself is gonna be devastated."
Jinx clicked her tongue and turned away.
"Asshole."
"Yeah, okay. That came out exactly as bad as I thought it would."
She resumed walking.
Ace followed.
"But I'm not saying it just to piss you off."
"Could've fooled me."
"Jinx."
She kept walking.
Ace's expression became more serious.
"You keep going off by yourself. You stay locked inside that room. You build weapons for someone you know almost nothing about, and every time somebody tries getting close, you push them away."
Jinx stopped again.
"Didn't Adriel already talk to you about this?"
Her shoulders stiffened.
"We're trying to help."
"I didn't ask for help."
"Yeah, people usually don't when they need it."
That earned him another glare.
Ace raised both hands.
"Look, I'm trying really hard not to sound like an asshole."
"You're failing."
"Terribly."
Despite herself, the corner of Jinx's mouth almost moved.
Almost.
Ace caught it but wisely decided not to point it out.
Then Jinx turned fully toward him.
"If you all want to help so badly, then do something."
Ace lowered his hands.
Her voice sharpened.
"You guys are stronger than everyone here. Hell, you're probably the strongest people on this entire planet."
She pointed back toward the commune.
"Adriel is supposed to be the strongest one out of all of you, right?"
Ace didn't hesitate.
"Yeah."
Jinx's expression hardened like she had just proven her point.
"Then if he couldn't kill Anansi, what the hell are three more of you supposed to do?"
Ace opened his mouth.
Jinx continued before he could answer.
"What? You'll hit him harder?"
"Jinx—"
"You'll punch reality better than Adriel did?"
"Listen."
"You expect me to sit around waiting while—"
"Jinx."
Something in Ace's tone finally stopped her.
He stared directly into her tired pink eyes.
"You don't understand how strong Anansi is."
She scoffed.
"I saw enough."
"No."
Ace's expression became grim.
"You really didn't."
That silenced her.
"The things that bastard has done before coming here? What you saw was barely the surface."
Ace glanced toward the lake.
"Adriel hurting him at all is impressive. And I'm not saying that because Adriel is weak. That idiot is probably stronger than the rest of us combined when he gets going."
Jinx folded her arms.
"But Anansi doesn't just hit hard."
Ace tapped the side of his head.
"He changes the rules."
Jinx's gaze sharpened.
"He can interfere with fate. Reality. Cause and effect. Fucking everything if he feels like it."
Ace shook his head.
"That's why Adriel lost. It wasn't just a matter of somebody being stronger."
His expression tightened.
"And that's exactly why he shouldn't have fought alone."
Jinx looked away.
Ace exhaled.
"With us here, I'm not gonna promise we suddenly win."
That part mattered.
He was not Adriel.
He was not going to give her some heroic speech about friendship guaranteeing victory.
Anansi would eat that shit for breakfast.
"But Adriel won't be alone this time."
Ace looked at her again.
"That changes something."
Jinx stayed quiet.
"So live a little until then."
Her eyes snapped toward him.
Ace shrugged.
"Yeah, I know. Sounds stupid."
"It does."
"Thanks."
She rolled her eyes.
"But spending every waking second thinking about revenge isn't gonna get you anywhere."
Jinx's expression immediately darkened.
Ace noticed.
He sighed.
"And before you say anything, I know exactly how hypocritical that sounds coming from me."
That caught her attention.
"What?"
Ace scratched the back of his head.
"There was a guy named Teach."
His usual easygoing expression disappeared.
"Marshall D. Teach. Blackbeard."
Jinx listened.
"He was part of Whitebeard's crew. Same family I eventually joined."
Ace's fingers curled slightly.
"One day, Teach killed one of our own. A guy named Thatch."
Jinx's eyes narrowed.
"He killed your friend?"
"Yeah."
Ace stared across the lake.
"And I went after him."
There was no pride in his voice.
"I was pissed. He killed one of our family and ran. I was a division commander. I thought it was my responsibility to make him answer for it."
Ace smiled bitterly.
"So I chased him."
He paused.
"People warned me."
Jinx said nothing.
"I went anyway."
His smile disappeared.
"And he beat me."
The wind shifted across the water.
"Teach handed me over to the World Government. They decided to publicly execute me."
Jinx blinked.
Ace laughed quietly, though there was no humor in it.
"So believe me, I'm probably the last person who should stand here and tell somebody that chasing revenge is stupid."
Jinx stared at him.
Ace shrugged.
"Sometimes revenge is justified."
That surprised her.
"I'm not gonna sit here pretending I'd forgive Anansi if I were you."
His eyes hardened.
"I wouldn't."
For the first time since Ace started talking, Jinx seemed to genuinely listen rather than simply wait for him to finish.
"If somebody did that to Luffy..."
Ace stopped.
His younger brother's face surfaced immediately.
That stupid straw hat.
That enormous smile.
The absolute confidence with which he announced impossible things like the universe had already agreed to them.
Ace huffed.
"I'd probably lose my damn mind."
Jinx tilted her head.
"Luffy?"
"My little brother."
"You have a brother?"
Ace looked at her.
"One of them."
There had been another.
Sabo.
For most of Ace's life, he had believed Sabo died when they were children. Another brother ripped away before any of them had gotten the chance to become the pirates they dreamed of becoming.
Maybe that was why looking at Jinx felt a little more familiar than Ace wanted to admit.
"His name is Monkey D. Luffy."
Jinx blinked.
"That's a weird name."
"Your name is Jinx."
"Fuck you."
Ace laughed.
"Fair."
Her expression softened slightly.
"So what's he like?"
Ace considered the question.
A thousand answers immediately fought for first place.
Annoying.
Reckless.
Stupid.
Loud.
Impossible.
He smiled.
"Unique."
Jinx raised an eyebrow.
"That's it?"
"You haven't met him."
Ace looked toward the sky.
"He told me he was gonna become King of the Pirates."
Jinx stared.
"King of the Pirates?"
"Yep."
"That's a thing?"
"Apparently."
Ace chuckled.
"I used to give him shit for it. He was this tiny crybaby brat who couldn't throw a punch properly, couldn't swim, kept following me everywhere..."
His smile grew warmer.
"But Luffy never really cared when people laughed at his dream."
Ace paused.
"He wanted to be free."
That word meant something to him.
Perhaps more than most.
"More free than anyone else on the sea."
Jinx watched him quietly.
"So yeah. As ridiculous as his dream sounded..."
Ace lowered his gaze.
"I believed him."
He still did.
Then the smile faded.
Jinx noticed immediately.
"What happened?"
Ace's fingers flexed beside him.
"He tried to save me."
Her brows furrowed.
"From the execution?"
"Yeah."
Ace exhaled slowly.
"He came all the way to Marineford. Broke into a war between the Navy and Whitebeard's entire fleet just to get me off that platform."
Jinx stared at him as though she already knew where this was going.
