Arcane: the Monster of Zaun

As the days turned to weeks, the moon's growing presence weighed heavily on Derek. The closer the full moon came, the harder it became to think clearly, to keep his instincts in check. His strength and speed, once marvels he was coming to terms with, now felt like ticking time bombs. Every time his temper flared or his senses sharpened, he could feel the creature inside him clawing to break free.

After a tense discussion in the Last Drop's back room, the group reached an uneasy decision.

"It's just until we figure this out," Vi said, trying to sound resolute, though the unease in her eyes betrayed her feelings. "We can't risk anyone getting hurt. Not you, not us."

Derek stood stiffly, his jaw tight. He hated the idea of being locked away like a dangerous animal. But deep down, he knew they were right. "it's Okay, I understand." he muttered, his voice barely audible. "But… stay close. Please."

"We will," Powder said quickly, her eyes wide and earnest. "We'll be right outside. You're not alone, Derek."

Her words gave him a sliver of comfort as they led him into a reinforced storage room deep within an abandoned isolated building. The room was small and bare, its walls lined with thick metal and stone beams.

When the moon finally began to rise that night, Derek could feel it before he even saw it. It was like a drumbeat in his chest, growing louder and more insistent with each passing minute. His hands trembled as his claws extended involuntarily, and his breathing grew heavier.

"I can handle this," he whispered to himself, pacing the room. "I can handle this…"

But as the light of the full moon streamed through the small, barred window, all thoughts of control slipped away. A low growl escaped his throat, unbidden, and his golden eyes gleamed in the dim light.

Derek's body moved on its own as the primal energy took over. He lunged at the walls, his claws tearing into the wooden beams, splinters flying in every direction. He slammed his fists against the reinforced metal panels, denting them with each blow. The creature inside him howled for freedom, and Derek was helpless to stop it.

Outside, the group flinched as the sounds of destruction echoed through the walls.

"What if the room's not strong enough?" Mylo asked, his voice tight with fear. "What if he—"

"He's not going to hurt anyone," Powder interrupted firmly, though her trembling hands betrayed her. "He's Derek. He won't let it happen."

Vi placed a hand on Powder's shoulder, trying to reassure her. "We stay here. He needs to know we're with him."

"Derek!" Claggor shouted, his voice raised over the sound of the chaos. "We're here, okay? You're not alone!"

"Come on, man, snap out of it!" Mylo added, though his voice wavered slightly.

Inside the room, Derek growled louder, his claws raking against the walls in a desperate attempt to escape. Their voices barely reached him, muffled by the haze of rage and instinct. The room seemed smaller with every second, closing in on him.

Outside, Powder pressed her hands against the door, tears streaming down her face. She couldn't stand hearing Derek like this—so angry, so lost. "Derek," she said softly at first, then louder, her voice trembling but insistent. "Derek, listen to me. Please."

Inside, Derek froze for a split second. That voice—so small and familiar—cut through the storm of his mind.

"Derek, you're stronger than this," Powder continued, her voice steadying as she spoke. "You don't have to let it take over. You're still you. We're all out here, waiting for you. We believe in you."

Derek staggered back from the wall, his breathing ragged. The moon's pull still hammered at him, but something about Powder's voice made it easier to fight. He closed his eyes, focusing on her words.

"I know it feels like you're losing yourself," she said, her tone softening. "But you're not. You're Derek. You're our friend. My friend."

A shudder ran through Derek's body as he slowly dropped to his knees. His claws retracted, and the golden glow of his eyes dimmed. For the first time that night, the raging beast inside him grew quiet.

The room was silent now, save for Derek's ragged breathing. He sat slumped against the wall, his hands shaking as he ran them through his hair. His body ached from the struggle, but it was nothing compared to the relief of knowing he had regained control.

Outside, the group exchanged wary glances. "Do you think it's over?" Claggor asked hesitantly.

Powder didn't wait for an answer. She pushed the door open and rushed inside, stopping just short of Derek. "Derek?" she said softly.

He looked up at her, his eyes red from exertion and emotion. "I'm… I'm okay," he managed to say, his voice hoarse.

Powder knelt beside him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You did it," she said, her voice filled with quiet pride. "You fought it off."

