'Well fuck.'
Surrounded by sadistic madmen, grinning with missing teeth and tattooed skin, it wasn't the safest place in the world. Less so when standing in front of the Kiramman manor.
"Little man, stand here." One grunted, leaning in with breath fouler than sewage backing up. He pointed up and down the pitch-black streets. "Watch."
"Watching, watched, watching," Orion mocked, voice low. To his surprise, the big man actually smiled and nodded.
"Good little man! We work." Without another word he turned and sprinted toward the entrance.
When Orion glanced at the Kiramman double doors, he froze. One thug's arm twisted and transformed, glowing a sickly green as his augmented hand shifted into a jagged needle. With a maniacal grin and the hiss of steam venting from his shoulder, he pressed it against the lock.
Sharp pings and faint clicks echoed until finally a click. The crew stormed the interior. A chorus of faint screams and one panicked shout carried through the door, then everything went quiet.
'Shit. I could cause a ruckus now, get them all arrested… but there's no guarantee C and Silco get caught afterwards.'
One by one they emerged, sacks of ransacked goods clinking against their backs. Blood smeared their collars, little streaks to mark their success.
"No Enforcers?"
"None."
"Let's go," the big man whispered loudly.
Orion's eyes widened. Two figures slumped over shoulders, sacks tied over their heads, wrists bound tight. Fine silks and expensive fabric muddied by grime. The Kiramman crest glinted faintly on the cuff of one sleeve.
Too pristine, too recognizable. Even gagged and limp, their status screamed louder than any expensive decoration in the stolen haul.
"We're kidnapping the Kirammans?!" Orion whispered frantically, identifying them as the parents.
"Shush," one thug hissed. "We get caught if you're not quiet."
Heavy bags of stolen trinkets clinked ironically as they crossed the cobbled street toward an open manhole cover. The pipe network below would lead them back to the bridge.
'Do I—? No. Let them. Enforcers will be up in arms. But… Silco never pulled something like this before the first Act of Arcane. What the hell is happening?'
One of the bigger men casually dropped an unconscious Kiramman down the hole with a thud.
'Am I changing the story or has it already been changed and I'm just in an alternate universe?! Shit…'
Hiding his panic, Orion turned his face into a mask, expressionless as he dropped down into the sewage after them. The last thug slid the manhole cover shut above, sealing them in the stench of waste, metal, and blood.
-----------------------
//Morning//
North of Piltover lay the Frosttip Mountain, smaller in size before the Great Barrier mountain range just beyond. Vastly uncharted and untamed, this natural barrier separated Piltover from the great powers of Noxus, which claimed dominance over the Great Barrier.
Every year, honorary students from minor colleges and the Piltover Academy attend a retreat at the Frosttip Mountain. Jayce and Caitlyn had just returned from the hiking expedition, having split off before first light to arrive home early.
Jayce babbled on about an important breakthrough he was about to make, and Caitlyn was eager to freshen up for training with Greyson. She had a skip in her step after escaping from Jayce's ramblings about his "soon-to-be-recognized achievements."
Caitlyn shifted her bag as she turned the corner, her steps slowing to a halt. Her expression shifted from concern to dread. The Kiramman manor had multiple Enforcers standing outside with Greyson, at the center, looking grim.
One of the Enforcers clearly whispered to Greyson who tilted her head and turned expectantly toward Caitlyn's approach.
"Caitlyn..." Sheriff Greyson began comfortingly.
"What is going on," Caitlyn demanded, her voice on edge.
Greyson paused, her mouth hanging slightly with hesitation. "Tell me!" Caitlyn demanded, taking a step closer.
"Your parents were kidnapped," Greyson stated. "And your house robbed. The servants were found tied up in storage."
Caitlyn froze, her eyes widening in disbelief.
"What?" she echoed, her voice trembling and chest heaving as tears began to form.
Greyson's expression darkened, but she continued.
"The criminals hid their faces but traces of Chemtech were found. We can reasonably assume they originated from the Undercity."
Beyond the gates, Caitlyn could see the servants comforting each other. Some were bruised and injured; others were crying. Her fists clenched, and she asked with an undertone of anger and accusation, "So why aren't you there then?"
Greyson met her gaze and replied sympathetically but firmly.
"Procedures must be followed. Enforcers are locking down the Undercity as we speak. After we finalize testimonies here, we'll organize search and rescue parties."
"That'll take too long!"
Caitlyn shouted in outrage, her voice cracking with emotion.
"Search parties should already be out! My parents are Council Members!"
