The room fell into tense silence.
Singed's eyes fred wide, his haending toward Orion as if examining a rare artifact. The sheer iy made Orion's skin crawl.
Silco broke the quiet, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Healing magic? Your current state is supelling proof!" Silco excimed, his expression full of doubt.
Irritation flickered across Orion's face as he replied, "There's a cost to it- for me. I didn't want it discovered and I needed more time." His voice was steady, but a bitter edge lingered.
"You're safe enough now. Show us," Singed said eagerly, his fasation evident as he leaned forward, disregarding Silenag gre.
Silco's gaze returo Orion, nodding.
'It isn't a request, is it? If I don't...' Orion's thoughts trailed off grimly.
"Do you have food?" Orion said, his voice tight. "I told you, it es with a cost. I'm already starving," Orion added.
Silco tilted his head toward the stairs and nodded silently. Though Orion couldn't see whom he was signaling, the message was clear enough.
Siouched his , his brows furrowing. "Ah. The magic draws from your vitality! Fasating..."
When Orion nodded in response, Singed's fingers began tapping his with growiement. "Such traits... rare, even amongst mages. Theories suggest it only happens when the magic itself is too potent. Or perhaps when the wielder cks trol."
Orioated, his gaze dropping down to his wounds. He had already decided the order of healing ba the Piltover jail- his abdomen, leg, side, and finally any smaller cerations. The problem was the pany.
Silco's voice cut through Orion's hesitation, low and taunting.
"Don't be afraid," Silarked with a knowing smirk. "You've already e this far. Don't let fear drag you back to weakness."
------------------------
Protests and riots erupted after news of the Last Drop i broke, the news spreading like wildfire. Enforcers were forced to evacuate as furious residents actively huhem down, seeking vengeance for their brutality.
Tensions had already been simmering for some time, barely kept in check by the Enforcers' heavy haactics. But now, that was gone.
Along the main road Enforcers set up a perimeter, retreating street by street, withdrawing their forces as the riots intensified. Residents from every er began joining the uprising, seizing the opportunity to fight back.
At first, it was viewed as minor u- some isoted groups causing trouble, manageable for the Enforcers. But deep into the evening, the u grew untrolble.
On the Progress Bridge, Enforcers stood in formation, their rifles drawn with grim anticipation of further escation.
Triumphant cheers erupted as the Enforcers were finally forced from the Entresol level. People were celebrating arm-in arm, the sed taste of victory in their lifetimes sihe previous rebellion!
Vander and Benzo remained unseen- at first. But when they finally emerged, gaus soaked in blood, they led the downtrodden and fotten from both Sump aresol with grim determination. Echoes of old ts rose from the crowd.
'Oh do not despair children of the underground,
For the old hound has taken up his cws once more
And with a vengeance, he will cull the arrogant sheep once more'
---------------------
"Vander, stop this. Before more lives are lost."
All activities betweewo sides of the river were suspended- no trade, no travel for work, nothing. Ships awaiting passage through the al were on standby, their crews guarding the vessels in case rioters attempted to take advantage of the chaos.
Uhe harsh gre of floodlights ress Bridge, Enforcers stood with guns drawn behind professionally built barricades and reinforced onry. Opposite them, an angry mob pressed against makeshift defenses of wood aal sheets, shouting and raging with defiant fury.
Vander and Greyson stood face-to-face, their expressions dark and tense. her yielded. her blihe weight of this standoff, the sequences, hung heavy between them.
Vander's gaze flicked past Greyson, taking in the more professional soldiers lined behind her, before returning to meet Greyson's gaze.
"You should train your boys better," Vander said, restraining his anger behind a low voice.
"Marcus will be behind bars," Greysoiated, gesturing to the mob behind him. "The lockdown ends. No more barricades. We'll put out warrants instead and hahis the right way."
"It sounds too good to be true," Vander answered skeptically. "Does the cil know of this?"
Greyson shook her head. "No. Not yet."
"Then your word means nothing," Vander replied. Sighing, he extended his gau fist with an upward gesture. "I uand yood nature Greyson. Trust me, I didn't want this either."
His gaze hardened, voice tightening. "But we both know this falls on the cil."
"Then give me time, Vander," Greyson pleaded, her gaze softening. "At least until tomorrow evening, so we talk this out on both sides. I doubt many on your side truly want to die."
Vander growled, "Plenty are willing to sacrifice themselves for what topside has done. Was st time not enough proof?"
Falling silent, Greyson could only shake her head iant aowledgement. An agreement seemed close when Vander broke the quiet with a sharp demand.
"Return Orion to us as well," Vander said firmly.
Greyson froze, hesitating as her gaze returo Vander's gre. "He did nothing wrong. Everyone knows that."
A long pause followed. Greyson's expression wavered- hesitance, grief, frustration swirling as she spoke.
"Orion's dead, Vander."
The words seemed to knock the breath from him, his face falling as grief took hold. 'What am I going to tell this kids?' The thought echoed in his mind.
"Or at least, that's what the paperwork says." Greyson's voice tradicted itself with uainty.
Vander gritted his teeth, head snapping up at Greyson as his gaurembled at his sides. "Show me the body."
Greyson shook her head. "The body crossed the river already. It... it shouldn't have processed so quickly." She hesitated, gng away.
"Are you suggesting foul py?"
She shook her head with uainty, her aowledging or denying it. "I'll show you the papers. Vander, I cared for him too. He was a good kid..."
