Arcane Enforcer's Pet Chapter 2 - Hunted

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Zelia crouched in the shadows of an alleyway, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she tried not to squeeze the loaf of bread in her arms so tightly that she crushed it... and she winced, realizing that she was kneeling against a grimy wall adorned with a poster her own face, eyes wide with fear, mouth twisted in defiance. The words "Wanted: Alive" loomed large above her image, a stark reminder of her predicament. The Undercity’s labyrinthine passages were practically designed to confuse and disorient, but tonight, they felt like a trap meant to catch her rather than a maze to protect her. Every corner she turned, every creaking board, every distant echo of footsteps—they all threatened to reveal her hiding spot.

A noise from around the corner made her freeze. Footsteps, heavy and purposeful. Her mind raced, calculating possibilities. She could try to slip past them, but the risk of being seen was too high. She could hide deeper in the alley, but that might trap her if they decided to search more thoroughly. Her fingers itched for a weapon, but she’d ditched anything that could be traced back to her long ago.

The footsteps grew closer, and she could hear muttered conversations in the guttural tones of Zaun’s roughest inhabitants. Zelia knew these voices—a few of Rasco's thugs, Enforcers that just last week were supposed to protect her as a guild member. Not any longer... and after she had been spotted stealing a loaf of bread, they were the ones who were chasing her down. She clenched her fists, willing herself not to panic. If they found her, it wouldn’t just be about the key. It would be about punishment, retribution, making an example of her.

And she had a pretty good idea how badly that would go.

“Spread out,” one of them growled. “She can’t have gotten far.”

Zelia swallowed hard, her throat dry. She needed to move, to find a place where she could blend in and disappear. The crowd from the night market was thinning, but there were still enough people milling about to provide cover if she could just make it there. She glanced down at her boots, mentally preparing herself for the sprint. Just a short burst of speed, then into the throng. They might not see her in the chaos.

The Vastasya girl burst from the shadows, her boots pounding against the cobblestones as she darted across the market. Her furry tail fluttered behind her, a blur of motion that betrayed her frantic pace... but she didn't make it three paces before the first shout. Almost immediately, one of the thugs was chasing her, his hue and cry cutting through the market like a knife. "There she is! Get her!"

Zelia didn't dare glance back. She channeled every ounce of her Vastayan agility, her body a blur as she darted through the sparse crowd. Her heart pounded in sync with her rapid footsteps, each beat a reminder of the stakes. The market was a chaotic warren of stalls and crates, but Zelia navigated it with the precision of someone who had lived in these shadows all her life.

She leaped over a rickety stall, the wooden planks creaking under her weight before snapping back into place. A somersault carried her through a narrow gap between two towering crates, the rough wood scraping against her skin but failing to slow her down. Merchants shouted in surprise, their wares jostled by her passing, but Zelia paid them no mind. Her focus was laser-sharp, zeroing in on the ventilation system entrance up ahead.

The entrance loomed like a dark promise, its iron grates ajar just enough for her to slip through. Zelia was breathing hard, and her muscles burned with exertion, but she pushed herself harder anyway. She dodged around startled shoppers, their bewildered faces a fleeting blur as she zipped past. Several of them actually tried to grab her... and they weren't Rasco's goons, either. She needed to be quick to avoid them, and soon even more people were chasing her. Zelia vaultedover a stall, and as she did, one hand reached out, snagging a loose piece of fabric hanging from one of the rafters and using it to propel herself forward in a swing over the heads of two more men trying to block her path.

Traitorous bastards.

Behind her, the thugs were relentless. Their heavy footsteps echoed through the market, growing louder with each passing second. Zelia could hear their curses and commands, the urgency in their voices driving her faster. Zelia's tail whipped behind her, a frantic flag of desperation. She ducked under a low-hanging awning, the fabric brushing against her face as she shot underneath. Another leap took her over a stack of crates, the topmost one teetering precariously before crashing to the ground with a thunderous boom loud enough to drown out the thief's labored breaths. It would delay her pursuers... but not for long.

Her eyes locked onto the ventilation entrance, now mere yards away. She could almost taste the freedom waitingon the other side. With a final burst of speed, she sprinted toward it, her fingers reaching out to grasp the cold metal grate. Just as her fingertips brushed the edge, a strong hand clamped down on her tail, yanking her backward with painful force. Zelia gasped in agony as her momentum halted abruptly. She twisted around, kicking out with her free leg, her boot connecting solidly with her attacker's chest. The thug stumbled back, but he didn't release her tail. "Rasco promised the one who brings you in gets to keep you," he snarled at her, breath rancid. "After he finishes teaching you a lesson, that is."

