Arcane: TTB: Ch. 150

Emystan's plan had merit. Under different circumstances, with better intelligence, it might have even worked. But she was operating with incomplete information. And in high-stakes negotiations, a single miscalculation could spiral into disaster.

The Clan Ferros had maintained dominance over Piltover and Zaun for generations. Even after the Hexgate had emerged, they'd continued to act as Piltover's shadow rulers.

That stability had rested on two pillars: protection from the Black Rose, and the Pale Woman's personal favor toward Camille.

If not for the complication of Janna's resurrection, and Camille's blood feud with Zaun, the Pale Woman would never have abandoned such a useful asset so easily. The Black Rose had plenty of simple weapons. Sharp, intelligent ones were rare.

Compared to the Black Rose's resources and reach, Emystan was nothing. A regional commander with delusions of importance. Once Camille lost the Pale Woman's backing, Emystan couldn't protect her even if she wanted to.

"The Clan Ferros and Zaun are enemies. Right now, we're in the same boat. I'll ensure your safety for the time being. But your reinforcements need to arrive soon. Against a coordinated assault from both cities, I won't be able to hold out indefinitely."

She set down her teacup and rose to leave. "If you need me to handle anything specific, say so now. I still have to relocate the family's remaining assets to deeper cover."

"Nothing for now," Emystan replied, lounging in her chair. "I'll contact you if something comes up. Here's to productive cooperation."

She didn't doubt Camille's words. Why would she? The Clan Ferros losing control of Piltover and Zaun meant inevitable retribution. As the most capable operative, it made perfect sense for Camille to consolidate their position.

Emystan had no grounds to keep her there.

---

By evening, Camille stood atop a mountain peak in the northern range overlooking both cities.

The view was spectacular. Rolling green hills stretched out below, and the two cities glittered in the distance. The only drawback was the wind, strong and biting cold at this altitude.

She took a moment to appreciate the scenery, then began setting up for the meeting.

From her pack, she produced a portable table, two chairs, a tea set, and a container of water. She arranged everything, then sat down and crossed her legs elegantly.

The tea set itself was a Hextech device, powered by a small crystal that heated water to perfect temperature. Wasteful, perhaps, but she had always maintained certain standards.

She was a precision instrument in every sense. Punctual to the second.

Fortunately, so was Cipher.

Just as the water reached optimal temperature, space itself rippled. Four metallic devices materialized in midair, rotating and expanding. They carved a doorway through reality.

Cipher and Silco stepped through the portal, emerging onto the mountaintop.

Camille's pupils contracted.

She'd suspected Zaun had advanced transportation technology, but this exceeded her projections by an order of magnitude.

The Hexgate required infrastructure at both endpoints. Building time, massive investment, political coordination. This portal technology had none of those constraints. At least, none she could immediately identify. Revealing such a critical asset so openly sent a clear message: if negotiations failed, she wouldn't be leaving this mountain alive.

A small blue bird perched on Cipher's shoulder, tilting its head curiously as it studied her.

As a native of Piltover, she knew exactly what that bird represented.

"So that's the Goddess Janna," she said quietly.

"Don't call me a goddess," the bird replied. "I'm not some distant deity. I'm family to everyone who follows the winds of change."

"Enough pleasantries," Cipher cut in, sitting down across from her. Silco took the other chair. "Let's talk business. Our time is valuable."

He reached up to pat Janna's head. The bird immediately pecked his hand.

Silco looked at Camille and said, "I'll admit, this is a nice touch. It shows you still have some humanity left in there somewhere."

He gestured at the tea set and the chosen location. "Good view, too. You've got taste."

"Tea before business," Camille replied, completely ignoring his attempt to establish conversational dominance. "It's civilized."

She began the preparation. Not the elaborate ceremony of Ionian tea culture, she wasn't trying to impress them with mysticism. Just the simple process of brewing a quality cup.

Her movements were controlled.

Silco watched her, his initial power play deflected. But he didn't seem discouraged. If anything, his smile widened.

"Let's cut to it," he said, lighting a cigar. "What are you offering? You nearly killed us five years ago. So what's valuable enough to make Zaun forget that?"

