7

-An hour earlier-

Dark and unpleasant were just two of the many words one could use to describe the place known as the Undercity.

It was a place where criminals lived freely, and abandoned souls roamed its polluted, perilous streets, searching for any scraps of hope. 

Yet, despite all of this, there were still many good people living in the Undercity—families, children, and elderly folks who clung to their dignity amidst the filth. 

These were people who yearned for change, who had grown weary of the deplorable living conditions, and who had endured enough of being oppressed and treated like trash. They dreamed of a brighter future, where their children could play without fear and the streets were safe and clean.

A future where taking a wrong turn wouldn't lead to a corner leaking poisonous gas, suffocating to death those unfortunate enough to breathe it in.

But today, that was going to change.

Just outside the Alcove District, an army from the Undercity gathered, united by their yearning for change. Men and women, many with makeshift weapons—some wielding rusted swords and broken pipes, while others carried homemade explosives and scavenged firearms—took up arms. Their armor, meanwhile, was a patchwork of leather, metal scraps.

In front of this army stood a burly man. His black hair was tousled, framing a face hardened by years of struggle. A full beard covered his jaw, his piercing blue eyes, sharp and clear, seemed to bore into the souls of those he led, igniting a fire within them.

His hands were encased in rough power gauntlets, constructed from salvaged machinery. Each gauntlet had a cylindrical main body with visible mechanical components—pistons and hinges clicking and whirring with every movement.

The man's name was Vander, the leader of this army, and beside him stood his right-hand man, Silco. Sharing Vander's black hair and piercing blue eyes, Silco was lean and wiry, a stark contrast to the burly leader.

They weren't just like brothers—they were brothers.

Born and raised in the depths of the Undercity, they grew up together in abject poverty. Each day was a fight for survival, where wandering into the wrong area could mean death. They struggled to breathe in the toxic air, scavenging for food and living like dogs.

Life was truly a constant battle for them and many people of the Undercity, and they all finally had enough.

Tired of being ignored and overlooked by those prospering above, Vander and Silco dreamed of one day establishing their own nation, separate from Piltover.

The great nation of Zaun.

Zaun would be a place where they could live with dignity, free from oppression and neglect. This shared vision fueled their determination, driving them to spend years rallying the people of the Undercity to their cause. They tirelessly worked to build an army, uniting the oppressed under a common goal.

Today was the day they were going to take action. The years of planning, organizing, and building their forces had all led to this pivotal moment. 

"Corpses litter our streets every day while those above continue to thrive, ignore us, and dump their waste in our homes. Brothers and sisters, we have endured for far too long," Vander declared, his voice growing louder and more filled with conviction with each word. "It is time for a change, it is time we act!"

As they listened to Vander, the small flame that had sparked in people's hearts transformed. It became a raging inferno, ready to burst forth from their chests. The crowd, once silent and apprehensive, now buzzed with fervor.

The plan was simple yet daring: draw out the Enforcers using strategically placed bombs and then overpower them before marching to the Council to overthrow their rule.

Every step had been meticulously planned. The bombs, carefully hidden in key locations across the Alcove District, were not designed to cause widespread destruction. Most were intentionally crafted as duds, meant to create fear and confusion rather than harm. 

Still, Vander wrestled with his conscience. He didn't want to spill blood, but the sacrifices were necessary. The mortar shells, fired at his command, descended from the sky in calculated arcs. He watched them fall, knowing that there were going to be many civilian casualties, even though most of the shells were duds meant to scare rather than kill.

He waited with a heavy heart for the explosions that would signal the beginning of their uprising. But then, in a surreal twist of fate, the bombs stopped in midair and collided into each other. 

An earth-shaking roar resounded throughout the sky, blackening the clouds with smoke and blotting out the sun. 

Vander should have felt anger upon witnessing the devastation, but instead, a fleeting sense of relief washed over him, if only for a moment. Judging from the explosion, he was sure those bombs were far from harmless.

He knew without a doubt that this was his brother's doing. Silco had always been ruthless, willing to go to any lengths to achieve their goals. It was a side of Silco that Vander despised, and as someone who considered him family, it was a trait he had struggled to change over the years.

However, this time, Silco had crossed a dangerous line. The explosion had been far more devastating than anticipated. If not for the unexpected intervention, thousands would have perished from the detonated bombs and the advance team they had dispatched ahead.

The air around them was thick with acrid smoke, the aftermath of destruction hanging heavy in the air. Vander's eyes bore into Silco's, a mix of disbelief and simmering anger.

But Silco just stood stoically amidst the chaos he had orchestrated, his demeanor unyielding despite the magnitude of the devastation it would have caused.

Although Vander already anticipated the answer, he couldn't help but ask, his voice tight with restrained anger, "What was that?" 

"An unexpected variable in our plan," Silco said calmly.

"Our plan! From what I remember, our plan didn't involve risking so many innocent lives." Vander's voice cracked with frustration and concern, his gaze piercing.

"The more chaos, the more Enforcers would have been drawn out," Silco interrupted sharply. "But it's irrelevant now. We must move quickly; the Enforcers will arrive soon." 

Just as soon as Silco finished speaking, a honking sound reverberated throughout Piltover, piercing the air with its intensity.

This was the alarm heralding the Enforcers' approach, exactly as anticipated: the signal to clear the streets leading to the bridge that connected Piltover's south and north, clearing the path for their people. Though their plan had veered off course, they refused to retreat and let years of preparation go to waste.

More crucially, this might be the Undercity's only chance to revolt.

It was time to act, and Vander understood this was no time for debate. "We'll discuss this later," he said with a glare.

Silco nodded in silent agreement, falling into step behind Vander.

With this, the uprising began.