Derek nodded weakly, his head dropping forward. He was too drained to speak, but her words gave him a small flicker of hope.

Later that night, Derek sat with the group in the dim light of the Last Drop's main room. The air was heavy with unspoken tension, but there was also a quiet sense of triumph.

"Whatever this is," Vi said finally, breaking the silence, "we'll figure it out. Together."

Derek looked around at his friends—Vi's determined gaze, Claggor's quiet reassurance, Mylo's nervous but genuine concern, and Powder's unwavering belief in him.

"Thank you," he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "For not giving up on me."

Powder smiled, her eyes still a little red from earlier. "We never will."

As the group sat together, Derek allowed himself to feel something he hadn't felt in a long time: hope. For the first time, he believed that maybe, just maybe, he could learn to control the beast within—and that he wouldn't have to face it alone.

Even though Derek had managed to wrest control from the beast during the full moon, the days that followed were far from smooth. His newfound strength, so difficult to keep in check, caused problems at every turn.

Another one incident happened the morning after. Derek had woken up early, hoping to help Vander with repairs to the bar's main door. But as he tightened a bolt, the wrench twisted in his grip like soft metal.

"Damn it," Derek muttered, staring at the ruined tool.

"It's fine," Vander said, though the tension in his voice was clear. "We'll get another wrench. Just... try to ease up next time, kid."

Derek nodded silently, his shoulders slumping.

But it didn't stop there. Plates and mugs shattered when he accidentally gripped them too tightly. The legs of a chair splintered when he leaned on it. Even the doorframe leading into the storage room now bore claw marks from when he had bumped into it.

The group did their best to ignore the growing list of damages, but Derek couldn't shake the feeling that he was a walking disaster.

One afternoon, Vi gathered the group in the back room of the Last Drop. She leaned against the wall, arms crossed, her expression serious.

"All right," she began. "We've got a job lined up. A good one this time. If we pull it off, it'll mean solid coin for weeks."

Claggor grinned. "Finally, some good news."

"What's the target?" Mylo asked, leaning forward eagerly.

"Simple retrieval," Vi replied. "A shipment of gear meant for Piltover. It's being stored in one of the warehouses near the docks. Security's light, and we've got a small window before they move it."

"That's more like it," Mylo said with a smirk.

Powder, who had been sitting quietly, raised her hand. "What about Derek?" she asked.

Vi hesitated, glancing at Derek. He was sitting in the corner, his arms resting on his knees, his expression unreadable.

"Not this time," Vi said firmly. "Derek, you're still figuring this out. We can't risk... well, we just can't risk anything going wrong."

Derek looked down, his jaw tightening. "I get it," he said quietly.

Powder opened her mouth to protest, but Vi shook her head. "It's for the best, Powder. This one's got to go perfectly."

The room fell silent. Derek's gaze remained fixed on the floor, but Powder noticed the way his hands clenched into fists.

The next evening, the group set out for the docks, leaving Derek behind at the Last Drop. He watched them go from the bar's second-floor window, a knot of frustration and shame twisting in his chest.

They're better off without me. The thought stung more than he expected, but he didn't let himself dwell on it.

Meanwhile, the job unfolded just as Vi had planned. The group slipped into the warehouse under cover of darkness, navigating the rows of crates and barrels with practiced ease.

Powder played her part perfectly, using one of her gadgets to disable the warehouse's alarm system. Her blue eyes lit up as the device clicked and whirred, cutting off the security feed with a faint spark.

"Got it!" she whispered excitedly.

Vi grinned, clapping her on the shoulder. "Nice work, Powder. Keep it up."

The rest of the job went off without a hitch. Within an hour, the group was back at the Last Drop, their loot safely hidden away.

Powder burst into the bar, her face glowing with pride. "Derek!" she called, scanning the room.

Derek looked up from where he sat near the hearth, his brows lifting in surprise.

"We did it!" Powder said, bounding over to him. "The job was perfect! No alarms, no problems, nothing!"

"That's great," Derek said with a small smile.

"And guess what?" she continued, practically bouncing on her toes. "I fixed the alarm system! Vi said it was flawless!"

"Of course it was," Derek said, his smile growing. "You're amazing, Powder. I never doubted you."

