Arcane: Bond Beyond Death

Jayce started his speech, but Jinx wasn't paying attention. Her mind was spiraling, consumed by thoughts of Caitlyn. The elegant enforcer was standing not too far away, her poised demeanor and sharp eyes seemingly mocking Jinx from the distance. Every fiber of Jinx's chaotic mind screamed at her, showing flashes of Caitlyn and Bael laughing together, talking together—being together.

Her breathing quickened, her grip on Pow-Pow Eta tightening dangerously. She licked her lips, her eyes narrowing as the images became unbearable. "She thinks she can take him away from me..." Jinx muttered under her breath, her voice venomous and cracking with unhinged energy. "I'll show her what happens to pretty little liars."

Without a second thought, her hand began to move, reaching toward the hidden compartment where Pow-Pow Eta was stashed.

"Jinx," Bael's voice was low and commanding, snapping her out of her thoughts like a bolt of lightning. He turned to her, his face a mix of urgency and concern.

She froze, her wild eyes meeting his. For a moment, she looked like a cornered animal, "She's trying to take you from me…" she whispered, her voice trembling, a mix of anger and vulnerability.

Bael held her gaze, his mechanical hand still gently gripping her wrist. "No one's taking me from you," he said firmly. He leaned closer, his voice softening. "Babe, look at me. I'm yours. Only yours."

The word "babe" hit her like a shockwave, causing her face to flush red. The intensity in her eyes flickered, giving way to something more fragile and human. "Y-You mean that?" she whispered.

Bael nodded, releasing her wrist slowly but staying close enough to block any sudden movements.

Her lips quivered, and she let out a shaky breath, finally leaning back into her seat. The chaos in her eyes dulled slightly, but the storm hadn't entirely passed. "Fine. But if she so much as looks at you wrong, Bael, I swear…"

"I know, I know," Bael interrupted with a small sigh, though there was a faint smirk on his lips. "But trust me, you don't need to worry about her. You're all I see, Jinx."

Her lips curled into a small, twisted grin, and she leaned her head on his shoulder, her hands now away from Pow-Pow Eta. "You better mean that… Babe."

Jayce took a deep breath, his hand gripping the edges of the podium as he addressed the crowd. "Today marks another milestone for Piltover—a celebration of progress, innovation, and the limitless potential of Hextech," he began, his voice steady despite the inner conflict brewing within him.

Jayce hesitated, his words faltering for a split second. He remembered Heimerdinger's warning. "My child, this invention is remarkable, but it is not ready. Its potential for misuse outweighs the benefits if revealed too soon."

But then, to his right, Mel Medarda's figure caught his eye. She stood gracefully, her posture confident, her golden earrings catching the sunlight. When their eyes met, she offered him a small, knowing smile—a smile that seemed to say;

"You're the golden boy of Piltover. Trust yourself."

Mel tilted her head slightly, her smile widening just enough to embolden him. That small gesture pushed him forward.

"...And with progress comes responsibility," Jayce continued, his voice regaining its strength. "Which is why we've spent countless days perfecting what I'm about to show you. This invention is not just a tool—it's a promise!"

The crowd erupted into applause, their excitement palpable. Jayce glanced at Heimerdinger one last time, catching the faintest trace of unease in the Yordle's eyes.

Mel leaned closer from her place on the stage and whispered, "You're doing great, Jayce."

He nodded, steeling himself for what was to come. Whether he was ready or not, there was no turning back now.

As the applause roared across the plaza, Bael narrowed his eyes, fully focused on the scene before him. His gaze shifted to the stage's edge, where Viktor emerged slowly, his thin frame hunched slightly but his movements deliberate. In his hands, he carried the Hextech Gauntlets—a marvel of technology and innovation.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Viktor's voice, though quieter than Jayce's, carried a weight of authority as he spoke into the microphone. "Allow me to present the first fully automated Hextech device—the Hextech Gauntlets. A tool designed to revolutionize mining and industry, capable of making the heaviest loads feel as light as feathers."

