The Lanes were alive with noise and movement, but at the heart of it stood the Last Drop, its presence commanding respect. Inside, the atmosphere buzzed with a mix of curiosity and impatience as the room filled with people—workers, rogues, and fighters alike.
"So, everyone's here," Vander said, stepping into the center of the gathering. He took a long drag from his pipe, letting the smoke curl lazily around him before exhaling. His voice cut through the noise like a blade. "Silence."
The room fell quiet almost instantly. All eyes turned to him.
"Duke here has something to say," Vander announced, his tone leaving no room for argument. He stepped aside slightly, allowing Duke to take the spotlight.
Duke's gaze swept across the crowd. He could read their moods like a book—some were bored, some excited, others feigning interest or barely concealing their annoyance. They were here because of Vander, not him. He knew that. His reputation as Vander's son allowed him to speak, but to these people, he was just a young, crippled man. His words would need to prove their worth.
A faint smile crept across his face, though it didn't reach his eyes. 'If they want a leader,' he thought, 'then I'll give them one.'
He stepped forward, his voice steady and clear as he began. "We've all felt it—the dissatisfaction, the anger. The Enforcers don't serve us. They control us. They walk into our streets with arrogance and light, acting like they own everything while we live in their shadow."
His eyes scanned the crowd, his words resonating with the undercurrent of frustration and resentment that rippled through the room.
"Zaun has been a breeding ground for fear, anger, and desperation for far too long. I know many of you have thought about it—about fighting back." He let the words hang in the air for a moment, watching their reactions. Faces shifted, and postures stiffened. He had their attention now.
Duke straightened, his voice firm. "After long talks with Vander, we've come to a decision. We will fight."
The declaration sent a ripple through the room—murmurs, gasps, and a few whispers of excitement. Duke raised a hand to quiet them. "But this won't be reckless. This won't be chaos. This will be Zaun rising as one. United. Strong. And for the first time, we won't just be fighting for survival—we'll be fighting for a future."
He stepped back slightly, his gaze lingering on Vander for a moment before sweeping over the crowd again. "We are the Lanes. And it's time we show Piltover what that means."
The bar fell into silence and then everyone cheered hugged their brothers, and raised their cups, this was like a dream come true.
"Of course..." Duke's voice cut through the murmurs, commanding silence once again. He let the weight of his words hang in the air before continuing. "If we're going to fight Piltover, we need to fix ourselves first."
The crowd stilled, their anticipation palpable. Duke's expression darkened slightly, his gaze sharp as it swept over the room. "As it stands, there's a man out there—a man who dared to kidnap my sister. Vander's daughter. Someone who thought they could threaten our family and get away with it."
The mention of Powder and Vander sent a ripple of unease and anger through the crowd. Duke's tone hardened. "I need everyone's help to find him. Whoever's responsible for this needs to understand something—Zaun doesn't take kindly to its being taken. We protect our family. All of us."
His words ignited a spark in the room, a sense of unity and purpose beginning to build. He took a step forward, his voice steady but edged with steel. "Before we fight anyone else, we deal with this. Together. No one comes into the Lanes, takes one of ours, and walks away."
...
"You were looking for me?" Sevika's voice carried a blunt edge as she lowered herself into the chair across from Duke. Her movements were deliberate, exuding a confidence that bordered on intimidation. Vander slid her a drink without a word, a quiet acknowledgment of her status.
Duke nodded, meeting her sharp gaze. "I've heard about you. Strong, fierce—one of the best in this bar. Maybe even the strongest, next to Vander."
Sevika smirked faintly, swirling her drink. "Is that supposed to impress me? Get to the point," she said, her tone dismissive but not hostile. She leaned back slightly, a picture of practiced indifference, though her eyes were sharp, watchful.
Duke studied her carefully. Even as she feigned boredom, her posture and subtle movements spoke volumes. After drinking the Spectator potion, he'd become attuned to reading people's intentions through their body language. Sevika wasn't impatient—she was measuring him, deciding whether his words carried weight.
He leaned forward slightly, speaking slowly. "What is your dream, Sevika?"
Her smirk faded, replaced by a guarded look. "Dreams?" she echoed, her tone skeptical. "Dreams don't get you far in Zaun."
"Maybe not," Duke conceded. "But I know you've carried the weight of this place on your back before. You've fought for Zaun, led its people, and stood against powers far greater than yourself. That kind of loyalty, that strength—it's rare."
Sevika's gaze flickered for a moment, her fingers tightening around her glass. "You think flattery's going to win me over?"
"No," Duke replied smoothly. "I think you've spent your life surrounded by people too afraid to say what they really want. Too afraid to ask for what they need."