Zelia didn't like that idea much. She didn't hesitate. Spinning around, she aimed for his eyes and raked her nails across the thug’s face as he flinched backwards and away. His grip loosened just enough for her to wrench her tail free. Without a second thought, she leaped into the vent, dropping into the darkness below.

The fall was dizzying, a plummet through darkness stretchinginto eternity. Zelia knew from experience it was a hundred-and-twenty-foot drop... no ladders, no rope, and definitely no nets. The thief's heart pounded in her chest, each beat echoingin her mind like a drumbeat as it rang out her rapid descent towards a lethally sudden stop. The air of the vents rushed past her ears, a howling wind that was loud enough that the Vastaya half thought it was threatening to tear her apart.

Zelia counted... one... two... three... Then her fingers clawed at the sides, desperate for purchase... it was painful, but the fear of hitting the bottom with bone-crushing force provided plenty of motivation. She could feel the cold metal walls of the shaft closing in, their rough edges scraping against her outstretched limbs as she tried to slow herself down, stretching out her arms and legs as wide as she could and pressing them against the sides of the shaft, the friction beginning to bite into her clothing and skin.

"Come on, come on," she muttered through gritted teeth, her voice swallowed by the rushing wind. Each second felt like an hour, each inch of descent a mile. With a desperate cry, she twisted her body, angling herself to maximize contact with the walls. Her muscles screamed in protest, burning with the effort of slowing her fall. The pain in her tail, already throbbing from the earlier assault, intensified, a constant reminder of her vulnerability. Then, finally... just when she thought she couldn't endure another moment... the friction brought her to a stop.

The wolf-like girl hung there, barely moving, dangling in the dark void like a marionette with tangled strings. Zelia hung there for what felt like an eternity, panting, her body trembling with exhaustion and fear. For a moment, she simply breathed, savoring the small victory of survival.

But then reality crashed back in, and she groaned, banging the back of her head against the shaft. She didn't have it anymore. Idiot girl. In her frantic attempt to stop her fall, she had dropped the fucking loaf of bread. The thought hit her like a punch to the gut. She had risked everything—her life, her freedom—for that damn meal... And now it was gone, tumbling down the shaft.

With a groan of frustration, she lowered herself the remaining distance, sliding down the remaining distance before the shaft ended... It wasn't far. She had brought herself to a stop barely ten feet from the end. Her feet splashed down into the pool of water that had accumulated in the tunnel at the bottom... cold and stinking of decay and gods knew what else. She waded through it, searching for the bread, but it was no use. The loaf was soaked through, soggy and ruined, contaminated beyond redemption.

Zelia stared at it, her stomach growling in protest. She was starving, her body aching for sustenance. The bread had been her ticket out of this nightmare, a small comfort in a world of chaos. And now it was gone, just like everything else that mattered.

"Fuck!" she shouted, kicking the water in anger. The ripples spread out, distorting her reflection in the murky depths. She wanted to scream, to cry, to do anything that would release the pent-up frustration boiling inside her. But there was no time for that. She had to keep moving; find a way out of this hellhole before the thugs caught up to her.

With a final, disgusted glance at the ruined bread, Zelia turned away, walking down the ventilation tunnel and leaving the thugs and the market behind.

Zelia tried to stay optimistic about the outcome of her plan. If one of Rasco's thugs put his pistol to her head she would have to admit that, if she didn't count dying or ending up in Stillwater prison, there weren’t many worse ways the Kiramman Heist could have gone.

A small part of the Vastaya thought that was ironic. Her plan had gone perfectly in some ways... she had gotten in, gotten the key, and gotten away. She hadn’t been injured, she hadn’t been caught, and she hadn’t lost it. But on the other hand, every single other detail had gone wrong. Rasco had failed to steal the Kiramman vault. That meant that she couldn't very well sell the key to him. Worse, he needed someone to blame for the heist's failure... and he had seen her there. She was the perfect person to focus the guild's anger on, even if he didn't also want to personally punish her for trying to rip him off.

That meant his entire Thieves Guild was looking for her, hunting through the Undercity for one small, homeless Vastaya. It meant she had few safe places, no friends, no allies, and had to stay constantly on the run.

