Arcane: Mage from Noxus

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Warehouse 2 was nestled in Zaun's grimy industrial district—the last place anyone from Zaun would willingly venture.

The air reeked of an acrid, choking stench, a mix of lingering chemical fumes and rotting refuse.

Industrial waste lay abandoned in heaps, remnants of a past that Zaun would rather forget.

If it weren't for Piltover's meddling and the iron grip of the Chem Barons, no one in Zaun would set foot in these factories, let alone work in them.

Silco stood in front of the dilapidated building, his sharp eyes scanning his surroundings. A strange sense of nostalgia tugged at him as he gazed at the crumbling structure.

This was where it had all begun.

Warehouse 2. The gift he'd given Viktor when the man first descended into Zaun, seeking change.

It was also where he'd spilled Vander's blood that fateful night. The memory was sharp, a wound that never truly healed. He hadn't expected to return here, of all places.

Clap, clap... clap, clap.

The sound of scattered footsteps echoed behind him, breaking the silence.

Silco turned around, his expression cold and unreadable, as a gang of scrappy-looking individuals approached him.

The leader strutted at the front, a smug grin plastered on his face.

He wore a tattered yellow-and-black coat, his metallic jaw gleaming under the faint light.

Half of his head was shaved, the other half matted with greasy hair.

"Silco, all by yourself?"

The Chem Baron leading the group spoke with a tone heavy with mockery, barely concealing the glee in his voice.

Silco rolled his mismatched eye, its strange, murky hue glinting faintly. His gaze swept over the group before settling on the Baron.

"Finn," Silco said, his voice smooth yet cutting.

"I thought you wouldn't be foolish enough to try something like this."

"Foolish?" Finn sneered, twirling a lighter in his hand, the flame flickering as he spoke.

"Ever since you backed Viktor, all you've left is Sevika and a few scraps. That's hardly an empire."

Silco's face remained impassive as he turned his gaze to another group that had appeared nearby.

At their head was a woman with short, fiery red hair, flanked by several armored enforcers shimmering with Zaunite tech enhancements.

"Renni," Silco said, his tone quieter but no less commanding.

"Are you planning to follow him too?"

The woman averted her eyes, unable to meet Silco's penetrating gaze.

"Silco," she murmured reluctantly, "if you agree to take Viktor out of the picture, we'll follow your lead again."

Finn's impatience flared. His fingers toyed restlessly with the lighter, the clicking growing faster as his irritation mounted.

He glared at Silco, his voice dripping with venom.

"I thought you were supposed to be smart. A visionary is someone who can see what others can't. But instead, you've led us into ruin. You're asking us to risk everything for Jinx! Do you think we're that stupid?"

More figures emerged from the shadows, other Chem Barons bringing their muscle to stand behind Finn.

His confidence swelled as his numbers grew, and he jabbed a finger in Silco's direction.

"Silco, I just don't get it. What have you gained by propping up Viktor in Zaun? We're bleeding coin. Factories and mines are being shut down left and right. And for what? So Viktor can play savior with his fancy tech while the rest of us rot?"

Finn's grin widened as he leaned closer.

"Look at yourself. You were a legend, once—a shrewd entrepreneur in Piltover. Now, your reputation's in tatters, and the fortune you built is funding Viktor's so-called 'progress.' Tell me, Silco—are you cheap or plain blind?"

Silco stood in silence, his expression as still as stone, waiting for Finn to finish his tirade. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and sharp, cutting through the air like a knife.

"Are you done?"

Finn faltered under Silco's gaze for a moment, but his bravado returned quickly.

"You lot are pathetic," Silco said coldly, gesturing toward the Barons and their lackeys.

"Take a deep breath. Smell the air around you."

His words were unexpected, but the group hesitated, some of them unconsciously inhaling.

"Do you remember how it used to be?" Silco continued.

"The stench of chemicals, the choking fumes that clawed at your throat, the rot that seeped into your very bones. That was Zaun before Viktor's progress."

The air around them now was noticeably cleaner, a small miracle of Viktor's innovations.

Fresh, breathable air—a luxury Zaun hadn't known for decades.

"You call this ruin?" Silco's voice rose slightly, his mismatched eye glinting with fire.

"You'd trade fresh air, dignity, and a future for a few more pieces of coin? No wonder you're clinging to scraps like Finn. You're rats, all of you."

The silence that followed was suffocating.