He exhaled smoke toward the sky, settling back in his chair. "Because right now, I'm not seeing it."

"Everything Emystan knows," Camille said without looking up from the tea. "Every piece of intelligence she's gathered."

She poured three cups, and slid them across the table.

"This particular blend is from Fae'lor in Ionia. It's infused with residual magical energy from the region's spiritual activity. Rare, and getting rarer. The groves that produce these leaves are dying out."

Cipher picked up one of the cups and held it toward Janna. He remembered how scalding hot this tea was. Better to let the wind spirit test the temperature first.

He got pecked again.

"Emystan isn't enough," Silco said flatly. "We could capture her any time we wanted. We just haven't bothered yet because she's not worth the effort. What you've offered so far is insulting. You'd need to do better than this to buy off a street beggar, let alone Zaun."

"She's enlisted General Du Couteau's assassins," Camille said calmly, taking a sip of her own tea. The heat didn't bother her, she'd long since had her pain receptors modified.

"Let them come," Silco said with a cold laugh. "Assassins mean nothing in a city where every street corner has surveillance coverage."

He stood up, towering over her. His mechanical eye blazed crimson as he stared her down. "Your time is limited. Our patience is limited. Zaun stands for progress now. We'd prefer not to engage in the kind of ugly purges that damage reputations. Frankly, the Clan Ferros isn't even worth getting our hands dirty over."

"I know what you want," Camille said, meeting his gaze without flinching. "The Black Rose."

She rotated her teacup slowly. "They betrayed me first. So I have no loyalty left to give them. But if I'm providing that kind of intelligence, I need assurances from Zaun."

Silco studied her. Then he picked up his teacup.

"In that case, here's to a productive partnership."

---

Several days later, late in the evening, an airship passed through the Hexgate and materialized in Piltover's airspace.

"Routine inspection," the dockside inspector called out, approaching the vessel. "I need to see your cargo manifest."

Since Jayce had consolidated power, he'd launched an aggressive anti-corruption campaign. The Hexgate had been a cesspool of bribery and graft for years, basically everyone involved in its operation had been taking cuts. He had cleaned house completely, replacing the entire staff with fresh recruits.

The new inspectors were young, fit, and unconventional. Bold haircuts, visible tattoos, the kind of people who looked like they'd be more at home in Zaun's undercity than Piltover's docks. The current inspector had a full sleeve of ink visible beneath his uniform, and his neck bore what looked like gang markings from the Lanes.

Nobody asked where Jayce had found these people. What mattered was they took the job seriously and didn't pocket bribes.

Jayce was happy with the arrangement. It freed him up to focus on his real passion. He'd seen Cipher's surveillance network in action and been deeply envious. Now that the crisis had passed, he'd requested copies of the technical specifications.

He was determined to build Piltover's own drone fleet and surveillance infrastructure.

"Here's the manifest, sir," the ship's cargo handler said, offering a clipboard with a friendly smile.

The man glanced around nervously, checking to make sure nobody was watching. Then, moving carefully, he produced a small coin purse from inside his wide sleeve and extended it toward the inspector.

"Don't," the inspector said coldly, pushing the bribe away. "As long as you're not running prohibited goods, I've got no reason to hassle you. Keep your money."

The cargo handler looked confused. "Uh... of course. Please, go ahead with the inspection."

He was a fruit merchant from Shurima, running high-end produce to Piltover every couple of weeks. Bribes had always been standard operating procedure. But it had only been a few months, and the entire system had changed?

The inspector ignored the man's confusion and boarded the airship, making his way toward the refrigerated cargo hold.

The storage units were all Hextech-powered, using crystal energy for cooling. Shuriman fruit was prized for its quality but spoiled quickly. In the past, merchants had used expensive ice shipments to preserve it. These days, Hextech refrigeration was actually more cost-effective.

The inspector opened several compartments, scanning them with his flashlight. Everything appeared normal. Fresh fruit, proper storage temperatures, documentation that matched the manifest.

Then his light caught something in the corner. A hatch leading down to a lower compartment.