That would have been bad enough... but it wasn't the limit of how wrong the whole thing had gone, either. The Enforcers knew that the key had gone missing... but that thug Vi had walked in on her being chased by Rasco and his crew. That meant the Enforcers knew that they hadn't stolen it... and that she had. It had been satisfying to throw that in the Enforcers' face then. Satisfying... and stupid. They were out in force... and they knew her face. Her likeness, her canine ears, her blue hair.

Even worse, it was all on the wanted posters they were plastering all over the Undercity... everyone in all of Zaun knew by now that Zelia was a wanted woman, and the kind of reward they could get from turning her in.

Worst of all, too many of her fellow fissure-dwellers seemed all too happy to turn her in. Apparently, an awful lot of those fools still believed in Sevika's dreams of Zaun being a real part of Piltover.

Idiots.

Zelia scoffed at the thought, her breath hitching in her throat. She had seen how people looked at her now—suspicious, greedy, ready to sell her out for a few scraps of coin. The solidarity she once took for granted had evaporated like mist in the harsh light of day.

Zelia pushed through one of the vents, carefully following the route she knew by heart. The metal grating beneath her feet was cold and unforgiving, each step echoing through the narrow passage like a distant bell tolling in the night. The vents were a maze, twisting and turning in ways that could easily disorient even the most seasoned thief. But for Zelia, they were a lifeline—a labyrinth of shadows that could hide her from the world outside.

Yet, they were also dangerous. Gusts of wind raced through her, chemicals dripped down, and you never knew if you were going to run into someone else traveling the vents. It was such a maze that straying from one of the few routes you knew could easily get you so lost you'd never find your way out. That made them not exactly a great place to hide out long term... especially since there was nothing to eat in here.

The tunnels were, however, a good place to hide things. She was far from the only one who had taken advantage of their obscurity. Over the years, countless items had been stashed away in these forgotten passages, hidden from prying eyes. It was unlikely any two people would ever find anything belonging to another. But that didn't stop the temptation to worry about it anyway. Zelia had to remind herself of that constantly. It was a persistent urge to go and check on where she hid the Kiramman key, but that wouldn't accomplish anything but potentially lead someone to it.

Zelia laughed quietly—that, too, was ironic. Two years ago, the Enforcers had used these vents to move through the Undercity in their hunt for Jinx, traveling where no one could find or chase them. The hiding place she had chosen for the key was only safe because the Enforcers didn't have it. If they did, they would once again have the full maps inside the Kiramman vaults, and they might be able to find her down here.

If they had the key, they would be able to get the key.

The thought made her chuckle bitterly, a sound swallowed by the darkness around her. For now, she had to trust that her hiding spot was secure and that the key was safe from Rasco's thugs and Piltover's “finest.”.

Her stomach growled, a low, insistent rumble that echoed through the narrow vent. She had risked everything for that meal, and lost it. Now, she was left with an empty stomach and a growing sense of desperation. Zelia tried to ignore it, clenching her jaw and focusing on the cold metal grating beneath her feet. But... it was getting worse and worse recently, a constant reminder of her dwindling resources. One of the other "fun" parts of being a Vastaya—her accelerated metabolism burning like an inferno—was something she tried to ignore as much as possible. Yet, Zelia knew that she could quite literally starve to death on a diet that would make a human girl her size turn rapidly into a round ball.

She had been holding off as long as she could. Every trip outside the vents was a risk. But it was becoming increasingly clear to Zelia that hiding out and waiting for the heat to die down wasn't sustainable. That wasn’t going to happen before she starved.

The thought gnawed at her... she was being eaten alive by a relentless predator inside of her, one she couldn't escape from. She needed to get the hell out of this city, somewhere where she wouldn't be in constant danger of being arrested by the Enforcers or being raped and murdered by Rasco. That meant she needed money. Lots of it.

Time to take another set of risks.

Zelia continued down the tunnel a little further, her footsteps cascading softly against the metal grating. She followed the route she had memorized, her mind racing with the possibilities and dangers of her plan. Finally, she reached the large, vertical vent that she had filled with bright blue balloons. Their sight brought a grim satisfaction; they were her lifeline, her way out of this mess.

She pushed her way into the vent, her fingers brushing against the smooth surface of the balloons. Each one was tied up with care. s she ran her fingers over a few of them, she felt the familiar texture of the message written on them—the ransom demand, and a request to meet.

