After getting off the ship, Logan set foot in Zaun. He stopped where he was, spread his arms wide, and took a huge, greedy breath of Zaun's air. Beside him, the Bilgewater sailors watched the whole performance with twitching mouths.
"Black-haired kid, what the hell? This place smells like straight-up engine oil. You got some kind of weird fetish or something?"
"You don't get it, Old Rog." Logan turned to the bearded sailor and grinned.
The trip had been boring, so Logan had ended up becoming friends with the Bilgewater crew. With Ahri's charm skill working in the background, even if they hadn't wanted to get close to some outsider at first, time wore them down—until they all liked him.
Clean-cut face, easygoing personality, could take a joke. And most importantly: the kid had money, and he liked spending it.
But these Bilgewater guys were still pretty disciplined. Not everyone in Bilgewater became a pirate—there were plenty who ran legitimate business. Old Rog, for example. This merchant crew was his, and his job was to help smugglers coming through Bilgewater find buyers willing to take whatever they were selling.
Old Rog was a broker who'd only recently gotten into the trade.
And Zaun?
Zaun was an excellent buyer.
They didn't care where something came from. They cared about the price—and whether it worked.
"Come on," Logan said, slinging an arm over Old Rog's shoulder and waggling his eyebrows. "Zaun's my turf. No rush. Stick with me—here, all I've gotta do is say one sentence and someone shows up to buy your stuff."
Old Rog let out a cold laugh, looking Logan up and down with open contempt. "Black-haired kid, you've been saying 'Zaun's my turf' since we were still on the ship—so why do I keep hearing Zaun's boss is a guy named Silco?"
"And you came from Ionia, didn't you? You think I forgot?"
"See? You're getting worked up again." Logan looked at him like he'd been wronged. "I tell the truth and nobody believes me."
Old Rog hitched a shoulder, shook Logan's hand off, and shrugged. Logan didn't press it.
Because Logan felt something.
After spending ten years in the Spirit Blossom realm as a soul, Logan still couldn't use magic—but his sensitivity to magical presence was razor-sharp. Put simply, Logan had become a walking… "anti-magic stone."
Not the kind that suppresses magic, but the kind that detects it. His resistance had strengthened too—most mages wouldn't be able to do much to him anymore.
Elemental affinity made him a favorite of the natural spirits across Runeterra. They didn't want to hurt him—same way they didn't want to hurt yordles.
So… after being Zaunite, then "Ionian," now I'm basically a yordle too?
Logan headed toward an alley, smiling as he looked at the blue bird perched on a wall, staring at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. He laughed loudly.
"Janna—what? You don't recognize me?"
"You… how are you alive?" Janna's voice was bright, but shaken with shock. "I felt your body and your soul completely vanish from Runeterra. But you're—"
It didn't make sense. It really didn't make sense.
What was the thing behind Logan, exactly?
How could it do something like this? Was it a god of death? No… even that didn't add up.
Because even death gods on Runeterra couldn't just revive people whenever they felt like it—and Logan's case was worse. His soul had been erased. Normally, the dead were supposed to be guided into the afterlife.
But Janna had lived for so long, and she'd never heard of any underworld that was "managed" by death gods the way mortals imagined.
"It's a long story." Logan held a hand out to her. "Someone saved me. Then it took ten years in the spirit realm to revive me. And now I'm back."
Janna fluttered down, tilting her head at him, studying him like he was some impossible curiosity.
"Right—Jinx." Logan's expression tightened. "Where is she?"
"Ah!" Janna yelped, like she'd been slapped awake by the question. "Yes—Jinx! Logan, you need to find her right now. I'll lead you."
"Her mental state is bad. In the year you were gone, she thought about you every day. Just now, she wrote letters to everyone… and then she ran away."
"She's looking for a place to kill herself."
"She said she's going to find you. Logan… you really shattered her."
The smile on Logan's face froze.
His eyes went blank as he stared at Janna, and it felt like something grabbed his heart and squeezed—dull, heavy pressure, then pain.
He didn't even notice his voice turning sharp, unfriendly.
"So you all just watched her?" Logan's words came out cold.
"Silco didn't stop her. Vander didn't stop her. Vi didn't stop her. Is that it?"