"And he did."
Ace's voice became quieter.
"We escaped the scaffold."
For a moment, he could almost hear it again.
The battlefield.
The screaming.
The cracking earth.
Whitebeard ordering them to leave him behind.
Akainu's voice cutting through everything.
Ace swallowed.
"Then one of the Admirals went after Luffy."
His hand subconsciously moved toward his chest.
"I got between them."
Jinx looked down at the motion.
Ace gave a humorless smile.
"His fist went straight through me."
Silence.
Even the lake suddenly seemed too quiet.
Jinx's mouth parted slightly.
"You died."
"Yeah."
"But..."
Her eyes moved over him.
"You're standing here."
"It's complicated."
Jinx stared.
Ace pointed at her.
"And before you start asking questions, trust me. You'll get a headache."
She closed her mouth.
Ace looked away again.
"The important part is..."
His voice caught.
He hated that it still did.
"When I was dying, I realized something."
Ace had spent his childhood wondering whether someone like him deserved to exist.
The son of Gol D. Roger.
The child people would have hated merely for being born.
He had spent years searching for an answer.
Marineford finally gave it to him.
"I spent most of my life wondering whether I should've been born at all."
Jinx's face changed.
That sentence landed somewhere different.
Ace noticed.
"But at the end..."
He smiled faintly.
"I knew I'd been loved."
Luffy.
Whitebeard.
The crew.
Sabo, even when Ace believed he had lost him.
Everyone.
"My brother was there."
Ace's eyes burned slightly.
He blinked and looked toward the water before the feeling could become anything more embarrassing.
"I died protecting him."
Jinx remained completely silent.
Ace breathed out through his nose and collected himself.
"So when I tell you this..."
He turned toward her.
"I'm not telling you to forget Isha."
Jinx stiffened.
"I'm not telling you to forgive Anansi."
Her teeth clenched.
"And I'm definitely not telling you to stop being angry."
Ace stepped closer.
"I'm telling you not to let the bastard take the rest of your life too."
That one reached her.
Jinx looked away.
Her fingers curled around the strap of her weapon.
Ace's voice softened.
"Isha already died."
Jinx's jaw trembled.
"Don't make everything you have left die with her."
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Jinx finally whispered,
"It's not easy to move on."
Ace nodded immediately.
"No."
She looked at him again.
"It fucking hurts."
"I know."
"You don't just wake up one day and suddenly stop thinking about them."
"I know."
Her eyes glistened, although she refused to let anything fall.
Ace did not approach any closer.
He did not touch her.
He simply stayed there.
Jinx breathed through her nose.
"It never gets easy."
Ace considered that.
"No."
Then he gave her a small smile.
"But eventually, you get better at carrying it."
Jinx stared at him.
That seemed to make more sense to her than moving on.
Maybe because moving on sounded too much like leaving Isha behind.
Carrying her was different.
Several seconds passed before Jinx sighed.
"I'll listen."
Ace blinked.
"What?"
"I said I'll listen." She glared. "Don't make me say it again."
His smile widened.
"There we go."
"Don't push it."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
Jinx turned and continued toward the shooting range.
Ace fell into step beside her this time instead of trailing behind.
After several quiet seconds, he rubbed his hands together.
"Alright. Enough depressing shit for one afternoon."
Jinx side-eyed him.
"Your idea of helping people is really weird."
"Worked, didn't it?"
"Debatable."
Ace grinned.
"Come on. Let's shoot some shit. Better than moping around all day and ruining everyone's mood."
Jinx scoffed.
"Yeah, whatever."
But there was something different in the way she said it.
Nothing miraculous.
Nothing fixed.
Isha was still gone.
The anger was still there.
The grief had not disappeared merely because a pirate she barely knew told her about his dead brother.
But Jinx no longer looked quite as determined to carry it alone.
For now, that was enough.
After their little heart-to-heart, Ace and Jinx finally reached their destination.
The shooting range sat along the far side of the lake, tucked away from the commune where the terrain opened into a stretch of uneven grass and dirt. Calling it a shooting range was being generous.
It looked more like Jinx had found an empty patch of land, dragged whatever junk she could carry out there, painted targets on half of it, and declared the problem solved.
Several wooden boards had been hammered into the ground at varying distances. Others were made from sheets of scrap metal, old machinery, bottles, cans, and objects Ace couldn't immediately identify. Most of the targets had been painted by Jinx herself.
That much was painfully obvious.
Bright blues, pinks, angry faces, crude drawings, and occasionally an insult were splattered across nearly everything.
Ace stopped and looked around.
"Damn."
Jinx glanced over her shoulder. "What?"
"Nothing. Just taking in the artistic vision."
She narrowed her eyes.
Ace pointed toward one target that appeared to have a badly drawn face with several teeth missing.
"Especially that masterpiece."
"Keep talking and I'll paint your face on the next one."
"See? That's the creative spirit."
Jinx rolled her eyes and continued walking.
There was considerably more equipment scattered around the area than Ace expected. Boxes of ammunition, loose mechanical parts, half-finished devices, explosives that probably should not have been sitting unattended, coils of wire, tools, and several inventions he recognized through Passive Knowledge.
And here he'd thought Adriel's basement and Jinx's bedroom already contained enough random shit to qualify as a hazardous-materials violation.
Apparently, that had only been the indoor collection.
Then Ace noticed the workshop.
It stood a short distance from the range, built partially against the slope overlooking the lake. Unlike the rest of Jinx's makeshift setup, the structure itself was surprisingly polished. Modern framework supported the building, large windows let natural light inside, and reinforced doors protected whatever insanity she kept behind them.
The paint job ruined any chance of it looking professional.
Which meant Jinx had absolutely decorated it herself.
Graffiti covered portions of the walls. Little monkeys, clouds, grinning bombs, arrows pointing nowhere, and brightly colored warnings had been painted across the exterior.
Ace stared at it.
"Adriel built this for you, didn't he?"
"Yep."
"Of course he did."
Jinx pushed the door open.
Ace followed her inside.
He's really spoiling these people.
Not that Ace particularly minded.
Adriel had always been excessive when improving someone's quality of life. He could have simply given the commune every solution imaginable and turned the entire place into a technological paradise overnight.
But he didn't.
He introduced things gradually.
Useful machines. Better infrastructure. Modern conveniences. Knowledge people could study and eventually reproduce themselves.
Enough to help.
Not enough to make everybody completely dependent on him.
It was almost exactly what had happened in Ixtal.
Although Qiyana had been an entirely different breed when it came to exploiting access to Guardian technology.
Ace still wasn't opening that can of worms.
He stepped farther inside the workshop and whistled.
"Okay. This is actually pretty impressive."
The place looked like a gunsmith, mechanic, chemist, and professional bomb-maker had all been forced to share the same building and somehow decided they liked it.
Weapons covered one wall.
