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Chapter Text

The city was a machine that never stopped grinding. Its gears were oiled by power, corruption, and money—and no name carried more weight in those shadowy corridors than Silco's. His detective agency, simply known as Zaun Investigations, wasn’t just the biggest name in town; it was synonymous with results. Whether a client came from the high towers of Piltover or the grimy depths of Zaun, Silco’s firm promised two things: discretion and success.

Everyone knew the man who ran it—or at least they thought they did. Silco’s sharp features, cold eyes, and cutting voice had become legend. He was a man who wielded control like a weapon, turning even his enemies into pawns on his board. Ruthless yet calculating, controlling the sector with an iron fist in a velvet glove, he didn’t just run Zaun Investigations. He owned it, body and soul. And though his empire was vast, one member of his firm stood out above the rest.

Jinx.

Mention her name in the city, and you’d get a mix of reactions: awe, fear, irritation. Jinx was the kind of detective who thrived on chaos, the kind of person who blew up every rulebook she was handed—sometimes literally. Her exasperated peers said she left destruction in her wake wherever she went, toppling everything from underground smuggling rings to entire businesses, but somehow, it always led to answers. And that was why Silco kept her close. Others may have been unnerved by her unpredictable nature, but he knew exactly how to use it. She was the chaos he could control. Or at least, the chaos he tried to control.

It helped, of course, that Jinx was his daughter. Adopted, yes, but the bond between them was undeniable. Even those who worked in the firm and considered themselves above emotional entanglements whispered about the strange balance between Silco’s icy pragmatism and Jinx’s explosive personality.

The building loomed before Jinx as she strode toward it, her signature smirk already curling at the corner of her lips.

Zaun Investigations wasn’t flashy in the way Piltover businesses were. Its exterior wasn’t sleek or polished, but instead industrial, a towering metal structure that rose defiantly against the sky. Pipes crisscrossed its walls like veins, and a faint green glow emanated from the windows at night, giving the place an almost menacing aura. Inside, the air was thick with the hum of machinery and the clatter of hurried footsteps. It smelled of oil, ink, and ambition.

Jinx pushed through the heavy double doors and into the main hall. The building’s interior was just as intimidating as its outside yet elegant in a mysterious way, reflecting the image of its owner. The main floor was a maze of desks and filing cabinets, each one stacked high with papers detailing every dirty little secret Zaun Investigations had uncovered. Employees bustled about, some whispering over classified files while others furiously typed up reports. Above, a network of catwalks and suspended offices loomed, their glass walls fogged by steam rising from below.

Jinx loved this place. It was alive in a way that nothing else in the city was—a chaotic, breathing organism that mirrored her own frenzied energy. And at the very top of it all, perched like a spider in the center of its web, was Silco’s office.

Her boots thudded against the metal stairs as she made her way up, humming a tune only she could hear. She burst through the door without knocking, the grin on her face as wild as ever.

“You called, boss ?” she chirped, throwing herself into a chair across from Silco’s imposing desk.

Silco looked up from a stack of papers, his expression as unreadable as ever.

“Punctual, as always,” he said, his tone dry.

Jinx stretched out, folding her arms behind her head. “What can I say ? I live to please.”

Silco ignored the quip, sliding a folder across the desk. “I have a case for you.”

Jinx sat up, her eyes gleaming with interest. “What kind of case ? Oh, wait, let me guess. Someone’s missing a cat? A cheating spouse? Ooooh, a smuggling ring, maybe?”

Silco cut her off with a single raised hand. “None of the above. This one comes from Piltover.”

That caught her attention. “Fancy folk, huh ? Must be desperate if they’re coming to us .”

“Desperate is an understatement,” Silco said. “The client is Jayce Talis.”

Jinx whistled low. “The Golden Boy ? This should be fun.”

Silco’s tone turned serious. “This is no joke, Jinx. Viktor, Jayce’s partner, was found dead in his lab three nights ago. The official report claims it was suicide. A note was left at the scene. The authorities closed the case almost immediately.”

Jinx tilted her head, her grin fading slightly. “But Jayce doesn’t buy it.”

“No. He insists Viktor would never take his own life. He wants answers, and he’s willing to pay for them.”

She picked up the folder and flipped it open, scanning the sparse details inside. Viktor’s photograph stared back at her: a pale, gaunt man with sharp features and haunted eyes. The crime scene photos showed a lab in disarray, a single piece of paper lying prominently on the desk. The note.

“Seems pretty clean,” Jinx mused. “Almost too clean.”

“That’s what you’re going to find out,” Silco said. “Jayce has given us access to the lab. Start there. But be careful. The authorities won’t like you poking around.”

Jinx’s grin returned, sharper than ever. “When do they ever ?”

Jinx arrived at Viktor’s lab just as the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the industrial sprawl of Piltover. The building itself was tucked away in a quiet corner, its exterior unassuming save for the faint blue glow of its windows. Inside, however, it was a different story.

The lab was a marvel of engineering, filled with intricate machinery and half-finished projects. The air smelled faintly of ozone and metal, a telltale sign of recent experimentation. Tools were scattered across the workbenches, and the walls were lined with shelves crammed full of blueprints, notes, and prototypes.

Jinx’s eyes roamed over the scene, her mind whirring as she took it all in. The crime scene tape was still in place, but the authorities had already done their sweep and left. She stepped over the tape without hesitation, her boots clicking against the tiled floor.

“Alright, Viktor,” she murmured to herself, scanning the room. “What secrets are you hiding ?”

Her gaze fell on the desk in the center of the room, where the suicide note had been found. The paper was still there, carefully preserved in a plastic evidence bag. Jinx leaned over it, squinting at the neat, precise handwriting. Something about it felt... off. Too perfect. Too deliberate. It also didn't seem to match the scientist's handwriting, although it was very similar.

“No smudges, no scribbles,” she muttered. “Who writes a note like this when they’re about to... you know ?”

She straightened up, turning her attention to the rest of the room. There were no obvious signs of a struggle, but the disarray on the workbenches suggested someone had been in a hurry. Her fingers brushed against a piece of shattered glass on the floor, and she frowned. A broken beaker ? That didn’t fit with the narrative of a quiet suicide.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps behind her. She spun around, her hand instinctively going to the small pistol holstered at her side.

Standing in the doorway was a figure she recognized immediately.

“You’ve got to be kidding me” she said, her tone dripping with disbelief.

Ekko stood there, his arms crossed and a smirk playing on his lips. “Nice to see you too, Jinx.”

Chapter Text

Ekko adjusted his hood as he made his way toward the Firelights’ detective agency, a small but bustling hub of activity tucked into the heart of Piltover’s lower district.

It was a modest structure, but it exuded a kind of warmth that made it stand out from its industrial surroundings. Green ivy climbed the brick walls, softening the edges of the worn building, and the faint glow of green light through the windows gave it an almost ethereal charm. It wasn’t grand or ostentatious, but it didn’t need to be. For Ekko, it was home.

Inside, the air was filled with the faint smell of coffee and old books. The walls were lined with shelves of case files and research journals, interspersed with potted plants that added a touch of life to the space. Each detective had their own small office, but the heart of the building was the communal area—a cozy space with mismatched furniture and a large chalkboard that was constantly covered in notes and diagrams.

The Firelights’ office wasn’t just a workplace—it was a sanctuary for those who had nowhere else to turn. Every case mattered, and every person’s voice was heard.

Ekko pushed the door open, the bell above it chiming softly. He was greeted by the sound of quiet conversation and the shuffle of papers. His fellow detectives, a mix of Zaunites and Piltovians, looked up briefly before returning to their work. The Firelights had no true hierarchy; decisions were made collectively, and everyone contributed their unique strengths. Ekko’s role, however, often placed him at the center of their operations. His knack for innovative thinking and his unshakable dedication to justice had earned him the respect of his peers.

He offered a quick nod before heading toward his office, a small room tucked away at the back of the building.

Before he could get there, a familiar voice called out to him.

“Ekko, my boy !”

He turned to see Professor Heimerdinger, the diminutive yordle standing in the doorway of one of the shared spaces. The professor’s bushy eyebrows were furrowed, his usual cheer dimmed by a heavy sadness. Heimerdinger wasn’t officially part of the Firelights, but he had become something of a mentor to Ekko and the others, offering guidance and sharing his vast knowledge whenever he could after leaving Piltover's Academy.

“Professor,” Ekko greeted, stepping closer. “What brings you here ?”

Heimerdinger adjusted his glasses, his ears drooping slightly. “I bring unfortunate news, I’m afraid. It’s about Viktor.”

The name hit Ekko like a weight. He knew Viktor, if only through reputation and the occasional mention from Heimerdinger. A brilliant scientist, a man who had been on the cusp of changing the world with his innovations. Ekko had always admired his work from a distance, though he had never had the chance to meet him in person.

“What happened ?” Ekko asked, his voice low.

Heimerdinger sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping. “He’s gone, Ekko. Found dead in his lab three nights ago. The authorities have ruled it a suicide.”

Ekko’s brows knitted together in confusion. “Suicide ? Viktor ? That doesn’t make sense. The man was a genius. He was working on things that could change lives.”

“Indeed, that is what makes this tragedy all the more perplexing. Viktor was… he was never one to act impulsively, nor would he abandon the work he was so deeply committed to. Jayce…” Heimerdinger paused, his expression pained. “Jayce is convinced it wasn’t suicide. He’s certain something far more sinister has occurred.”

The professor’s ears drooped further as he continued. “I cannot help but feel regret, Ekko. Regret that I did not take more time to speak with Viktor, to mend our disagreements. Humans, as you know, are such fleeting creatures. Their lives pass in the blink of an eye to someone like me, and yet I always convince myself there will be more time.” He sighed, his voice heavy with guilt. “It is a failing of mine that I did not reach out to him sooner.”

Ekko placed a reassuring hand on Heimerdinger’s shoulder. “Don’t blame yourself, Professor. You couldn’t have known.”

Heimerdinger nodded, though the guilt lingered in his expression. “Jayce came to me, desperate for help. He has already hired another firm—Zaun Investigations,” he said with a hint of distaste. “But I assured him that your skills and those of the Firelights were unparalleled. Will you look into it, Ekko ?”

At the mention of the name, Ekko’s jaw tightened. Zaun Investigations—and more specifically, Jinx. Their paths had crossed before, and not under pleasant circumstances. Jinx’s chaotic methods and penchant for destruction made her a thorn in his side, even if she often got results. She was everything Ekko wasn’t: impulsive, erratic, and unpredictable. The thought of working on the same case as her was... less than ideal.

“Zaun Investigations,” Ekko repeated, a note of dissatisfaction in his voice. “Why am I not surprised ? They’ll probably tear through the evidence like a tornado.”

Heimerdinger tilted his head. “While I understand your apprehension, their involvement may provide a unique perspective. Collaboration, though challenging, could prove beneficial.”

Ekko wasn’t convinced. He’d seen Jinx in action—her version of ‘solving’ a case often left a trail of collateral damage. But this wasn’t about pride or rivalry; it was about Viktor, and about finding the truth. If he had to deal with Jinx to get there, so be it.

However, when he looked at Heimerdinger, saw the hope and desperation in the old professor’s eyes, he nodded. “Yeah, I’ll take it.”

Heimerdinger’s face softened, and he gave a small, grateful smile. “Thank you, Ekko. Viktor’s lab is still sealed off, but I’ve pulled a few strings to get you access. Be careful, though. Whoever—or whatever—did this may not appreciate your investigation.”

Ekko nodded, already reaching for his notebook. “I’ll be careful.”

As Ekko approached the building housing Viktor’s lab, he paused to take in the structure. The exterior was an imposing mix of steel and glass, its cold, polished surfaces reflecting the dull light of the streets. It was starkly utilitarian, with narrow walkways connecting sections of the building like veins, and sharp, angular lines that seemed to discourage loitering.

Ekko stood back, pulling out his notebook and pencil. He began sketching a rough map of the building’s exterior, marking windows, doors, and the flow of foot traffic in and out. He noticed the distinct lack of public entrances, save for a single guarded doorway near the main thoroughfare.

The lab itself was housed on one of the upper floors, and Ekko noted the presence of a reinforced security system. The heavy locks on the doors and the discreet cameras suggested that whatever work was being done here required an elevated level of protection. He scribbled a quick note: Lab is secured. Projects must have been high value.

The atmosphere around the building was eerie. The streets were quieter than usual, and there was a faint hum in the air, the distant hum of machinery intertwined with the faint hiss of pressurized steam, a constant undertone beneath Piltover's bustling streets, Ekko adjusted his jacket, feeling a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature.

As he made his way toward the lab, he climbed a narrow staircase leading to the upper floors. The hallways were dimly lit, lined with doors leading to various workshops and offices. Viktor’s lab was at the end of the corridor, its door sealed with a magnetic lock and surrounded by yellow crime scene tape.

Ekko crouched near the door, examining the locking mechanism. It was high-grade, likely hextech-based. He ran his fingers lightly over the edges of the doorframe, noting the lack of any visible tampering. Whoever had accessed the lab last had done so without leaving a trace. He made another note in his notebook: No sign of forced entry. Was this an inside job ?

Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. The air was heavy with the scent of ozone and metal, and the room was eerily silent. The lab was a maze of machinery and half-finished projects, its walls lined with shelves of blueprints and prototypes. The faint blue glow of calibrated circuits illuminated the space, casting long shadows that danced across the walls.

Ekko’s eyes darted around the room, taking in every detail. A broken beaker on the floor. A scorch mark on one of the workbenches. Blueprints crumpled in a corner. Each element told a story, though none of it made sense just yet.

As he was about to move further into the lab, he heard noise coming form a little further away in the room. He froze, his hand instinctively reaching for the collapsible baton at his side. Approaching slowly, he saw a figure standing near one of the tables, blue twin braids long enough to be unmistakable.

Jinx was hunched over the table, studying a piece of paper with intense focus. She hadn’t noticed him yet, her attention fully consumed by whatever she was reading. Ekko smirked, stepping closer.

“Nice to see you too, Jinx,” he said, his voice breaking the silence.

Jinx straightened abruptly, spinning around to face him. Her wide grin was tinged with annoyance, her eyes narrowing as they locked onto his.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered, her voice dripping with disbelief.

Case File: Viktor - Personal and Professional Investigation

File ID: 5486-ZN-111 Compiled by: Inspector Marcus.T Division: Piltover Enforcers Classification: Confidential

Name: Viktor Date of Birth: [CENSORED] Place of Birth: Zaun

Physical Characteristics:

• Height : [CENSORED]
• Weight : [CENSORED]
• Marital Status : Single
• Distinguishing Features : Lean frame, pale complexion, and sharp, angular facial features. Often seen wearing custom-designed prosthetics to aid mobility.
• Notable Disability : Viktor suffered a severe injury to his leg during his youth, requiring the use of a mechanical brace. Over time, he replaced this with a self-designed prosthetic that has become emblematic of his innovative prowess.

Education History:

• Zaun Primary Learning Institution: Graduated with distinction, showing exceptional aptitude in mechanics and engineering.
• Piltover Academy: Completed advanced studies in Hextech engineering under the mentorship of Professor Heimerdinger. Graduated top of his class in XX.

Professional background:

• Student Assistant to Heimerdinger : Began working under the renowned professor in XX, assisting in Hextech research and development.
• Partnership with Jayce Talis : Officially partnered with Jayce in XX to co-lead groundbreaking Hextech innovations at the Academy of Piltover.

Background Information: Viktor’s early life in Zaun is largely undocumented, reflecting the difficulty of tracing records from the undercity. His leg injury is thought to have occurred during his childhood, likely in a factory accident or being due to a birth defect.This event seems to have been a turning point, fueling his resolve to pursue advancements in technology that could alleviate human suffering. His transition from Zaun to Piltover was facilitated by his extraordinary talents, which earned him a scholarship to the Piltover Academy.

Despite his achievements, Viktor maintained a reserved and enigmatic demeanor. Colleagues described him as intensely driven, often prioritizing his work above all else. His views on the ethical applications of technology occasionally brought him into conflict with his peers, including Professor Heimerdinger and even Jayce Talis.

Professional Contributions : Viktor’s collaboration with Jayce revolutionized Hextech development, enabling practical applications that reshaped the lives of Piltover and, indirectly, parts of Zaun. Notable contributions include :

• Hextech Devices : Innovations that increased the safety and efficiency of labour, reshaping industries.
• Prototype Mechanical Prosthetics : Viktor’s work in this area was informed by personal experience and aimed at providing affordable solutions for individuals with disabilities.

Personal Projects : Several of Viktor’s personal projects remain shrouded in mystery. Internal memos from the Piltover Academy reference confidential experiments conducted in his private lab, which Viktor insisted were necessary for the “future of humanity.” These projects were never fully disclosed, though anecdotal evidence suggests a focus on augmenting the human body with mechanical enhancements.

Partner Relationship: Viktor’s partnership with Jayce Talis was both highly productive and occasionally strained. While they shared a vision for the transformative potential of Hextech, their philosophical differences sometimes led to heated debates. Jayce’s focus on accessibility and commercial viability often clashed with Viktor’s more purist and utilitarian approach.

Circumstances of Death :

• Date: [CENSORED]
• Location: Viktor’s private laboratory, Piltover
• Discovery: Found by his partner, Jayce Talis. A note, interpreted as a suicide note, was found near the body. The note contained vague and fragmented sentences, leaving its authenticity open to debate.

Official Ruling: Suicide, based on the positioning of the body, the note, and no immediate signs of forced entry into the lab. 

Access to Viktor’s personal research has been restricted by order of the Piltover Council.

Inspector Marcus.T
Official Seal of the Piltover Enforcers

Chapter Text

Jinx’s eyes narrowed as she sized up Ekko, standing so casually in the doorway as if he belonged there. Her irritation spiked immediately, every nerve in her body reacting to his infuriating smirk.

She straightened, crossing her arms as her lips curled into a scowl.

“You’ve got to be kidding me” she said, voice dripping with disbelief. “What are you doing here? Did the Firelights finally run out of lost kittens to rescue, or are you just crashing my case because you’re bored ?”

Ekko’s smirk only deepened, the kind that made her want to throw something—preferably sharp and heavy. “Nice to see you too, Jinx. Guess you missed the memo. I’m here on official business.” His gaze swept over the room before landing back on her.

“Jayce Talis made a call. Got the FDA involved. Guess he didn’t believe in Zaun Investigations to do great work without help.”

She let out a sharp, exaggerated laugh, tilting her head. . “The piltie called you ? Joke of the century.” she said, her voice sharp.

Ekko stepped further into the lab, ignoring her biting tone, and shrugged, his calm demeanor only stoking her frustration. “Guess not. He figured two agencies working together might actually get results. Can’t say I blame him. Viktor’s death ? It doesn’t add up. Even you’ve got to see that.”

Her lips curled into a sneer as she crossed her arms. I’m just wondering why no one bothered to tell me we were babysitting Firelights now. Or does FDA protocol include sneaking in uninvited ?”

Ekko raised an eyebrow, unfazed by her sarcasm. “I’m not sneaking. I’m doing my job. Maybe you should try it sometime instead of standing around complaining.”

Her fists clenched at her sides, a sharp retort bubbling up, but she forced it back down. The fact that Jayce had gone behind their backs and called in the FDA stung more than she wanted to admit. Why the hell hadn’t she heard about this sooner ? Her fingers twitched at her side, itching to do something destructive, but she held herself back. Barely.

“Please. You don’t know half of what’s going on here, and I don’t have time to babysit while you pretend to play detective.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy with tension, but Ekko didn’t take the bait. Instead, he shifted his attention to the desk she had been examining when he arrived.

Her eyes followed his, and she felt her irritation spike. “Oh, no you don’t,” she snapped, stepping in front of him. “Don’t think you can just stroll in here and start touching things. This is my case.”

Ekko raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching like he was holding back a laugh. “Your case, huh ? Then maybe you should’ve been quicker, Jinx.” He nodded toward the plastic evidence bag on the desk, the suicide note inside it catching the light. “What’s the deal with this, anyway? It’s... neat. Too neat for a guy like Viktor.”

“Gee, thanks for the insight, genius,” she shot back, her tone laced with sarcasm. “Maybe next you can tell me water’s wet.”

She stepped back, throwing her arms up in exasperation. “Fine. You want to play detective ? Be my guest. Knock yourself out. I’ve got better things to do than babysit you.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and stalked toward the far end of the lab. Her boots clicked sharply against the tiles, the sound echoing in the cavernous space.

Ekko didn’t respond, his attention locked on the note. His fingers brushed the edge of the plastic bag as his eyes scanned the text. Jinx didn’t have to look to know he was piecing together the same thing she had. The handwriting was too clean, too deliberate. It looked like Viktor’s, but it wasn’t.

Jinx’s gaze moved to the workbenches ahead of her, her focus shifting back to the scattered equipment. Broken glass, disorganized blueprints, unfinished projects—it all painted a picture, but the pieces didn’t fit together. Not yet.

She gritted her teeth, her frustration simmering beneath the surface. She didn’t have time for Ekko’s games. Whatever had happened here, it wasn’t suicide. And if Jayce thought calling in the FDA was going to help ? He was dead wrong.

She’d figure it out herself, she didn’t need anyone slowing her down.

Jinx roamed through the lab, her sharp eyes scanning every inch of the space. The broken glass on the floor crunched beneath her boots, a faint reminder of the chaos Viktor had left behind—or maybe someone else had created. She rifled through scattered blueprints and notebooks, her fingers brushing over diagrams and scrawled equations. Hextech schematics. Prosthetic designs. Blueprints for gadgets.

Nothing useful. Nothing that screamed, this is why Viktor died.

Her gaze drifted back to the desk and the evidence bag with the suicide note, that Ekko was now analysing more in details while writing in his notebook. The handwriting, so meticulous, that tried so hard to be like Viktor’s felt unnatural. it could have been printed. She couldn’t shake the feeling that it had been written by someone else. But who ?

Her mind went to Jayce, the first person to find Viktor’s body three days ago. If anyone would know his handwriting well enough to mimic it, it was him. But why ? If Jayce had gone to the trouble of faking a note, why would he push so hard to involve two detective agencies ? Why call Zaun investigation and the Firelights if he wanted this buried ?

“Doesn’t add up,” she muttered to herself, running a hand through her hair. “If he’s hiding something, he’s doing a crap job of it.”

Ekko seemed to ignore her, minding his business. 

She glanced back at the scene, frustration mounting. The timeline gnawed at her. Viktor’s body had been found three days ago, and yet the case had been closed almost immediately. Three days. That’s all it took to decide this was a suicide ? It reeked of someone trying to shut things down fast. Too fast. This and the note, it was already smelling so fishy it wasn’t even hard. 

Jinx’s thoughts were interrupted by the buzz of her phone in her pocket. She pulled it out, squinting at the screen. The name “Ogre” flashed at the top—a nickname she’d given Sevika years ago, equal parts insult and affection.

With a swipe of her thumb, she opened the message Attachment : Case File- Viktor

Jinx arched a brow, her curiosity piqued. Always so quick on the job. She opened the document, her eyes scanning the contents quickly. Viktor’s personal and professional history sprawled out before her, neatly compiled by Inspector…Marcus.

Her fingers tightened on the phone as she read. The official ruling was there in black and white : suicide. The note found near the body. No signs of forced entry. And yet…

“Leaving its authenticity open to debate.”

She read the line twice, her pulse quickening. Even Marcus had doubts, and he’d still signed off on this as a suicide ? Why ? Her eyes narrowed, a bitter taste rising in her mouth. Someone wanted this case closed, and they wanted it closed fast. 

Her gaze flicked back to the lab, her mind racing. If the note was fake, someone had gone to the trouble of crafting it—and whoever that was had access to Viktor’s lab before Jayce came, or at least during the short time the enforcers took to come into the lab and started taking evidence. But why fake a note ? Such a reckless thing to do.

Was there even an autopsy ? The note must have prevented it, despite doubts about its authenticity given the speed with which the case was closed. Those behind the investigation were determined to rule it a suicide. As he had no family, he would no doubt be cremated. An autopsy was absolutely essential. She quickly sent a message to Sevika “Want an autopsy.” 

The pros of being in a company as influential as Zaun Investigation were really its means. The FDA would have nothing even if they begged the world. Silco was powerful, influential. She was powerful, her name had a weight. Knowing that Ekko probably wouldn't even have access to the file for quite some time made her smile softly. She'd be done with this business before he'd even started, she'd make him swallow his smile. 

She looked around again.The lab felt suffocating now, its cold walls holding secrets she couldn’t quite crack. His presence really didn’t help. She felt watched over, though she couldn't care less about him and what he was thinking in that pretty little head. 

Jinx’s grip on her phone tightened. The case itself was obvious, but the fact that someone had manipulated it, that was interesting. She was going to find out who. Whether it was Jayce, some random Piltie, or someone else entirely, they’d made a mistake thinking she wouldn’t dig deeper.

Turning back to the mess in the lab, she muttered under her breath. “Alright, Viktor. If you didn’t write that note, who did? And why the hell would Marcus sign off on this if he knew something didn’t add up ?”

She glanced over her shoulder to where Ekko stood, still fixated on the note in the evidence bag. Her jaw clenched. As much as she hated the idea, maybe two pairs of eyes weren’t such a bad thing.

For now, though, she’d keep her suspicions to herself.

Though Ekko seemed to want to interact with her more than she'd expected. 

"Lots to say to yourself, because you don't have any friends or is that just your insanity ?" 

She widened her eyes slightly, her eyebrows raised, surprised by this childish remark rather than offended, chuckling softly. 

"Stop it, you're going to make me cry.”

He looked around nonchalantly, before walking to stand in front of her, arms crossed. 

" Care to share what your dirty business has procured for you ? " He was holding his notebook, a small smirk on his face, though the seriousness behind his question was prescribable. 

"Don't know what you're talking about. And they say I'm crazy. " She shrugged, though inwardly jubilant at his helplessness. 

“I know Zaun Investigations has contacts. I despise that you're playing dirty tricks to get everything, but if the damage is done, I might as well enjoy them.” 

“You’re talking like we’re criminals.” 

“Don’t play innocent with me, like Silco’s clean.”

At the mention of her father, her gaze darkened, his light tone becoming more threatening as the atmosphere grew heavier. 

“I don't think that's how you ask for favors, Little man. Or is it because you usually let your colleagues do the shitwork for you ? Funny how you forgot to say please when you’re from an agency full of beggars.” 

Jinx's smile widened as Ekko's disappeared, replaced by a tense expression. His eyebrows were furrowed, and his fists clenched so tightly that the poor notebook he was holding trembled slightly under the pressure. Bringing his face close to Jinx's, he never took his eyes off her, deep brown almost black against violet blue. She really had a talent to piss people, getting under his skin so fast he was surprised he couldn't maintain his calm demeanor. How could he, when she insulted everything they had build like she was so better than them.

"I dare you to fucking say that again.”  

Chapter Text

Jinx’s grin didn’t waver as Ekko leaned in, his face mere inches from hers. She could feel the heat radiating off him, the anger simmering behind those dark eyes. For a moment, the lab seemed too small for both of them, the tension thick enough to choke on.

“Oh, what’s the matter, Little Man?” she purred, her voice lilting with mockery. “Can’t handle the truth ? Or is it the part where you realize I’m right that’s got you so worked up ?”

Ekko’s jaw tightened, his lips pressing into a thin line. “You’re so full of shit, you know that ?”

Jinx tilted her head, feigning innocence. “Am I? Because last I checked, you’re the one throwing accusations around like candy. Makes me think you’re compensating for something.” Her gaze flicked downward briefly, her grin turning wicked.

“You’re insufferable,” he growled.

“And you’re predictable,” she shot back. “Always trying so hard to play the hero. It’s cute, really.”

Her words stung, and she could see it in the way his eyes flickered with something deeper than anger. She hated how intense he looked when he was pissed—how those dark eyes burned with a mix of fury and determination. It made her stomach flip, and she loathed every second of it.

“Maybe if you actually knew how to work with people instead of running your mouth, you’d get somewhere,” Ekko snapped, his voice low and rough.

“Funny to hear that from you when you’re in an agency nobody’s heard of” she quipped, her smirk widening as she leaned against the edge of the desk. 

His grip tightened around the notebook before he exhaled sharply, trying to stay calm. Heimerdinger needed him to work on that case, an innocent was certainly a victim of a conspiracy. He forced himself to speak in a more composed tone.

“Jinx, stop playing games. I’m not leaving without Viktor’s file.”

For a moment, it seemed like she wouldn’t respond. There seemed to be something going on in her head, like she was deep in thought. After a few seconds, her eyes gleaming with that same infuriating mischief that made his blood boil, she responded with a voice almost childish, dripping with mockery. 

“Let's imagine I have it, why would I hand that over to you ? What’s in it for me ?”

“You mean besides the satisfaction of doing the right thing for once ?” Ekko shot back, his tone dry.

Jinx snorted, crossing her arms. “Please. ‘The right thing’ doesn’t pay the bills, Little Man. If you want it so bad, maybe try asking nicely. Batting some eyelashes with pitiful eyes with a face like yours works wonders.”

“So you do like my face after all huh ?” Ekko’s crisped face from earlier soon disappeared, a cocky grin forming on his lips as Jinx's smile faded, replaced by a cold glare. She understood immediately what he was referring to, as her mind involuntarily flashed back to this moment, the first time they’d crossed paths.

That was two years ago. She'd been put on a rather minor case, but it involved someone who knew too much. A former employee of Chross's company, a big name in Zaun. In fact, it was he who had commissioned them to investigate, desperate to find the guy to "chat " with him. 

Because of the importance of their employer to the case, it was she who had been given the task of finding him, as annoying as it was. So for a week, she waited every night in a bar he frequented, huffing and puffing. If the first night she'd been busy analyzing the place, now that all she had to do was wait, boredom had taken hold of her, making her bitter. If the bar had the kind of ambiance Jinx liked, being there for a week each night for work -not even an interesting one just a small fry- was starting to piss her. The loud music, neon flashing lights scent of spilled beer mingled with the metallic tang of smoke and shady atmosphere were becoming too familiar, and if she had absolute faith that he would come there at some point, patience wasn’t really her strong suit. Soon enough, she had moved upstairs, where it was quieter. The vantage point gave her a decent view of both the bar below and the staircase leading to the underground section.

She finally spotted him. Her target. Downstairs. She could’ve gone right after him, sure, but barging in without a plan wasn’t her style—not when subtlety could be more fun. And tonight had just gotten way more fun.

He had walked in just a moment ago : handsome, moving with a kind of effortless cool that made her want to look twice. The white streak in his hair was intriguing, Jinx felt an inexplicable pull. He didn’t blend into the crowd, looking around like he was searching for something. 

When he went upstairs, a surprising choice as it was much less busy than downstairs, a grin spread across her lips. 

Hello, trouble. This was shaping up to be more fun than she’d anticipated. A hot guy and her target ? The universe was spoiling her tonight. He hadn’t noticed her yet, too focused on scanning the crowd. He sat at the counter. Jinx’s grin widened. Perfect

She adjusted her cropped leather jacket and decided to test the waters. She slid her way down to the bar, her hips swaying just enough to draw attention. Sure enough, his gaze flicked her way, lingering for a moment before moving on. Interesting. She timed her steps perfectly, brushing past him as she reached the counter.

“Sorry” she murmured, her tone light and unapologetic as she took a seat.

He turned slightly, his gaze catching hers. His eyes were dark and sharp, and when they locked with hers, something flickered in his expression—curiosity, maybe even intrigue.

“No worries” he said, his voice smooth and low.

Jinx let the moment hang, playing coy as she pretended to examine the cocktail menu.

“You don’t seem like the regular type for a place like this” he added after a beat, sliding into the seat next to her.

She arched an eyebrow, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. “Funny, I was about to say the same about you. What’s your excuse ?”

His lips curved into a small smile. “Looking for someone. You ?”

“Maybe I’m just here for the drinks,” she replied with a shrug, though her smirk betrayed her amusement.

“Must be one hell of a drink to drag you all the way up here” he said, leaning slightly closer.

She laughed softly, leaning back just enough to keep him guessing. “What can I say ? I like the view.”

They bantered like that for a while, each pushing and pulling, testing boundaries without giving too much away. Jinx found herself almost forgetting about her target—almost. Until she saw movement. Her mark was headed towards a more hidden corner of the bar below, which she could no longer watch from where she was.

She straightened slightly, catching the guy’s eye as she stood. “Still, looks like the real party’s downstairs.”

“Mind if I join you ?” he asked smoothly, standing as well.

Lucky me, she thought, masking her excitement with a casual shrug. “Suit yourself.”

As they descended into the dimly lit underground area, Jinx’s focus shifted. Her target was here somewhere, and she needed to find him, a normal looking guy in a perfect place for shady deals—and even better for blending in.  But the real problem was the one next to her—he was distracting, in the best and worst way.

They moved through the room, each pretending not to notice how the other kept glancing over. Jinx tried to keep her head in the game, but every time he brushed past her or leaned in to whisper something sarcastic, her heart skipped a beat.

And then it happened.

They were standing close, too close, and when their eyes met again, the tension snapped. He leaned in first, and she didn’t stop him. Their lips met in a kiss that was surprisingly heated, their earlier banter fueling the moment. Jinx’s hand slid up to his chest, her fingers brushing against the fabric of his jacket. For a brief, blissful second, everything else faded away.

Until the loud sound of a phone ringing cut through the haze.

Her target’s phone. Their target's phone.

Jinx’s eyes flew open as the man answered the call, his eyes met those of the bluenette and she saw him realise who he had right in front of him, only a few meters away. His eyes widened in horror and before she had time to react, he was on the run, rushing out of the bar, disappearing.

“Shit,” she muttered, pulling back from the kiss and shoving past the guy—Ekko.

Ekko looked equally startled, his lips parted as he watched her dart after the target. He hesitated for only a moment before following her.

They burst out of the bar into the cool night air, but the street was empty. No sign of her mark.

Jinx let out a frustrated growl, kicking a nearby trash can. It clattered noisily against the wall, startling a stray cat.

“You wanna explain what that was about ?” Ekko asked, his tone sharp but curious. He stood a few paces away, watching her with narrowed eyes.

She shot him a glare. “I could ask you the same thing”

He stepped closer, his posture tense but not aggressive. “Who are you ?”

She crossed her arms, her lips curling into a defiant smirk. “Funny, I was just about to ask you that.”

Now that they were no longer under the lights of the bar, Ekko had a realization. Blue hair, two long braids, smoke-shaped tattoos. Only one person matches this description. He was too lost in the sound of her laugh, the burgundy of her lips, and her shining eyes to look at the image in his entirety. Or perhaps he had deliberately avoided asking himself the question, even when his gaze had wandered over her curves so well marked by her tattoos.

“Zaun Investigations,” he muttered, the name dripping with disdain. Jinx.

Jinx tilted her head, her smirk unwavering despite the sudden edge in his tone. “ The one and only. Well, I see my reputation precedes me.Thought you’d be impressed I work for the big leagues.”

“Impressed ?” Ekko scoffed, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “You mean the same big league that bulldozes through cases without a care for anyone else ? The ones who think rules are optional as long as the paycheck clears ?”

Her smirk faltered, her expression sharpening as she took a step closer. “Oh, so that’s what this is about. Let me guess—Firelights Detective Agency, right ? That ragtag group of underdogs too proud to actually get shit done ?”

The jab hit its mark, and Ekko’s jaw tightened. “At least we don’t screw up operations just to show off. What the hell were you doing back there ? Letting the Cross's guy slip away so you could play spy games with me ?”

Jinx’s eyebrows shot up, her hands planting firmly on her hips. “Excuse me ? I was following the target just fine, my target, until you showed up with your pretty-boy act and started playing James Bond.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault now ?” Ekko snapped, his voice rising. “You’re the one who couldn’t keep her head in the game. Or are you gonna tell me Zaun Investigations trained you to flirt and get wasted during work ?”

At his comment, she pieced it together instantly—they were chasing the same man. Different handlers, same game. Typical. She stepped closer, her face mere inches from his, violet-blue eyes sparking with defiance.

“Careful, Little Man. You're starting to sound like you messed this up on purpose. What, jealous we got the better pay and you’re stuck chasing scraps ?”

Ekko’s eyes narrowed, her accusation hitting home. “Jealous ? Of you ? Don’t flatter yourself. All you’ve proven is why Zaun Investigations can’t be trusted. Bet if you caught him, you’d hand-deliver him to some slimy client who’d gut him before sunrise. Don’t act like you’ve got the moral high ground.”

Jinx’s expression shifted, suspicion flickering behind her smirk. She crossed her arms, leaning back just enough to size him up.

“Admit it. You wanted this to blow up in my face, didn’t you? Make me look bad so your little agency can swoop in and take the credit.”

He scoffed, but there was a flicker of hesitation—just enough for her to latch onto. “Believe it or not, not everything revolves around you.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” she shot back, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Newsflash : playing the almighty hero while screwing me over ? Not a good look, flyboy.”

Ekko took a step back, dragging a hand through his hair as his glare deepened. “And yet, somehow, I’m still better at this than you.”

“Big talk for someone with a face like a shimmer-mutated rat—crooked, twitchy, and all kinds of nope,” she quipped, her grin sharp and unrepentant.

“And who kissed the shimmer-mutated rat sooo convincingly they forgot their own target ?” he fired back, his smirk returning.

Jinx opened her mouth for another retort, but before she could fire it off, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She huffed, pulling it out and glancing at the screen. It was Sevika.

“Ugh, perfect timing,” she muttered, already turning on her heel. She didn’t bother giving Ekko another look as she walked away, raising the phone to her ear.

Ekko stood there for a moment, watching her go. His anger simmered just beneath the surface, but there was something else, too—an irritating flicker of curiosity he couldn’t quite shake.

The memory hit her like a punch to the gut, and Jinx scowled, shaking her head as she returned to the present. Her voice full of confidence and mockery, her grin returned.  “Still bitter about that night ? Guess I really had an effect on you”.

He hated how her confidence got under his skin, how her sharp tongue and wicked grin made his heart race when he wanted to be furious.

“Being called a shimmer-mutated rat is quite inventive. I'll give you that.”

And Jinx hated the way his steady gaze made her stomach twist, how the heat rolling off him made her want to lean in instead of step back.

She broke the moment with a sharp laugh. “Anyway, whatever. You’re not worth the energy.”

Ekko exhaled, his jaw still tight as he watched her in the eyes. “Feeling’s mutual.”

But neither of them believed it. 

After a staring battle, Jinx sighed, glanced at the screen of her phone, before opening the message from Sevika. Attached to it was the file Ekko was after. Ekko stepped closer, his eyes flicking to the screen. 

“That’s it. Let me see.”

She turned, holding the phone just out of his reach, her grin widening as his irritation grew. “Ah, ah, ah. I didn’t say you could.”

“Jinx,” he warned, his tone dark.

Her grin returned, wider than ever. “Relax, Little Man. I’ll let you look. But you owe me.”

Ekko’s eyes narrowed,suspicion flickering beneath his steady glare. “Owe you what ?”

“I’ll think of something” she replied breezily, spinning the phone in her hand before tossing it toward him. He snatched it mid-air with a scowl, his gaze flicking from her triumphant expression to the screen. His jaw tightened, but he said nothing, his focus shifting entirely to whatever lay before him.

As Ekko scanned the file, his expression hardened. “Inspector Marcus had doubts about the note” he muttered. “If even the inspector thought it was fake, why close the case so fast ?”

Jinx leaned against a nearby table, arms crossed, her gaze sharp. “Maybe the Piltover Enforcers don’t like loose ends. Or maybe someone upstairs didn’t like the idea of it staying open. Viktor wasn’t exactly Mr. Popular in Piltover politics. His ideas probably scared half the council out of their silk chairs.”

“Or” Ekko countered, his voice grim, “maybe someone didn’t want this investigated. Ideas scaring them enough to stage his death ?”

She tilted her head, her curiosity piqued by the edge in his tone. His question hung in the air, and for once, his voice lacked the usual bite. “What do you think ?” he asked, softer this time.

Jinx hesitated, the playful mask she wore so effortlessly cracking at the edges. For a fleeting moment, she considered tossing out a quip to deflect, but something in his expression stopped her. So, he actually wants my opinion, huh ?

“Maybe” she said slowly. “Or maybe someone closer to him had a reason. You think Jayce is squeaky clean ?”

Ekko frowned, his eyes narrowing. “He’s the one who hired you, right ? Why would he come to you if he was involved ?”

“Exactly,” Jinx replied, tapping a finger against her temple, the faintest glimmer of amusement returning. “Doesn’t add up, does it ? If he wanted to cover his tracks, why bring me in ? Unless…” She let the word linger, enjoying the flicker of realization in Ekko’s expression. “...he thinks someone else is pulling the strings. A big fish.”

Ekko glanced back at the lab, his gaze lingering on the scattered papers. “Who else had access to Viktor’s private projects ?”

“Good question” Jinx said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. “But whoever they are, they went through a lot of trouble to tie this up with a neat little bow. That fake note ? Too perfect. Nobody’s that clean—not a tortured scientist like Viktor.”

Ekko’s lips thinned, the weight of her words sinking in. “So, whoever wrote that note…”

“...is the one behind it.” Jinx finished, her violet-blue eyes glinting with dangerous determination. She pushed herself off the table, her smirk sharpening. “And too bad for them, ‘neat little bows’ just piss me off. I hate being told what to do.”

Ekko’s lips twitched into a small, reluctant smirk. “Finally, something we agree on.”

“Don’t get used to it” she snapped, though her tone lacked venom.

“Wouldn’t dream of it” he replied, turning his attention back to the file.

After reading it entirely, Ekko nodded, his brow furrowing as he pieced things together. “ We need to dig deeper. This file isn’t enough.”

Jinx’s grin returned, sharper now. “We ? Oh, no. You don’t get to buddy up with me just because you finally caught up.”

“Fine” he shot back, his tone clipped. “I’ll dig. You can stay here and play detective Barbie if that’s what you’re into.”

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Careful, Little Man. You’re starting to sound like you’re asking for another favor.”

“And you’re starting to sound like you care” he retorted, stepping closer.

They were face-to-face again, the air between them charged with tension. Jinx’s smirk faltered, but she didn’t step back.

“Watch it” she warned, her voice low.

“Or what ?” he challenged, his gaze unwavering.

For a long moment, neither moved, the only sound in the room the hum of the lab’s equipment. Then Jinx took a step back, her expression unreadable.

“You want to waste your time chasing ghosts ? Be my guest,” she said, tossing her phone onto the desk. “Just don’t come crying to me when you hit a dead end.”

Ekko picked up the phone before handing it to her, his eyes flicking to hers. “Thanks for the file,” he said, his voice softer now. “Even if you won’t admit it, you’re helping.”

“Helping myself” she corrected, grabbing it, spinning on her heel. “Suit yourself looking for something worth it in this lab. There is nothing. “

She winked at him as she sauntered out of the room, her laughter echoing in the air. Ekko watched her go, his frustration mingling with something else—something he refused to name.

Ekko lingered in the lab a moment longer after Jinx left. Earlier he transferred the file Jinx showed him to his own device, and after reading it without the bluenette sharpy comments, his mind filled with questions, especially about Marcus, the name turning over and over in his mind as he exited the lab. It felt familiar, like a half-remembered tune he couldn’t quite place. As he walked back toward the Firelights Detective Agency, his thoughts spiraled. Marcus was tied to Piltover’s Enforcers, that much he knew. Hadn’t there been whispers of him involved in some less-than-legal dealings ? Ekko frowned, filing the thought away for later. The man’s name being on the file couldn’t be a coincidence, and if there was even a chance he had answers, Ekko would find them.

The FDA building loomed ahead, its sign half-lit and the paint on the door chipped. He pushed it open, already forming a plan for his next steps.

Whatever secrets Viktor’s death held, he knew one thing for sure: working with Jinx was going to be hell.

But for now, the uneasy truce between them held. But neither of them was under any illusion—it wouldn’t last long.

Chapter Text

Ekko pushed through the battered door of the Firelights Detective Agency, his mind a whirlwind of questions. The dimly lit office greeted him, the smell of old paper and faint traces of oil lingering in the air. He dropped his bag onto the desk, pulled out his phone, and brought up the file Jinx had shown him -he transferred it to his own phone discreetly-. The glowing screen painted his face in harsh light as he scrolled through the report, his frown deepening. He decided to print it. 

Marcus. The name gnawed at his thoughts. It was a puzzle piece that didn’t quite fit—a name tied to Piltover’s Enforcers, now buried in Viktor’s file. He leaned back, rubbing his temples as the office door creaked open.

“Still digging, huh ?” a low voice drawled.

Ekko turned to see Scar, one of his most reliable friend and colleague at the Firelights, standing in the doorway. Tall and wiry, Scar’s sharp eyes always seemed to miss nothing, and the faint scars lining his face hinted at a life lived on the edge. He stepped inside, hands tucked into his coat pockets.

“You’ve been up here too long,” Scar said, nodding toward the screen. “What’s got you hooked ?”

Ekko hesitated before turning the device toward him. “Viktor’s file. Jinx showed me this earlier.”

Scar raised an eyebrow, moving closer to get a better look as he smirked. “Didn’t know you two were playing nice.”

“We’re not ” Ekko replied flatly. “She’s got her reasons, and I’ve got mine. But this ?” He pointed at Marcus’s name on the file. “It’s a lead. Or it might be.”

Scar leaned over, studying the name with a quiet hum. “Marcus. The name does ring a bell. Isn’t he quite the famous guy up there ?”

“Yeah” Ekko said. “But I've heard rumors down here about him being in bed with some shady deals. Nothing solid, but it’s enough to make me wonder why his name and not another one. Not like they don’t have a lot of enforcers.”

Scar scratched his chin thoughtfully. “It could be a lead as it could be nothing important. We know the guy’s fishy because we’re Zaunites, but for topsiders he's a high ranked enforcer.” 

Ekko shook his head. “I don’t know. But if Marcus is involved, he’s not working alone. Someone higher up had to pull the strings.”

Scar tilted his head, considering. “You think it’s Piltover politics ?”

“Maybe” Ekko replied, his tone grim. “Or maybe it’s someone closer to Viktor. Someone who didn’t want his work to see the light of day.”

Scar’s lips twitched into a humorless smile. “This city’s a cesspool, Ekko. A dangerous one. You dig deep enough, you’re bound to hit something rotten.”

“Then I’ll keep digging ” Ekko said, his voice resolute.

“You don’t know what you’re getting into. Marcus ? He’s good at ignoring things, ‘specially if they come with a paycheck. A big one. Piltover’s politics are no joke”

Ekko considered this. “So you agree, if someone wanted this case buried, Marcus would’ve been an easy choice.”

Scar shrugged “Marcus doesn't give a damn about justice. He cares about what keeps his pockets lined and his head attached. Whoever pulled those strings you probably don’t wanna meet them.”

Ekko’s eyes narrowed, too lost in his thoughts to pay attention to the warning behind Scar’s words. “So Marcus being the one closing this case could be worth looking into, especially with all these rumours about him.”

