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It had been too long since Orianna had returned to Zaun. Too long since she had last seen her father. She had sworn that when she had saved him that she could not face him again, he would be too disappointed to see what she had become. That didn’t stop her from keeping an eye on the man. He was frail in his old age but still working and making an honest living for himself. Seeing him walk the streets with his head held high, a deep sadness in his eyes, it made her mechanics whir. If she could feel regret for her decisions she would.
Now, however, she found his shop empty. Techmaturgy parts littered the floor along with broken glass. What had happened? Where was her father? The Ball hummed in confusion as it assessed the scene. Skirmishes weren’t uncommon in Zaun but the last time Orianna had checked, Corin wasn’t on anyone's bad side. He was generally loved by everyone on the underside. He helped those who needed it most, just as he had taught Orianna to do all those years ago. She scoured the shop for any clues as to what could have happened, who could have taken him, and where they went.
The shop seemed so small now. It was eerily quiet even with the dull clicks of the key in her back. The wood flooring creaked under the weight of her metal footsteps. Everything was out of order; papers, machinery, bits, and cogs. She moved to her father's bedroom where everything seemed to be orderly. A clean bed, stacked papers on his desk with a singular, clean envelope placed atop. Orianna’s eyes narrowed as she approached the desk. The Ball hummed a question; who is it from? Her mechanized hand plucked the letter from the desk and carefully opened it. Cerulean eyes dashed across the page, word after word Orianna began to feel her hull heat with anger. Rage. The Ball spun in place as it echoed her emotions. She couldn’t remember how to feel many emotions but she knew hatred. How it could consume and drive just as it was now. Her delicate hand crumpled the letter, the Ball pulsed beside her, sending the room into a dizzying mess.
Orianna willed herself to calm down, to return to her neutral state. Her labored, glitchy breathing slowed being replaced by a soothing hum. It was never smart to get into a heated confrontation. She had to think about this. The letter… Viktor had taken him. The Machine Herald had kidnapped her father in order to understand how he was able to fully augment Orianna. How he was able to make the perfect specimen. The younger man was mad, ever since he was expelled from the Academy... anyone could tell he was a madman. Viktor had written where to find him if she wished to have her father back. Orianna knew better than to trust him so easily, even if he wrote it down. His word meant nothing to her.
But what choice did she have? She couldn’t leave her father to his devices. Corin would do the same for her. She had to come up with a plan. The Ball ticked in agreement and set to work figuring out what would be the best route to take. The probability of failures, the possibilities of success. As it worked Orianna set upon fixing the room. By the time she was finished, they had a solution. She left immediately, set for the House on Emberflit Alley.
Despite what the populace thought of Viktor he was quite the host. Decent, if he would say so himself. Decent meaning he would give his guests food and drink but if they were kidnapped, well, they would be tied to a chair and would not be given anything until they talked. And such was the case with Corin Reveck. The old man had been tight-lipped ever since Viktor had grabbed him from his bed one late night. Viktor had demanded his schematics for Orianna and any notes he had on her augmentation. Corin refused to give the man anything but the basics. The wires digging into his wrists and ankles had already rubbed Corbin’s skin raw. He grunted as he moved against them in protest.
“This would be less painful if you would just tell me how you made her,” Viktor spoke, his mask distorting his voice. Corin scoffed and spat.
“I told you what I know. It isn’t rocket science.” The mustached man rocked against the chair once more to stretch his legs. He didn’t remember how long he had been there but his joints and bones ached. “She knows more than I do. She was always much smarter than me…” he recalled with fondness.
For a moment Viktor regarded him with pity. He had heard of what happened to Orianna but he never understood how. How was this Tinker’s daughter able to fully turn herself into a weapon and being of perfection? In his eyes, she was the definition of the Glorious Evolution. He needed to know the science behind her to truly achieve his goal. No more human error, no more useless needs, no more humanity. Only logic and precise calculations with no need for pointless frivolities.
“You must have misheard me, Mr. Reveck. I just need her schematics. I scoured your shop for them and yet nothing. Where are they?” Viktor stood then and stalked towards him, growing more frustrated with the man. “I even left a note for your daughter, if she were to ever come back. No one has seen her for years now, too busy with the League I suppose… you will tell me everything.”
Corin sighed. There was no way he would win this battle. Either he die without seeing his daughter one more time or he tell Viktor what he knew and pray he wouldn’t turn the rest of humanity into soulless mechanical servants. He would not be humanity’s downfall. The older man held onto hope, that his daughter would come and save him and dispose of Viktor. She was strong enough, he had heard tales of what she was capable of. He was proud of her. If only he knew where she was…
As if on cue, a loud crash was heard from the front door, metal scraping against metal as a door rocketed off its hinges with a mechanical pulse reverberating throughout the building. Ticking echoed in the silence between the two men as the noise grew closer. Viktor turned, grabbed his staff, and aimed it in the direction of the sound. Again, the door to his lab was displaced from its home, sending dust and dirt into the air. The Ball moved into their space, an angry hum heard behind it as Orianna emerged from the settling dust.
“You could have knocked,” Viktor spoke.
“Give me my father back.” Replied Orianna.
