Meanwhile in Cortana's world,

The high-tech laboratory inside the ruins of Piltover Academy buzzed with a tense anticipation. The room, dimly lit by flickering lights and the soft glow of monitors, was filled with a diverse group of warriors, all waiting for Agent Jonesy to finish tinkering with a sleek, compact machine. The device, about the size of a small suitcase, was covered in a tangled mess of wires and glowing panels, with a control interface on one side. Jonesy, voiced by Ryan Reynolds, was furiously working on it, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Bangalore stood to the side, arms crossed as she kept a watchful eye on the process. Beside her, Mirage leaned in close, his usual smirk plastered on his face. "What if that thing doesn't work?" he whispered with a grin. "I mean, Jonesy looks like he's just guessing here."

Jonesy, without even turning away from his work, responded with a casual, sarcastic tone. "I heard that, Mirage. And for the record, I'm not guessing—I'm improvising. Big difference."

Mirage, unfazed, leaned back toward Bangalore with a chuckle. "You hear that, Bangs? 'Improvising.' That's just fancy talk for winging it."

Despite her attempt to maintain a serious demeanor, Bangalore couldn't help but crack a smile at Mirage's comment. She quickly suppressed it, focusing back on the device.

Finally, Jonesy stepped back from the machine, dusting off his hands with a satisfied grin. "Alright, it's done. Let's get this baby online."

With a flourish, he moved to the computer terminal and began typing away, narrating his actions as he went. "Once we get this activated and up and running, it should send out a signal strong enough to be tracked by any universe that's paying attention."

Ezio Auditore, ever the cautious strategist, stepped forward, his voice grave. "Are you certain this device is strong enough to break through whatever Cortana is doing to hide this universe?"

Jonesy nodded confidently but couldn't resist adding his usual flair. "Absolutely. Ran the tests myself... well, kind of. But hey, what's life without a little risk?"

Ezio's stern gaze didn't waver. "Good. Remember, we only have one shot at this."

Jonesy grinned, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. "And here we go."

He pressed the enter key with a dramatic flair, but... nothing happened. The room fell into an awkward silence. Nora stepped forward, concern etched on her face. "What happened? Why isn't it working?"

Jonesy stared at the screen in disbelief, his fingers flying across the keyboard as he tried to diagnose the problem. "I... I don't know. It should be working," he muttered, a hint of panic creeping into his voice.

Bangalore, growing impatient, crossed her arms and shot Jonesy a pointed look. "Did you break it?"

Jonesy whirled around, mock-offended. "Break it? No way! Do you have any idea how hard it was to get this thing working in the first place?"

Mirage, ever the joker, rolled his eyes and grinned. "Yeah, yeah. Sure, Jonesy. You're a real engineering genius. I'm still not convinced you didn't just slap it together with duct tape."

Jonesy smirked, shaking his head. "Well, duct tape works wonders, Mirage. Maybe next time, I'll let you tinker with it."

Arbiter, his deep voice cutting through the tension like a blade, spoke up sternly. "We need that device operational, Jonesy."

Jonesy, not looking up from the screen, muttered under his breath. "Arbiter, I love you alright? But what does it look like I'm doing? It's hard enough without everyone breathing down my neck."

Master Chief, always calm and pragmatic, took a step forward. "Is it off?" he asked, his voice level.

Jonesy paused mid-type, the question hanging in the air. "Is it off...?" he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He checked the system, and then his expression froze. A sheepish grin crept across his face as he realized his mistake. "Yep... it was off."

With a quick click, Jonesy turned the device on. It hummed softly as it powered up, the glow of its panels intensifying. Nora and Bangalore exchanged exasperated looks while Mirage stifled a laugh, leaning over to whisper to Bangalore. "I told you, he was guessing."

Undeterred, Jonesy rebooted the system with renewed determination. He muttered quietly to himself, "Here we go." This time, when he pressed enter, the device sprang to life. Lights blinked in rapid succession, and the hum of power grew louder as the machine began transmitting its signal.

Michael Torres, who had been watching in awe, spoke up, his voice filled with wonder. "Is it working?"

Jonesy, still staring at the device with a satisfied grin, nodded. "Oh, it's working, Michael J. Fox."

The group exhaled collectively, the tension in the room giving way to excitement. Cheers erupted as they hugged each other in celebration. Arbiter clapped solemnly, acknowledging the achievement, while Master Chief stood back, his stoic presence silently approving the success.

As the device continued to hum with life, Michael turned to Jonesy with a question. "Now that the device is up and running, how long will it take for someone to receive this beacon?"

Jonesy, still monitoring the system, raised an eyebrow at the question. "Good question," he mused, typing rapidly on the keyboard to check the data. "Considering this thing is made from scrap and various devices cobbled together... I'd say, about 20 minutes."

Bangalore nodded, satisfied. "20 minutes shouldn't be that bad. For now, let's celebrate—drinks are on me."

With that, she led the way out of the lab, her usual serious demeanor softened by the success. Ezio, Nora, Michael, and Mirage followed, their spirits lifted by the victory. As they exited, Jonesy glanced up from the screen and called after them with a playful grin. "Wait for me!"

The lab, now quiet except for the steady hum of the device, stood as a testament to their determination and resourcefulness. Despite the odds, they had succeeded in sending out the signal. Now, all that remained was to wait—and hope that someone, somewhere, would respond.