Scar studied him for a moment, sighing as he realized that nothing would make his stubborn friend back down. “Alright. I got it, you're not gonna drop this. But be careful so you don’t get yourself killed. The Firelights can’t afford to lose their best detective.”

If the last comment was meant to be half playful, the words hung in the air, heavy with implication. Ekko stayed silent, his thoughts churning, a faint smile forming on his lips because of Scar’s concern.

“Think you can find anything on Marcus ? Like real dirt on him, not rumors. So if this lead is a trap I can prepare.”

Scar nodded, heading for the door. “I’ll see what I can find. While I do that, watch your back. If Marcus' presence isn’t insignificant and it becomes obvious that you're digging too hard, you could soon find yourself with a target on your back.”

“Thanks, I will be careful.”

Scar gave him a small smile before leaving him, and as Ekko watched him go, his mind already spinned with endless possibilities.

Jinx, phone still in her hand as she exited the building, deciding after some hesitation to press on Sevika’s contact. She started marching down the dimly lit streets of Piltover as she waited. The city’s polished facade didn’t intimidate her, she’d walked these streets enough times to know their cracks, both literal and figurative. She hated all these buildings that only paraded wealth of Piltie that lived in a little fantasy while Zaun, -her home- was barely holding it together.

The line clicked, and Sevika’s gruff voice answered. “What now, Powder ?”

“Don’t call me that,” Jinx snapped, rolling her eyes. “Listen, I need you to dig into Jayce Talis for me. Nothing too deep—just enough to see if he’s been hiding something from us. Meetings, associates, whispers. You know, the usual shady councilman stuff.”

There was a pause on the other end. “Jayce ? Thought he was the one who hired us ?”

“He is” Jinx said, stepping off the main street and cutting through an alley. “But something about him feels off. He’s too clean in all this, and I don’t trust clean. Besides, if he’s hiding something, I want to be the first to know.”

“You’re paranoid ” Sevika muttered, but Jinx could hear the sound of papers shuffling in the background. “I’ll see what I can find. Don’t expect miracles.”

“Miracles are boring anyway ” Jinx quipped, ending the call without waiting for a response.

She slipped the phone back into her pocket and crossed into the less glamorous streets of Zaun. Here the streets, although much less maintained, had charm and character. The change in atmosphere was immediate: the air heavier, the buildings shabbier, the people less inclined to make eye contact. But it was home, in its grimy, chaotic way. Jinx darted through the labyrinthine streets, her mind buzzing with questions about Viktor’s death, the fake note, and Ekko’s incessant determination.

Jinx’s boots clicked against the cracked pavement as she approached Zaun Investigation’s headquarters. Her thoughts were already moving faster than her feet, trying to piece together the puzzle Viktor had left behind. As she neared the entrance, she passed a man leaning casually against the wall. Broad-shouldered, with a grizzled beard and a sharp, calculating gaze, he barely glanced at her, though there was an air of quiet authority about him. Jinx didn’t spare him a second glance as she pushed open the door to Zaun Investigation, but something about him stuck in her mind—a ghost of recognition she couldn’t quite place.

Inside, the building buzzed with activity despite the advanced hour, and Jinx felt the familiar rush of being back in her element.  She pushed open the heavy steel doors to Silco’s office, the guards stepping aside without so much as a glance. Silco was at his desk, as always, the dim light casting sharp shadows across his face as he examined a set of documents. The familiar scent of cigar smoke and damp stone filled the air, and she instantly felt a strange mix of comfort and tension. 

He looked up at her entrance, his mismatched eyes narrowing briefly before softening.

“Jinx” he greeted, his voice smooth but weighted.

“Hey Dad” she replied, her tone lighter than she felt.

Silco gestured to the chair opposite him, but she ignored it, leaning casually against the desk, arms crossed. “I need to ask you something.”

His head tilted slightly, curiosity flickering across his face. “Go on.”

“Viktor,” she said, watching him carefully. “You ever heard anything about him before… y’know ?”

Silco’s fingers steepled as he considered her question. “Viktor…” he murmured, as if tasting the name. “The inventor. Brilliant, but flawed—like most who live for their work. A man who lived in the clouds, yet tethered to the ground by his own frailty.”

Jinx huffed. “So… that’s a no ?”

Silco’s lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. “Not quite. Men like Viktor attract attention without meaning to, simply because they dare to think beyond the limits of others.” His tone darkened slightly. “That kind of vision frightens people, Jinx. It inspires jealousy… and desperation.”

Jinx’s eyes narrowed. “Anyone in particular you think would’ve been desperate enough to, I dunno, stage his death ?”

Silco leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady but inscrutable. “Desperation takes many forms. For some, it’s an attempt to control what they fear. For others…” His voice lowered, silkily deliberate. “…it’s an act of survival.”

Jinx stared at him, trying to read between the lines. Talking to him was always so philosophical that it made her head spin -when she listened to him at least- “What about Marcus ?” she asked suddenly, watching for any flicker of a reaction. “You’ve mentioned him before, right ? Piltover cop with sticky fingers?”

Silco’s gaze didn’t falter, though his smile thinned ever so slightly. “Marcus…” He said the name slowly, as though savoring it. “A man with many allegiances and none. He’s useful, in his way. Opportunistic, like most of Piltover’s so-called enforcers.”

“That’s not a no,” Jinx pressed, her tone sharper now. “You think he could’ve been involved ?”

Silco’s expression didn’t change, but there was a subtle shift in his tone—calm, yet heavy with unspoken meaning. “Marcus is a survivor. And survivors… they do what’s necessary, no matter the cost. But whether that makes him guilty of anything here ? That’s a question best left to your investigation, not my musings.”

Jinx frowned, her fingers drumming against the desk. “That’s… vague.”

Silco chuckled softly, leaning forward. “Vagueness, my dear, is the foundation of survival in this city. Be careful where you dig. Some graves are best left undisturbed. You’ve always been resourceful, Jinx. You will figure it out.”

His words lingered in her mind as she pushed off the desk. “Yeah, well… thanks for the pep talk I guess.”

“Always a pleasure ” Silco said with a faint smirk, watching her leave. As the door closed behind her, his smile faded, replaced by a thoughtful frown.

Jinx paced through Zaun’s streets, her mind churning. Silco’s words replayed in her head, each syllable laced with his usual cryptic precision. Some graves are best left undisturbed. She hated when he got all philosophical—it usually meant he knew something he wasn’t telling her. 

“Why the hell would Marcus be on this file ?” she muttered, her brow furrowing.

Sure he was an enforcer. Was his presence on the case really just a little detail not worth any attention in this sea of questions ? But she couldn’t scratch out that pang of unease. She knew for a fact that Silco had some deals with some enforcers, Marcus being one of them. Pilties might act all high and mighty, but they were far from it, and a lot of them wanted to preserve this polished image they gave to the world, as rotten as the inside could be. How could someone like him being in such a curious case mean nothing ? Plus he himself noted that the note was fake. If he was paid to bury the case, why write such a thing ? 

This case was taking up so much of her head that she was getting a migraine. She seriously needed to blow some shit off. Literally. 

Ekko leaned against the rusted railing of the Firelight Detective Agency’s balcony, his gaze locked onto the streets below. The lower district of Piltover stretched out beneath him, its sleek but weathered architecture caught in the amber glow of street lamps. It was cleaner than Zaun but still bore the scars of neglect—cracks in the cobblestone, rust creeping into metal fixtures, the kind of wear Piltover’s high society pretended not to see. Scar’s warning echoed in his mind as he replayed everything he’d learned so far, as the hum of machinery resonated ever-present in the air.

And in the middle of it all, a splash of color.

His jaw tightened as he watched her. She was reckless, infuriating, and impossible to trust.

But damn if she wasn’t intriguing.

And dangerous.

What are you up to?

Jinx stood by an old brick wall, shaking a can of spray paint like it owed her money. She worked fast, jagged strokes layering over each other in clashing blues, purples, and sickly yellows. If Ekko had to guess, she wasn’t thinking—just moving, just doing . Then, without breaking stride, she reached into her satchel, pulled out something small and metallic, and rolled it toward a pile of crates.

Ekko sighed just as the device detonated , a controlled boom sending a burst of smoke into the alleyway.

Jinx stood in the middle of the haze, hands on her hips, admiring her work.

“You know, you’re running out of walls to ruin” Ekko called down.

Jinx didn’t even flinch at his voice. She just sighed dramatically, tilting her head back. “And you’re running out of places to brood, Little Man.”

Ekko smirked. “Maybe I just like the view.”

That got a reaction. Jinx froze, only for a second, before her lips twisted into a knowing grin. She turned on her heel, twirling the spray can between her fingers.

“Cute” she drawled. “Recycling my own lines ? What ran out of original material already ?”

Ekko shrugged. “Hey, it was a good line.”

Jinx snorted. “Yeah, well, enjoy it while it lasts. You lurking up there is getting boring .”

Ekko considered that for a moment, then, without warning, stepped onto the balcony railing and jumped .

Jinx barely had time to step back before he landed smoothly beside her, hands in his pockets like he’d just stepped off a curb instead of a second-story balcony.

She blinked. Then her eyes narrowed. “Show-off.”

Ekko smirked. “What, jealous ?”

Jinx scoffed, tossing the spray can over her shoulder. “Please. I could’ve done it with a triple backflip.”

Ekko glanced up at the half-finished graffiti behind her. “Didn’t peg you for an artist.”

“Didn’t peg you for a critic.”

He smirked. “You got a reason for coloring half the city, or just felt like pissing off some Enforcers ?”

Jinx rolled her shoulders. “Zaun’s done. Got sick of looking at the same ol’ gray. Figured Piltover needed a little chaos .”

Ekko hummed. “Yeah ? And the explosives ?”

Jinx grinned. “What’s a masterpiece without a little flair ?”

Ekko shook his head, gaze flicking back to the wall. His smirk faded slightly as he took it in—jagged, overlapping colors, chaotic but… deliberate. 

Ekko let it drop—for now. Instead, he nodded toward the cans. “You done here or are we about to get arrested ?”

Jinx grinned. “Oh, please. Like I’d let them catch me.”

Ekko shook his head, but he couldn’t help the small smirk tugging at his lips. Damn it, she was impossible. 

When she started to leave, he followed. He could let her go, keep his distance. But something nagged at him. The way she’d reacted earlier—her sharp little deflections– the file. Yeah. He had to push a little more.

She said nothing. They walked in silence for a few beats, the tension between them settling into something almost… familiar.

Ekko finally broke it. “You still think Jayce is hiding something ?”

Jinx snorted. “I think Jayce is too busy playing golden boy to get his hands dirty. But someone’s cleaning up this mess real fast. And if Marcus was sniffing around Viktor’s case, then either he was onto something, or someone made sure he wasn’t.”

Ekko’s mind turned over her words. It made sense. But it still wasn’t enough.

“Silco tell you anything ?” he asked, watching her closely.

Her smirk twitched, just for a second. She glanced at him. “Not your business.”

Ekko huffed out a laugh. “Our case, so yeah kinda my business”

She wrinkled her nose. “He's got nothing to do with it”

“As if Zaun's most influential man, with his nose in all sorts of shady deals, wouldn't have something to do with it…”

Jinx’s eyes flickered for a moment, then she snapped, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. “Well, maybe Silco’s got a few things up his sleeve, but they sure as hell don’t have anything to do with Viktor’s little ‘accident.’”

Ekko raised an eyebrow, leaning in just slightly. “Is that so ?”

“Yep,” she shot back, crossing her arms. “Zaun’s got more than enough problems without getting tangled up in some high-and-mighty Piltover mess.”

“Funny how you’re all for the mess when it’s convenient, but now you’re playing innocent,” Ekko teased, his tone light but knowing.

Jinx’s grin faltered, just a momentary crack in her armor. She took a deep breath, pushing past it. “Innocent ? Oh, please. I don’t do innocent. I deal with things my way.”

Ekko stared at her for a long moment, not saying a word.

Her lips twitched, a faint smirk returning. “What, you want me to lay it all out for you ? You really think I’m just going to spill everything like some open book ?”

“Maybe I’m not asking for all of it,” Ekko replied, his voice softer now. “Just enough to know I’m not chasing ghosts in the dark.”

She studied him for a second, then let out a dramatic sigh. “Alright, since you’re so damn curious—Silco’s got some sort of deal going on with the Enforcers. Nothing new. He doesn’t have anything to do with Marcus’s presence on the case though. Tadaaa here’s go nothing”

Ekko’s stomach twisted. Silco working with the Enforcers wasn’t a shock—Zaun’s underworld ran on dirty deals—but this case ? Like he could believe Silco didn’t have control on another one of his dogs. She on the other hand looked like she trusted what he told her. Was it his own prejudices that were making him overly suspicious and paranoid, or was it his trust in his adoptive father that was blinding him ? Sure the man was clearly not a saint but a murder would be a big thing, even for someone like him.

Jinx stretched her arms behind her head. “That satisfy your curiosity, detective ? Or you need another favor ?”

Ekko nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You know, you’re not half as tough as you pretend to be.”

Jinx shot him a pointed glare. “And you’re not as charming as you think you are. Keep it up and I’ll make you regret it.”

“Maybe I like the risk” he teased, the tension between them shifting into something more complicated.

Jinx looked at him for a beat, then let out a huff of frustration.They reached a crossroad, the moment stretching between them. Jinx rocked on her heels. “I’m done with this conversation. You don’t get to drag me around like your little sidekick.” 

Ekko’s smile remained, but his tone turned serious. “You sure you don’t want to stick around ? Could get interesting.”

Jinx paused, glancing back at him with a wry smile. “You just can’t let me go, can you ?”

“I like the view” he said, his voice quiet but confident.

Her smile faltered for a moment, then she gave a small shrug. “Whatever you say, Sherlock”

She gave him a lazy salute before sauntering off, disappearing into the streets like a ghost.

Ekko lingered for a moment, staring after her.

Something about this felt off. Jinx wasn’t taking this seriously—but she also wasn’t walking away.

And that meant she knew something.

One way or another, he was going to find out what.

Ekko didn’t head straight back to the FDA. Not yet. Instead, he lingered in the lower district, moving between dimly lit streets and half-constructed scaffolding. Piltover’s underbelly buzzed with life even at this hour—vendors selling scraps, workers unloading crates, and the occasional Enforcer patrolling the edges like they were afraid to step too far in.

His mind churned with the words Jinx had tossed at him. Her cryptic comments about Silco, and her constant game of cat and mouse. Ekko knew her well enough to see the cracks in her armor, but the pieces weren't fitting together yet. Was Silco via Marcus involved, or was it just another part of the tangled mess she was so used to creating ? What about Jayce ?

Ekko’s thoughts drifted to Heimerdinger. The old yordle had always been a calming presence in the storm of Piltover politics. Maybe his wisdom could shed some light on Viktor’s death, or at the very least, help him sort through the noise. He’d always been one of the few voices of reason on the council before he left it. If someone could help him learn some things or two it would be him after all talking to Jayce would certainly be a hard task because of his well known busy schedule, and he couldn't afford to do nothing in the meantime. This case was like a race against time, and he had the impression that the more time passed, the further away the truth became as he lost his way between a multitude of information.

When Ekko reached Heimerdinger’s lab, he paused for a moment, taking in the faint ozone smell drifting from within. The door creaked open with a familiar groan, the sound of metal tools scraping against metal filling the air as Ekko stepped inside.

“Heimer” Ekko called, his voice echoing in the vast lab. The professor didn’t look up immediately, his focus fixed on some intricate contraption in front of him.

“Ah, Ekko, to what do I owe this unexpected visit ?” Heimerdinger asked without looking up, his tone kind but edged with the exhaustion of too many sleepless nights spent tinkering. “It’s quite late, my boy.”

Ekko leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms, the weight of the case heavy in his chest. “I need to talk about Viktor.”

At that, Heimerdinger’s hands stilled. He set down his tools and turned to face Ekko, his bushy eyebrows furrowing slightly. “What about him ?”

“There’s something off about his death,” Ekko said bluntly. “I know I just started working on the case, but the more I dig, the less sense it makes. The suicide note ? It’s fake.”

Heimerdinger’s ears twitched—almost imperceptibly, but Ekko noticed. “Are you certain ?” The question was careful, too careful.

“Positive” Ekko replied. “Whoever wrote it tried to mimic his handwriting, but it’s too perfect. No smudges, no hesitation. And the way the case was wrapped up so fast ? Feels like someone’s trying to bury it.”

Heimerdinger’s gaze shifted, his expression distant, the kind of look someone gets when they're pretending not to think about something they’d rather forget. “Viktor was... complicated. Brilliant, yes, but his ideas often strayed into dangerous territory. He believed technology should surpass human limitations, regardless of the risks.”

Ekko nodded, considering the professor’s words. He'd heard the rumors about Viktor’s work. Dangerous projects, forbidden research—things that even Heimerdinger, the man who had seen the worst of Piltover’s advancements, found too extreme. “So, you and him didn’t see eye to eye ?”

“Rarely” Heimerdinger admitted with a soft sigh. “He was impatient, unwilling to wait for proper testing and approval. It put us at odds more than once. It’s a thing of youth. But I never doubted his integrity. If what you’re saying is true… it’s deeply troubling.” He paused, his eyes flicking momentarily to the piles of disassembled tech on his workbench, as if lost in thought. “Viktor… he was driven, perhaps too much so for his own good.”

“Do you think someone in Piltover had a reason to silence him ?” Ekko asked, pushing. The pieces weren’t adding up. Viktor’s work had been controversial, but there were a lot of people in Piltover who did worse things in the name of progress.

Heimerdinger hesitated, his ears flicking once more, then twice. “I can’t say for certain. But Viktor’s work often threatened powerful interests. If you want answers, you’ll need to look beyond the surface.”

Ekko studied him for a moment. Heimerdinger wasn’t being overtly secretive, but there was something in his tone—something in the way he kept glancing at the mess of technology scattered across his lab—that didn’t sit right. Ekko couldn’t shake the feeling that the professor knew more than he was letting on, even if he wasn’t directly involved.

“Thanks, professor. I’ll keep you updated,” Ekko said, his voice a little softer now, trying to mask the unease bubbling in his gut.

As Ekko turned to leave, Heimerdinger called after him, his voice tinged with something that might have been genuine concern—he couldn’t be sure. “Be careful, Ekko. There might be more at play here than you realize.”

Ekko paused at the door. “I will” he said, and then, for a moment, he felt something in Heimerdinger’s gaze shift, a brief flicker of recognition or perhaps regret.

The door clicked shut behind him as he stepped back into the cold night air. Viktor’s death was beginning to feel like a far deeper puzzle than anyone, even Heimerdinger, was willing to admit.

It had been a long day. Ekko headed for his small flat, ready for a good sleep to clear his mind.

The lab hummed with the constant rhythm of progress, but for all its noise, the tension in the air was palpable. Viktor sat hunched over a workbench, his hands moving with practiced precision, adjusting a complex mechanism that flickered with unsteady light. His brow furrowed, but his mind was elsewhere, far beyond the task at hand.

A voice, tight with frustration, cut through the silence. "Viktor, you're going too far. You’re playing with things you don’t understand."

Viktor didn’t look up. “I understand perfectly. It's only when you’re afraid of what could happen that you miss what’s right in front of you."

The voice snapped back, incredulous. “This isn’t about what’s in front of us ! This is about what could be destroyed. The council... the people... you’re pushing it too far with your experiments !”

Viktor's gaze shifted, the faintest glint of impatience in his eyes. "And that’s exactly the problem, isn’t it ? You care too much about who gets hurt along the way. You’re stuck, constantly fighting for things that don’t matter. I know what we can achieve. What we should achieve."

There was a sharp, strained intake of breath before the voice came again, more measured now. "And what, you think I don’t ? But the difference is, I see the bigger picture. You’re obsessed with pushing boundaries, but you don’t see how far we’ve already gone. You don’t see what’s at stake. You’re moving so fast you fail to pay attention to the consequences."

Viktor’s hands stilled, and for a moment, a shadow crossed his features. “I don’t need your permission. I never did.” He looked up, his voice low, but laced with something cold. “You’re more concerned with what’s safe, what’s comfortable. I never asked for comfort. I don’t have time. You’re getting too caught up in politics. What happened about changing the world ?”

The voice faltered, something hard and wounded in the silence that followed. “It’s not about that, Viktor. It’s about balance. You can’t just tear everything down to build something new.”

Viktor straightened, his gaze hardening. "Balance is a barrier to progress. It’s about breaking the limits they place on us, changing lives, ameliorating them. And if you’re not with me on this, then you’re just part of the problem.”

There was a long pause. The tension was unbearable now, thick and suffocating, as if both were standing on the edge of something they couldn’t turn back from.

Finally, the voice spoke, softer, almost resigned. “I didn’t want this to happen. I didn’t want to lose you.”

Viktor’s lips curled into a slight, bitter smile. "You already have."

The silence that followed felt infinite. Neither of them moved, but the space between them was unbridgeable now. The divide was no longer just philosophical. It was personal .

Chapter Text

Jinx woke up to the muffled sounds of Zaun already alive outside her window. The acrid scent of smoke and oil lingered in the air, mixing with the faint metallic tang that seemed to cling to everything in this city. She groaned, stretching her arms over her head until her shoulders popped.

Her apartment was a mess, but she liked it that way, clothes draped over chairs, bullet casings scattered across her desk, a half-eaten protein bar on the nightstand. She kicked a wrench off the bed, rubbing her eyes as she staggered to the bathroom. A quick, burning shower washed away the grime of the night before, though it did nothing for the buzzing thoughts in her head. Viktor’s death. The fake note. Jayce.

By the time she stepped out of the bathroom, steam curling around her, she felt more awake. A towel slung around her shoulders, she padded barefoot to her dresser, rummaging through the mess of clothes. She opted for a pair of ripped jeans and her usual cropped tank top. She threw on her old bomber jacket. Her usual black combat boots were by the door, right where she’d kicked them off last night.

She leaned into the cracked mirror, swiping on smudged blue eyeshadow, sharp black liner, and her signature burgundy lipstick. She grinned at her reflection, satisfied with her appearance. It was time to see what Sevika had dug up.

The office was the same as always, though it had been quite some time since she came so often to it. She had an office there, of course, but was barely even in it, her colleagues knew better than to try to find her for some help on their cases. She only ever worked on Silco’s direct orders, her father calling her for the most sensible and difficult cases.

Sevika was at her desk, boots kicked up, swirling a glass of something too strong for morning. Jinx strolled in, letting the door swing shut behind her.

“Morning sunshine” she drawled, dropping into the chair across from Sevika.

Sevika barely glanced up. “You look like shit.”

Jinx smirked. “ Aw you sweet talker. Now tell me you’ve got something good.”

Sevika sighed, grabbing a folder from the pile. “On Jayce ? Yeah, I’ve got something.” She tossed it onto the desk. “No business meetings or shady dealings, but there’s talk about him having a lover.”

Jinx’s brow lifted. “Oh ?”

“Yeah. He’s been spending a lot of time with Viktor. More than before. More than necessary. Enough that people started noticing.”

Jinx leaned forward, flipping open the folder. There were notes,timestamps, locations, whispers from informants. A surveillance shot of Jayce lingering outside Viktor’s lab, late at night.

Sevika continued, voice even. “Word is whatever was going on between them ? It wasn’t just work. They were close. Real close. And in the weeks before Viktor’s death, Jayce was at that lab constantly. Could be just rumors, but could be something else.”

Jinx tapped her nails against the desk, frowning at the photo. “So he’s got a secret. And whatever it is, it probably died with Viktor.”

Sevika shrugged. “Looks that way.”

Jinx shut the folder, tucking it under her arm. “Guess I’ll have to shake the truth out of him myself.”

Sevika smirked. “Try not to blow up anything in the process.”

“No promises.” Jinx was already out the door, mind racing with possibilities.

The bluenette didn’t do appointments. That was for people who followed rules, and rules were for people who didn’t know how to get what they wanted.

So when she strolled into the Council building, flashing her Zaun Investigation credentials at the receptionist, she ignored their weak protests and made a beeline for the labs. Zaun investigation may well have been the only Zaunian firm with enough of a reputation to earn it a direct form of respect from these pilties, even though it was not enough for her to have free access to everywhere. The whole place reeked of money, of pretentiousness with its polished floors, pristine glass walls. It was so lifeless and without personality it made her skin crawl.

She found Jayce exactly where she expected him, buried in work. The lab was a mess of blueprints, tools, and half-assembled devices, but Jayce barely looked up from whatever he was tinkering with.

“Councilor Talis” Jinx drawled, leaning against the doorway.

Jayce’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing as he took her in. He looked like hell, unshaven, dark circles under his eyes, his usually neat clothes wrinkled like he’d slept in them. If he had slept at all.

“Who are you ?” he asked, straightening, his voice wary.

“Detective Jinx from Zaun Investigation.” She flashed her badge. “You hired us to look into Viktor’s death. Thought I’d drop by and get your take on things.”

Jayce exhaled, rubbing his face. “I already gave my statement.”

“Yeah, but I like to hear things directly from the source.” Jinx stepped closer, taking in the cluttered workspace, the unfinished projects. “So, what were you two working on before all this went down ?”

Jayce hesitated, then sighed. “Hextech advancements. We were refining safety measures, trying to make more helpful prosthetic devices with minimal modifications to the body.” His voice was distant, like he was reciting from memory rather than really thinking about it.

Jinx studied him. Exhaustion clung to every part of him, but there was more guilt, sorrow, something deeper gnawing at him. He looked like someone who had more than a few complicated days. It seemed like Viktor’s death had really taken a toll on his health.

“Walk me through the morning you found him,” she said.

His jaw tensed. “I—” He exhaled, bracing himself. “I got to the lab early. The door was locked. When I got inside, he was already… gone.” His voice dipped on the last word. “Just… there. Sitting on his chair like usual but…” Dead. He seemed unable to finish his sentence, as if saying what state Viktor was in was too difficult for him, although he didn't really need to say it for Jinx to understand what he meant.

She watched his hands, tight fists, then fingers flexing. Like he was trying to ground himself.

“Viktor” she said suddenly. “What did he do when he wasn’t, y’know, inventing things?” Her tone was softer than before, which surprised even her. Seeing the Golden boy of posters, The man of Progress Topside was always showing so clean-cut, right now so pathetic and desperate, was a bit of a shock. If in other circumstances she would have laughed right in his face at his appearance and the irony of Topside’s poster guy looking like shit, right now she was looking at someone grieving and certainly living some hell.

Jayce blinked, caught off guard. “What ?”

“You heard me.” She crossed her arms. “What did he do for fun ? Any hobbies ? Favorite food ? C’mon, you were partners, you gotta know.” Trying to lighten the mood was not her strong suit, but asking questions other than the usual sordid ones usually had this effect, mixing melancholy and nostalgia to soften defensiveness. At least that's what Silco taught her. And he seemed right.

Jayce hesitated, then his lips twitched, almost a smile, but it faded too fast. “He liked music. Classical, mostly. Used to play this old violin in the lab. Wasn’t great, but he kept at it.”

“Huh. Didn’t peg him for the artsy type.”

“He also liked doodling and puzzles” Jayce continued. “Kept this little metal contraption on his desk, something he’d twist apart when he was thinking.” His gaze softened for a moment, distant. “He was always thinking.”

Jinx nodded. That was the kind of stuff people didn’t put in reports. The details that made a person real.

“So” Now that he seemed a bit more relaxed, she shifted gears, “you two ever fight ? About your work ?”

Jayce tensed. “We disagreed, yeah.”

“About ?”

Jayce rubbed the back of his neck. “He thought I was too cautious. I thought he was too reckless. He wanted to push Hextech further, but I worried about the risks.” He exhaled sharply. “It wasn’t just professional. It got personal sometimes.”

Jinx tilted her head. “And now that he’s gone, you’re the one who called us in. So tell me, what do you think happened ?”

Jayce hesitated. “At first, I thought it felt wrong, a man ambitious like him killing himself when we were doing so much, changing the world....” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “But now ? Maybe he just couldn’t take it anymore. Maybe we were pushing it too far, maybe I was pushing him and pressuring him too much when he already had a plate full.” It seemed like as time passed regret was eating him alive.

Jinx narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean ?”

Jayce's mind seemed to wander, as if the conversation had brought back a memory.

The room was dimly lit, the heavy curtains drawn shut against the late evening city lights. A bottle of wine sat untouched on the glass coffee table, two glasses filled but forgotten. Mel stood near the window, arms crossed, her silhouette sharp against the soft glow of the streetlamps filtering through the fabric. Jayce lingered near the couch, hands on his hips, his jaw set in that stubborn way that told her he was already on the defensive.

"You're keeping something from me," Mel said, voice controlled, but tight. "I can feel it."

Jayce let out a breath, tilting his head back before rubbing a hand down his face. "Mel, not this again."

"Then just tell me," she pressed, finally turning to face him. "Tell me who it is."

His brows furrowed, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features before his expression smoothed over. "There's no one."

She scoffed, stepping forward. "Jayce, I know you. You come home late. You disappear without a word. Your phone is always on silent. And you won’t even look me in the eye when you deny it."

Jayce exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "Mel, I’ve been busy. The Council—"

"Don't give me that." Her voice sharpened. "The Council has always been demanding. But this? This is different. You’re different."

He swallowed, gaze flickering to the side for just a second. "I don’t want to fight."

"Then be honest with me. Who is it ?" Her voice softened, but her eyes burned with something raw. "Do you love them ?"

Jayce’s jaw clenched. "Mel—"

"You do, don’t you ?" Her lips pressed together, her hands curling into fists before she forced them open again. "You love them."

A muscle in his cheek twitched. He didn’t answer.

The silence stretched between them, thick, suffocating. Mel let out a slow breath, her shoulders dropping slightly. "You don’t lie very well, you know."

Jayce turned away, bracing a hand against the armrest of the couch. "It’s not… like that."

She tilted her head, studying him. "Then what is it like ?"

His fingers curled against the fabric. "Complicated. But I swear it’s nothing like that."

Mel's gaze didn’t waver. "Do I know them ?"

Another hesitation. Another tell. Jayce was usually so put together, so composed in negotiations, but here, now, he was unraveling, his guard slipping.

"It doesn’t matter" he finally said. "I told you it’s not like—"

"It does matter, Jayce," she cut in. "Because I deserve to know why my fiancé’s time belongs to someone else."

Jayce inhaled sharply, turning back to her, his expression raw with something she couldn’t quite place. "Mel, I—"

His phone buzzed. A short vibration against the coffee table.

They both looked down.

The screen was dark, but the name had already flashed across it for just a second before fading away.

Viktor.

Mel's lips parted, just slightly, her breath catching. When she lifted her gaze back to Jayce, his expression had shifted, something like panic flashing across his face before he schooled it into something neutral. But it was too late.

The silence between them this time was deafening.

Jayce moved to grab the phone, but she stepped forward, voice quieter now. "He’s sick, isn’t he ?"

Jayce froze. Then, after a beat, he sighed. "Yes."

Mel swallowed. "For how long ?"

"A while." His voice was hoarse. "It’s getting worse."

She watched him carefully. "And you’ve been taking care of him."

Jayce exhaled slowly. "He’s my best friend."

Mel let those words settle, let them twist and settle in the spaces between them. Her gaze flickered to his face, to the way his fingers gripped his phone too tightly, to the tension in his shoulders.

"I see" she murmured.

He looked at her then, searching. "Mel—"

She shook her head. "I just need some air."

And with that, she turned and walked out, leaving Jayce standing there, heart pounding, a name unspoken between his teeth.

As if awakened by reality under the insistent gaze of Jinx, Jayce hesitated, then finally admitted, “Because Viktor was sick.” His voice was quiet, raw. “A degenerative disease. It was getting worse. He didn’t talk about it much, but I knew. And if there was one thing about Viktor, it’s that he never stopped looking for answers.”

Jinx watched him carefully. The doubt. The grief. The guilt. His eyes were watering, tears almost flowing as he seemed to be holding them back with difficulty.

“Well,” she finally said, standing up. “Sounds like you’re not as sure about this case as you thought.”

Jayce didn’t respond.

Jinx turned to leave, then paused at the door. “One last thing—what were you working on just now ?”

Jayce hesitated before answering, his voice low and resolute. “Something Viktor started. I’m trying to finish it.”

Jinx smirked. “Careful with that. You wouldn’t want to end up like him.”

And with that, she was gone, leaving him alone with his thoughts, as the name of the man who had died in a tragedy could be heard in a whisper that echoed in the empty corridors. 

Ekko’s eyes snapped open before his alarm even had the chance to ring. His body was used to early mornings, trained by habit, discipline and necessity. He lay there for a moment, the weight of unanswered questions pressing on his mind. Marcus. The name had burrowed its way into his thoughts, refusing to let go.

He pushed himself up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Stretching out the stiffness in his shoulders, he grabbed his phone from the nightstand, already dialing Scar’s number as he moved.

The call connected with a crackle. “Please tell me you found something” Ekko said, his voice still thick with sleep.

Scar let out a low chuckle. “Damn, you don’t even say good morning first ?”

Ekko rolled his eyes, shuffling toward his dresser. “Morning. Now spill.”

He pulled on a fitted black turtleneck, tucking it into a pair of dark cargo pants. Practical, comfortable, easy to move in. His fingers worked on his belt as Scar hummed on the other end.

“Nothing too juicy, but I did get something.” A pause. “Marcus has a daughter.”

Ekko frowned, buttoning his cuffs. “Didn’t expect that.”

“Yeah. Little thing, around ten or so. He spoils her, though. Heard he swings by a bakery every week to pick up sweets for her.”

Ekko let that sink in as he walked to his small bathroom. He turned on the sink, splashing cold water on his face before grabbing a towel. “That’s not nothing” he muttered, drying off.

Scar sighed on the other end. “I know this is personal info and not the dirt you’re looking for. If you want to find that I fear you’re gonna have to meet and talk to the guy. But it’s not like he's gonna meet us officially, so that’s all I’ve got. However I don’t think it will work out.”

Ekko opened a small bottle of cologne, dabbing a little on his wrists and neck before rubbing it in. “Maybe. Or maybe that’s where he lets his guard down and it will.”

“Don’t get reckless” Scar warned.

Ekko ran a hand over his short locs, shaking off the dampness. “I never do.”

Scar snorted. “Yeah okay.”

Grabbing his jacket, Ekko gave himself a final once-over in the mirror. His face was set, sharp with determination. “Thank you Scar. I know it wasn’t easy to find useful things on him.”

Scar exhaled on the other end. “Alright, alright don't make a big deal about it. But you owe me for this.”

Ekko smirked. “Put it on my tab.”

Ending the call, he tucked his phone into his pocket, slipping his jacket over his shoulders. He had a lead now, and that was all he needed to keep going.

Time to see what Marcus was really hiding.

Piltover had a way of making everything feel too pristine, too structured. But as Ekko turned the corner onto a quiet side street, he found himself in front of a shop that felt different.

The Last Pastry was small but charming, nestled between two taller buildings like a secret waiting to be discovered. Its large windows were framed with dark wood, vines of flowering ivy twisting around the edges. The sign above the door was elegantly painted in gold lettering, the scent of freshly baked bread and sugar drifting into the streets like an invitation.

Inside, the warmth of the bakery wrapped around him instantly. Soft yellow light illuminated glass display cases filled with intricate pastries, each more beautifully crafted than the last. The shelves behind the counter were lined with jars of honey, dried flowers, and neatly wrapped confections. Small potted plants sat on the windowsills, their leaves trailing lazily as if even the flora here had no reason to rush. The place had a peaceful and soothing atmosphere, where you could sit and relax or work if you desired.

The owner, a kind-looking old woman with silver hair pinned in a loose bun, greeted him with a gentle smile. She wore a flour-dusted apron and had the air of someone who had been running this bakery for decades.

“Good morning, dear. First time here ?”

Ekko nodded, smiling back before looking down, his eyes scanning the colorful selection before him. “Yeah. Everything looks… kinda perfect.”

She chuckled. “Thank you darling, I do my best. Looking for something specific ?”

He glanced at the cakes, searching for something so his presence here wouldn’t feel too suspicious. That’s when his eyes landed on an odd-looking cake shaped like a Yordle’s face. The fluffy, pastel-colored frosting made it look playful, but the tag caught his attention :

"The Trickster’s Delight – A deceptive little treat with a hidden twist of flavor !"

Ekko raised an eyebrow because of its funny appearance and the mysterious tag that tingled his detective instincts. “What’s the twist ?”

The woman’s eyes twinkled. “It looks like a simple vanilla sponge, but inside ? A sharp burst of citrus and a hint of spice. A little mischief in every bite.” She sure was a good seller, and passionate about her sweets to make them so detailed.

He smirked, amused. That’s kinda perfect. Heimer would’ve gotten a kick out of it. It looked exactly like the type that the old scientist would like. Maybe one day he would bring one to him to cheer up his low mood since Viktor’s death. Though for him right now more than just a funny cake it was one that resonated with his case. It almost felt like a hint about this whole damn case, resuming the entire situation, the little mischief remark making him think of a certain blue haired catastrophe.

“I’ll take one” he said pulling out a few coins.

As she wrapped the cake in a delicate box, he stopped her “Oh I will eat it here if that’s alright.”

“Of course my dear take your place I will bring it to you. Something to drink, a cup of tea ?”

“No that’s alright, thank you very much.”

When the old lady came to bring his cake on a small porcelain plate decorated with flowers and a matching small golden fork , he took the opportunity to confirm Scar’s information.

Lowering his voice but keeping a charming, warm attitude as he smiled at her.  “I heard your store’s quite popular with the enforcers, that's why I've come here today. You have a very good reputation and I understand why.”

As if she could see through his comment, she replied with a mischievous smile. 

“You're too kind. It's true that I'm lucky enough to have some regular customers with prestige attached to their name. Perhaps I could count you among them, if my patisserie is to your taste, which I hope it will be.” 

Giving him one last smile, she went back behind her counter. As for Ekko, he savoured the taste of progress in his investigation. A small one maybe, but knowing that Marcus, a key figure in this case would come around at some point was a victory in its own way

So Ekko had made it a habit to return each day at different times that could match with an enforcer schedule. He never lingered too long in the bakery itself, never asked too many questions. Sometimes he would read a bit, then leave, other he would scribble in his notebook. He bought different things each time, honey tarts, lavender scones, cream puff pastry filled with chocolate name religieuse au chocolat and even another Yordle cake to bring to Heimerdinger.

The bakery had become a waiting ground, a place where he loitered under the guise of picking out something sweet while keeping an eye out for Marcus.

Days had passed. No sign of the enforcer yet.

He sighed, shifting his weight. The old woman behind the counter gave him a knowing look. “Back again, dear ?”

He smirked. “What can I say ? Guess I’ve got a thing for good company.”

She chuckled, wiping her hands on her apron. “Or maybe you’ve got a thing for overthinking. You stand there long enough to make the cakes nervous.”

Ekko huffed a small laugh but said nothing. His gaze drifted back to the display. He saw a small cake, nothing extravagant. But the color caught his eye first a pale, delicate blue with streaks of deep magenta swirling through the frosting, almost wild, chaotic in the way the colors twisted together. It was topped with something unexpected, a single, sharp shard of caramelized sugar, jagged and golden, glinting under the bakery lights like a tiny, harmless explosion.

Jinx.

He didn't need to read the label. If someone had asked him to imagine her as a cake, it would look like this. Charming appearance, looking sweet but then ? A sharp edge, something unpredictable. You’d either love it or regret taking a bite.

Something unreadable flickered in his eyes. It was ridiculous. He shouldn’t even be thinking about her. She was a pain in the ass, reckless and sharp-tongued, always pressing his buttons like it was a game. But then he remembered the way she gave him Viktor’s case, and their walk the other day.

Ekko exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. Dumb.

He wasn’t here for Jinx. He was here to watch for Marcus. To find answers. And yet, as the old woman approached, asking if he wanted to try anything, he heard himself say

“That one.”

She blinked, following his gaze. “Ah, the Wildberry Turmoil. It’s a bit unpredictable tart at first, but then the sweetness comes through.”

Ekko smirked. Yeah. Sounds about right.

“I’ll take it.”

Over time, the owner became accustomed to his presence, each time having a small talk with him. And then, on the fifth visit, he saw him.

Marcus stood in front of the display case, shoulders tense, eyes scanning the selection with an uncharacteristically serious expression. His usual air of authority was absent, instead, he looked conflicted and tired.

Ekko, leaning against a nearby shelf, watched him carefully. Hesitation. And concentration. That wasn’t something you expected from a man like Marcus in front of sweets.

“Hard to choose right ?”

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his stubbled face as he stared at the cakes, not bothering to give him more than a glaze after realising he had a young man next to him. “You ever try picking out the perfect thing for someone who means the world to you ?” His voice was low, carrying the weight of exhaustion. “Feels like no matter what you choose, it’s never quite right.”

Ekko glanced at him, his usual sharpness softening. He recognized that tone, a man trying, a father trying. He was more chattier than he imagined him to be. Maybe because of the casual context they were in.

“Depends on the someone” Ekko said, tilting his head slightly. “But yeah, I get it.” 

Marcus exhaled, finally looking at him. The dark circles under his eyes made him seem older, like the stress of life had settled into his bones. “My daughter” he admitted with a quiet chuckle. “She’s been going through a rough time lately, and I always bring her something from here. Used to be easy, she loved anything sweet.” He paused, shaking his head with a tired chuckle. “Now ? She’s growing up too fast. Got opinions about everything. One wrong pick and I’m the worst dad in the world.”

Ekko smirked, nodding toward the Yordle cake. “That one’s fun. Surprise flavor inside. Maybe she’ll like the mystery.”

Marcus eyed it for a moment before letting out a short laugh. “You know, she does like puzzles.” He finally waved over the old woman at the counter. “Alright, I’ll take it.”

As she packed up the cake, Marcus sighed, rolling his shoulders as if trying to shake off the weight of the day, he studied him with quiet curiosity. “Didn’t catch your name.”

“Ekko.” He extended a hand, casual but confident.

Marcus hesitated only briefly before shaking it. His grip was firm, practiced, like someone used to measuring people by the way they carried themselves. “Marcus.”

Ekko gestured to a small seating area near the window. “Got a few minutes ? I was about to sit for a bit.”

Marcus looked like he wanted to say no. Then, as if deciding he didn’t have the energy to argue, he nodded. “Yeah. Alright.”

They sat across from each other, the scent of fresh pastries and coffee lingering between them. Marcus leaned back, rubbing his temples.

“So” Ekko started, keeping his voice light but purposeful, “you’re an enforcer, right ? Must be a tough job.” He decided to put his cards directly on the table, but was still surprised by the lack of surprise in Marcus' reaction to his comment. If he was in a more relaxed mood than usual, he was still a quick-witted person.

He just chuckled like he was amused by his straightforwardness. “That’s one way to put it.” He studied Ekko for a moment. “You’re not just making conversation, are you ?”

Ekko smiled softly. “No, I’m not.” He tapped a finger against the table. “I work for the Firelights Detective Agency. And I’m looking into Viktor’s case.”

Marcus’s expression darkened, his fingers tightening slightly around his coffee cup.

Ekko held up a hand, his tone still calm. “Not trying to pick a fight I assure you. I just want to talk. To understand. You were the one who closed the case, right ?”

Marcus exhaled sharply. “I don’t know what you saw or think you saw, but I just followed procedure. The case’s closed, nothing to say about it.”

Ekko nodded slowly. “Procedure. Right.” He leaned in slightly. “But I noticed your doubt on the authenticity of the note. Why so fast if you weren’t sure ?”

Marcus was silent for a long moment, visibly surprised by the information the young man in front of him possessed. His reaction was understandable, as the file was supposed to be classified. Then, finally, he muttered “The note…It didn’t sit right with me. But that was all. An old enforcer suspicion. No reason to go after a dead end.”

Ekko’s gaze sharpened, but he didn’t push. He felt that Marcus wasn't telling him everything but was grateful that he deigned to answer him. It was better than nothing. “The case was still closed too fast. Why ?”

Marcus hesitated, looking past him, as if weighing his words. “Because Viktor wasn’t just some scientist. He was important. To a lot of people.” 

Ekko filed that away. “And yet, the case was wrapped up real quick.”

Marcus let out a slow breath. “Yeah. It was.” His jaw tightened. 

Ekko leaned back, watching him carefully. “So why didn’t you push back?”

Marcus gave a humorless chuckle. “Because in my line of work, asking too many questions can get you buried.” He met Ekko’s eyes then, something unreadable in his expression. “And I got someone who needs me to stay above ground.”

Ekko understood the message loud and clear.

Marcus’s fingers tapped the side of his cup. “Council decisions move fast when they need to.”

Ekko let out a small smile. “And some people move them faster.”

Marcus didn’t answer. But he didn’t argue either. Instead, he finally leaned forward, lowering his voice just slightly. “Piltover’s built on people who decide what’s important.” He met Ekko’s gaze, measured and unreadable. “And what isn’t.”

Marcus wasn’t going to say more. But he had already said enough. He didn't ask Ekko any questions in return, and simply left after finishing his coffee, nodding to the old lady as he went. Somewhere in the halls of Piltover’s power, someone had made a choice.

Viktor sat at his desk, the dim light of his office casting long shadows across the room. His hands rested over a scattered pile of notes, fingers lightly tapping as he read through equations for the hundredth time.

Across from him, Mel Medarda sat poised, her expression composed, her presence carefully curated. She didn’t lounge, didn’t lean in too closely, just enough to command attention without demanding it.

“You work too much” she mused, watching him with an almost amused glint in her eyes. “Even visionaries need rest.”

Viktor didn’t look up. “I will rest when the work is done.”

She hummed “And when will that be ?”

Viktor finally met her gaze, something wry flickering across his face. “Soon. I hope.”

Mel’s lips curved. “You sound like Jayce.”

That made him pause, though only briefly. “He worries too much.”

“He respects you.” Her voice was smooth, even. “But Piltover needs him focused.”

Viktor tilted his head, studying her. “And you think I am, a distraction ?”

Mel smiled, but it was the kind that left little to read. “I think you are invaluable.” She took some time before speaking again, letting the words settle. “And I think Piltover cannot afford to lose minds like yours.”

Viktor’s fingers stilled against his notes. “I am fine.”

“Of course.” Her agreement was easy, effortless. “But even great minds have limits. And if you push too far…” She let the sentence hang, as if the rest was too obvious to need stating.

Viktor exhaled softly, leaning back. “If you are here to tell me to step away from my work, you will be disappointed.”

Mel’s smile was light. “No. I would never ask that.” She tapped a finger lightly against her glass. “But I would suggest balance.”

Viktor narrowed his eyes slightly. “Balance ?”

“Even the brightest flames burn out if they are left unchecked.” She set her glass down, her golden eyes steady. “If Piltover is to move forward, we cannot afford to lose you.”

For a moment, Viktor simply watched her, calculating. He had spoken with enough politicians to know when words carried layers beneath them.

Mel Medarda was not asking him to stop.

She was asking him to slow down.

And something about that felt as if her request involved something else.

