Last Drop.
The neon light of the sign buzzed overhead as I stepped inside the bar. The place smelled of liquor and smoke.
…I gulped my beer, the bitter liquid burning my throat.
The tavern was surprisingly quiet. Just empty tables and a few quiet drunks.
"One year, huh? I'm so fucked."
Arcane events are important.
All because of one specific event, one that could change everything:
Timebomb.
Specifically, the parallel world.
Why?
Imagine having access to multiple celestial powers, power scaling to oblivion in order to reach the absolute top. Try to stop that, you fucking void scum.
That's the point of Arcane to me.
But time is an issue.
I don't know how to do that with celestial magic yet.
Being just a year away really fucked me in the butthole very hard and dry. I took six years to learn about basic stuff, with masters, in a culture that basically worships it. So just imagine celestial.
'Just how could I learn that in just one year?'
Another heavy gulp.
'I thought I had more time. Only one year from the show, plus the six months between seasons...'
"Ah… Am I really gonna die being this useless."
Gulp. Gulp.
I chugged the rest of the mug, slamming it down—thud.
"Fuck. The beer doesn't do shit."
I should be breaking my brains trying to figure out how this skill copy mechanic works. Instead, I'm sitting here wasting precious time.
I pushed myself up from the table. Gave the room one last check to see if Silco or Jinx were around, which they weren't.
So I shoved past a couple of drunkards and left.
.
Benzo's shop.
A faded red wall. A circular window. A hanging wooden plank with Benzo written across it.
"..."
I pushed the door open.
Abandoned. Dusty.
After Benzo's passing, the place was closed down. Now only chem-fog and spiderwebs remained.
'The items were moved. I suspect by Ekko himself.'
.
I walked through Zaun for the rest of the day.
I saw the exact alleyway where the young Violet and her crew fought Deckard and the other kids.
Then followed the rusted hallways down to the drop where Powder had thrown the stolen goods into the water.
'There's no bag inside there.'
I stood there staring for a while.
.
Afterward, I found a higher ledge away from the grime to sit and have a meal.
I was trying to take some time off and look at this mess through a different angle. At least, that was my justification.
Once night came, I wandered through the shadowed streets. A sudden purple glow at the side of my view caught my attention.
Windows. Velvet curtains. A warm, red ambiance.
A brothel.
The same one from the show. The sweet smell of incense reached me even from out on the cobblestones.
I stepped inside before I even notice what I was doing.
Walked through the half-lit halls, moving past rooms that were already reserved.
At some point I stopped, and a mature voice spoke to me.
"Looking for a place to relax?"
She was sitting behind a counter, sporting deep red hair and pointed ears, smoking from a pipe.
An older-looking fairy.
"I'm actually... looking for some guidance."
'I remember her. She's called Babette, I believe.'
She took a slow drag from her pipe, blowing a ring of scented smoke toward the ceiling.
"Guidance," she repeated. "Most who come through those doors are just looking to forget. But you..." Her eyes focused, "You look like you're running out of time."
"I am," I admitted, my gaze sharpening. "The problem is... It's about helplessness."
Babette let out a soft chuckle.
"I understand." Tapping the ash from her pipe, she then leaned forward over the counter. "You know, the answer usually depends on the person." The ambient red light caught the sharp wisdom in her eyes.
"Is that so," I murmured.
She nodded, leaning back again.
"Take a fighter as an example, usually, they are the ones who has to deal with that the most."
The tension on my face dropped.
"A fighter?"
"Mm," Babette nodded again, taking another puff. "A fighter is cornered all the time, having no choice but to adapt and do whatever it takes to survive."
She blew another wave of smoke.
"If you're feeling that way, try finding someone who doesn't back down in the face of despair."
"..."
I was speechless.
"That reminds me of someone." I said, letting out a low smile, "Thank you, Babette. That was really helpful."
I swiped my hand to the side,
"Now for the payment."
"Oh, don't worry baby," She took another puff, then suddenly, "—Cough-Cough!"
She choked the moment my fingers sank and disappeared into the empty air, bending space itself like rubber.
When I pulled my hand out, a wavy red and gold smoke pipe rested in my palm.
"Take it," I said, placing it onto the table. "I won't accept refusal."
Leaving her with wide eyes and an agape mouth, I turned and left. She stood there, watching as I disappeared through the halls, the shocked of what happened not leaving her face.
"A wizard..." she whispered. "And... I don't remember saying my name."
.