Tools covered another.
Mechanical components lay scattered across several workbenches beside powders, chemicals, Hextech parts, metal scraps, and enough explosive material to make any reasonable person reconsider standing inside.
Ace looked around slowly.
"You've been busy."
Jinx puffed up slightly, visibly pleased.
"Well, I like building things." She shrugged. "Plus, it keeps me distracted."
Ace's expression softened.
"Yeah."
He understood that.
"That's understandable."
He wandered farther into the workshop, inspecting the collection.
Some of the devices were familiar.
Not because Ace had personally encountered them, but because Passive Knowledge helpfully filled in the blanks whenever he looked closely enough.
Weapons and gadgets Jinx had used throughout League of Legends.
Pieces derived from inventions shown in Arcane.
Even equipment that reminded him of things he'd seen associated with her in 2XKO.
Passive Knowledge really was convenient.
Sometimes disturbingly convenient.
Ace picked up a small device, examined it, then carefully placed it back exactly where he'd found it.
Then his attention landed on something he didn't recognize.
"...Huh."
Resting across one of the larger workbenches was a rifle.
A very large rifle.
Ace walked closer.
The weapon was long enough that calling it a sniper rifle almost felt insulting. Its frame combined Piltover precision with Zaunite improvisation. Polished components sat beside rougher reinforced plating, while Hextech mechanisms ran throughout the weapon.
There was an unreasonable amount of Hextech packed into it.
Ace stared.
If a .50-caliber rifle had an older brother who discovered magic and developed anger issues, this was probably what it would look like.
Jinx noticed where he was looking.
Her expression immediately soured.
"Before you ask..."
Ace glanced at her.
"Yes."
She crossed her arms.
"That's what I was building to use against him."
The venom behind the final word was unmistakable.
Ace looked back at the rifle.
Then snorted.
Jinx's eye twitched.
"What?"
"This would've disappeared out of your hands before you even pulled the trigger."
Jinx's shoulders dropped.
"Seriously?"
"I'm just saying."
"You already destroyed my plans five minutes ago."
Ace gestured toward the rifle.
"I'm not insulting the gun. The gun's cool."
"Wow. Thanks."
"I'm serious."
He leaned closer, studying the weapon.
"This thing looks like you bullied a cannon into becoming a sniper rifle."
Jinx almost smiled.
Almost.
Ace continued.
"But against Anansi?"
He straightened.
"You'd shoot, he'd probably turn the bullet into a butterfly or some bullshit, and then we'd all have to pretend that made sense."
Jinx clicked her tongue.
"I know."
Her gaze lowered toward the rifle.
"You already reminded me how hopeless the whole thing would've been. Don't need another lecture."
Ace's amusement disappeared.
He watched her for a moment before sighing.
"Alright."
He stepped away from the weapon.
"Then we're ignoring it."
Jinx looked at him.
"We came here to unwind, remember?"
Ace spread his arms and looked around.
"To be honest, this whole place basically looks like a rage room with engineering degrees."
Jinx scoffed.
"It's better than my old workshop in Zaun."
"Yeah, I can imagine."
Ace looked around again.
"Your last place probably looked like a scrapyard, bomb factory, and mental breakdown all happened in the same room."
Jinx stared at him.
"Fuck off."
Ace laughed.
Despite all her complaining, Jinx was enjoying his company.
It was strange.
Really strange.
Were all Guardians this easygoing?
Or was Ace simply an exception?
Adriel had always been relatively easy to talk to, at least in her opinion. There were times when he became distant or impossible to read, but casual conversation with him had rarely felt forced.
Peter was another matter entirely.
Jinx hadn't properly talked to him yet, but she'd already noticed how his attention shifted whenever machinery or technology came up.
They were both inventors.
If those two started talking shop, they'd probably disappear into a conversation for several hours and emerge speaking some incomprehensible mechanical language nobody else wanted to understand.
God forbid they dragged Ace into it.
He already barely survived Peter's scientific rants.
Adding Jinx would probably make him foam at the mouth.
Then there was Artoria.
Jinx's thoughts slowed.
The woman from dinner had caught her attention almost immediately.
It was difficult not to notice her.
Artoria was beautiful.
Not merely attractive in the ordinary sense, either. There was something almost unreal about her appearance. The way she carried herself, the way she spoke, the posture, the calmness.
Jinx couldn't remember ever meeting anyone quite like her.
One thing was obvious.
That woman was royalty.
Nobody acted that formal by accident.
Which, admittedly, made Jinx a little hesitant to approach her.
Artoria had been perfectly welcoming during dinner.
Gentle, even.
But there was still something intimidating about walking up to someone who looked like she belonged on a throne and casually saying, Hey, wanna talk?
If Artoria was anything like the other Guardians, Jinx would probably work up the nerve eventually.
Preferably, however, Artoria could approach her first.
Much less stressful that way.
"Hey."
Jinx blinked.
Ace was watching her from across the workshop while absentmindedly examining some random mechanical component.
"You good?"
She stared.
"You spaced out."
Jinx shook herself out of her thoughts.
"Nah, I'm fine."
A faint smile touched her lips.
"Just thinking."
Ace studied her.
Not suspiciously.
More like he was putting together a puzzle.
Then his eyes narrowed slightly.
"This have anything to do with Artoria?"
Jinx froze.
Her expression alone nearly answered the question.
Ace raised an eyebrow.
Jinx stared at him.
Can this asshole read minds too?
She was starting to wonder whether every Guardian secretly had some bullshit psychic ability they conveniently forgot to mention.
"Um..."
Great start.
"No?"
Ace's eyebrow climbed higher.
That had somehow sounded more suspicious than saying yes.
"What's got you all scrambled up in there?" He tapped the side of his head. "You've been looking at Artoria since dinner. You wanna talk to her or something?"
Jinx sighed.
Apparently there was no point pretending.
Besides, Ace wasn't trying to interrogate her.
He was just making conversation.
"What's she like?"
Ace blinked.
"What's she like?"
"Yeah."
"You're gonna have to give me more than that."
Jinx clicked her tongue.
"Her personality."
She leaned against one of the workbenches.
"She seems like the most... I don't know. Stoic one out of you guys."
"Oh."
Ace thought about it.
"She's nice."
Jinx waited.
Ace scratched his cheek.
"Really nice, actually. She's just formal."
"No shit."
"Yeah, okay."
Ace chuckled.
"But Artoria genuinely cares about people. More than she lets herself show sometimes."
His expression became slightly more thoughtful.
"And I admire her."
Jinx caught that immediately.
Ace didn't seem to notice.
"She's trying really hard to be better than who she used to be. She's done things she regrets, and instead of pretending they never happened, she's trying to make up for them."
He paused.
"She takes that seriously."
Jinx's curiosity increased.
"What was she before joining you guys?"
Ace went quiet.
That was a question he was absolutely not answering.