"Yes, you were great once," Finn sneered, snapping his lighter shut with a sharp click.

"But you're old now, Silco. After we kill Viktor, I'll honor you—I'll have a statue of you erected in the Lanes, with your 'special' eye set into its socket. Just like you did with Vander."

The mocking grin on Finn's face deepened as the iron-armored hulking warriors behind him surged forward, their weapons gleaming under the dim industrial lights.

Silco stood still, hands in his coat pockets, his shoulders trembling faintly. Yet his expression remained calm, and his heterochromatic eye glinted with unwavering confidence.

"You haven't forgotten the fundamentals of survival in Zaun, have you?" Silco's voice was calm but cutting, like the edge of a blade.

"You come in together, and you'll leave together. Careful now."

His gaze swept across the assembled Barons, his words sharper than any knife:

"I pulled you from the filth once. Don't forget—I can throw you right back in."

BOOM!

The doors to Warehouse 2 burst open with an earth-shaking crash. The sound echoed across the industrial yard, drawing all eyes to the opening.

From the dark interior emerged a battalion of robots.

They were stocky, their frames bulkier than most Zaunites, with hextech gems glowing ominously in their chests. The cold, blue light bathed the scene in an eerie glow.

"What... what is this?" Finn stammered, momentarily frozen by the sight.

But he quickly turned his glare back to Silco, gritting his teeth.

"Ignore those iron clunkers! Kill Silco first! Don't hold back!"

At his command, the enforcers and armored warriors surged toward Silco.

The nearest warrior raised a massive blade, the edge glinting menacingly as it came crashing down.

Silco didn't move. He merely tilted his head slightly, watching the blade descend.

It stopped—mere centimeters from his forehead.

The armored warrior jerked back, yanked away with impossible force. A gleaming chain had latched onto him, dragging him back to the warehouse.

CRASH!

One of the robots swung a massive iron fist, smashing the warrior's helmet into a twisted wreck. Blood sprayed, and the lifeless body crumpled to the ground.

The other robots moved with mechanical precision. Their hooks latched onto the Barons' men with unerring accuracy, dragging them into their crushing grip.

One after another, the would-be attackers fell, their screams quickly silenced by the unforgiving iron fists.

Finn's face turned ashen as he watched his forces crumble. D

esperation overtook him. He threw his lighter to the ground, yanking a pistol from his belt.

Without hesitation, he aimed at Silco and fired.

BANG!

The bullet never reached its target. A robot stepped forward, intercepting the shot with its thick, armored fist. The impact clanged loudly, sparks flying as the bullet ricocheted harmlessly.

Finn roared in frustration, emptying his clip at Silco. Bullets tore through the air, but none of them reached him.

The hextech gem on the lead robot's chest flared suddenly, its glow intensifying.

Then came the discharge—a massive electric shockwave that burst outward in all directions.

The Barons, their enforcers, and even the bullets still in flight were obliterated in an instant.

Finn's body spasmed violently before crumpling to the ground, lifeless.

Silco stood untouched at the center of the carnage, watching as the battlefield fell silent. His face betrayed no emotion, though a faint flicker of something—sorrow, perhaps—passed through his eyes.

For years, he had poured his resources into Shimmer, betting on its potential to fuel Zaun's rise.

Yet Viktor had achieved far more with a fraction of the time and investment.

He exhaled slowly, his voice a murmur:

"Perhaps I was wrong. We were born to struggle at the bottom, but Zaun will prosper in the hands of a genius like Viktor."

The robots began to clear the field, dragging the corpses into the warehouse. Silco watched them silently before turning to the lead automaton, which stood a mere two meters away.

Its hextech core still glowed faintly as it emitted a static-laden voice:

"Blitz… follow… Creator… order. Command… Silco."

Silco stared at the machine, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

"Blitzcrank. I believe that's what Viktor called you."

The robot repeated, its words halting but clear enough.

Silco tilted his head, studying the automaton.

"Tell me... were you once human, or are you just a machine?"

He fell silent, almost as though asking himself the same question.

Silco had long considered augmenting himself with hextech—a path Viktor had perfected—but something about it always felt... wrong.

Perhaps it was the sting of defeat. He had already lost Zaun's future to Viktor's vision.

He wasn't ready to lose himself entirely, not yet.

For a moment, Silco simply stood there, surrounded by the aftermath of the battle, his thoughts as heavy as the air in Zaun had once been.