Viktor’s orange eyes scanned her, shaping her up. Would she kill him? He knew very well that she could but would she? He believed she wouldn’t hesitate given the chance. He sidestepped behind Corin, propping the staff under the old man’s chin. A threat. Orianna stiffened as she calculated the scene. Sending in The Ball would be a bad decision, she could potentially hurt her father and that was not the ideal route. Instead, she thought of rushing Viktor; catching him off guard and throwing him off his balance, then going in for the kill. There was an 80% chance of success… Orianna was willing to take those odds. However; before she could move, Viktor spoke up.
“Your father tells me you’re smarter than him.”
“I’m smarter than you too, by that logic.”
“Tell me how you became you.”
Orianna froze. What did he mean by that? How she became a killing machine or how this little girl loved her father so much that she gave up her humanity for him? It was a loaded question she was not prepared to answer. Viktor could tell she was thinking hard as her mechanization clicked in an offbeat rhythm.
“Tell me how to recreate the process.”
“You don’t want this.” Her voice chipped.
Viktor’s head tilted in question. She knew better than to tell him something as foolish as that. She knew his goals as well as anyone in Zaun. He laughed, the sound crackling through his mask.
“I’ve always wanted this. Now, tell me or your father won’t return to his shop.”
The Ball hummed angrily at the machine herald’s words. It was ready to fight but Orianna considered her options. She could explain herself and assure her father would live or she could attack Viktor and risk killing her father. That thought alone made her gears stall. She could not risk it.
“Let him go and I’ll stay. I'll tell you what you wish to know.” Orianna conceded.
Viktor’s head twitched in surprise. He suspected she would put up more of a fight, being the weapon that she was. He underestimated how much her father meant to her, which only intrigued him further. How could she still feel an attachment to him when none of the original woman remained behind that cold shell? Was her creation a lie? Did she still harbor some emotion? He did not know, but he would find out.
“Orianna, no, you mustn't…” Corin began, Viktor already releasing him. The older man stumbled forward, legs numb and prickling with static. Orianna moved to catch him, scooping him into her arms just before he fell to hold him close. He was trembling in her arms, something she never thought she would see. He was scared, scared of what might come of the world if she told Viktor what he wanted to know. But most of all he was scared for her. He knew she wasn’t the same as before, the girl he raised and loved was gone but she still had all her memories. Even if she couldn’t feel like she used to. He knew she was still in there and the last thing he wanted was for her to become a pawn in Viktor's game.
“You don't have to do this, you-you have a choice!” Corin’s voice wavered. His hands gripped her forearms, pleading for her to reconsider. “You don’t know what will happen if you tell him, he could turn all of Runeterra into… into-” He became quiet. Hesitantly looking into her cold blue eyes. She understood. For who would want to willingly be like her? Orianna nodded once and then moved to help him stand.
“You don't have to worry about me, father, all will be okay. Trust me.”
“Are you two quite finished with your feelings fest?” Viktor interrupted annoyingly. His hands were placed on his hips as he impatiently observed the two. “Say your goodbyes, come on, we don't have all night.”
Orianna shot him a glare and scowled. She knew he was a difficult man, staying with him would grind her gears worse than she thought. If his insistent nagging did not stop she would find a way to shut him up. He would not compromise the last moments she spent with her father, he would allow her this, she knew. Viktor sighed and turned his back, waving his hand for them to continue their goodbye.
“Don’t do anything rash, alright? You will be safe now and I will be fine.” Orianna reassured Corin. The Ball nuzzled the older man's side as they shared one last parting hug. He nodded hesitantly and made his way to the door, only looking back once to see Orianna steadfast in her decision. He knew his daughter was not a quitter, but also extremely cunning. She had a plan, and for a moment Corin felt confident in her resolution. He left. Orianna turned to Viktor once more, calculating the man before her and his request.
“Now that that’s out of the way, how about we talk, yes?” Viktor offered her a seat at his workbench. She made no attempt to move.
“Speak then.”
Viktor nodded in understanding; of course, she would be hostile. He needed to pick her brain (or whatever was in that metal head of hers) and find out what made her tick.
“Tell me about you,” he began. “I am aware of your condition, but how were you able to replace your own heart? Yes, I know you did it to save you father but scientifically how? I’ve spent days, months, years trying to integrate my being with metal but I was never able to figure out how to do it without killing myself. So tell me, how were you, a sickly dancer from Piltover, able to completely replace your heart?”
Her gears ticked in quiet harmony as she thought. She could lie to him, and cause him to accidentally kill himself during the surgery. She could lie and tell him she had help. She could weave an infinite web of lies in order for him to shut up and leave her father alone. She could. But she wouldn’t.
“You must forgive me. I am having a hard time remembering.” She stepped closer. “I know I have the memories in my drive somewhere, but if you want that information you will have to wait. I trust you understand the difficulty in trying to find old information. Give me time. I will tell you.”
The Machine Herald nodded slowly. Unsure if what she said was true but he had no other choice than to believe her. Her memories, however many she had, must be difficult to wade through, he thought. Her entire brain had been replaced, so he supposed she must need time to find the exact information he was looking for.
“Fine. Take your time but I expect an answer by tomorrow at the latest.” He moved past her, needing a break from her presence. “You’re free to stay in here… there are some rooms upstairs as well. Don’t touch anything.” And with that, he was gone.
The Ball’s mechanics ground together in frustration. The audacity of this guy! It thought. Who does he think he is, commanding us to tell him all of what we did! We won’t actually tell him, Ori… right? It spun to face her then. She sighed and shook her head.
“Maybe. Maybe we won’t have to tell him anything.”