Not here.
Not casually.
And definitely not while standing inside a workshop surrounded by explosives.
"You're better off not knowing."
Jinx frowned.
"Why?"
"Because that's a very long story."
"I've got time."
Ace shook his head immediately.
"No. You don't understand."
He pointed at her.
"Artoria's backstory isn't just long. It's confusing."
"How confusing?"
Ace stared at her.
He considered explaining Heroic Spirits.
Then Servants.
Then Saber.
Then timelines.
Then alternate versions of Artoria.
Then the Holy Grail Wars.
Then Fate routes.
Then Lostbelts.
Then whatever the hell the Throne of Heroes actually decided counted as reasonable metaphysics.
His soul briefly left his body.
"Very."
Jinx squinted.
Ace continued before she could ask another question.
"If I start explaining who she was, we're gonna be standing here for hours."
"Can't be that bad."
"It absolutely can."
He pointed toward the door.
"And by the time I finish, neither of us will understand her story better than when we started."
Jinx stared at him skeptically.
Ace stared back.
For once, there was no joking in his expression.
He genuinely did not want to open that door.
Jinx finally shrugged.
"Fine."
"Thank you."
Ace sounded genuinely relieved.
Because there were enemies Ace was willing to fight.
Gods.
Monsters.
Darks.
Entire armies.
But explaining the Nasuverse?
Fuck that.
Even he didn't completely understand what the hell was happening in Artoria's universe.
Jinx began gathering several weapons and smaller devices from around the workshop.
Ace grabbed a few of the items she pointed toward, although he wisely asked before touching anything that looked remotely explosive.
Together, they carried everything outside.
The lake stretched peacefully beside them as Jinx began arranging her targets.
Ace helped reposition several farther downrange while she prepared her weapons.
Nothing particularly important happened.
Nobody attacked them.
No god appeared.
Reality did not collapse.
For once, they were simply two people wasting time beside a lake.
And after the conversation they'd had earlier, maybe that was exactly what Jinx needed.
Not another speech.
Not another person telling her everything would eventually be okay.
Just someone willing to stay nearby while she figured things out herself.
Ace walked back toward her after placing the final target.
"So, what's first?"
Jinx picked up one of her weapons.
A familiar little grin finally appeared.
"Depends."
Ace immediately distrusted that expression.
"Depends on what?"
"How attached are you to those targets?"
Ace looked toward the range.
Then back at Jinx.
"Oh, we're blowing shit up, aren't we?"
Her grin widened.
"Now you're getting it."
Ace laughed.
"Alright."
He stepped back.
"Show me what you got."
And thankfully, he had escaped the afternoon without explaining a single Holy Grail War.
Thank God for that.
⟡ ⟡ ⟡
Adriel stared at the blueprint spread across his desk, rolling a pencil between his fingers as he worked through another problem in his head.
The design was meant to improve the homes throughout Viktor's commune.
Or town.
At this point, calling the place a commune was becoming less accurate by the day.
He spun the pencil across his knuckles, caught it between two fingers, and leaned closer to the page. Several floor plans surrounded the central sketch, each one based loosely on housing designs from the twenty-first century.
Adriel could easily recreate any of them.
Molecular manipulation would handle the physical construction. Hacker could alter the materials, reinforce the structures, and ensure every system behaved exactly as intended.
That was the easy part.
The harder part was designing something the residents could eventually maintain without him.
The homes needed properly insulated walls, sealed doors, and double-paned windows to keep heat inside during winter and outside during summer. A compact heat-pump system could provide both heating and air conditioning without requiring separate machines for each season. Controlled ventilation would keep fresh air circulating without wasting the energy used to regulate the temperature.
Nothing impossibly advanced.
Nothing that would collapse the moment Adriel left and a replacement part broke.
He could provide the foundation, but the people living here needed to understand how everything worked. Otherwise, he wasn't helping them build a town.
He was making them dependent on him.
Adriel tapped the pencil against the page.
"Maybe modular walls..."
If each section could be removed independently, repairs would become much simpler. Local materials could be reinforced rather than replaced entirely with something foreign to Runeterra. He could also install better drainage around the foundations, especially for homes farther down the slope.
The idea was practical and useful.
Exactly the sort of thing he should have been concentrating on.
Instead, his thoughts drifted elsewhere.
Qiyana.
The pencil stopped moving.
Adriel leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling.
He wondered how she was doing.
How all of them were doing back in Ixtal.
They existed in a completely different dimension from this version of Runeterra, so logically, they should have been safe. Anansi was here. The other Darks had their own problems, territories, and plans.
There was no immediate reason to worry.
That had never stopped Adriel before.
His relationship with Qiyana complicated everything.
Did being with him expose her to the dangers surrounding the Darks?
Would they begin targeting her simply because they knew hurting her would affect him?
Adriel frowned.
Most Darks did not deliberately go after his loved ones. He could count the number of times it had happened on his hands.
Probably.
Unless he was remembering that wrong.
He sat there for a moment, genuinely trying to sort through memories accumulated across an incomprehensible amount of time.
Then he gave up.
Who the fuck was supposed to remember every detail from nine hundred quintillion years ago?
At least from his perspective.
Adriel released a tired sigh and let the pencil drop onto the blueprint.
Qiyana had told him she understood what she was getting into when she chose to be with him. She knew his life was dangerous. She knew the Darks would never stop coming and that peace could disappear the moment one of them decided to crawl out of whatever cosmic dumpster they called home.
She had still chosen him.
Her exact words had probably been more graceful than that.
But in Adriel's mind, she had essentially looked him in the eyes and said she was willing to walk through hell beside him.
That should have comforted him.
Instead, it only gave him another person he was terrified of losing.
Adriel rubbed his face.
"Fantastic."
The door to his study opened.
He glanced up.
Artoria entered with her usual posture and grace, carrying herself with the quiet dignity of someone who had once ruled an entire kingdom.
That image would have been considerably more impressive if she had not been holding an enormous bowl of loaded fries.
Adriel stared at it.
Golden fries disappeared beneath melted cheese, chopped bacon, sauce, and enough toppings to turn a snack into a full meal.
His papas locas.
Artoria calmly took another bite as she stepped into the room.
Adriel looked from her to the bowl.
Then back to her.
"Where did you get that?"
"The kitchen."
"That did not answer the important part of the question."
Artoria swallowed.
"You prepared them earlier."
"For me."
"You prepared a large amount."
"Because I wanted a large amount."
"And now there is less."
Adriel stared at her.
Artoria stared back while holding his stolen food.
The complete absence of guilt in her expression somehow made it worse.
He pointed at the bowl. "You know, Vi already steals my ice cream. I don't need you developing that kind of shit too."
"I did not steal them."
"Then I must be seeing things, because I clearly see you eating my fries while giving me the best poker face imaginable."
"You left them unattended."
