~Ventilation Shaft~
The sound of metal reverberating echoed as Jinx's boot slammed into the central shaft, vibrating and fading into the distance before she'd hit it again. Each time she did, she hoped it would shake something into place in her head.
"Stupid…" she muttered, dragging a hand through her hair before letting it fall uselessly at her side. Her fingers twitched like they didn't know where to go next, and that only seemed to irritate her more.
"He lied. Of course he lied. Everyone lies. That's how it works, right? That's normal."
Her distorted voice bounced back at her from the metal walls.
"Shut up," she snapped, spinning and firing a shot into a dangling Mylo puppet hanging from a thin piece of string. "I didn't ask for your opinion!"
Her shoulders dropped slightly and a shaky breath slipped past her lips.
"…Vi."
She wiped at her face roughly, smearing grease and tears together without really caring which was which. "No," she said quickly, shaking her head as if that alone could undo what she'd heard. "No, no, no. He's messing with me. He has to be. Sevika told him, or he overheard something, or..."
Her pacing picked up again, boots scraping against metal as her thoughts spiraled faster.
"But he knew her prison number…"
"Five-one-six."
She repeated it under her breath, quieter this time, as if testing if it was real.
"He knew," she whispered. "He knew!"
The words snapped and the next second she grabbed the nearest box of tools and hurled it across the room. It broke open on impact and the tools scattered noisily outward, echoing and pinging off the metal flooring.
"HE KNEW!"
Her chest rose and fell rapidly, breaths coming in uneven bursts as she stared at the wreckage. From an outside perspective, it looked like she might continue any second but instead she froze. Her expression tightened and twisted between betrayal and anger.
"You lied to me…" she said again, her words trembling. "You..."
She cut herself off, her lips pressing together as her head tilted slightly. Her fingers went up in mocking air quotes.
"There wasn't a good time," she muttered, her voice shifting into a rough imitation of Atlas before cracking halfway through. "Yeah. Sure. That's real convenient."
Her shoulders sagged before her gaze drifted toward the workbench where a small box sat, half buried underneath tools and scraps. The turmoil of emotions across her face vanished into a blank stare and she walked toward it, flipped open the lid, and stared.
Inside, rows of small mechanical Firelights rested in neat clusters, their faint green glow pulsing softly in the dim light. One flickered as she reached in and picked it up, holding it between her fingers.
"You left me," she murmured, her thumb brushing over its thin metal wings.
"You said you wouldn't," she added, her voice thinning as a memory slipped in whether she wanted it or not. "You were supposed to stay when Vander left us."
The Firelight buzzed faintly in her hand.
"I was left behind..."
A tear slipped down her cheek and landed on the device, catching briefly on the metal wings before sliding off. She stared at it a moment longer then let out a short, broken laugh.
"He didn't leave," she said suddenly, her eyes widening a fraction as the thought forced its way through. "He knew but he didn't leave!"
Her breathing quickened again, but this time like something was starting to click into place.
"He was right there and he didn't tell me," she continued, the words coming faster now. "He just stood there. He smiled and talked and sold his stupid sweets like everything was A-OK!"
Her fingers curled tighter around the Firelight.
"He didn't run. He didn't leave. He..."
She stopped, her expression tightening again as the contradiction hit.
"He lied."
A pause.
"He stayed."
Her jaw clenched.
"He lied."
"He stayed."
The Firelight buzzed weakly under the pressure of her grip before she suddenly tossed it into the abyss below where it exploded with a sharp pop of green light.
"…Stupid," she muttered. "They're all stupid."
"…Five-one-six."
She repeated it again, slower this time as her mind worked through the information piece by piece.
"Mail…" she said under her breath, her head slowly tilting back toward the box. A slow, uneven smile began to form. "Mail gets through."
"Oh," she breathed, the idea taking shape as she straightened slightly.
"Oh, that's good…"
------
~Firelight Hideout - Sanctuary~
"Damn that hurts," Scar growled, lightly swinging his arms. Kay, standing nearby, slapped his arm. "Stop that. You'll break open the wound."
"Hmph."
Meanwhile, Ray wheezed after shattering the yellow crystals restricting his movements for over the dozenth time today.
"Five minutes," Ekko noted, clicking his stopwatch. "That's how long we have before they break out."
"It's perfect, isn't it?" Kay called out. "Good at immobilizing when there are too many or a quick in and out operation!"
"Yeah!" Ekko answered, tossing an orb glowing yellow in his palm. "It's really something! How many can you make?"
"Production isn't quite there yet," she said with a helpless shrug. "It will take a few months but for now... a handful a month?"
Ekko nodded, walking over to the rails where his gear was set and picking up a ledger one of their guys stole.
~Piltover Docks Shipment - Signed, Silco~
He flipped it open, eyes scanning quickly.
"Good enough. Thanks Kay."
"Silco's got something big coming through the docks," he said as Scar approached, glancing down at the signature again. "We're not letting it happen."
"When?"
"On Progress Day."
------
~Alleyway~
Slightly stumbling when his feet hit the ground, Atlas looked back up at the makeshift home. While limited, exposed to the wind, and lacking any filter for the toxic smog, he begrudgingly admitted it worked well enough. For now, unless he found someplace better, it was his new home.
His back was sore, his arms and legs felt like spaghetti, but he was alive and in good enough condition to move again.
Now I need to solve my money situation before it starts getting too low...
His gaze wandered across the Sump level, full of beggars and people dressed in rags. It was a place where nothing he had would sell not because people wouldn't want it, but because they simply couldn't afford it. Even simple goods were too expensive and most would try to barter for it in scraps. And those scraps wouldn't sell for much, if at all, on any other level.
I don't know when Jinx will be back. If she'll be back.
Atlas exhaled slowly, scratching his chin as he looked into his satchel.
What to do...