The city stretched before them, the lights of Zaun flickering like dying embers beneath the dark sky. The sounds of the party had faded into a distant hum, leaving only the soft patter of rain against metal and the occasional distant shout from the streets below.
Bael sat on the edge of the rooftop, one leg dangling over the side, the other bent at the knee. Powder leaned against him, wrapped in his warmth, her head resting on his shoulder. Isha sat cross-legged nearby, quietly sipping the juice Silco had given her, eyes darting between them.
For a while, they just listened to the rain.
Then Powder broke the silence.
"That was the best night of my life." Her voice was soft, but full of conviction.
Bael chuckled. "Even better than the time we stole that Piltie's carriage and rode it straight off the bridge?"
She nudged him hard. "Way better, dumbass."
Bael smirked, tilting his head back. "You were amazing back there, by the way. You owned that dance floor."
"Pffft." She waved him off, but the way her cheeks darkened betrayed her pride. "You're the one who did all that fancy footwork. I just stood there looking hot."
Bael turned to her, smirking. "You always look hot."
Powder rolled her eyes but pulled him closer anyway.
Then, after a moment, she sighed, her voice dropping to something quieter. "I… I don't want this to end."
Bael frowned. "What do you mean?"
Powder hesitated, staring out into the distance. "This… life. You, me, everyone together. It feels too perfect, like it's some dream I'm gonna wake up from." She bit her lip. "I never had this before. A future. A home. I don't wanna lose it."
Bael's hand found hers, fingers intertwining. "Then we won't."
She turned to look at him, uncertain.
He squeezed her hand. "We'll fight for this. Whatever it takes."
Powder searched his face, then slowly smiled. "Yeah… we will."
Isha, who had been silent this whole time, finally spoke up in her soft, tiny voice. "Me too."
They both turned to her, surprised.
Powder grinned, ruffling Isha's hair. "Fuck! Those are some tuff first words haha!"
Isha blinked, then—so subtly it was almost unnoticeable—she smiled.
Bael exhaled, leaning back against the metal. "Yeah…"
Powder sighed against Bael's lips, her hands resting on his chest, savoring the moment. The city lights flickered in the distance, and the music from the Last Drop hummed below them. It was perfect.
Isha sat beside them, watching with a tiny, knowing smile. She didn't say anything—she never did—but her presence was warm, grounding. Like she belonged there.
Powder pulled away slightly, pressing her forehead to Bael's. "You're mine forever, Bael. No matter what."
Bael's heart clenched. He wanted to say it back. Wanted to promise her eternity. But his fingers curled against the cold rooftop, his gaze slipping past her, past the neon glow of Zaun—back to a world that wasn't his.
A world where Powder had already been lost to Jinx.
He swallowed hard, barely whispering under his breath...
"I'm sorry, Powder… But I've got a Jinx to return to…"
It was so quiet, just a whisper in the night, meant for no one but himself.
Powder didn't hear it. But Isha did.
She didn't react, didn't question. She just watched him, eyes steady, as if she understood something he couldn't explain...
...
Bael stood in the lab, sleeves rolled up, hands smudged with grease and residue from the latest experiment. The lab smelled of burnt metal and ozone, the faint hum of machinery filling the air.
Across the table, Viktor tapped his cane against the floor rhythmically as he adjusted a set of delicate instruments. Jayce stood nearby, arms crossed, studying the Hextech energy converter with narrowed eyes.
"This thing needs more stability," Jayce muttered, frustration evident in his voice. "If we don't regulate the energy output properly, we might blow a hole through half the building."
Bael smirked, leaning against the workbench. "I dunno, Jayce, sounds like a feature, not a bug."
Viktor snorted softly, shaking his head as he worked. "Perhaps in Zaun, that would be considered an improvement."
Bael chuckled but turned serious as he examined the converter. It was a beautiful piece of tech—elegant, efficient, dangerous. The Hexcrystals within pulsed with raw energy, barely contained by the intricate framework they had designed.
He reached for a wrench and made some careful adjustments, tightening a component that was slightly off. "We need to refine the resonance frequencies. The converter is processing the energy too erratically. If we smooth out the oscillations, we can stabilize the output without reducing power."
Jayce and Viktor exchanged a glance.
"…That's actually not a bad idea," Jayce admitted.
Bael gave him a cocky grin. "I know. That's why I said it."
Viktor shook his head with a small smile. "Then let's get to work."
And with that, the three of them dove back in, minds and hands working in sync, pushing Hextech into new, uncharted territory.
Jayce leaned against the workbench, arms crossed, staring at the schematics with a thoughtful expression. "This is gonna require something… special," he muttered.
Bael raised an eyebrow. "Special how?"
Jayce exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Runes. The Hextech energy converter is too unstable with just mechanical adjustments. We need rune inscriptions to regulate the energy flow and prevent it from overloading."
