Bensso's General Store – Storage Room
Thunk!
With a click, the main lights in the storage room flickered on. Blinding white light flooded the entire space, sweeping away the darkness and revealing the full view inside.
The underground storeroom of Bensso's general store stretched the size of a basketball court. It was lined wall to wall with shelves crammed full of goods, some sorted, others haphazardly stacked, and even the corners were piled with miscellaneous materials and half-finished contraptions.
"Whoa! Bensso's got some serious loot down here!" Mylo whistled as he strolled toward a shelf, grabbing a small gadget and twirling it between his fingers. Vi picked up a helmet from another rack and grinned. "Of course. Bensso's the biggest fence in the entire Undercity. He's got more stock than you'll see in a lifetime."
"Shorty, have you been down here before?" Powder crouched in a dusty corner, digging through piles of junk. Ekko scratched his white buzzcut sheepishly. "Yeah, I've helped Bensso clean up this place before, but he told me not to tell anyone."
"Don't flaunt your fortune, if word gets out, it's a disaster waiting to happen." Duke was wandering through the shelves, scanning for anything useful. The Colleen Workshop had its own forging room tucked underground, usually reserved for crafting intricate clockwork parts, strictly for Colleen's use. Duke's former self had only ever helped out, never worked solo.
But things were different now. He probably had the right to use it, though his armor would have to be forged in secret. With a Hex Crystal in hand, he also needed to redesign his energy system.
Let's grab a few materials and see if the wealth value of these and the Hex Crystal can be extracted. If so, I can unlock the energy system blueprints.
Even a lump of dung might have value in this system.
He picked up a half-body breastplate and stashed it in his inventory. The metal could be melted down for his armor's outer shell.
"Duke, what exactly are you looking for? We can help you find it!" Vi peered through a gap between shelves as Duke fiddled with a short-barreled lever-action pistol.
"Armor. Clockwork constructs. Rare ores. That's what I'm after."
"Got it! Let's all pitch in!" Vi rallied the others. While the group scoured the warehouse, Duke continued sorting, melting down armor for plating, analyzing the inner mechanics of clockwork constructs to refine his own designs, and salvaging components for reuse.
Outer armor and internal parts required different materials, and these constructs were goldmines for scrap.
As for ore? That was just another form of raw resource.
Unlike Iron Man, who had Tony Stark's wealth and factories and could blow up billion-dollar suits like party favors, complete with AI support, Duke had to grind everything himself. He had to extract wealth value, buy his own materials, forge by hand, and stay under the radar. It was exhausting.
"Look! A sword from Demacia, razor sharp!" Mylo swung a broken longsword with flair. Claggor pulled out a short axe. "A Noxian battle axe... No wonder they're called war machines!"
"Those two countries are full of meatheads. Especially Noxians," Vi scoffed.
Duke, unfazed, said, "One of the current Piltover councilors is actually from a Noxian family."
"What?! A Noxian became a Piltover councilor?"
The others gaped in shock. Duke shrugged. "Yeah. An exile, actually. Too kind and idealistic for their liking."
"Isn't that a good thing?" Ekko asked. Powder hugged a clockwork toy and nodded eagerly.
Duke stopped what he was doing and explained patiently, "Not to Noxians. They worship war and power. To them, kindness is weakness."
"They're an imperial regime, but rumor has it they might shift toward a council system too."
"What about Demacia?" Powder asked quickly. She was clearly impressed by Duke's knowledge.
"Demacians are idiots," Duke snorted.
"Huh?" the others blinked.
"They hate mages. Fear them. Yet their nobles secretly keep mages in cages, or are mages themselves."
"Why?" Powder asked.
"Who knows. That's why I call them hypocrites," Duke said, remembering Galio. Crafted entirely from Demacian petricite, Galio's body absorbed magic rather than nullified it. The Demacians never realized that their so-called anti-magic stone actually absorbed spells. That absorption created the illusion of suppression.
Fill the stone, and it became the best magical conduit.