"FYI, that's stealing."
Artoria took another fry.
"I disagree."
"Of course you do."
She walked farther inside and looked around the study.
Blueprints covered nearly every available surface. Schematics for homes, roads, drainage systems, public buildings, emergency shelters, water lines, electrical networks, and several projects Adriel had not yet decided how to explain to Viktor were spread across the walls and tables.
Artoria examined them silently.
"You have been here for quite some time."
"I've been busy."
"For seven hours."
Adriel blinked.
"Has it really been seven?"
"Yes."
"Huh. That's crazy."
He looked back toward the blueprint.
"That explains why my back hurts."
Artoria sighed.
"I am bored."
Adriel slowly turned toward her.
The expression on his face said everything his mouth had not yet bothered to form.
"And?"
She waited.
Adriel gestured around the room.
"What the hell do you expect me to do? Teach you how to juggle?"
"No."
"Perform a musical number?"
"No."
"Fight a bear?"
Artoria considered that one.
Adriel narrowed his eyes. "There's no way you're seriously considering that shit."
"I merely thought it might be entertaining."
"That sounds like a you problem."
Artoria placed the bowl on the corner of his desk.
"It has become our problem."
"The fuck do you mean, our?"
"Exactly what you heard."
"There is no 'our' in boredom."
"There is now."
Adriel leaned back in his chair and studied her.
She looked genuinely restless.
Artoria had always been patient, sometimes to an almost unreasonable degree. She could remain in one place for hours without complaining if she believed there was a purpose behind it.
Apparently, several months around Ace had begun corrupting that patience.
Adriel should have expected it.
That man had the supernatural ability to turn stillness into a personal enemy.
"I'm doing stuff," Adriel said.
"You have done nothing except work since this morning."
"I took a break."
"When?"
"I went to the bathroom and took a shit."
"That detail was not necessary."
"Sure it was."
"That also does not count."
"Says who?"
"Common sense."
"Common sense is subjective."
Artoria's eyes narrowed.
Adriel stared back.
For several seconds, neither moved.
Then Artoria walked around the desk, grabbed his wrist, and pulled him out of the chair.
"Whoa—hey!"
Adriel caught himself before stumbling into her.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"We are leaving."
"No, you are leaving. I am being kidnapped."
"You are capable of escaping."
"That does not make this any less of an abduction."
Artoria continued dragging him toward the door.
Adriel glanced desperately toward his unfinished blueprint.
"My work."
"It will remain there."
"You don't know that. Maybe the paper gets lonely."
"The paper will survive."
"You sound very confident for someone who doesn't understand its emotional needs."
Artoria ignored him.
Adriel could have stopped her easily.
That was not the point.
She was clearly determined to get him out of the room, and judging by the faint eagerness in her expression, she already had something planned.
Which meant saying no would probably lead to a longer argument.
He sighed and allowed himself to be dragged into the hallway.
"Where are we going?"
"You will see."
"I hate that answer."
"I know."
"Then tell me."
"No."
"Son of a..."
Adriel stared at the back of her head.
Ace was definitely rubbing off on her.
She used to be patient.
Polite.
Reasonable.
Now she stole his food, invaded his office, and dragged him around his own house while refusing to explain anything.
Character development was a scam.
Artoria led him down the stairs and toward the front entrance. Adriel tried to think of what she could possibly have planned within a settlement that had only recently progressed from a somewhat medieval commune with steampunk technology into an increasingly modern town.
There were no shopping centers, arcades, or movie theaters outside the one he could technically build whenever he felt like it.
The town did not even have a proper restaurant yet.
Adriel had no idea.
Whatever Artoria had planned, apparently, she believed it was worth interrupting seven hours of architectural nonsense.
When they reached the entrance, Vi was leaning against the wall beside the door.
She noticed them and raised one hand.
"Well, look who finally crawled out of his cave."
Adriel smirked.
"I wasn't in a cave. I was working."
"Same difference. You've been locked in there all day drawing lines and muttering to yourself like some crazy-ass scientist."
"They are blueprints."
"They look like lines."
"That is because your understanding of architecture begins and ends with punching through walls."
Vi pushed away from the wall.
"Hey, walls make doors if you hit them hard enough."
"Thank you for proving my point. You walked straight into that one."
She glanced at Artoria, who still had a firm grip around Adriel's wrist.
"So she finally dragged you out?"
"Dragged me? That's an understatement. Fuck my opinion, I guess."
Artoria remained perfectly composed. "He is exaggerating."
Vi looked at Adriel.
"You could stop her."
"Thank you, Vi. I hadn't considered using my absurd cosmic strength."
"Then quit bitching."
Adriel placed his free hand against his chest.
"The lack of sympathy in this household is fucking devastating."
Vi grinned.
"You'll live."
"We'll see about that."
Artoria opened the front door and finally released his wrist.
Adriel stepped outside beside her.
Then immediately considered turning around.
Caitlyn stood a short distance from the entrance.
The moment she saw them, her expression brightened. She raised one hand and waved with far more enthusiasm than Adriel wanted directed at him.
"Good afternoon!"
Adriel stopped walking.
His entire body seemed to reconsider every choice that had brought him to this moment.
Slowly, he turned toward Artoria.
She met his stare without shame.
"No fucking way."
Artoria folded her hands in front of herself.
"You both need to speak."
Adriel's eyes narrowed.
Fuck no. There's nothing to talk about.
Earlier, Artoria had told Caitlyn that she should approach Adriel directly if she wanted answers. Apparently, she had decided that waiting for either of them to do so naturally would take too long.
So she had arranged an ambush.
A diplomatic ambush.
Adriel glanced toward Caitlyn again.
She was still smiling.
Fuck his life.
He should have ignored Artoria, stayed in his office, and continued playing Minecraft inside League of Legends like an overpowered city builder.
Instead, he was about to spend his afternoon with the one obnoxious brat he had been deliberately avoiding for approximately a month.
⟡ ⟡ ⟡
The group of four was certainly talkative.
Or rather, the three women were.
Vi carried most of the conversation, pointing out the newer buildings and explaining which parts of the commune had changed when everything was relocated to the mountains. Caitlyn was more than happy to speak with her again, responding whenever Vi addressed her and occasionally finding an excuse to ask a question that kept the conversation alive.
Artoria spoke whenever the attention shifted toward her, offering polite observations about the settlement and its progress.
Adriel contributed absolutely nothing.
He walked beside them with the same resting bitch face he had apparently been born with, his hands buried in his pockets and his attention fixed somewhere beyond the road ahead.
That did very little to ease Caitlyn's anxiety.
Every time she glanced toward him, she found the same flat expression waiting for her. No visible anger. No open hostility.
Somehow, that made it worse.
So Caitlyn continued speaking with Vi and Artoria instead.