The bell above the bakery door chimed as Jinx stepped inside, the warm scent of vanilla, cinnamon, and fresh bread wrapping around her like a familiar embrace. It was a stark contrast to the city outside, Piltover, clean and crisp, always feeling like a place she didn’t quite belong in. But the bakery ? It had its own charm. Not colorful enough for her, but well, it was still a piltie place. Flowers lined the windowsills, small green vines curling around the display cases as if they’d grown there naturally. The cakes, arranged behind the glass, were little works of art, delicate pastels, intricate piping, layers of flavors hidden beneath soft, pillowy frosting.

“Ah, back again ?” The old woman behind the counter smiled warmly, wiping her hands on her apron. Her face was lined, her silver hair neatly pinned back. “You must have a sweet tooth dear.”

Jinx smirked, tilting her head. “Something like that.”

Her blue eyes flickered across the options, something catching her attention—a small, unassuming cake with a thin, delicate shell of white chocolate, almost too plain at first glance. But the shape was precise, structured. Something meticulous about it.

“What’s that one ?”

The old woman followed her gaze. “Ah, that one’s special. The outer layer is smooth, mild, but the inside’s rich. Has a strong kick of dark coffee and burnt caramel.” She tapped the glass. “A cake for those who don’t like things overly sweet but still leave an impression.”

Jinx studied it for a moment. Viktor. Not in looks, but in feeling. Subtle at first, but sharp when you really got to it.

“I’ll take one.”

As the woman packed the order, Jinx’s eyes darted to a pair of small cupcakes, topped with pink and blue frosting, a touch of gold dusting the edges. They felt familiar in a way. Vi.

She clicked her tongue, almost annoyed at herself, then sighed. “And those too.”

The old woman chuckled, boxing up the cupcakes with a knowing look. “For someone special ?”

Jinx scoffed. “For someone annoying.”

She took the bag, balancing the Viktor-inspired cake in her free hand.

“Try not to eat it too fast, dear” the woman teased.

Jinx grinned. “No promises.”

She stepped out into the street, the cool air hitting her skin as she took a bite of the cake. The flavors unfurled slowly, first smooth, then bitter, the caramel lingering like something half-burnt. She quite liked it. Jinx chewed thoughtfully, her mind drifting. Viktor. She’d never known him well, but if she learned something about him through her investigation it was that the man was sharp. A mind like his wasn’t easy to snuff out. And yet, here she was. Eating a damn cake, picking apart a death that felt too clean for a city as rotten as Piltover.

Her grip on the cake slipped.

She barely registered the moment before it fell, tumbling from her fingers, hitting the pavement with a soft, unremarkable thud. Jinx stared down at it.

The smooth shell cracked. The inside, rich and dark, now exposed to the cold air.

A cake undone.

A man gone.

She swallowed, licking caramel from the corner of her mouth.

For the first time, a thought settled at the back of her mind, unspoken yet persistent.

Maybe Viktor had fallen just like this, on his own, slipping through fingers that hadn’t held on fast enough.

Chapter Text

The lab was quiet, save for the occasional hum of machinery and the rhythmic scratching of Viktor’s pen against paper. It was late, too late, but neither of them ever cared much for time when they were working.

Jayce sat across from him, his chin resting on his palm, watching as Viktor scribbled notes on a half-finished blueprint. The soft glow of Hextech cast shadows across Viktor’s face, sharp angles softened by exhaustion. His hair was messier than usual, stray strands falling into his eyes, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“You know,” Jayce murmured, breaking the silence, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you take a break willingly.”

Viktor smirked, not looking up. “I take breaks.”

Jayce leaned forward, plucking the pen from Viktor’s fingers before he could protest. “No, you get distracted. That’s different.”

Viktor let out a soft huff, rolling his eyes, but there was no real annoyance in it. “Fine. If you insist, what do you suggest, then ?”

Jayce tilted his head, considering. Then, without answering, he reached over, fingertips ghosting over Viktor’s wrist, tracing the fine lines of ink smudged into his skin. It was a quiet touch, absentminded, but it made Viktor still.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

The air between them was charged, not with words, but with something unspoken, something that had been simmering beneath late nights and stolen glances for longer than either of them dared to admit.

Jayce’s fingers curled slightly, his thumb brushing the inside of Viktor’s wrist, where his pulse fluttered beneath thin skin. He looked up, and Viktor was already watching him, always watching him, as if Jayce were a puzzle he was still trying to solve.

Neither of them moved.

Neither of them pulled away.

And then—

A cough, sharp and sudden, cut through the moment like a knife.

Viktor turned his head away, shoulders curling inward as the cough wracked through him, stealing his breath. He gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white.

Jayce was on his feet before he could think, one hand steadying Viktor’s back, the other reaching instinctively for a glass of water. “Viktor—”

Viktor held up a hand, shaking his head as he struggled to catch his breath. It took too long.

By the time he finally looked back at Jayce, something had shifted. The moment, whatever it had been, was gone.

Viktor exhaled, forcing a smirk, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “See ?” he rasped, voice rough from coughing. “I do take breaks.”

Jayce didn’t laugh.

Jinx adjusted the small bakery box under her arm as she walked, the scent of sugar and butter still clinging to the air around it. The cupcakes inside were perfect. Fluffy, delicate, topped with just the right amount of frosting. A little too cutesy, maybe, but Vi would get over it.

She took her time heading toward the Enforcer station, weaving through the pristine, orderly streets of Piltover. The station loomed ahead, its towering structure an ugly reminder of where Vi had chosen to plant herself.

Jinx clicked her tongue, shifting her grip on the cupcake box. No use thinking about that now.

Pushing open the heavy doors, she stepped inside. The station was alive with movement, officers in uniform, stacks of paperwork, the occasional clink of metal cuffs. It smelled like ink, coffee, and bad decisions.

A few heads turned her way, recognition flickering in their eyes, but no one stopped her. That was the thing about being Silco’s daughter, people knew better than to get in her way. And her reputation helped too

She strolled toward Vi’s office, her steps light, almost lazy, until she reached the door. Without knocking, she pushed it open.

Vi was at her desk, boots kicked up, flipping through a report. Across from her, Caitlyn sat neatly, ever the picture of order, pen in hand, already scribbling notes.

Both women looked up.

Vi’s brows lifted. “Well, well. Look who decided to drop by.”

Jinx grinned, stepping inside and setting the cupcake box down with a dramatic thud. “Brought you something. Figured you could use a little sugar in your life.”

Vi arched a brow, eyeing the box suspiciously. “Is it poisoned ?”

Jinx gasped, placing a hand over her heart. “I’m offended.”

Caitlyn sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “What do you want, Jinx ?”

Jinx plopped down in a chair, kicking her feet up on the desk just to be annoying. “Can’t a girl just visit her darling sister and her totally-not-boring girlfriend ?”

Vi rolled her eyes but pulled the box closer, cracking it open. Inside were two cupcakes, a not so surprising choice. Vi smirked. “Let me guess. A favor to ask ?”

Jinx winked. “You know me so well.”

Caitlyn hesitated, then took the cupcake, studying it. “You didn’t lace it with explosives, did you ?”

Jinx gasped again, louder this time. “Wow. No trust. None.”

Vi snorted, already taking a bite of hers. “Well, if I drop dead, at least I’ll go happy.”

Jinx leaned back, watching them. For a moment, it almost felt normal.

Almost.

Jinx leaned back in the chair, arms crossed as Vi finished off her cupcake. The momentary ease in the air didn’t last long. It never did.

“So” she drawled, tilting her head. “Any updates on your dear colleague Marcus?”

Vi’s chewing slowed. She exchanged a glance with Caitlyn, who carefully set her half-eaten cupcake down.

“You’ve been sniffing around Marcus ?” Caitlyn asked, her voice steady, but there was an edge to it.

Jinx smirked. “Aren’t we all ?” She tapped the side of her head. “His name came up in Viktor’s file. You know the case I’m working on. Funny, right ? You wouldn’t think a high-ranking enforcer would have his fingerprints on a dead scientist.”

Vi wiped her hands on a napkin, sighing. “We haven’t found anything solid. Marcus’s quite famous, but nothing that ties him to Viktor.”

“Yet” Jinx corrected.

Caitlyn narrowed her eyes. “What do you know ?”

Jinx shrugged, playing it casual. “Nothing yet. But I’ve got a feeling he’s worth watching. And I know you two love a good mystery.” She tilted her head toward Caitlyn. “Especially you, cupcake.”

Caitlyn didn’t take the bait. “Marcus is careful. If he’s involved, it won’t be easy proving it. Last time I heard, it's still suicide, even if Jayce thinks otherwise.”

The storm outside hadn’t fully broken yet, but the distant rumble of thunder made the windows tremble slightly.

Reflecting for a few moments, Jinx straightened up, as if an idea had just crossed her mind. “By the way, nobody checked his body, did they ?”

Caitlyn exhaled through her nose, fingers laced together in thought. “No we usually don’t do them when a suicide is obvious.” She paused. “You’re asking for an autopsy ?”

Jinx nodded. “Yeah. Since no one bothered doing one the first time.”

Caitlyn’s brow furrowed. “Jinx, it’s been more than a week.”

Jinx scoffed, leaning back. “Yeah, I know. Not ideal, but that’s kinda the point. Okay, there was a note and no signs of resistance or breaking in but still shouldn’t there have been one ? He was famous !”

Vi sighed. “Jinx—”

Jinx cut her off, eyes flicking to Caitlyn. “You’re a councilor’s daughter and an Enforcer. Can you pull something ? Even if it’s been days ?”

Caitlyn looked down, thoughtful. “It’s… difficult.” She hesitated, then met Jinx’s gaze. “But I’ll do what I can.”

Jinx tilted her head, studying her. “You sure, Cupcake ?”

Caitlyn’s lips twitched at the nickname, but her voice remained firm. “I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t.”

Vi huffed. “Alright, great. Now can we talk about how this job of yours is gonna get you killed ?”

Jinx rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t quite hide the small smirk forming at the corner of her lips. “You’re so dramatic.”

Outside, thunder rolled closer.

Jinx took the opening, ignoring the concern she heard in her sister's comment “While we’re talking about Viktor, I’ve got another question.” She shifted her gaze between them. “Did either of you know he was sick ?”

Caitlyn hesitated. “I knew of him. He was well-respected, but we weren’t exactly close. I heard of him through Jayce only. I heard whispers that he wasn’t well, but nothing official.”

Vi frowned. “Jayce never talked about it ?”

“Not that I know of,” Caitlyn said. “But if Viktor was sick, it’s possible he kept it private.”

Jinx hummed, processing that. “And what do you think about Jayce ?”

Vi shrugged. “The pretty boy ? He’s not my type, but I guess he’s smart.”

“Not what I meant.” Jinx leaned in. “I mean, do you think he’s hiding something ? Is he behaving murdery ?”

Vi chuckled at Jinx's expression, to which Jinx rolled her eyes. Caitlyn ignored their interaction, lost in her hesitation, fingers drumming against her arm. “Jayce is ambitious. He’s got the council, the research, the politics, he balances a lot. But I don’t think he’s a liar.”

 As if she wanted to show her conviction, she took a deep breath to speak with confidence “He’s a good person.”

“Then you think Viktor actually did it ? Killed himself ?” Jinx asked, voice quieter.

Caitlyn didn’t answer right away. Neither did Vi.

Finally, Caitlyn said, “I don’t want to think that. But I also don’t know what was going through his head before he died. If his illness you’re talking about was…fatal, it could lead to depressing thoughts, I guess.”

Jinx leaned back against the couch, pensive, stretching her arms behind her head as she watched Caitlyn pull out her notebook, no doubt already working through the logistics of arranging an autopsy.

“Anyway” Jinx drawled, her tone casual, “I’m not exactly sitting on my ass waiting for results. “I’ve been working the case.”

Vi raised an eyebrow. “Yeah ? With who ?”

Jinx hesitated for half a second, which was too long for someone who usually worked solo.

Vi caught it immediately, her expression shifting into something annoyingly smug. “Wait. Don’t tell me you’re working with—” Her grin widened. “Oh. Ohhh. The Firelights huh ? Is this with the same guy who made you screw up a case a while back ?”

Jinx’s whole body tensed. “What ? No. Shut up.” God how she hated the fact that apart from her company, his was the only other name that could come up. 

Caitlyn looked between them, interested now. “What case ?”

Vi smirked. “Some Firelights detective. Jinx was tailing a guy for a case but he was on it too. She was super confident about it before but when she found the guy, Firelight pulled some “trick”, she lost her target. She wouldn’t shut up about it for days.”

Jinx groaned. “I didn’t lose the target. I just—ugh, whatever. It doesn’t matter.”

Vi grinned, relentless. “Wait, so that’s him ? You’re working with that guy ?”

Jinx crossed her arms, avoiding eye contact. “I work with a lot of people.” A lie so big it wasn't even believable for a second. The only person she worked with was Sevika, and working wasn't even the right word to describe their relationship.

Caitlyn tilted her head. “She didn’t deny it.”

Vi’s smirk turned wicked. “So the hottie huh ?”

Jinx nearly choked. “Excuse me ?”

Vi laughed. “You know, the one with the” she gestured vaguely, “the whole broody genius thing going on. The one you cursed at least a hundred times. ”

Jinx’s face heated. “He is not hot.”

Caitlyn and Vi exchanged a glance.

Vi grinned. “You totally think he’s hot.”

Jinx shot up from her seat. “I’m leaving.”

Vi called after her, still laughing. “Just admit it Jinx !”

Jinx slammed the door on her way out, her heart hammering way harder than it should have.

Jinx stepped out of the station, the weight of the conversation still buzzing in her head. Viktor’s illness. Jayce’s guilt. The autopsy. Too many threads, not enough answers.

She pulled her coat tighter, ready to lose herself in Zaun’s streets, until she caught a glimpse of something familiar.

Ekko. Just when her sister had mentioned his name earlier, she had to bump into him in the street.

He was across the street, hood up, walking with purpose. Too focused. Too deliberate. Mysterious. It piqued her interest.

Jinx smirked. Now, what are you up to, Firelight ?

Without thinking, she fell into step behind him, keeping a careful distance. Ekko knew the city well, but so did she. This wasn’t the first time she’d tailed someone, and it wouldn’t be the last.

She watched his movements, the way he glanced around, not paranoid, just aware. He was looking for something. Or someone.

And Jinx ?

She was looking for trouble.

And Ekko ? Well, he was leading her right to it. At least, that's what she thought , and she had never been further from the truth.

Jinx kept to the shadows, boots splashing against the wet pavement as she followed Ekko through the winding streets of Zaun. The first raindrop landed, darkening the cracked pavement. Then another. A slow, deliberate rhythm. The storm was coming, and when it hit, it wouldn’t be gentle. If the rain had started as a drizzle, now it was pounding against the rooftops, the gutters overflowing, the air thick with the scent of damp metal and city grime. 

Ekko pulled his hood tighter, shoulders hunched against the downpour, but he didn’t break stride. He was heading home.

Realising, Jinx tilted her head, considering. Obviously, he was boring. She should have known he wouldn't do anything exciting. She breathed out of annoyance, disappointed. She should turn back. Should call it a night, go home, watch the rain, maybe shoot some cans off the rooftops to blow off steam while heading home.

But instead, she kept moving. 

A gust of wind howled through the alleyways, rattling signs and shaking loose tarps. Thunder rumbled overhead, a low growl that vibrated in her chest. A big one was coming.

Ekko paused at a street corner, glancing up at the flickering streetlamp. For a second, he looked tired. Not just from the rain or the long day, but something deeper.

Jinx frowned. Why the hell did he always look like a beaten dog ?

Before she could decide whether to reveal herself or keep watching, lightning split the sky, turning the streets into a blinding silver for a heartbeat. The following crack of thunder shook the ground beneath her feet.

And then, just as the light faded, Ekko turned.

His sharp eyes locked onto her across the street.

Jinx froze.

Busted.

The air was heavy, thick with the scent of rain. Overhead, the sky churned, deep purples and grays swirling like paint smeared across a canvas. The distant rumble of thunder echoed through the streets, a low warning growl that sent shivers up spines and made lamps flicker uncertainly. The rain was getting heavier and heavier. The lightning seemed to be warning of a downpour that would not end for a long time.

Zaun felt different under skies like this, restless, charged, waiting . The wind howled through the alleyways, rattling loose metal sheets and sending scraps of paper dancing like restless ghosts. Each gust carried the promise of something big, something unstoppable.

Ekko didn’t look surprised to see her, just tired.

The rain clung to his skin, dripping from his lashes as he studied her from across the street. Jinx was already forming an excuse in her head. Something clever. Something sharp.

But before she could say a word, Ekko sighed, running a hand down his soaked face. “You done sneaking around, or should I pretend I don’t see you ?”

Jinx smirked, flicking water from her sleeves. “Didn’t think you’d notice.”

Ekko gave her a flat look. “You’re about as subtle as a firework.”

She shrugged. Fair.

Ekko’s eyes locked onto her, rain dripping from his hood as he exhaled sharply through his nose. “So you done ?”

Jinx tilted her head, feigning innocence. “Done with what ?”

He gave her a deadpan stare. “Lurking. Watching. Being—” He gestured vaguely at her with a rain-soaked hand. “You.”

Jinx grinned, almost proud. “What can I say ? I live for mystery.”

Ekko huffed, rubbing a hand down his face. The rain was getting worse, wind howling through the alleyways, making metal sheets groan. Lightning carved through the sky, turning the streets to silver for a heartbeat.

Jinx wasn’t leaving, that much was clear. And Ekko wasn’t going to waste his breath telling her to. Instead, he shook his head, muttering under his breath. “You’re gonna get yourself killed standing out here.”

Jinx raised a brow, grinning. “Didn’t know you cared.”

Ekko rolled his eyes. “I don’t. I just don’t feel like fishing your half-frozen ass out of a gutter later.” He turned, waving a lazy hand over his shoulder as he started walking again. “I’m heading home. You can stand there and drown, or—” He hesitated, grumbling something under his breath before adding, “—or you can walk. Not my problem.”

Jinx raised an eyebrow. “That an invite?”

He didn’t look back. “Call it whatever you want.”

She watched him for a second, the way his shoulders hunched slightly against the cold, the way he kept his stride casual, like he wasn’t offering her something. Jinx hesitated, just for a second, then, smirking to herself, she fell into step beside him. After all, a little warmth never hurt anybody. That promised to be fun.

“Alright, alright. Since you’re begging.”

Ekko snorted. “You’re impossible.”

Jinx just grinned. “And you love it.”

The moment Ekko pushed open his apartment door, the weight of his mistake hit him.

Jinx strolled in like she owned the place, shaking rain from her arms and immediately snooping around. Like a stray cat that you fed once and now won’t leave.

Ekko sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. Yeah. He regretted this already.

Jinx whistled low, looking around. “Huh. Kinda expected more… I dunno. Gears ? Junk ?”

Ekko shrugged off his soaked hoodie, tossing it onto a chair. “Sorry to disappoint.”

She wandered over to his desk, fingers trailing over scattered blueprints, files and notes. “Damn. Messy, though. I thought you were more the uptight, psychorigid type who tidied everything up.”

Ekko narrowed his eyes. “Don’t touch my stuff.”

Jinx held her hands up, mock offense written all over her face. “What, me ? Never.”

Thunder rumbled outside, rattling the windows. The storm was raging now, sheets of rain pounding against the city. No way she was leaving anytime soon.

Ekko sighed through his teeth. What the hell had he just done ?

Jinx, meanwhile, flopped onto his couch like she belonged there, stretching out with a smirk. “Well, since I’m stuck here, what’s for dinner ?”

Ekko groaned. “I swear to god.”

Ekko gritted his teeth as he watched Jinx casually stretch out on his couch, his dry new couch, the one that costed him a bit too much, soaking it through with her rain-drenched clothes.

“Really ?” He crossed his arms, trying not to focus on the way the fabric clung to her, turning her usual cropped tank top nearly transparent. The dim light of his apartment didn’t do much to hide how her skin peeked through.

Nope. Not thinking about that.

He cleared his throat, shifting his weight. “You’re dripping everywhere, dumbass. Go shower before you give my couch a complex.”

Jinx arched a brow, lips twitching. “A complex ?”

Ekko rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Like, I dunno, abandonment issues. Since I’ll have to throw it out after this.”

She snorted, sitting up. “Dramatic.”

“Says the girl who’s one lightning strike away from turning my apartment into a biohazard.” He jerked his chin toward the bathroom. “Go. Before I hose you down myself.”

Jinx grinned, clearly enjoying his irritation, but stood anyway. She flicked some water at him on her way to the bathroom, because of course she did.

Ekko exhaled hard through his nose once the door shut behind her.

Shit.

This night was already getting out of hand.

Jinx pulled at the damp fabric clinging to her skin, peeling it away piece by piece, letting it fall in a heap by her feet. The air in Ekko’s bathroom was warm, slightly humid from past showers, and carried the faint scent of whatever soap he used, something crisp, clean, with a hint of spice underneath.

She ran a hand through her dripping braids, sighing as she began undoing them. Strand by strand, the tension unraveled, her hair falling loose and wavy over her shoulders. She shook it out, letting it breathe for the first time in what felt like forever.

Her gaze drifted across the small space, taking in the little details. The mirror above the sink was clean, a cracked tile near the floor told her this place wasn’t exactly new. But it was his.

Bottles of shampoo and body wash lined the shelf in the shower, their labels smudged from frequent use. She eyed them with mild curiosity. Ekko didn't seem like the type to care much about scents, but his choices said otherwise. One was something herbal, maybe tea tree, sharp and fresh. Another had hints of citrus, and a third, tucked in the corner, smelled vaguely like woodsmoke. Interesting.

Jinx exhaled, tilting her head back. The storm outside roared on, wind howling against the window, but in here, it was quiet. She reached for the shower head, letting the water rush warm over her fingers before stepping in, bracing herself for the heat.

Jinx ran her fingers through her loosened hair, shaking it out as she considered her options. Her eyes flitted over the bottles in the shower, lips quirking as she read the labels. Tea tree ? Too sharp. Citrus ? Too clean. Woodsmoke ? What is he, a campfire ?

Then she spotted something unexpected, a bottle shoved slightly behind the rest, the label nearly faded. She picked it up, popping the cap to take a sniff. Vanilla and amber ? Her eyebrows lifted in amusement. Didn’t peg Ekko for the sweet type.

With a smirk, she lathered some between her palms, massaging it into her scalp. The rich scent filled the air, warm and strangely comforting. She let herself relax under the water, eyes half-lidded as the heat worked away the lingering chill from the storm.

Then, realization hit.

“Hey, I need a towel or something !” she called out, leaning toward the door but making no move to actually step out. “Unless you want me walking around your place like this ?”

The silence that followed was almost comical, and she could feel Ekko regretting every life choice that led to this moment.

Jinx hummed as she dried off, rubbing the towel over her arms before wrapping it around herself. The shower had helped shake off the storm’s chill, but she was still feeling a little too pleased with herself. Ekko was easy to rile up, too easy, really. But that just made it fun.

She stepped out of the bathroom, steam curling around her as she padded into the main room, water still dripping from the ends of her hair.

Ekko was exactly where she had left him, though in dry comfortable clothes, sitting on the arm of his couch, looking like he regretted every life decision that had led to this moment. His arms were crossed, head tilted back, eyes shut like he was mentally somewhere far away from here.

Jinx smirked. “You always let wet girls wander around your place, or am I just special ?”

Ekko’s eyes snapped open. The second he saw her standing there, bare feet, towel barely clinging to her frame, hair loose and dripping, he visibly tensed.

“Seriously ?” he groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You couldn’t put on your damn clothes first ?”

Jinx grinned, enjoying how his discomfort manifested in the sharp edge of his voice, the way he looked anywhere but at her. “Didn’t think you’d be so shy, Firelight.”

“I’m not shy,” he shot back, standing abruptly and turning his back to her. “Just put your clothes on before I kick you out into the storm.”

“Wow, so chivalrous.” She snorted. She took her sweet time observing him, as if feeding off his unease and irritation. “My clothes are soaked. Give me some.”

Ekko exhaled through his nose, shaking his head like he was recalibrating his patience. Without saying a word, as if he was devastated by every word he exchanged with her, he went to her room, taking a pair of pyjama bottoms and a long-sleeved top. That would do. When he came out he threw them at her before turning his back to her.

She caught them, a satisfied smile on her lips. “Relax, you’re acting like I’m not doing you a favor just by being here.”

Ekko scoffed, still facing away. “Right. Because you sneaking around in the rain and then hijacking my shower is somehow helping me. Go change now.”

Although she would never have admitted it, given how amused she was by his reactions, she felt more comfortable dressed, so had complied without a fight with his request. She went quickly to the bathroom to change before coming back. She was floating in the clothes he had given her, but they were quite comfortable. 

She approached him, smug. “You say that like you didn’t invite me in.”

“That was before I knew I’d regret it.”

“Oh, so you do regret it ?” She stepped closer, smirking when she saw the way his shoulders tensed.

Ekko huffed, finally turning around to face her, eyes scanning her now properly clothed form like he was double-checking. “I regret a lot of things.”

Jinx grinned. “But not bringing me in ?”

He rolled his eyes and walked past her, heading toward the kitchen. “Don’t push your luck.”

“So” she mused, leaning against the counter as Ekko poured some tea like he wasn’t still mentally screaming. “What now ?”

Ekko exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Now ? You explain why the hell you were following me.”

Jinx grinned, tapping a finger against her temple. “You’re interesting.”

Ekko leveled her with a look. “Yeah no shit.”

She shrugged. “Thought you’d appreciate the company.”

Ekko just sighed, shaking his head as he handed her a cup. It was almost automatic to serve her a cup of tea, all because of Heimerdinger's frequent visits. Who, incidentally, was the only person to drink the tea he had offered him because vervain was said to be good for headache and stress. The gift itself was touching, despite his distaste for tea, something the Yordle was trying to change by all means. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t get too comfortable.”

Jinx was a little surprised by the familiar atmosphere that was developing and his gestures, which did not match his actions, but made no comment on them, simply taking the cup, tilting her head at him. “No promises.”

He sighed again, a small smile forming on his lips in spite of himself before looking at her. Ekko had been trying very hard not to stare, he was after all a gentleman.

But it was impossible not to notice the way Jinx’s long, unbraided hair clung to her, the strands darker and heavier with rain. It was strange seeing it loose. It made her look softer, almost unfamiliar.

And it was everywhere. The small smile that was beginning to sprout on his lips began to fade straight away. He groaned, rubbing his temples. “Your hair is so wet.”

Jinx blinked at him over the rim of her cup. “Yeah ? No shit, Sherlock. It’s almost like I walked out of a shower.”

Ekko waved a hand at her. “No, I mean, it’s dripping all over my apartment. YI mopped the floor yesterday !”

Jinx tilted her head, amused. “That’s your biggest concern right now ?”

“Yes ! And also, dry your damn hair !”

Jinx snorted at his sudden urgency. “What, you got a thing about wet hair ?”

“I’ve got a thing about my stuff not getting soaked. You’re clearly not the one cleaning around here !” Ekko shot back. He pushed off the counter, already heading toward his bathroom. “Hold on, I have a—” He stopped mid-step, realization hitting him all at once.

Jinx arched an eyebrow. “A what ?”

Ekko groaned again, rubbing his face. “A… hair dryer.”

Jinx immediately smirked, because of course she did. “You ? Have a hair dryer ?”

Ekko scowled. “It’s not mine.”

Jinx leaned forward, grinning. “Ohhh, I see. It’s from one of your old conquests, huh ?”

Ekko stiffened. “Shut up.”

Jinx cackled. “No, no, this is great. Who was she ? Or he ?” 

Ekko turned on his heel, stomping off. “Not having this conversation.” Perhaps he was going to pour himself a cup of tea after all, given that giving his walking headache a headachekiller had clearly had no effect. 

Jinx, still grinning, leaned back against the couch. “Well, at least I know you have game. Not sure if I should be proud or disgusted.”

Ekko, rummaging through his bathroom cabinets, called back “Dry your damn hair, Jinx !”

She just laughed, waiting for him to return, her mug on the small table in front of the couch, the same one she was sitting on. His precious new couch. Wetting it. Again.

Ekko tossed the hair dryer next to her with a huff. “Here. Dry your hair before you flood my whole damn place.”

Jinx picked it up, turning it over in her hands like some foreign artifact. “Haven’t used one of these in a while” she mused. 

Ekko rolled his eyes. “Just get over it.”

Jinx smirked, flicking the dryer on, but the moment the warm air hit her, she frowned. “Ugh, this is annoying.”

Ekko shot her an incredulous look. “You’ve got patience for disarming bombs but not drying your own hair ?”

Jinx made a show of lazily waving the dryer around, barely hitting any strands. “This is boring.”

Ekko sighed, exasperated. “You’re doing it wrong.”

Jinx grinned, eyes gleaming. “Then you do it.”

Ekko froze. “What ?”

“You heard me.” She tossed the dryer back at him, flopping against the couch like she’d just won some grand battle. “You’re the one complaining. You fix it.”

Ekko stared at her, then at the hair dryer in his hands, then back at her again. “You cannot be serious.”

Jinx lifted an eyebrow. “Oh, I absolutely am.”

Ekko’s jaw tightened. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here you are.”

Ekko dragged a hand down his face but didn’t argue further. He shifted on the couch until he was sitting behind her, the space between them narrowing as he lifted the dryer.

The moment his fingers brushed against her hair, Jinx stilled.

Ekko hesitated, suddenly more aware of the moment than he wanted to be. Her hair was softer than he expected, the damp strands sliding through his fingers as he worked through them. He switched the dryer on, the low hum filling the room, but it barely masked the way his pulse had picked up.

Jinx didn’t say anything at first, letting him work. But then she spoke, her voice quieter than usual. “Didn’t think you’d actually do it.”

Ekko scoffed. “Yeah, well, someone’s gotta make sure my place doesn't become a pool.”

Jinx huffed, but it lacked its usual bite. He couldn’t see her face, but he could feel her relaxing against him, her sharp edges softened by the warmth.

His fingers combed through her hair, careful and steady, and he found himself slowing down, taking his time. There was something oddly intimate about it, not in a way that made him want to pull back, but in a way that made his chest feel strangely tight.

Jinx tilted her head slightly, just enough that her shoulder almost brushed his. “You’re good at this.”

Ekko swallowed. “Yeah, well. Maybe I’ve done it before.”

Jinx turned her head just enough to glance at him from the corner of her eye. “Oh ? For which conquest ?”

Ekko flicked the dryer off and smacked her lightly on the head with it. “You ruin everything.”

Jinx let out a full laugh this time, bright and unguarded, and Ekko hated the way it made something in his stomach twist.

The storm outside raged on, but here, in the warmth of his apartment, with Jinx leaning into him more than she probably realized. Ekko found that he didn’t mind the rain so much.

Ekko pressed his lips into a thin line and turned the dryer back on, refocusing on his task. The low hum filled the space between them, and he let himself get lost in the rhythmic motion of his fingers combing through her hair, guiding the warm air through the strands.

Jinx had stopped teasing him, stopped moving so much, just sitting there and letting him work. He wasn’t sure when it happened, but at some point, she leaned back slightly, just enough for her shoulder to press lightly against his chest.

He told himself he didn’t notice.

The strands softened under his touch, drying faster than he expected, and with each careful pass of his fingers, the space between them seemed to shrink. His movements slowed, dragging out the last few strokes, though he wasn’t sure why.

Jinx sighed, soft, almost content, and her head tilted ever so slightly to the side, exposing the curve of her neck.

Ekko’s fingers faltered.

His breath hitched, but he forced himself to keep going, the hair dryer feeling heavier in his grip than before.

He needed to stop. Say something. Make a joke. Do anything other than let the moment stretch between them, thick with something neither of them acknowledged.

But then Jinx shifted just enough that her lock of hair slipped from his hand, and when she turned her head slightly to glance back at him, her face was too close. He turned off the hairdryer and put it down.

She was too close.

He could see the way her lips were slightly parted, her cheeks reddened by the heat from the dryer, and her eyes searching his face like she was waiting for something.

The air in the room shifted.

His hand moved before he could stop it, fingers brushing against the side of her face, tucking a damp strand of hair behind her ear.

Jinx didn’t pull away.

Ekko swallowed hard.

The storm outside roared, the wind rattling the windows, the rain hammering against the glass, but all Ekko could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat.

His gaze flickered down to her lips.

And then—

Chapter Text

The lights flickered out with a sudden click, plunging the room into darkness.

For a moment, neither of them moved. The only sounds were the storm raging outside, the distant rumble of thunder died completely.

“Seriously ?” Jinx muttered.

Ekko exhaled sharply through his nose, barely resisting the urge to smack his forehead. Perfect. Just perfect.

A second passed. Two. His hand was still near her face. She hadn’t moved.

He needed to step back. Say something. Do something.

But before he could, Jinx snorted. “Didn’t peg you as the dramatic type,” she teased, tilting her head toward where she thought he was. “You’re pulling a move on me, or is the power just that bad in your fancy-ass apartment ?”

Ekko scoffed, stepping away —definitely not rushing— to put distance between them. “Yeah, real smooth of me. I totally planned a blackout to set the mood.”

Jinx laughed, the sound light and unbothered. “Hey I’ve seen worse setups.”

Ekko shook his head, even though she probably couldn’t see it. “Hold on, I’ll grab my phone or something.”

Ekko turned, only to nearly trip over the damn hair dryer cord. He caught himself at the last second, but Jinx had already heard it.

She whistled low. “You alright there, charmer ?”

“Shut up.”

Her laugh followed him as he navigated through the dark, making his way toward the small table where he’d left his phone earlier. He felt around blindly for a second before his fingers brushed against the smooth surface. A quick tap, and the screen lit up, casting a dim, bluish glow over the room.

Jinx squinted against the sudden light, her hair now fully dry but messily draped over her shoulders. She raised a brow at him. “So what now ?”

Ekko rubbed the back of his neck, trying, failing , not to think about how close they had just been. How close he had been to…

He cut off the thought before it could finish.

“Well,” he started, keeping his voice even, “the storm’s still going strong, and the power’s out. So unless you wanna head back out into that mess—” He nodded toward the rain-streaked window.

Jinx stretched, looking far too comfortable for someone crashing in his space. “Guess I’m stuck with you, then.”

Ekko huffed, rolling his eyes. “Lucky me.”

But the words lacked their usual bite.

And when Jinx smirked at him, the soft glow of the phone casting just enough light to highlight the mischievous glint in her eyes, Ekko had a sinking feeling that the real storm wasn’t the one outside. Ekko leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching Jinx as she lounged on his couch. The storm outside raged on, wind rattling the windows, rain hitting the glass in heavy sheets. The only light in the room came from a few candles he had managed to find, their glow casting flickering shadows along the walls.

“So,” Jinx drawled, stretching out like she belonged there, “you got anything to eat ?”

Ekko scoffed. “You realize there’s no power, right ?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, genius, but I figured you might have some secret stash of real food. Something that doesn’t taste like cardboard.”

Ekko pushed off the counter, shaking his head as he rummaged through a drawer. “You’re outta luck.” He grabbed a protein bar and tossed it at her.

Jinx caught it, turning it over in her hands with an unimpressed look. “Seriously ?”

“Take it or leave it.”

She groaned, peeling the wrapper anyway. “You are the worst host.”

Ekko smirked. “You’re the worst guest.”

Jinx made an exaggerated face as she chewed, then swallowed and waved vaguely at the candles. “What’s with the mood lighting ?”

“Figured you’d prefer this over sitting in the dark.”

She hummed, watching the flames flicker for a moment before leaning forward, resting her elbows on her knees.

“I need to talk to you about the case.”

Ekko exhaled, already sensing where this was going. “Figured as much.”

Jinx hesitated, tapping a finger against the half-eaten bar. “Viktor was sick.”

Ekko frowned. “Sick how ?”

“Some kind of degenerative disease.” Jinx tilted her head, watching his reaction. “From what I’ve heard, it was bad. The kind you don’t just walk away from.”

Ekko’s chest tightened. Viktor was sick ? That wasn’t something he had ever considered.

Jinx studied him. “You didn’t know.”

“No.” Ekko shook his head, running a hand over his hair. “But if that’s true, then... I need to talk to Heimerdinger.”

Jinx raised an eyebrow. “Think he’d tell you ?”

“If anyone knew, it’d be him.” Ekko crossed his arms, staring at the candlelight as he turned things over in his head.

Jinx watched him for a long moment before leaning back, exhaling through her nose. “So, what do you think ? If he was sick, does that mean he—”

Ekko looked up. “You mean do I think he killed himself ?”

She didn’t answer right away.

Ekko sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know, Jinx. But if he was that sick, it... makes it harder to say for sure.”

Jinx frowned, clearly unsatisfied. “It’s not that simple.”

“Nothing ever is.”

For a moment, they sat there in silence, the rain against the windows the only sound between them. The flickering candlelight softened the sharp edges of the room, casting long shadows across the walls.

Ekko finally exhaled. “I’ll talk to Heimer.”

Jinx nodded, but her expression stayed unreadable. She wasn’t letting this go. And neither was he.

Jinx shifted on the couch, stretching her legs out and inching a little closer to where Ekko sat on the armrest. She wasn’t looking at him, her gaze fixed on the candle in front of them, watching the way the flame swayed with the air currents in the room. The storm outside had settled into a steady rhythm, the rain drumming against the windows like a heartbeat.

“I keep going over it,” she murmured, more to herself than to him. “The case, the way it all wrapped up so fast.”

Ekko hummed, arms resting on his knees, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

“I mean, if Viktor was sick, if he knew it was gonna get worse…” Jinx trailed off, pressing her lips together. “Maybe I’m making a big deal out of nothing. But then there’s his handwriting.” She tapped a finger against her knee. “ If he was having an episode, coughing or struggling, it should’ve changed a little, right ?”

Ekko exhaled, tilting his head back against the wall. “Maybe, but you know I talked to Marcus. He admitted some interesting things.”

Jinx finally turned her head slightly, her expression unreadable in the candlelight. “Oh ?”

“He confirmed the council wanted the case closed fast.” Ekko’s voice was calm, but there was something edged in it. “With Viktor’s inventions, his work—it all had to be examined quickly. No time to waste, no time to question. At least we’re sure that the council is acting suspicious for a reason but concerning the death itself, frankly I don’t know.” He let out a dry chuckle. “Maybe I’m thinking too much, too. If he was sick, then…” He shook his head. “It makes sense, doesn’t it ?”

Jinx stayed quiet for a long moment. The candle flickered between them, their shadows swaying along the walls.

“Sense doesn’t always mean truth, but I can't help thinking that him killing himself might be a possibility now.” she finally said.

Ekko looked at her then, at the way her face was cast half in shadow, half in golden light. She wasn’t saying everything. That much was obvious. But he didn’t push. But it seemed Jinx wasn't planning on stopping talking about the case just yet. A workaholic despite appearances huh ? 

She exhaled, still watching the flame flicker. “It’s weird, y’know ? When you think you have all the pieces, then something shifts, and suddenly the whole picture is different.”

Ekko glanced at her. “We’re still at the beginning. It’s a good thing we found this information. We’ll figure out the whole picture, just a matter of time.”

She nodded slowly. “Him being sick… It changes things. It was a key piece of information, but nowhere to be found on paper. On physical evidence. Makes me wonder how much of his life is hiding in the dark.”

Ekko frowned, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe we’re overthinking it because of professional deformation.” 

Jinx scoffed. “Overthinking ? No way.”

Ekko shot her a look. “Says the woman who followed me in the rain instead of just asking me what I was up to.”

Jinx shrugged. “Maybe I just like the chase.”

Ekko groaned. “You have to stop.”

She snickered, stretching her arms above her head before settling back down. She looked more relaxed than before, maybe because of exhaustion, or maybe because even if she would never admit it, talking about it with someone who understood and knew almost as much as she did made her heart a little lighter despite the storm in her head 

She moved again, turning her head fully to him, resting her cheek against the couch. “Y’know,” she said, voice lighter now, “for a rival, you’re not as annoying as I remember.”

Ekko smirked, leaning forward slightly. “Oh yeah ?”

She waved a hand lazily. “Maybe it’s the storm. Or the lack of power. Or the fact that if I actually tried to argue with you right now, I’d just get cozy and fall asleep.”

Ekko scoffed. “So what, you’re saying I’m boring ?”

Jinx grinned, eyes lidding slightly. “Nah. Just that I could ignore you. If I wanted.”

Ekko huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Right. And yet here you are.”

“Here I am” she echoed, watching the candle again.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The rain outside softened, the wind still howling but distant, like it belonged to another world. It was strange, sitting here like this, the usual sharp edges between them dulled by the storm, by the dark, by the small space they shared. It felt like time had stopped, like none of it would matter when the sun rose.

And maybe, just for tonight, that was fine.

The rain continued its steady rhythm against the windows, the candle between them flickering, casting soft shadows that danced along the walls. The storm outside felt distant now, muffled by the thick blankets and the quiet that had settled over them.

Ekko leaned his head back against the couch, exhaling through his nose. "You sure you don’t wanna sleep on the floor ? I could set you up a nice little spot, real cozy.”

Jinx scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Oh, so now you wanna be a gentleman ?”

He smirked. “Hey, I’m just saying. You take up a lot of space for someone so small.”

Jinx kicked his shin lightly under the blanket. “I take up the space I deserve.”

Ekko chuckled, rubbing his leg. "Right, right. Queen-sized ego, got it."

She grinned. "And don't you forget it."

A comfortable silence settled between them for a few moments, just the sound of the rain filling the space. Jinx shifted, resting her head against the couch, watching the candle’s flame sway.

“So” she mused, “you work all the time, huh ?”

Ekko stretched, resting an arm along the back of the couch, trying to act cool with the fact she was trying to get to know him when it certainly made his heart beat faster than it should. “Something like that.”

Jinx smirked. “No thrilling hobbies ? No secret double life ?”

He tilted his head at her. “You're not as good a stalker as I thought.”

Jinx huffed. “That was work-related.”

“Uh-huh.”

She jabbed a finger at him. “Besides, you invited me in. So really, this is on you.”

Ekko scoffed, shaking his head. “Next time, I’ll leave you out in the storm.”

“Next time ?” Jinx wiggled her eyebrows. “So you’re expecting to take me home again ?”

Ekko groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You are impossible.”

She grinned, clearly satisfied with herself. They let the conversation drift for a while, the teasing settling into something quieter, more thoughtful. The candle’s glow softened the sharp edges of their usual banter, leaving something that almost felt… easy. The warmth of the blankets, the candlelight, the steady rhythm of the rain, it made everything feel softer, less like a rivalry, more like something… else.

Ekko exhaled, getting up to grab another blanket from the closet. “Here.”

Jinx blinked at him. “Oh ? Are you tucking me in, Firefly ?”

Ekko rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, real cute.” He threw the blanket over himself before sitting back down.

Jinx smirked but didn’t push it further, just shifted a little closer, though not enough to touch.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then, without really thinking, Ekko muttered, “Night, Jinx.”

She hesitated, just for a second, before replying, “Night, Firefly.”

The storm carried on outside, but in here, wrapped in blankets and candlelight, it felt still.

And eventually, they both drifted off.

Jinx stirred, her senses slowly coming back to her as the soft morning light filtered through the window. The rhythmic pattern of rain had stopped, leaving only the distant sound of dripping water and the occasional gust of wind outside. The storm was over.

She blinked groggily, her body warm, comfortable, too comfortable . That’s when she realized.

Ekko’s arm was draped over her waist.

Her breath hitched, and she froze.

They had fallen asleep on the couch, that much she remembered. But at some point, this had happened. His body was warm against her back, his breathing slow and steady. His grip wasn’t tight, just… there, resting, like it belonged.

Jinx swallowed, her mind scrambling. Okay. Okay. No big deal. Just move.

Carefully, she started to shift, inching her body forward in slow, controlled movements. Just don’t wake him up, and it’s like this never happened.

She barely made it a few inches before his arm tightened slightly.

Jinx stilled, eyes widening. Oh, come on .

She waited. Listened. His breathing stayed even. Asleep.

Biting her lip, she tried again, this time maneuvering a little differently, attempting to slide out from under his arm instead of just pulling away. But the moment she moved, his fingers curled slightly, brushing against the fabric of her shirt. Jinx nearly jumped out of her skin.

Why the hell is this happening ?

She could feel the heat creeping up her neck, her face warming with every second that passed. It’s just Ekko. It’s just sleeping. It’s not a big deal—

But it was a big deal. Because her heart was pounding, and her mind was racing, and for some stupid reason, she couldn’t bring herself to move any faster.

Carefully, she tried once more, holding her breath as she slid just a little further—

The floor creaked.

Jinx froze.

Ekko stirred.

Her heart stopped.

In reality, Ekko woke up the second Jinx moved. His senses kicked in before his body did, her warmth shifting away, the slow and careful way she tried to slip from his grasp. Instinct had nearly made him tighten his hold, but he caught himself in time, keeping his breathing steady, pretending to still be lost in sleep. But internally ? Oh, he was wide awake.

His heart pounded, a rush of panic shooting through him before his brain caught up. She was leaving. Why was she leaving ? His mind scrambled, then slowed when he realized, she wasn’t trying to bolt out the door. No, she was being careful, delicate even, like she didn’t want to wake him.The realization made something shift in his chest.

So, he stayed still. Just listening. Waiting. And that’s when he heard it, her breathing, just the slightest bit uneven. Not loud, not exaggerated, but noticeable enough to someone who knew how to listen.

She was flustered.

Oh, Ekko thought, biting back a smirk, this was interesting. This is sweet revenge. So she could be flustered too, after all.

She had made his heart race all last night, playing it cool while he tried to act like drying her hair hadn’t felt... different. And now ? Now she was the one thrown off. Even if she didn’t know he was awake, he knew. And that ? That was good enough. He stayed perfectly still as she finally slipped away and got up. There was some rustling, then the quiet creak of the bathroom door opening and closing.

When he finally cracked his eyes open, the soft glow of morning bathed the apartment in gentle light. He let out a slow breath, waiting until the bathroom door clicked shut before shifting to stretch.

He should probably get up. But damn, the couch was still warm from where she’d been.

Jinx, meanwhile, leaned against the sink, exhaling sharply. She caught her own reflection in the mirror, hair still a mess from the night before, his sweat hanging loosely on her. It was comfortable. Too comfortable. She shook the thought away and quickly pulled her own pants back on.

She should leave his clothes here. He would probably want them back.

…She kept them anyway.

When she stepped back into the living room, Ekko was still asleep, at least, that’s what she assumed. She watched him for a moment, arms folded behind his head, his face calm in sleep.

She sighed, rubbing at her temples. What the hell am I doing ?

Her mind drifted back to Vi’s words.

"You totally think he’s hot"

Jinx had scoffed, denied it instantly, but now, watching him like this, hearing the echo of her sister’s voice, she felt the heat creeping up her neck again.

Shit. He was hot.

She huffed and looked away.

Last night had been the best sleep she’d had in a long time. Maybe in years. But that didn’t mean anything.

…Right ?

Jinx stood at the door, fingers curled around the handle, foot already half out. Leaving without a word would be easy. Clean. No weird expectations, no unnecessary gratitude. It’s not like they were friends.