"You all just watched her?"
"Are you all dead?!" he snarled.
Faced with Logan's sudden fury, Janna didn't flare back. She only spoke softly:
"We tried, Logan. Vi spent this entire year guarding Jinx, every day. Silco went to see her every night after work. Vander brought her food and pastries whenever he could. But she wouldn't listen to anyone."
"On the day you died—on the day you disappeared from Zaun—she left with you."
"After that, what you saw was just a walking shell without a soul. She forced herself to finish what you wanted—make Zaun better, build weapons for Zaun. Every day was the same schedule, repeated for a year. She became what people called a machine—only living to complete what you were one step away from finishing."
"And now she's succeeded."
"Silco sabotaged her work from behind the scenes to delay her, because otherwise she would've gone looking for death even sooner. But luckily… you came back today."
Janna blinked, emotion finally threading through her calm. "Go. Now. Find her."
"If she sees you… she'll be happy."
"Lead me," Logan said, gaze lowered.
Along Piltover's mountain paths, a girl with a blue ponytail walked through the trees. She glanced down at the map in her hand, then lifted her head to check the way forward.
Her bright blue eyes narrowed slightly as she muttered to herself.
"Hm… should I go ride a Hextech airship? I've never been on one. When I was a kid, it was my dream to ride one. If I go now… it's not too late."
She turned and looked back at the city. Sleek, beautiful airships drifted through the sky, flying out over the sea. Jinx squinted at them, staring with a quiet hint of longing.
But then she shook her head, rejecting the idea.
"Never mind. It's too far. I'm scared Logan won't be able to find me."
With everything finally set down, Jinx felt something close to relief.
This year had been exhausting. She'd forced herself to look "fine" so everyone else wouldn't worry. She'd pushed Zaun forward, made it better—she'd worn a smile like armor.
And it was so, so tiring.
But now she didn't need to do that anymore.
Now she could do what she needed to do.
She knew Zaun was going to be tearing itself apart looking for her.
But they weren't going to find her.
Jinx had long since figured out exactly when Vi would come to her room, and she'd planned everything with care.
She was a genius. If she wanted to vanish, even people like Viktor and Ekko wouldn't spot the plan immediately—especially when Viktor was on her side.
She rubbed her chin, looking at the mountain ridge—then toward the sea.
She… had never gone swimming before.
Almost twenty. Twenty years alive, and not once—because Zaun simply didn't have the space for that kind of thing.
So an idea popped into Jinx's head.
"Go up high and look at the view?" she murmured. "That works. And I can swim too—call it swimming for Logan as well. He definitely hasn't swum either… wait, he worked at the docks when he was fourteen. Did he go into the sea back then?"
She shook her head, deciding.
She tugged at her straps, settled her bag more securely, and kept walking upward, talking to herself.
And when she'd just turned her head—
She didn't notice the slim figure that had already followed her.
Logan.
Janna perched on his shoulder, silently watching the Jinx who climbed toward the summit. Logan pressed his lips together.
When Jinx had turned her head just now, Logan had nearly rushed forward to grab her—nearly wrapped her up in his arms and yelled at her for choosing something as reckless as suicide.
He knew Jinx would be hurting. He knew this year had been brutal.
That was why Logan had raced back to Zaun the moment he returned—because, as a League player, he did want to see Ionia. He wanted to see the land, the culture, even meet Ionian champions.
For someone who loved the game, that temptation was enormous.
But he'd abandoned it, because he knew the first thing he had to do was see Jinx.
Still—no matter how much she hurt, no matter how shattered she felt, she couldn't choose this.
Logan had sacrificed himself partly because of Zaun, because once he'd become a leader, responsibility had sunk into his bones.
But the biggest reason he'd sacrificed himself—
Was the people close to him.
And among them, the most important person was Jinx.
A beautiful girl who'd shared a bed with him for a full year—crazy, yes, but devoted and adorable—who the hell could resist that? Who the hell could not fall for Jinx?
Logan had liked her for a long time. Their situation was beyond "living together"—they'd been in the same room, the same bed.
Touch, closeness, tiny interactions at night. The last person he saw before sleep was her. The first person he saw when he woke up was her.