"What's down there?" he asked the merchant.

"Uh..." The man scratched his head nervously. "That's a passenger. VIP client. A friend of mine asked me to give her transport. I don't really know much about her."

"Open it," the inspector said, pointing his flashlight at the hatch. "I want to see."

The merchant hesitated. That Noxian woman was not someone to be trifled with. He'd gotten extremely bad vibes from her the entire journey.

"Now," the inspector added.

The inspection job was only his cover. His real position was reserve security officer with Zaun's Bureau of Public Safety. This Piltover gig was a side assignment, his primary mission was identifying potential threats before they could reach Zaun.

Any suspicious space needed to be checked.

"Alright," the merchant said reluctantly. "But that lady is intense. Please be careful."

He was already trying to cover himself in case things went sideways.

The merchant knocked on the hatch. "Miss Katarina? The airship is undergoing routine inspection. May we come down?"

"Enter," a cool female voice answered from below.

With her permission, the merchant opened the hatch and descended the ladder, the inspector following close behind.

The lower compartment was pitch black.

The inspector frowned, sweeping his flashlight across the space. The darkness felt deliberate. What kind of person chose to sit in complete darkness?

"Don't take another step."

A voice spoke from behind him.

The inspector spun around, one hand instinctively going to his weapon. But there was nobody there except the merchant looking equally startled.

"Idiot. Watch your feet."

A woman emerged from the shadows like she'd been part of them. Slim build, long crimson hair, and a scar running down from the corner of her left eye. Far from marring her appearance, the scar added to it. She looked like someone who'd danced on knife edges and come out the other side more dangerous for it.

The inspector looked down.

The floor was covered in traps. Bear traps, tripwires, spring-loaded blade launchers. The kind of paranoid defensive setup you'd see from someone who expected assassins around every corner.

"What the hell..." he muttered.

His training at Zaun's Academy had covered a lot of scenarios. This wasn't one of them.

He was about to ask her some questions when she simply turned and climbed the ladder, disappearing into the main cargo hold above.

"Wait!" He grabbed his hat to keep it from falling and scrambled up after her. "I've got questions!"

But when he emerged topside, she was gone. Only he and the confused merchant remained, staring at each other.

"What's her business in Piltover?" the inspector demanded.

"I don't know," the merchant said honestly. "She forced her way onto my ship. It cost me half my cargo capacity, I have to make an extra run now. Shurima's not exactly safe these days, but I could tell she was dangerous. I didn't ask questions."

"Damn it," the inspector cursed, already pulling out his communicator to report back to Zaun.

---

"We've confirmed the identity," one of Cipher's analysts said, pulling up a file on the main display. "The assassin General Du Couteau sent is Katarina. She is his eldest daughter."

Cipher raised an eyebrow.

Du Couteau had been a Black Rose ally for decades. But Katarina wasn't part of the organization, and her relationship with her father was notoriously toxic. After her first mission had failed, Du Couteau had sent Talon to kill her. From that moment, she had known exactly what she was to her father: a disposable tool.

The interesting part was the lore connection. In the original timeline, Katarina ended up supporting Swain's coup. She'd become one of his most loyal operatives, and he had invested heavily in her development.

Now, with Du Couteau sending Katarina to assassinate the leadership of Piltover and Zaun, he was essentially throwing her away. He was sending her on a suicide mission with the expectation that she'd fail and die in the attempt.

But with Zaun's surveillance network and intelligence capabilities, this "mission" would end only one way: with Katarina captured, turned, and recruited.

Cipher was already mentally drafting the thank-you note to Du Couteau for his generous contribution to Zaun's development.

"You look pleased with yourself," Powder said, pouring him tea with a smile.

Ever since the Crimson Elite situation, she'd been staying close. Not possessively, exactly, but definitely keeping tabs on things.

"We need a proper intelligence network," Cipher replied, accepting the tea. "And General Du Couteau still goes out of his way to help us solve that problem. How could I not be delighted?"

He took a sip, unable to suppress his grin.

"Du Couteau and the Black Rose... Truly generous benefactors."