Her cheeks flushed, and she laughed nervously. "I mean, it wasn't that big of a deal..."

"It was," Derek interrupted gently. "You're incredible, Powder. You always have been."

Powder beamed, and for the first time in days, Derek felt a flicker of hope. Maybe he wasn't as much of a burden as he thought.

As the rest of the group joined them, Derek leaned back, listening to their excited chatter. He might not have been there for this job, but he was still part of something bigger—something that gave him a reason to keep fighting for control.

"Ekko should know," Powder said one afternoon, sitting cross-legged on the floor of the Last Drop's back room. She toyed with a small gear in her hands, her expression thoughtful.

Derek, who was seated nearby with his arms crossed, raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because he's part of our family too," Powder said firmly. "And he'd want to help. Plus..." She paused, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.

"Oh no," Derek muttered, already regretting this conversation. "What are you thinking?"

Powder leaned closer, her blue eyes sparkling. "I was thinking we could mess with him a little. You know—show off your scary side."

Derek groaned, shaking his head. "Powder..."

"Come on, Derek!" she whined, tugging on his arm. "It'll be funny! You're always so serious lately. This could be fun!"

Despite himself, Derek found her enthusiasm infectious. He sighed, giving her a reluctant smile. "Fine. But you're explaining everything to him afterward."

Powder grinned triumphantly. "Deal!"

The next evening, Ekko strolled into the Last Drop, his usual easygoing grin plastered across his face. "Hey, Powder!" he called, spotting her near the bar. "Got any new gadgets to show me?"

"Maybe," Powder said with a sly smile. She glanced at Derek, who was lurking in the shadows, waiting for his cue. "But first, there's someone who wants to say hi."

Ekko frowned slightly, his gaze darting around the dimly lit room. "Who?"

Before Powder could answer, a low growl echoed from the shadows. Ekko froze, his grin faltering.

"Powder?" he said cautiously, taking a step back. "What was that?"

The growl deepened, and Derek stepped into the light. His golden eyes glowed brightly, his claws glinting in the dim light. When he bared his fangs, Ekko stumbled back with a yelp.

"What the hell is that?!" Ekko shouted, nearly tripping over a chair.

Derek lunged forward, stopping just short of Ekko with a snarl. "Boo."

Ekko's scream was high-pitched enough to make Powder burst out laughing. She doubled over, clutching her stomach as tears of mirth streamed down her face.

Derek straightened, his glowing eyes fading as his claws and fangs retracted. "Relax, Ekko," he said, unable to keep a smirk off his face.

"Relax?!" Ekko sputtered, pointing at Derek. "You just—what the—what was that?!"

"It was a prank," Powder said between giggles. "And you fell for it. Big time."

"Not cool, Powder!" Ekko grumbled, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward despite himself.

Once Ekko had calmed down—and once Powder had finished laughing—they sat him down in the back room to explain.

"So... you're telling me Derek's, like, part-wolf now?" Ekko asked, his eyebrows raised.

"Not a wolf," Derek corrected, leaning back in his chair. "It's more... complicated than that."

Powder nodded, her expression growing serious. "It started a few weeks ago. Derek drank something—well, fell into something—and it changed him. Now he's stronger, faster, and... well, you saw the glowing eyes and claws."

"And the growl," Ekko added, shuddering slightly. "Don't forget the growl."

Derek sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's not just the powers, though. The full moon messes with me. Makes it harder to stay in control."

"It's been tough," Powder admitted. "But we're helping him figure it out. He's doing better every day."

Ekko studied Derek for a moment, his usual playful demeanor replaced with quiet understanding. "You're still you, though, right?"

Derek hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah. Most of the time."

Ekko leaned back, crossing his arms. "Well, guess that means I've got a scary new friend to brag about. 'My buddy Derek can bench-press a car and scare the crap out of me on command.' Sounds cool, huh?"

Derek chuckled, shaking his head. "Glad you're taking it so well."

"Gotta adapt to the weird, man," Ekko said with a grin. "That's the undercity way."

Powder beamed, relieved that the prank and explanation had gone over so well.

"Just promise me one thing," Ekko added, pointing at Derek. "No more jump scares. My heart can't take it."

"No promises," Derek said, his grin widening.