And yet…

Her grip tightened. Something about it felt wrong. He hadn’t been a complete ass, even when she had been. He let her in, put up with her, even dried her damn hair. It was more kindness than she usually got.

But thanking Ekko of all people ? That left a bad taste in her mouth.

Jinx groaned, running a hand down her face before pivoting back toward the coffee table. She snatched a napkin from the stack, grabbed the pen he’d left lying around, and tapped it against her lip, thinking.

Then, with a smirk, she scrawled:

So, Firefly… I know where you live now. 

Sleep tight.

She paused, then, just to be a little less of a menace, added:

P.S. Keeping the clothes. Consider it your fault.

Satisfied, she folded the napkin carefully set it right on his chest. If he didn’t notice it first thing, that was on him. With one last glance at his sleeping face, she slipped out the door, feeling both triumphant and mildly annoyed at herself for even bothering.

The soft click of the door closing barely faded before Ekko cracked one eye open. He reached lazily for the napkin resting on his chest, unfolding it with a flick of his fingers. His brows lifted as he read, then he let out a short, amused laugh, shaking his head.

The audacity. It was so her.

Ekko sat up, running a hand over his face, the remnants of sleep still clinging to his limbs. He rubbed the back of his neck, grinning as he read the postscript. Keeping the clothes, huh ? Figures. He should’ve known she’d pull something like that. The idea that she had something of his at her home, that showed that the night they had spent together as...allies ? People who tolerated each other, at least, was quite amusing, making him smile.

He stretched his arms over his head, back popping as he stood. The air was thick with the scent of rain, the storm having passed, leaving the city damp and quiet in the early morning. Rolling his shoulders, he ran a hand through his locs and made his way to the bathroom. The day was starting whether he liked it or not.

Meanwhile, across the city, Jinx slipped through the rain-slicked streets, moving fast. She had made it back before the sun fully broke through the clouds, her mind still half-distracted by the lingering warmth of a good night’s sleep. It had been a while since she felt that at ease. But that thought died the moment she pushed open her apartment door.

Silco was there, sitting in one of her chairs, waiting.

Jinx froze mid-step, blinking as she took in the sight of her adoptive father settled in her mess of an apartment, his gaze sharp even in the dim morning light. His presence wasn’t unexpected —he had a habit of appearing when she least anticipated— but something about the weight of his stare made her grip the door handle just a little tighter.

"You're up early" He remarked, his voice smooth as ever, though there was something knowing in the way he said it.

Oh shit.

Her stomach flipped as her brain caught up with the situation, her father, here, staring at her while she stood in the doorway wearing men’s clothes. She glanced down at herself, at the too big sweat she was floating in, her messy hair barely masking the evidence that she hadn’t spent the night at home. The realization hit like a punch to the gut.

Her face heated up so fast she thought she might combust.

Silco’s mismatched eyes swept over her, slow and considering, before flicking up to meet hers again. He wasn’t angry. That was worse.

“You’re up early,” Jinx swallowed, shifting her weight. “Uh—so are you,” she shot back, but her usual bite was missing. She felt caught, and she hated it.

Silco leaned back slightly, studying her, one gloved finger tapping against the armrest. “I had business to tend to” he said, tone casual. “Though, it seems I’m not the only one.”

Jinx’s fingers curled around the hem of the shirt, suddenly hyper-aware of how obviously not hers it was. Damn it, Ekko.

“I was working,” she muttered, defensive but avoiding his gaze. “Kinda.”

Silco hummed, unimpressed but not accusatory. He tilted his head, eyes sharp despite the early hour. “I don’t recall your investigation requiring a wardrobe change.”

Jinx hated how he always saw through her. She crossed her arms, gripping at the sleeves, as if she could make the evidence disappear by sheer will. "It was raining,” she said, as if that explained everything.

Silco exhaled through his nose, somewhere between amusement and exasperation. Then, instead of pressing, he simply leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His gaze softened, just a fraction

Silco sat in the only chair in her apartment that wasn’t covered in clothes or a mess she’d meant to clean up days ago. His hands were steepled together, elbows resting lightly on the armrests, watching her with the same piercing patience he always had.

“You’re well ?” he asked, voice calm but carrying an undertone of something deeper, concern, maybe, though he’d never frame it that way.

Jinx stiffened, the unfamiliar scent of someone else’s laundry soap clinging to her skin as she recalled her too good sleep. She crossed her arms, schooling her face into something neutral. “Yeah. Just tired.”

Silco studied her for a moment before shifting gears. “And the investigation ?”

Jinx exhaled, rubbing the back of her neck. “Still working on it,” she muttered, before deciding there was no point in skirting around it. “I asked Caitlyn for help getting an autopsy done on Viktor’s body.”

Silco didn’t react immediately, but she could feel the weight of his silence. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, thoughtful.

“And if it succeeds ?” He tilted his head slightly. “If you find something inconvenient ?”

Jinx frowned. “Then we’d have proof something’s off. That it wasn’t just a suicide.”

Silco’s expression didn’t change, but there was something knowing in his gaze. “And you think that will open doors ?”

She bristled. “Isn’t that the point ? Finding the truth ? As the client asked ?”

Silco leaned forward slightly, his tone still level, but now laced with something heavier. “If there is something to find,” he said, “then someone with power ensured it stayed hidden. And the moment you confirm that, you become a problem they need to solve.”

Jinx swallowed, the weight of his words settling over her. He wasn’t telling her to stop. Wasn’t telling her what to do. Just making sure she understood.

She met his gaze, bracing herself. “I need to know. I've put too much into this to back out now.”

For a long moment, Silco held her stare, and something in his expression softened. Not enough to be called gentle, but enough that she knew, if this was the path she was choosing, he wouldn’t stand in her way.

Finally, he exhaled through his nose, sitting back. “Then tread carefully, my dear.”

Jinx narrowed her eyes, arms still crossed as she leaned against the wall. “So… you came all this way just to give me a warning ?”

Silco exhaled slowly, watching her like he was weighing his response. “Would that be so strange ?”

She tilted her head. “A little. Usually, you’d just have Sevika pass me a message.”

He hummed, gaze flickering around her messy apartment before settling back on her. “Perhaps I wanted to see how my daughter is holding up. Or perhaps I’m simply keeping an eye on a case that could stir the wrong waters.” His voice was even, but there was something careful in the way he said it, like every word was chosen deliberately.

Jinx’s fingers drummed against her arm. “Which one is it ?”

Silco smiled, small and unreadable. “Does it matter ?”

She scoffed, shaking her head. “Guess not.” But as she looked at him, the thought lingered, was he here just for her, or was there something else he wasn’t saying ?

Jinx stood in the doorway for a moment, silently processing the tension between her curiosity and her father's quiet presence. She wasn't sure if she should feel relieved or suspicious, but as much as she tried to keep her guard up, a small smile tugged at her lips when she saw him. It was her father, after all, someone who'd always shown up when it mattered, even if his methods were... unconventional.

"Guess you really came all the way here just for that" she said, her voice lighter than before, even with the faintest trace of annoyance creeping through. But she wasn't really mad. Not at him. Not today.

Silco didn’t immediately answer, only studying her with that knowing gaze of his, his lips curling into something resembling a fond smile, though it was faint. "You know me too well," he murmured, his tone smooth. He stepped closer, his steps measured, like someone trying to be gentle but unable to entirely hide the concern buried underneath. "I had a feeling you might be heading down a dangerous road. Just wanted to make sure you're okay, darling."

His words held layers of meaning, but she was too relieved to think about them too hard. Despite everything, the secrecy, the tension in his posture, the underlying mystery, it was clear that, in his own strange way, he cared about her. He loved her.

Jinx crossed her arms, letting the warmth of the moment settle in. "I’m fine," she said, though the subtle vulnerability in her voice betrayed her own uncertainty. "I’m just... trying to figure things out. Like always."

Silco’s gaze softened just a bit, his hand brushing her shoulder briefly. “You don’t have to do it all alone, sweetheart. Just remember that." His eyes lingered on her, the faintest edge of something unreadable in his stare.

For a brief moment, Jinx forgot to guard her emotions, her walls lowering just a fraction. Maybe it was because of the bond they shared. Maybe it was the storm outside or the quiet in the apartment. Whatever it was, she felt her heartbeat slow as she took a breath.

"Thanks, dad," she murmured, a softness in her tone she rarely allowed to show. "I’ll be careful. I know what I’m doing."

A quiet nod from him, though his expression still seemed clouded with concern. “Do you ?" he asked softly, as though unsure whether he believed it himself. But the question, though loaded, was left hanging in the air, unanswered. Instead, Silco just patted her shoulder once more, letting his gaze linger before he turned to leave. "Take care of yourself, Jinx."

And just like that, the moment passed. As he walked away, Jinx’s hand instinctively moved to the door, a hint of unease stirring in her stomach as she stared at his retreating figure. Silco may have said nothing more, but his words, his presence, lingered long after he’d gone.

And maybe that was enough for now.

After Silco left, Jinx stood still for a moment, the weight of his visit lingering in the air. Despite her unease, she couldn’t help but feel a spark of gratitude toward him, in the strange, twisted way only a daughter and father could understand. She shook it off, knowing she had work to do, so she pushed her thoughts aside and refocused on the task that had been consuming her for days now.

She turned toward the desk in the corner of her apartment, pulling out the large whiteboard from a pile of clutter. It was covered with faint scribbles and smudges from previous investigations, but now it was about to get its most important use yet. She placed it on the wall and stood back for a moment, taking in the blank expanse before her.

She grabbed a marker, her mind already running a million miles a minute. First, she sketched Viktor’s face, a black-and-white photo she'd gotten from a source, and pinned it near the center. His time of death was listed below, then another note about the suicide ruling and how it had been closed so quickly. That part had never sat right with her. The circumstances surrounding Viktor’s death felt off, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

Her hand moved quickly, jotting down the key details she’d been uncovering : Viktor’s illness, and the fact that no one had mentioned this at the time of his death. Was it related ? Was it linked to the change of writing on the suicide note ? She wrote "Illness ?" on the board with a question mark beside it. Her gaze fell on the scrap of paper from Viktor’s desk, his hastily scribbled notes. The writing had seemed almost erratic at times, too much variation in his handwriting, too many signs of what she now knew was a worsening condition,or a complicated mind. If Viktor had been struggling, his writing could have changed. It was not something to dismiss. She underlined "Handwriting inconsistencies" on the board, but the more she thought about it, the more questions she had. If it was his handwriting, maybe she was spending too much time on something irrelevant. To think of it, she never spent too much time on the content of the note itself, since she had directly assumed that it was fake.

If she remembered the note correctly, it said :

There comes a point where one must acknowledge the limits of their efforts. I have tried, again and again, to push beyond them, but the weight of it all is inescapable. Some things are not meant to be changed, perhaps they were never meant to exist at all. I see that now.

I have spent too long chasing what was never mine to hold, hoping for something that was always slipping through my fingers. It is time to put an end to this, before it takes more than it already has.

I regret that it must be this way, but there is no other choice. I will not allow this to continue. It stops tonight.

She sighed, already jaded. She would look into it later . She has too much other information on her mind to come back right away, she'd spread herself too thin.

She wrote down the names that had been swirling around in her head : Jayce, Marcus, and the council. The more she thought about Viktor, the more she wondered if there was a conspiracy behind his death. Was someone trying to cover it up ? And why ? Who exactly in the council could be linked to that apart from Jayce ? 

Jinx stepped back again, staring at the web of information she'd built, feeling a small surge of frustration. The connections didn’t quite make sense yet, but they would. They had to. She couldn’t let Viktor’s death be buried just like that. Not when there was something more beneath the surface. After some reflection, she added Heimerdinger to her list. The yordle did know Viktor after all and was in the council before, and since Ekko mentioned him, it was for sure someone who had to know something too.

Meanwhile, Caitlyn stood in the morgue, staring down at the cold slab where Viktor’s body lay. She could already feel the pushback from the staff, the reluctance to help her even though it was clearly her right to conduct the autopsy. The air in the room was thick with indifference. She hated it.

She crossed her arms, frowning at the officers who were dragging their feet, taking their sweet time in preparing the body for examination.

“Can we speed this up ?” Caitlyn’s voice was calm but firm. “I need this body ready for examination. It’s urgent.”

One of the officers looked up at her, giving her a dismissive glance. “We’re not exactly here to cater to you, Miss. This is a morgue, not a fast-food joint.”

Caitlyn bit back a sharp retort. She had no patience for people who thought their apathy was a form of power. This case was important, Viktor’s death was important, and she wasn’t going to let anyone get in her way.

She stepped closer to Viktor’s body, her eyes scanning the lifeless form with a trained focus. She had heard the rumors, seen the council's dismissive stance, but now, standing here, looking at Viktor’s body, Caitlyn could feel the weight of it pressing down on her.

The body had been ruled a suicide, but there were too many questions left unanswered. If Viktor had been sick, as she now suspected, why hadn’t anyone said anything ? She felt the frustration building again. If they were hiding something, she had to uncover it. She needed to find something, anything, in the autopsy that could lead to the truth. Or at least helping her lover’s sister uncover it.

But first, she had to convince the staff to actually do their jobs.

Caitlyn felt the tension in the morgue grow thicker as the officer who had been stalling stepped aside reluctantly. She could see his eyes flicker to the door, and it was then she heard the heavy footsteps approaching.

Marcus stepped into the room, his expression unreadable but the cold, calculating air about him unmistakable. Caitlyn could feel his eyes on her as she moved closer to Viktor’s body. She hadn’t missed the way he’d walked in, blocking her path, as if he already knew what she was planning.

“Enforcer Caitlyn Kiramman” Marcus began, his tone cool and measured. He didn’t even bother with formalities, and there was a subtle edge of condescension in his voice. “I’m afraid you’re getting ahead of yourself.”

Caitlyn paused, her hand resting just above Viktor’s lifeless form. She turned to face him, narrowing her eyes slightly. “What do you mean ?”

Marcus took a slow step toward her, his posture stiff but polished, as if he were carefully choosing each word. “The investigation has already been closed. Viktor’s death was ruled a suicide. There’s no need to stir the pot, especially when there’s no new evidence to suggest foul play.”

“I know what the official report says,” Caitlyn replied, her voice calm but firm. “But I’m still not convinced. And I need to understand what happened. Viktor deserves that.”

Marcus raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a thin smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I understand your dedication to justice, but you must realize this case is far more complicated than you think. The case is finished and confidential. This isn’t some simple crime where we can all just play detective. You’re involved with the Council, people with influence. Your position matters.”

Caitlyn’s eyes flashed with quiet indignation, but she held her ground. “What exactly are you implying ?”

Marcus took a slow breath, his gaze unwavering. “I’m saying that someone of your stature, someone with such responsibility, should be careful in the cases they pursue. Viktor’s death is a tragedy, but opening it up again, especially when it’s already been ruled a suicide, could cause complications. Politics aside, we don’t need any unnecessary drama. For your own sake.”

Caitlyn stood still, considering his words, but she knew she couldn’t let this go. She couldn’t turn away from the nagging feeling in her gut. “You don’t think Viktor deserves to have the truth come to light ?”

Marcus didn’t falter. “Of course, Viktor deserves justice. But sometimes the truth is more complicated to accept than we’d like to admit.” His voice softened, and his eyes narrowed, just slightly, as he seemed to consider his next words carefully. “Think about it, Caitlyn. You’re doing this because of personal connections, but we both know the Council won’t take kindly to this. And we wouldn’t want the wrong people getting involved.”

Caitlyn’s heart skipped a beat, but she couldn’t let fear or manipulation cloud her judgment. She crossed her arms, biting back the words she wanted to say. “I’m not doing this for anyone’s approval, Marcus. I’m doing it because I owe it to Viktor.” She may not have known the man personally, but through Jayce she had come to respect him deeply. Suicide seemed strange to her too, and the young man deserved more respect from Piltover after all he had done for the town.

Marcus gave her a long, steady look, his eyes searching hers as if he were trying to gauge how far she was willing to push this. “You’re treading dangerous ground, young Kiramman” he said softly. “Are you sure you want to jeopardize everything you’ve built for a case that was already closed ?”

Before she could respond, the door creaked open again, and Jayce entered, his unkempt appearance immediately drawing Marcus’s attention. The weight of the atmosphere in the room shifted as Jayce stepped forward, his presence commanding in its own quiet way.

“I’m giving the order for the autopsy,” Jayce’s voice cut through the tension, his words firm, though his expression was clouded with grief. “It’s not up for debate anymore.”

Marcus looked momentarily stunned, his gaze flicking between Caitlyn and Jayce. There was a brief pause before Marcus’s composure slipped, and he gave a reluctant nod, stepping away from Caitlyn to give her space. “Councilor Talis” he muttered. “I was not aware of your implication. My apologies.” He was in no position to defy a council member’s authority, after all.

Without another word, Marcus left, leaving Caitlyn and Jayce standing alone in the room. Jayce’s hand was still resting on the doorframe, his eyes now on Viktor’s body. He looked as if the weight of Viktor’s death had finally sunk in fully. His expression was grim, but there was something vulnerable in the way he stood.

Caitlyn noticed his shoulders sag, as if the loss of Viktor was hitting him harder now than it ever had. She watched him for a long moment, the silence between them heavy, before he finally spoke again, his voice raw.

“I… I never wanted to believe it,” he murmured, his words barely audible. He turned his head, but his eyes were still fixed on Viktor’s still form. “That Viktor might have been... ill. Or worse. But now... now that he’s gone, it feels like everything’s unraveling.”

Caitlyn had never seen Jayce like this. His usual composed, charismatic persona was gone, replaced by someone who seemed broken and vulnerable in a way she hadn’t expected.

She stepped closer, hesitating for a moment before speaking softly. “We’ll get answers. I promise. No one else is going to bury this.”

Jayce nodded slowly, his eyes welling with unshed tears. He wiped his face quickly, trying to regain some semblance of composure, but it was clear to Caitlyn that the weight of the situation was more than he could bear. His voice cracked as he spoke again.

“I... I can’t even... I can't even process the idea of Viktor being sick. He kept it so well hidden.” He wiped a tear from his cheek, an emotional release he couldn’t suppress. “I should have noticed. I should have been there for him.” His tone faltered, and the guilt in his eyes was palpable. “It’s my fault, Cait. I should’ve done more.”

Caitlyn stood there, watching Jayce for a moment, her heart aching for him. Despite everything, she had seen this side of him before. The man she saw now wasn’t the powerful councilor or the scientist. He was a grieving friend, someone who had lost more than just a colleague. Viktor had been his anchor, and now Jayce was left adrift, struggling to find his way.

She moved closer, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, giving him a quiet reassurance. “You did what you could, Jayce. It’s not your fault. But Viktor’s story isn’t over. We’re going to get answers.”

Jayce gave a small, painful smile, his eyes still fixed on Viktor. “I hope so.”

As Caitlyn stood at the door, her thoughts drifted back to a time when she had walked the halls of Viktor's lab, before everything had changed. The memory was vivid now, one she hadn’t thought about in a long while. A time when she had arrived, unannounced, at Jayce’s lab to speak with him. But that day, something had felt off. There was a tension in the air, thick and palpable, and Caitlyn couldn’t place it.

She had walked down the familiar corridor, intending to surprise him, but when she reached the door to his office, she heard voices. One was Jayce's, the other... Viktor’s.

Caitlyn paused, confused, as she listened. At first, she had assumed they were just talking. Jayce and Viktor often shared ideas, their bond as colleagues obvious in every conversation. But this was different. There was something in the tone of their voices, a quiet intimacy that made Caitlyn feel like an intruder in a conversation she wasn’t meant to hear. It was also what prompted her to stay and listen to the conversation rather than go in or come back another time.

The sound of a chair scraping against the floor, followed by a soft laugh, made Caitlyn press her ear closer to the door. She wasn’t sure why, perhaps she felt an unspoken connection to both of them, but what she heard next startled her.

Through the gap in the door, Caitlyn saw Jayce. His hand reached up, brushing against Viktor’s cheek, and Viktor responded with a hesitant smile. Caitlyn’s heart tightened as their eyes locked for a brief moment, and before she could even process it, Jayce leaned in, capturing Viktor’s lips in a soft kiss.

Caitlyn’s breath caught, and her heart sank—not out of jealousy, but something far more complicated. The reality of their relationship hit her harder than she expected. Viktor, always the quiet, reserved one, and Jayce, so open and expressive... It was clear now that there had been something deeper between them than anyone had ever realized.

But as she stood there, hidden in the shadows, Caitlyn couldn't help but think of someone else. Mel. Jayce’s fiancée. The woman who had been by his side through everything. The woman who didn’t deserve to have her life turned upside down by secrets.

Caitlyn’s heart ached for her, and for Jayce, too, in a strange, complicated way. She didn’t know the details, couldn’t have, but something about what she had just witnessed, about the quiet tenderness between Viktor and Jayce, made her question everything.

Caitlyn stepped back quietly, her heart pounding as she moved away from the door. She never said a word to anyone about what she had seen. Viktor never mentioned it, and she never brought it up to Jayce. It felt wrong, like it wasn’t her place. She had never been the one to meddle in someone else’s relationship, no matter how complicated or unexpected it may have been.

Now, standing over Viktor’s body, Caitlyn couldn’t help but feel the weight of that memory once again. Mel’s face flashed in her mind, and for a brief moment, she considered the tangled web of emotions that had formed around Jayce, Viktor, and the people they cared about. How messy, how confusing, and how much of it was hidden beneath the surface.

Her thoughts were interrupted as she looked down at Viktor’s body once more, pushing the memories aside for the moment. She had a job to do, after all. She had to help Jinx figure out what really happened to Viktor, no matter how much it would complicate everything further.

The conversation crackled with tension, a quiet storm that had been brewing for weeks. Viktor stood firm, his posture rigid, eyes narrowed as he faced the figure across from him. The dim light from the lab's overhead fixtures barely illuminated their faces, casting long shadows on the walls as the air thickened with their words.

“You’re making a grave mistake, Viktor,” the voice said, low and controlled, though laced with a note of concern. It was the same voice that had warned him countless times before, but tonight, the words carried a sharper edge. "These... these inventions you're working on—they’re not just breakthroughs. They're dangers. I warned you about this."

Viktor’s gaze was unyielding, almost cold. “I’m not asking for your approval,” he replied, his voice tight with suppressed frustration. “I’m not waiting for permission anymore. I’m doing this because it needs to be done.”

A silence hung between them, heavy and thick, as if neither of them could find the right words to bridge the widening gap. The figure shifted slightly, a sign of impatience—or perhaps something deeper. “You think you know better than the council?  Than the ones who’ve built this city ? You can’t just... pull the rug out from under everything because you’ve found a new way to fix the pieces. What happens when it all comes crashing down, Viktor ?”

There was a pause, Viktor’s fingers tightening around the edge of his workbench, as if holding onto something to steady himself. "We can’t stay stagnant. You want me to follow the rules, to sit here and accept what we’ve done so far ? What about the rest of the city ? What about the people who can’t afford to wait anymore ? People like me ?"

His voice rose slightly, the conviction burning in his words. The other figure stood motionless, but the air between them felt like it was about to snap. “And what about those who can’t afford the risks you’re taking ? The ones who will suffer for your ambition ? You think the council, the people who have invested everything into you, will simply let this go unchecked ?”

Viktor shook his head. “I’m not afraid of the council. I’m not afraid of anyone. And I’m certainly not afraid of you.”

A long, drawn-out silence followed, thick with unspoken understanding. The figure’s voice was quieter now, but no less firm. “You’re forgetting who you were, Viktor. You’ve changed. You’re playing with fire, and when it burns, you’ll be the one left standing alone in the ashes.”

Viktor’s eyes narrowed as he met the other’s gaze. His jaw tightened, and for a fleeting moment, there was a flicker of doubt, a hesitation that vanished just as quickly as it appeared. But his words came out sharp, laced with determination.

“I’ve always been alone. But I’m not going to stop. Not now. Not when I’m this close to everything I’ve dreamed of.”

The other figure remained silent, but their expression betrayed a mixture of concern and something else, something deeper, a hint of regret, perhaps.

As Viktor turned away, his back to the figure now, the final words lingered in the air, thick with the weight of what had been said and what had not.

“Then you’ll be the one to live with the consequences.”

Viktor didn’t answer, his eyes fixed on the project before him, his mind still trying to focus, trying to ignore the nagging discomfort that had begun to settle in his chest.

"You’re too consumed by your own vision.” The words resonated in his head for a while, as Viktor was finally left alone with the hum of his machines, the weight of the figure’s words lingering like a shadow he couldn’t escape.

Ekko sat across from Heimerdinger, his eyes narrowed. "Did you know about Viktor’s illness ?"

Heimerdinger remained still for a moment, his hands folded neatly in front of him, his posture relaxed. But Ekko could see the subtle tightening of the old yordle’s jaw, the brief flicker in his eyes. It wasn’t a reaction he could easily place, but it was there,a shift, a slight tension in the air.

"Illness ?" Heimerdinger repeated, his voice neutral, almost too calm. "Viktor's condition... it was never simple."

Ekko leaned forward, watching him closely. There was something off about the way Heimerdinger's gaze wandered, the way he avoided answering directly.

"You’re not answering the question," Ekko pressed, his voice steady, but insistent. "Did you know ? And why didn’t you do something ?"

Heimerdinger’s fingers tapped lightly on the surface of the desk, a faint sign of discomfort, though he didn’t move from his seat. The silence between them thickened.

After a long pause, Heimerdinger finally spoke, his tone almost regretful. "Viktor... he told me to say nothing." His voice dropped a little, as if the weight of the words was heavier than they seemed.

Ekko’s heart skipped a beat. He could tell Heimerdinger was holding something back, not from words, but from how he was carrying himself, the way his posture shifted ever so slightly.

"You’re telling me Viktor asked you to stay silent ? Why ?" Ekko asked, barely containing his disbelief.

Heimerdinger’s eyes met his, and for a brief moment, Ekko saw something there—a flicker of something like resignation, or guilt, maybe even fear. But the old scientist just nodded.

"Yes," he said, softly. "It was Viktor’s wish."

Ekko stared at him for a moment longer, the unease in his chest growing.

"I gave him my word lad." Heimerdinger’s voice was quiet, almost final.

Ekko stood up abruptly, his mind a storm of questions. He could feel the weight of the conversation, the things that were left unsaid.

But Heimerdinger’s last words echoed in his mind as he stepped toward the door.

"Viktor’s secrets... are not mine to tell."

The door clicked shut behind him.

Chapter Text

The council chamber was quieter than usual. Jayce sat at the long table, hands clasped, eyes vacant. The polished marble floors, the golden accents lining the room, none of it registered. It had been days since Viktor’s body was removed from his lab, yet the image of it, lifeless on the floor, had burned itself into his mind.

Mel’s voice pulled him back. “You need to start looking forward, Jayce.”

His grip tightened. “I—” He cut himself off. He wanted to tell her he couldn’t. That everything felt wrong. That there was a chasm in him where Viktor used to be, and no amount of council meetings or business discussions could fill it. But he didn’t say it. Instead, he exhaled sharply and leaned back, feigning composure. “I am looking forward.”

Mel gave him a measured look, sipping from a delicate glass of wine she had brought into the room. “Then you should act like it. The council needs to see you in control. Piltover needs to see you in control.” She swirled the liquid lazily before taking another sip. “Lingering on the past won’t bring him back.”

His jaw tensed. Him. She didn’t say Viktor’s name.

“Is that what you think I’m doing ?” he asked, voice dangerously low.

She tilted her head, watching him carefully, as if weighing her words. “I think you’re letting grief cloud your judgment. That’s all.”

Jayce let out a humorless chuckle. “And what exactly do you suggest ?”

Mel set down her glass and leaned in, her presence always poised, always intentional. “The projects still need leadership. The council still needs its golden boy. You can’t afford to be reckless right now.”

Something in the way she said it made his stomach twist. Reckless ? Did she think he was unstable ? Or was she worried about something else ? 

She studied his silence for a moment before reaching out, fingers brushing his forearm in a gesture meant to be soothing. But all it did was make his skin crawl.

Jayce stood abruptly, chair scraping against the floor. “I have work to do.”

Mel didn’t stop him. She only watched as he walked away, the ghost of a knowing smile on her lips. Time erased everything, one day this will all be a bad memory.

The morning had started like any other. Well, except for one thing. She could feel the moment she woke up something felt wrong.

The feeling had continued. The second she stepped into the office, the usual buzz of Zaun Investigations grated against her skin, phones ringing, Sevika barking orders, the smell of burnt coffee lingering in the air. It all felt… wrong. Like the walls were pressing in, like her own heartbeat was just a bit too loud.

She ignored it.

She had a big case. A lead to chase, a puzzle to solve. That was supposed to make things better. She worked best under pressure.

But even as she moved through the motions, that static in the back of her mind crackled louder. Shadows stretched just a little too long. The city’s usual background noise twisted, distorting, warping into something almost familiar—

"This is what you get, Powder."

She flinched. It wasn’t real. Not real.

She swallowed it down, focused on her work, on anything but that voice. But the more she tried to drown it out, the stronger it became. The pressure in her skull was unbearable.

She needed air. Something to focus on. Something to help forget.

After Jayce’s intervention, the council had technically approved the autopsy, but when Jinx tried to request the report, she was met with bureaucratic dead ends. Caitlyn couldn't do anything about that. Excuses. Delays. Someone was blocking access. And that someone had too much influence, because even Sevika couldn't put her hands on it despite having a “contact”. If there was one thing she hated, it was being told she couldn’t do something.

So, naturally, she decided to break in.

Jinx adjusted the dark brown wig on her head, making sure it covered every strand of blue. The roots were intentionally messy, giving the appearance of someone who had dyed their hair too many times. She had ditched her usual vibrant colors, swapping them for a simple gray hoodie, dark cargo pants, and, against her better judgment, glasses with thick black frames. Her long braids were gone, tucked up and hidden beneath the hood. It would be complicated if she was recognised, and her reputation preceded her too much, especially after the charming discussions she'd had with the morgue people who were blocking her access to the fucking autopsy report. Breaking in while wearing a disguise was fun. Amusing. Distracting. Everything she needed. She expected a lot of different scenarios when she went there but she certainly hadn’t expected to find Ekko sneaking in at the same time.

Great minds often think alike, and well he looked different too, although she could recognise his stupid face anywhere. While she felt a bit like a clown, Ekko looked annoyingly natural in disguise. He had trimmed his usually wild hair, the sides shorter than before, making it harder to recognize him at a glance. He wore a black beanie, a heavy jacket that disguised his lean build, and contacts that dulled the usual warmth of his brown eyes. 

It seemed they had both entered the back corridors of the Piltover Medical Center separately, but now they stood across from each other in the dimly lit hallway.

Jinx tilted her head. “Really ? You too ?”

Ekko didn’t seem surprised to see her here. He only looked at her the way you would look at an unpleasant surprise. “My little stalker. You always sneak into morgues, or is this just for me ?”

She twitched at the nickname, already feeling the anger building inside her. However, she had something to do. She smiled mockingly. They could be two people playing this game. “If I knew you’d be here, I would’ve brought flowers.”

Ekko sighed, rubbing his temple, perhaps disappointed at her lack of reaction before adopting a blasé tone, as if he'd just realised that this operation was going to prove much more complicated than it had originally been now that he knew she was here too.“You shouldn’t be surprised. We both want the report.”

Jinx smirked. “Didn’t peg you as the type to break into a morgue.”

“Didn’t peg you as the type to wear glasses” Ekko shot back, eyeing her disguise.

Jinx adjusted the frames on her nose with a dramatic flourish. “I look good in them, huh ?”

Ekko ignored the bait, glancing down the hallway. “We don’t have time for this. The security rotations give us a five-minute window before the next patrol. I was planning to go solo, but since someone decided to crash my break-in, we’re working together.”

Jinx raised an eyebrow, but she didn’t argue. She hated that they were on the same side again, but if it got her what she wanted faster, she’d deal with it.

“Fine. But I’m getting there first” she muttered, already moving toward the records room.

Ekko groaned under his breath before following. “This is gonna be a disaster.”

The room was lined with filing cabinets, shelves stacked with thick binders filled with autopsy reports. A single flickering light bulb buzzed overhead. It seemed that the files weren’t kept in the same room as the bodies. The actual morgue, the cold, sterile space where the dead were stored, was separated by a set of heavy doors, leading into a quieter, more clinical archive where the reports were filed away. That’s where they started, flipping through paperwork under the dull hum of overhead lights. It smelled like disinfectant and old paper, the kind of place where silence felt heavier.

Ekko immediately went to the main filing cabinet, searching through the labels. “Viktor’s name should be under ‘classified cases.’”

Jinx leaned over his shoulder, too close on purpose. “Damn, you know your way around here. How many times have you broken in ?”

Ekko didn’t even flinch. “This is a first. You’re just loud.”

Jinx snorted but didn’t argue. His presence was a good distraction from the voices she could hear echoed at the back of her head. They worked quickly, flipping through the files. Viktor’s name wasn’t where it should be. The records had been moved.

Jinx’s lips curled into a smirk. “Looks like someone really doesn’t want us to see this.”

Ekko pulled out his phone, scanning a list of digital archives. “There’s a restricted section. Probably locked separately.”

Jinx rolled her eyes. “Of course. Nothing’s ever easy.”

Ekko shot her a sideways glance. “You complaining or just stating the obvious ?”

Jinx grinned. “A little of both.” 

Before Ekko could respond, the sound of approaching footsteps made them both freeze.

They exchanged a look. Time to move.

Jinx grabbed Ekko’s arm and yanked him toward the nearest hiding spot, squeezing into a narrow gap between two metal shelves. The space was tight, stifling, their bodies pressed close as the door creaked open.

A security officer stepped inside, flashlight sweeping the room in slow, methodical arcs.

Jinx’s heartbeat hammered against her ribs. Too loud. Too fast. Like a clock ticking out of sync. The beam of light passed over them, and for the briefest moment, she swore she saw something else in the darkness, shadows stretching wrong, moving when nothing should. Her breath hitched. A whisper, just on the edge of hearing.

Powder.

She blinked hard. No. Not now.

Ekko was still as stone beside her, his breathing steady, controlled. The guard lingered. Jinx’s fingers twitched toward her pocket, wrapping around the cool metal of a small device. A distraction, just in case.

Ekko caught the movement and shot her a warning glance. Don’t.

She grinned, but it felt stiff, wrong. The whisper came again, this time curling inside her skull.

Little Powder, so reckless. You’re gonna get him killed too .

She bit her tongue, willing herself to stay focused. After a few agonizing seconds, the guard muttered something under his breath and left. The door clicked shut.

They exhaled at the same time.

Jinx nudged Ekko with her elbow, forcing a smirk. “Told you this would be fun.”

Ekko rolled his eyes. “This isn’t fun. We still don’t have the report.”

Jinx’s grin widened, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Not yet. But I have a feeling we’re about to.”

And then, the unmistakable click of a lock sliding into place.

Jinx and Ekko turned to stare at each other.

“You’ve got to be kidding me” Ekko muttered. He went straight for the door, jiggling the handle. No luck.

Jinx leaned against a metal exam table, arms crossed. The cold surface sent a dull ache through her spine. "Wow. The great Firelights detective, trapped in a morgue. Should I be worried about your skills ?"

Ekko shot her a glare before pulling a small tool from his pocket, kneeling to examine the lock. “Oh, forgive me for not planning on you locking us in.”

Jinx gasped, pressing a hand over her chest in mock offense. “Me ? That’s rich coming from Mr. ‘Let’s Work Together’ over here. Face it, your plan sucked.”

Ekko didn’t look up. “At least I had a plan.”

Jinx huffed. “And look where that got us.”

A tense silence settled between them. The overhead lights flickered once, just for a second, but it made her stomach twist. She took off the stupid wig and glasses, and Ekko did the same. No need for disguises in these circumstances. She'd gone to a lot of trouble for nothing. She pulled out her phone, hands unsteady as she typed.

We’re stuck in the morgue of Piltie medic center. Send help.

Vi’s response was immediate.

…What the hell, Powder.

Jinx stared at the name a little too long.

Long story. Just get Caitlyn to pull some strings or whatever and get the key.

A pause. Then,

You have the worst timing. We’re having dinner with Cait’s parents. It’ll take at least two hours before we can leave.

Jinx groaned, tilting her head back against the metal slab. “Great. Just great. Two hours at least stuck here with you.”

Ekko finally abandoned the lock, exhaling sharply as he leaned against the wall. “Trust me, I’m not thrilled about it either.”

Jinx pocketed her phone, shifting uncomfortably. Her fingers curled and uncurled at her sides. The buzzing in her head wasn’t stopping. She could feel it under her skin now, like static crawling through her veins.

Ekko glanced at her. "You good ?"

The question grated.

She turned her head sharply, lips curling into a smirk. "You could at least try to hide your disappointment. Might hurt a girl's feelings."

Ekko scoffed. “Please. Like you have feelings.”

She smirked back, but her throat felt tight.

“Ouch. That almost stung.”

Something about the way he looked at her —like he was actually trying to see her— made her chest ache. She glanced away. The morgue was too quiet, too still, but somewhere in the hum of the fluorescent lights, she swore she heard another voice.

For a moment, the only sound was the faint hum of the emergency lights overhead. The cold, sterile air of the morgue pressed around them, the dim lighting casting elongated shadows along the walls. Now that she knew she was blocked in, even though she had laughed about it, she felt even more oppressed than before.

The morgue was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that wrapped around her throat, suffocating, pressing in from all sides.

Jinx sat against the cold metal slab, her arms wrapped around her knees, trying to ignore the way her fingers twitched, the way her leg bounced, the way her own skin felt too tight. She kept her head down, kept her breathing even. In, out. In, out. She was getting worse. She could feel it.

It was coming.

Ekko sat a few feet away, arms crossed, his back against the wall. Silent. Watching. She hated it. Hated the way he was looking at her, like he wanted to say something but didn’t. Like he knew.

He doesn’t know anything.

She gritted her teeth, shutting her eyes. Big mistake. The second her eyelids fell, darkness surged forward like a wave, swallowing the room whole. She could still hear Ekko’s breathing, still feel the chill of the morgue, but the shadows were shifting, warping. Something moved in the corners of her vision. She knew it wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. But that didn’t stop the whisper.

"Boom."

Her breath hitched.

No, no, no—

"You did this."

Jinx’s nails dug into her arms. The cold bite of her own touch barely grounded her.

She knew that voice.

Thin, reedy. Full of disdain.

Mylo.

She forced her eyes open, heart hammering. The morgue was still there, unchanged. Ekko was still there. But the shadows didn’t settle. The air still felt heavy, pressing down on her like a lead weight.

Her hands shook. She clenched them into fists.

"You hear that ?"

She didn’t answer. Didn’t look.

Because if she did, if she so much as glanced in that direction, she knew what she’d see.

A pair of dangling feet.

Swinging, slow. Drip, drip, drip, blood hitting the tile.

"Tried to fix things, huh ? How’s that working out for you ?"

Jinx squeezed her eyes shut again, willing the voice away.

She couldn’t do this. Not now.

Not here.

Not with Ekko watching.

But Mylo wasn’t the only one.

"Should’ve stayed Powder."

Her stomach dropped.

That voice, Vi’s, was so much worse.

“Jinx ?"

A real voice this time.

She flinched.

Ekko.

His brows were knit together, jaw tight. He wasn’t looking at her like she was crazy, not yet, but she could see the way he was trying to figure her out. Trying to decide if he should say something.

She forced herself to straighten. Blinked hard. When she looked down again, the blood was gone. Just cold, grey tile. Jinx swallowed, pressing the heel of her hand to her forehead. Her skin was clammy. She sighed, breath a bit too shaky to be normal, trying to keep appearance. To avoid feeling, thinking. "Since we’re stuck here, might as well make the most of it. Wanna play a game ? Two truths and a lie ?"

Ekko gave her a dry look. "Pass."

He sounded worried, his voice softer than usual. It only put her on edge even more.

Jinx groaned. "Ugh. You’re so boring. Fine. Let’s talk about something else. Like, oh, I don’t know, how the hell did you manage to get us locked in ?"

Ekko shot her a look. "I managed ? You were the one who hid us when someone came in !"

The conversation went on, lightening the tension, if only briefly. Jinx let herself fall into it, into the easy back-and-forth, the jabs and snide remarks that felt like second nature. It was familiar, safe. A distraction. But beneath it, the weight still pressed in. Lurking. Waiting.

Her fingers twitched, restless. She rubbed her palms together as if she could scrub away the phantom sensation of blood that wasn’t really there. The morgue was too quiet. Too still. She needed movement, noise, something to drown out the gnawing thoughts clawing at the edges of her mind.

Ekko shifted nearby, the scrape of his boot against the floor cutting through the silence. Jinx's gaze flickered to him, watching the way he ran a hand over his face, exhaling slowly. He was thinking. Overanalyzing. She could see the gears turning behind his eyes.

"Got something to say ?" she asked, forcing her voice into something flippant, casual.

Ekko glanced at her, hesitating for just a second before shaking his head. "Nah."

Liar.

Jinx clicked her tongue and leaned back against the cold metal slab, tapping her fingers against it in an uneven rhythm. "So what, we just sit here ? Wait for some poor sap to open the door and pretend we didn’t break in ?"

Ekko didn't answer right away. His arms stayed crossed, brows furrowed like he was chewing on something heavier than their current predicament. Jinx could feel it, felt it in the way his silence stretched, in the way he kept looking at her like he wanted to say something but thought better of it.

She hated it.

Ekko exhaled sharply, like his patience was running thin. "Fine. You want to talk ? Let’s talk about why we’re here in the first place. The autopsy report."

Jinx’s fingers stilled. Her eyes flicked up to meet his. "What about it ?"

He leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees. "What if they didn’t just withhold it ? What if they changed something ?"

The teasing glint in her eyes dimmed. "You think they doctored the report ?"

Ekko held her gaze, unwavering. "I think we should consider it. I mean, with all the obstacles we've had in our way since the start, it wouldn't be impossible."

Jinx chewed the inside of her cheek. A beat of silence passed, heavy, thick with unspoken frustration.

"Starting to piss me off," she muttered, then huffed. "Not that you aren’t already a pain, but still."

Ekko smirked. "Right back at you."

The air between them shifted—lighter, if only slightly. But beneath it, tension still coiled, threading through their words, their silence. The rivalry. The partnership. The unspoken something neither of them wanted to acknowledge yet.

Her heart still hammered against her ribs, her skin still felt too tight, but for now, she could pretend it was getting better.

"Alright, if we're stuck here, let's at least snoop around. Maybe we'll find something fun."

Ekko rolled his eyes. "Because that’s a great idea."

Jinx grinned. "You love my ideas."

Ekko muttered, "Debatable," but he stood anyway, because as much as he hated to admit it, she wasn’t entirely wrong.

And they certainly had a lot of time to kill.

Jinx moved first, pushing through the heavy doors that led from the file room into the actual morgue. The shift in atmosphere was immediate. The air here was heavier, thick with chemicals and something stale, something that smelled too close to death. She didn’t care. It wasn’t the worst place she’d been.

Ekko followed, quieter, more deliberate in his movements. His fingers ghosted over a row of drawers, scanning the faded name tags as he went. “Looking for anything specific, or are we just killing time ?”

Jinx shot him a grin, but it felt hollow. “You never know what kind of fun you’ll find in a morgue.”

She drifted between the cold metal slabs, fingers trailing along their edges before stopping at one. It wasn’t part of their search. The autopsy reports were back in the other room. But something about standing here, surrounded by the dead, made her hands itch with restless energy.

She popped open a random drawer. The cold rush of preserved air hit her face. Empty. Another. Empty. A third—

Her fingers twitched. This one wasn’t empty. A white sheet covered the body, barely shifting with the stagnant air.

Ekko leaned over her shoulder. “Don’t.”

Jinx smirked, reaching for the sheet. “What, scared ?”

He sighed but didn’t stop her. She peeled it back just enough to see the face beneath. Pale, sunken, lifeless. A man, mid-forties, deep scars along his jaw. Not Viktor.

Her stomach didn’t twist like it used to. She wasn’t a kid anymore.

Jinx let the sheet fall back into place and stepped away. The room was too quiet. Too still. She wandered, boots clicking against the tiled floor, her hands twitching at her sides. There was something off about this place, beyond the obvious. The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead, but the longer she stood there, the more it felt like they were humming in her skull, right behind her eyes.

She squeezed them shut, exhaling sharply.

Ekko was still focused on the papers, completely unaware of the way her world was tilting, fracturing. He flipped through one of the files there, skimming the notes with a raised brow. "Still I’m surprised Zaun Investigation couldn't just pull some strings like they always do. Guess even the big guys hit dead ends sometimes."

"Just take orders from Silco..."

Her breath hitched.

The words slithered in, creeping up her spine, sinking under her skin. The room felt colder, the walls pressing closer.

"You’ll never get out of his shadow, you know that ? No one will ever see you as anything more than Silco’s little doll."

Her heartbeat stuttered. Her fingers curled into fists.

She hadn’t heard Mylo in ages. Not like this. Not this voice, the one that used to cut her down before she even had the chance to stand.

Jinx stilled.

Ekko didn’t notice at first. He smirked, setting the file down. "Kinda ruins the whole untouchable image, don’t you think ?"

"Shut up."

It came out sharp. Immediate.

Ekko’s smirk faded. His eyes flicked to Jinx, but she wasn’t looking at him. Her fingers twitched at her sides, nails digging into her gloves.

The air between them shifted, heavy with something unsaid.

Ekko sighed. "Jinx, I was just messing—"

She didn’t respond. The buzzing got louder. The fluorescent lights flickered.

Ekko’s voice was distant, muffled, like he was speaking through water. “Jinx ? You good ?”

No, she wasn’t.

"You really think they care about you ? Ekko doesn’t care. No one cares, not the way you want them to. They’ll leave you, just like they always do."

Jinx pressed her palms to her ears, shaking her head. “Shut up” she muttered under her breath.

Ekko turned fully, brows furrowing. “What ?”

The room swayed. The shadows stretched longer than they should. The body under the sheet looked like it had shifted.

"Yeah, sure. You’re just a girl with a fancy job and a pretty face. But you’re still Silco’s pet. What’s that make you, huh ? Nothing but a puppet."

Jinx sucked in a sharp breath, nails biting into her palms. The pressure in her chest was suffocating, her mind spiraling down a path she couldn’t control.

She shot a glance at Ekko, so calm, so steady, like none of this was eating him alive.

She hated it. Hated him.

Her breath came too fast. Her fingers twitched.

Ekko stayed quiet, watching her—watching her, like he could see straight through her skin, like he knew she was breaking and didn’t care.

That was the worst part.

"You’re weak, Powder. Always have been. Always will be."

Jinx stood so suddenly the room spun, her pulse hammering against her ribs. She paced, hands fidgeting, the walls closing in. The hum in her skull was unbearable, a droning, suffocating pressure.

“Stop it,” she muttered to herself, voice strained. “Stop it. Stop it.”

But the whispers didn’t stop. They never did.