Sending a message to the Enforcers without ending up in Stillwater was a delicate task. She needed to arrange a meeting in a way that Rasco wouldn't be able to intercept the message, and that she maintained enough safety that she wouldn't just be throwing herself into manacles. In the end, this was the best she could come up with—a bold, risky move that might just work.

Of course, she didn't expect the Kirammans to actually come and deal in good faith initially. She anticipated they would show up looking for a fight and to arrest her. That didn't matter. She wouldn't be there, just watching. The important part was that they knew her demands. From that point, she could arrange something more concrete, that would give her leverage and a chance at freedom.

Zelia paused a second, her fingers hovering over the balloons. She was balanced at a point of no return. Once she sent this message, they would know that the key was still here, and that she was planning to sell it. If this went bad, she probably would have no choice but to flee town penniless with nothing but the clothes on her back... probably a death sentence for a Vastaya girl without a friend in the world.

The air felt thick with tension, pressing down on her like a suffocating blanket. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. If she did nothing... it would probably end the same. Starvation, capture, or worse—a short, miserable life and a brutal death by Rasco's hand. The thought made her stomach churn, a bitter taste rising in her throat. She couldn't afford to wait any longer; time was running out.

Of course, there was another option... she could give the key to Rasco. If she delivered it to him, then he could be the one to worry about ransoming it to the Kirammans. Of course, she'd get no money from that... but she could probably save her life, trade the key for no longer being marked for death by the thieves guild. It was an insidiously tempting idea, a return to the edge of the status quo... a lifeline in the storm of her predicament.

It would also be a betrayal of everything she had worked for, everything she had risked her life to achieve.

Zelia closed her eyes, the weight of her choices pressing down on her. Each option was a gamble, each path fraught with danger. She could feel the cold metal of the vent beneath her fingertips, a stark contrast to the heat of her internal turmoil. The balloons swayed gently in the draft, their bright blue color mocking her indecision.

What would Jinx have done?

Zelia took a deep breath, steeling herself against the wave of doubt that threatened to overwhelm her. She was done with living on the edge, scraping by with whatever scraps she could find. It was time to be brave, to take control of her destiny—just like Jinx would have done. The thought gave her a surge of determination, a blue flicker of hope in the darkness swamping her.

With a resolute nod, Zelia reached out and pressed the hidden plate holding the balloons in place. The mechanism clicked softly, and within moments, the balloons began to rise. Their bright blue surfaces caught the light as they ascended through the ventilation shaft. They moved swiftly, carried by the current of air flowing upward, disappearing into the darkness above.

Zelia watched them go, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn’t doubt the Enforcers would notice the sudden influx of Jinx Blue balloons emerging from the vents. It was too conspicuous, too eye-catching. With each balloon carrying a message, there was no way they wouldn’t investigate further… and that would lead her demands right into the hands of Caitlyn Kiramman.

As the last of the balloons disappeared into the tunnel and along the route that would lead them out into Piltover, Zelia felt strangely liberated. She was committed now, but it was out of her hands. The Enforcers would come, and when they did, she would be ready. She would face them head-on, just as Jinx had done. For now, all she could do was wait.

Wait and prepare for the storm that was about to descend upon her.

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Zelia's breath was steady, but her heart was racing. Yesterday, she’d thought that attention from the Kirammans couldn't come soon enough. Today, she was having second thoughts about that.

Zelia lay flat on top of a spire building in the fissure, looking down at the meeting place she had meticulously set up. The vastaya woman adjusted the lens of the spyglass, scanning the area below with a practiced eye. The area below buzzed with activity, a chaotic symphony of voices and footsteps weaving a labyrinthine tapestry of potential escape routes. Yet, within this maze of possibilities, Zelia saw only one certainty: the Enforcers were already here.

One of them stood brazenly in the center of the square, waiting... but she wasn't alone. Zelia had expected that. She knew they would come here to arrest her, and they would bring backup hidden throughout the Undercity. She just hadn't counted on them bringing so many. On every rooftop, every alley, every window she looked through, there were more Enforcers. The fissures had been completely swarmed, a relentless tide of blue uniforms and glinting gold and stern faces all waiting to arrest her.

"Damn it," Zelia muttered under her breath, lowering the spyglass and wiping a bead of sweat from her brow. This was more than she had bargained for. Every plan she had devised, every contingency she had considered, hadn’t accounted for this much attention from such a vast array of law enforcement, the horde descending upon her like a dark cloud over the sunlit sky.

She might have gotten a bit more attention than she’d been planning on.

