Arcane: Mage from Noxus

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Looking at the bustling, grimy cityscape of Zaun outside the window, Viktor murmured:

"I've always believed that when I have the power to change the world, neither I nor Zaun need to remain at the mercy of others."

"This philosophy aligns with Noxus," Ryan replied in agreement.

"I think you'll like it there."

Viktor smiled wryly and shook his head, replying firmly, word by word:

"Politics, prejudice, magic, force, technology, intelligence... countless talents converge in Noxus. In Piltover, all I see is prejudice and politics."

The mechanical car approached the bridge that connected Zaun and Piltover. The commotion caused by Piltover's enforcers cast a shadow over Viktor's expression.

That morning, when Jayce ascended as a council member, the council had announced an order for a full-scale investigation of Zaun.

A wave of enforcers in gas masks poured into the undercity, and it wasn't hard to imagine the chaos unfolding there now.

It was then that Viktor completely gave up on his partner. They could collaborate on research, but Jayce would never understand the struggles and pain of the people in the Lanes.

Piltover's prejudice made it impossible to address the root of the conflict between the two cities.

Instead, repression was their answer.

By the bridge, the mechanical car didn't stop. Katarina, with practiced grace, slipped inside.

"I've never seen such a chaotic place," Katarina remarked, wrinkling her nose.

"There's no gunfire here, but the air reeks of despair."

She didn't bother to hide her disgust from Viktor.

"It seems you didn't have a pleasant experience, Miss Katarina," Ryan observed, his expression unfazed.

"Nevertheless, I assume you've found a suitable location for my meeting with Silco?"

"The roof of the Last Drop," Katarina replied, glancing at Viktor for confirmation.

"The terrain is relatively high, and it's Silco's current hideout. It used to belong to Vander."

"Indeed," Viktor muttered, clearing his throat.

"It's the tallest building in Zaun... but also the most chaotic place right now."

As soon as the car crossed into Zaun, the stench of chemicals seeped inside. Viktor coughed harshly, but despite his discomfort, he studied Ryan and Katarina carefully.

To his surprise, neither of them flinched at the foul air.

"You seem surprised, weak scientist," Katarina sneered.

"Some parts of Noxus are a hundred times more inhospitable than this."

"The performance of Councilor Talis must not have been particularly stellar," Ryan said suddenly, his tone laced with intrigue.

"It's nothing," Viktor replied, clearly trying to shift the subject.

"Everyone has their own goals. This is the real Zaun—the air heavy with chemicals, but compared to the mines and chemical factories, the smell here is almost pleasant."

"Well, look at it this way—you have the chance to change this," Ryan said calmly.

"And I believe in one thing."

"What?" Viktor asked, curious despite himself.

"The purpose of knowledge is not to escape a poor homeland, but to ensure your homeland does not remain poor."

Katarina paused, momentarily taken aback, her sharp features softening into quiet agreement. Viktor, however, seemed lost in thought, the weight of those words sinking in.

The mechanical car continued its smooth journey, undeterred by Zaun's muddy and cluttered streets.

Viktor had designed and built this vehicle himself, intending it to benefit Zaun. Ironically, the only people who could afford it were Piltovans, and they rarely set foot in the undercity.

"Is this the Last Drop?" Ryan asked as he stepped out of the car, surveying the building with interest.

"It's unique, I'll give it that. Only in Zaun could a place like this thrive."

The tavern's weathered exterior was covered in graffiti, rebellious artwork dancing under the glow of mismatched, flickering lights. Despite its dilapidated state, the building exuded a strange kind of pride.

"This was the safest place in Zaun when Vander was in charge," Viktor explained, standing slightly behind Ryan, playing the role of guide.

"Things have changed since then. But his statue still stands nearby. Every day, someone lights his pipe, as if paying tribute to his memory."

Katarina scoffed, recalling Ryan's earlier words.

"It seems Silco had quite the connection to Vander, doesn't he?"

Her expression was mocking, but Viktor ignored her tone. Instead, his gaze lingered on the statue in the distance, a somber look passing across his face.

Ryan looked at Katarina with a faint, meaningful expression.

"Killed the boss of the past with your own hands, yet you still seem to long for him every day?"

Katarina shot him a sharp glare.

"If one day the dagger in your hand pierces the neck of General Du Couteau," Ryan continued,

"you might understand that feeling."

"That man abandoned me," Katarina retorted irritably.

Yet her voice faltered as her eyes turned distant.