He gestured toward a massive metal crate that had been wheeled onto the stage. With practiced ease, Viktor slipped his hands into the gauntlets and tightened the straps. The glowing lines on the device brightened, synchronizing with his movements.

The crowd leaned in with anticipation as Viktor approached the crate. In one fluid motion, he hoisted it into the air as if it were weightless, holding it above his head for all to see. The audience erupted into cheers, their excitement reaching a fever pitch.

Bael watched closely, his analytical mind racing. He studied the gauntlets' design, the way the energy flowed through their structure, the mechanisms that allowed such precise control. "Impressive," he muttered under his breath, though his expression remained stoic.

Jinx, standing beside him, was less composed. Her lips curled into a sneer as she whispered, "They think that's revolutionary? I could blow that crate to pieces with Eta in one shot."

"...Jinx what are the odds of us stealing that technology if you cause mayhem right now." Bael asked, a sudden shift of the atmosphere which triggered even Jinx.

"Hmmm... I'd say... about a trillion percent and some dust." She replied, mockingly.

"...A trillion percent... Then, there's no turning back if we do that right now... I say we play our cards carefully." Bael affirms, a silent promise between them both.

As the speech concluded and the crowd erupted into applause, the VIP section became a hub of activity. The guards stationed around the VIP section stood tall, their watchful eyes scanning for any sign of danger.

"How do you plan to get us in there, babe?" she whispered, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Because I'm starting to think my method—" she held up the explosive with a mischievous grin, "—might be a bit faster."

Bael shot her a stern look, his mind already racing with possibilities. "We can't go in guns blazing, Jinx. The second we make a scene, they'll lock down the tech and we'll lose our chance."

Jinx groaned, tossing the explosive up and down. "So what? We just waltz in like we're supposed to be there? Hate to break it to you, babe, but I don't think they hand out VIP badges to people like us."

Bael's eyes narrowed as he scanned the crowd. His mind clicked into action. "We don't need badges. We just need a distraction—something small, something they won't trace back to us."

Jinx perked up at the word "distraction." "Finally, something fun! What do you have in mind?"

Bael pointed toward the far corner of the event, where a security checkpoint led to the VIP section. "You see that guard over there? He's the weak link. If we can slip a device into his comm system or disrupt their focus, we'll have a window."

Jinx's grin widened as she pocketed the explosive and pulled out a smaller gadget from her belt. "Leave it to me, babe. I'll give them something to talk about."

Bael grabbed her wrist before she could dart off. "Nothing too crazy. Just enough to make them look the other way."

As Jinx crept off to execute her plan, Bael adjusted his disguise and prepared himself for what was coming.

Before moving, Bael crouched slightly, leaning toward the floor where he had been standing. With a faint hum, he extended a small part of his mechanical arm, one of its fingers shifting into a sharp, precise tool. He dragged it across the concrete surface in a subtle motion, leaving behind a barely visible sigile etched into the ground.

"Just in case," he muttered to himself. The mark was a precaution, something only he and Jinx would recognize.

Straightening up and retracting his arm, Bael calmly made his way to the VIP section, blending into the bustling crowd. His pace quickened as he approached the lavishly guarded area. Once inside, his eyes scanned the domain anxiously, searching for Jinx.

And there she was.

Jinx sat at one of the buffet tables, grinning mischievously as she stuffed a macaron into her mouth. Plates of food—desserts, hors d'oeuvres, and even an entire roasted chicken wing—were scattered in front of her. She waved at Bael with her free hand, her face beaming like she hadn't just set off a distraction moments ago.

"Babe! Took ya long enough!" she called out loudly, her voice drawing the attention of a few nearby guests. A couple of them raised their eyebrows, but most dismissed her as an eccentric. It was Progress Day, after all—plenty of strange characters roamed about.

Bael sighed and quickly made his way over to her, keeping his voice low as he leaned in. "Jinx, what are you doing? You're supposed to be laying low, not... raiding the buffet like you're at a Zaunite block party."

