"No red rose on your grave, you poor sucker..."
Atlas hummed to himself as he descended the elevator down into the Sump. Rubbing his sore, bloody nose, he glanced down at an unconscious thug sprawled out across the floor next to him before his gaze shifted further out through the grating toward a thug waiting at the bottom.
"One by one all these bloodhounds keep coming."
The elevator gates opened and a thug rushed him, stabbing at his stomach with a knife. Atlas sidestepped and grabbed his wrist before slamming his forearm behind his elbow joint and snapping it with a sharp crack.
"AGH!" The thug cried out in pain and dropped the knife, catching it in his other hand and swinging diagonally upward despite forcing movement through his broken arm.
Sidestepping around him to stay out of its path, Atlas backed up. The thug, panting, didn't even look as he pivoted and swung blindly down in another diagonal strike in the direction he moved, but Atlas backpedaled further to avoid it before breaking into a run.
"Come back here!" he heard the thug shout but, glancing back, the thug wasn't giving chase as he clutched his broken arm, breathing heavily and staggering in place.
Breathing heavily, Atlas slowed down after gaining some distance. His back was on fire and felt a little wet.
I'm pretty sure I tore my stitches, Atlas thought, wincing in pain.
Looking around, the smog was thicker and heavier surrounding him, pressing in from all sides. It was as if he stood in the middle of a dense fog except accompanied by a burning sensation that tickled his eyes and lungs. Even with the lights from nearby speckled buildings, it was more ominous than comforting.
Atlas sat on a few loosely stacked metal boxes and let out a tired sigh as he looked around. He had no idea what he was going to do or how he'd survive now. All of his tools, equipment, and leftovers his family left behind were out of reach. It wasn't a completely hopeless situation. He had coin to make new beginnings, a few Chemtech flashbangs for emergencies, and some spare odd bits and clothes in his bag, but no direction.
And direction was the most important. Otherwise it was aimless floundering into the mist like he was now.
He sighed again, resting his forearms on his knees while his wounds throbbed painfully. The Sump really wasn't a place he wanted to be. Howling winds against metal created high-pitched whining straight out of a horror movie while the low thrumming of large ventilation systems shook the ground when activated, and a foul stench from factory and Piltover outlets made it hard to breathe.
Yet here he was.
In the safest, most dangerous place in Zaun.
When the cacophony of noises died down, it was hard to tell if people walking in the mist were approaching or passing by. There were many deformed and decrepit Shimmer drug addicts, their bodies misshapen through continuous use. Even their vocals had turned into ghoulish howls of desperation, searching for food and any hint of more Shimmer.
Maybe I should've gone Topside, Atlas questioned grimly. But Sheriff Marcus is in Silco's pocket...
"What a sucker," a voice scoffed, and Atlas's gaze snapped up. "Pushed your luck a little too far around Silco's pet, didn't you?"
Walking toward him in Firelight garb and an owl mask, a young man swaggered forward. While hard to discern, it wasn't too difficult given the unique mask and cadence of his speech to know who was behind it.
"Crawling out of the tunnels to pick a fight?" Atlas asked, a slight irritation pinging in his chest. "Ekko?"
"Damn straight," he scoffed, removing his mask. Ekko was a dark-skinned young man with strikingly white hair and an athletic build. Leaning back, he looked Atlas up and down before gesturing angrily at him. "Why the hell did you beat up my guy?"
Glumly, Atlas gestured vaguely with his hand and rolled his eyes. "He picked a fight in front of my stall."
"You almost got him killed!"
"I stopped Jinx from shooting him."
A silence fell between them, broken only by the distant whining of metal.
"Well that doesn't matter anymore, does it?" Ekko sighed, crossing his arms. "Your nice act with her didn't end well. We stayed away because we hoped something would change. But I guess we were wrong."
"It wasn't her."
"What?" Ekko echoed doubtfully. "So it was Silco?"
With a nod, Ekko's gaze became thoughtful and he began to slowly pace toward him. "He didn't want Jinx getting too soft... and you were getting too close to his possession. Are you sure she didn't have a say in it?"
"I don't think so, but I'm not sure," Atlas said before admitting, "I have no idea what to do right now. Getting in touch with Jinx will be tough, and my family's shop is gone."
"Welcome to the party," Ekko responded evenly. "Nothing will change with Silco in charge. It's about time you stopped deluding yourself and joined our resistance. We can make a difference together... and maybe even save Powder."
Powder.
Atlas's gaze flickered down at the implication Ekko added at the end, his hands flexing slightly.
He wants her back too.
"Are you planning to sleep down here?" Ekko asked, his gaze wandering to a hunched-over, mutated man scrambling off after being noticed. "We've got a safer place if you need to lay low."
"Kicking your guy's ass isn't getting me an ass kicking?" Atlas snorted doubtfully, his gaze meeting Ekko's.
"Oh trust me, he wants payback. But for now it can be held off. Are you in or not?"
It isn't a bad offer. I can use their intel to get close to Jinx and talk with her, Atlas thought, slowly standing up with a pained groan.
Ekko, crossing his arms impatiently, didn't break eye contact even as Atlas looked up into the smog-filled sky.
Maybe even get Vi out of prison, huh? Considering if we succeed there will be no one like Caitlyn sneaking her out.
Finally, Atlas locked eyes with Ekko and outstretched his hand.
"I'm in."