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The crowd outside The Last Drop was frozen in a state of collective shock. In Zaun, power wasn't just held; it was enforced through fear, chemicals, and shadows. To see a single man—the legendary "Jax" with his iconic lamppost—walk up and dismantle a Shimmer Warrior like he was swatting a fly broke something in the local psyche. The aura of Silco's invincibility was crumbling in real-time.
Chen prepared to push through the doors, his hand tightening on the iron shaft of his weapon, but Powder stepped forward. Her movements were deliberate, her eyes fixed on the neon sign that had flickered above her childhood nightmares.
"I hope this time, I can do it myself," she said, her voice devoid of its usual manic edge. "I want to end all of this on my own."
Chen looked at her—really looked at her. She wasn't the crying girl in the rain anymore, nor was she the chaotic ghost haunting Piltover's towers. She was a daughter of Zaun reclaiming her inheritance. He shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips.
"Alright. The floor is yours."
What happened next defied all tactical logic. Powder didn't reach for her triggers. Instead, she shoved Pow-Pow and Fishbones into Chen's surprised arms and snatched the lamppost right out of his hand.
"Wait! What are you doing?!" Chen sputtered, nearly dropping the heavy heavy weaponry. "You're an ADC! You're a backline glass cannon! You don't just... you don't melee!"
But Powder didn't care about game roles. Enhanced by the residual Shimmer in her system, she became a blur of blue hair and swinging iron. She didn't have Chen's Counter Strike technique, but she had raw, explosive speed. She dove into the remaining guards, the heavy lamppost whistling through the air.
CRACK. THUD. CRUNCH.
She wasn't killing them—the blunt force of the lamp wasn't as lethal as her bullets—but she was breaking them. She dodged a blade with a low, sparks-flying slide, popped up behind a guard, and cracked him across the ribs. Then, sensing the numbers were still against her, she reached into her belt and tossed two "Flame Chompers" into the center of the fray.
BOOM!
The explosion cleared the entrance. The surviving guards, seeing a teenage girl wielding a lamppost and high explosives with equal disregard for life, decided they weren't paid enough to die for a missing boss. They turned and bolted into the dark alleys.
Powder stood in the quiet of the street, the heavy lamp dragging on the cobblestones. She looked at the tavern—Vander's tavern—and finally let out a long, shaky breath. The ghost of the past was finally laid to rest. She walked back to Chen and handed him the lamp with a look of pure, unadulterated disdain.
"Give me my guns back."
"No, you... you just..." Chen was still reeling.
"I always saw you smashing people with this thing and thought it looked cool," she grumbled, taking her weapons back. "It's useless. It's heavy, it's slow, and it doesn't even explode. Why do you use this? Get a gun, Chen. It's way better."
Chen opened his mouth to explain that the system literally wouldn't let him use a gun without it exploding in his face, but he just sighed. "It's... a stylistic choice, Powder."
Ekko finally emerged from the shadows, looking at the two of them with a mixture of awe and a heavy dose of "imposter syndrome."
"You guys are on a different level now," Ekko said, his voice quiet. "I feel like I'm just holding you back."
Chen slung an arm around Ekko's shoulder. He knew this feeling. In every RPG, there's a point where the protagonist out-levels the sidekicks. But Ekko wasn't a sidekick; he was the future.
"I told you before, Ekko. Once this is over, I'm taking you to the Academy. You and Heimerdinger are going to build the Z-Drive. You're going to be the one who controls time itself."
"A Z-what?" Ekko blinked, confused.
"Just listen to the part where he says you'll get stronger," Powder added with a smirk.
It was time. Ekko climbed to the highest point of The Last Drop's roof, clutching a megaphone Chen had rigged up. He looked out over the growing crowd of Zaunites—the workers, the orphans, the addicts, and the weary.
"The Wildfire Party officially announces today!" Ekko's voice boomed, amplified by the tech and fueled by the "Red Book" ideology Chen had shared. "Under the blessing of Janna, for the future of Zaun! We are done with the oppression of the Chem-Barons! We are done with the poison of Shimmer! We are done breathing the filth of Piltover's leftovers!"
"Silco is gone! We are taking back the factories! We are taking back our lives! From this day forward, Zaun belongs to the people of Zaun!"
The speech was electric. It spoke of a unified medical system, of food for every mouth, and a life where a child could look at the sky and see something other than green smog.
As the word spread, the Undercity found itself split between two legends.
The Wildfire Party: The organized hope. Led by the youth, backed by a Goddess, and promising a structured, prosperous future.
Urgot, the Dreadnought: The chaotic vengeance. The monster who broke the prison and killed Baron Finn, promising that only the strong would survive the coming fire.
"The revolution is here, Ekko," Chen said, watching the crowd cheer. "But now we have to decide which version of Zaun wins."
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