Jinx’s vision blurred at the edges, the morgue distorting, Ekko standing there like a ghost of something long lost, Mylo’s voice clawing at her from the past. She wanted to scream, to shut him up, to tear apart the space between her and Ekko and make him feel as raw as she did. Instead, she just let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head as she paced the room, hands twitching at the hem of her shirt.

She turned on him, anger shifting into something colder, darker.

“You think you’re better than me, don’t you ?” she spat.

Ekko's criticism about Zaun Investigations struck a nerve. It always did. He threw around words like corrupt, self-serving, just another gang with a fancy name—as if he didn’t understand a damn thing. As if he had the right to judge.

"Must be nice, huh ?" she snapped, voice biting. "Sitting on that high horse, looking down at the rest of us. Like your hands are so much cleaner."

"I never said that."

"You didn’t have to."

She was pacing now. She could feel it creeping in—the tightness in her chest, the way the shadows in the corners stretched when she wasn’t looking.

Ekko exhaled sharply. "Jinx, come on—"

"No, really, tell me, what should I do, huh ? Run off and play hero like you ? Like that fixes anything ?" Her fingers twitched. The room felt smaller. The air, heavier. The light buzzed overhead, a dull electric hum drilling into her skull.

Ekko ran a hand over his face. "That’s not what I—"

The lights flickered again. The shadows stretched just a little longer. And in the corner of her eye, the body under the sheet wasn’t still anymore.

Jinx scoffed, stepping closer, her posture coiled tight. “You think you’re better than me. You think I don’t know what’s going on ? Yeah, you’re all ‘good guy’ on the outside, but deep down, you’re just as screwed up as the rest of us. You just hide it better.”

Her chest heaved, the storm inside her raging harder. She didn’t care if he fought back. She wanted him to. Needed him to.

“How long are you gonna keep pretending, Ekko ?” Her voice was sharp, cutting. “How long before you crack ? You’re just as messed up as me. Maybe worse, because at least I know who I am. Do you ?”

Ekko’s lips pressed into a thin line, his jaw tight. He didn’t answer. That pissed her off more.

Jinx let out a hollow laugh. “You talk big about justice, but the Firelights do plenty of shady shit when it suits them. And yet, you look at me like I’m the one who’s lost.”

“I don’t look at you like that.”

“Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes, voice dripping with mockery. “You’re judging me right now. Because I work for my dad. Because Zaun Investigation isn’t some underground rebel movement, it’s a business.” She leaned forward, voice dropping into something quieter, sharper. “But here’s the kicker, Firefly, you act like the FDA isn’t exactly the same. You just dress it up in moral high ground.”

Ekko exhaled sharply. “It’s not the same.”

Jinx raised a brow. “No ? ‘Cause last I checked, you pick and choose your battles too. Just like us.”

Ekko’s jaw tightened. “We’re trying to protect people. Not just serve whoever’s paying the most.”

Jinx laughed, sharp and humorless. “Oh, right, because you’re so pure, huh ? You ever think about the people you don’t help ? The ones you can’t because it doesn’t fit your whole ‘noble underdog’ act ?” Her voice dipped, mocking. “Or do you just shove that guilt down with the rest ?”

Ekko glared at her. “That’s not how it works, and you know it.”

She gave him a slow once-over. “Yeah. I know it. Do you ?”

Ekko pushed off the table, stepping closer. “At least I try. What do you do, Jinx ? Just take orders from Silco and call it a day ?”

Jinx’s eyes darkened. “Careful.”

Ekko didn’t back down. “You act like you’re so independent, but you’re just another pawn in his game.”

Her fingers twitched. The morgue felt colder. The shadows stretched longer. The body in the corner wasn’t still anymore.

“And what does that make you, huh ?” she shot back, voice almost playful, but there was something dangerous underneath. “Some rebel king ? You’re just as stuck in this mess as I am, but you pretend you’re above it.” She scoffed. “What a joke.”

Ekko shook his head, frustration simmering. “You really don’t see it, do you ?”

Jinx rolled her eyes. “See what, exactly ?”

Ekko exhaled, voice tight. “That you’re wasting yourself on his war.”

Jinx froze for half a second before forcing a laugh. “Wow. That’s rich coming from you. You think I’m the one wasting myself ?” She stepped closer, tilting her head. “At least I know where I stand. You’re the one who doesn’t even know what he wants.”

Ekko clenched his jaw.

Jinx smirked, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You regret it, don’t you ?”

Ekko didn’t answer. But the muscle in his jaw jumped.

Jinx leaned in slightly. “How easy things felt earlier. How we almost—”

Ekko’s expression shuttered, and Jinx saw it. Felt it.

She exhaled sharply, stepping back. “Yeah. Thought so.”

Ekko didn’t respond.

They sat in silence, on opposite sides of the morgue.

Ekko’s mood started to darken the longer he watched Jinx, her words piercing deeper than he expected. He wanted to argue back, to tell her she was wrong, but something about the way she said it, the venom in her voice, made his chest tighten. Maybe she wasn’t wrong. Maybe he did have his own issues, his own shadows lurking beneath the surface, but hearing it from her felt different, like it cut through all the walls he had built around himself. And that made him feel exposed.

As she stood there, practically seething, Ekko could feel his anger drain away, replaced with something heavier, something he didn’t want to face. He just stayed silent, his jaw clenched tightly. He should have said something, should have defended himself. But every word he thought to speak seemed to die in his throat, swallowed by the weight of what she’d said.

He regretted it. Regretted coming here. Regretted everything. The tension in his body was unbearable, his hands balling into fists, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak. It was easier to stay silent, to let the words hang in the air between them like a poison.

Jinx, for her part, seemed to dig deeper into herself as well. Her movements were almost frantic now, her fingers trembling as they picked at her clothes, her hair. She seemed lost in it, the turmoil inside her so loud that it was all she could hear. She was unraveling, and Ekko felt helpless to stop it.

Time passed in silence, a heavy, oppressive silence that thickened with each second. Ekko felt like the walls were closing in around him. He wanted to leave, to escape the suffocating tension, but he couldn’t. Instead, he sat there, still, his thoughts swirling with regret and frustration.

Finally, he exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face. He said almost in a whisper. “You always do this.” He instantly regretted those words, which had passed his lips while a multitude of thoughts swirled in his head. This situation was affecting him much more than he wanted it to. He really thought that something had improved with her, although it had turned out to be terribly fragile.

Jinx’s eyes flicked to him, wary. “Do what ?” 

“Shut down. Pick a fight instead of actually talking.” His voice was edged with frustration, but it wasn’t loud. It was the kind of anger that simmered just under the surface, controlled but undeniable. He knew he should stop talking, but the words were coming out too fast.

Jinx scoffed, shifting her weight. “Oh, please.”

Ekko shook his head, jaw tight. “You think I don’t see it ? You push and push until there’s nothing left but a fight. It’s easier that way, isn’t it ?” He didn't want to argue with her, so why couldn't he just let it go ? 

Jinx’s fingers twitched. “You done ?”

Yes, he should have, he shouldn't have opened his mouth to begin with. Yet something was boiling inside him, the disappointment that all the time they'd spent together, at his place, talking, that it was all so unimportant that it was as if those moments together had never existed in the first place when they were arguing. So, despite his conscience screaming at him to stop, that he would regret it, Ekko leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his gaze sharp. “You don’t plan to change, do you ?”

She bristled. “Oh, and you do ?”

Ekko’s lips pressed into a thin line. “At least I try.”

Jinx let out a sharp laugh, but it lacked any real amusement. Her nails dug into her arms. “Must be nice, huh ?”

The air was thick. Heavy. Sticking to her lungs like tar. Jinx squeezed her eyes shut, but it didn’t stop the weight pressing down on her chest. It didn’t stop the way her fingers tingled, the way her pulse pounded, loud, too loud, filling her ears with static.

She couldn't move.

She needed to move.

Her skin burned, too tight, like it didn’t belong to her. The morgue was still there, the cold metal, the white tile, the smell of chemicals and decay. But it was slipping, shifting, like a glitch in her vision.

"Why are you even here, Powder ?"

The voice slithered under her skin, scraping against her skull like nails on glass. Mylo. Always him.

She didn't look.

Looking made it worse.

"Playing detective, are we ?" He laughed, sharp, cruel. "What, you think you're smart now ? Thought that new name would give you a brain ?"

Jinx gritted her teeth, nails digging into her arms.

"She really thinks she can figure it out." Claggor mused, voice softer, almost pitying. Mylo added mockingly. "Like she’s not just some dumb little kid pretending to be something she’s not."

Jinx shook her head.

No. No, she wasn’t—

"You don’t even see it, do you ?" Mylo’s voice was closer now. The scent of smoke filled her nostrils, thick, cloying. "The way you always bother everyone, even him ? He hates you know."

She opened her eyes.

She shouldn’t have opened her eyes.

The morgue wasn’t the morgue anymore. The walls stretched high, warped, towering over her like a cage, dripping with blackened soot. The air reeked of burnt metal, of ash.

And there, there in the corner, he was.

Viktor.

Or what was left of him.

A shadow, long and twisted, stretched from the table, fingers curling unnaturally against the tile. His body flickered, shifting between states, whole one moment, charred and broken the next.

And his eyes, his eyes were open.

Jinx’s breath hitched.

Viktor stared at her, dark hollows boring into her skull. His lips moved, shaping words, but the sound was wrong, warped, distant, as if coming from the bottom of a well.

"You think you see everything" he whispered. "But you see nothing at all."

Jinx pressed her hands against her ears.

"You're just a pawn." Mylo seemed to smile.

Ekko held his hands up, slow, careful. But his face had shifted—brows furrowed, concern bleeding through the irritation.

She hated that look.

"Just—stop looking at me like that !"

She turned away, fists clenched. She wanted to punch something. Tear something apart. But there was nothing.

Just four walls. A locked door. And Ekko.

Ekko was still watching her. She could feel it.

She wanted him to stop.

She wanted him to say something.

She wanted him to leave.

But there was nowhere to go.

The air felt thick. Too thick. Like smoke filling her lungs, like she was inhaling something heavy and suffocating, something that wasn’t air at all. Her chest heaved, but no matter how much she gasped, it didn’t feel like she was breathing. It felt like she was drowning—not in water, not in anything she could see, but in something worse. Something invisible. Something that coiled around her throat like vines, twisting tighter and tighter, digging into her ribs, crushing them, making her feel like she would collapse in on herself.

Her body locked up, frozen, every muscle seizing in place. Her skin was crawling— itching— burning—

No. No, no, no.

She tried to shake it off, tried to move, but the sensation spread like wildfire, faster, crawling deeper under her flesh. Insects. Tiny legs skittering over her skin, wriggling into her veins, burrowing beneath the surface where she couldn’t tear them out. She wanted to scream, wanted to rip herself open, dig them out with her nails, peel her own skin off if she had to—but she couldn’t move. She couldn’t do anything.

Her vision blurred, the morgue around her twisting, melting into something unreal. The lights flickered, casting shadows that weren’t shadows at all. Shapes moved at the edges of her vision—things that weren’t there, weren’t supposed to be there. Her brothers. Watching. Staring. Judging.

"You’re weak."

Jinx was drowning.

She could still feel the cold, clinical air of the morgue pressing against her skin, but it had warped into something suffocating, thick like oil slipping down her throat. Her breath came in shallow gasps, her lungs burning as if she had been submerged underwater. The walls were closing in, shadows bleeding through the cracks, writhing like living things.

Mylo’s voice slithered into her ears, sharp and sneering. “You’re pathetic. Always have been.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, nails digging into her palms. “Shut up.”

“Did I say something wrong ?” Mylo taunted, his voice circling her like a predator. “I mean, it’s not like you ever see the truth until it’s too late. You trust too easily. You get people killed.”

Claggor and Vi stood off to the side, silent, their gazes heavy with something worse than anger, disappointment. Jinx couldn’t look at them, not when she knew what they thought. Not when she could feel her own shame curdling in her gut.

The voices twisted, their weight pressing down on her skull. Silco. She had always trusted him, relied on him. But… had he told her everything? He kept things from her, she knew that much. He always said it was for her own good. But what if—

“Now, now, that’s an interesting thought.” Mylo’s voice curled around her like a noose. “Dear old Dad. How much do you really know, Jinx ? Maybe he had a reason to get rid of Viktor. Maybe this is another one of those ‘for your own good’ things.”

“No.” The word barely scraped out of her throat. She believed in Silco. He wouldn’t—he couldn’t.

But doubt was a slow poison, and Mylo’s laughter was acid in her veins.

“Oh, but if it’s not Silco, then who ? Maybe it’s someone else you’ve been too blind to see.”

The shadows around her pulsed, shifting unnaturally. Something small, round-eared, perched high above, watching. Waiting. Jinx’s breath hitched, her stomach twisting. Heimerdinger.

“Now that’s just desperate.” Mylo’s tone was dripping with amusement. “Really ? The old yordle ? What’s next, Vi ?”

She couldn’t breathe. The voices wouldn’t stop. Something was crawling on her skin, tiny, skittering things burrowing under her flesh. She clawed at her arms, chest heaving, trying to get them off, but they weren’t there, they were never there—

Mylo’s voice lowered, whispering mockingly against her ear. “Well, there you have it. Your killer.”

The shadows pulsed again, the morgue flickering between reality and something far worse. Jinx gasped, grasping at the edges of her sanity as the walls pressed in, the voices laughing, the truth slipping through her fingers.

And then, finally, the sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway outside the morgue. Vi’s voice came faintly through the door, a welcome relief after the endless tension. "Powder ?" she called, pushing open the heavy morgue doors, the scent of disinfectant and something metallic curling in her nose. She spotted Jinx immediately, still as a statue. Jinx didn’t react at first. Just stood there white like she just saw a ghost, shoulders tense. The dim overhead light cast sharp shadows over her face, making her look, Vi hated to think it, haunted.

The second the door creaked open, the suffocating pressure in Jinx’s chest eased, like she’d been drowning and finally broke the surface. Air. She could breathe again. But everything still felt unreal, like she wasn’t quite in her body, like her limbs didn’t belong to her. Vi calling her Powder didn’t even matter right now, though it was noticed by Ekko, the use of the unknown name making his interest peak, but he said nothing.

She barely registered Vi stepping inside, concern etched across her face. Jinx didn't move, didn't speak, just stood there, dazed, staring past her sister as if the world had lost all meaning. The shadows in the corners of the room no longer twisted with sinister shapes, but their presence lingered, just beyond her vision.

And Mylo, he was quieter now, almost distant, but not gone. His final parting shot slithered through her mind, a sneering whisper laced with mockery.

"Pow-Pow still needs her big sister for everything, huh ? Some things never change."

Jinx swallowed hard, fingers twitching at her sides. She wouldn't look at Vi. Wouldn’t meet her eyes. Because if she did, she might see what Mylo did—just a fragile little girl who still couldn't stand on her own. 

Vi took another cautious step closer. “Hey,” she said, softer this time.

Some seconds passed before Jinx finally found the courage  to look up. Her eyes, always so full of fire, seemed eerily hollow. There was something off about the way she moved, like she was shaking but too stubborn to let it show.

“‘Bout time” Jinx muttered, voice rough, like she’d been holding back too much.

Vi frowned. “You okay ?” A stupid question. Of course she wasn’t.

Jinx let out a short, humorless laugh. “Peachy.”

Vi didn’t buy it. She could see it now—how Jinx was holding herself together by a thread. The slight tremble in her fingers as she let go of the table. The way her breath hitched, like she hadn’t been breathing right since she got here. Vi wanted to say something, do something, but for once, she wasn’t sure what Jinx needed. A hug ? Space ? A distraction ? Instead, she settled for standing close enough that Jinx would know she wasn’t alone. But then she noticed that her sister hadn’t been alone all this time. 

She froze when she saw someone else sitting there, looking like he’d been swallowed by the dark atmosphere of the room. Her eyes narrowed, surprised to find him here, but she didn’t comment on it immediately, though there was a brief moment of curiosity in her gaze. 

Vi said, her voice softer than usual. "You’re not with her, are you ? I don’t know what this is all about, but stay out of trouble."

Ekko blinked, his head snapping up. He had been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed her arrival. He gave her a small nod, saying nothing. There was no need to explain anything. He was already processing the tension of the last moments, the heated words, and the bitterness that had lingered between him and Jinx. There was something left unsaid in their exchange, something unfinished, and maybe something broken. He stood up, ready to leave, his mind still tangled in the mess of their conversation.

As he stepped out of the room, he could hear their voices, but they seemed to fade into the distance. He didn’t look back, his feet carrying him away from the morgue, leaving behind the mess of emotions, the confusion, and everything that had happened in that room.

Jinx barely noticed him leaving. She was still locked in her own mind, her gaze unfocused as she heard Vi speaking again, her voice still filled with concern. “Cait is staying with her parents tonight. Well, since I’m all alone, and that you could probably use a break.. You could come with me. An evening with your sisters. It's been a long time, but it's up to you, Pow Pow. ”

Vi’s voice was comforting, but Jinx only nodded in response, her mind still racing. She couldn’t find the words to speak. For now, she just wanted to go somewhere familiar, somewhere safe. Vi and Caitlyn’s place felt like the closest thing to that right now. Especially without Caitlyn. 

Vi took a step toward her, looking at Jinx with a mixture of concern and warmth. "You sure about this ?" she asked, her tone gentle, knowing how Jinx could be.

Jinx only nodded again, her lips pressing together in a tight line, trying to force down the feeling in her chest. Whatever was going on inside her, she didn’t know how to deal with it.

With a soft sigh, Vi motioned to the door, indicating they should leave. "Come on, then. Let's go home."

As Jinx stood up, she glanced over her shoulder one last time, her eyes catching the fading silhouette of Ekko down the hallway. A strange pang of something she couldn’t place tightened in her chest. But she pushed it aside. She didn’t need to think about that right now.

“Thanks, Vi” Jinx muttered, the words coming out quieter than she intended, but Vi seemed to hear it all the same.

They left the morgue, the sound of their footsteps echoing in the empty hallways as Ekko’s presence faded further behind them. As they made their way down the corridor, Jinx couldn’t help but feel a tug at her heart, an odd mix of relief and regret, but she said nothing.

For now, she would just keep moving forward.

As Jinx walked away from the morgue, the weight of the encounter clung to her like the lingering scent of antiseptic and death. Mylo’s voice still gnawed at the edges of her mind, whispering doubts, feeding insecurities. Her knuckles were white from how hard she clenched her fists, the sting grounding her, reminding her that she was here, now, not back in that room. She forced herself to breathe evenly, to keep her steps measured. Falling apart wasn’t an option, not here, not where Vi could see. Ekko had already seen too much. The way he looked at her before leaving made something twist inside her, but she shoved it down. She needed control, needed to compartmentalize.

By the time she reached Vi’s place, she had smoothed out the cracks, or at least buried them deep enough to function. But it wasn’t effortless. The moment she stepped inside, the warmth of the apartment, the familiarity of Vi’s presence—it all made it harder to keep the walls up. 

Jinx and Vi walked into the apartment, the door clicking shut behind them. The warm light of the living room contrasted sharply with the cool night air that clung to their clothes. Vi slipped out of her coat, a small frown still lingering on her face from the events of the evening. Jinx, meanwhile, went straight to the couch, already pulling off her shoes and stretching her legs out as she sighed. 

"Make yourself at home" Vi said, heading to the kitchen. "I’ll make us some hot chocolate."

Jinx nodded absently, her thoughts still lingering on Ekko, the argument, the strange pull she felt toward him even after everything. She hadn't expected it to go like that, not at all. She hadn't expected to feel anything at all.

Vi returned with two mugs of hot chocolate, the steam rising from them in gentle curls. She handed one to Jinx and took a seat next to her, studying her quietly. The exhaustion showed in the way her fingers trembled slightly when she reached for the hot chocolate Vi handed her. She caught herself and forced a smirk, an easy shrug, but Vi wasn’t an idiot. She had always seen through her. The transition wasn’t seamless. Jinx was still carrying the morgue with her, still hearing echoes of Mylo’s voice at the back of her mind. But here, in the safety of Vi’s space, the weight shifted—not gone, not forgotten, just pushed slightly further away.

After some time as if she waited for Jinx to compose herself, Vi spoke, her tone light but carrying a hint of concern. "The guy you were with in the morgue—he’s the one from the FDA, right ? Ekko, or whatever his name is ?"

Jinx took a sip of her drink, the warmth spreading through her, but it didn’t quite settle the coldness in her chest. She didn’t meet Vi’s eyes right away, her mind wandering back to their argument, the words they exchanged. "Yeah, it was him," she finally said, her voice softer than usual. "We got… caught up in a bit of a thing."

Vi’s gaze sharpened as she set her mug down on the table, crossing her arms over her chest. "A thing, huh ?" She studied Jinx for a long moment, her suspicion obvious.

Some time passed, the soft light of her apartment calming and smoothing. Jinx sat curled up on the couch, she had changed in Vi pajamas, cradling a new mug of hot chocolate. The worst had passed, but the night’s tension still clung to her like a stubborn shadow. Vi stood nearby, concern etched on her face as she regarded her sister carefully.

“Pow Pow” Vi began, her tone measured and cautious, “I’ve been thinking about tonight. About Ekko.”

Jinx’s gaze dropped to her swirling mug. “What about him ?” she asked quietly, not daring to meet Vi’s eyes.

Vi crossed her arms. “I don’t know him. Not really. And I worry that you’re letting him in, letting him get too close without knowing his true motives. Trust isn’t something you hand out lightly, you know.”

Jinx shifted, her fingers tapping nervously on the fabric of the couch. “I know, I’m not a child anymore ! I… just want to believe he’s here to help, that he’s looking for the truth like I am.” Her voice wavered with uncertainty rather than defiance.

“But can you really say you know him ?” Vi pressed gently. “He’s from the FDA, an organization with its own complicated agenda. God knows I don’t like Zaun Investigations, but at least I know you can trust them… Him .” It seemed Vi still had a hard time talking about her father, Silco.  “And you barely know anything about him beyond tonight. You might be letting your guard down, Powder.”

She hadn't told her about the night she had spent at his place, and there was no point in telling her now, since she certainly had ruined what little understanding they'd had. “You jinx everything you do, always did and will always do”’ Mylo seemed to laugh into her ears. Jinx sighed, ignoring him was a lot easier now that she wasn’t in the morgue anymore, and with Vi next to her. 

She stared at the steam rising from her mug. “I don’t have much choice, do I ? I’m chasing a case that’s been closed up tight, and he is too. If  he can help me break through that, then maybe it’s worth it.” She hesitated, uncertainty shadowing her features. “I just... I’m not sure what to make of him yet.”

Vi’s eyes softened with worry. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t work with him. I’m saying be cautious. He might be keeping things from you, things that could change everything. I don’t know him, but I know you’re too smart to trust someone you barely know without verifying their intentions.”

Jinx nodded slowly, the words sinking in. “Maybe you’re right,” she admitted in a low tone, her voice tinged with regret and apprehension. “I thought I could handle it, but… I don’t really know where he stands.”

Vi reached out and squeezed her sister’s hand. “Just promise me you won’t let this get the better of you, and that you will be cautious. You’re good at cutting through the lies, but sometimes the truth hides in the details. You're the smart one in the family, so I'm not too worried, but just so you know, if you have to kick the shit of someone, I'll be there.” 

Vi's words made her smile. For a long moment, the only sound was the distant hum of the city waking up. Jinx’s eyes drifted to the door, as if expecting Ekko to burst back in at any moment. But the quiet remained, heavy with unspoken doubts and fears.

Finally, Vi sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I’m heading out to bed. Caitlyn's parents drained me. You'd hate them. You can sleep in the usual room, alright ? You need to rest. Though, don’t forget about what I said alright ?”

Jinx managed a small, uncertain smile. “Yeah, I’ll… I’ll think about it.”

As Vi left, Jinx sat back, the mug warming her cold hands, and stared out the window at a world washed clean by the storm. In the silence of the aftermath, doubts and possibilities mingled in her mind, and she couldn’t help but wonder : had she let her guard down too soon, or was there something real in Ekko’s intentions ? 

Jinx lay on her back, staring at the ceiling of Vi and Caitlyn’s guest room. The bed was too soft, the blankets too heavy. It was quiet, too quiet.

She took a slow breath, waiting for the voices, for Mylo’s mocking tone or Claggor’s disappointed sigh. But there was nothing. Just the distant hum of the city outside. It had been a while since the last time it went this bad. Since the voices had gotten so loud, so real. Since she felt like she was slipping, cracking apart at the seams.

Silco’s voice came back to her, steady and low, the way he spoke when he really meant something. “ Then tread carefully, my dear.”

She clenched her jaw, exhaling slowly. Maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing to listen for once. Slow down. Let things settle. She wasn’t getting anywhere with the case anyway, spinning in circles, running into dead ends. And after tonight, after that, she really didn’t want to think about seeing Ekko again.

Not after the way she’d snapped. Not after the way she knows he’d look at her now.

Chapter Text

Autopsy Report

Case Number : 1625-ZA

Deceased : Viktor

Age : XX

Occupation : Scientist, Researcher

Date of Death : XX/XX/XXXX

Time of Death : Estimated between 11:30 PM – 01:00 AM

Location of Death : Private Laboratory, Piltover

External Examination :

Body found slumped over worktable. No signs of struggle or external injuries.

Slight cyanotic discoloration of lips and fingernails.

Severe atrophy and necrosis in the lower right leg, consistent with his known degenerative illness. Signs of chronic inflammation, though no recent infection present.

Hands tremorous, fingers rigid, likely indicative of neurological impairment prior to death.

Internal Examination :

Cause of Death : Acute respiratory failure due to ingestion of a neurotoxic agent.

Lungs showed mild pulmonary edema.

Brain exhibited signs of prolonged oxidative stress, consistent with prior illness but not lethal on its own.

Stomach contents included traces of herbal compounds not commonly associated with suicide agents.

Toxicology Report :

Presence of Drosylis myosotis extract, a neurotoxin derived from rare Piltover flora known to induce paralysis and respiratory failure.

Lethal concentration found in bloodstream and stomach contents.

The toxin is slow-acting, mimicking symptoms of progressive neurodegeneration before death.

No signs of forced administration ( no needle marks or external injuries ).

Conclusion :

Cause of death consistent with self-inflicted poisoning.

No immediate signs of external foul play.

Status : Officially ruled as suicide pending further investigation.

Notes and Irregularities:

Drosylis myosotis is not commercially available and requires precise refinement to be lethal.

The toxin's properties align with his preexisting illness, making it difficult to distinguish natural decline from poisoning.

Autopsy report marked confidential at the request of Piltover authorities.

The flickering candlelight dances across the smooth parchment, gilding inked words in molten gold. Mel holds the autopsy report between her fingers, delicate as pressed petals, yet weighted with unbearable truth. The edges curl before the fire even touches them, as if the paper itself senses its impending fate.

She watches, unmoving. The script detailing Viktor’s final moments, his suffering, the cruel mimicry of his illness, seems to breathe beneath her gaze. The Drosylis. A poison so insidious, so exact in its deception, it might have gone unnoticed. And yet, this document holds no power anymore. Not in her hands.

She lowers it to the flame.

The fire catches slow at first, licking the edges, curling the letters into blackened husks. A delicate funeral for the truth. The embers crackle, whispering secrets as the parchment shrinks and disintegrates into rising ash. A soft sigh, like an exhale from Viktor himself, ghosts through the room.

Mel does not flinch. Her fingers remain steady, her face unreadable. But deep in her chest, something tightens, like a silken thread pulling her ribs together, strangling breath. This is necessary. For Jayce. For Piltover. For whatever remains after grief carves its space between them.

He can’t know.

As the last ember dies, she presses a finger against the ashes. They smear against her skin, dark and weightless. She rubs them between her fingertips, feeling the remains of a life now erased.

And then she turns, stepping from the fire’s warmth into the shadowed corridor beyond.

She finds him in the study, seated at the grand desk that once felt too large for him, now dwarfed by his grief. A single glass of whiskey sits untouched before him, light refracting through amber liquid, trembling slightly as his fingers drum against the table.

“Jayce.”

He doesn’t startle at her voice, but his shoulders drop as if a weight has been lifted, if only slightly. He looks up, eyes rimmed with exhaustion, and something fragile flickers in them before he schools his expression into something harder, more resolute.

“Did you get it ?” His voice is hoarse, raw.

Mel hesitates for a fraction of a second, then shakes her head. “No.”

A breath, sharp and bitter, escapes him. He presses the heel of his palm to his forehead, as if trying to steady himself against a grief too vast to contain.

“I just… I don’t understand,” he murmurs. “Viktor wasn’t like that. He wouldn’t—he wouldn’t give up.”

She steps forward, silent as a shadow

She steps forward, silent as a shadow, until she’s close enough to see the fine tremor in his fingers. His hands, always steady, always capable, now shake against the weight of loss.

“Jayce” she says again, softer this time.

He exhales sharply, his hands curling into fists. “I should have seen it,” he mutters. “I should have known something was wrong.”

Mel watches him, studying the way grief has settled into his posture, hunched shoulders, drawn brows, the way his mouth tenses as if holding back something unspeakable.

She thinks about the report, about the cruel mimicry of Viktor’s illness, the deception crafted with surgical precision. The world believes he took his own life. And now, so does Jayce. Her hands move before she decides to touch him. Fingertips against his shoulder, a quiet offering of warmth. “You cared about him.”

Jayce flinches. His breath stutters, and for a moment, she wonders if she said the wrong thing. But then his head lowers, and something cracks behind his eyes.

“I did” he whispers.

He turns then, his body moving instinctively into hers. It’s been weeks since he sought her out, since he let himself fall into the familiarity of her presence. His arms wind around her waist, his face pressing against her shoulder, and his breath shudders against her skin.

Mel stills.

She has always been a pillar, elegant, immovable, untouched by the tides of emotion that so easily sweep others away. But now, with Jayce clinging to her like a drowning man, she lets herself soften. Even if she didn't want to admit it, she had missed her fiancé terribly. She knew she had to be patient with him, which she had been. Her heart gently raced as she touched him, though it remained clenched for a reason beyond her comprehension.

Her fingers weave into his hair, nails tracing small, soothing circles against his scalp. “You’re not alone,” she murmurs.

Jayce exhales, a sound dangerously close to a sob. His grip tightens, his arms around her strong enough to bruise.

For the first time in weeks, he lets himself lean on her.

And for the first time in weeks, she lets him.

Jayce doesn’t pull away, and neither does she. They stand there, locked in quiet grief, until the silence between them shifts, turning into something softer, something warm. His breathing evens, but he still clings to her. His face remains against her shoulder, his arms strong around her waist. Mel doesn’t mind. She lets him be.

When he finally lifts his head, their faces are close, closer than they’ve been in weeks.

Mel studies him in the dim light of the burning papers behind her. Shadows carve deep lines into his face, exhaustion hanging heavy in his eyes. But there’s something else there now, something raw. His gaze drops, flicking to her lips.

She should speak, should say something to break the moment before it unravels into something unintended, but she doesn’t. Instead, she lifts a hand to his face, her thumb tracing the sharp line of his cheekbone, down to the corner of his mouth. She knows he's not yet mentally stable, that he's still haunted by the ghost of his former partner, but she can't help it. He's the man she loves.

Jayce leans into the touch.

Slowly, hesitantly, he tilts his head forward.

It starts as the barest press of lips, so light she might have imagined it. But Jayce doesn’t pull away.

He lingers.

A breath passes between them. Then another.

And then, he kisses her again, properly this time.

There’s no urgency, no desperation, only the slow, aching pull of something rekindling. He kisses her like he’s relearning the shape of her, the warmth of her, the comfort she’s always offered but he’s neglected for too long. She lets him, equally rediscovering him.

She presses closer, her hand slipping to the nape of his neck, fingers threading into his hair. Jayce sighs into the kiss, his hands tightening at her waist before sliding up, one settling against her back, the other cupping her jaw.

For the first time in weeks, he kisses her like a man who remembers why he loved her.

And for the first time in weeks, she lets herself believe it.

When they finally part, Jayce exhales against her skin, his forehead resting against hers. His grip on her remains, like he’s afraid to let go.

“…Stay with me tonight,” he murmurs.

Mel doesn’t hesitate.

She takes his hand, leading him toward her room.

They don’t speak when they reach it. They simply shed their outer layers, slipping beneath the silk sheets, settling into the quiet. Jayce presses against her, burying his face into her shoulder once more. His arm wraps around her waist, holding her like a lifeline.

Mel closes her eyes.

She doesn’t let herself think about the report still smoldering in the fireplace, turning to nothing but ash.

For tonight, she lets the fire burn.

The fire burned low in the lab, casting long shadows over the scattered blueprints and half-finished projects. The world outside had quieted to a distant hum, but inside, time stretched between them like something fragile, waiting to break.

Jayce sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t get how you do it.”

Viktor didn’t look up from his work, the scratch of his pen against paper the only response at first. “Do what ?"

“This.” Jayce gestured vaguely at the mess of notes and sketches, the sleepless hours stretching behind them. “Keep going like this. Like you don’t even need to stop.”

Viktor smirked, finally setting his pen down. “And what would stopping accomplish ?”

Jayce hesitated. Viktor’s eyes were on him now, sharp, knowing, always one step ahead. Always seeing past whatever Jayce thought he was saying.

“We both know the answer” Viktor murmured.

The weight of those words settled between them, thick and charged. Jayce tapped his fingers against the desk, restless, unsure of what he was even reaching for.

Viktor stood, closing the small distance between them. His cane tapped against the floor, steady, grounding. Jayce glanced up at him, suddenly aware of how close they were, how easy it would be to just…

Viktor tilted his head, watching him. “You think too much.”

Jayce let out a breathless laugh. “And you don’t think enough ?”

“I think just enough.”

Viktor reached first, fingertips ghosting against Jayce’s wrist, barely there. A touch so light it could be dismissed, forgotten, if either of them chose to. But Jayce didn’t. He turned his palm up, letting their fingers press together, warm and steady.

Neither of them moved away.

Jayce swallowed, heartbeat stuttering against his ribs. “Viktor—”

He didn’t get to finish the sentence.

Viktor leaned in, his breath warm against Jayce’s lips, hesitation flickering for just a second before closing the distance. The kiss was soft, deliberate. Not rushed, not desperate, but something far deeper. A slow unraveling of everything left unsaid, the tension between them dissolving into something weightless.

Jayce sighed into it, hands finding Viktor’s waist, grounding himself in the press of their bodies. Viktor’s hand slid up, fingertips grazing his jaw before curling into his hair. The careful touch sent a shiver down Jayce’s spine, something melting in his chest, something that had been waiting for this, for him, for longer than he’d ever dared to admit.

When they finally parted, Jayce didn’t pull away. Their foreheads rested together, breaths mingling in the quiet space between them.

Viktor exhaled a soft laugh. “Took you long enough.”

Jayce huffed, pressing another kiss to the corner of his lips, slower this time. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Guess I just needed the right push.”

Viktor’s smile was small, but it reached his eyes. “Then let me remind you.”

And he kissed him again.

Jayce swallowed hard, his heart hammering against his ribs. Viktor was too close, his breath warm against Jayce’s lips, his eyes sharp and knowing. He had always been like this, always one step ahead, always understanding Jayce in ways he barely understood himself.

But this… this was different.

Jayce’s fingers flexed at Viktor’s waist, like he needed to hold on to something solid, something real. Viktor was real. The way he looked at him, the way his lips curved, not in amusement, not in mockery, but in quiet invitation.

“Stay,” Jayce said, the word slipping out before he could stop it. His voice was rougher than he intended, low and strained.

Viktor’s eyes softened. “I wasn’t going anywhere.”

Still, Jayce’s grip tightened, fingers curling in the fabric of Viktor’s shirt like he could anchor him there. Like he could make this moment last.

“I mean it,” Jayce said, quieter now. “Stay.”

Viktor’s smile flickered, something fond, something careful, before he leaned in again, brushing his lips over Jayce’s like a promise.

“I know,” Viktor whispered.

Jayce let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

And then he kissed him.

This time, there was no hesitation. Just warmth, Viktor’s fingers threading back into his hair, Jayce’s hand sliding up his back, drawing him closer until their bodies pressed flush together. Jayce felt Viktor smile against his mouth, felt the way he exhaled, like he had been waiting for this, maybe not forever, but long enough. He deepened the kiss, slow but firm, his fingers sliding up Viktor’s back, pulling him closer. Viktor made a soft sound against his lips, a quiet hum of satisfaction, and that was all the encouragement Jayce needed.

He tilted his head, parting his lips just enough to taste the warmth of Viktor’s breath, the faint bitterness of the tea he always drank. Viktor’s fingers traced a path from Jayce’s hair down to the line of his jaw, his touch featherlight, deliberate.

Jayce sighed into him, his other hand coming up to cup Viktor’s face, his thumb brushing along his cheekbone. The moment stretched between them, unhurried, as if neither of them wanted to let go.

When they finally parted, Viktor’s forehead rested against his, their breaths mingling in the quiet.

“No overthinking,” Viktor murmured, his voice slightly breathless.

Jayce huffed a laugh, his thumb still tracing idle circles against Viktor’s waist. “No promises.”

Viktor shook his head, his smile small but genuine. “Hopeless.”

Jayce grinned, pressing another kiss to the corner of his lips. “You like me anyway.”

Viktor let out a soft chuckle, his grip tightening at Jayce’s nape. “Unfortunately.”

Jayce laughed, and for the first time in a long time, everything felt right.

Until it didn't. Reality wasn't so sweet any more, and as if the world wanted to throw it back in his face, he woke up with a start.

His breath came in ragged gasps, his chest tight like a vice was crushing it. His face was damp, but whether from sweat or tears, he didn’t know. His body felt heavy, sinking into the mattress like he was drowning in something unseen.

Viktor’s warmth was gone. His voice, that quiet, teasing lilt, was gone.

It had been a dream. A memory, twisted by sleep and longing.

Jayce stared at the ceiling, his breath uneven, heart still pounding from the dream. His skin felt damp, his throat tight, as if he had just lived through it again, the warmth of Viktor’s touch, the quiet weight of his voice, the closeness they had shared. But it was just a memory, long past.

Beside him, Mel slept soundly, her back turned to him, unaware of the storm inside him. He watched her for a moment, guilt settling in his chest like a stone. She had never known. She still didn’t. And maybe it was better that way.

Viktor had wanted to tell her.

Their last conversation had been a fight, tense and cutting, because Viktor, exhausted, unrelenting, had said, “I am tired of hiding, Jayce. Of being your secret.”

Jayce had been the one to resist. Not because he was ashamed, never that, but because he had been afraid. Afraid of what it would mean to say it out loud. Afraid of how Mel would look at him. Afraid of losing everything he had built.

And now… now Viktor was gone.

Jayce exhaled sharply, rubbing his hands over his face.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

The room was still, save for the steady rise and fall of Mel’s breathing beside him.She was curled on her side, her dark hair spilling over the pillow, one arm draped loosely across his waist. Peaceful. Unknowing.

Jayce swallowed hard and wiped a hand over his face, as if that could erase the ache in his chest.

She didn’t know.

She hadn’t known about Viktor, about the quiet moments behind closed doors, the stolen glances, the touches that lingered just a second too long. The way Viktor had laughed against his lips, like he was amused Jayce had finally figured it out.

She hadn’t known that when Viktor had died, Jayce had lost more than just a partner.

And maybe… maybe it was better if she never did.

Jayce exhaled shakily, sinking back into the pillows. Mel stirred slightly, mumbling something incoherent before settling again, her fingers twitching against his side.

He turned his head, watching her, feeling the warmth of her body next to his.

She was here. Viktor wasn’t.

Jayce exhaled slowly, staring up at the ceiling. His body still felt heavy, but it wasn’t just from exhaustion, it was something deeper, a weight pressing down on his ribs. He told himself it was for the best. That was how he managed to sleep at night. Viktor had been sick for so long. Longer than anyone really understood. Jayce had seen it up close, the way Viktor’s hands would tremble when he thought no one was looking, the way he leaned against the lab table just to stay upright. The way his breath sometimes hitched like every inhale was a battle.

It would’ve been a painful death.

A slow one.

Jayce’s jaw clenched. He didn’t want to believe it. He didn’t want to think that Viktor had—

But maybe… maybe he had.

He’d been working himself to the bone. He wouldn’t let anyone help him. Not even Jayce. And towards the end—

Towards the end, he’d been distant. Withdrawn in a way that felt different. Final.

Maybe Viktor had known something Jayce didn’t. Maybe he’d seen the inevitable and just… chosen his way out.

Jayce pressed his fingers against his temple, trying to stop his thoughts from spiraling. He didn’t want to believe it. But what was the alternative ?

Murder ? The word sent an ugly shiver down his spine. It was absurd. Who would do that ? Who would kill Viktor ? Jayce turned onto his side, facing Mel’s sleeping form. She wouldn’t understand. She’d be pragmatic, logical, like she always was. He was her fiancé. She wanted to move forward. The weight of exhaustion pressed against his skull, but his mind wouldn’t quiet. Perhaps because of his dream, perhaps because he would never succeed in moving forward.

The detectives. Jinx from Zaun Investigation. Ekko from the Firelights Detective Agency.

He had hired the first on impulse, and the other on Heimerdinger’s recommendation. Said it would give him clarity. That if Jayce couldn’t accept it, an investigation might put his doubts to rest. But had there ever been anything to doubt ? He was convinced that there had to be more to Viktor’s death. That there had to be another answer.

But what if he had done all of this for nothing ?

What if, deep down, he had just refused to accept the truth ?

Viktor had been sick. Dying. Jayce had seen it in every labored breath, every moment his friend had tried to hide his pain. Maybe he hadn’t been able to watch himself waste away. Maybe… he had chosen the only way out that made sense to him.

Jayce swallowed hard.

He’d spent so much time trying to prove otherwise. Chasing shadows. Refusing to believe that Viktor, brilliant, stubborn Viktor, would have made that choice.

But wasn’t that just his own selfishness talking ?

He had spent so long fighting, clinging to life, desperate to see his work through. But the disease had been cruel, worsening every day. The pain had crept into his voice, his movements. Jayce had seen it, had tried to ignore it. If Viktor had chosen to end it on his own terms… wasn’t that for the best ?

Maybe it was time to accept it.

Maybe it was time to let Viktor go.

Jayce turned onto his side, pressing his forehead against his arm. Mel shifted beside him, but she didn’t wake. He had to be careful. Had to push this down.

Because the worst part wasn’t just losing Viktor.

It was the thought that, if Viktor hadn’t taken his own life, if someone else had made that choice for him, Jayce had let it happen. And he would never know.

Jayce closed his eyes, willing himself back to sleep, but the ghost of a kiss still burned against his lips while his voice still lingered in his mind, sharp, familiar, and impossible to silence.

Ekko stirs at the sound of a knock, soft, hesitant, barely breaking through the quiet hum of the night. His eyes blink open, sluggishness clinging to his limbs as he pushes himself up from his workbench. He doesn’t even remember falling asleep while working on the case.

Another knock.

A strange tension coils in his stomach as he moves toward the door, heart beating a little faster than it should. He already knows who it is before he even opens it.

Jinx.

She stands there, hands buried in the oversized pockets of her hoodie, eyes holding something unreadable. Something unfinished. She looks different like this, less like the sharp-edged girl always armed with a smirk and more like something quieter, something real. Her lips are slightly parted, her gaze locked on him, as if waiting for him to say something first.

For a moment, neither of them move. The space between them is taut, charged with something unsaid. Then she tilts her head, and for a split second, he catches the flicker of amusement in her eyes, like she’s been waiting for him to catch up.

Ekko exhales, stepping closer, watching the way her breathing slows, the slight dilation of her pupils. He doesn’t think, doesn’t question it. His fingers brush lightly against the inside of her wrist, so soft it could be accidental. But she doesn’t pull away. If anything, she leans into it.

"Hey" she murmurs, her voice lacking its usual sharpness.

Ekko leans against the doorframe, watching her. "Hey."

Neither of them moves. The last time they were truly alone like this was the night of the storm, when the air had felt thick with something unspoken, something on the verge of happening. Then the morgue. The fight. The accusations. The part where everything almost shattered.

Jinx shifts, her gaze flicking to his before darting away. “You gonna let me in, or just stand there staring at me all night ?”

Ekko exhales a quiet laugh, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and steps aside. She slips past him with an ease that feels practiced, like she belongs here. But they both know she doesn’t. Not really. She pauses in the middle of the room, eyes sweeping over the scattered blueprints, the half-finished projects, the tangled mess of his thoughts laid bare on his desk. Her fingers trace the edge of a design absentmindedly, like she’s trying to understand him through the things he’s built.

Ekko watches her, noting the restless energy in the way she shifts her weight, the way the dim light catches in her hair. But tonight, something about her is different. He wonders if she feels it too, the weight hanging between them, unspoken.

Then she turns, meeting his gaze, and for the first time tonight, she hesitates.

“You've been thinking about it too ?” she asks, tilting her head.

Ekko doesn’t need to ask what she means. He swallows, throat tight.

"Yeah."

That’s all it takes.

Jinx steps forward, closing the space between them like gravity is pulling her in, like this was always inevitable. Her hands press against his chest, sliding up to curl around his collar, tugging him down just enough for their lips to brush. It’s slow at first, hesitant. Then it’s not. Then it’s fingers gripping fabric, a breathless tangle of urgency, of lips parting and hands searching.

She tastes like gunpowder and something softer beneath it, something unmistakably her.

Ekko’s hands find her waist, then her back, pulling her closer, deeper. His mind is hazy, thoughts slipping through the cracks of sensation, of warmth, of want.

Jinx doesn’t pull away.

She surges forward instead, kissing him harder, fiercer, like she’s been starving for this. For him.

Ekko barely has time to think before he’s matching her intensity, his grip tightening around her waist as he backs her up against the workbench. A few scattered tools clatter to the floor, but neither of them pays it any mind. His pulse is a drumbeat in his ears, drowning out everything except the press of her body, the way her nails graze against the back of his neck, sending a shiver straight down his spine.

She tilts her head, deepening the kiss, teeth grazing his lower lip before she smirks against his mouth, like she knows exactly what she’s doing to him. That sharp edge, the thrill of unpredictability, it’s always been her. And damn if it doesn’t make his head spin.

Ekko exhales sharply, hands sliding lower, gripping her hips as she lifts herself onto the workbench with a soft, amused hum. “Someone’s eager,” she teases, but there’s heat in her voice, a challenge laced between the words.

Ekko huffs a laugh against her lips. “Look who’s talking.”

Jinx’s response is immediate, she tugs him forward by the collar, legs bracketing his hips as she pulls him closer, the space between them all but vanishing. It’s dizzying, the way she moves, the way she fits against him like she was always meant to.

And then, bang.

The sharp crack of something hitting the floor snaps through the air, splitting through the haze between them. They both freeze. Jinx blinks, glancing to the side. One of his half-finished projects lies in pieces at their feet, wires spilling out like exposed veins.

A beat of silence.

Then Jinx snorts. “Whoops.”

Ekko groans, pressing his forehead against her shoulder with a muttered, “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

Jinx grins, tapping a finger against his temple. “Nah. Not tonight.”