Zelia took a deep breath, trying to calm the rising tide of anxiety in her chest. She had to think, to strategize. Panic would only lead to mistakes, and in a situation like this, one misstep could be fatal. Zelia closed her eyes for a moment, centering herself, focusing on the rhythm of her breathing, the steady thrum of her heart.

She would say this much for the Kiramman bitch... she wasn't too cowardly to come herself. Even from this distance, even through the tangle of wrought iron and stone that made up the Undercity, she could see the woman as she stood in the square, as if waiting for Zelia to show up, eyepatch dark over her missing eye as her remaining one swept over the nearby buildings with a fierce intensity. She wasn't hiding... She stood in the heart of the meeting ground, rifle at her side, ready for a confrontation.

The fact that Caitlyn had shown up personally meant she was taking this seriously. It was a mixed blessing. On the one hand, it made convincing her that Zelia meant business easier; on the other, it meant her margins of error had disappeared. If Zelia was going to pull this off, she needed to get Caitlyn to make the trade with her... without getting arrested and tossed into a cell for the rest of her life or, worse, found by Rasco. She would just have t-

"Hey. Whatcha looking at?"

The voice—coming from the roof behind her—made every single hair on Zelia's tail stick up. She froze for a single heartbeat, her mind racing as she processed the sudden danger. Then, with lightning reflexes honed through countless close calls, Zelia flipped onto her back toward the source of that unwelcome voice.

The spyglass was expensive... by far the most precious, expensive thing she owned. She flung it with all the might she had in her body anyway... But the figure standing over her was faster. The red-haired Enforcer deftly caught the spyglass, her hand closing around it like it had been moving in slow motion. Zelia realized with a sudden flash-bang of adrenaline that it was Vi standing over her.

Of course... the fissure-born Enforcer would be thinking vertically, like anyone else who had lived down here. Vi had been expecting Zelia to be watching from somewhere high up, somewhere strategic... and while Zelia was distracted with the Enforcers below, she had sneakily closed the distance, catching Zelia completely off guard.

Before Vi could react further, Zelia rolled rapidly to the side, desperate to create space between them. The world spun around her as she somersaulted off the tower’s edge, instinct driving her movement. She plummeted into the abyss, the wind rushing past her ears and whipping her scales. Time seemed to stretch, each second an eternity.

The ground rushed up to meet her with terrifying speed, but Zelia didn't panic; she had prepared for this moment. She reached out, turning herself mid-air. Her fingers closed around a thick, sturdy rope that she had meticulously secured earlier, and the rough hemp burned against her palm as she gripped it hard. It tore her hand raw, but the pain was a small price to pay for her escape. The grip turned her descent into a swing, the momentum rapidly sending her over and toward the scaffolding wrapped around the next closest tower.

The world blurred as she swung through the air, the wind howling in her ears. She could see the scaffold of the adjacent building approaching, a dizzying blur of metal and wood. With a final burst of strength, Zelia pulled herself up, her muscles straining under the effort. She barely managed to get a foothold on the edge when the scaffold shook violently beneath her.

Vi had landed heavily on it, having leaped from the other building and sliding down onto this one; taking a different, higher route. The fissure-born Enforcer's agility was as good as any child of the U[ Every other instance hasn't been capitalized, so need to decide which. I think having it this way makes the most sense.]ndercity, her movements fluid and precise. Zelia cursed inwardly, knowing she had underestimated Vi's determination and skill. The red-haired Enforcer stood mere feet away, grey-blue eyes blazing with intensity.

The two women locked eyes, a silent battle of wills playing out between them. "You're not getting away that easily," Vi growled, her voice a low rumble that sent shivers down Zelia's spine. "Not a second time."

The vastaya tightened her grip on the rope, ready to make her next move, but Vi was already closing the distance, her fists clenched for a fight. Then the Enforced lunged for Zelia, her movements a blur of speed and power. Zelia barely had time to react; instinct, more than conscious thought, drove her body into motion. She twisted sideways, feeling the rush of air as Vi’s fist flashed by an inch from her eyes, a mere sliver of distance between flesh and bone. The impact shuddered through the scaffold as a wooden board splintered beneath Vi's strength, causing the frame to groan ominously beneath their weight.