The commune had progressed remarkably quickly since the Guardians arrived. New homes lined the wider paths. Water channels ran between the gardens. Heating systems, sanitation facilities, workshops, and reinforced public buildings had transformed what was once a fragile refuge into something resembling a proper town.
In time, perhaps it would become something more.
Most of the work could be traced back to Adriel.
He had spent days shaping foundations, reinforcing structures, installing machinery, and handing Viktor enough blueprints to keep the town developing without him.
All those years playing Minecraft had finally amounted to something.
Though, truthfully, Passive Knowledge deserved most of the credit.
Adriel simply preferred the funnier explanation.
He barely listened as Vi explained the new irrigation system, information she had probably picked up from one of his many rants.
He wanted to go home.
His unfinished schematics were still spread across his desk. The modular housing design needed adjustments, and he had yet to decide how much insulation each wall required before winter arrived.
But no.
Artoria had decided he needed fresh air, companionship, and whatever the hell this was supposed to be.
Being dragged away from something while completely focused on it already irritated him. If someone gave him notice beforehand, he could prepare himself. If it were an emergency, he would abandon whatever he was doing without complaint.
This was neither.
It was the emotional equivalent of a parent telling their child to take out the trash in the middle of a ranked match.
If it were a real emergency, then fuck the random teammates.
But this?
Adriel knew he was bitching too much.
He admitted that much to himself.
He had recently gotten his ass handed to him by Anansi and added another memory to an already catastrophic collection of PTSD-worthy experiences. Spending an afternoon walking around a peaceful town should not have felt like such an unbearable inconvenience.
Unfortunately, knowing he was being unreasonable did not magically make him less annoyed.
And, as if his mood could not decline any further, Artoria noticed.
Of course she did.
She had dragged him outside because she wanted him to resolve the loose end with Caitlyn. Adriel claimed he wanted a happy ending for everyone, yet he had spent nearly a month treating Caitlyn like a contagious disease.
Artoria did not know his reasoning.
She knew only that he disliked Caitlyn and had decided that was sufficient justification to ignore her.
From Artoria's perspective, it looked petty.
She moved closer until they walked nearly shoulder to shoulder.
"What exactly are you doing?" she whispered.
Adriel did not look at her.
"Walking."
"You have barely spoken."
"I don't know. Maybe it's because I was dragged away from the shit I was doing."
"I did not drag you."
Adriel finally glanced at her.
"The fuck do you mean, you didn't drag me? What the hell did you do, then?"
"You could have stopped me."
"I know, Artoria. Maybe I didn't want to accidentally hurt a friend."
Artoria exhaled through her nose.
"You are behaving as though we have marched you to an execution."
"I was busy."
"You have done nothing but work since sunrise."
"That sounds productive."
"It sounds unhealthy."
"That sounds like a you problem."
Artoria's eyes narrowed slightly.
Adriel returned his gaze to the road and resumed pretending that the conversation around him did not exist.
Artoria allowed another few seconds to pass.
Then she asked the real question.
"Why do you detest Caitlyn?"
Her voice was no longer quiet enough.
Vi stopped speaking.
Caitlyn's attention snapped toward them.
Adriel slowly turned his head.
Artoria met his stare with the determined expression of someone prepared to pester him until the heat death of the universe.
He looked away again. Something in his mind gnawed at him, making him unable to bear looking directly at Caitlyn.
"I find her annoying."
Vi raised an eyebrow.
Artoria stared at him as though he had confidently answered a complicated equation with random bullshit.
Caitlyn frowned.
"That is your reason?" Artoria asked.
"Mhm."
"You have treated her with open contempt for God knows how long because you find her annoying?"
"Pretty much."
"Adriel."
"What?"
"That is extraordinarily immature."
He shrugged.
"I never claimed to be mature."
Truthfully, he had pulled that reason out of his ass.
He simply wanted to leave.
Caitlyn's frustration finally broke through her practiced composure.
"Is that truly all this has been?"
Adriel looked toward her.
She had stopped walking.
The others followed.
Caitlyn stood in the middle of the path, anger and disbelief pulling against the anxiety in her face.
"You have avoided me at every opportunity," she said. "Whenever I enter a room, you leave. Whenever I offer assistance, you reject it. When I attempt to speak with you, you behave as though listening to me is some unbearable punishment."
Adriel said nothing.
"All this time, I have tried to understand what I did to offend you."
Her voice rose slightly.
"I have offered to help you. I have shown you nothing but respect. I have made every conceivable effort to get on your good side, and you have ignored me because you find me irritating?"
Adriel's mouth twitched.
That phrase caught his attention.
Get on your good side.
Caitlyn continued before recognizing the change in his expression.
"I understand that you are powerful. I understand that everyone here respects you and that this settlement might not have survived without your intervention. But that does not give you the right to treat people as though they are beneath you."
Adriel scoffed.
Then he laughed.
It was not a warm sound.
Vi's posture tightened.
Artoria immediately realized something had gone wrong.
Caitlyn stared at him. "What exactly is funny?"
Adriel slowly shook his head.
"You."
Her expression hardened. "Excuse me?"
"You've been trying to get on my good side?"
"Yes."
"No, you haven't."
Caitlyn blinked.
Adriel finally faced her fully.
"You don't want to be my friend."
"You have no right to decide what I—"
"You want absolution."
The word cut cleanly through her sentence.
Caitlyn fell silent.
Adriel stepped closer.
"You saw what I can do. You saw me move the commune, create things from thin air, shut down armies, and tear apart things you don't even have the language to describe."
His voice remained calm.
Too calm.
"And somewhere inside that head of yours, you decided that if someone like me approved of you, maybe that would prove you were still one of the good ones."
"That is not true."
"Stop with the bullshit."
Something changed in Adriel's eyes.
Caitlyn felt it immediately.
The unsettling sensation that he was not merely looking at her.
He was looking through her.
"You don't know anything about me," she said.
That was the wrong thing to say.
Adriel's smile vanished.
"I know more about you than you know about yourself."
"Adriel," Vi warned.
He ignored her.
"I know what you did after your mother died."
Caitlyn went still.
"I know what grief turned you into. I know how quickly justice became revenge once it was your family bleeding on the floor."
Her jaw tightened.
"You do not get to speak about my mother."
"You used her death as permission."
Caitlyn's face changed.
Adriel kept going.
"You opened the Kiramman archives, found a weapon buried inside the ventilation system, and turned the Grey loose in Zaun."
"We targeted the Chem-Barons and Jinx."
"That's what you told yourself."
"We minimized civilian exposure."
"You filled streets with poison."
His voice sharpened.
"You took the same air Zaunites had been choking on their entire lives and turned it into your personal hunting dog. Then you called it a precise operation because admitting you were gassing the Undercity sounded uglier."
Caitlyn stepped toward him.
"Jinx murdered my mother."
"And that made every pair of lungs between you and her acceptable collateral?"
"I never said that."
