Arcane, Voice of Zaun

"HAH," I woke up to a gasping breath, my eyes darting wildly around the room as filtering through the windows, green smoke began to crawl in. It moved like fingers, reaching through every crack and crevice of our deteriorating home.

"Mom, wake up, wake up!" I shook her as hard as I could, but I received no response. My hands trembled as they gripped her shoulders, and when I moved from the bed, I saw tear streaks glistening on her cheeks. The only sign she was alive was the almost indiscernible movement of her nostrils flaring.

I kept pushing, my voice growing more desperate with each attempt, but she wasn't waking up. The green smoke was getting thicker, making my eyes burn and my throat feel like it was closing up.

"Let's go mom," I whispered as I grabbed her arms, and carefully pulled her off the bed. Her body was heavier than I expected, and when I managed to get her on my back, her legs dragged on the floor. My muscles and bones screamed in protest, but I kept quiet. I couldn't afford to waste breath on screaming.

Once she was secured on my back, I felt some light movement from her - a twitch of her fingers against my shoulder, a soft exhale against my neck. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep me going. I walked toward the door slowly, each step a battle against the increasing weight of her body and the thickening air.

Every second stretched infinitely as I made my way to the door. Thankfully our room was very small - one of the few times I was grateful for our poverty. I turned the doorknob, wincing at the loud creak that seemed to echo in the toxic air. My eyes laid on the streets, and my heart nearly stopped.

The green smoke was running across the streets like a river of poison, and through it, I could see streaks of people running past. Some were carrying others like I was, while others had already fallen to the wayside, their bodies twitching or completely still. I thought about going back into our house, but I knew that was just a death sentence.

"Come on mom, just stay awake, just stay awake," I muttered, feeling her shallow breaths against my neck.

BAM!

Someone ran past us, their elbow catching me hard in the side. I fell to the ground, and my mom slammed against the stone pavement with a sickening thud. I scrambled to my feet, trying to see who had knocked us down, but they were already gone, swallowed by the toxic green fog.

"HAH," I gasped, my eyes watering both from pain and the caustic air. My ribs ached where the person had hit me, but I couldn't stop. I stumbled to my mother's body, grabbing her arms once more, and began to pull.

One step at a time, I kept thinking, just take it one step at a time. The mantra repeated in my head with each dragging step.

"Come on man, just keep breathing," I said as loud as I could, but my voice was getting weaker. My throat felt like it was filled with broken glass, and all I could see in any direction was that sickly green fog. Still, I trudged forward.

Then I saw it - a figure running through the smoke, wearing something on their face. An enforcer respirator. It was old and beaten up, but it seemed to work. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut - I could save mom.

Just as the person ran past us, I lunged at them from behind. We tumbled to the ground in a tangle of limbs, the impact driving what little air I had left from my lungs. But I couldn't let go - that respirator was our only chance.

The person beneath me wasn't as big as I'd expected, but they fought with the same desperate strength that drove me. My fingers clawed at the respirator, trying to tear it free. They bucked and thrashed, their elbow catching me in the stomach, but I held on.

The band behind the respirator snapped with a sharp crack, and for a moment, I thought I'd won. But then a fist connected with my jaw, sending stars exploding across my vision. I tasted blood in my mouth, but I didn't let go of the respirator.

I threw it to the side and grabbed their head with both hands, slamming it against the stone ground. They tried to throw me off, but I wrapped my legs around their torso, using my whole body weight to pin them down. My free hand began to hit them as hard as I could in the back of their head, each impact sending jolts of pain through my knuckles.

They managed to roll over, and the world seemed to stop. I saw their face - a girl, a few years older than me, maybe twelve, her eyes wide with the same desperate fear I felt in my own chest. Short brown hair matted with blood from where I'd slammed her head against the ground. She got one hand around my throat, squeezing.

Out of my voice, came a guttural sound, like magic.

"STOP!"

Her hand stopped clamping around my throat, after which I hit her in the face, yet she stayed unmoving, but that didn't last long, she soon regained control of her body and tried to strange me again but I just kept hitting.

