"Big brother?"
Duke sat in a wheelchair on the rooftop of a crumbling building, overlooking the chaotic sprawl of Zaun. The city's bustling streets teemed with life below, though the air carried a metallic tang of smoke and oil. He glanced down at the little girl beside him, her small hand gripping his tightly.
"What is it, Powder?" he asked gently.
"Do you think Zaun will... change? Like, really change?" Powder's wide, hopeful eyes searched his face for answers.
Duke didn't reply immediately. His gaze shifted back to the cityscape, his expression distant. It had been years since he found himself in this world—not exactly Arcane, but the larger realm of Runeterra. Duke was an eighteen-year-old, now confined to this wheelchair. He'd lost the use of his legs while trying to save the two girls who meant everything to him.
Powder and Violet weren't his sisters by blood, but they might as well have been. They had grown up together, surviving one day at a time in Zaun's unforgiving streets. As the eldest, Duke had taken on the role of protector, their "big brother," despite the weight it placed on his shoulders.
"I don't know..." Duke said, at last, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He had watched Arcane, after all, and knew what the future held for Zaun—calamities that would reshape the city, bringing unity at a terrible cost. But the full extent of Zaun's transformation? That, even Arcane hadn't shown.
Once, Duke had dreamed of being the one to lead that change—a savior for Zaun, a beacon of hope in its darkness. He had ideas, plans, and knowledge from his past life. But those dreams had crumbled the moment his body failed him.
"It's just... I think it can. You know?" Powder's voice pulled him from his thoughts. "Maybe, if we fix the right things. Or—or make new things!"
He turned to her, taking in the determination shining in her eyes.
'Maybe I can change Zaun after all,' he thought. 'Not with my own hands, but by guiding its people—Powder, Violet, Vander... even Silco. These are the ones who could shape Zaun's future.'
Before he could respond, a harsh cough wracked his body. He quickly covered his mouth, fighting to steady himself.
"Big brother, are you okay?" Powder asked, her brows knitting with worry.
He forced a smile, shaking his head. "I'm fine, Powder. Just a little tired."
Her frown deepened, her lips pulling into a pout. "You always say that... but you should rest more! Or—or maybe I can make something to help! A machine, or a... or a potion!"
She flung her arms around dramatically, already lost in a swirl of ideas, her excitement bubbling over.
Duke chuckled softly, the sound easing the tension in the cold evening air. "I'm counting on you, Powder."
Her grin lit up her face, her enthusiasm brighter than any light in Zaun's dim skyline.
But before Duke could say anything else, his vision blurred. The world around him spun violently, and the next thing he knew, he was falling.
"Big brother!" Powder's voice echoed in the distance as everything went dark.
...
"Where am I?" Duke muttered, looking around.
The space was impossibly vast, pure white stretching endlessly in all directions. Before him hovered a strange, floating sphere of energy. It pulsed rhythmically, warping the space around it like ripples in water. Its fragmented surface resembled shattered glass or crystalline veins, glowing with a volatile mix of colors—electric blues, deep purples, and sharp flashes of crimson.
"Arcane?" he whispered, recognition dawning on his face. This place felt eerily familiar. It was exactly how he had imagined the dimension where the arcane itself resided.
As he gazed at the sphere, Duke suddenly became aware of something strange—he could stand. Tentatively, he moved to take a step, the sensation foreign but exhilarating.
But before his foot touched the ground, a searing light exploded in his vision.
He froze, his eyes blazing as torrents of knowledge surged into his mind. It was overwhelming—like the unrelenting tide of an ocean, crashing and flooding his consciousness. Images, symbols, spells, and equations burned themselves into his thoughts, leaving him trembling. His body convulsed, and the glowing light in his eyes began to flicker and fade.
Unable to withstand the deluge, Duke collapsed, the cold ground meeting him as darkness swallowed him whole.
...
"Powder, what happened to him?" Violet asked, her voice sharp with worry.
"I-I don't know! We were about to leave, and then... big brother just—he just fainted!" Powder stammered, her hands fidgeting as her wide eyes darted between Violet and Duke.
Duke lay motionless on the worn sofa, surrounded by a small, anxious crowd. Violet knelt beside him, her gaze scanning his pale face for any sign of life.
Vander, a towering figure with a rugged but kind face, stepped forward, his deep voice steady but concerned. "I think we need to get him to a doctor. His condition might be getting worse."
