Arcane: I have Plasmids F*** YEAAAAAAH!!!

It had been days.

Days of enforcers crawling through the Undercity like cockroaches.

They stopped whoever they wanted.

Harassed whoever they wanted.

Tore through homes, shops—any place they thought a bunch of kids might be hiding.

All because that Pink Gorilla and Company, suddenly decided—

"OooOoh, I'm gOnNa bloW up a FUCKING buiLdiNg."

(Damn, bro you good?)

He sighed.

His chair creaked as he leaned back, staring at the ceiling of his office in Fontaine Futuristics.

This was getting out of hand.

The Lanes were suffocating.

People were scared.

And scared people made stupid decisions.

He needed to do something.

---

There was a commotion outside.

Raised voices.

Shouting.

And then—

A sound Lukas really, really didn't like.

Boots.

Heavy. Ordered. Uninvited.

Enforcers.

---

Lukas exhaled sharply.

"Fuck me sideways."

He stood, grabbed his coat, and headed for the stairs.

---

The moment Lukas stepped onto the catwalk, he saw them.

Enforcers. Seven of them.

Armored. Armed. Already rounding up his workers.

The factory crew stood tense, some with their hands up, others stiff with barely restrained anger.

Powder wasn't here. Ekko wasn't here.

Thank Janna.

But the kids were. The ones who had helped him clean the place.

And right now?

They looked terrified.

Lukas did not like that.

At the center of it all, one enforcer stepped forward.

He had the smugness of a man who thought he owned the room.

Lukas knew the type.

The type who thought a badge made him untouchable.

Bitch cleared his throat. (Yeah i'm calling him bitch for the sake of 'Not giving a fuck')

"Listen up. We're looking for four criminals. Four Zaunite street rats who blew up a building in Piltover."

His voice dripped with disgust.

He gestured vaguely to the enforcers behind him.

"We'll be searching everyone. Don't make this difficult."

The workers shifted uneasily.

Someone muttered something under their breath.

He didn't like that.

His eyes sharpened.

"The hell did you just say?"

Silence.

Lukas sighed.

Time to step in.

---

He started descending the stairs.

The enforcers noticed him immediately.

One of them, big guy, wearing a mask,moved toward him.

"Stay right there."

Lukas didn't.

Kept walking.

The guy stepped into his path.

"You deaf? I said stay right there."

Lukas raised a brow.

"Me? Sorry, I tend to ignore background noise."

He smirked.

That pissed the guy off.

He grabbed Lukas's arm.

"Hold still. I'm searching you."

Lukas tensed.

Then relaxed.

Oh.

Oh, this was perfect.

He spread his arms out dramatically.

"By all means, Officer. But just so you know, if you wanna touch me down there, it's gonna cost ya."

He winked.

---

The factory floor went dead fucking silent.

Someone snorted.

Someone else choked on laughter.

The enforcer's eye twitched.

The one who gave thar little speech sighed.

"For fuck's sake, just search him already."

Lukas grinned.

The enforcer patted him down.

Lukas held still.

He wasn't stupid.

Thank Janna he left his gun upstairs.

'Would've been real stupid if I had it on me right now.' (...that fucking bitch, did he just—)

The enforcer didn't find anything.

Lukas tilted his head.

"What, no dinner first?"

He ignored him.

But his patience?

Already wearing thin.

---

Bitch Enforcer stepped forward.

Hands behind his back.

Fake authority dripping from every step.

He looked Lukas up and down.

Then finally—

"Is the owner of this factory present?"

Lukas blinked.

Then smirked.

"You're looking at him."

He frowned.

Lukas extended a hand.

"Lukas Fontaine. Genius. Entrepreneur. Visionary. Guy you're currently wasting time with."

Bitch did not shake his hand.

He squinted.

"You're the owner?"

Lukas sighed, dropping his hand.

"Yes."

He clearly didn't believe him.

His eyes scanned the factory.

One of the other enforcers picked up a telegraph, turning it over in his hands.

He gestured to it.

"This factory has some serious violations of—"

Lukas cut him off.

"Cool. Cool. Who gives a shit? This is Zaun."

---

He narrowed his eyes.

"Watch your tone, kid."