Zelia didn’t dare hesitate. She dodged backward, narrowly escaping another devastating blow. Her reflexes were pushed to their limit, each movement swift and calculated. Despite her efforts though, she wasn’t fast enough to completely evade Vi’s follow-up strike. A brutal punch connected with her midsection, driving the air from her lungs in a harsh exhalation. The force of the impact was staggering; Zelia felt as though she had been struck by one of the beasts charging at full velocity out of the vents. Pain exploded in her gut, radiating outward in waves that threatened to overwhelm her.

Gasping for breath, Zelia fought to keep her feet. Her legs wobbled treacherously, threatening to give way under her. She had faced many adversaries in her life, but few possessed the raw power and relentless determination that Vi had. The vastaya woman braced herself, her muscles trembling to maintain her balance. She'd never been hit like that before, and the realization of just how outmatched she was sent a spike of fear through her.

With a grunt of exertion, Zelia managed to steady herself. But even as she did, she knew the respite would be fleeting. Vi was already advancing again, fists raised, scarred lip curling into a snarl as she fixated on Zelia with an unyielding focus. Zelia swallowed hard, knowing the next few moments would determine her fate.

Zelia slid out of the way of Vi's next punch, moving frantically. She barely registered the sensation of her feet skidding across the wooden planks of the scaffold before she pushed off with all her strength, launching herself toward another platform on the opposite side of the alley. The distance was perilous, but Zelia had no choice; staying put meant certain capture.

Her heart pounded in her ears as she soared through the air, the ground far below a dizzying blur. She didn't try to climb this one... instead, sliding down the railing, Zelia used it to slow her fall to something just barely safe. It almost wasn't fast enough. She felt the rush of wind behind her, and then another heavy impact through the metal—Vi had leaped just a few feet from her. Zelia cursed under her breath, pulling herself up with a surge of adrenaline. She couldn't stay here; Vi was too close, too relentless.

Zelia scrambled down from platform to platform, her mind racing almost as fast as her feet. She was used to being the most agile person in any room, her vastaya heritage giving her an edge over almost anyone. But this traitorous Enforcer bitch had grown up doing this just the same way she had. Zelia had held onto a distant hope that Vi had lost the knack for it, that years away from the fissures and city patrols had dulled her skills. Unfortunately, it appeared that was far from the case.

Zelia's mind raced with a torrent of fury and resentment as she darted across the platforms. She thought about Vi, the woman who had once been a symbol of hope for the Undercity—a child of Vander, the legendary leader who had tried to bring prosperity to their fractured home. Zelia had been just a kid when Vander ruled, but his message had resonated deeply within her. He’d envisioned a future where the Undercity thrived, where its people were united and strong. And Vi, with her fiery spirit and unyielding resolve, should have been one of those to carry that vision forward.

Instead, Vi had turned her back on everything Vander stood for. She had sided with Piltover, donned the blue uniform of the Enforcers, and hunted down those who still believed in Vander's dream. Jinx, the wild rebel whose defiance once lit up the dark alleys of the Undercity, had become her target... until she died. Some whispered that Vi had even killed her sister in her relentless pursuit of Piltover's "justice."

The betrayal cut deep, and it infuriated Zelia to no end... But as much as she seethed, Zelia knew she couldn't beat Vi in a straight fight. The Enforcer was too strong, too fast, her movements honed by years of training and experience. Zelia's agility gave her an edge, but it was vanishingly small, and not enough to outmaneuver Vi completely. She had to get away and find another way to achieve her goal without getting caught or killed.

With a surge of determination, Zelia leaped to the next platform, her heart pounding in her chest. She could hear Vi close behind, of her footsteps thundering through the scaffolding. Vi landed gracefully beside her. Zelia could see the determination in her eyes, the scathing intensity mirroring her own. There was no time to think, no time to plan. It was all reflex now, all raw survival instinct. Zelia darted forward, her feet barely touching the ground as she leaped to yet another platform. Zelia's mind raced, searching for any possible escape route, any hidden path that might lead her to safety.

Swinging from one platform to another, Zelia's thoughts were a whirlwind of frustration and regret. Vi stayed right behind her, her red hair flying as she matched Zelia's every move. Zelia's heart sank; if she didn't find a way out soon, it was over. The thought sent a shiver down her spine. She shoved it down.

Zelia's breath came in ragged gasps as she continued her frantic flight. She needed to make it back to one of the vents; they were her lifeline, her only hope of escaping Vi's relentless pursuit. The thought of making the ransom work seemed almost laughable now, given the danger she was in, but regrouping and figuring something out was all she could do.