"You didn't have to."
Vi moved slightly between them.
"Adriel, back off."
He looked at her.
For one second, something in his expression wavered.
Then Caitlyn spoke again.
"You were not there."
Adriel laughed once more.
"No. I just know every decision you made."
His gaze hardened.
"I know Vi stood beside you while you hunted her sister. I know she put on an Enforcer uniform for you despite everything that badge represented to her."
Vi's face tightened.
"And the second she stopped obeying you, you punished her."
Caitlyn paled.
"Don't," Vi said.
Adriel continued anyway.
"You had a shot on Jinx with a child wrapped around her."
"I would not have missed."
"That wasn't your decision to make."
"I knew the angle."
"And Vi knew what happened when people like you decided Zaunite children were acceptable risks."
Caitlyn's lips parted.
Adriel stepped closer.
"She stopped you, so you drove the butt of your rifle into her stomach and left her there."
Artoria's expression shifted.
Caitlyn glanced toward Vi.
Vi immediately looked away.
"You left her in that tunnel like she was nothing," Adriel said. "Like everything she had sacrificed for you stopped mattering the moment she said no."
"That is not what happened."
"That is exactly what happened."
"I was grieving."
"So was she!"
Adriel's voice finally rose.
The force of it carried across the nearby paths, drawing a few distant glances from the residents.
"You think you were the only person who lost something?"
His hands came out of his pockets.
"You shattered her, Caitlyn."
Vi's head snapped toward him.
"Do not use me to hurt her."
That should have stopped him.
It did not.
Adriel was no longer choosing his words.
They were simply coming out—cruel, sharpened things he had kept buried beneath silence for God knew how long, mixed with several lifetimes of anger that had nothing to do with the woman standing before him.
"You broke her and walked away," he said. "Then, while Vi was drinking herself shitfaced in Zaun and getting her ass beaten bloody because pain was the only thing she could still feel, you found another woman to keep your bed warm."
Caitlyn recoiled as though he had struck her.
Vi's face went red with anger.
"Adriel."
"Maddie adored you," he continued. "That was convenient, wasn't it?"
"Stop," Artoria said.
"She was safe. Loyal. An Enforcer. Someone who looked at you like you were already the woman you desperately wanted to believe you were."
Caitlyn's breathing changed.
"You know nothing about my relationship with Maddie."
"I know you pulled away whenever she touched you for too long."
Caitlyn froze.
"I know you stared at the ceiling after she fell asleep and wondered why being held by her still felt like being alone."
Her face drained of color.
Vi looked sharply toward Caitlyn.
That was not something either of them had known.
Caitlyn's voice became quieter.
"How do you know that?"
Adriel did not answer.
He did not need to.
"I know part of you hated her for not being Vi," he said. "And another part hated Vi because Maddie could never make you forget her."
"Enough," Artoria said more firmly.
Adriel looked at none of them.
"You want to know why I find you annoying?"
His voice lowered again.
"You took everything you claimed to believe in and threw it away the moment those beliefs became inconvenient."
Caitlyn's eyes glistened, but anger kept the tears from falling.
"You let Ambessa put a uniform on your back and authority in your hands. You stood in front of Piltover while a Noxian warlord named you commander, and you accepted."
"I was trying to keep the city from collapsing."
"You imposed martial law."
"There was chaos."
"You made yourself a dictator."
"I never wanted that title."
"But you liked being obeyed."
The accusation landed harder than the others.
Caitlyn stared at him.
Adriel saw the answer in her face.
Only for a moment.
A sliver of shame she had never voiced.
He seized it.
"That's the part you hate admitting, isn't it?"
Caitlyn's lips trembled.
"Not all of it," Adriel said. "But some of it."
"Shut up."
"For once, nobody dismissed you as the sheltered Kiramman girl playing detective. Nobody told you to wait outside. Nobody questioned whether you belonged in the room."
"Shut up."
"They saluted."
"Adriel," Vi warned again.
"And you liked it."
"Shut the fuck up!"
Caitlyn's shout echoed across the street.
Silence followed.
Adriel stared at her.
His heart hammered against his ribs.
Somewhere beneath the rage, a distant part of him knew he had already crossed the line several times.
He knew he should stop.
Instead, he felt Anansi's hands again.
Felt himself falling through the void.
Felt Isha's blood coating his face.
He remembered Artoria calling him self-absorbed.
Remembered the universe he had failed to save.
Remembered every person who had expected him to create a happy ending, as though happiness were a structure he could assemble if he found the proper materials.
Caitlyn had become the only target in front of him that he could actually wound.
So he did, without remorse or consideration.
"You let Ambessa use you because she gave your anger direction," he said.
Caitlyn's chest rose and fell rapidly.
"You knew she was manipulating you."
"I did not—"
"You knew."
His voice was merciless.
"You saw the way she looked at Piltover. You heard the way she spoke about sacrifice. You watched Noxian soldiers fill your streets, and you let it happen because they promised to help you kill Jinx."
"I was protecting my people."
"You were hunting one person."
"She attacked the Council!"
"And you turned two cities into her execution chamber!"
Vi caught Adriel by the arm.
"That's enough."
"Get the fuck off me. I'm not done!"
He pulled free.
Not violently, but fast enough that Vi looked startled.
"You don't get to spend months helping Ambessa tighten her fist around Piltover and then act cleansed because you betrayed her once."
Caitlyn's brows drew together.
"I risked my life helping Vi save Vander."
"Yes. The second Vi came back, you suddenly remembered you had a conscience."
"That is not fair."
"No, it isn't."
Adriel stepped close enough that Caitlyn had to tilt her head upward to hold his gaze.
"Neither was what you did to everyone else."
Artoria moved forward.
"Adriel, this is no longer a conversation."
"It was never a conversation."
He gestured toward Caitlyn.
"This was an intervention because all of you decided my boundaries were inconvenient."
Artoria flinched.
He saw it.
He kept going.
"You dragged me here because apparently I needed to make nice with her. Because God forbid I quietly dislike someone while still fixing half the problems in her fucking life behind her back."
Caitlyn blinked.
"What does that mean?"
Adriel clenched his jaw.
He had nearly said too much.
He redirected the anger instead.
"It means I don't need to like you to help you."
Caitlyn stared at him.
"You're not a monster," Adriel said.
For half a second, she seemed almost relieved.
Then his expression hardened.
"That would be easier."
The relief vanished.
"You're something much more ordinary. You're a person who can do monstrous things while convincing herself that every decision was reasonable."
Caitlyn looked as though she had forgotten how to breathe.
"You had every advantage," Adriel continued. "Education. Money. Authority. A family name powerful enough to open any door in Piltover. You had a woman who loved you despite everything your city did to her."
Vi's hand curled into a fist.
"And the moment pain finally reached you, you became exactly the kind of Piltover bastard you used to swear you weren't."