Sevika leaned forward now, resting her elbows on the table. "And what is it you want, exactly?"
Duke's voice didn't waver. "Zaun's future. A real future—not just scraps tossed our way by Piltover. I want a Zaun where people don't have to bow their heads or live in the shadows."
He glanced at Vander, who nodded silently, then looked back at Sevika. "But Zaun is still dangerous, even united. You and I both know you can't trust everyone. That's why I need your help. I need someone like you—someone who knows how to fight, and how to lead. Someone willing to shoulder the burden others can't."
Sevika's expression didn't change for a moment. Then, she chuckled, low and quiet, shaking her head. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. Most people don't have the spine to ask me to work for them."
"Not work for me," Duke corrected. "Fight alongside me. Protect the people who can't protect themselves. Help me build something worth fighting for."
For a long moment, Sevika studied him, her gaze unflinching. Then she took a slow sip of her drink, setting the glass down with a decisive clink. "Alright, Duke. I'll play along for now. But if you're not as good as you talk, I won't hesitate to walk away—and you won't stop me."
Duke smiled faintly, inclining his head. "Deal."
Duke then slides the contract.
"Join us."
...
A day later, in a shadowed alleyway, Duke sat in his wheelchair, his sharp gaze fixed ahead. Behind him, Sevika pushed the chair with steady precision, her imposing presence casting a long shadow. Her eyes swept the path before them, ever watchful. The two moved through a labyrinth of backstreets and hidden paths, arriving at a crumbling, abandoned building.
Inside, the tension was palpable. Grayson stood flanked by a group of enforcers, their hands resting uneasily on their weapons. She glanced up as Duke entered, her expression wary.
"You're here," Grayson said.
Duke's tone was calm, and calculated. "And you've read it, I assume?"
Sevika leaned casually against the wall behind him, her arms crossed. Her glare swept across the room, locking onto the enforcers. Though she detested dealing with Piltover's enforcers, she held her tongue, respecting Duke's vision. For now.
Grayson frowned, her gaze flickering between Duke and Sevika. "I have. But this is a bold move, Duke. Are you certain about this? You're not Vander, after all."
Duke's lips curled into a faint smile, but his tone was sharp. "There's no need to compare me to Vander. He chose peace through stillness, and while I respect his path, mine is different."
His gaze bore into Grayson. "You can investigate the claims further if you like, but you'll find I'm right. Silco isn't just a remnant of the old revolution—he's the one behind the explosions, and the one producing Shimmer. A drug that will destabilize Zaun and Piltover alike if left unchecked."
Grayson exchanged glances with her enforcers, her brow furrowing. "We've already begun looking into Silco. A former comrade of Vander, leading a new kind of rebellion… But working with you is a risk."
"I'm aware," Duke said smoothly, leaning back in his chair. "But this isn't about me. It's about Zaun. Silco isn't just a threat to me or my family—he's a threat to everyone. Piltover may look down on Zaun, but even you can't afford to let someone like him grow unchecked. This isn't a request, Grayson. It's a warning."
Grayson's eyes narrowed. "And what of your actions, Duke? You've made waves—crossed lines that even Vander wouldn't. Are you sure Zaun will stand behind you when the time comes?"
Duke's smile didn't falter. "Zaun doesn't need to stand behind me. I'll pull it forward myself if I have to. For Zaun's future."
Sevika, silent until now, let out a low chuckle, her voice cutting through the tension in the room. "This guy's no pushover. If he says he's got it handled, you'd better believe him." Her tone was casual, almost dismissive, but the weight behind her words carried a quiet authority that silenced any lingering doubt.
Grayson stared at Duke for a long moment, then sighed. "Fine. We'll act on your information, but understand this: If you're wrong, or if this is some kind of ploy…"
Duke cut her off, his voice cool and unwavering. "You'll have every reason to bring me down. But you won't. Because I'm not wrong."
Grayson gave a curt nod, then turned to leave, her enforcers trailing behind her.
As the door closed behind them, Sevika pushed off the wall and smirked. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. Making deals with the enforcers while keeping the Lanes in line? Dangerous game."
Duke chuckled softly, his eyes gleaming with determination. "It's not a game, Sevika. It's a strategy. One step closer to uniting Zaun."
Duke sighed. His plan seemed perfect. Silco had indeed covered the tracks of Violet, Powder, and the gang, ensuring no evidence would lead the enforcers to the four children. The enforcers were none the wiser, thanks to the false information Duke had fed them. And Silco...
He shook his head. I hope you're doing your part, Silco.