She scanned the rooftops, searching for the nearest vent, still a dozen feet away when disaster struck. Vi's hand shot out like lightning, grabbing a fistful of Zelia's hair. The sudden stop sent a jolt of pain through Zelia's scalp, and her momentum threatened to rip her hair out by the roots. She gasped, clutching at her head, as Vi yanked her backward.

Vi spun, using Zelia's weight against her. The vastaya woman hit the nearby wall with bone-jarring force. The impact knocked the wind out of her. Zelia’s lip split open, warm blood trickling down her chin. Stars danced before her eyes as Vi's voice rang out, sharp and commanding. "Stop moving!"

Desperate, Zelia's hand darted for the knife at her belt. Her fingers closed around the hilt, but before she could draw it, Vi's hand slammed into hers with brutal precision. The knife flew from her grasp, skittering across the ground like a ringing bell. Zelia's heart sank as she watched the shadows swallow it.

Vi's grip tightened and she slammed Zelia against the wall again, her face inches from the vastaya's. "I said stop!" she growled, her fierce tone brooking no argument

Zelia's defiance flared, igniting a fresh bought of strength as she thrashed against Vi's iron grip. She twisted her body, trying to break free, but Vi's hold cemented her in place. The Enforcer pressed the side of Zelia's face flat against the cold, rough stone of the building, her voice a low, dangerous whisper. "Give me that key," she snarled. "Now!"

Zelia's lungs felt like they were on fire, but her spirit remained unbroken. "Traitor!" she cursed back at Vi, her words laced with venom. "Vander would have spit on you if he saw what you've become!"

Vi's eyes narrowed, a flicker of something—anger, pain, or both—crossing her features. "You have no idea what you're talking about," she snapped, her voice tight with suppressed emotion. "You don't know the first thing about Vander, and you have no idea what I've sacrificed."

Zelia snarled out a furious laugh, words dripping with contempt. "Oh, please. I know more than enough. Do you really think your daddy would be impressed that you killed your sister and betrayed everything both of you stood for just to go and lick Enforcer cunt?"

For a moment, Vi went rigidly still. The words hung heavy in the air, the air humming with electricity. Then the Enforcer's grip on her hair tightened, drawing a gasp from Zelia’s lips, and she shoved forward again. It felt like Vi was trying to grind her into the stone. "You don't know anything about me," she growled, her voice trembling with barely contained rage. "You don't know what it took to protect the Undercity. A thief wouldn't care about anyone but herself!"

Zelia's laughter turned bitter, her eyes blazing with fury. "Protect us? Help us? I don't think we can survive any more of your help." She tasted blood on her tongue from her split lip, and the vastaya spat it out. "You sold your soul, Vi. And for what? A badge? A uniform? You traded everything you were supposed to care about just to become one of them."

For a moment, Vi froze, trembling with rage. Zelia's words had clearly struck a nerve, but before she could respond, a heavily breathing woman carrying a rifle in a ready position stepped into the alley. Zelia's eyes widened as she recognized Caitlyn, the former Commander of the Enforcers. The fact that Caitlyn had almost managed to keep up with her and Vi's frantic chase was both impressive and terrifying for someone born with a silver spoon up her ass.

"You got her?" Caitlyn asked, her good, cerulean eye staring down at the pinned thief. Her voice was steady, but a hint of exhaustion painted her breath.

"Yeah, I got her," Vi said, her voice flat with forced calm. She tightened her grip on Zelia's hair, ensuring the vastaya couldn't escape.

"Murderer!" she spat, her voice echoing off the alley’s walls. The sight of Caitlyn—fucking Caitlyn, Piltie-Princess, murderer—laced Zelia’s eyes with furious venom. "Do you get off on making more orphans like me?" She twisted her head back and forth, trying to get to a point where she could see both women at once. "Is this the one, Vi? The one you abandoned us for? What's so fucking special about her cunt that it's worth so much more than your own people?"

Caitlyn stared for a second, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, she cocked one eyebrow. "This one certainly has a vicious mouth on her, doesn't she?" she remarked, her tone cool and detached.

Zelia's fury erupted in a torrent of curses aimed directly at Caitlyn. "You think you can just waltz in here and take me down? You think you can arrest me and everything will be fine?" she snarled. "You don't know what you're dealing with!"

Vi's patience snapped. With a swift, brutal motion, she yanked Zelia's hair hard enough to make the vastaya cry out in pain, then threw her to the ground with a force that knocked the wind out of her. The impact was jarring, sending a wave of agony through Zelia's body as she crumpled onto the cold, unforgiving stone.