"If that day ever comes... I don't know..."

Before Ryan could respond, his attention shifted toward the entrance of the Last Drop. His sharp gaze narrowed.

"Well, you must be the big guy from Noxus," a deep, mocking voice slurred.

"You don't look so tough."

A stout, dark-skinned woman stood at the entrance. Her swagger was heavy with drink, and her rebellious sneer sharpened as her gaze landed on Ryan.

To someone of Noxian nobility, his lean frame and refined appearance seemed weak.

Swish!

Katarina vanished into a shadow. In an instant, she appeared in front of the woman, twisting the drunkard's arm with a swift elbow and pressing the edge of her dagger against her throat.

"Watch your tongue, fool."

Her voice was as cold as ice.

"Don't frighten her, Katarina. She's Silco's subordinate and our guide," Ryan said calmly, stepping past them as though nothing had happened.

Viktor followed, his face unreadable.

Katarina lowered her blade reluctantly, though the woman grumbled under her breath. Her sullen face betrayed a mix of fear and irritation as she turned to lead them upstairs.

After several flights of rickety stairs, they emerged onto the roof of the Last Drop—a sprawling, open platform with a view of Zaun's smog-choked skyline.

The woman sneered at Viktor, who was catching his breath after the climb. Clearly, she thought little of the Noxian entourage. She leaned toward a short, wiry man, whispering something in his ear.

The man turned, and Viktor's eyes widened slightly. Silco's appearance was unsettling—only the right side of his face was intact.

The left side was grotesquely wrinkled, his sclera blackened, and the eyeball itself an unnatural shade of orange-red.

Yet Silco smiled, his voice hoarse but unnervingly kind.

"Welcome to Zaun, my Noxian friends. I must apologize for my... less-than-courteous subordinates. I doubt men of your stature would bother comparing themselves to us in the undercity."

Ryan didn't answer immediately. Instead, a flicker of deep blue magic flashed across his eyes—a rune, faint but potent. Silco's subordinate instinctively tensed, but Silco himself remained unfazed, watching Ryan carefully.

Ryan's gaze lingered on Silco.

"Multiple injections of shimmer. Recently, three doses to the right leg, two to the left arm, and one each to the right arm and left leg. The technique is sloppy—almost torturous. The distortion on the left side of your face suggests shimmer is administered through the left eye several times a day just to keep you alive. Addiction is severe. Without shimmer every three hours, your body would collapse from withdrawal. Tell me, am I wrong, Mr. Silco?"

Silco's subordinates froze, shocked by Ryan's calm dissection of their leader's condition. Even Katarina and Viktor were caught off guard, though they knew Ryan to be a mage.

Silco's thin lips curled into an amused, strained smile. After a moment of silence, he let out a low chuckle.

"Impressive. You live up to the reputation of Noxian mages, Lord Meredith." He exhaled slowly, steadying himself before continuing.

"But tell me, what is it that Noxus seeks from Zaun? How can Silco be of service to you?"

Ryan's smile remained faint, his voice measured. "What do you think of Piltover's new councilor, Jayce Talis?"

Silco's expression flickered with surprise at the question. His eyes darted to Ryan, narrowing as he searched for any hint of motive. Seeing none, he hesitated, then replied honestly.

"Jayce Talis is talented, I'll grant him that. But he is a typical topsider—shaped by the ignorance of Piltover's gilded education. He's like a blank canvas, easily manipulated by those who understand how to hold the brush."

Katarina, disinterested in the conversation, watched Silco's subordinates instead.

One of them—a man with a robotic arm filled with shimmering tubes of purple liquid—caught her eye. He returned her gaze with a smug smirk, clearly attempting to provoke her.

Viktor, however, couldn't take his eyes off Silco. The man before him—Zaun's self-proclaimed leader—seemed unremarkable at first glance.

Viktor had always known Silco as a struggling businessman, a man with influence in Zaun but far from the mastermind behind its current upheaval. It was hard to reconcile this with the chaos the undercity now faced.

"So, you're the cause of all this," Viktor muttered to himself, his voice barely audible.

Silco pondered Ryan's question for a while, his calculating mind trying to decipher the mage's intentions. Unable to find an answer from Ryan's stoic expression, Silco finally sighed and spoke his mind.

"As I said, Talis is bright, but his ideas belong to Piltover. He cannot see beyond the shimmer of his city's polished metal. And like all topsiders, he believes his vision of the future is the only one worth having."