Caitlyn's eyes filled.
"My mother was murdered."
"And I am sorry."
The sincerity appeared so suddenly that it almost sounded crueler.
"I am genuinely sorry your mother died."
Adriel's voice shook.
"But grief is not a fucking crown, Caitlyn."
His eyes burned.
"It does not make every person beneath you expendable."
A tear slipped down Caitlyn's cheek.
She wiped it away immediately.
"You think I don't know grief?" Adriel asked.
Artoria's breath caught.
He laughed, but the sound frayed at the edges.
"I had a little girl's blood in my mouth not long ago."
Vi went pale.
"I watched her get torn apart while I was close enough to see her reaching for me."
His fists clenched so tightly that his nails pierced his palms.
"I have watched universes die. I have watched everyone I love disappear because I missed one thing, made one wrong choice, or trusted one person I shouldn't have."
The anger in his voice cracked open.
"And do you know what the worst part is?"
Nobody answered.
Adriel pointed at himself.
"I still don't get to use that as permission."
Caitlyn stared at him through wet eyes.
The hypocrisy hung between them.
He was saying it while tearing her apart.
Some part of him recognized that.
It only made him angrier.
"You want me to tell you that you're forgiven because you feel bad?" he asked. "You want the powerful cosmic stranger to pat you on the head and confirm that Caitlyn Kiramman is still a good person?"
"I never asked you to forgive me."
"You've been begging without saying the words."
"That is not why I approached you."
"Then why?"
Caitlyn opened her mouth.
Nothing came.
Adriel smiled bitterly.
"Exactly."
He turned slightly, but the words continued spilling out.
He named things Caitlyn had never told Vi.
The nights she had slept in her mother's study because returning to her own room felt like betrayal.
The number of times she had reread the casualty reports from the Council attack.
The moment she had nearly ordered an Enforcer beaten for questioning her, only to dismiss him instead.
The shameful relief she felt whenever anger became strong enough to drown out grief.
The way she had sometimes looked at Zaun from the bridge and wondered whether peace had ever been anything more than naïveté.
He spoke of every doubt as though it were proof of corruption.
Every mistake became a verdict.
Every private fear became another knife.
Some of what he said was true.
Some of it was only the cruelest possible interpretation of the truth.
By the time his voice finally stopped, nobody knew how long he had been speaking.
It could have been five minutes.
It felt much longer.
The nearby street had gone silent.
Caitlyn stood with her shoulders rigid and tears running freely down her face. She no longer tried to wipe them away.
Vi looked horrified.
Not only by what Adriel knew, but by how willingly he had used it.
Artoria stood completely still.
Adriel's chest heaved.
The rage began draining from him, leaving behind the first clear view of what he had done.
His gaze moved from Caitlyn's face to Vi's.
Then to Artoria's.
The anger disappeared.
His expression twisted.
Oh, shit.
He had not intended to say any of that.
Not like this.
Adriel's mouth opened.
No apology came.
His teeth clenched. Both hands curled into fists at his sides, blood gathering where his nails had broken the skin.
Then he turned and walked away.
"Adriel," Vi called.
He did not stop.
Artoria almost followed him.
Almost.
But one look at the tension in his shoulders told her that pursuing him now would only corner him again.
So she let him go.
Caitlyn remained where she was.
Her thoughts would not settle.
She was furious, humiliated, and horrified.
But beneath all of it was the sickening awareness that Adriel had known things no one else could possibly know.
Vi had warned her.
Adriel knew things.
Far too many things.
Caitlyn had never understood what that meant until now.
He had spoken as though he had been present for every private failure. As though he had read her entire life and marked every page where she had disappointed herself.
The worst part was not that everything he said had been true.
It wasn't.
Some accusations were distorted. Others were deliberately unfair. He had stripped every decision of context and painted her in the ugliest light possible.
The worst part was that enough truth had been buried inside the cruelty for every sentence to find somewhere vulnerable to land.
Caitlyn glanced at Vi.
Vi's expression was unreadable.
That hurt more than anything Adriel had said.
Caitlyn lowered her gaze.
Then she turned and walked away in the opposite direction.
"Cait," Vi called.
She stopped for half a second.
But she did not look back.
Then she continued walking.
Vi remained beside Artoria, staring between the two directions they had gone.
"What the fuck just happened?"
Artoria had no answer.
Guilt pressed heavily against her chest.
She had done this.
Not Adriel's words. Those belonged to him. His pain did not absolve him of the cruelty he had chosen to inflict.
But she had arranged the confrontation.
She had ignored his discomfort, dragged him from the place where he felt safe, and decided that because he claimed to be fine, he must have been ready.
Peter had noticed the cracks.
Ace had noticed them.
Artoria had been so focused on correcting Adriel's behavior that she had failed to consider what was holding that behavior together.
"What have I done?" she whispered.
Vi looked at her.
"I believed him when he said he was fine."
Artoria's voice tightened.
"I knew he was not. I saw it when we arrived. Yet I still forced him into this because I decided resolving their conflict was more important than asking whether he could endure it."
Vi exhaled shakily.
"He still had no right to do that to her."
"No."
Artoria looked toward the path Adriel had taken.
"He did not."
Pain explained the outburst.
It did not excuse it.
But Artoria could no longer look at Adriel and see only the impossible Guardian who could alter reality, defeat armies, and construct towns with a thought.
For a moment, he had not looked powerful at all.
He had looked like a wounded man who had spent too long pretending his injuries were under control.
Vi understood that now too.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she had always thought of Adriel as something approaching omnipotence.
He knew everything.
He could do anything.
Every problem seemed smaller the moment he entered the room.
Even when she joked with him, stole his ice cream, or insulted him to his face, that belief had remained buried underneath it all.
Adriel was the one person who always had an answer.
Until now.
What she had just seen was not a god.
It was a man carrying so many horrors inside himself that one careless push had split him open.
Vi rubbed a hand over her face.
"We fucked up."
Artoria's eyes lowered.
"I did."
"No." Vi looked in the direction Caitlyn had gone. "You started it, sure, but I went along with it. I knew he hated this idea."
Artoria's fingers curled against her palms.
"What should we do?"
Vi remained quiet for a moment.
Part of her wanted to follow Caitlyn.
Another part wanted to find Adriel before he did something stupid.
Neither of them was ready.
"Right now?" Vi said. "We let them breathe."
Artoria nodded slowly.
"And later?"
Vi looked toward Adriel's distant home.
"Later, we talk to him."
Her expression hardened.
"We make sure he's okay."
Then she looked toward the path Caitlyn had taken.
"And we make sure he owns what he just did."
Artoria released a slow breath.
"Yes."
Adriel needed help.
Caitlyn deserved an apology.
Both things could be true.
And once enough time had passed for everyone to stop bleeding, Artoria intended to make certain neither truth was ignored.
To Be Continued...