Urgent but hushed whispers circulated among the Enforcers, talk of a riot in one of the prison mines below, Dredge Prison.
The lower levels, the most dangerous and toxic depths, were guarded by the poorly paid residents of the Undercity while the entrance, also the only exit, was controlled by a squad of Enforcers.
Sad to say, this meager pay for dangerous work was still better than what most Sump rats earned.
The Undercity was divided into three sections:
Promenade, Entresol, and Sump — from richest to poorest.
Promenade bordered the river between Piltover and the Undercity; Sump lay along the eastern coast, and Entresol nestled between where The Last Drop from Arcane resided.
Arcane, as Xander knew, took place mostly between Entresol and Piltover.
Dredge Prison, however, was buried in the lowest, darkest region of the Sump district. Enforcers there communicated regularly with Chembaron Voss, a minor baron overseeing labor, trade, and punishment, as many "prisoners" were not truly criminals.
Wealth. Power. Religion.
In Piltover, those imprisoned in Stillwater or Dredge usually found themselves there because of the first two.
Stillwater, holding political offenders and nobles fallen from grace, was practically a resort by comparison and manned by Enforcers with food, light, and the luxury of sun filtered through stained glass.
Dredge Prison, which is a mine prison, was another world entirely. Its inmates lived short, brutal lives. They were experimented on, tortured, and sent into the darkest depths where mutated abominations older than Piltover itself lurked in the dark.
But Xander didn't know any of that until now.
---------------
Ping—ping—ping.
A small rock clattered down a hallway littered with corpses. Xander frowned, seated on the massive dead body of Urgot whose head now showed a gaping hole from chin to crown.
He hadn't felt any great surge of power after killing him and the absence itself felt wrong. It had taken the slaughter of dozens to make him realize only after killing Urgot:
Diablo skills in the Arcane universe. Dredge Prison…? Outside of Urgot as a Champion, I only knew the name.
His gaze dropped to Urgot's lifeless eyes and the viscous green Chemfluid leaking from the ruined tubes feeding into his mouth. Then, down to his own trembling hands.
Summon Skeletal Mage.
The thought triggered the spell. In a violent display, the skeleton ripped itself free from one of the nearby corpses, flesh tearing like wet paper. A black mist cloaked its form and it hovered a foot off the ground, waiting with hollow, echoing screams whispering out from its form.
The corpse it left behind was now nothing but a hollow sack of flesh and blood.
Well, with these, I don't have to risk getting shot first. Send them in, soak the damage, clean up afterward.
Grunting, Xander pressed his hands against Urgot's cold frame to stand and hissed sharply.
"Ouch!"
He jerked his arm back, staring at his palm. Serrated metal cut deep, and he realized Urgot's flesh was clinging to the jagged augment like melted wax.
"It fucking hurts! It shouldn't be hurting like this…"
Blood welled between his fingers. The gash was deep, real, and gave unmistakable pain.
Enough to make him pause and realize the truth he'd been avoiding.
Shit.
This isn't a dream.
---------------
"There was a massacre?" Sheriff Marcus blinked, stunned after finishing the report.
---
A skeletal entity wreathed in darkness emerged from the mine. It displayed extreme hostility, killing the warden immediately. Enforcers on site opened fire but were forced to retreat after confirming that their rounds passed harmlessly through the target.
A local vagrant, identified as a Sump laborer, claims to have witnessed the aftermath. According to his statement, an unidentified figure followed in the creature's footsteps. When the entity collapsed, this figure approached its remains. The witness reported that its eyes glowed like flames.
The witness believed the figure noticed him, but it did not advance. It turned away and disappeared into the surrounding Chem-smog.
Subject remains unaccounted for. Threat classification pending further investigation.
----
Marcus rubbed his forehead, sweat forming and rolling down his temples.
I need to inform the Council about this. And Silco…
He gritted his teeth.
He probably already knows. No use hiding it when it's on his turf.
Reaching for the whiskey glass on his desk, he took a long swig, savoring the burn. Through the office window, the setting sun painted Piltover's skyline in gold and violet. It was one of the few sights that still gave him peace when he wasn't with his daughter.
But now…
His fingers tightened around the glass.
The calm felt hollow and fleeting. Somewhere below, the Undercity stirred with chaos. The Council would demand answers and Silco would demand silence or assistance.
Enforcers need to be briefed, investigation of the site, analysis of the damage...
It was going to be a long night.
---------------
Chaotic club music pulsed through the streets. Purple light spilled from The Last Drop, painting the alleys in sin and shimmer.
Inside, the night was alive with debauchery. Shimmer highs, gambling, flesh for coin. Criminals laughed and danced openly while the streets outside were littered with groaning, drug-addled minds.
On the second floor of what was once a pristine bar, now a manic nightclub, it was quiet. The low hum of a ceiling fan mixed with the scent of cigars, whiskey, and smoke that mixed with the stained walls.
Seated in his velvet chair, Silco took a long drag from his cigar and exhaled through gritted teeth, the smoke curling like his thoughts. Across from him, Sevika, his right hand lady, lounged on the couch with a bottle of rum as the rhythmic bass below shook the floor beneath them.
"Yet another monster has escaped," Silco murmured, flicking ash into the tray. "Marcus is probably quivering in his boots. He's never dealt with something like this before."
He extinguished the cigar with a faint hiss and smirked. "If only he still had a mentor to teach him what real fear looks like."
Sevika grunted, swirling her drink. "So what are we going to do about it?" Her tone was rougher than usual and uneasy. "They reported it as humanoid. I doubt we'll get out of this one unscathed."
"No, we won't," Silco said curtly. His voice dropped into that calculating calm that always preceded violence. "Many will die. None of it will touch the Council's hands, of course. It's an obstacle we will have to face…"
He paused, eyes narrowing toward the map spread across his desk. The one marked with trade routes, smuggling tunnels, and the Piltover Bridge of Progress.
"Unless," he muttered, tapping the inked lines, "we lure it into Piltover. Let them have their turn with the horrors we endure."
Sevika chuckled, and for a brief moment, they shared the same wicked satisfaction. The thought of Piltover bleeding brought a rare smile to both their lips.
"We will lose Marcus as an ally if he finds out."
"If, he finds out." Silco's crimson eye darted to her before smugly replying. "If, and even then, I doubt he will do anything about it. He knows what is at stake."
Then, after a brief pause, Silco's amusement faded and his brows furrowed.
"…Where is Jinx?"