But her voice is softer now, the sharp edge giving way to something quieter. Her fingers trail along his jaw, tracing the curve of his cheek, and when he lifts his head, her gaze is steady, searching.

Neither of them speaks for a moment. The air still hums between them, thick with everything that hasn’t been said.

Then Jinx exhales, rolling her shoulders like she’s shaking something off. “Guess I should let you get back to work,” she says, but she doesn’t move, doesn’t let go.

Ekko studies her, the way her fingers linger just a second too long, the way her lips are still slightly parted, swollen from their kiss. He could let her go. He should.

But instead, he smirks. “Yeah, not happening.”

And then he’s kissing her again, stealing whatever sarcastic remark was about to leave her mouth, and this time, when she grins against his lips, she doesn’t stop him.

Ekko barely registers the moment Jinx pulls him deeper, her body molding against his as if she’s always meant to fit there. The way she kisses him, hot, insistent, full of that reckless energy she carries into everything, sets his nerves on fire.

His hands grip her hips, fingers digging in just enough to make her gasp against his lips. It’s a sound that goes straight to his head, to his chest, to everywhere. Jinx must know, because she tilts her head, kissing him again, harder this time, like she’s testing how much of him she can take before he breaks.

Her fingers move fast, tugging at his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders, then working at the buttons of his shirt with the kind of urgency that makes his head spin. He’s losing himself in her, in the way she tastes, in the way it’s like they were made for each other. She tugs at his shirt, her hands slipping underneath, nails raking lightly across his skin. He shudders at the sensation, his grip tightening as he pushes her back against the wall, crowding her in. She doesn’t resist. She never resists. If anything, she arches into him, breath hitching as his mouth moves from her lips to her jaw, then lower, trailing heat along the curve of her throat.

Jinx tilts her head back, giving him more, her fingers tangled in his hair. “Damn,” she breathes, voice husky, teasing, but with an edge of something raw. “Didn’t know you had it in you.”

Ekko exhales a rough laugh, his breath warm against her skin. “You talk too much.”

She barely gets the chance to fire back before he’s kissing her again, swallowing whatever smug remark was forming on her lips. His hands wander, skimming the edge of her hoodie, slipping beneath to feel the heat of her against his palms. She gasps at the contact, a sharp intake of breath that only fuels the way he presses her harder against the wall, leaving no space between them.

Jinx’s grip tightens in his hair, her other hand slipping under his shirt in return, dragging her nails down his stomach. Ekko hisses at the sensation, his body reacting on instinct, pushing into her touch like he needs more, more, more.

Jinx notices. Of course she does. And she smirks.

“You’re—” He doesn’t get the words out. She rolls her hips just enough to make him lose his train of thought, just enough to send a sharp jolt of heat through him. His fingers dig into her waist, breath coming out ragged, and she leans up, lips brushing against his ear.

“What was that ?” she whispers, voice dripping with amusement.

Ekko curses under his breath, barely holding on, barely keeping himself together when all he wants to do is let go. He is drowning in her. In the heat of her mouth, the scrape of her nails, the way her body winds around his like she belongs there, like she knows exactly what she’s doing to him.

Her hoodie is half off, bunched up between them as he pushes her against the wall, hands gripping her thighs, lifting her just enough for her legs to lock around his waist. Jinx gasps against his lips, and fuck, that sound—it wrecks him. He rolls his hips into her, feeling the delicious friction that makes her shudder, her fingers twisting in his hair, yanking just enough to send sparks down his spine.

She’s relentless. Dangerous. A live wire sparking in his hands, and he’s more than willing to burn.

Her lips trace his jaw, down to his throat, teeth scraping over his pulse. “You always this easy, or just for me ?” she murmurs, voice low, teasing, hungry.

Ekko doesn’t answer. He’s too busy sliding his hands under her hoodie, palms trailing fire up her sides, feeling the heat of her skin against his own. Jinx lets out a sharp breath, her body tightening around him, her hips rolling against his in a way that has his head spinning, has him gripping her harder just to stay grounded.

Then she leans in, mouth brushing his ear, her breath hot and maddening.

“Come on, Firelight,” she whispers. “Take what you want.”

And Ekko—Ekko snaps.

He crashes his mouth to hers, no hesitation, no second-guessing. Just raw, unfiltered want. Their bodies move together, desperate, reckless, like something inevitable finally catching fire. His fingers slide higher, feeling her arch into his touch, her breath catching as she presses closer, closer—

And then—

The world explodes.

Ekko jerks awake with a violent gasp, heart hammering, breath sharp and ragged like he’s just surfaced from deep underwater. For a second, he doesn’t know where he is. The lingering heat of her touch, the feel of her against him, it’s so real, too real—

But it’s gone. She’s gone.

Instead, he’s alone in his room, sweat-drenched, pulse erratic, his whole body on edge like he’s still caught in the dream, still waiting for her to pull him back under.

The breath leaves his lungs in a sharp exhale as his eyes snap open, the dark of his room pressing in around him. His pulse hammers against his ribs, his skin too hot, still tingling from the ghost of a touch that was never real, his head too foggy. For a split second, he swears he can still feel her. He squeezes his eyes shut, exhaling through his nose.

His mind scrambles to catch up. The dim light filtering through his window tells him it’s early, maybe too early, but sleep is out of the question now. 

Reality crashes back. It was just a dream.

A dream.

Ekko presses his palms over his face, groaning. He’s so, so screwed.

“What the hell was that ?”

He scrubs a hand over his face, willing the memory to fade, but it clings to him. The way she looked at him. The way she felt. Her breath against his lips, her fingers tracing over his skin like she had every right to be there.

Ekko swears under his breath, sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He runs a hand through his hair, frustration curling in his gut. Of all the people, of all the things his subconscious could throw at him, why her ? Especially after what happened at the morgue. They could barely stand each other most of the time. It was even worse between them now, he figured. She drove him up the damn wall with her reckless attitude, her smart mouth, her impossible-to-read expressions. And yet...

Yet.

He curses under his breath, scrubbing a hand over his face, willing himself to shake it off. But his body isn’t listening, the remnants of his dream clinging to him like static, leaving him restless, frustrated, and, damn it , aching for something that had never even happened.

Jinx.

Always her. Everywhere. In the way she haunted him in daylight, sharp and reckless, all smirks and sharp words. But no, this had been different. This had been something raw, something intimate, something that left a very real, very inconvenient problem beneath the sheets.

"Shit," he mutters, exhaling hard.

He turns his head, eyes falling on the mess of blueprints still scattered across his desk, his unfinished projects and notebook staring back at him like a reminder of how badly his focus has slipped. He needs to get his head straight. He needs to stop thinking about her like this, like she’s something soft, something he wants to reach for in the dark.

Because she isn’t.

His jaw tightens. It was just a dream. A weird, too-real, definitely unwelcome dream. That’s all. He’s had dreams before, stress dreams, weird nonsense dreams, even the occasional inappropriate one, but never about her. Never about Jinx.

Or Powder.

His brow furrows. That name has been scratching at the back of his head ever since her sister said it. He never thought about Jinx having another name before, never questioned it. But now he wonders.

Why Jinx ?

He turns onto his side, fingers drumming against his pillow. He shouldn’t care. It’s not his business. But the way “Vi” said it, like it was natural, like it was obvious, makes him feel like he’s missing something.

Why would she abandon a name like that ? What happened to turn Powder into Jinx ?

And then there was the morgue.

He frowns, remembering the way she changed in there. At first, she was the same as always, sharp words, teasing smirks, that cocky confidence that pissed him off as much as it intrigued him. But when the lights went out, when they were trapped in the dark, she shifted.

Jumpy. Defensive. Angry.

She dug her nails into her skin, paced like a caged animal, lashed out at him for nothing. At the time, he chalked it up to her usual unpredictable nature, but now… Now he’s not so sure.

The Jinx he knows, loud, reckless, always in control, wasn’t the Jinx he saw that night.

And that unsettles him more than he wants to admit.

Ekko rubs a hand down his face, staring at the dim ceiling of his room. His mind is a mess, she’s a mess, and so is whatever the hell this thing is between them.

If it even is something.

Right now, it’s not a partnership. It’s not friendship. It sure as hell isn’t whatever his subconscious decided to throw at him in that dream.

It’s fragile. Barely even real.

And after last night, after the way he pushed her when she was already on edge, does he even have the right to go talk to her ? To bring it up ?

She wasn’t okay. He saw that. The way she paced, the way she dug into her own skin, the way her voice sharpened into something desperate and defensive, it wasn’t just anger. And still, he pushed. He always pushes when it comes to her.

Because she gets under his skin.

Because he doesn’t trust her.

Because he wants to trust her.

And that’s the part that bothers him the most.

Why does he even care so much ? Why does it matter to him if she’s okay or not ? If he upset her ? If she—

He exhales, rolling onto his side.

She’s nothing to him.

Not a friend. Not an enemy. Not even a real rival. They’re just two people forced into the same mess, working from different angles. Colleagues, if that.

And yet, even that word feels wrong. Too distant. Too impersonal.

But what else is there ?

Ekko shuts his eyes, willing himself back to sleep, but his thoughts refuse to settle.

Colleagues. Yeah, that doesn’t sit right. It doesn’t explain the way he keeps thinking about her, the way his mind keeps circling back to the fire in her eyes, the sharp edge in her voice, the way she unraveled right in front of him.

If she was just another face in this tangled mess, he wouldn’t be lying here, questioning everything. He wouldn’t be wondering if he should go find her, if he should apologize, if he even has the right to.

But maybe that’s exactly why he shouldn’t.

They’re not friends. They’re not anything. They’re standing on opposite ends of the same investigation, and maybe that’s how it should stay.

It’s not his business.

Just like Silco isn’t his business.

Except it is. Because Zaun Investigation is neck-deep in this case, and Silco’s the one pulling the strings. And he knows Jinx would take that personally, he saw it last night when he called her out for working under him. But what else was he supposed to say ? Zaun Investigation doesn’t serve people, it serves Silco. That’s how it’s always been. A private firm doesn’t get that much power in the Undercity without getting its hands dirty. And if Silco’s involved in Viktor’s murder, it wouldn’t even be surprising.

Viktor was a Piltover scientist, a genius with a mind decades ahead of its time. But he was also from Zaun. Born there, raised there. He fought to prove himself, fought to stand among the people who looked down on him his whole life.

And what if that’s the problem ?

Zaun doesn’t take kindly to its own siding with Piltover. And if Viktor was working on something big, something that could shake the balance of power, what if Silco saw that as a threat ? Viktor wasn’t just a scientist. He was an innovator. If he was developing something new, something dangerous, something that could change everything, then maybe, just maybe, someone in Zaun didn’t want to risk it falling into Piltover’s hands.

Someone like Silco.

Ekko frowns. It’s just a theory. A bad one, probably. But the pieces do fit.

And if that’s true… then what does that mean for Jinx ?

Ekko’s mind is running in circles.

If it’s not Silco, then who ?

Who would have the power, the means, the motive ?

Who could do something like this ?

His gut tells him it’s not just about Viktor. It’s about whatever he was working on. Something worth killing for.

His hand twitches toward his notebook before he even realizes it—ready to start digging again, ready to—

BZZZT. BZZZT.

His heart jumps as the screen lights up : Heimerdinger .

Ekko hesitates, then answers. “Professor ?”

“Ah, Ekko ! I apologize for the early hour, but I believe I may have come across something, or rather, someone, that warrants your attention.”

Ekko sits up, rubbing a hand down his face. “I’m listening.”

“I was at the Firelights headquarters yesterday, reviewing some case files, when a young girl caught my attention.” Heimerdinger’s voice is even, but there’s an urgency beneath it. “She doesn’t speak, but she made it very clear that she wished to speak to you.”

Ekko frowns. “What do you mean ?”

“She showed me a picture of you, one from a small Zaunite publication. I believe she must have seen it somewhere before. She was quite insistent.”

Ekko swings his legs out of bed, already reaching for his jacket. “What did she look like ?”

“A small girl. Very young. Dark hair, big eyes. She seemed… determined. And though she did not speak, her intent was unmistakable.”

A girl who doesn’t talk. A girl who somehow knows him. A girl who has something to say.

And if she’s looking for him ?

Then she must know something worth listening to. Or worse, have something terrible going on. 

“She’s here again waiting in front of the batiment, if you would like to meet her.”

Ekko clenches his jaw, scanning the empty street as he approaches Heimerdinger, who is waiting for him outside FDA’s building. The old yordle's ears twitch, his bushy brows furrowed in deep concern.

Ekko doesn’t even have to ask. He already knows.

“She’s gone, isn’t she ?”

Heimerdinger sighs, rubbing his forehead. “Ah, yes… most unfortunate. One moment she was sitting right here, watching me with the most fascinating intensity, and the next—poof ! Vanished, like a particle dissipating into the ether !” He shakes his head, his ears drooping slightly. “I had merely stepped away to prepare a spot of tea, thinking it might help her feel at ease, but upon my return. Well, you see the result.”

Ekko curses under his breath. "She didn’t say anything ?"

"Not a single word. Though I dare say her eyes spoke volumes ! She was studying me, assessing me, as though running some careful equation in her mind. A most peculiar child…” Heimerdinger strokes his beard in thought. “But I do know one thing for certain. She was looking for you, not anyone else.”

Ekko narrows his eyes. “How can you be sure ?”

“She showed me something, a newspaper clipping, terribly crumpled, as if she had carried it for quite some time. It was from a small Zaun publication, an article about you and your work with the orphanage.” Heimerdinger tilts his head. “She recognized you, Ekko. Sought you out specifically. And yet, the moment I turned my back…” He gestures toward the alleyway. “She disappeared.”

Ekko stiffens, his mind racing. If she went through the trouble of tracking him down, why run ? Did she change her mind ? Did something spook her ?

His pulse quickens. He doesn’t know who this girl is or what she wants.

But she sure as hell knows him. And if she knows him, that certainly means she needs him.

Jinx moved through the rooftops of Zaun like she belonged there, because she did. The city was hers in a way few people understood. From up here, away from the noise, the grime, the expectations, she could breathe. The cool air bit at her skin, the metal beneath her boots familiar and steady as she settled on the edge of a rooftop, gazing over the neon-drenched streets below. She exhaled slowly, rolling her shoulders, trying to shake off the weight clinging to her since Vi dropped her off.

The night had been… strange. Not bad, not exactly, but the walls had felt too close. Too warm. Too safe. Vi and Caitlyn’s home was nice, and she hated how much that got under her skin. The way the bed had been soft, the hot chocolate rich, the air filled with the kind of ease she hadn’t known in years. It made her restless. So here she was, wandering rooftops like she used to, before work, before investigations, before him.

Her fingers twitched against her thigh. Ekko. She groaned, flopping onto her back, staring up at the smog-covered sky. She didn’t want to think about him. About their fight. About the morgue. About how, for a second, she thought—

No.

Didn’t matter. They weren’t friends. Weren’t allies. Weren’t anything.

She scowled at the name, at the memory of his damn face when Vi called her Powder. She knew he caught that. Knew it lit something in that big brain of his. And now, knowing him, he’d be thinking. Piecing things together.

Just two people who kept getting in each other’s way.

It was quieter up here, away from the suffocating press of people, away from Vi’s words still rattling around in her head.

She rolled a bullet between her fingers absentmindedly. Ekko could have his own agenda.

“Yeah, well,” she muttered to herself, flicking the bullet into the air and catching it. “So could anybody.”

Jinx stretched her arms over her head, feeling the warmth of the midday sun filtering through the smog. Her eyes drifted, half-focused, over the streets below. That’s when she saw her, a small figure moving with careful steps, her dark eyes darting around, as if she were searching for something. Jinx didn’t pay attention to her at first, but there was something off about the way she moved. Not like a kid lost in daydreams, but like a rat in a city full of hungry cats.

Jinx tracked her idly, not really thinking much of it. But then, from the other side of the street, two men slowed their pace. A little too much interest in their eyes.

She sat up straighter.

The girl turned a corner, stepping into the shadow of a rusted-out bridge. Jinx couldn’t hear what was being said, but the way the men followed, one cutting off the exit, the other stepping in closer, set something sharp in her gut.

Her fingers flexed.

For a second, she told herself it wasn’t her problem. She didn’t do this kind of thing. The kid wasn’t her business. But then…A rough shove. The girl stumbled back against the bridge’s metal frame, her expression shifting from wary to outright alarm.

Jinx was already moving.

She hit the street in a crouch, the impact rolling up her legs, and straightened with a slow, deliberate ease. One of the men was talking, something greasy, something meant to be coaxing, but he snapped his mouth shut when Jinx whistled low and sharp.

“Hey, boys,” she called, tilting her head. “Didn’t your moms ever tell you not to corner little kids ?”

Both men turned, their expressions flickering from irritation to something more cautious as they took in who, exactly, was talking to them.

Jinx grinned. “Oh, don’t stop on my account. You were getting to the good part.”

The bigger one, the one blocking the alley, recovered first. He squinted at her, recognizing her but not quite knowing what to do with that recognition. “Ain’t your business,” he grunted. “We’re just talkin’.”

“Yeah ? Funny, ‘cause it looked like you were being creepy as hell.” Jinx rocked back on her heels, giving them an easy, careless shrug. “Guess that’s a bad habit of yours, huh ?”

The second man, leaner, sharper, probably the mouthier of the two, glanced between her and the kid. “Come on, we’re not doing anything. Just making sure she’s not lost.”

Jinx raised a brow. Then, in a blur, she pulled her gun from its holster and fired a shot, just past his ear. The bullet punched into the bridge’s metal frame, rattling the structure.

The man flinched hard. The other one took a step back.

Jinx smiled. “Oops. Sorry. Gun slipped.”

The girl hadn’t moved. She just stared at Jinx with wide, unblinking eyes, like she was trying to understand something way bigger than what had just happened.

The lean man held up his hands. “Okay. Okay. We’re leaving.”

“Wow. So reasonable.” Jinx gave a mock-pout, lowering her gun just slightly. “You boys have a good day now.”

They didn’t need telling twice. They left fast, throwing nervous glances over their shoulders.

Jinx let them go. Then, after a beat, she turned to the girl. “Well ?”

Still, the kid said nothing.

Jinx frowned. She’d expected at least something, a muttered thanks, a huffy ‘I could’ve handled it,’ something. But the girl just stood there, staring up at her like she was trying to put a puzzle together.

Jinx sighed, rubbing at the back of her neck. “Okay, I did my good deed, you gonna stand there all day or ?”

The girl reached into her coat. Jinx tensed on instinct, but all she pulled out was a piece of paper. Small. Worn.

She held it up for Jinx to see.

Jinx narrowed her eyes, stepping in closer.

It was a photo.

And in it, Viktor .

Her fingers twitched.

“Where the hell did you get that ?”

The evening light filtered through the tall windows of Viktor’s lab, casting long shadows over the carefully arranged blueprints and scattered tools. The scent of machine oil and metal filled the air, but it was softened by the faint aroma of tea, its steam curling lazily from the cup beside him.

The teacup rattled slightly as Viktor set it down in front of her, his thin fingers lingering on the delicate porcelain before he pulled away. The little girl, small, quiet, eyes wide with curiosity, peered at the cup, then up at him, as if expecting some kind of instruction.

“It’s not very sweet, I’m afraid,” Viktor admitted with a small, wry smile, leaning back in his chair. “Tea is… an acquired taste.”

She sniffed at the steam curling up from the cup, her nose scrunching slightly. He chuckled at that, light, breathy, almost as if he wasn’t used to the sound himself.

“Go on,” he urged, watching as she hesitantly brought the cup to her lips. The first sip had her wincing, her expression twisting into something between confusion and betrayal. Viktor laughed, a genuine one this time, warm despite its raspiness. “Yes, I suppose that is the expected reaction.”

She set the cup down carefully, then turned her attention to the plate of cookies beside it. Much safer. She nibbled on one while watching him, head tilting slightly like she was trying to figure him out.

Viktor studied her in turn, his gaze softer than usual, distant in a way that spoke of thoughts reaching far beyond the present moment. He sighed, adjusting his position, his leg stretched out just slightly more than the other. “You know,” he started, voice quieter now, more thoughtful, “I have always believed that the future could be built.”

She blinked at him, chewing slowly.

He smiled, but after a moment, his gaze drifted past her, toward the schematics spread before him, the intricate designs of mechanical limbs, notes scrawled in the margins about neural connectivity and adaptive motion. 

“These,” he said, tapping one of the blueprints, “are my dreams.”

He gestured vaguely with one hand, as if shaping the thought in the air. “A future where no one has to struggle to stand. Where no one is held back by illness, by the limits of their own body. I believe in machines, not to replace us, but to help us. To make us… more.”

She watched him closely, her small fingers fidgeting with the cookie.

Viktor leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees, his golden eyes glowing faintly in the dim light of the lab. “Wouldn’t that be wonderful ?” he asked, almost to himself. “To see a world where people don’t suffer simply because they were born different ? Where they can run, work, create, without fear of their own bodies failing them ?” His fingers ghosted over the lines of his own cane, almost absentmindedly. “I want to build something that will change the world. Not for those who already have everything… but for those who need it most.”

The girl didn’t answer. But she didn’t need to.

She simply stared, head tilting in that same curious way, as if trying to understand the weight of his words. Then, slowly, she held out the remaining half of her cookie to him.

Viktor blinked. And then, he smiled. Not the polite, restrained kind he often gave colleagues, but something real. Something small, fleeting, but real.

He took the offered cookie with a quiet, amused chuckle. “A fair trade,” he murmured, breaking off a piece and popping it into his mouth.

The little girl beamed at him, pleased with the exchange, then reached for the teacup again, determined, perhaps, to make herself like it this time. She took another sip, and immediately made a face, scrunching up her nose so dramatically that Viktor almost choked on his own laughter.

“Yes, I don’t blame you,” he said, shaking his head. “But you will understand one day. Some things take time.”

She didn’t seem convinced. But she stayed, her presence a small, quiet comfort in the vast loneliness of the lab.

And for a little while, Viktor allowed himself to believe in that future.

Then, from the window, a flicker of movement. Viktor turned his head just as a butterfly drifted in, its wings like ivory and sunlight, impossibly delicate against the cold edges of metal and glass. It glided through the air, weightless, as if drawn by the soft hum of machinery. The girl’s breath hitched in quiet wonder, her eyes locked onto the creature as it fluttered closer. A pale shape fluttered into the room, moving with a weightless grace that didn’t belong in a place like this. Its wings shimmered in the dim light, an intricate blend of white and gold, delicate yet vivid, as if it had been plucked from a world far removed from this one. A butterfly. It hovered for a moment, tracing slow, deliberate circles in the air before drifting toward Viktor, as if drawn to him.

For a moment, it hovered near Viktor’s shoulder, almost as if considering him. He didn’t notice at first. His golden eyes were distant, lost in thoughts too vast to be contained in a single conversation. But then, his body betrayed him. A cough, deep, rough, the kind that scraped at his ribs, ripped through the quiet. He pressed a fist to his mouth, his other hand gripping the edge of the desk as he struggled to suppress it.

The butterfly hesitated mid-air, its delicate wings quivering.

The girl’s head snapped toward Viktor, her wide eyes dark with concern. She clutched the edge of the table, inching closer as if proximity alone could help. Her lips parted slightly, but no sound came, just the weight of her silent worry pressing against the room.

Viktor exhaled shakily, swallowing down the lingering ache in his throat. When he finally looked up, his gaze caught the flicker of movement, the butterfly’s final pass before it slipped back through the open window, vanishing.

He steadied himself, drawing in a slow, careful breath. He caught her gaze, offering a small, reassuring smile, even as his fingers curled against the table’s edge.

“Just a small flaw in the system,” he said lightly, as if that made it less real.

She didn’t look convinced.

But she stayed.

And for now, that was enough.

Chapter Text

The office was suffocating. Papers lay scattered across Jayce’s desk, some crumpled, others hastily marked with notes that led nowhere. The enforcers had moved on. The council had ruled suicide. And Jayce ? He was drowning in the quiet.

A sharp knock at the door broke the silence. He straightened, forcing down the frustration boiling under his skin.

“Come in.”

The door opened smoothly, revealing Silco.

Jayce had never met him in person, but his reputation preceded him. The shadow behind Zaun Investigation. A man who dealt in secrets, a name whispered in the underbelly of both cities. Ruthless. Intelligent. Unpredictable.

And yet, here he was, standing in Jayce’s office like he belonged there.

“Councilor Talis,” Silco greeted, stepping inside with measured ease. His mismatched eyes flickered across the room, taking in the scattered reports, the untouched whiskey on the desk. “You seem troubled.”

Jayce let out a bitter laugh. “No shit.”

Silco paused for a fraction of a second at Jayce’s sharp langage His visible brow lifted, just slightly, as if the words had caught him off guard. Then, something shifted. The faintest curl of amusement tugged at his lips, a smirk hidden in the lines of his face.

Ah, the young generation. So brash. So direct. Lacking the careful, measured diplomacy their positions should have taught them. He had dealt with councilors, politicians, businessmen, all of them trained to wrap their words in silk, to wield power through implications rather than blunt force.

Jayce, however, was transparent. Frustrated. Angry. Raw. And, in some ways, refreshing.

Silco exhaled softly, shaking his head, more amused than irritated. “Such language,” he mused, voice carrying a lilt of mock disapproval. “I expected more refinement from Piltover’s golden boy.”

Jayce shot him a glare, but Silco’s smirk only deepened. Let the boy fume. He’d learn soon enough, passion only got you so far. The real game was played in the shadows, where words cut sharper than blades.

Silco moved closer, his presence unsettlingly calm. “A tragedy, what happened to Viktor. I understand you were the one to find him.”

Jayce’s stomach twisted. The memory clawed at the edges of his mind, the stifling silence, his best friend, the love of his life slumped over, gone.

He swallowed hard. “I called you because I want the truth,” he said, voice tight. “Not whatever bullshit the enforcers came up with.”

Silco hummed, as if considering the words. “And what truth is that, exactly ?”

Jayce exhaled sharply. “That Viktor didn’t kill himself.” He met Silco’s gaze head-on. “He was working on something, something big. And now he’s dead, and his research is missing.” His hands curled into fists. “That’s not a coincidence.”

Silco studied him in silence. “You were right to call me.”

Jayce blinked, taken aback by the ease of the admission.

Silco continued, voice even. “Zaun Investigation doesn’t deal in convenient stories. We deal in facts. And if there’s truth to uncover, we will find it.” His expression darkened slightly. “No matter who it implicates.”

Jayce’s stomach twisted at the implication. “So you’ll take the case ?”

Silco inclined his head. “I’ll assign my best detective.”

Jayce nodded. “Good.” He reached for the whiskey glass on his desk, needing something to ground him, but froze at Silco’s next words.

“She also happens to be my daughter.”

Jayce blinked. “Excuse me ?”

Silco smirked slightly, amused by his reaction. “Jinx. She’ll handle the investigation personally.”

Jayce frowned. “I’ve heard the name. She’s—” He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. Zaun’s wild card. A detective with a reputation for being unpredictable, reckless. Brilliant. Unstable.

Silco’s expression sharpened, as if daring him to finish that thought.

Jayce sighed, rubbing his temples. “Fine. As long as she gets results.”

“She will.” Silco’s confidence was unwavering.

A tense silence stretched between them. Then, Silco’s gaze flickered toward the desk, his voice turning almost casual.

“Tell me, Councilor… Did Viktor ever mention my name ?”

Jayce’s pulse stuttered.

Because he had. Not often. Not in detail. But there had been that moment, months ago, when Viktor had hesitated before mentioning an offer. Something that had left him restless, his mind turning over possibilities faster than Jayce could keep up.

Jayce hadn’t pressed him. Hadn’t asked.

And now it was too late.

Silco smirked, like he could see the realization settling in Jayce’s mind. “I imagine you have a great deal of questions,” he said, turning slightly, as if already preparing to leave. “But so little time to ask them.”

Jayce stepped forward. “What the hell does that mean ?”

Silco glanced back, expression dark with something almost amused.

“It means, Councilor, that you’re running out of people willing to answer them.”

And just like that, he was gone.

Jayce stood frozen, heart pounding, the room colder than it had been moments before.

Because Silco was right. And that terrified him.

Jinx dropped into the chair behind her desk, kicking her boots up onto the cluttered surface as she watched the little girl sitting across from her.  The office around them was a neutral space, stark and functional, in the image of Zaun Investigation. 

It was barely touched except for a dusty stack of files, an abandoned mug of cold coffee, and a stash of snacks tucked in one corner of the room. A large filing cabinet leaned against the wall, its drawers half-open, spilling papers and old case files. The walls surprisingly  remained blank, devoid of anything personal or bright, save for a small, out-of-place graffiti tag on the corner of the desk.

 It was a space that spoke of neglect, but also of someone who didn’t quite care to make it their own. However, there was a reserve of snacks, a must have. And that’s why Jinx's first idea when she came across an unknown child was to bring her here, in a private space but public enough not to be worrying. The kid, small, wide-eyed, and clearly overwhelmed, stared at her like she’d just seen a ghost. 

Jinx smirked. Yeah, she got that a lot. 

“So,” she said, lazily reaching into the bottom drawer of her desk and pulling out a wrinkled bag of chips. “You got a name ?”

The girl blinked. Said nothing.

Jinx tilted her head, ripping the bag open with her teeth before offering it across the desk. The kid hesitated, but the way her eyes lingered on the snack was telling.

Jinx grinned. 

“Alright, deal time. You tell me some stuff, I keep feeding you. Sound good ?”

Still nothing. But the kid reached out, slowly, taking a single chip between her fingers. She popped it in her mouth, chewed thoughtfully… then made a face. A mix of confusion and mild disappointment, like she’d expected something better.

Jinx snorted. “Not a fan, huh ? Hang on.”

She shoved the drawer open again, rummaging past lollipops, chocolate bars, some questionable candy bars she was pretty sure were expired, until she found it. The golden ticket.

She pulled out a bag of gummy Hexaribo. Wiggled it at the kid like an irresistible prize.

The girl’s eyes lit up.

Jinx smirked, tossing a notepad and pen onto the desk between them. “You write, I bribe.” She ripped open the gummies, letting the sweet scent fill the air. “And since I literally saved your life, I’d say you owe me at least a couple words, yeah ?”

The kid hesitated again, glancing between the notepad and Jinx, then down at the swirling blue strands of hair spilling over Jinx’s shoulder.

Jinx caught the look. Her smirk softened just a little.

Oh. The kid wasn’t just stunned because she got saved. She was intrigued, even fascinated by her. It was new. Usually she wasn't the most popular among children, let alone adults, because of her personality and reputation. It was a rather pleasant feeling to be looked at with such admiration and fascination. 

The kid hesitated, her small fingers curling around the pen like it was a foreign object. For a second, Jinx thought she might not write anything at all.

Then, slowly, the pen scratched across the page. One word.

Isha.

Jinx leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm as she read it. “Isha, huh ? Cute.” She flicked her gaze back up to the girl, watching for a reaction. Isha only fidgeted, twisting the sleeve of her worn-out jacket.

Jinx pushed the gummy bag closer. Payment received.

Isha plucked one from the bag, chewing slowly, her eyes darting between the notepad and Jinx, like she was expecting more questions. She was right.

“So, Isha,” Jinx started, tapping a finger against her knee, “mind telling me what you were doing out there ? And, uh… what was up with those guys chasing you ?”

Isha’s grip on the pen tightened. She shook her head.

Jinx’s smirk didn’t drop, but she felt the shift. Ah. So that’s how it’s gonna be.

“Alright. No problem,” she said easily, stretching her arms behind her head. “Maybe something else, then. You know, a certain someone might wanna know you’re safe.” She nodded toward the notepad. “Who should I tell ?”

Isha didn’t write anything. Her face didn’t change, but Jinx saw the way her lips pressed tighter together, the way her fingers clenched the pen just a bit harder.

Jinx sighed, rocking back in her chair. Great. The kid was a locked box.

Fine. New approach.

She lazily reached for the notepad, flipping to a new page. “Alright, no third-degree for now. But, uh…” She tapped the pen against the blank sheet. “Where do you live, kid ?”

Isha finally looked up at her, cautious.

Jinx shrugged. “Just need to know where to dump ya. Unless you wanna camp out in my super cool, totally functional office.” She gestured to the room, messy, barely used, more snack storage closet than workspace.

Isha’s lips twitched. Almost a smile. Almost.

Then, after a pause, she took the pen and scribbled something down.

Jinx tilted her head, reading the words. A street name. Not far from here. She hadn’t expected to care. She didn’t do the whole soft thing, not really. But sitting across from the little girl in her rarely-used office, watching her look at her with those eyes, something unfamiliar curled in her chest.

She leaned back, tossing the pen onto the desk. “Huh. Guess that’s my cue to walk you home.”

Isha’s eyes widened, startled.

Jinx clicked her tongue, standing up and stretching. “What ? Don’t gimme that look, I’m not doing this cause I wanna or anything.” She grabbed her jacket, rolling her shoulders. “Just, you know, kinda seems like assholes are a problem tonight. Hate to break it to ya, but you don’t exactly look like the self-defense type.”

Isha blinked at her.

Ah, maybe that was her language. She wasn't used to speaking kid-friendly. Jinx glanced away, stuffing her hands in her pockets. Ugh, this was already too nice.

“C’mon, kid,” she muttered, heading for the door. “Let’s go.”

Isha practically floated as she followed Jinx out of the office, her little legs hurrying to keep up.  Her wide, starry eyes never left Jinx. Not once.

She clutched the bag of gummies like a priceless treasure, peeking up at the woman beside her, then back down at her own steps, then back up again, as if to make sure Jinx was real.

Jinx noticed.

She smirked, side-eyeing the kid. “You always look at people like that, or am I just special ?”

Isha immediately looked away, cheeks puffing out.

Jinx chuckled, amused. “Thought so.”

They kept walking, Jinx keeping her hands in her pockets, acting like she wasn’t paying attention, but she was. Isha was practically glued to her side, trailing after her like a shadow, like some tiny, awestruck puppy.

At one point, Isha hurried a few steps ahead, turning to walk backward so she could stare at Jinx’s hair. The way it glowed under Zaun’s neon lights.

Jinx quirked a brow. “What ? Never seen blue hair before ?”

Isha’s lips pressed together like she wanted to say something, but of course, no words came. Instead, she raised her hand, hesitated, then pointed at Jinx’s braid.

Jinx blinked. Then huffed. “What, this ?” She tugged at the end of it. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Sick, right ?”

Isha nodded, eyes shining.

Isha’s eyes were wide, full of something Jinx recognized. Admiration, maybe even awe. It made her feel weirdly warm, a little too seen. She was used to people looking at her, but not like this. Not with that kind of quiet devotion, like she was someone worth trusting. It was almost… disarming. She felt weaker under that gaze than she ever did in a fight.

Jinx let out a short laugh. “Man, you’re easy to impress.”

Isha beamed.

She had completely forgotten about the danger, about the men that had chased her. Right now, nothing else existed but Jinx.

Meanwhile, Ekko was frustrated.

He shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets, scanning the darkened alleyways. His boots hit the damp pavement with sharp, determined steps.

Where the hell was this kid ?

Heimerdinger’s words still echoed in his mind. A small girl. Non-verbal. Missing. Ekko wasn’t sure why the professor was so sure she was in Zaun, but something about it had gnawed at him. He couldn’t let it go. How could he when a child had come to undoubtedly ask for his help and had disappeared. 

Now here he was, pacing the streets, looking for a ghost.

“C’mon, kid,” he muttered under his breath. “Where are you ?”

He glanced around again, scanning faces, peering down alleyways, searching for any clue—

And then, just for a second, he thought he saw something.

A flicker of blue, ahead in the distance.

His heart stopped.

No. No way. That couldn’t be—

But then the figure moved, stepping under a streetlamp, and—

Jinx.

Ekko froze.

And she wasn’t alone.

A little girl walked beside her, trailing after her like a lost duckling. She stared up at Jinx, utterly mesmerized.

Ekko barely breathed.

Because he knew that look.

He knew that look too well.

He hesitated for only a second before moving.

His boots scuffed against the pavement as he closed the distance, his heart pounding louder with every step. Jinx, of all people, had the girl ? The world had a funny way of making fun of him. 

The moment Jinx caught sight of him, her relaxed posture stiffened. She turned slightly, shoulders squaring.

Ekko shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets, stopping just a few steps away. “Jinx.”

She clicked her tongue, exhaling through her nose. “Firelight.”

Ekko’s eyes flicked down to the little girl. Small, quiet, hiding behind Jinx, gripping the hem of her coat. Big, uncertain eyes peeked out at him before darting back down, her grip tightening.

Ekko felt something twist in his chest.

She was scared of him. Jinx noticed too. She glanced down at the kid, then back up at him, smirking just slightly. “Look at that. Guess between the two of us, you’re the scary one.”

Ekko watched as the little girl pressed herself against Jinx’s side, gripping the hem of her coat like a lifeline. She was clearly wary of him, big eyes flicking up just long enough to take him in before darting away.

That was new. Kids didn’t usually look at him like that.

He exhaled, lowering himself into a crouch to meet her at eye level. “Hey, kid” he said, keeping his voice gentle. “I think you came to see me.”

The girl tensed but didn’t bolt.

Ekko tilted his head, searching her face. “Firelights Detective Agency, right ? That’s where you went ?”

Still no answer. She shifted on her feet, fingers curling tighter around Jinx’s coat.

Jinx, for her part, was watching the exchange with open amusement, arms crossed, weight shifted onto one hip. “Hate to break it to you, Firelight, but looks like she prefers me.”

Ekko shot her a look but didn’t take the bait. His focus remained on the girl. “It’s okay,” he said, softer now. “You don’t have to be scared of me.”

She blinked at him, hesitant. Her hesitation was strange for someone who had come to see her on her own. 

Jinx made a small, considering noise before reaching into her pocket. With a rustle, she pulled out a small snack, a wrapped candy from her stash, and held it out in front of the girl’s face. “I dunno, kid. You sure you wanna go with him ?” She wiggled the candy between her fingers. “I’ve got bribes.”

The girl’s lips parted slightly in consideration. She really looked at her with sparkling eyes. 

Ekko sighed “Really ?”

Jinx grinned. “What ? You work with kids, right ? Shouldn’t you know how this goes ?”

Ekko shook his head, but he couldn’t deny the way his chest tightened. This girl had been looking for him. He was sure of it. But now ? Now, she was glued to Jinx like she was the safest thing in the world.

And for some reason, that bothered him more than he wanted to admit.

Not because he wanted Isha to trust him instead. Not just that. It was because watching Jinx like this, calm, teasing, almost warm, was throwing him off balance. He knew her as the reckless, gun-toting menace who got under his skin, the aggressive and scared girl from the morgue, but here, she was something else. And he was the one stuck trying to make sense of it.

He should have been focusing on Isha. He should have been thinking about what she was signing, about why she had come to the FDA in the first place. Instead, his eyes kept drifting.

Her coat was slightly oversized, making her seem smaller than he knew she was, but underneath—damn. The way she crossed her arms beneath her chest, the way her hip jutted just enough, it was impossible not to notice. And those tattoos, curling over her stomach, barely visible under her crop top, just teasing at what lay beyond.  

But it wasn’t just that. It was the way her lips pursed in mock consideration, the way she shifted her weight, one hip jutting just enough to throw off his focus entirely.

His breath hitched.

How far did her tattoos really go ? He had dreamt about those. About his hands on her waist, tracing the ink, about her breath coming short as he pressed closer. Would she react the same ?

Ekko swallowed hard, forcing himself back to reality. No. Not now. Not ever. That was a dream. A stupid, heat-fueled dream that meant nothing.

Jinx raised an eyebrow at him, still twirling a candy between her fingers, clearly waiting for a response.

“She likes me better,” she declared, her grin widening, completely unaware of the war in his head.

Ekko exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. Focus. Focus on the kid.

Anything but the way Jinx was making his thoughts spiral into dangerous places.  He knew he should be focusing on Isha. He knew that. But it was impossible when Jinx was standing there, looking like that.

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. She’s just overwhelmed. I work with kids.”

Jinx smirked. “Yeah ? Then why is she hiding behind me ?”

Ekko exhaled sharply through his nose. “Because you bribed her.”

“Smart girl,” Jinx said, ruffling the kid’s hair. “Knows how to pick the winning team.”

Ekko narrowed his eyes. “Winning team ? Since when are we competing ?”

Jinx grinned. “Since you made it a competition.”

He opened his mouth, then shut it, jaw tightening. Damn her. Damn that teasing lilt in her voice that made his stomach twist. She was enjoying this too much. And worse—he was too. He was relieved to see her acting normally after everything that had happened.

But he wasn’t about to lose.

“Hey, kid,” he said, leaning in slightly, lowering his voice like he was telling her a secret. “You know, I’m really good at fixing things. That means if you ever need anything” he gave Jinx a pointed look, “someone who doesn’t just throw snacks at their problems, I got you.”

The girl hesitated.

Jinx gasped, pressing a hand to her chest in mock offense. “Oh, so I’m the bad guy now ? For feeding a poor, lost child ?”

Ekko smirked. “Bribing. There’s a difference.”

Jinx clicked her tongue. “You just don’t have my charm.”

Ekko huffed. “You mean your questionable influence ?”

Jinx pouted dramatically. And damn it, Ekko should not have looked at her mouth when she did that.

Heat crept up his neck. His dream flashed in his head like a sick joke. Her lips, her breathless voice, the way she—nope. No. Absolutely not.

“Y’know what ?” he said, suddenly straightening up, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Maybe I should go.”

Jinx blinked, caught off guard by his shift in tone. “Oh ? Running away already ?”

He looked at her, really looked at her, and for just a second, it wasn’t a fight anymore. It was just them.

Her pink lips, her blue hair tousled from the air, the way she was still holding onto that candy like it was some kind of grand prize.

His pulse skipped.

Jinx’s teasing smirk faltered for just a second before she covered it up, shifting her weight.

The little girl, meanwhile, just stared between them, completely oblivious.

Ekko sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. What the hell was he doing ?

Ekko shouldn’t have looked.

Shouldn’t have let his eyes drop to her lips when she pouted at him like that, glossy and just slightly parted in mock offense. Shouldn’t have lingered on the way the neon lights from the street flickered against her skin, catching the soft curve of her cheek, the faintest smudge of something dark beneath her lower lip, probably from her snack stash. It was unfair how she always managed to look effortlessly good, even after an exhausting day.

And Jinx noticed.

Her teasing smirk twitched just slightly, and for the briefest second, her breath hitched. It was so subtle Ekko almost missed it, but then she shifted, her fingers tightening around the candy she’d been twirling between them.

Her shoulders stiffened.

“Like, classic Ekko move. Can’t handle the heat, so you–-” She blurted, a little too fast, a little too defensive. 

She stopped abruptly, clicking her tongue before she could say something really stupid.

Ekko raised an eyebrow, suspicious. What was that ?

The little girl tugged on Jinx’s coat, staring up at her with wide, curious eyes, as if sensing the shift in mood but not quite understanding it.

Jinx exhaled and crouched slightly, ruffling the kid’s hair again like a nervous reflex. “Anyway. You were saying something about me having questionable influence ?”

Ekko folded his arms, shaking his head. “No, you got caught up on the ‘running away’ part, for some reason.”

Jinx scowled, rolling her eyes. “Oh, please. Don’t flatter yourself.”

Ekko scoffed. “You’re the one making it a thing.”

“It’s not a thing.”

“Sure sounds like a thing.”

Jinx clicked her tongue again, louder this time, clearly annoyed that she’d let herself trip over whatever that moment was. “You’re so annoying.”

Ekko grinned. “Right back at ya.”

The little girl’s eyes flicked between them, brows furrowing slightly, like she was trying to figure out if they were actually fighting or just weird. She made a mental note. They were definitely weird.

Ekko knelt again, lowering himself to her level, his voice softer now. “Hey,” he said, giving her a reassuring look. “I think you came to the Firelights’ place to talk to me, didn’t you ?”

The girl hesitated but nodded just slightly.

Jinx narrowed her eyes. “Wait, wait, wait. She came to you ?” She hadn't paid attention to what he'd said the first time, a little too lost in her thoughts and reluctant to see him again so soon. She really hadn't wanted to run into him. 

Ekko shrugged. “That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

Jinx pouted again. More of a thoughtful frown though this time, her lips pursing as she stared at the kid. “Then why the hell are you hiding behind me, huh ?”

The girl blinked up at her, then gave the smallest, shyest smile.

Jinx blinked. “Oh. You really like me, huh ?” She felt pride flooding through her. 

Ekko groaned. “Oh, come on—”

Jinx smirked, puffing her chest up proudly. “Told you. Winning team.”

Ekko sighed, but despite himself, he couldn’t stop the small, amused smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Jinx caught that too, and for the first time since the morgue, she didn’t feel like she was completely losing control of their dynamic. Maybe she did not jinx it after all. Whatever that was. 

Isha tugged lightly on Jinx’s coat before stepping forward, small hands hesitantly forming shapes in the air.

Ekko’s eyes flicked to her hands, watching the careful movements, the way her fingers traced familiar signs. He wasn’t fluent, but he knew enough to piece things together, years of working with the kids at the orphanage in his free time had taught him that much.

Man. Thin. Cane.

Ekko’s brows furrowed. He tilted his head, mouth opening slightly as he tried to string it together.

Isha’s small fingers moved again.

Kind. Cough.

Ekko inhaled sharply, realization clicking into place. His gaze darkened. “You’re talking about…”

Viktor. The kid had clung to Jinx like she was some kind of hero, but she hadn’t been so quick to warm up to him. It wasn’t surprising. Ekko knew how to handle kids, but trust wasn’t instant. What bothered him more was the way she’d run off from the FDA in the first place.

She was a quiet one, but she knew things. That much was clear.

Jinx, who had been watching silently, arms crossed, finally pushed off the wall. “Wait. Wait. What is she saying ?”

Ekko didn’t answer immediately, his jaw tightening as he glanced back down at Isha. “Did you—”

“Isha !”

The sharp voice cut through the moment like a knife.

A woman rushed toward them, her dark eyes filled with worry. She was a bit older than them, with deep lines of exhaustion carved into her face, a long coat hanging loosely around her frame. She skidded to a stop near them, relief washing over her features as she reached for Isha.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you, sweetheart.” She knelt and cupped the little girl’s face, checking her over for any signs of harm before pulling her into a tight embrace.

Ekko straightened. “Miss Enora ?”

The woman blinked, finally noticing him. “Ekko ?” She let out a breath of surprise, standing again. “Of course. I should’ve known you’d be around.” She offered him a tired smile. “I swear, every time I lose one of these little troublemakers, you’re always somewhere nearby to bring them back.”

For the day it was clear he wouldn’t learn more information. Enora didn’t seem like she knew Isha's link to Viktor, nor what she was trying to do. Viktor. Ekko had known of him, of course, everyone in Zaun did. The man was a legend in the undercity, a rare mind who had climbed the impossible ladder to Piltover’s heights. But kids didn’t talk about Viktor. Hell, most adults didn’t talk about Viktor beyond his work. So how the hell had Isha known him ? And why did it feel like whatever she knew was something people weren’t supposed to know ?