Lukas gave him a mocking tilt of the head.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Officer. I didn't realize I was supposed to be kissing boots right now."

He exhaled through his nose.

He really didn't like Lukas.

"Your factory's making these?" He gestured to the telegraph.

Lukas shrugged.

"Figure it out."

His eyes twitched.

Jaw clenched.

"You think this is funny?"

Lukas's smirk didn't falter.

"I think you're a joke, if that's what you're asking."

The workers stiffened.

Tension spiked.

The Officer's hand twitched toward his baton.

But he didn't pull it.

Not yet.

Instead—

"You people are all the same," he muttered. "Arrogant little rats thinking you're worth something."

"You're not."

"Never will be."

Lukas stayed composed.

Didn't react.

Didn't rise to the bait.

Just watched him.

Waiting.

Bitch clicked his tongue.

"We'll be back."

He turned toward his men.

"To shut this dump down next time."

The enforcers started to move.

Lukas let them.

But as they passed—

Lukas muttered, just loud enough—

"You're welcome to try."

---

Bitch stopped.

Lukas could feel his glare.

Could feel the barely restrained rage.

But he didn't turn around.

Didn't react.

Didn't rise to the bait.

Just kept walking.

And then—

They were gone.

---

The moment the doors slammed shut, the workers exploded.

Anger. Fear. Frustration.

Some wanted to fight.

Some wanted to leave.

Lukas took a slow breath.

This couldn't go on.

This was only the beginning.

He needed to talk to Vander.

---

The Last drop.

The usual crowd.

Workers unwinding after long shifts.

Gangsters swapping stories.

Drunks gambling their last coins away.

The doors opened.

And the air shifted.

---

The first to enter was Marcus.

His Uniform was dusted with the filth of the Undercity, but the way he walked?

Like the stink didn't touch him.

Like he was better than this place.

Two enforcers followed, their rifles strapped tight to their backs.

Their eyes scanned the room.

Assessing. Calculating.

And then—fixing.

Right on Vander.

---

Vander was behind the bar, cleaning a glass.

He didn't stop.

Didn't flinch.

Just watched.

Then—

A casual nod.

"Welcome to the last drop."

His voice was smooth. Even.

"What can I get you."

Marcus approached the bar.

Slow. Measured.

And then—

He leaned in slightly.

A smirk curling at his lips.

"Nothing much, just four little Rats."

---

The room stilled.

The warmth of conversation faded.

Like the whole bar exhaled.

Waiting.

Watching.

Vander's grip on the glass didn't change.

But his eyes?

Sharper now.

"Don't know what you're talking about."

Marcus's smirk twitched wider.

He gestured vaguely.

"You really expect me to believe that?"

Vander exhaled through his nose.

He shrugged.

"You're wasting your time here."

Then—he reached under the counter.

Pulled out a bottle.

"How about a drink?"

And then—

Pressed a switch beneath the bar.

---

Vander grabbed a tall bottle from the lowest shelf.

The glass was thick. Heavy.

Strange letters curling in a language Marcus didn't recognize.

He narrowed his eyes.

"What's this?"

Vander smirked.

Then poured a glass.

"Good friend o' mine brought it over from overseas."

Marcus lifted the glass.

Swirled the liquid.

"Looks expensive for a place like this."

He took a sip.

Sharp. Bitter. Strong.

His lips twitched.

"Not bad."

---

Then—he set the glass down.

And his smirk faded.

"You know," Marcus said, voice lowering.

"I met an old friend of yours recently."

His fingers drummed against the counter.

"Told me some stories."

Vander's jaw tensed.

Marcus reached forward.

Slow. Deliberate.

And took Vander's pipe.

Then—

Dropped it into the glass of vodka.

The drink burst into flames.

Blue fire flickered between them.

"You weren't always like this huh? A Coward."

---

Silence.

A sharp, deadly silence.

The bar shifted.

Folks were ready to beat the shit out of those enforcers.

Vander's fingers curled around the counter.

His knuckles white.

But—

With just one look—

He told them to stand down.

---

Marcus exhaled through his nose.

He turned to his men.

"Search the place."

The enforcers nodded.

And one of them moved toward the stairs.

But before he could take another step—

A voice cut through the air.

"That's a really bad idea."