Chapter Text
In the sprawling metropolis known as the Twin Cities, Piltover and Zaun stood as two halves of the otherwise prestigious city. Even so, the two halves couldn’t have been more different.
Sure, they formed one vast city, but it was divided by class and wealth. Piltover gleamed on the heights above, a city of innovation, affluence, and opportunity. Here, the streets were lined with well-kept buildings, homes for a well-off middle class and even greater luxury for the elite. Wealth circulated easily in Piltover, fueling growth and innovation, and its residents had a sense of stability, even privilege.
In stark contrast lay Zaun, the underbelly of the city. Located in the lower grounds, below Piltover’s golden towers, Zaun’s was a district shrouded in shadows, only lit by flickering neon signs and street lamps that rarely seemed to work.
It was known as the “poor district” - a fitting name for the true underclass of the Twin Cities. Here, work was scarce, and life was hard. Many inhabitants had no choice but to turn to the district’s dangerous underground economy. For most, survival meant choosing between theft, deals with the local gangs, or else it would mean a slow, grinding starvation. Without money or connections, dreams in Zaun rarely turned into anything but desperation.
Yet, even in Zaun, there were pockets of refuge. Vander Lane’s bar was one of those rare places where the two cities mixed, sitting close to the border between Piltover and Zaun.
The bar was popular with all sorts: dockworkers, guards, even the occasional citizen from Piltover. Vander himself, a strong, warm-hearted man with a weathered face, was known to most people in Zaun as a protector, especially to those without a family to call their own.
Vi Lane was one of those people. Ten years old and fiercely loyal to the man who had taken her in. She owed her life to Vander, for everything he’d done for her. He had become her surrogate father after her parents’ tragic accident five years ago, a dark day she rarely spoke of.
Now, she shared his bar, his home with her two brothers, Mylo and Claggor, boys who were both a pain and a comfort. Though they squabbled often, the three of them had become a family under Vander’s roof, sharing meals, chores, and dreams that might otherwise feel impossible in Zaun.
For Vi, this life was as close to a “jackpot” as she could imagine. A safe place to sleep, a family who protected her, and food on her plate daily. These sorts of things were a luxury for any child in Zaun.
Even so, with its hardships, Zaun was home. Vi had learned to survive here, even to love its gritty, dangerous streets. To her, the Twin Cities were a world of opposites, and while she lived in the shadows of Zaun, she knew that as long as Vander and her family were there, she’d never feel alone. Never feel scared.
“You alright there, kiddo?”
Vi jolted, blinking herself back to reality as she noticed Vander’s eyes, warm but questioning, set on her.
“Oh, yeah. Sorry,” she said, hopping down from her perch on the counter. “I… kinda zoned out, I guess.” She busied herself with the nightly routine, pulling chairs off the floor and setting them back on the tables. “Was just thinking about… y’know, when you took me in.” Her voice softened as she spoke.
Vander gave a small nod, one of those understated gestures he was so good at. “Almost five years now,” he said, his eyes crinkling as he scratched his beard with one hand and pulled out his old pipe with the other.
Vi grinned at that. Vander was steady as clockwork, down to his pipe and his perfect memory for dates. She was about to make a playful comment when a faint sound made her pause, her hand frozen on the last chair she was pulling up.
It was a strange noise, faint at first, a distant, otherworldly whistle that didn’t belong in the quiet of the night. Her eyes drifted over to Vander, whose brows had drawn together as he lit his pipe, his own gaze flickering toward the source of the sound.
“What was that?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Before Vander could reply, the whistle grew louder, building into a roar. It sounded like something ripping through the very air, growing closer until, with an earsplitting crash, something struck the alley behind the bar. The walls shuddered, glasses rattling on their shelves as the ground seemed to pulse beneath them.
Vi’s eyes went wide as her heart pounded. She instinctively moved toward the back door, but Vander’s hand shot out, steady and firm on her shoulder. “Stay here, Vi. I’ll check it out.”
“Hell no!” she shot back, determination hardening her voice. She met his gaze, her own fierce and unyielding. “I’m going with you.”
Vander let out a heavy sigh, but he knew better than to argue with her. He took a deep breath, tucked his pipe away, and moved toward the back door, Vi close at his side. As they reached the door, he slowed, easing it open just enough to peek into the alley.
The air was thick with smoke and the sharp smell of scorched metal. In the center of the alley lay a small, dark shape, half-buried in a crater of rubble and twisted metal. It gleamed faintly under the alley’s weak streetlight, almost like something from another world.
Vander squinted into the smoky haze as he pushed the back door open, his gaze fixed on the strange metal object embedded in the alley floor. Whatever this thing was, it had made a mess - scattered debris, cracked pavement, even a small crater beneath it.