Jinx grinned, licking frosting off her fingers. "Laying low is boring. Besides, look at all this food! It's not every day you get fancy rich-people snacks!" She leaned in closer, lowering her voice with a gleam in her eye. "Besides, no one suspects a thing. Your genius plan worked, babe."

"...I'll be right back," he murmured, more to himself than to her. She didn't look up, but he could feel her eyes following him as he moved toward the VIP section. He made his way through the crowd, slipping past a few of the more elite guests, before finally reaching Jayce, who was engaged in conversation with a group of technocrats.

Jayce noticed him approaching, giving Bael a polite, if slightly distant, nod. The atmosphere around the inventor was still a bit tense after the earlier speech, but there was a sense of pride in his demeanor. It was clear he thought highly of his work.

"Hey! What's up?" Jayce greeted, his tone friendly but cautious.

"Good, I wanted to congratulate you for the demonstration earlier. Impressive work with the gauntlets. I'd love to hear more about your projects."

Jayce raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "You're interested in the tech? Most people don't understand what we're working on here. It's... next-level stuff. But I'd be happy to talk shop, if that's what you want."

Bael nodded, feigning casual interest while his mind raced. "I've been following Hextech developments for some time. It's incredible what you've done with it. I'm curious, though—what's your plan for the future of it? You mentioned something about a bigger vision."

Jayce's expression shifted, a mixture of excitement and ambition lighting up his features. "Well, the goal is to revolutionize everything. We're looking at transforming industries, reshaping cities, and even going beyond that. Piltover can be the beacon of progress, the perfect example for the rest of the world to follow. It's not just about power—it's about what we can achieve with it."

"So, where do you see all this heading? What's next for you?" Bael asked, keeping his tone casual but probing.

Jayce's eyes flickered with a hint of pride. "We've got a few projects coming down the pipeline. The gauntlets are just the beginning. Next, we're going to focus on streamlining Hextech's applications, making it more accessible to everyday people!"

The conversation went on unbeknownst to Jayce that this was all an act to gather information about this place in a short amount of time without standing out too much.

Caitlyn was out in the distance. Sometimes, they'd make eye contact.

That's when Bael realized. If he wanted the mission to be successful, he'd need to neutralize Caitlyn.

Ending the conv with Jayce, Bael set his sight of his next target, while Jinx's eyes remained glued on him.

Caitlyn, however, was no fool. As soon as she noticed him moving in her direction, her sharp instincts kicked in. Her eyes narrowed, her posture shifting as she subtly adjusted herself, becoming more alert.

"Lady Caitlyn," Bael said smoothly, his voice low and calm. "It's quite a surprise to see you here at the event. I didn't expect you to be interested in Progress Day."

Caitlyn's eyes flicked to him, the recognition flashing in her gaze. She tilted her head slightly, sizing him up. Her hand remained near her gun, but her fingers were now poised, ready for any sudden movement.

"Who are you?" she asked, her voice crisp and direct. "And why the sudden interest in me?"

Bael could feel the shift in the air. The tension was palpable. His mind raced as he tried to gauge her next move, knowing that one wrong word or action could trigger everything.

He took a step closer, closing the gap but keeping his movements slow and deliberate. He knew Caitlyn was calculating his every move, just as he was hers.

"Just someone who admires the work you do," Bael said smoothly, his eyes scanning the area around them, ensuring no one was too close. He could feel the weight of the situation bearing down on him—his words had to be perfect. "It's not often that someone with your skill set makes it to this kind of event. I thought you'd be busy cleaning up the streets of Piltover."

The bait was set, and Caitlyn's expression remained hard, unreadable. She wasn't buying it, not for a second. He could see it in her eyes, the suspicion that was still hanging in the air like a storm cloud waiting to burst.

"I don't trust strangers, especially ones who seem to know more than they let on," Caitlyn replied coolly, her stance never wavering. She wasn't backing down. In fact, Bael felt a sense of tension building as she took a more defensive posture. "You better start talking, or this conversation will end quickly."

Bael's heart rate increased. This was the moment. He needed to get her talking, to keep her off-balance, keep her from reaching for her weapon. He had to control the situation before she did. He took a deep breath, willing his nerves to steady.

