Chapter Text
The fire roared like a monster unleashed—devouring beams, collapsing stone, reducing their childhood home into ruin. The flames clawed into the night sky, casting flickering shadows across the alleyway, turning the falling rain into steam that hissed and danced through the smoke. Blood painted the cobblestones. The air reeked of burning wood, char, and death.
“Violet, please.” Powder's voice cracked, soaked in desperation. “Please don’t leave me!”
Vi’s shoulders shook, not from the cold but from fury—and heartbreak. Her fists trembled at her sides, knuckles already bruised. She had punched her own sister. She had hit Powder. Powder was crumpled on the ground, sobbing so violently it made Vi’s chest seize. Her arm was screaming—something torn, maybe broken—and her leg wasn’t doing much better, dragging with a painful pull down to her ankle. But none of that compared to the pain tearing through her chest.
Powder. Her little sister. Her screw-up of a little sister.
She had destroyed everything.
Vi limped away, not because she wanted to, but because she had to. If she stayed, she'd explode. Either from the grief… or from the rage. The blood trailing from a jagged tear in her leg. Her arm throbbed—dislocated or worse—but none of it compared to the ache in her chest. Her family was dead. Mylo, Claggor, Vander—gone in a single flash. All because of her. Because of Powder.
Powder’s hand caught her wrist, fingers trembling, stained with soot. “VI! Please, please—don’t go! Don’t leave!!” Powder had lunged forward and grabbed her hand, her tiny fingers sticky with dirt and tears. The sudden pull wrenched Vi’s arm, drawing a gasp from her. She spun back, prepared to rip her hand away—but then froze.
Her sister… Powder was a wreck. Mud smeared on her face, blood on her sleeves, tears cutting clear trails through the ash on her cheeks. Her eyes—those wide, terrified eyes—were full of something Vi couldn’t fight.
Pure need.
Vi could still hear Vander’s voice, a whisper buried in memory:
"Protect the family."
Even now, even after all this… Powder was still her sister.
Her body trembled. The cold rain began to soak through her shirt, washing the blood off her knuckles. She wanted to turn back, to say something—anything. Vi turned slowly, her soaked hair clinging to her cheeks. Her voice came out cracked and bitter: “You killed them, Powder. You killed them.”
Powder flinched, and her knees gave out as she collapsed, wailing into the mud.
Vi stepped forward—then paused.
“He’ll kill you if he sees you here. Come on. Let’s go.”
A new voice. A man’s voice. Calm. Sharp. Cold as the night.
Vi’s eyes snapped up. An enforcer emerged from the smoke, stepping over debris with quick, deliberate strides. He wore a golden filtration mask, polished, almost pristine—like he hadn’t just walked through hell. He pulled it down to reveal a pale, young face with a scar on his chin and tired gray eyes. "You’ve gotta be kidding me,” she spat, raising her injured arm despite the pain. “You’re one of them. You work for him"
Powder clung tighter to Vi’s leg.
“Who the hell are you?” Vi hissed, instinctively raising her good arm in defense.
The man didn’t flinch. “Your only chance. We need to move. Now.”
Vi’s mind screamed at her not to trust him. He was an enforcer. A boot of Piltover. One of the very people who let their world rot.
Then his gaze landed on Vander’s corpse.
“...What the hell is that?” he muttered, eyes fixed on the bloated purple veins spreading across Vander’s chest.
Vi followed his look and flinched.
“It’s Vander,” she whispered, throat tightening. Saying his name made it real.
The enforcer paled. He swallowed hard and adjusted his collar. “...We don’t have time.”
Vi looked him up and down, trembling. “You expect me to believe that some enforcer—one of them—grew a conscience?”
“I don’t expect anything,” he said simply. “But you have a choice: come with me and get the hell out of here, or wait until Silco’s men show up and finish what they started.”
Vi looked down. Her sister’s face was hollow, like a ghost. Her eyes weren’t crying anymore—they were just empty.
That was it.
Vi clenched her jaw. No more choices. No more time.
Powder blinked. “W-what?”
“Pick it up. We’re leaving.”
Powder scooped the doll into her arms as Vi grabbed her hand. She didn’t look back. She glanced at Vander’s corpse one last time and whispered, “I’m sorry…” so soft Vi almost didn’t hear it.
They followed the enforcer through the wreckage, down into a dark tunnel hidden behind the debris. The light of the fire disappeared behind them.
Only the darkness remained.
They followed him through a narrow alleyway that led down into an old tunnel system beneath the city. The sounds of fire faded, replaced by the distant rumble of enforcers shouting, sirens wailing, and boots hitting wet cobblestone. The scent of smoke still clung to Vi’s hair, but at least they were away from the chaos.
“How do I know you’re not just gonna sell us out later?” Vi asked, her voice sharp, cutting through the tunnel’s silence.
He glanced back but kept walking. “You don’t. You just have to decide who you hate more: Silco…or me.”
“Easy,” Vi muttered. “I hate both of you.”
“Fair.”
They reached a rusted gate at the end of the tunnel. Murdock paused, checking both directions before opening it slightly. She hated that answer. Hated him. Hated this tunnel. Hated herself. Her fists clenched. She had to believe—for Powder's sake. But if this man made one wrong move, she'd break his face, arm or no arm.
She looked down. Powder’s eyes glowed faintly in the dark—fearful, still clinging to Vi’s hand.
“Vi?” Powder whispered.
“Yeah?”
“Are… are we gonna be okay?”
Vi paused. Her throat burned. The answer came slowly.
“Yeah. We’ll be okay.”
She squeezed her sister’s hand. Even if it’s a lie.
The enforcer up ahead tilted his head, eavesdropping. Vi scowled.
“Right? We're okay?” she pressed.
The enforcer didn’t turn back. “For now.”
They came to a metal gate. The man cracked it open and peeked through, checking for danger. Then he looked back.
“Stay right at my side. Don’t drift. Got it?”
Both sisters nodded.
He removed his mask again. “Let’s move before sunrise. We’ve got a long way to go.”
Vi hesitated—just a second—then stepped through with Powder. Behind them, the gate shut with a heavy clang.
Ahead, the lights of Piltover shimmered across the skyline like stars in a dream they weren’t allowed to have. The roads above bustled with shouting enforcers, distant whistles, and boots slapping cobblestones.
The clean, golden city.
A place that hated them.
“Great,” Vi muttered bitterly.
Still, they walked on—into a city that would never accept them, led by a man Vi couldn’t trust, burdened by grief she couldn’t bury.
But she had Powder’s hand in hers.
And that was the only thing keeping her going.