Ekko frowned, already frustrated by the fact that these days, as soon as he got close to a piece of information, it slipped through his fingers. One way or another, he was going to find out.

Jinx scoffed quietly under her breath, shifting her weight onto one hip. Oh, great. Another person who saw Ekko as some kind of saint while she was…what ? Invisible ?

Enora exhaled, rubbing her temples. “I nearly had a heart attack when I realized she was gone. But at least she was with someone I could trust.”

Jinx’s eye twitched.

Ekko, noticing the shift in Jinx’s expression, cleared his throat. “Uh yeah, well, I wasn’t the only one—”

Enora wasn’t listening. She was already reaching for Isha’s hand, her focus entirely on the little girl. “Come on, let’s get you home before I actually die of stress.”

Jinx’s arms tightened across her chest, fingers drumming against her sleeve as Enora turned away without even acknowledging her.

Ekko winced, knowing exactly where this was going.

Jinx finally spoke, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, yeah, sure. Just completely ignore the person who actually saved her.”

Enora paused, glancing back briefly. She blinked at Jinx, as if only just realizing she was there. “…Oh.”

Jinx raised an eyebrow expectantly.

Enora gave her a curt nod. “Well. Thank you.” She looked cautious after seeing Jinx, as if she recognized her and was a little worried. Then she turned back to Isha, ushering her along.

Jinx looked her up and down. It looked like she was about to explode. Ekko sighed. He expected the worst.

Just as Enora gently guided Isha away, the little girl hesitated, glancing back. Her wide eyes flicked between Ekko and Jinx, but it was Jinx she ran toward.

Jinx stiffened as small arms wrapped around her waist, pressing into her coat. For a second, she didn’t react, unsure what to do with the unexpected warmth clinging to her.

Slowly, hesitantly, she let her arms fall, loosely returning the hug.

Isha pulled back just enough to look up at her, hands moving carefully between them. The gestures weren’t ones Jinx fully understood, but she caught enough. Come see me.

Jinx’s breath hitched slightly. Me ?

Her throat felt oddly tight. She covered it up with a smirk, tilting her head. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll think about it, kid.”

Isha smiled, satisfied, before letting go and retreating back to Enora.

Jinx watched her go, still feeling the warmth of the hug lingering against her coat.

Ekko, beside her, crossed his arms with a teasing smirk. “Aww. She likes you.”

There was a flicker of pride in her gut when she realized Isha clung to her, not Ekko, not the orphanage lady, but her. It was dumb, Jinx knew it was dumb , but she liked being someone’s favorite, even if it was just a kid she’d met hours ago.

She smiled discreetly, tearing her gaze away. “Shut up.”

But even as she rolled her eyes, her fingers brushed absentmindedly over the place where Isha had held onto her.

As Isha disappeared into the crowd with Enora, Ekko remained quiet, watching Jinx. He had expected some kind of quip, maybe a cocky remark about how even kids adored her. Instead, she stood there, her fingers idly brushing the spot where Isha had hugged her, a strange look on her face.

He hesitated, unsure if he should say anything about it, but when she finally turned to leave, he took a step forward.

“Jinx—”

She stopped, her shoulders tensing slightly before she turned halfway, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. “What ?”

Ekko ran a hand over the back of his neck. He wasn’t sure how to bring it up, but he had to. “Back at the morgue…”

Jinx’s face immediately shifted. Not quite a scowl, but guarded. Defensive. “What about it ?”

Ekko exhaled through his nose. “Look, I just…I shouldn’t have” He struggled for the words. He wanted to apologize, but it wasn’t just about that. The morgue had been a mess. Between what they saw, what they almost saw.

Jinx’s gaze flickered, then she scoffed, crossing her arms. “What, you feel bad or something ?” Her tone was sharp, dismissive. “You didn’t make me do anything, Firelight.”

Ekko frowned. “I know that. But—”

“Then drop it.” She turned fully toward him now, arms tightening. “Whatever weird guilt trip you’re on ? Not my problem.”

Ekko’s jaw tensed. This wasn’t how he wanted this to go. “Jinx” Ekko exhaled, shaking his head slightly before meeting her eyes. "I'm sorry."

Jinx blinked, caught off guard. Of all the things she expected him to say, that wasn’t one of them. She shifted on her feet, crossing her arms a little tighter. "You what ?"

Ekko scratched the back of his head, looking slightly uncomfortable. "Back at the morgue. I shouldn’t have pushed you like that. It wasn’t fair."

Jinx stared at him, her lips parting as if she wanted to say something, something sharp, something dismissive. But instead, she swallowed and lowered her gaze. Her voice dropped, barely above a whisper. "It should be me apologizing…"

Ekko heard her, but he didn’t acknowledge it. He just stood there, watching her, like he was giving her an out. Letting her keep her pride.

Jinx let out a huff and straightened up, shaking her head as if shaking off the moment. “Forget about it, Firelight.”

Ekko hadn’t realized how much he’d been bracing himself for this moment. How tense his shoulders had been since the morgue, since that damn dream, since everything between them got complicated. But when Jinx looked at him, wide-eyed for just a second after his apology, and then rolled her eyes like she always did, something inside him unclenched.

Ekko smirked. "Whatever you say Powder."

Jinx froze mid-step, then turned sharply, glaring at him. "What did you just call me ?"

She was still Jinx. Still stubborn, still sharp-tongued, still quick to brush things off. The way she stiffened was subtle, but he caught it. Ekko grinned, rocking on his heels. "Heard Vi call you that once. Thought it was cute."

"Don’t call me that."

"Sure thing, Powder."

"Ekko, I swear to—"

But he was already laughing, taking a few steps back as she clenched her fists. Despite herself, despite the embarrassment, the corner of her lips twitched. Just a little. The way she stiffened was subtle, but he caught it. She didn’t whirl around or snap at him, but for a second, he thought she might. 

She clicked her tongue, turning on her heel. "You’re insufferable."

"That’s what they all say."

Ekko let out a breath.

Things were normal again. Well, as normal as they could be with Jinx. He hadn’t even realized how much he’d missed that until now.

Still, the name stuck in his mind. Powder.

Jinx had never reacted to it like that. There was something personal in the way her shoulders tensed, something about the way she hadn’t shot back at him for using it, despite clearly not being a fan of being called that.

One day, he’d ask her. But not today. Right now, he had other things to worry about.

Jinx didn’t dignify that with a response, just flipped him off as she walked away.

She didn’t know what she was expecting when Ekko stopped her. Maybe some smug remark, maybe another stupid argument. What she wasn’t expecting was an apology.

It caught her off guard, the way his voice dipped lower, more serious. He looked at her, not with pity, not with anger, just… regret. And for a second, her heart stuttered.

She should be the one apologizing.

The words barely left her lips, just a whisper, and he acted like he didn’t hear them. Just like that, the tension cracked, and the familiar smirk was back.

Jinx’s stomach flipped.

It was stupid. So stupid that a dumb name she hated could make her feel lighter, like everything was normal again, like she was a kid trading jabs over scrap parts. Instead, they were two detectives caught up in something bigger than themselves.

She almost let herself relax.

But then her sister’s voice rang in her head.

He’s got his own agenda.

Jinx wasn’t sure what to believe. Ekko had always been a mystery, and it was sure she didn't actually know much about him.. When had he learned sign language ? Since when did he work at an orphanage ? Detective and in his free time a volunteer ? Did she know how he'd ended up on the case ? She wasn't even sure. She thought she knew him, or at least a thing or two, but the truth was, she didn’t know shit. 

And maybe it was time to change that.

Maybe it was time to dig into him.

But then there was also Isha. The way she hesitated, the way she danced around Jinx’s questions about Viktor. She was holding something back. Jinx could tell. She could push, could demand answers, but looking at Isha’s small hands, the way she fidgeted, Jinx stopped herself.

She didn’t want to scare her.

So she played it cool, let the girl take her time, feeding her snacks in exchange for bits and pieces of information. It wasn’t much, but Jinx wasn’t in a rush. She’d figure this out.

For now, she just let Isha look at her like she was someone worth holding onto.

The walk home was quiet, just the way she liked it. The dim glow of streetlights flickered above, casting long shadows as she weaved through Zaun’s alleyways. Her mind was still reeling, flipping between Isha’s starstruck gaze, Ekko’s lingering eyes, and the weight of his apology. She hadn’t expected him to be the one to say sorry first. And she sure as hell hadn’t expected it to make her feel… lighter.

Not that it mattered.

Jinx reached her apartment, unlocking the door with a flick of her wrist. The place was still as  messy as ever but it was home. She directly went to her whiteboard, kicking off her boots and padded over, sucking on the inside of her cheek as she stared at the tangled web of names and connections. It was time to add new characters. 

Jinx wrote a new name. Isha. A small question mark next to it. The kid knew something, that much was obvious. But why would a little girl know anything about Viktor in the first place ? And why did she run ?

Maybe it was better to go back to the basics.

Viktor, dead in his lab. 

Jayce, his partner, the one who found him. She had questioned him. No particularly interesting information. 

However, she had been too focused on other angles to really think about the fact that Jayce wasn’t just Viktor’s research partner. He was a councilor. A man with access to everything.

Her fingers traced the board absently, tapping against Jayce’s name.

He had the power to move things, slow things down. But how much did he really know ?

Her eyes slid to Heimerdinger. Former President of the Council. Viktor’s mentor. Respected, well-connected. However, he was a relic of the past, but that didn’t mean he was powerless. If someone wanted the investigation stalled, he had the power to do it quietly. 

Then Mel Medarda. The one ruling over the Council after Heimerdinger “retirement”. Engaged to Jayce, sharp as a knife. She wouldn’t waste time with threats, she’d go for leverage. And she had plenty of it. She also appeared with no reason to harm Viktor, as she supported him and his fiancé in their scientific research.

So who the hell was pulling the strings ?

The buzz of her phone cut through the silence.

She glanced at the screen. No name. No number. Just a single message.

Stop digging.

Her grip on the phone tightened. The weight of the words sank in slow, thick like tar. She glanced back at the board, scanning the names again. The people who could have sent this. The ones with the power to kill an investigation before it even started.

Jayce. Heimerdinger. Mel. Someone else ?

A slow smirk tugged at her lips, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

She set the phone down, The air in the room felt heavier now, like something unseen had settled into the shadows, watching, waiting. 

So someone was watching. 

Good.

That just meant she was getting close.

If they thought a little warning was enough to scare her off, they didn’t know a damn thing about her.

Like hell she was stopping now.

Chapter Text

The tea was still warm when Viktor lifted the cup to his lips, though the bitterness had begun to settle at the bottom.

He let it linger on his tongue, savoring the quiet burn as he swallowed. It was a strange comfort, this routine, pausing between frantic scribbles and half-muttered calculations, sipping something that, for a fleeting moment, soothed the ache in his chest.

Or perhaps it only masked it.

He exhaled slowly, the sound nearly swallowed by the hum of his laboratory. The air was thick with the scent of metal, old parchment, and faintly burnt ozone, the lingering traces of failed experiments and long nights spent chasing something just beyond his reach. His body ached. More than usual.

The cough that rattled his chest had been coming in sharper bursts lately, each one a brutal reminder of his own fragility. His hands, once steady, trembled now as he set the cup down. Not enough to ruin his work, not yet, but the signs were there. The slow, inevitable decay. He had always known his time was borrowed. And yet, some foolish part of him still clung to the hope that he could outthink it.

His fingers brushed against the blueprints scattered across his desk. Designs, equations, dreams etched in ink. The answer had to be here, somewhere, buried beneath the layers of logic and desperation. If he could replace the failing pieces of himself, if he could cast off this fragile husk and become something more—

He could run.

Breathe without pain.

He could stand beside Jayce as an equal, not a burden.

A bitter chuckle escaped him.

Even now, his mind circled back to Jayce.

Always Jayce.

The golden boy of Piltover, bright and untouchable, stepping into the light without hesitation. A man who spoke of progress like a promise and carried the future in his hands. And Viktor…Viktor, who had always followed, always reached for that same brilliance but found himself swallowed by the shadows instead. That was how it had always been. Jayce’s partner, but never his choice.

Never his first choice.

His gaze drifted to the dim lamp in the corner of the lab, its glow casting long, jagged shadows across the walls. How fitting. Even now, even in stolen moments, he remained in the dark.

Jayce would never leave Mel.

Viktor had always known that. Had accepted it, even.

And yet, when Jayce kissed him, when his hands lingered, when his breath hitched just so, Viktor had allowed himself to believe, just for a moment, that maybe he wasn’t just an afterthought.

But in the end, he always was.

His hand tightened around the cup, but he forced himself to loosen his grip. It doesn’t matter.

His work mattered. His research. His survival.

Jayce would move forward, as he always did. Mel would shape him into something greater, something worthy of Piltover’s admiration.

And Viktor, the dark sheep, Zaun’s child, would keep chasing a future where he wasn’t bound to a body that betrayed him. A future where he could stand without wavering. Where he didn’t have to hide.

He sighed, rubbing his temple, the weight of exhaustion pressing heavy against his skull. His eyes flicked to the cup in his hand, the tea inside dark and undisturbed. A gift. Offered to him the day before, with a quiet insistence that he take care of himself. The voice that had given it to him echoed faintly in his memory, but he did not linger on the source.

He took another sip.

The warmth spread through him, dulling the edges of his thoughts.

And for just a moment, Viktor allowed himself the smallest indulgence, the thought of a world where he could have been free. Where he could have been chosen.

The cough came hard this time. A ragged, shuddering thing that tore through his chest like splintering glass. The cough tore through him like something alive, something with claws. His ribs ached with every heave, his throat raw from the effort. He braced himself against the desk, fingers digging into the wood as he gasped for air, his body trembling with the weight of it all. His fingers clutched at the edge of his desk, knuckles white, body trembling as the fit wracked him. He gasped for breath, but his lungs would not listen, constricting, burning, betraying him.

It felt like drowning.

The coughs did not stop. They deepened, sharpened, rattling him down to the marrow. The taste of iron filled his mouth, thick and bitter. His vision blurred at the edges, narrowing to the papers before him, ink smudged beneath his shaking hands.

With effort, Viktor reached again for his tea. His fingers curled around the cup as he lifted it to his lips, forcing himself to drink. The warmth spread through his chest, easing the raw edges of his throat, dulling the pain just enough to let him think. He exhaled slowly.

His body was failing him, his end was approaching. It was a curious feeling, to sense his own death and falling apart yet being unable to do anything about it. Viktor knew his body was failing him, had known for years, but knowing did not soften the reality of it. He had spent years fighting against the inevitable, clawing for something just beyond his reach. He had believed at first, truly believed, that if he worked hard enough, if he built enough, he could outrun his fate.

But fate was not so easily bargained with.

For the first time, Viktor felt the weight of surrender settle over him, sinking into his bones. It was hard to keep hope when everything around him remained him his fate. He stared at the flickering light above, at the walls of his lab that had become more of a prison than a sanctuary. How long had he known this ending was coming ? It had been so long since his body had been gradually decaying that he couldn't remember when he'd realized that his fate was probably sealed, at least without any doubt if a miracle didn't save him.

He picked up his pen.

His hands still trembled, but he steadied them as best he could. This, this life he had led, the one bound by limitations, by weakness, by secrecy, had never truly been his. He had been an observer in his own existence, watching others grasp what he never could. Running. Laughing. Touching. He had been forced to love in the dark, to want in the dark, and now, as his body withered, so did those last, desperate flickers of longing. The truth settled over him, heavy as lead. Perhaps it had never been meant for him. Not Jayce, not the warmth of a shared life, not the simple joy of feeling whole.

His fingers curled around his pen. His hand still trembled, but he forced it to move, ink spilling onto the page as he wrote :

"There comes a point where one must acknowledge the limits of their efforts. I have tried, again and again, to push beyond them, but the weight of it all is inescapable. Some things are not meant to be changed, perhaps they were never meant to exist at all. I see that now."

The words flowed from him, heavy with the truth he had been denying. How long had he convinced himself otherwise ? That if he worked hard enough, built enough, proved enough, he could carve out a place in a world that had never shaped itself for him ?

"I have spent too long chasing what was never mine to hold, hoping for something that was always slipping through my fingers. It is time to put an end to this, before it takes more than it already has."

His breath was shallow now. He could feel the tightness in his chest, the weakness in his limbs. How much of himself had he given away, shredded into unspoken confessions, pressed into the margins of half-finished blueprints, buried beneath the weight of every moment spent waiting for a life that had never been his to live ? 

"I regret that it must be this way, but there is no other choice. I will not allow this to continue. It stops tonight."

It stops tonight. It was not death he was accepting. Not truly. It was the death of longing. Of the man he had been, of the one who had spent too long wishing.

His eyes lingered on the words for a long time, until the ink blurred, until his thoughts blurred. Then, slowly, his gaze shifted, drawn to the mess of pages spread across his desk. Blueprints. Designs long abandoned. Theories left to collect dust. His own plans. The ones that had once seemed impossible. The ones viewed as too dangerous.

His work. His theories. The projects he had abandoned in favor of stability, of reason. But stability was a fool’s luxury.

His fingers traced the edges of the designs, the intricate lines, the careful calculations. The answer had been here all along, waiting in the depths of his mind, waiting for him to see.

A new body.

A way to rebuild, to replace what was broken.

To survive.

A sharp, hollow laugh escaped him. He had been ready to surrender, to lay down his life before it was stolen from him entirely. But why ? Why should he accept this fate when the solution was within his grasp ?

After all, what was humanity to a dying man ?

Viktor reached for a clean sheet of paper, his eyes alight with something dangerous, something desperate. Perhaps he had spent too long chasing things that were never his to hold. But this, this was his.

His last project.

His final chance.

He would not stop.

Not until he had made himself something that could never be taken away. The means to rewrite the laws that had governed him since birth. A tremor passed through him. This time, not of sickness, but something else entirely.

If he could not have a life as a man, then he would build himself into something more.

Not when the real work had only just begun.

Viktor reached for a clean sheet of paper, the remnants of doubt dissolving into something sharper, determination.

Then, without warning, a thud.

A small, startled gasp.

Viktor jolted, the sound tearing him from his thoughts. His gaze snapped toward the far end of the lab, where a vent cover now lay slightly askew, its screws rattling from the impact. His brows furrowed.

And beside it, blinking up at him with wide, startled eyes, was Isha.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Viktor simply stared at the small girl now crouched near the floor, her delicate frame half-hidden in the dim light. She had the look of a stray cat caught mid-mischief, uncertain whether to flee or feign innocence.

Then, with a slow exhale, Viktor slumped back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Well," he muttered, eyes flicking toward the displaced vent, "that explains far too much."

Isha tilted her head, feigning innocence.

Viktor gestured vaguely toward the room. "How you always manage to appear without a sound. I was beginning to think you had mastered some higher form of stealth." He let out a dry chuckle before adding, almost as an afterthought, "Or that my security was more laughable than I already feared. I was beginning to think you had discovered teleportation. But no, just good old-fashioned ingenuity."

His tone was light, but the implication lingered. The vents.  He gave a weary shake of his head, though there was no real scolding in his tone, only mild exasperation.

An entry point he had never considered. An opening that could be exploited.

But Isha, seemingly oblivious to the weight of his thoughts, simply brightened. She quickly scrambled to her feet, dusting herself off before making her way toward him with a sense of quiet purpose.

Viktor watched as she approached, a small folded paper clutched in her hands.

Viktor took it, carefully unfolding the paper.

His breath stilled.

A butterfly. The same one they had seen together not long ago, its delicate wings spread in familiar patterns, sketched with careful, unhurried strokes.

For a moment, he simply stared.

Isha was watching him, waiting.

He glanced at her, then back at the drawing, lips twitching in a small, lopsided smirk. "Bribery, is it ?" He leaned back in his chair, tapping a finger against his chin in mock contemplation. "You sneak into my lab unannounced, disrupt my very important work, and then attempt to win me over with fine artistry ?"

Isha giggled, shaking her head.

Viktor sighed dramatically, as if deeply conflicted. "It is… quite effective," he admitted at last, carefully setting the drawing down atop his scattered notes. "But you are setting a dangerous precedent. What’s next ? A self-portrait ? An entire gallery ? I shudder to think."

She giggled again, covering her mouth with her hands.

Viktor exhaled, the smirk fading into something softer as he picked up his tea again.

For all the cold sterility of the lab, the low hum of machinery, and the weight of everything else pressing down on him, Isha’s presence carved out a moment of stillness.

One that he allowed himself to linger in.

Even if it wouldn't last.

The city stretched behind the glass, golden light spilling over Piltover’s skyline as Mel Medarda leaned against her desk, swirling an empty glass of wine in her hand. The movement was slow, thoughtful, calculated, like everything she did. She hadn’t spoken in a while, but Marcus knew better than to mistake her silence for inattention. She was watching him, waiting.

Finally, she hummed. “You know, Marcus… I find it so tiresome when people mistake subtlety for an invitation.” Her gaze flicked towards him. “All that effort, all that urgency, and for what ? A waste, really.”

Marcus sat rigid in the chair across from her, hands clasped tightly together. “It’s being handled.”

Mel held his gaze for a beat longer before she sighed, feigning disappointment. “Handled.” The word was light, like she was testing its weight on her tongue. “I do hope you mean thoroughly.”

Marcus stiffened. “Of course.”

She smiled at that. It wasn’t reassuring.

A dimly lit corridor. The scent of antiseptic clinging to the air, mixing with something heavier, like the echoes of a conversation no one wanted to have.

Marcus stood with his arms crossed, jaw tight. “You’re a smart man,” he said, voice level. “You know how these things go.”

The forensic pathologist adjusted his glasses, gaze darting toward the morgue door behind him. His fingers twitched at his side, as if fighting the urge to wipe his palms against his coat. “I—” He hesitated. “It’s… unusual, that’s all I’m saying. And if someone else were to—”

Marcus tilted his head, cutting him off. “But they won’t.”

A pause.

The pathologist swallowed.

Marcus took a step closer, lowering his voice. “You’ve done enough already. No need to draw more attention to yourself.”

The words weren’t a threat. Not really. Not directly. But they settled into the space between them like the final piece of a puzzle.

A beat passed, then another.

Finally, the man gave a stiff nod. “Understood.”

Marcus clapped him on the shoulder, a touch too firm to be friendly. “Good man.”

The moment stretched just long enough to leave a weight behind, then Marcus turned and walked away, leaving the scent of antiseptic and something heavier in his wake.

Viktor was dead.

It wasn’t as if she hadn’t expected it, not really. She had seen the way his body strained under the weight of his own genius, how the very thing that made him remarkable was also what consumed him. It was sad, tragic, even. And yet…

Her gaze flicked toward the door Jayce had walked through not long ago, before Marcus’s visit. He had been distant for weeks after it happened, slipping through her fingers like sand. But now, finally, he was back. And she would not let him be taken again.

Who had done it ? The question came and went like a passing shadow. A dying man had many enemies, some known, some invisible. But in the end, did it matter ?

Justice was a luxury for the living.

She exhaled, slow and measured, lifting her glass in a quiet, wordless toast. You will not be forgotten, Viktor, she thought, though she knew no justice would be made for him. But the world moves forward.

And so would she.

Jinx wasn’t one for patience, but she could make an exception when the occasion called for it. And breaking into Ekko’s place ? That definitely qualified as an occasion. The lock had been disappointingly easy to pick, almost insulting, really. For a detective, he sure didn’t make it hard to get inside. Or maybe he just didn’t expect anyone to try. Either way, she slipped in without trouble, shutting the door behind her with a lazy flick of her wrist.

The place was… cozy. Lived-in. It had that warm, cluttered feel, like someone actually existed here rather than just passing through. It was like she remembered. Books stacked in uneven piles, notes scattered on the desk. A workbench sat to the side, tools left exactly where he’d last used them. Jinx didn’t bother being careful. She moved through Ekko’s space like a cat who had already claimed it. She wasn’t sneaky about it, she didn’t need to be. If she was going to snoop, she might as well do it properly.

She dragged a finger along his notes, flipped through some papers, kicked off her boots, making herself comfortable to begin her research. She could start snooping properly, dig through drawers, crack open his laptop, find whatever secrets he was hiding. But where was the fun in doing that right away ?

She trailed her fingers along the edge of his desk, feeling the grooves in the wood, the worn-down spots where his hands must have rested countless times. A slow smirk tugged at her lips as she flipped open a drawer, rifling through its contents with an absent sort of curiosity.

And then, as she pulled out an old notebook, a thought came unbidden, a memory slipping in like a whisper through the cracks. The storm. The night she stayed here.

She had been soaked to the bone, rain dripping from her lashes, her clothes clinging uncomfortably to her skin. Looking at her like he was already regretting whatever dumb, reckless thing he was about to do, she remembered what he did for her. He had invited her.

And she had stayed.

She remembered the way the candlelight had flickered in the dark, the way his place smelled something faintly sweet, how his hoodie had been way too big. She had spent the night sprawled on his couch, listening to the rain hammer against the windows. The memory made something in her chest tighten, just for a second.

Jinx shook it off, refocusing on the present. She flipped the notebook open, skimming the words. She wasn’t here for anything that was. She was here for answers.

But as she rummaged through the rest of his drawers, she found herself smiling. Just a little.

But then, as if the world didn't want her to focus, she saw it.

The note. The one she had left behind that night, half as a joke, half as a thought she hadn't wanted to say out loud. She had expected him to throw it away, to let it disappear like the rainwater on his doorstep. But here it was, tucked neatly between the pages of his notebook, edges slightly creased like it had been handled more than once.

Her pulse kicked up, an unwelcome reaction. She swallowed, shoving the feeling down as she snatched it up.

Not the time.

Forcing herself to move, she flipped through his notes instead. A map of Viktor’s lab, marked with vents, entry points, all the places a person could slip through if they were small enough. A note about his illness, really nothing that she didn’t know. Jinx skimmed further.

Marcus. Working for someone high up. No surprise there.

Heimerdinger. His concerns about Viktor’s work. Viktor’s work itself. She paused.

The mechanical replacements, the enhancement of human bodies, that much she knew. But Ekko had something more detailed, something she hadn’t seen before. A sketch, not of a limb, not of a body, but of a neural interface.

A direct connection between mind and machine.

Jinx narrowed her eyes, the implications crawling under her skin. It wasn’t just about surviving. If Viktor had taken this further, it wouldn’t have just been about movement or health, it would have been about control. About overriding human instincts, rewriting emotions, rewiring what it even meant to feel. And Ekko knew. Jinx let out a slow breath, leaning back, her grip tightening on the edge of the notebook. This was bigger than she thought. Bigger than just Viktor trying to save himself.

Jinx’s fingers curled tighter around the notebook, her nails pressing into the cover as a slow, creeping realization settled over her like a shadow.

She should have spent more time in that lab.

The thought came bitterly, clawing at the back of her mind as she stared down at Ekko’s notes, at the meticulous handwriting detailing the things she had overlooked. She had known Viktor’s work was unconventional, his mind had always been on a different plane, reaching for something beyond human limits, but this ? This was a wild thing. She had considered it, of course. The possibility that Viktor had been killed because of his research. That someone had wanted him gone before he could take his ideas too far. But for some reason, she had never pieced together the thing that now sat so obviously in front of her. Like a puzzle where she had been staring at the wrong side of the pieces.

Her conversation with Jayce came back to her, how he had disagreed with Viktor, just as Heimerdinger had. How they had clashed over what should and shouldn’t be done. But grief like Jayce’s ? That kind of devastation wasn’t faked. He had loved Viktor. 

Loved ?

Her mind caught on the word. And suddenly, like a light flickering to life, she remembered.

Sevika had said there were rumors.

At the time, she had dismissed them. Gossip, whispers that echoed through Zaun’s bars and Piltover’s halls alike, nothing worth holding onto. But Sevika had heard them. Sevika, who didn’t give a shit about the idle talk of Pilties.

If she had heard it, then the rumor wasn’t just a rumor. It was big.

And if it was big enough for the streets to be talking…Mel had definitely heard it.

Jinx felt her pulse in her throat, hammering like a war drum as her mind worked at breakneck speed.

Mel Medarda. Jayce’s fiancée.

The woman he was supposed to be devoted to.

The woman who had power. Influence. Connections that stretched beyond what Jinx could fully grasp. The woman who had orchestrated Heimerdinger’s forced retirement as if moving pieces on a game board. She wasn’t just some rich councilwoman. She made things happen. She eliminated obstacles. And what was Viktor to her, if not an obstacle ?

Jinx sucked in a sharp breath, gripping the notebook so tightly it creaked under her fingers.

How had she not seen it before ?

It had slipped through her fingers, again and again, the way sand did, the way everything did when she wasn’t fast enough. She had been looking at everything, picking apart every angle, and yet this had never clicked.

But now it did.

Mel had motive. Mel had power.

And if she had wanted Viktor dead—

She could have done it.

Meanwhile, Ekko knew something was wrong the moment he got close to his place.

The door, his door unlocked. His pulse quickened. He hadn’t left it like that. And no one else had a key. His body tensed, years of instinct kicking in. Someone had broken in.

She sensed directly he was back. Jinx's mind raced. She didn’t have time to hide, not that she would, anyway. That wasn’t her style. But she also couldn’t just stand there like an idiot, notebook in hand, looking guilty as hell. Her eyes darted around the room, searching for something, anything, that could flip the situation in her favor. Then she spotted it. A vase. With a single, slightly wilted flower in it. Her lips curled into a grin. Perfect.

Ekko stepped closer, quiet, careful, listening. No immediate sounds. No movement. He slid a hand toward the weapon holstered at his side, fingers flexing around the grip as he pushed the door open fully with his foot.

With a quick flick of her wrist, she yanked the flower out of the vase, shaking off a few stray drops of water. Then, as the sound of the door unlocking filled the air, she dramatically threw herself onto Ekko’s desk, sitting there like it was her own, and held the flower out toward the door with the most innocent, shit-eating smile she could muster.

Ekko stepped in, tense, eyes scanning the room like he was ready for a fight. Inside, everything looked normal. No signs of struggle, no obvious mess, except… the faintest shift in the air, a presence he could feel even if he couldn’t see it yet. His gaze landed on her, sprawled out, arm extended, flower in hand.

"‘Sup, Firelight."

Ekko whipped around, instincts ready to strike....

And there she was. Jinx. Like it could be anyone else.

Sitting on his damn desk like she owned the place, legs swinging. Jinx twirled the slightly wilted flower between her fingers, watching Ekko’s face like a cat watching a mouse. His expression was a mix of suspicion and exasperation, but beneath that, she caught the flicker of something else, wariness. Not fear, not exactly, but the kind of tension someone could have when realising a stranger was in their home.

She waved the flower lazily. “What, no ‘thank you’ for the housewarming gift ?” she teased, but her eyes flickered, just for a second, to the notebook still open on the desk. 

Ekko’s notes, his thoughts, his suspicions,laid out like a puzzle she hadn’t quite solved yet. The joke was just a distraction, a beat to gauge his reaction. Because if Ekko had figured out something she hadn’t, if he had an agenda… well, that meant she wasn’t just playing catch-up. It meant she was behind. 

His breath left him in a sharp exhale, his body still wound tight.

"The hell are you doing in my house ?"

Jinx grinned, all teeth, as if she hadn't just given him a damn heart attack.

"Breaking and entering," she said cheerfully. "Duh."

Ekko dragged a hand down his face, tension morphing into exasperation.

"Jinx."

"Ekko," she mimicked, tilting her head, like this was all a game.

Ekko exhaled slowly, trying to force his heartbeat back to normal. "Why ?"

Jinx shrugged, still grinning. “Wanted to talk.”

“So you broke in ?”

“Yeah.”

Ekko closed his eyes for a second. "Unbelievable."

When he looked again, Jinx was still grinning, still swinging her legs like a kid with no cares in the world. But he wasn’t fooled. She was here for a reason. And he was gonna find out what.

Jinx gasped at his remark, clutching the flower to her chest like he had wounded her. “Wow, Firelight, that’s real rude ! I broke in to give you a gift” she wiggled the sad little flower between her fingers, “and this is how you treat me ?”

She sat up, twirling the flower between her fingers. “Relax, I’m not here to steal your top-secret detective stuff or whatever.” Lie. “I just missed ya.” Bigger lie. “Figured I’d come say hi.”

Ekko crossed his arms, unimpressed. “By breaking into my house ?”

Jinx grinned. “Would you have let me in if I knocked ?”

Ekko opened his mouth, then closed it. She had a point.

She leaned forward, offering him the flower again, tilting her head like she was the sweetest thing in the world. “Truce ?”

Ekko eyed her. Then the flower. Then her again.

“…That’s my flower,” he deadpanned.

Jinx gasped again, clutching it tighter. “Our flower.”

Ekko groaned, running a hand down his face. He was so done with her. But Jinx ? She was having the best time.

Ekko exhaled sharply, willing his pulse to slow the hell down.

It wasn’t just that Jinx had broken in, because of course she had, it was the fact that she was here, in his space, perched on his desk like she belonged there. Like she hadn’t been a hurricane in his life since the moment she came crashing back in. She tapped the surface with her fingers, watching him with amusement, completely at ease. “You look like you saw a ghost.”

Ekko crossed his arms, trying to seem unimpressed. “Nah. Just processing the absolute insanity of you thinking this is normal.”

Jinx grinned, all smug mischief. “Normal is boring.”

Ekko sighed. “Jinx.”

“Ekko,” she mimicked, her voice teasing as she leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees. “You gonna keep saying my name like that, or are you gonna offer me a drink ? ‘Cause damn, all that snooping made me thirsty.”

His eye twitched. He didn't think she'd admit it so quickly, but it wasn’t like she did not make it obvious. “You admit to snooping ?” 

“Uh, yeah ? I didn’t break in just to stare at your ugly furniture.”

Ekko groaned, rubbing his temples. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

God help him, she was right. Life had a sick sense of humor, his eyes flickered to her lips. For a second. A single, traitorous second.

And that was all it took for his brain to completely betray him.

Because suddenly, standing in his own damn room, he was painfully aware of the fact that not long ago, he had been in this exact space, dreaming about—

Oh hell no.

His stomach dropped in sheer, gut-wrenching horror.

He knew. He knew exactly where this was going.

This wasn’t just some dumb crush. This wasn’t just lingering history.

This was a full-blown, catastrophic, irreversible, absolutely-fucked levels of down-bad realization that he, of all men in the world, had feelings for Jinx. Or at the very least he felt attracted to her, which was already too much.

And she was right there. Looking at him like she knew something was off.

He had to say something, anything before she saw through him with her piercing eyes.

“You okay ?” she asked, tilting her head. “You look like you just realized you left your stove on.”

Ekko let out the most pathetic laugh. "Yup. That’s exactly it.”

Jinx narrowed her eyes. “You don’t have a stove, do you ?”

“Nope.”

Jinx squinted. “You’re acting weird.”

“I’m always weird.”

Jinx studied him for a second longer, then shrugged. “Fair point.”

Ekko resisted the urge to collapse on the spot.

Chapter Text

The lab was quiet, save for the soft hum of a burner heating a small pot. A steady hand measured out precise amounts of each ingredient, not a grain more or less than needed. Precision was everything.

A fine powder was sifted into the mixture, ground to near perfection, indistinguishable from the herbs it accompanied. The scent of chamomile and honey steeped into the air, masking anything that might have otherwise seemed amiss. A comforting aroma. Familiar.

The figure stirred slowly, methodically. This was not an act of malice, nor one of impulse. No, this required patience. An understanding of chemistry, of delicate balances, how a substance could soothe as easily as it could destroy, depending on the hand that administered it.

The cup was prepared with care, the liquid poured with the same practiced grace as always. A habit formed over years. It was almost second nature now.

There was no hesitation as the tray was set, as the cup was lifted. No guilt. No remorse.

Only quiet resolve.

Because this had to be done.

For Zaun. For Piltover.

For the future.

Jayce let out a long, frayed breath, dragging a hand down his face like he could scrub away the exhaustion etched into every line. “You should know better than anyone, Caitlyn,” he said, voice rough with restraint. “Your mother’s on the Council. You’ve seen the way it works. You know how tangled this all is.”

Caitlyn’s lips pressed into a firm, unreadable line. She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. The weight of his words hung heavy in the space between them. Jayce’s voice faded into silence, and for a moment, the only sound between them was the distant hum of the city outside. Caitlyn stood still, arms folded, but her composure was beginning to crack beneath the surface.

She should’ve felt more frustrated with him. This wasn’t the first time he’d offloaded something like this onto her, as though she were neutral ground in a war between lives. But instead, what she felt was far more complicate

Jayce leaned back in the chair, spine curving like it bore the pressure of all the choices he’d made. He stared up at the ornate ceiling above, its design suddenly distant, irrelevant. “The more time passes, the more I realize… I’m not built for this. I was never supposed to be a politician.” He exhaled, the sound brittle. “I’m a scientist. That’s who I am. My place is in the lab. With Viktor. That’s where it always felt right. Like I belonged.”

His voice caught on the name, barely perceptible, but Caitlyn noticed. She always did.

“But the deeper I get into this,” he continued, quieter now, like he was confessing something he hadn’t admitted even to himself, “the harder it is to just… walk away.”

Caitlyn crossed her arms, her gaze steady. “You could leave, Jayce. If that’s really what you want.”

He looked at her then, eyes tired but alert, filled with conflict that gnawed at the edges of his resolve. “It’s not that simple,” he murmured. “I used to think it was. Resign from the Council, walk away from the politics, from Mel, and go back to what matters. But… if I do that, if I disappear from that world, what happens to Viktor ? Who protects his work ? Who fights for him in those rooms where no one else will ?”

His hands clenched slowly into fists, knuckles pale with pressure. “Would they still fund him ? Would they even listen to him without me standing there to translate his brilliance into something palatable for the rest of them ?”

Caitlyn’s posture softened, her arms unfolding slightly. “Jayce—”

“Heimerdinger’s gone,” he cut in, his voice strained with something between grief and frustration. “He used to tell us stories, give us lectures about patience, responsibility… half the time they drove me insane, but he cared. He believed in us, me, Viktor, all of it. And now he’s gone, and I’m supposed to carry that alone.” He glanced away, jaw tightening. “But Viktor and I… we’re not aligned anymore. Not like before.”

That stilled Caitlyn. Her brows pulled together. “What do you mean ?”

Jayce’s hand went to his temple, rubbing in small, slow circles, like he could smooth out the ache forming beneath his skin. “He’s changed. Or maybe he’s just… showing me who he’s been all along. He’s always been a step ahead of me, always thinking beyond what I could grasp, and I’ve always admired that. Hell, I’ve built half my life around it. But now… the way he thinks, the risks he’s willing to take. It scares me, Cait.”

He looked down, his voice quieter now, fraying at the edges. “He’s chasing something, and I don’t know where it ends. But I’m terrified it won’t end with him alive.”

A long silence settled between them, heavy with things neither could say aloud.

Jayce let out a laugh, sharp, bitter, the sound of someone fraying from the inside. “With Mel, with the Council, it’s a game. Strategy, alliances, backroom deals. Always another angle, another trade. But with Viktor…” His eyes glossed with something unspoken. “With him, it was never a game. It was just… science. Just us. Like it used to be. Before everything got complicated.”

He ran a hand through his hair, the motion agitated, restless. “I do love her. Mel. She’s brilliant and terrifying and knows exactly how the world works. But I don’t know if I love the life that comes with her. The version of me I have to be to stand beside her.”

She glanced down, then away, jaw tight.

Mel. Viktor. The Council. Vi. Everyone was tangled in this, and now she was, too.

When she finally spoke, her voice was steady, but inside, her thoughts weren’t. “You need to make a choice, Jayce.”

It sounded simple. Like something a good friend would say.

But it wasn’t simple.

Because a part of her, the part raised under the cold, calculating eye of House Kiramman, understood what Jayce’s wavering could mean to Piltover. Politics didn’t bend for heartbreak. But instability could arise from it, especially with such important figures being part of it.

Another part of her, the one shaped by patrols and sleepless nights on the streets of Zaun, thought about Viktor. About how quiet he always was, how deliberate. About the way his hands trembled sometimes when no one was looking. She thought about what it meant to be brilliant in a world that only saw power, and how often it left people like him alone.

He let out a breath that felt like it scraped his lungs raw. “Yeah,” he said, hollow. “I know.”

Caitlyn frowned, the lines of worry deepening across her face, but she nodded once.

Jayce’s gaze met hers, steadier now, if only just. “Don’t tell anyone. Please. This… this is mine to figure out.”

Caitlyn hesitated. Secrets sat poorly with her. Especially ones that involved Mel. Or Vi. But there was a tremble in Jayce’s voice that sounded too honest to ignore.

But most of all, Caitlyn thought about Vi.

Vi, who would never forgive her for keeping secrets that could hurt the people. Vi, who saw the world in black and white far more often than Caitlyn ever could. Vi, who would read between the lines and see betrayal no matter how gently Caitlyn tried to explain.

And still… she couldn’t tell.

Jayce’s face looked different now, drawn, unguarded, no longer the golden boy with a council seat and the favor of Piltover behind him, no longer the big brother she always followed when she was little. He just looked tired. And lost.

Caitlyn sighed softly. “Alright,” she said, the word heavy. “But don’t wait too long. You owe them both the truth.”

Even as she said it, her stomach twisted. She hated this, being asked to carry someone else’s burden, to stand at the edge of a choice that wasn’t hers but would still leave its mark on her. Her silence would be a lie, and lies never sat right with her.

But she nodded anyway.

Because Jayce didn’t need a lecture. Not tonight.

And because sometimes, keeping the peace meant swallowing your own discomfort.

“Yeah,” Jayce murmured something flickering behind his eyes. Regret, maybe. Fear. Longing. “I know.” 

But the truth, the real truth, was one he couldn’t say aloud.

He didn’t know if he was strong enough to face it.

Not yet.

Caitlyn looked at him, really looked at him, and she realized it.

He might know what needed to be done.

But she wasn’t sure he ever would.

“Oh, right ! You got something fun in your files, by the way."

Ekko froze.

Jinx hummed, flipping lazily through a few pages. "Relax, genius. I didn’t steal your diary or anything." She held up the open notebook, one finger tapping a particular line. "But, I did find your little side notes on Viktor’s work."

Ekko’s stomach twisted. "You read that ?"

"Wasn’t exactly hidden," Jinx pointed out. "You left it right here, all nice and open. Practically begging to be read."

Ekko muttered something under his breath. He knew he should’ve locked that notebook up, but he hadn’t expected her to waltz in and…wait.

His eyes narrowed. "How much did you read ?"

Jinx spun in his desk chair. "Enough to know you know more than you’re telling people."

Ekko’s jaw clenched. This was bad. He hadn’t told anyone about the pieces he was trying to put together, not until he was sure. But now Jinx knew he’d been digging deeper into Viktor’s research, and that meant—

Jinx’s grin widened. "Bingo. That’s the look of a guy who knows something."

Ekko ran a hand down his face. "You weren’t supposed to see that."

"Yeah, well, life’s full of disappointments." Jinx leaned forward, elbows on her knees. 

She was still smirking, but he caught the slight narrowing of her eyes. She was actually bothered.

And of course she was.

Ekko exhaled sharply, running a hand over his head. "Jinx."

"Ekko," she fired back, but there was an edge to it now.

She was annoyed. And not just in the usual ‘I enjoy getting a rise out of you’ way.

He frowned, watching her more closely. "You’re mad."

Jinx scoffed, tilting her head like that was a stupid thing to say. "Mad ? Please." She spun again, arms folded behind her head. "I just think it’s funny, hilarious, even, that I helped you get a read on Viktor’s file, but this ?" She tapped the notebook. "You didn’t think to share this with me ?"

Ekko felt something in his chest twist.

She had helped. Even though she didn’t gain anything from it. She was making him feel a bit ashamed and guilty, but how was he supposed to know she wanted to know his notes on the subject ? It’s not like they were close enough to regularly talk about the case, whenever they shared info, it was usually by accident, when they happened to bump into each other.

"It’s not like that" he said, and instantly knew it was the wrong thing.

Jinx raised an eyebrow. "Oh ? Then what’s it like, genius ?"

Ekko hesitated. Truth was, he hadn’t meant to keep it from her. He’d just… been trying to make sense of it himself first. And maybe, maybe he hadn’t been sure if he should share. Jinx was reckless. She went all in, no brakes.

And now, watching her stare at him, still tapping that notebook with restless fingers, he realized she wasn’t just annoyed.

She was disappointed.

That shouldn’t bother him as much as it did.

Ekko crossed his arms, shifting his weight. "I wasn’t hiding it from you, Jinx. I was trying to figure out what it meant first."

Jinx made a face. "Right. Sure. Classic Ekko, always thinking, never doing." She spun again, but this time it was sharper, more frustrated. "Look, I get it, okay ? I know I’m not exactly the ‘trust with sensitive information’ type."

Ekko’s stomach twisted again. "Jinx, that’s not—"

She held up a hand. "Nah, nah, it’s fine." But he saw it, how her lips pressed together for just a second, her jaw tightening before she forced the smirk back. "Anyway, I already read it, so cat’s outta the bag. Anything else interesting that you didn't write about ?"

Ekko should have been focusing on what she was asking. On the fact that she had just uncovered something huge in his investigation.

Instead, all his brain registered was how the light hit her face when she looked up at him, the way she bit her lip when she was thinking, the way she was looking at him—

Oh, he was so screwed.

He forced himself to shake it off, trying to focus. "I don’t know anything more."

Jinx blinked. "What do you mean you don’t know ? You’re supposed to be the smart one." She scoffed, shaking her head. "Y'know, kinda funny. You made a whole big deal about me keeping things to myself, but here you are, sitting on this without a word."

Ekko exhaled, leveling her with a look. "I wasn’t hiding it from you."

Jinx grinned, but there was an edge to it now. "Oh sure, sure."

Ekko clenched his jaw. He should’ve seen this coming.

Jinx didn’t seem mad, at least, not the kind of mad that came with yelling or gunfire, but she was amused in that way that usually meant trouble. And beneath the humor, there was something else. Something he couldn’t quite read.

She twirled a lock of blue hair around her finger, feigning boredom. "Man, and here I thought you were supposed to be the good one."

Ekko sighed, rubbing his temples. "Jinx—"

"Relax," she drawled, snapping the notebook shut. "I just think it's real cute how you act like I'm the one who sucks at teamwork."

Ekko was never going to survive this.

Not because Jinx had broken into his place. Not because she had found his notebook and was now flipping through it like it was her damn business. No. He was going to die because he was acting like a complete idiot.

Like a prepubescent schoolboy dealing with his first crush. And that was ridiculous. He was a grown man. He had responsibilities, a whole-ass investigation to worry about, and here he was, struggling to hold eye contact like some awkward teenager.

Ekko ignored the way his stomach flipped. He was doomed.

Ekko forced himself to stay still. This was not the time to start spiraling. Not over the fact that she had a point. Not over the fact that she was still flipping through his notebook like she had every right to it. And definitely not over the way her mouth quirked up when she was teasing him.