Bael's fingers tapped against the table. Runes. The very thing that made Hextech what it was. If he could understand them—really understand them—he might be able to do more than just stabilize some converter.
He might be able to escape.
More than that… if he grasped the principles of runic engineering, he could elevate his own work. Pow-Pow Eta was strong, but if he could integrate runic sequences into its design… it could become something far beyond.
Pow-Pow Omega.
He had no idea what it would look like yet, but the thought alone sent a thrill through him. He glanced at Jayce, feigning casual curiosity. "So, how do we go about learning rune inscriptions?"
Jayce smirked. "That's the tricky part. Only a handful of people in Piltover actually understand them, and most of them aren't exactly keen on sharing their secrets."
Viktor, still bent over the converter, chimed in without looking up. "There are texts. Old ones. But they are not easy to acquire… or decipher."
Bael nodded slowly, mind racing. If it exists, I can get my hands on it.
"Alright," he said, cracking his knuckles. "Guess it's time I learned some magic tricks."
And then it started.
Bael threw himself into the study of runes with a hunger he hadn't felt before. Piltover's knowledge of rune inscriptions was fragmented—scattered between ancient tomes, secret guild records, and the minds of scholars too paranoid to share what they knew.
But that didn't stop him.
Jayce and Viktor provided what they could: old notes, half-finished blueprints, even scraps of research Heimerdinger had deemed too unstable. Bael devoured them, his mind burning with possibilities. Runes weren't just symbols. They were language. They were power.
And the more he learned, the more he saw the potential.
Late nights turned into dawns spent poring over diagrams, redrawing sequences by hand, testing minor inscriptions on small metal plates. Sparks of Hextech energy danced across his fingertips, unstable at first, then controlled, then manipulated.
Then came the real breakthrough.
Bael carved his first functional rune into a brass plate, channeling energy through it. The result? A controlled explosion, directed, efficient—his Boom-Boom tattoos, but refined, sharpened.
That was the moment he knew.
If he could inscribe Pow-Pow Eta with runic sequences—if he could push its limits beyond raw mechanical force—he could create Pow-Pow Omega. A weapon that wouldn't just fire. It would shape destruction itself.
But...
But Bael wasn't the only one paying attention.
Viktor, ever observant, noticed the shift in his focus. The way Bael's hands lingered over the runes. The way his notes deviated from the project at hand, branching into something far more complex.
"You are... very ambitious," Viktor said one evening, leaning on his cane as he watched Bael trace a sigil onto a metal surface. "But ambition can be dangerous if not controlled."
Bael glanced at him, smirking. "That's what makes it exciting, doesn't it?"
Jayce, meanwhile, was more direct. "Bael, you're obsessed with these runes. We need you on the energy converter, not... whatever this side project is."
Bael waved him off, but inside, a storm brewed. He needed to be careful. If they found out he was trying to escape this world, trying to get back to his Jinx, things could turn bad fast.
Still, he wasn't stopping.
Late at night, when the lab was empty, Bael worked in secret. Testing. Experimenting. Learning.
Bael stared at the completed sigil, his heart pounding. He did it.
Not Hextech. Not some stolen knowledge from Piltover's finest. Something completely his own.
Boom-Boom Runes.
He had refined the concept of his boom-boom tattoos, removing the need for physical contact. Now, all he had to do was place a single rune on himself… and wherever he looked, it would explode.
Silent. Instantaneous. Lethal.
Bael flexed his fingers, feeling the subtle hum of energy from the rune etched onto his wrist. He turned his gaze toward a discarded metal plate on the workbench.
BOOM.
A controlled detonation, precise and devastating, left a blackened hole in the center of the plate.
Bael exhaled slowly, his hands trembling—not from fear, but from exhilaration.
This… this was power.
This was how he'd break free.
Bael's fingers moved with practiced precision, tracing intricate runes across his arm, each symbol burning into his skin like a brand. These weren't ordinary tattoos—they were conduits, channels for the raw power that surged beneath his flesh. The energy didn't come from a machine or Hextech device; it came from him, his will, his soul. The more runes, the greater the power—just like the boom-boom tattoos, but these were different. These required much more energy, far more precision, and when unleashed, they carried a destructive force that could level worlds.
He finished drawing the final rune, the last stroke sending a jolt of power up his arm, making his muscles tense. It was time.
Bael turned toward the window, a cold smile curling on his lips. He focused, feeling the energy surge, the runes thrumming in time with his heartbeat. There was no preparation, no need for a device. Just a thought—and then—
BOOM.
The explosion ripped through the sky, an intense burst of light and force that seemed to warp the air around it. The shockwave shattered the stillness, the tremors echoing through the building, leaving a brilliant flash hanging in the air.
Bael exhaled, his heart pounding with satisfaction, his arm searing with the aftereffects. The power of the runes was unstoppable—and now, he was its master.