How could he possibly not develop feelings?
So if Jinx chose to die because he'd died, Logan would be furious.
He liked her. He loved her. He wanted her to live—live well, live happily.
Love was strange like that—possessive, and yet also willing to let go.
But listening to Jinx talk to herself, Logan stayed hidden.
She was speaking her heart. A lot of it was meant for him.
Just like now—Logan followed behind her silently while Jinx admired the scenery. The wind ruffled her short hair. She'd looked good with long hair. She looked good with short hair too.
Less fragile.
More alive.
"Should I burn these letters for Logan… or keep them on me?" Jinx muttered. "If I burn them early, will he get them? If he does… will he come find me?"
"And what do I do with the hat… should I leave it for Isha? No—if Isha sees it, she'll just feel worse."
"Why is this path so steep? Ugh, seriously!"
"Oh—fruit!"
Logan watched the girl scramble up a tree, nimble as ever, pluck a red fruit, rub it in her palm, and bite into it.
He couldn't help it—his mouth curved into a smile.
The anger he'd felt earlier, after hearing Janna's report…
It vanished in an instant.
He watched Jinx quietly, his gaze growing softer and softer.
Until—
Ten minutes later, Jinx reached the mountaintop.
She dropped onto the cliff's edge, her legs dangling over open air, feet lightly kicking as she stared out at the view.
From here, she couldn't see Zaun. Couldn't see Piltover either.
Only the endless sea—broken by tiny black dots that were islands, and farther out… a larger, blurrier shadow.
That was probably Ionia.
Jinx shifted her arms, changing her posture, and stared toward Ionia.
She'd been thinking lately—
Logan's ancestors might've come from Ionia before ending up in Zaun. Logan had black hair, black eyes, and he didn't look like most Zaunites.
So Jinx really was curious about Ionia.
How different was it from what books said?
Were there really trees dozens of meters tall?
Were there really rabbits with horns that shot electricity?
And giant turtles so big they were larger than islands?
Zaun was too small. The world was too big. Jinx realized there was still so much she'd never seen.
Then she stood and—like she was finally letting go—opened her arms wide and stretched.
She tied her cat-ear hat around her waist with a cord. If she wore it on her head…
It might get lost.
Around her waist, it wouldn't.
She closed her eyes.
Jinx took one step forward—
And fell toward the sea.
Eyes shut, face calm, she felt the wind scream past, hair whipping wildly, the cat-ear hat at her waist fluttering and snapping.
Falling.
Then—
She froze.
Because she suddenly felt someone's hand on her waist.
But… that was impossible.
This was a cliff hundreds of meters high. She was falling toward the sea.
How could anyone—
Was it Janna?
No. Janna had said she wouldn't stop her.
But the touch was too real.
And then the roaring wind around Jinx vanished, as if the world itself had been muted.
Still thinking, Jinx suddenly felt herself pulled into an embrace—tight, secure—while a familiar scent filled her nose.
Just one breath of it, and her heart went wild.
And then her cheek pressed against a chest.
Warm.
Safe.
She heard a heartbeat—one she'd heard in dreams more times than she could count.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Jinx's eyes snapped open.
Blue pupils widening, disbelief flooded her gaze—
Her hands shot out, grabbing at something—
A shirt collar.
A hand slid to the back of her head, gently pressing her into the embrace.
A chin rested on top of her head, shielding her.
WHAM!
BOOM!
A dark shadow slammed into the sea, sending up a massive spray—more than ten meters high, like a bomb detonating underwater.
But Jinx felt no pain at all.
She braced her hands, pushed herself up, and sat there—straddling someone's body—staring down in a daze.
Black hair fanned across the surface of the water.
Arms stretched wide, he lay there like a starfish, floating on his back.
A handsome face full of bright, sunny laughter—eyes squeezing as he waggled his brows at her.
"Hey," Logan said, grinning. "Whose kid are you?"
"How do you look at the scenery and get this careless, huh?"
Jinx just stared.
Logan lifted a hand, smiling as he lightly flicked her nose.
Then his lips curved, and he hummed like he'd just solved a mystery.
"Oh." He tilted his head. "Turns out you're mine."
"…"
:)
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