He needed to turn this back around. “Didn’t take you for the type to care about missing details,” he said, arms crossed.

Jinx snorted. “I don’t. Unless they make things interesting.” She leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm. “And you, my dear Firefly, just got a whole lot more interesting.”

God, she was having way too much fun with this.

Ekko scoffed. “Right. Because me taking notes is so scandalous. It’s called ‘organizing information,’" he said flatly. "Something you might wanna try sometime."

Jinx gasped, pressing a hand to her chest in fake offense. "Oh no, the nerd is mad at me. Whatever shall I do ?"

Ekko groaned. "Can we focus ?"

Here she was, not mad exactly, but amused at the irony of it all.

“But this looks like you playing keep-away with intel. I love the real role reversal we got going on.” Jinx gestured loosely with the notebook. “What else you got in here ? Confessions ? Love letters ? A tragic poem about how much you hate my guts ?”

His brain short-circuited for a split second. Love letters—? Oh, hell no.

He snatched the notebook back, shoving it under a pile of papers like that would erase the past minute from existence. “It’s research, Jinx. Not a damn diary.”

“Shame.” She swung her legs up onto the desk, completely ignoring his look of horror. “Would’ve loved to read all about your inner turmoil.”

Oh, if only she knew.

Ekko dragged a hand down his face. “If you want to know it so much, let me tell you you're participating in it. You do realize breaking and entering isn’t a casual pastime, right ?”

Jinx gasped, mock-offended. “Are you judging me ?”

“Absolutely.”

“Well, excuse me for being thorough.” She spread her arms wide. “Had to make sure you weren’t up to something shady. Turns out, you were.”

Ekko groaned. “It’s not shady. It’s—”

“Secretive,” she finished for him. “Same difference.”

He wanted to argue. Really, he did. But the way she was watching him, head tilted, like she was waiting to see what excuse he’d pull next. Yeah, he wasn’t giving her the satisfaction. Instead, he exhaled sharply and turned back to his desk, trying to ignore the fact that Jinx was still very much there, feet propped up, grinning like she owned the place.

She tapped a finger against her lips. “Sooo… if you weren’t planning on telling me about Viktor’s work, does that mean there’s other juicy stuff you’re keeping to yourself ?”

Ekko refused to look at her. He absolutely refused. Because if he did, there was a very real chance his dumb, traitorous brain would remind him that she was right there, that she smelled like gunpowder and something sweet, that—

Nope. Not happening. He was not doing this.

Jinx laughed. “You’re making that face.”

“What face ?”

“The one that says ‘oh no, Jinx is right and I hate it.’”

He grabbed the closest thing on his desk and chucked it at her.

Jinx caught the stress ball mid-air, still grinning. “Touched a nerve, huh ?”

Ekko grumbled something under his breath and sat back in his chair, arms crossed, legs stretched out. “I just think it’s real funny how I’m suddenly the bad guy for not sharing everything.”

Jinx tilted her head, watching him for a beat longer than necessary. “Funny how that works, huh ?”

It was ridiculous. All of this was ridiculous. He was a grown-ass man. He’d been in fights, led his people, faced things far worse than this, and yet here he was, fumbling like some prepubescent idiot because Jinx was in his space. Ekko’s heart pounded. She had him pegged, and it was like the whole conversation had shifted from playful teasing to... something else. Something more serious.

He looked at her, ready to come up with something, anything, but the words stuck in his throat. Jinx wasn’t even trying to make him feel bad, she was just stirring the pot, seeing how far she could push him before he cracked.

And yet, there was a small part of him that felt guilty. She was right. Maybe it was time to stop being such a stubborn idiot. Maybe it was time to admit that he was acting weird, that he was feeling something for her he didn’t want to face. But no, he couldn’t do it. He wasn’t ready for that.

“Alright, fine,” he said, gritting his teeth. “You want a drink ? I’ll get you one.”

Jinx raised an eyebrow, looking thoroughly unimpressed. “Oh, so now you’re offering me a drink ? After all that drama ?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. “I’m just—I’ll get it.”

“Uh-huh very subtle way of changing the subject,” Jinx said, clearly not buying the act. She gave him a cheeky grin. “Yeah, you’re totally not acting weird or anything.”

Ekko groaned. This was ridiculous. She was right. He was acting like a schoolboy with a crush, and he hated every second of it. As much as he hated to admit it, he couldn’t help but feel a little bit relieved that she was still here, still teasing him. Maybe, just maybe, it was all part of some strange, twisted game. And for once, he wasn’t sure if he was winning or losing. But damn, if he didn’t enjoy the ride.

Jinx stood, walking past him. She glanced back, a sly grin still playing on her lips. “If you want to hide something, you could just tell me. No need to get all weird about it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s just forget about it, okay ?” He let out a breath as he headed toward the kitchen, hoping to put some distance between himself and Jinx’s relentless teasing. He could hear her footsteps behind him, and though he tried to ignore it, the constant pressure of her presence made his heart race again.

“So,” Jinx’s voice drifted toward him, mischievous as ever, “what kind of drink are you gonna make me ? Something fancy ? Or do you just do the usual ‘water in a glass’ routine ?”

Ekko shot her a glance over his shoulder, exasperated. “I’m not a bartender, Jinx. What do you want, huh ?”

“Okay, fine,” she said, her voice bright with an idea. “Give me a bubblegum-flavored drink.”

Ekko froze for a moment, his hand still holding a bottle of juice. He blinked. “Bubblegum ? Really ?”

“Yeah. You got a problem with that ?” she teased, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe. 

He frowned, still not entirely sure if she was serious. "Jinx, bubblegum flavor ? Do you even know what you're asking for ? Who the hell has that ?"

She shrugged nonchalantly, clearly amused by his reaction. "Sorry mister boring drinks for having some taste." She leaned in, her grin widening. "Besides, if you can’t handle bubblegum, how am I supposed to trust your taste in anything else ?”

Ekko raised an eyebrow, his stomach twisting in knots. There was something about her playful tone, the way she always managed to push his buttons just enough, that made him want to argue with her even when he knew he was losing. “Water it is.”

“What ? Who even drinks water ? It’s plan as fuck !”

He grabbed a bottle of fresh water from the fridge, giving her a side-eye as he poured it into a glass. "How can you still be alive ?"

“If you're going to make me a weird drink, you might as well get me some snacks too. Something crunchy. Like chips, or crackers. Oh, and don’t forget the weird cheese sticks, those are always fun.”

Ekko looked at her in disbelief. “It’s just water. And you want me to serve you a full meal now ?”

She shrugged, clearly not fazed by his sarcasm. “Hey, I’ve been through a lot tonight. A snack wouldn’t hurt. Plus, it’s already a crime to drink something without flavor, at least follow it up with something to munch on.”

He ran a hand over his face, trying to suppress the groan rising in his throat. He couldn't figure out if Jinx was just naturally high-maintenance or if she had this uncanny ability to make him do things he never planned on doing. “You’ve got some nerve, you know that ?”

Jinx gave him a playful grin, her eyes glinting with her signature challenge. “I’m just making sure you're being a good host. Come on, Ekko. You’ve got the whole ‘serious investigator’ thing going on. But I think I’m really bringing out your other side.”

Ekko groaned internally. Stop making me want to laugh . Stop it right now. But of course, his traitorous lips twitched into a half-smile.

“Fine,” he muttered. “I’ll get you your damn snacks. But I’m not going to be your personal butler, Jinx.”

She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Whatever, mister ‘I’m too cool for snacks.’”

“Too cool for you,” he shot back, grabbing a bag of chips from the cabinet and tossing it onto the counter.

“Ew cringe, what are you seventy years old ?” Jinx peered into the bag, then looked back at him with a smug grin. “I’ve had worse snacks from vending machines. You sure this is your best effort ?”

Ekko gave her a look, completely deadpan. “If you don’t like it, you’re free to go make your own snacks, princess.”

Jinx ignored his jab, pulling a handful of chips from the bag and munching on them. “Eh, they’re fine. Could use more flavor though. You’re slipping, Ekko.”

“Yeah, because I’ve been slaving away in the kitchen all day,” he replied sarcastically, leaning against the counter again.

“Slaving away ? You mean you just pulled chips out of a bag.” She gave him an exaggerated, disappointed frown. “I thought we were on the same team here.”

Ekko couldn’t help but laugh, despite the ridiculousness of it all. “Right. Because chips are a team effort.”

“Exactly,” she said with all the seriousness in the world. “And don’t forget, next time, cookies.”

He raised an eyebrow, chuckling at the audacity. “Cookies, huh? You sure are picky for someone who broke into my apartment.”

Jinx smirked. “Hey, I do what I want. And I’m not picky. I just know how to appreciate the finer things in life.” 

Ekko shook his head, still trying to act like he wasn’t caught up in her teasing. Cookies, he thought to himself, incredulous.

“Fine. Cookies next time,” he relented, though he didn’t know if he’d even have time to get them. “But only because you’re so charming.”

Jinx flashed him a wicked grin. “Well, you know, I’ve been told I’m irresistible. Can’t blame you for falling for my charm.”

Ekko rolled his eyes, but despite himself, he felt his heart race a little faster. “Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that.”

Jinx’s grin softened a fraction as she took another handful of chips. “You know, you’re kinda cute when you’re trying not to show it.”

He froze, caught off guard by the sudden shift in her tone. He forced himself to keep his composure, but his face betrayed him. “I—what ?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” she said, leaning back with a knowing look. “I can tell. You’ve got that whole ‘I’m-not-interested-but-I-am’ vibe going on.”

Ekko blinked, his stomach twisting. No. She couldn’t have known. She can’t have.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said quickly, his voice a little too sharp. “I’m not interested in anything—least of all you.”

Jinx’s smile didn’t falter, though her eyes danced with amusement. “Sure. If you say so.”

And though he tried to dismiss it, the seed of doubt she’d planted in his mind took root, leaving him even more uncertain.

Ekko opened a cabinet, pretending to look for something, but really, he just needed a second to breathe. Because what the hell, Jinx was in his space, making herself at home like she did this all the time. Like she belonged here.

It was throwing him off.

Badly.

She popped another chip into her mouth, legs still swinging from her perch on the counter. She really liked sitting on furniture. “So. The autopsy.”

Ekko nearly dropped the glass he had just grabbed. “What ?”

“The autopsy, genius,” Jinx repeated, watching him like she was sizing him up. “You know, the one we didn’t get ?”

Ekko turned, leaning against the counter, hoping it made him look nonchalant. “Yeah. What about it ?”

She squinted. “Don’t play dumb. We both know someone got to it before us.”

His fingers tightened around the glass. Right. The damn investigation. The actual reason she was here, not to drive him insane with her presence. “Whoever has it is either hiding something or trying to keep people from panicking,” he said carefully.

Jinx hummed, tilting her head. “Yeah. Or they just don’t want us poking around.”

Ekko watched her for a beat. Her eyes flickered over him, unreadable, and it hit him again, how sharp she was. She was reckless, yeah, but not stupid.

And she was looking at him too closely.

“So… what’s the address of that orphanage ?”

“Huh ?”

She rolled her eyes. “The orphanage, Firelight. Y’know, where Isha is.”

Ekko narrowed his eyes, instantly on guard. “Why ?”

Jinx shrugged, feigning nonchalance as she picked at a loose thread on her glove. “Just wanna see her.”

Ekko didn’t buy it for a second. 

“What ?” she said innocently. “I can’t check in on a kid ? Oh and by the way who’s Enora ?”

Ekko blinked. “Enora ?” Why was she asking him about her all of a sudden ?

She might’ve brushed it off. She might’ve made it into a joke.

But yeah. She definitely noticed Enora.

“You know. Enora. The woman at the orphanage. The one who cut you off when you were talking to me. Seemed real comfortable around you.” She popped a chip in her mouth, chewing like she hadn’t just said something loaded.

Ekko frowned, caught off guard by the way she said comfortable. “She runs the place,” he said, watching Jinx closely. “She looks out for the kids. And yeah, she can be a little… I dunno.” He waved a hand, searching for the word.

Jinx supplied it for him. “Touchy ?”

Ekko stared. “I was gonna say overbearing, but okay.”

Jinx just gave a little hum, still munching on chips. “She seemed real interested in you.”

Ekko squinted at her. “Why do you care ?”

“I don’t.”

That was too fast. Too casual. Like she was brushing something off before it even got close.

Ekko, still on high alert because his dumb brain was hyper-focused on everything about her right now, didn’t miss the way she suddenly found her nails fascinating. Or how she leaned back just a little further, like putting more space between them would make her comment less noticeable.

She wasn’t jealous. Of course not. That would be ridiculous.

But she had noticed. And that was interesting.

Still, he let it go. “Yeah, well. She’s just looking out for the kids.”

“Mm.” Jinx took another sip of her ridiculous bubblegum soda. “You sure she’s not just looking out for you ?”

Ekko sighed, running a hand down his face. “Do you want there to be something there, or are you just messing with me ?”

Jinx grinned. “Why not both ?”

Ekko groaned. “I hate you.”

“Aw, don’t be mad.” 

Jinx leaned against the counter, looking at her drink her mind was elsewhere. She had been sure Ekko had an agenda. Positive. Vi had warned her, and it had made sense. Ekko was always so careful, so methodical. He had given her enough self-righteous lectures about teamwork and trust, only for her to find something in his notebook that he hadn’t shared. She had expected him to dodge, deflect, maybe even throw accusations back at her. Instead, here they were, having a completely normal conversation in his kitchen, like none of it mattered. Like he hadn’t just caught her snooping through his things, and she hadn’t been convinced he was hiding something bigger.

It was weird.

And then there was the way he looked at her.

Jinx was good at reading people, she had to be, in this job. She knew how to pick up on hesitation, on tells, on people lying. And yet, Ekko didn’t look like someone who had something to hide. He wasn’t avoiding her gaze or getting defensive. His expression was so open, so genuinely frustrated with her teasing that it almost threw her off.

That was disturbing.

Because if Ekko was playing a game, he was doing it better than anyone else she had ever met.

Jinx found herself gripping her glass a little tighter. She should not have remembered Enora’s name. That woman had been background noise, just another person in the room. There was no reason to even think about her, let alone bring her up. And yet, she had. Without thinking. Like it had been sitting in her head, waiting for the right moment to slip out. That irritated her more than anything.

The worst part ? She was comfortable.

Too comfortable.

For all her earlier suspicions, sitting in Ekko’s space didn’t feel strange or out of place. She wasn’t tense, wasn’t on edge. Even after what happened in the morgue, even after him finding his notes, she wasn’t mad. With anyone else, she would have snapped, at least more than she did right now. But with him ? She had let it slide, staying, talking.

And she had no idea why.

Jinx hated feeling uncertain. It wasn’t like her. She liked things clear, sharp, decisive. You were either on her side or you weren’t. She trusted you, or she didn’t. There was no in-between, no hesitation.

Yet here she was, stuck in some ridiculous gray area with Ekko.

She had wanted to be mad about what she found in his notebook. Wanted to see it as proof that Vi was right, that Ekko had his own agenda, that he was just as bad at sharing as he accused her of being. And yet, that certainty had crumbled the second she looked at him. He had panicked when she flipped through his notes —really panicked— but not in the way someone caught hiding important information would. No, that had been something else. Something more personal. And if Ekko was keeping things from her, why the hell would he be sitting here now, casually handing her a drink and teasing her about her weird taste in soda flavors ?

He was confusing as hell.

And the fact that she was even thinking this much about it annoyed her to no end.

Jinx tapped her fingers against the counter, her nails clicking against the metal, pretending she wasn’t still feeling off about the way he had looked at her earlier. Like she was something new to him. Like he had never really seen her before. It was weird. And uncomfortable. And a little bit—

No.

She shut that thought down fast.

Instead, she latched onto the thing that had come out of her mouth before she could stop it. Enora. That had been a mistake. A slip. Jinx wasn’t the type to get caught up on random nobodies, and Enora was definitely a nobody. But the second she had seen Ekko’s face when she said the name, something in her twisted. It wasn’t anger, not exactly. It wasn’t jealousy, obviously. She just—

Didn’t like the woman. That was all.

It had nothing to do with the way Enora had been looking at Ekko. Or the way she had laughed at everything he said. Or how familiar she had been acting, like she had some claim on him. None of that mattered.

Ekko had been watching her the whole time, like he could hear her thoughts if he just stared hard enough. She didn’t like that, either.

“What ?” she finally asked, narrowing her eyes.

Ekko blinked, like she had just snapped him out of something.

Jinx tilted her head.

Yeah. Something was definitely weird.

Ekko squinted at her. “Why do you care ?”

“I don’t.”

That was too fast. Too casual. Like she was brushing something off before it even got close.

Ekko, still on high alert because his dumb brain was hyper-focused on everything about her right now, didn’t miss the way she suddenly found her nails fascinating. Or how she leaned back just a little further, like putting more space between them would make her comment less noticeable.

She wasn’t jealous. Of course not. That would be ridiculous.

But she had noticed. And that was interesting.

Still, he let it go. “Yeah, well. She’s just looking out for the kids.”

“C’mon, tell me the truth, if she asked you out, would you say yes ?”

Ekko made a face. “No.”

Jinx tilted her head. “No ?”

Ekko crossed his arms. “She’s not my type.”

Jinx raised an eyebrow. “And what is your type ?”

Ekko froze.

Jinx smirked. “Interesting reaction.”

“Shut up.”

She laughed, finally satisfied, and let the topic drop. But as the conversation shifted back to Viktor’s autopsy, or the lack thereof, Ekko kept sneaking glances at her, still catching little tells. The way her fingers drummed against the counter. The quick little side-eye when she thought he wasn’t looking.

“You’re still tense. What, you expecting me to set something on fire ?"

"Honestly ? Yeah."

She gasped, pressing a hand to her chest in mock offense. "You wound me, Firelight."

Ekko forced himself to look at her, regretted it instantly. Why did she have to sit like that ? Why did she have to smirk like that ? Why did she have to be Jinx ?

Her gaze flickered, studying him again. A slow, creeping grin spread across her face. "Wait a second."

Ekko felt his soul leave his body. "No."

Jinx hopped off his desk, stepping closer, that predatory gleam in her eye. "Oh no no, don’t ‘no’ me. You’re being weird. I know weird. And this ? This is something juicy."

Ekko took a step back. "You’re imagining things."

"Am I ?"

"Yes."

Jinx tapped her chin, way too entertained by his suffering. "So if I—" she suddenly leaned in, closing the space between them way too fast, "—do this,"

Ekko nearly choked.

He shot backward, bumping into the desk with an embarrassing thud.

Jinx stared at him, then oh god grinned.

She knew.

"Oh my god." Jinx’s eyes went wide, pure, delighted mischief flashing across her face. "No way."

Ekko scrambled for an escape. "You’re delusional."

Jinx pointed at him. "You're crushing on me."

"I am not !"

"You totally are !"

Ekko groaned, burying his face in his hands. This was it. His villain origin story.

Jinx cackled. "This is the best day of my life."

The tea was still warm.

Viktor cradled the cup in both hands, his grip slack from the tremors that had grown worse these past weeks. They danced in his fingers like the quiet ticking of a clock winding down. He didn’t mind them—not tonight. The stars, veiled behind the murky stained glass above his lab, offered no comfort. Still, he imagined them, clear, sharp, burning, as he had when he was young and believed in possibilities.

He had finally made progress.

A breakthrough. Not a cure, not yet. But a light in the dark. And there was still so much left to do.

He had just returned from the council chamber, the tension still clinging to his shoulders like a second coat. Another battle of ideals. Another compromise. Mel had smiled at him, that careful, knife-edged smile. Jayce had spoken with all the passion of a man who still believed in clean solutions. Viktor had watched, listened, and said little.

He preferred the lab. He always had.

He sipped the tea. Bitter, grounding. But tonight, the bitterness lingered in an unfamiliar way, coating the inside of his mouth like ash. It wasn't all that surprising from a cup of tea he didn't even remember serving himself. Was he that tired ? He set the cup down with a trembling hand, blinking through the sudden fog curling at the edges of his vision. The notes before him bled into one another, blurring ink, fading meaning. A tightness, low and insistent, coiled in his chest. Not pain. No… something heavier. Something wrong.

Viktor exhaled, slow and steady, and tried to rise.

He couldn’t.

He blinked harder, his thoughts stumbling. Something is wrong.

Was it the illness ?

No. The symptoms didn’t fit. This, this was too swift. Too violent. His breathing hitched, stuttered. He reached for the desk, fingers barely twitching toward salvation. A bitter film crawled up his throat.

His hand spasmed. Then his shoulder. His legs were dead weight. His spine locked. Inside his chest, something clutched, tight, unnatural.

Panic bloomed. Cold. Immediate.

He struggled to stand. His cane clattered to the floor with a hollow, final sound. He followed it down, crumpling hard onto the tiles. They were unforgiving against his cheek. His limbs, unresponsive. His body, a prison.

Not a seizure. Not fatigue. Not the sickness that had shadowed him for years. This was worse. Slower. Deliberate.

He lay there, helpless, each breath shallower than the last. His lungs strained, fighting for air that wouldn’t come. His heart thudded, erratic, terrified. The bitterness on his tongue was no longer just tea.

It hit him.

This isn’t natural.

His mind, sharp even now, raced through symptoms, causes, theories. What was in the tea ? When ? He retraced every step, every word exchanged. And then—

A name.

A smile that lingered just a heartbeat too long.

His breath caught in his throat like a trap snapping shut.

He had trusted.

Jayce.

His lips parted soundlessly. He tried to speak, to call out. But his voice had gone quiet before his body did. The sound stayed trapped in his lungs.

Jayce .

Gods, he didn’t want to die. Not like this. Not yet. Not when there was still so much unsaid. So much he’d never dared give voice to. He wanted to apologize for the coldness, for the distance. For not telling Jayce how often he thought about him, even when they fought. For never saying how that moment in the lab, when they’d created something from nothing, had never truly left him.

Jayce had always seen the world as something to mold. To fix. To save. And Viktor… Viktor had only ever wanted to understand it. But just as he began to understand himself, his love, his guilt, his hope , his time ran out.

A flicker crossed his fading thoughts: the child. Isha.

The quiet girl with the wide, thoughtful eyes who had begun to haunt his hours like a benign ghost. She had never asked for anything. She had only been. A reminder. Of quiet. Of purpose. Of simpler times.

He would never see her again.

He would never finish his work.

He would never know if Jayce came back in the morning.

He would never find out who—

His breath hitched. Froze.

The last thought that flared in the brilliant decay of his mind was a silent scream.

He had been murdered.

His final thought wasn’t of who. It was why.

The lights above flickered once. Then held.

And Viktor’s body, still and folded awkwardly on the cold tile, had no answer to give.

Chapter Text

Jinx tossed her phone onto the counter like it was nothing, screen still lit up from the last message she’d opened. She didn’t say anything at first, just stretched her arms over her head with a satisfied sigh, as if she hadn’t been stewing over that text since she received it.

Ekko glanced up from the files he was sorting, his curiosity piqued.

“Something fun ?” he asked without looking directly at her.

“Not unless you consider passive-aggressive threats your idea of a party,” she said lightly, then nudged the phone toward him with her knuckle. “Figured I’d ask if you got one too.”

Ekko frowned and picked up the device, already tense before his eyes even found the screen.

Three words. Clean. Precise. Icy.

Stop digging.

Ekko felt his breath hitch as he stared at the message. His grip tightened around Jinx’s phone, knuckles going white. Someone knew. Someone was watching . And they didn’t warn him, they warned her.

His eyes flicked to Jinx, lounging on the counter like she hadn’t just shown him proof that someone wanted her to back off. She was grinning, all sharp teeth and reckless confidence, but Ekko wasn’t fooled. 

“You good ?” His voice came out rougher than he intended.

Jinx quirked a brow. “Am I good ?” She laughed, shaking her head. “You’re acting like I got a death threat or something.”

Ekko didn’t laugh. “Jinx, I’m serious.”

Her smirk faltered, just for a second. She wasn’t used to him saying her name like that, like he actually cared. Because he did.

She hopped off the counter, brushing past him like it was nothing. “Relax, Firefly. If I freaked out every time someone told me to stop what I was doing, I wouldn’t get out of bed in the morning.”

Ekko exhaled sharply, trying to ignore the way his stomach twisted at her nonchalance. “That’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny.”

“Jinx.” He caught her wrist before she could move away again. She blinked, surprised, not by his grip, but by the look on his face. Fuck, he was so bad at hiding things. Not like it mattered now she knew.

“I’m serious.” His voice dropped lower. “You’re in the middle of this, and we don’t even know who we’re pissing off yet. And I—” He hesitated, just for a second, then decided to hell with it. “I don’t like the idea of someone coming after you.”

Jinx stared at him. Then, as if on instinct, she scoffed, shoving his chest just enough to make him let go. “You’re worried about me ?”

Ekko crossed his arms. “Yeah, no shit.”

She let out a short, breathy laugh, but something in her chest twisted in a way she did not like. She was Jinx. She was the problem. 

But Ekko ? He was standing there, looking at her like she mattered. Like this wasn’t just an investigation, or an old rivalry, or whatever-the-hell weird tension had been hanging between them lately.

Her heart did something complicated. She didn’t like it.

For a second, neither of them spoke. The air between them felt thick, heavier than it should have been. Ekko’s jaw clenched like he was holding something back—words, maybe, or something bigger—and Jinx, for once, didn’t have anything smart to say. She could feel it pressing at the edges of her mind, the quiet, dangerous idea that maybe someone really could give a damn about her without an ulterior motive.

And it terrified her.

People didn’t worry about Jinx. They crossed the street when they saw her coming. They loaded their weapons a little faster. They built thicker walls, spoke her name in low voices, like she was a ghost they hoped not to wake.

But Ekko was just... standing there. Still standing. Still looking at her like she wasn’t a bomb about to go off in his face.

It made her restless. Angry, almost. Like she wanted to shake him, or kiss him, or run a mile in the opposite direction. She didn’t even know anymore. She hated that feeling — hated the idea that someone might get close enough to see the mess underneath.

Her fingers twitched at her side, an impulse she barely stopped.

So, she smirked instead. Armor up. Deflect. That’s what she was good at.

“Damn,” she drawled, tilting her head at him with a mock-pitying look, “you are really gone for me, huh ?”

Ekko groaned like she physically hurt him, dragging a hand down his face. “You’re actually insufferable.”

“I know,” she said brightly, grinning wider, the way you grin when you're bleeding and don't want anyone to see. “But seriously, you don’t have to worry about me. If anything, you should be worried about you.”

Ekko frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean ?”

Jinx leaned back against the counter, twirling a braid around her fingers. “Well, you didn’t get a warning message, did you ? Maybe you’re just less of a threat.”

That… was a damn good point.

Ekko bristled. “The Firelights don’t have the same reach as Zaun Investigation, sure, but—”

“That’s exactly my point,” Jinx cut in, tilting her head. “If this was some ‘stay out of it’ power play, you’d think they’d hit both of us, right ? But no. Just me.”

Ekko’s stomach twisted again, but this time, it was for an entirely different reason. Jinx was the problem. But not in the way she liked to think. She was the bigger threat. Not just because of who her father was, but because she was good at this.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “You ever considered not making yourself a target ?”

Jinx smirked. “You ever considered I like the attention ?”

Ekko gave her a look.

She grinned but didn’t push it. “Relax, Stopwatch. We’ll figure out who’s behind this.”

Ekko wasn’t so sure. His pulse was still racing, not just from the case, but from her. From the way she dodged sincerity like it was gunfire, the way she acted like nothing could touch her, the way she looked at him like he was the ridiculous one when she was the one throwing her phone at him like it was nothing.

She was chaos. She was impossible. And she had him completely fucking hooked.

Yeah. He was so, so screwed.

The streets of Zaun were quieter at this hour. Not still, Zaun never truly slept, but subdued. The usual chaos had settled into a low hum, a breath held between danger and exhaustion. Viktor moved through it with his head bowed and his cane tapping softly against the wet concrete, each step deliberate.

The air was thick with smog and the tang of rust, familiar and sharp in his lungs. He didn't mind. He had grown up inhaling this place, its rot and grit embedded in the tissue of his body, in the ache of his bones. No perfume of polished marble halls could ever erase that.

But it wasn't home. Not anymore.

He told himself the path he was taking was necessary. That what he was building would help people like him, people who had spent their entire lives fighting the slow betrayal of their bodies. And yet, as he neared the old iron steps leading down to the Last Drop, doubt gnawed at him.

Silco was not a man one went to lightly. He wasn’t a benefactor. He was a tactician. A predator. A king in a court of smoke and ash. Asking him for support wasn’t just desperation, it was a declaration. A line crossed.

Piltover had rejected him, yes—but something deeper stung beneath the dismissal. It wasn’t just the loss of funding or approval. It was betrayal. From Jayce, from the Council, from a city that used to call him its golden exception. They smiled at him until he proposed something they couldn’t comprehend. Until he reminded them of where he came from.

Now he was returning to the place he had tried to rise above. The irony clung to him like oil.

He paused just outside the entrance to the Last Drop. His reflection stared back at him in the dark window, a warped silhouette outlined in rusted neon. Not quite man, not yet machine. Something in between. Something unfinished.

He inhaled slowly.

This was no longer about permission.

It was about survival.

About breaking the ceiling they had all been told was the sky.

If Piltover would not see the future, he would carve it from the ruins beneath their feet.

There was no future left for men like him if they waited for approval, only a slow death, a polite decay behind gilded walls.

And he was tired of asking to exist.

Viktor knew what he was about to do would brand him a traitor in some eyes.

A desperate man in others.

He didn't care.

Progress demanded more than clean hands and cautious dreams.

It demanded sacrifice. Ruthlessness. A willingness to burn the old world down if it refused to change.

And Zaun, brutal, broken Zaun, had never demanded apologies for what it took to survive.

He pushed the door open and stepped into the shadows of the bar.

The Last Drop was silent, its usual din replaced by the soft creak of old wood and the distant hum of pipes buried deep beneath the city. A single lamp burned low behind the bar, casting flickering shadows across the empty room. Silco sat alone at the counter, a half-full glass of amber liquor resting by his fingers, untouched. His reflection, stretched and fractured across the polished metal, looked back at him like a ghost.

When the door opened, he didn’t turn. Only the soft click of a cane and the drag of labored footsteps signaled the arrival of his guest.

“I see punctuality remains a suggestion,” Silco said quietly.

“My apologies,” Viktor murmured, his voice thin from the cold. He stepped inside with deliberate care, coat still damp from the mist outside. “I had to avoid attention.”

Silco glanced at him, expression unreadable, and gestured with two fingers to the stool beside him. Viktor settled into it with a slow exhale, placing a rolled blueprint on the counter between them.

Silco eyed it but made no move to touch it.

“Well ?” he said.

Viktor hesitated. Not out of fear, he’d shed most of that years ago, but from the weight of what he was about to say.

“I’ve begun work on something... new. An extension of Hextech, but far beyond its current scope. Not merely prosthetics. Not mechanical assistance. This—” he tapped the blueprint with one long finger “—is about transcendence. Replacing what’s broken. Rewriting limitations. Reconstructing the body, the mind. Making something... more.”

A pause.

Silco took a measured sip of his drink, then set it down with quiet precision. “You speak of transmutation,” he said. “Of stripping away the human condition and replacing it with circuitry and calculation. Is that it ?”

Viktor’s gaze didn’t waver. “Not stripping. Refining. Improving.”

Silco let out a low hum, as if turning the word over in his mouth. “And what, exactly, do you plan to improve ? Pain ? Fear ? Love ?”

“Instinct,” Viktor said. “Emotion. Weakness disguised as virtue.”

Silco’s brow twitched upward. “Hm.”

The silence that followed was not uncomfortable, at least not for Silco. He let it stretch, observing Viktor with a careful eye. Finally, he asked, “Why me ?”

Viktor didn’t answer immediately. He looked down, fingers steepled, as though choosing his words with surgical precision.

“You’re a Zaunite. You understand what it means to live with failure built into your bones. You’ve watched brilliance corrode under poverty, under sickness. If anyone would see the value of my work, it’s you.”

Silco’s expression remained impassive. “A flattering answer. But not the truth.”

Viktor’s jaw tightened, and for a moment he looked older than he was. Not in years, but in wear. In burden.

“Piltover turned me down,” he said at last. “The Council—Jayce—they called it unethical. Dangerous. They’re afraid of what they can’t control. They see evolution and name it hubris.”

Now, Silco smiled, just slightly. “And so the prodigy returns to the Undercity. When the golden gates shut, you remember which side of the river you were born on.”

“I never forgot,” Viktor said quietly. “I just hoped they hadn’t either.”

Silco leaned forward, finally reaching for the blueprint. He unrolled it slowly, studying the sketches and notes, the delicate chaos of Viktor’s mind splayed out in ink. He didn’t pretend to grasp every technical detail. He didn’t need to. He understood what mattered.

“You’re not asking for money,” he said. “You’re asking for absolution.”

Viktor didn’t flinch. “I’m asking for a future. For those who were never given one.”

Silco exhaled through his nose, folded the blueprint, and set it back down.

“You’ll have your funding,” he said, voice cool. “And the freedom Piltover denied you. But understand this, Viktor. If you play god, you will be worshipped, until they realize your miracles demand sacrifice. And then they will burn you for it.”

Viktor met his gaze. “Let them. If it means someone walks after me without the chains I wore, I’ll burn gladly.”

Silco studied him for a long moment, then raised his glass in a silent toast.

“To fire, then.”

The path to the orphanage wasn’t long, but Jinx took her time. The cracked pavement under her boots echoed louder than usual, the distant hum of Zaunian machinery nothing but background noise as her thoughts spun.

She hated thinking too much. It always led her to places she didn’t want to go.

But ever since she left Ekko’s place yesterday, her brain hadn’t shut up.

It had been a joke. Just a little jab. Nothing serious.

"You're crushing on me."

She’d said it like she always did, smirking, teasing, baiting. But when he’d looked at her, cheeks blooming with color, eyes darting down like he’d been caught mid-thought, something about it hit her wrong. Or maybe right. She wasn’t sure.

Jinx kicked a loose bolt across the street, watching it clink against a wall before disappearing into a gutter. Her fingers twitched. Her heart gave a weird little stutter. Just remembering the look on his face made her chest feel tight. Not bad tight. Not bomb-going-off tight. Just… full.

The kind of full that made her uncomfortable.

She’d brushed it off at the time. But now, walking alone with no one to deflect to, she couldn’t stop wondering if maybe she hadn’t been. Not entirely.

What if he actually…?

No. No way. That wasn’t the kind of thing she let herself think about. That was dumb, reckless. More reckless than anything she did with a grenade.

“He’s not gonna wait around for you to figure it out, Powder.”

Mylo’s voice rose in the back of her head, bitter and snide. She could almost see him walking beside her, arms crossed, brow arched like he used to do when she got caught staring too long at someone.

“He’s too good for this. For you. You know that, right ?”

She gritted her teeth. “Shut up,” she muttered aloud, barely above a whisper.

The building came into view, a squat thing with peeling paint and rusted bars on the windows. The orphanage. Isha’s place.

She paused at the gate, inhaling through her nose.

This isn't about Ekko, she told herself. This is about Isha. About Viktor. About the case.

Then why was her heart still beating fast ?

She pressed her hand against her chest, frowning at how warm her face felt despite the chill in the air. The feeling wasn’t going away. The echo of his blush, his eyes, his silence, it clung to her like smoke.

Jinx rolled her shoulders back and stepped forward. No more thinking. Not now.

There were better things to focus on. Things she could actually control.

Like answers.

And whoever the hell sent that text.

Just as Jinx lifted her hand to knock on the orphanage’s rust-chipped door, the sharp sound of hurried footsteps broke through the quiet.

She turned, instinctively tense, until she saw him.

Ekko skidded to a stop at the bottom of the steps, a little out of breath, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. He looked like he’d sprinted across half of Zaun to get here. Maybe he had.

“I knew you’d be here,” he said, voice light but eyes steady on her, catching something in her expression she hadn’t meant to show. He was flashing her that grin, the one that was half smug, half challenge.

Jinx blinked, thrown for a second. Her heart, already unsteady from the walk over, did a strange flip in her chest. Why did he have to be so effortlessly beautiful ?

She raised an eyebrow. “Stalking me now ? I knew it. Knew you were obsessed.”

Ekko snorted, folding his arms as he reached her. “Please. You’re predictable. Thought I’d make sure you didn’t screw this up.”

She smirked. “Aw, worried about me ?”

“Worried about Isha,” he shot back, though there was the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth, like he was fighting off a smile.

Jinx narrowed her eyes, tilting her head. “You always this twitchy around people you’re not crushing on ?”

Ekko stiffened just slightly, barely a flicker, but she caught it. Her grin widened.

“That’s it, isn’t it ?” she drawled. “Yesterday wasn’t just awkward, it was real awkward. You do like me.”

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to,” she said, circling him a little like she was interrogating a suspect. “Red ears, looking away, mumbling like your brain short-circuited. Classic symptoms, really.”

Ekko gave her a flat look. “You overanalyze everything.”

“I’m a detective, genius,” she said, tapping her temple. “It’s literally my job.”

“Well, do your job somewhere else.” He looked away and muttered, “Not my fault you said it first.”

Jinx blinked. “Wait, what ?”

“You were the one who brought up the crush thing,” he said, louder now, brushing a hand through his locks. “I was just— reacting .”

Jinx blinked again, surprised he’d admit even that much.

She stepped a little closer, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “So if I hadn’t said anything, would you have kept pretending ?”

Ekko met her gaze then, steady, challenging. “Maybe.”

She scoffed, but it came out softer than intended.  And for the second time in twenty-four hours, she felt the same weird warmth bloom in her chest. The one that made her want to shove him and also never walk away.

Something in her chest twinged. The way he looked at her, direct and unflinching, it didn’t feel like a joke anymore. But instead of showing that, she smirked and nudged his shoulder with hers. “Lame. You should’ve just confessed properly. Flowers. A dramatic monologue. Maybe a song.”

“I’ll save the serenade for your funeral,” he muttered.

She snorted. “Aw. Romantic and violent. Just my type.”

For a second, something in him flickered, sharp, involuntary.

He fought to keep his face blank, casual, cocky even, but his body betrayed him : a slight stiffening of his shoulders, the twitch of a breath caught too fast.

It was nothing.

Just a dumb comment.

Just Jinx being Jinx.

He should’ve laughed it off, fired back with another smartass remark.

Instead, he stood there, pulse hammering louder than it had any business being.

Just my type.

Like she even meant it. Like it wasn’t another grenade lobbed between them just to watch him flinch.

Still, the words echoed in his head, reckless and sticky.

Too much for a crush he didn’t even want to admit he had.

Maybe, maybe, it would be better to just lean into it.

Flirt back. Play it off. Get it out of his system before it rooted itself any deeper.

Better to joke about it, burn it off fast, than let it sit there festering into something dangerous.

They were working together anyway. Bound to crash into each other a hundred more times before this was over.

It didn’t have to mean anything.

He clenched his jaw, steeling himself, hoping she didn’t notice the way his ears had gone slightly red.

"Knock on the damn door already," Ekko grumbled, turning toward it with a sharpness that wasn’t entirely necessary.

Jinx hesitated, glancing at him one more time before raising her fist.

Her heart thudded loud in her chest, but this time, it wasn’t just because of the investigation.

The lab was quiet, save for the soft hum of a burner heating a small pot. A steady hand measured out precise amounts of each ingredient, not a grain more or less than needed. Precision was everything.

Above, nestled between rusted metal and insulated piping, a small pair of wide eyes blinked in the shadows. Isha crouched low in the vent, barely daring to breathe. She had come looking for Viktor. He always let her sit nearby, sometimes gave her broken trinkets to fix or bits of copper wire to fidget with. But today, the lab had been empty.

At least… she had thought it was.

The sound of movement below had made her freeze. Curious, but cautious, she’d crawled through the narrow shaft and peered through the gaps. Her small fingers clutched the metal grating as she pressed her cheek to the cool surface, watching.

Below her, a figure moved with calm, deliberate purpose. Not Viktor. Someone else. Smaller. The light from the burner cast their features in partial shadow, but their posture was relaxed. Familiar, even.

They worked without hurry. A fine powder was sifted into a cup, Isha couldn’t see what it was, only that it was precise. She recognized the smell that drifted up to her hiding spot: chamomile and honey. Viktor’s favorite. A sleepy, warm kind of smell. Safe.

Except… something didn’t feel right.

The figure stirred slowly, methodically. This wasn’t like when Viktor brewed tea while muttering to himself about calculations. There was no fidgeting, no distracted humming. This was practiced. Too practiced.

She bit her lip. Her instincts, the ones that had kept her safe on the streets before the orphanage, told her to stay quiet. To watch.

The cup was poured with care. The tray arranged with ritualistic grace. The hand that set it down was steady. No tremor of guilt. No pause of doubt.

Isha didn’t understand everything happening, but even her young mind could tell, this wasn’t kindness. This wasn’t a gift. It was something else entirely.

A trap.

Her breath hitched when the figure spoke softly, words not meant for anyone but themselves.

“For the Future. For Piltover. For Zaun.”

It was a prayer. Or maybe a farewell.

Then silence.

Isha didn’t move. Couldn’t.

The cold of the metal pressed into her hands and knees, but she barely felt it. Something sharp and electric had locked up her body. Fear , confusion, a wrongness so big she couldn’t name it. Her breath caught behind her teeth. Her fingers, tiny and scraped, clung to the vent’s frame like it could protect her.

Then, the figure shifted. A step closer. The sound of careful, practiced movements. Low, steady rhythm, careful but deliberate, coming toward her hiding place. A wrong step, a glance in the right direction, and she would be seen.

If they found her, she didn’t know what would happen, only that it would be bad.

Isha’s heart slammed against her ribs, a panicked stuttering that drowned out every other sound. Instinct took over where words and understanding couldn’t, she scrambled back, too fast, her elbows burning against the rough metal. She didn’t think, didn’t plan. She just ran, deeper into the vents. 

The noise felt thunderous in the narrow shaft, but the figure didn’t seem to hear. She found a loose panel, just barely ajar, and slipped out of the vent, dropping onto the ground with a soft thud.

Outside, the air felt colder.

She shrank into the crook of a wall, curling herself into the darkness, heart pounding so loudly she thought it might give her away.

Through the thin veil of shadows, she could see the figure more clearly now.  Isha caught a glimpse, the edge of a face.

Not enough to know them.

But enough to know she would never forget.

The fear stayed heavy in her chest, squeezing tighter and tighter until it was all she could feel.

Her hands clamped over her mouth to smother any sound.

The figure didn’t look back. They moved and disappeared into the night like they had never been there at all. 

She pressed herself deeper into the darkness.

Time stretched. Minutes. Hours. Maybe forever. She didn't know anymore.

When she finally dared to crawl back toward the vents to get back into the lab, her body moved sluggishly, like something inside her already knew what her mind refused to understand.

She peered through the slats again.

The lab was empty.

Too empty.

The heavy smell of tea still hung in the air, sweet and wrong.

She thought, maybe Viktor hadn’t come back yet . Maybe she could still fix it, warn him, throw the cup away, anything.

She pushed the grate open and dropped down, landing with a soft thump that sent a sharp sting through her knees.

She didn’t cry.

She stood up, legs shaking.

She could fix this. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but certainly not too much, right ?

She took one step, then another, shoes whispering against the ground. Her eyes skipped across the familiar clutter, blueprints, screws, a half-built machine that Viktor had promised to show her once it was finished. Viktor’s projects always looked like magic to her. Gears and wires that moved like they had minds of their own.

She didn’t know what they were for. She didn’t know why he was always tired, or why his leg moved differently, or why people whispered about him like he was something more than just… Viktor.

To her, he was the man who let her sit near the warm lamp and handed her tiny copper scraps like treasure.

She rounded the workbench—

—and stopped dead.

Ah.

Viktor was there.

Not at his desk. Not sitting upright.

Folded awkwardly on the cold tile, as if he had simply crumpled in place.

His thin frame was twisted in a way that set off every alarm in her small body, alarms she didn’t have words for yet.

Only knowing : wrong. wrong. wrong.

Isha’s knees gave out and she dropped down beside him.

She reached out with both hands and touched his sleeve.

It was cold.

For a heartbeat, just one, she waited for him to stir. To sigh. To blink bleary eyes at her and grumble something in that tired voice she knew so well. To turn and smile.

But Viktor didn’t move.

She didn’t understand why he wasn’t waking up.

She didn’t understand why her chest hurt so much she couldn’t breathe.

But she knew, somewhere deep in the places that didn’t need words, that it was her fault.

She knew.

She knew.

Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.

Her chest ached like it was caving in from the inside.

If she had run faster.

If she had been braver.

If she hadn’t hidden.

If she had gotten to him before the tea—

The guilt bloomed inside her, huge and suffocating, a storm too big for her small body to hold.

Still, no scream tore free.

Just silence, tight and terrible, as she knelt beside the only person who had ever really seen her, and pressed her forehead against his sleeve.

And for the first time in her life, Isha wished she had words,— if only to say I’m sorry.

Tears blurred her vision, but she didn’t sob. She couldn’t. Her throat was too tight.

It was cold.

Isha didn’t move. Couldn’t. The metal beneath her felt cold, her limbs locked in place by something she didn’t yet have words for. 

Isha didn’t understand what he had built, or what he had meant to the people above.

She only knew he was gone. And that someone had taken him away. Quietly. Carefully.

And she hadn’t stopped them. Couldn’t, paralyzed by fear.

The silence broke.

Footsteps.

Not the same ones as before, these were heavier, quicker, the kind that didn’t try to hide. They echoed down the hallway with purpose, growing louder with every second.

Isha froze.

Her breath caught in her throat, and she looked toward the door. She didn’t know who it was, didn’t know if it was someone else coming to hurt Viktor, or someone who would ask questions she couldn’t answer.

Her hand slipped from the hem of his coat. She backed away.

The footsteps turned the corner.

Panic fluttered in her chest like a trapped bird.

She ran, small, silent, toward the far side of the room, to the vent tucked behind the storage crates. She’d crawled through it before, multiple times, when she was curious and bored and Viktor had been too busy to notice her sneaking around. It had felt like a game then.

Now, it didn’t.

She shoved the crate just enough to squeeze behind it, fingers scrambling for the loosened panel. Her nails scraped metal. The footsteps entered the lab.

A voice, low and confused: “Viktor…?”

Isha slipped inside just as the voice turned sharp.

“No—Viktor ?”

She didn’t look back.

She crawled fast, knees aching, breath shaking in her chest. The hallway lights through the vent slits flashed across her face as she moved, not stopping, not thinking. Only running.

Behind her, she heard a cry echo down the metal, something breaking, glass maybe, and a voice yelling Viktor’s name like it might pull him back.

But she didn’t stop.

She just kept crawling, deeper into the dark, away from the lab, away from the smell of tea and the quiet stillness that didn’t feel like sleep. Her palms were scraped. Her legs trembled. Her chest felt too full.

She didn’t understand what Viktor had built.

She only knew she couldn’t fix it.

And that someone else had just found out what she already knew, that Viktor, in a blink, was gone.