"Progress day is less than six months away!"
Heavy footsteps echo on stone pavement in front of fresh Enforcer trainees standing at attention. His leather gloves crunch while his expression tightens with seriousness. He stops and turns sharply to observe the uniformed officers.
His short, brown hair is beginning to recede. The baby fat has long vanished from his Ionian face. Wrinkles, rings under his eyes, and a maintained mustache trimmed to his lip's edge show both his age and discipline.
"We are Enforcers! Police, protectors, and servants to the people!"
"Many of you come from houses of nobility and wealthy merchant factions and will be assigned back. Some of you come from the streets."
When he finished, some youthful faces twitched.
"But I don't care where you come from! I don't care about your status is or whom you take to bed after your shift ends!"
"What I care about is results. For those of you that are new and don't know me, I am Sheriff Marcus."
He pauses to let it sink in.
"Now for those of you that did not pay attention during class, our power structure is simple! Lieutenants report to me and Sergeants report to their Lieutenant. All of you will shut up and do as you are told."
"If you do well then you might be considered for a promotion at which point you will earn the golden trim that makes you a fully fledged Enforcer. At THAT point you can ask questions and talk back, within limitations of course."
He stops to gesture at an Enforcer standing at attention.
A small gap separates groupings of five trainees with an Enforcer standing in front of each. Both the trainees and Enforcers wear navy blue uniforms with white details and brown accessories, but the Enforcers' uniform has golden trim.
"Understood?"
"Yes sir!" The Enforcer trainees echo loudly.
Sheriff Marcus's approving gaze wanders them with a slow nod until it reaches a certain female trainee with long, navy blue hair.
His small smile that had been growing vanishes instantly.
"Sergeants!"
"Yes sir!"
"Introduce yourself to your new squads and debrief them. Report to your lieutenants immediately after."
"Yes sir!"
With a sharp turn and brisk movement, Marcus strides back into the Enforcer's HQ. After the door slams shut behind him, the Sergeants perform an about face to their squads.
However one such Sergeant turns lazily and lets out a tired sigh from underneath his Enforcer mask. The long, blue haired female couldn't help but let her eyes disciplined forward wander briefly toward him.
"Right," he breathes, dropping his strict at-attention posture immediately and hunching forward slightly. The complete opposite of all the other Sergeants who maintained their strict posture with hands folded behind their back as they began speaking.
He was the only one who had his gas mask on too which made his voice muffled and distorted.
"I am Sergeant Lucian Vox. We work under Lieutenant Richard in the North-West sector of Piltover consisting primarily of rich and noble houses. Our jurisdiction does not end within our boundaries and we run regular patrols up to the Bridge of Progress including patrols entering the Undercity."
He takes an prolonged, exaggerated deep breath.
"Any questions?"
Immediately the young lady speaks up.
"Trainee Caitlyn, sir!"
"...Speak."
"Which house do you belong to sir?"
Underneath his gas mask, a brow arches.
"I serve House Torek. Will that be a problem CaitlynKiramman?"
"No sir!"
"Good. Any other questions?"
"Trainee Rufus, sir!"
"Speak."
"Why are you the only Sergeant wearing a mask?"
A chuckle emerges and he taps on it.
"Because I wanna be special! I'm kidding. I returned from an Undercity patrol and was told to report here immediately. I haven't decontaminated yet."
"Decontaminated?"
Lucian points behind them where a heavy smog lingers. "The environment down there is toxic. I would prefer to live a long and healthy life and not end up in a hospital bed dying my fifties."
"Ah..."
While Rufus sounded satisfied, Caitlyn shuffles again with a frown forming. Her mouth opens to ask a question but Lucian claps his hands loudly together. It even startles a trainee in a group next to them.
"Right! Introduce yourselves to each other. I need to get going so you are all dismissed."
With that he turns and begins walking toward the HQ's main doors, leaving behind slightly confused trainees and disapproving glares from the other Sergeants.
Once inside, Lucian immediately heads over to the decontamination chambers.
It's a barren stone room where he removes all of his garments and places them on a counter in front of a metal sliding panel door.
"Name and rank?"
"Lucian Vox, Sergeant."
The small metal door opens and large, gloved hands scoop up his uniform. A loud and deep gurgling laugh echoes behind it.
Moments later a new uniform, neatly folded and piled with polished black boots slides out.
"Stay safe out there."
"Thanks," Lucian says with a grimace and redresses himself.
I really want to know why he laughs like that.
Fixing up his collar, he lets out another tired sigh.
Better question, why did I end up in this world?
His mind wandered back to when he still played league of legends. Because he was getting older and busier, didn't have the reflexes anymore to main DPS or mid.
He wasn't skilled enough to play Top in the macro sense either. It ended with him losing the game even if he won the laneing phase.
And Jungle, well, he just didn't like jungling. Speed Warwick was fun but he wasn't good at it.
Thus he settled on support.
Nautilus, Blitz, Leona, Soraka.
Pyke he wasn't good at and made retarded dives too often so he gave up on it. It was fun but he was bad.
But how did he end up here?
The typical 'I was gaming and now I'm here' moment. His eyes opened and he found himself sat on his bunk bed when the tidal wave of memories flooded in.
Lucian Vox, an orphan with no parents or real connections to anything. A street rat who wanted to climb out of the gutter so he joined the Enforcers under House Torek, a minor noble family in the north-west sector focused primarily on the food industry.
Back then, Lucian had no idea what was going on when he heard of the warehouse explosion on the Riverside. News circulated of Vander's death, the previous leader of the Undercity, and the resistance against the new up-and-coming industrialist Silco was quickly quelled.
After he finished his training, because House Torek was his sponsor most of his duties became guarding the food facilities as a low-level Piltover grunt. His recent promotion was due to time in service rather than skill.
But now that he had both memories he knew...
Vi was in prison. Vander was dead. Jinx was Silco's lackey.
The main problem right now was what he accepted before transmigrating...
A small coin purse filled with coins jingling at his hip.