Before Zelia could catch her breath, Vi was on her, securing cuffs around her wrists with practiced efficiency. The metal bit into her skin, pinning her arms behind her back and rendering her helpless. Zelia struggled against the restraints, but each movement met with a tightening of the cuffs that sent fresh waves of pain coursing through her.

Caitlyn knelt down, bringing herself almost to eye level with the pinned vastaya. Her expression was calm, but there was an undercurrent of tension in her voice as she asked, "Where did you take my mother's key, thief?"

Zelia glared up at her, defiance burning in her eyes. "Go fuck yourself," she spat, her voice ragged from exertion and pain.

For a moment, there was silence, the only sound Zelia's ragged breathing. Then she spoke again, her voice loaded with angry determination. "I already told you," she swore. You'll never get it back. Not unless you let me go... and pay me, like I said."

Caitlyn let out a small, shocked laugh, her voice tinged with disbelief. "You really think you're in a position to negotiate?" she asked, her eyebrow arched in amusement and skepticism.

"I know how Piltover 'negotiates' with the Undercity," she retorted, her voice dripping with contempt. "This isn't a negotiation. This is an ultimatum."

Caitlyn's smile faded, replaced by a steely resolve. She leaned closer, eye narrowing. "And what exactly are you proposing?"

Zelia did her best to ignore the pain from her restraints and look tough. "You will have to pay me ten thousand silvers," she said firmly, "and let me leave the city. Or you'll never see your precious key again."

Vi and Caitlyn looked at each other over the pinned vastaya woman. Zelia wished she knew what was passing between them, how much more they said to one another with their eyes than with words. Caitlyn broke the silence first. "That's an absurd sum," she said primly. "You're out of your mind."

Zelia's lips curled into a bitter smile. "Maybe. But it's the only way you get your key back. And you want that key more than you want to see me rot in a cell."

Vi curled her fingers in Zelia's hair, making her wince. "You're playing a dangerous game, thief," Vi hissed. You really think you can outsmart us?"

Zelia met Vi's furious gaze with cool, steely resolve. "I don't need to outsmart you. I just need to stay quiet. If you kill me, you'll never find it."

Again, the two women traded a look. "What do you think?" Caitlyn asked her partner, eye narrowing as she studied Vi's reaction.

Vi considered for a second, her brow furrowing as she weighed their options. "Stillwater isn't going to be safe," she said finally, her tone quiet and measured. "The guards are corrupt as shit. If the Thieves Guild is after her, they can reach her. If they want revenge, they'll just gut her." She glanced down at Zelia, who glared back with unyielding defiance. "And she's right about one thing... we need her alive. If we want to keep her that way and get the key, we can’t risk taking her there."

Caitlyn nodded in agreement, her expression thoughtful. "I know just the place," she said confidently. “We can take her there. It'll give us time to figure out our next move."

Vi's eyes softened slightly as she considered Caitlyn's suggestion. "Alright," she conceded, her grip on Zelia's cuffs relaxing. "But we need to move fast. The longer we stay here, the more chance we attract the wrong kind of attention.”

Caitlyn stood up, her movements gracefully precise. "Agreed," she said, glancing around to ensure they were alone. "Let's get her back to the estate. We can deal with her so-called 'ultimatum' once we're secure."

Vi's fingers dug into the vastaya's arms as she hoisted her up. The Enforcer's strength was undeniable; Zelia felt like a ragdoll in her grasp, her feet momentarily dangling helplessly off the ground. Vi's other hand remained tangled in Zelia's blue hair, yanking her head back with a force that made the vastaya wince.

"You think you can just run your mouth and get away with it?" Vi growled, her voice low and menacing. "We're not done talking, you and me..."

Zelia’s muscles strained, but she couldn't break free. Vi’s hold was like iron, the Enforcer’s face just inches away, her steel-blue gaze threatening to bore a hole through Zelia. The vastaya could feel the heat radiating off the Enforcer's body, a stark contrast to the cold metal of the cuffs biting into her wrists. The thief stumbled under the weight of her restraints, but the trio moved swiftly through the alley, their footsteps echoing against the cold, stone walls as they made their way toward the safety—for them—of Piltover up above.

"And I promise you one thing, you venomous little brat,” Vi hissed into Zelia’s ear, the heat of her breath making Zelia shudder helplessly. “By the time I'm done, you aren't going to be saying shit about licking Enforcer cunt..."

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