Maybe I should forge an anti-magic suit using petricite... Duke mused, picking up a tiny Frostblade dagger from the Freljord. It was about the size of a baby's palm, probably a broken spearhead reworked into a blade.
Weapons used by Ashe, Braum, Sejuani, and Trundle were all made of True Ice.
"Piltover and Zaun are still the best," Powder sighed. Vi snorted. "Those top-siders never saw us as people anyway."
As the sisters bickered, Duke said nothing. Soon, a large pile of materials was stacked at the door. Duke squatted in front of it, sorting through components. One by one, items disappeared into his inventory, much to everyone's shock.
"Wait… is this magic?" Ekko poked Mylo.
"Just a little trick," Duke said casually.
After stashing a broken Ionian blade, he noticed a thick hemp rope in the pile. Lifting it, he saw a palm-sized amulet hanging from the end.
It was deep blue and gold. On the front, an imprint of a bluebird; on the back, an abstract design of wind. It was warm to the touch, as if it had been held for years.
"Who added this?" Duke asked.
Powder raised her hand sheepishly. "Me. It looked like a crafted gem, so I tossed it in."
"This is a great find, Powder! You helped a ton!" Duke said with a grin. Rummaging through his inventory, he pulled out a familiar object and handed it to her.
"A bat?!"
"A cool one," Duke said.
Powder clutched the graffiti-covered bat, eyes gleaming. She loved it instantly. Vi frowned. "This thing looks kinda..."
"It probably killed someone," Duke added offhandedly.
"What?!"
"Relax. I picked it up by chance. Its previous owner was a crazy girl. It's well-balanced and durable, perfect for Powder. And the paint gives it a sort of... artistic flair. Good for her creativity, don't you think?"
Vi rolled her eyes. I'm tossing this thing in the sewer later.
Duke coughed lightly and raised the amulet. "Let's get back to this, this is a real treasure."
"It's just a rock," Mylo scoffed. The others looked unimpressed.
"This," Duke said, "is the Azure Amulet. Judging by the wear, it likely belonged to a devoted follower. It might serve as a conduit to communicate with one of... Zaun's gods."
"Zaun has gods?" Everyone shouted.
"I said might," Duke clarified. "Don't be so dramatic."
"But there aren't any gods in Zaun," Powder said.
"Not gods in the traditional sense," Duke explained. "She was a wind spirit, long ago, who protected sailors and fishermen at sea."
"She was worshipped back when Zaun was a bustling port, a hub for trade and travel."
As Duke spoke, a faint breeze swirled through the warehouse. It felt as if something, or someone, was listening.
"Even then, she guided and sheltered those at sea."
"Then why don't people know her now?" Powder asked softly. Duke gently ruffled her hair.
"Because greed and ambition blinded them. More and more people fell in love with machines and progress. Science swept across Zaun like a storm. Everyone believed technology could solve everything."
"So they forgot her."
"Does she have a name?" Ekko asked dreamily.
Holding the amulet, Duke traced the sky-blue bird engraved on its surface. He thought of the time he played Janna support and carried a 1v5.
"Her name is Janna, the Storm's Fury."
"If the smog ever blinds you, call her name, and the wind will guide you."
As Duke spoke, a soft breeze swirled around them. Dust scattered, whisked away by invisible currents.
But none of the others noticed. They were lost in the story.
Claggor suddenly asked, "What does she look like?"
"A saintly woman in sheer robes. Elegant, beautiful. Long, pointed ears. And..."
Duke smirked. "A giant broom for hair!"
Thwack!
The group stared in shock as a glowing sky-blue bird flew above Duke's head. It winked at them, then morphed into a palm-shaped gust of wind and smacked Duke square on the rear.
A whisper followed, soft and ethereal:
"I most certainly have flowing, graceful hair! You cheeky brat, I've got my eye on you!!"
Only Duke heard it. Face twitching, he roared internally: You petty storm hag, your mom's dead!!
The bird circled once and vanished, leaving behind one final echo:
"Do not fear the winds of change, they will always carry you forward!"