"I'm just a curious admirer," Bael said, forcing a smile. "Though I must admit, there's something about your presence tonight that stands out. You seem different, Detective."

Caitlyn's eyes flashed with a hint of disbelief. She wasn't fooled by his charm. Bael could see it in her body language—her grip on her gun tightened ever so slightly.

"You think flattery is going to get you anywhere?" she asked, her voice low, almost dangerous. "I'm not here to play games."

Repeat that last line... "I'm not here tonplay games."

Checkmate.

Bael smiled.

"Hold up, miss," he said, his tone almost nonchalant. "There's a thing on your shirt."

Caitlyn paused, taken aback by the unexpected interruption, her eyes darting to her clothing. Her hand instinctively reached for the spot where he was pointing, but before she could react further, Bael's mechanical arm was already in motion. A low hum started emanating from it, growing louder by the second.

Her brow furrowed in confusion. What was he doing? She opened her mouth to ask, but before she could utter a word, the realization hit her too late. Bael's mechanical arm was no longer just a tool—it was a weapon, and it was overheating.

The moment the heated tip of his arm made contact with the fabric of her uniform, it was as though the air itself thickened. The heat surged, far more intense than she'd anticipated, and the fabric beneath his arm started to scorch almost instantly. The contact was brief, but the effect was undeniable. A glowing, menacing mark began to burn into the fabric—an imprint that was far worse than any simple stain.

Caitlyn's instincts kicked in. Her hand flew to her sword, drawing it in a flash of steel, but Bael was already moving. With a swift motion, he darted back, keeping just out of her reach.

She stood frozen for a split second, staring at the mark that now marred her uniform. It wasn't just a scorch—this was something far more sinister. The mark was glowing, pulsating with an eerie light that seemed to burn through the fabric with a chilling energy. The pattern was intricate, like some kind of brand, and its heat was unbearable, even through her shirt.

With her heart racing, Caitlyn raised her sword, preparing to strike. But before she could make her move, Bael snapped his fingers in the air.

The sound was sharp, almost commanding, and the moment the sound left his lips, the mark imploded.

Bael's hand snapped, and the moment the sound of his fingers echoed through the air, the glowing mark on Caitlyn's uniform imploded.

The instant the mark collapsed, the force was like an explosion of raw energy, sending a shockwave through the air. Caitlyn, caught off guard and unable to brace herself, was thrown backward with terrifying force. Her body slammed against the wall behind her with a sickening thud, the impact knocking the breath out of her.

Bael didn't linger. With a cool glance over his shoulder, he quickly disappeared into the crowd, melting into the shadows as he had done so many times before. He wasn't concerned about Caitlyn. She was out of the picture for now. But his mind was already working, calculating the next move.

As security rushed to the scene, one of the guards kneeled beside Caitlyn's limp body, checking for any signs of life. His hands shook slightly as he examined her, trying to assess the situation. Another officer appeared behind him, and without thinking, he stepped right onto the spot where Bael had marked the floor earlier.

There was a faint clicking sound, almost inaudible amidst the chaos, followed by a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through the floor. The guard's eyes widened in realization as the ground beneath him began to tremble. Before he could move, the pressure built to an unbearable intensity.

The boom-boom tattoo that Bael had so carefully placed earlier detonated with a deafening roar, the explosion swallowing the area in an instant. The guards never stood a chance. The shockwave hit with such force that it shattered windows, throwing debris everywhere. The air was thick with smoke and dust, and the once-bustling VIP section was now a scene of utter devastation.

The explosion sent bodies flying, the carnage overwhelming. Bael, watching from a distance, allowed himself a brief moment to savor the chaos. He wasn't concerned with the aftermath—he had already disappeared, blending into the crowd and slipping away unnoticed.

But the message was clear: no one would be safe if they got too close to him or his plans. And Caitlyn, despite her skills and determination, was just another casualty of his carefully executed game.

The game is set, chaos starts, now.

Coming Next: Mayhem.