Behind him, Vi slipped through the doorway, her brow furrowed in confusion as she took in the wreckage. The crash had likely been loud enough to wake half the block, but the alley was quiet, save for the faint creaking of metal cooling.
Vi’s mind raced as she stared at the object, her thoughts a whirl of questions. It looked unlike anything she’d ever seen, nothing from the streets of Zaun or even from the far-off lands she’d read about online. It had a sleek, alien quality to it, the kind of thing she might imagine falling from space.
“Could it really be…?” she murmured, but before she could take another step, Vander’s large hand held her back.
“Stay put,” he said, his voice a low, cautious rumble. “I’ll take a look first.”
Vi swallowed her protests, giving a reluctant nod. She knew better than to argue with Vander when his tone was like that. Watching him approach the object, she noticed just how large it was - about half his size, maybe a bit more. Steam rose from its surface in lazy tendrils, the metal still hot from its descent, though it had settled enough that he could get close.
Just as Vander was about to signal Vi that it was safe, a sharp hiss cut through the air. He froze, his gaze snapping back to the capsule as a hatch began to open with a creak. The steam thickened, billowing out in a wave that smelled faintly of burned metal and strange chemicals. Vander’s eyes widened as he caught a glimpse of something inside, something small, almost curled up.
“What in the world…” he breathed, and before he could stop her, Vi was at his side, her own eyes wide with shock.
Inside the capsule lay a child. Just a little girl, no older than five. She looked fragile, her limbs thin and her skin a ghostly pale, almost as if she’d never seen sunlight. Her clothes were strange, some kind of shimmering fabric that clung to her small frame, and her expression was eerily calm despite the crash. But it was her hair that left them both speechless - a wild mane of bright, electric blue that seemed to glow faintly in the dim light of the alley. What’s more were the girl’s eyes, a bright glowing purple color glancing back at the two. Not a natural eye color, that was certain.
Vi’s mouth fell open as she stared, her voice barely above a whisper. “Her… her hair… her eyes…”
Vander glanced at Vi, seeing the astonishment reflected in her eyes. For a moment, he didn’t know what to do, caught between the surreal sight before him and the tugging instinct to protect. Cautiously, he knelt down beside the capsule, his voice soft as he tried to speak to the girl.
“Hey… are you alright?”
The little girl’s head tilted to the side, a cascade of tangled, electric-blue hair spilling over one shoulder as she regarded Vander and Vi with an expression of curious bewilderment. Her glowy magenta eyes seemed to study them, as though trying to decipher something about these strange people who had discovered her.
When she spoke, her voice was soft, carrying an unfamiliar rhythm, her words rolling out in fluid sounds that had no recognizable structure - like nothing Vi had ever heard.
Vander’s brow furrowed, mirroring the blue-haired girl’s expression of confusion. He glanced at Vi, who looked equally bewildered.
“That’s… not a language on Earth, is it?” Vi muttered, uncertainty evident in her voice. She hadn’t exactly learned much about foreign languages in school, but she’d heard enough to know this was like nothing from anywhere she’d read about.
Vander shook his head, his voice calm but resolute. “No. No, I don’t think it is.” He stayed in his crouched position, watching the small girl with a sense of wonder and a hint of protectiveness. She was so young, and something about her vulnerable state tugged at him deeply. Alone, she’d be at the mercy of the harsh streets of Zaun… and it wasn’t hard to imagine what might happen if she were found by someone else.
Ignoring Vi’s worried glances, he slowly extended a hand into the pod. The girl looked at it for a moment, studying his rough, calloused hand with an intense curiosity. But she didn’t shrink away or show fear; in fact, her eyes seemed to brighten, as though she understood, not his words, but the kindness in his gesture. Vander took that as a good sign, his voice softening, steady and parental.
“I know you can’t understand me,” he said gently, keeping his tone warm and calm. “But you’re safe now. You’ll be safe with us. I promise.”
As if sensing his reassurance, the girl’s face broke into a hesitant, bright smile. She reached out with her small, fragile fingers, gripping his hand with surprising strength as she pulled herself from the wreckage of the pod.
Vander let out a gentle chuckle, steadying her with his hands before lifting her carefully, cradling her small, scrawny frame. She weighed next to nothing, a reminder of how thin and frail she looked, as though she hadn’t eaten in days.
“There we are,” he murmured, smiling at her as she looked up at him with a hint of relief. His heart ached a little at the sight of her, so small and seemingly lost.
But then, Vi’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Uh… Vander?” Her voice was softer, though an uneasy edge slipped in. She pointed a finger toward the pod.
He followed her gaze, squinting as he saw a word stenciled on the inside of the capsule in bold, familiar lettering:
‘JINX’