Each movement caused me to gasp for air that wasn't there, but she had it worse.

She had to have it worse.

Blood sprayed from her nose as my fist connected again and again. I felt something crack beneath my knuckles, saw some of her teeth scatter across the stone. The whole time, that green smoke swirled around us like we were fighting in the belly of some toxic beast. Her other hand came up, not to fight but to plead, fingers splayed in a silent request for mercy.

I didn't hesitate, mom was laying there, dying, and I couldn't stop now, not for mercy. I hit her one more time, and her hand fell limply to her side, eyes rolling back.

I scrambled away from her now-still body, my hands shaking as I retrieved the respirator. Blood dripped from my split knuckles as I examined it - dirty and dented, but still functional. I tried not to look at her face as I moved away, tried not to think about how she would most likely die in the gray.

This was the Undercity.

I looked at the respirator one final time before I put it on my face and took in a deep breath.

It still worked.

I looked to where my mom's body lay eerily still, and crawled over to her, taking in as many breaths as I could through the blood-spattered mask. The metal was col against my face, and I could smell the distinct smell of blood, copper, still fresh on the metal.

I placed the mask on her face and began to plead, "Come on mom, breathe in. Please mom, breathe in."

No sound came from the mask.

"Dammit," I screamed, my voice raw and broken. I put the mask back to my face, sucking in another precious breath before placing it back on hers. With my free hand, I grabbed one of her arms and began to pull once more.

I only took the mask off her when it was absolutely necessary for myself, when black spots started dancing at the edges of my vision. Slowly, I trudged across the city, and after hours that seemed to have stretched on for days, the green smoke began to dissipate.

The yellow and green lights of the lowest parts of the fissures flickered like dying stars above us. I looked at my mom, finally allowing myself to fall backwards, my muscles trembling with exhaustion.

"I did it," I muttered through split and bleeding lips. "We did it mom. Mom?"

I slowly crept towards her, placing my ear to her chest. The silence that met me was deafening. I couldn't hear her heartbeat, couldn't feel the movement of her ribcage.

"No,no,no,no,no."

I placed my hands above her ribcage and began to push, just like she had taught me. Blood from my knuckles smeared across her dress with each compression.

"Come on mom, come on."

Over and over I pushed into her chest, just like my mom had told me to do in a situation like this. Each push sent fresh waves of pain through my battered hands, but I didn't stop.

Come on, come on.

I heard something crack, but I didn't stop. I continued to perform compressions, tears mixing with blood on my face.

Come on, come on, come on.

Another crack.

Come on, come on, come on.

Another crack.

"Hey kid!"

I didn't listen, I just continued to push, my whole world narrowed down to the rhythm of compressions.

"Is that a fucking enforcer respirator!"

I didn't listen and just continued, even as footsteps approached behind me.

CRACK

I looked at my mother's face, blood beginning to trickle down her mouth and cheek. The sight of it made something inside me crack too.

"MOM!"

"Looks like she didn't survive the gray outburst, cheap ass pilties and their ventilation systems."

I didn't stop, I just kept compressing her chest, my bloody hands slipping with each push.

"You think we can take him in?"

"I mean he's really small, like a rat, I'm sure he could fit in tight places."

"So what do you wanna do?"

"Let's take him in, one more mouth to feed but I'm sure we could get a better pool, you know how sentimental some filth get over kids."

"Okay then."

I felt a hand on my shoulder, then on my other. Through my tears, I saw a man walk in front of me and grab the respirator that had fallen to the side once I started to perform compressions. The enforcer mark on it was barely visible through all the blood.

The man grabbing my shoulders began to drag me away. I fought, kicked, scratched, but my body had nothing left to give.

"MOM!" I yelled "MOM!"

"Don't be so fucking noisy!"

I felt something hit me in the face, hard enough to make everything spin, and then the world went black. The last thing I saw was my mother's face, peaceful despite the blood, like she was just sleeping. Like any moment she would wake up and sing me to sleep one last time.