Arcane: Mage from Noxus

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Dark clouds shrouded the moonlight, casting Piltover into a deep, unsettling silence.

The city at night was still, save for the occasional flicker of lamplight guiding the magistrates' night patrols. Other than those faint beacons, the streets lay cloaked in darkness.

Suddenly, a brilliant flame erupted from a tower near Piltover Academy, scattering embers like a goddess tossing flowers into the wind—vivid, chaotic, and mesmerizing.

Boom!

A moment later, the deafening explosion followed, its fiery glow lighting up the night as successive waves of concussive force shattered the stillness. The aftermath of the blast rippled outward, even reaching the Noxian embassy.

Standing before an open window, Ryan's white mage robes fluttered in the gusts created by the shockwaves, the fabric rustling softly against the wind.

He stood there at the windowsill, calmly admiring the radiant chaos that painted the night sky. The firelight danced in his eyes, reflecting like fiery red lotus blossoms—beautiful and destructive.

The tower crumbled abruptly, sending a cascade of sparks onto the surrounding buildings. Debris from the explosion rained down, tearing apart the nearby streets in its wake.

Ryan let out a low chuckle.

"The first chapter of the night declares that no one will sleep tonight."

Katarina's expression was conflicted as she gazed at the unusually tall figure before her, her voice tinged with awe.

"You didn't lift a finger yet orchestrated the entire night's events. How did you know Stevan would betray Piltover?"

The figures prowling Piltover's coastline tonight were the concealed agents of the prominent Ferros family.

Ryan turned slightly, his tone measured and calm.

"Imagine this: a man stands before you who can force your father to kneel. Meanwhile, your father expects you to carry out something against your will. What would you do?"

Katarina thought for a moment before answering, her tone uncertain.

"I might submit... but I understand that some people would choose to betray their families."

"Why betray?" Ryan's lips curled into a faint smile.

"Stevan is content with everything the Ferros family has now. His greatest desire is to live out the rest of his life peacefully as its head, watching his children and grandchildren thrive in happiness."

Katarina tilted her head, puzzled.

"That sounds... warm. Is this what Councilor Camille believes as well?"

Ryan chuckled softly.

"Camille acts for the survival of both the family and Piltover. She's willing to compromise with Noxus if it means securing a future where the family can grow stronger."

"However, if a sacrifice doesn't yield strength or progress, Camille would not hesitate to turn her blade on her own kin who are content with mediocrity. She's a pragmatist through and through."

For a moment, Ryan's thoughts drifted to Swain. The parallels were striking.

He had met Swain during his early days in the Noxian army. Back then, Ryan relied on magic to carve out a place for himself, while Swain rose by exposing his own family's treason.

Initially, Ryan had looked down on Swain, dismissing him as a man who betrayed his bloodline.

But over time, he came to admire Swain's unyielding rationality. Though not exceptionally powerful, Swain's strategy and intellect were unparalleled.

Most importantly, Swain's loyalty to the empire was absolute. He was willing to sacrifice anything—himself included—if it would make Noxus stronger. In this regard, Camille's resolve paled in comparison to Swain's.

Katarina's voice broke his reverie.

"And what about the other pair? You seem even more intrigued by them."

Hearing the commotion outside, Katarina glanced down to see two hooded figures slipping through the streets below. She raised an eyebrow, waiting for Ryan to elaborate.

Ryan's voice softened as he spoke.

"I've mentioned before how Zaun's people cling to their fragile hopes." He paused briefly before continuing.

"Jinx once had another name: Powder. The two names reflect the duality of her personality. In Vi's heart, whether she calls her sister Powder or Jinx doesn't matter—it's all the same. What Vi desperately seeks is a way to mend their bond."

He exhaled slowly, his expression unreadable.

"From Powder's perspective, Vi is the sister whose approval she longs for—a guiding light she can no longer grasp. But Jinx… Jinx was born the night Vander died. Powder wanted to save Vander but accidentally caused his death along with her companions. Vi's anger and accusations that Powder was a 'jinx' created the fractured, chaotic persona she has now."

He glanced down at the street, his tone growing heavier.

"Jinx should have been nothing but a lunatic, driven by vengeance against her sister. But Silco's influence—his care—shaped her into something more complicated. She's a living contradiction, torn between madness and the longing for family."

Katarina's gaze lingered on the hooded figures below. The tension in the city mirrored the fragile balance of hope, betrayal, and chaos swirling through the night.

For some reason, Katarina could hear a trace of regret in Ryan's words.

After a moment of thought, she gave her evaluation:

"A Zaunian tragedy."

Ryan silently agreed, though his mind wandered to his recent conversation with Silco.

The Zaunite leader's cryptic request still lingered in his thoughts.

As Jinx disappeared into the night, Ryan's gaze lingered on her retreating figure, as if weighing in his heart whether she was worth any further action.

The tower had been ravaged by the rocket's wrath. The explosion's echoes turned Piltover into a hub of chaos, and even Zaun's depths could feel the reverberations.

On a shadowed street, Camille suddenly halted, her sharp gaze turning toward the direction of Piltover. Her lips pressed into a thin line as her frown deepened.

"What's wrong?" Vi asked, her tone curious.

Camille hesitated before responding, her voice cold and distant:

"Someone has sacrificed for Piltover's future."

Without another word, Camille resumed her stride, her mechanical legs clicking against the cobblestones.

Caitlyn's expression darkened as she grabbed Camille's arm—one of the few remaining physical parts of the augmented enforcer. Her voice was sharp and demanding.

"The explosion… something happened in Piltover, didn't it? What do you mean by 'sacrifice'?"

Camille didn't flinch, her face as impassive as ever.

"This is war, Kiramman. We kill the bandits; they capture the king."

Caitlyn's voice grew colder, her ideals of justice clashing with Camille's pragmatic approach.

"Who was sacrificed?"

Camille's tone remained void of emotion:

"Perhaps your mother. Perhaps my younger brother. Perhaps even Heimerdinger. Someone important, at the very least."

Caitlyn's jaw tightened. Her fiery sense of justice rebelled against Camille's detachment.

"How can you say that so casually? No, I need to go back and protect them!"

She spun around, ready to head back toward Piltover, but Jayce's hand caught her shoulder. He shook his head firmly, his expression conflicted.

"Why?" Caitlyn demanded, her eyes flashing with disbelief.

Jayce hesitated, his face heavy with guilt and anguish. Still, his words came with measured determination:

"Because she's right. If we go back now, their sacrifice will have been for nothing."

The weight of his words pressed down on Caitlyn. Her lips parted slightly as she looked at him, a storm of emotion raging behind her piercing eyes.

Vi stepped forward, throwing an arm around Caitlyn's shoulders in an almost sisterly gesture.

"Listen, Cupcake. Piltover's got enough enforcers right now. One more of you won't make much difference. But if we're going after Silco, we can't do it without you."

Caitlyn lowered her head, clenching her fists in silence. After a long, tense pause, she exhaled deeply and nodded.

"You're right. I let my emotions get the better of me. Let's move quickly."

Camille's gaze remained fixed on the path ahead, her tone sharp and final.

"Kiramman, remember: justice should never become your weakness."

Without waiting for a response, Camille unleashed her grappling hook, the cable whistling through the air as she propelled herself forward.

Her movements were fluid and precise, like a blade cutting through the night.

Just as Camille left the spot she had been standing on, a searing orange laser streaked through the air, scorching the ground and leaving a deep, jagged mark in its wake.

"Welcome to Zaun," a gruff voice called out mockingly from the shadows, followed by the sound of distant, hollow cheers.