"The Undercity is dangerous, Caitlyn," Greyson replied firmly and sympathetically. "Sending unprepared and ill-informed Enforcers into the Undercity's depths is only asking for trouble."
Their conversation was interrupted as an Enforcer sprinted up, breathless.
"Sheriff!" He saluted sharply while breathing heavily. "We've received a tip from the bridge! Two topsiders were spotted being smuggled into the Cultivar located in the Entresol district!"
Caitlyn's eyes widened with hope, but Greyson frowned skeptically. "Who was the citizen?"
"An Undercity resident. He's being questioned but... well, he's difficult to understand," the Enforcer reported, his tone brisk while he continued to catch his breath. "He claims to have been drinking all night and saw two individuals in fancy clothing with sacks over their heads being carried by heavyset individuals into the Cultivar."
"Awfully convenient," Greyson continued skeptically. "But it is the only lead we have."
"Let me come. I can help!" Caitlyn stepped forward, her voice trembling with angry emotion.
Greyson shook her head but Caitlyn pressed.
"They're my parents! You've trained me and know I'm a good shot!"
"I can't risk it," Greyson responded, eyes sorrowful but her tone remaining resolute. "You may be the last survivor of the Kirammans and as the Sheriff, I won't risk your safety- no matter how good a shot you are."
"What was the point of all that training then?" Caitlyn cried, her voice broken as tears streamed down her face. "Why go through all the effort if I can't protect my family? If my parents died like this, do you honestly think I would care for the Council?!"
Upon Caitlyn's last words, Greyson stiffened. Her face contorted and Caitlyn caught the shift. Caitlyn paused, tears still on her cheeks as she felt a realization.
"That's what you care about, isn't it?" Caitlyn choked, her voice shaking with accusation.
Greyson responded by taking a step forward, her tone agitated by the accusation.
"It's very much the opposite. Cassandra is one of the few in Piltover who truly supported the Undercity- who has kept hostilities from spiraling out of control."
"You've put me in a difficult spot Caitlyn," Greyson confessed, her voice growing weary. "Without a Kiramman, the fragile peace we've fought for will crumble."
After a moment of hesitation, she finishes firmly and meets Caitlyn's gaze. "I will go down there personally. You may accompany me, but you will not participate."
---------------------------
///Cultivar///
The Cultivar was much like Count Mei's Menagerie and the Factorywood location he had visited; filled with flora in a large botanical garden. Many Undercity residents visited it to breathe fresh air. Such a thing was the rarest and most desirable.
Eerily, however, there were no crowds or wandering people as there should be at the break of dawn.
Two large men from Factorywood stood guarding the entrance. They nodded at them and fist-bumped the big thug when they entered.
They were tense, almost as if they were anticipating something dangerous. Adjusting his jacket, he shifted his gun, sweat dripping from his forehead. It mingled with the sewage stink still clinging to him and for a moment he almost gagged.
For a few brief moments, they were in a long and dark hallway before it opened up into the garden.
Just like Factorywood, the clean air and nature's pleasant aroma deceptively masked the dangerous aura of the Undercity, as well as the scene before him. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the faint drip of condensation along the glass roof. The perfume of blooming flowers hung in the air, but beneath it Orion caught the sour bite of chem-brewed fertilizer, a reminder that even beauty here was artificial.
Scattered across the botanical garden, however, including two more by the entrance, were over a dozen gangsters and thugs. These weren't like the kind found in alleys, however. These were more professional with augmentations powered by Chemtech, Chemtech weapons, and an undeniable battle-hardened grit. The glass ceiling above refracted the light in shifting colors that caught on the barrels of rifles and the sharpened glint of prosthetic claws.
Orion paused as their gazes landed upon him, the room in a tense silence. His jaw tightened.
'We're ransoming Kirammans...'
Clap. Clap. Clap.
"Welcome, Orion."
Orion fully expected Silco to make an appearance after such a theatrical clapping introduction, but his breath hitched in surprise upon recognizing C's serpent-like voice instead.
'She really did meet us here.'
His gaze shifted further back, beyond the thugs, to see C standing with a triumphant smirk as the thugs tied the Kirammans' to chairs.
Their clothes were dirtied and smudged, but Orion could still make out the distinct separations of royal blue and gold. Orion's stomach sank as he realized he was in an extremely dangerous situation.
C's triumphant smirk shifted to one of slyness, her eyes dancing with dangerous cunning as her fingers played with the cloth of one of the sacks.
"Well done," she hummed.
"All that is left is to make Piltover bend the knee."