As Vander turned to head out, Powder gasped, clutching Duke's hand tighter. "Big brother?!"
Duke's eyes fluttered open, his vision blurry as he blinked slowly. The room swam into focus—a familiar space filled with faces he cared about. He groaned softly and pushed himself upright.
"Where am I? Oh... right." His voice was raspy, but the faint hint of a wry smile tugged at his lips. For a brief moment, he'd forgotten where he was, and who he was now. Memories of his two lives—both his old world and this one—intertwined, leaving him momentarily disoriented.
Vi's eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms. "What do you mean 'right'? You scared the hell out of us!"
She jabbed a finger toward him. "Don't do that again, got it?"
Powder, still clutching his hand, nodded fiercely. "Yeah! You—you can't just pass out like that! You have to tell us if something's wrong!"
Duke let out a weak chuckle, though the sound was genuine. "Sorry, girls. Just a bit of a... brain overload."
Of course, he couldn't tell them the real reason for his collapse. He wasn't about to explain that he'd fainted because of the Arcane—and the flood of knowledge that had surged into his mind like a tidal wave.
What he'd gained was staggering: the complete formulas and intricacies of Beyonder Pathways. Yet, something didn't make sense. How had a power system from Lord of the Mysteries ended up here, in this world? He didn't have the answer, but he didn't care. For the first time in years, he felt a flicker of hope stirring in his chest.
Still, the pathways had changed in significant ways to fit this world. The ingredients and promotion methods were different, and there were no "True Gods" tied to the pathways. Even more importantly, there was no corruption from the Outer Gods. The pathways had been refined, made safer, and more compatible with this reality.
But there was a catch—nothing in this world came free. The Arcane had bound him with a contract. He could use the pathways and share them only with his family. Making them public, selling them, or spreading the knowledge in any way would trigger dire consequences.
Vander huffed, breaking Duke's thoughts. His arms were crossed, his stern gaze fixed on him. "Brain overload or not, you need rest. No more pushing yourself."
His tone softened as he placed a reassuring hand on Duke's shoulder. "We've got enough on our plates without you collapsing on us."
Vi and Powder exchanged uneasy glances but didn't argue. Powder clung to Duke's arm, resting her head against his shoulder.
"Just... don't leave us, okay?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
Duke's heart clenched at the quiet plea. He gently ruffled her hair, a genuine smile breaking through his weariness. "I'm not going anywhere, Powder. I promise."
...
After the earlier commotion, everyone went back to their routines. Vander returned to tending his bar, his steady presence keeping the place running smoothly. Violet and her two gang members were out roaming the streets, likely looking for a fight or some trouble to stir up. Powder, on the other hand, was off playing with her friend Ekko, her laughter occasionally drifting through the building.
Left alone in his room, Duke busied himself with his own task. He carefully wrote down all the knowledge of the pathways and their formulas into a journal. To safeguard the information, he wrote it in English, ensuring no one else in this world could easily decipher it if it ever fell into the wrong hands.
Sitting back, he began to plan his next steps. The pathways were vast and varied, each offering unique powers and advantages. Without the constraints of gods tied to them, he could freely choose the one that suited him best.
After much thought, Duke settled on the **Visionary Pathway**.
He wasn't the type to charge into battle anymore. Those days were behind him, left in the past along with the reckless, hotheaded version of himself who once resembled Violet. Before losing his legs, he'd been like her—bold, impulsive, and always ready to fight. But experiencing death twice had changed him. It wasn't just maturity; it was fear. Fear of death, fear of leaving the people he cared about behind.
The Visionary Pathway aligned perfectly with his new perspective. It wasn't about physical strength or direct confrontation. Instead, it revolved around manipulation—of narratives, events, and perception. Like a storyteller pulling the strings, the Visionary could subtly control the world around them, bending it to their will.
This approach suited Duke's current state. He could work from behind the scenes, guiding Vander, Violet, and even Powder to act on his behalf. They could be his hands and fists, while he ensured the pieces on the board moved exactly as he wanted.
For the first time in a long while, Duke felt like he had a purpose again—a way to influence this world, not just survive in it.
Still, as he closed the journal and set it aside, a shadow lingered in his thoughts. He feared death, yes, but more than that, he feared failure. If he couldn't succeed, what would happen to Zaun? What would happen to the people he called family?
Duke shook his head, forcing those thoughts away. He had a plan now, and plans meant hope.