Jonesy jogged to catch up with the group, his footsteps quickening as they moved further ahead. Just as he was about to fall in step beside them, a hand landed firmly on his shoulder. He turned to see Arbiter, his expression as stoic as ever but with a glimmer of approval in his eyes.

"Well done," Arbiter said simply, his deep voice sincere.

Jonesy, slightly taken aback but appreciating the recognition, smiled and nodded. "Thanks, big guy."

With a silent understanding between them, the two warriors continued forward, following the others. However, as they walked away, Arbiter noticed something that made him slow his pace. Master Chief stood alone, his armored figure seemingly lost in thought, staring intently at a wall as if deep in contemplation.

Arbiter approached cautiously, sensing the weight of his friend's thoughts. He stepped beside Chief, his voice low and filled with concern. "Are you okay, Spartan?" he asked gently.

Master Chief, still facing the wall, didn't immediately answer. When he finally spoke, his voice was as reserved as always, but Arbiter could hear the heaviness behind his words. "You know I have to go back," Chief said quietly.

Arbiter, his heart heavy with understanding, nodded. He had fought alongside Chief long enough to know what lay beneath the surface of his words. "What will you do?" Arbiter asked softly.

Chief surprised Arbiter by speaking more than usual, his voice steady but laced with sadness. "I don't know. My world... it's already under Cortana's control. I've already lost her. My team... Kelly, Linda, Fred... even you... all gone."

There was a brief silence as the names of his fallen comrades from Blue Team hung in the air, their memories haunting the two warriors. Arbiter could feel the weight of Chief's grief, the losses they had both endured.

"There's still a chance," Arbiter said quietly, trying to offer a glimmer of hope. "A chance to restore your world."

Chief's voice held a note of doubt. "Is there really?"

Arbiter had no certain answer. He, too, felt the press of uncertainty, and the silence between them seemed to grow heavier. After a moment, Chief's voice cut through the stillness, steady but resigned. "My last mission is to ensure this device works... and wait until help comes. Once it's over, I'm going back to stop her."

"It doesn't have to be your last mission," Arbiter said firmly, a note of conviction in his voice. "And you don't have to face this alone. Even if your world is gone, there are other worlds out there—worlds that would welcome you."

But Chief, ever the pragmatist, responded with calm acceptance. "Maybe. But I'm not one to jump between worlds, Arbiter. My duty is to the one I've lost, and I can't abandon it... not until I know there's nothing left to fight for."

Arbiter nodded, understanding his friend's determination. They stood in silence for a moment longer, bound by their shared history, the weight of loss, and the uncertain future ahead.

However, the moment shifted to a more lighthearted setting inside a bar within the ruins of Piltover Academy. Nora, Ezio, Agent Jonesy, and Michael sat at a large table, sharing drinks with Bangalore, Mirage, and the rest of their team—Wraith, Octane, Bloodhound, Loba, and Lifeline. The atmosphere was warm, filled with laughter and the camaraderie that came after a hard-won victory.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Mirage, always the showman, raised his glass with a wide grin. "Cheers to getting out of here!" he declared enthusiastically.

"Cheers!" the group echoed in unison, their glasses clinking together.

As the noise of celebration settled, Loba leaned in closer, her tone thoughtful, though tinged with concern. "Do you think it's possible to head back to our own universes?" she asked, her sharp eyes scanning the group.

Jonesy, ever practical, responded with a hint of caution in his voice. "It's not certain. Cortana's already invaded most of our universes... Going back might be a one-way trip—straight to our deaths."

Lifeline frowned, her worry evident. "So what are our options if we can't go back?" she asked, her voice edged with frustration.

Ezio, who had been quietly observing the conversation, set down his drink and leaned in. His calm yet serious tone reflected the wisdom he had gathered over many lifetimes. "During the meeting I observed using the Chrono Amulet, they spoke of using Piltover as a base of operations. For now, it seems our best option is to regroup here, in their world. Focus our efforts, find our footing... and then deal with Cortana."

Octane, ever the optimist, immediately jumped on the idea, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "I like that idea! New base, more space to run around—and less chance of getting killed. I'm in!"

Mirage, leaning back with a smirk, raised his glass once more. "Well, that just means I get to spend more time with you fine people," he quipped lightheartedly.

Bangalore, usually stern, allowed her expression to soften for a moment. "If only Mason was here to see this," she said quietly, her voice tinged with a note of reflection.

A brief pause followed as the group felt the absence of their fallen comrade. The atmosphere grew a bit heavier, the weight of loss settling in. Sensing the shift, Nora decided to raise their spirits. She lifted her bottle, her expression confident but lighthearted. "Mason wouldn't want us sitting here moping," she said with a grin. "So, here's to him—and to the fight ahead. Let's make sure his sacrifice wasn't in vain."

The group, comforted by her words, followed suit, lifting their glasses.

"To Mason," Nora said resolutely.

"To Mason," the others echoed.

As the group continued their fellowship, the mood lightened once more. Amidst the laughter and conversation, Michael's gaze shifted toward the doorway, where he spotted his mother, Emily, standing quietly with a warm smile on her face. Without hesitation, he rose from his seat and made his way over to her, pulling her into a gentle hug.

"How are you holding up, Mom?" he asked softly, his voice filled with concern.

Emily looked up at her son, still smiling, her voice reassuring. "I'm okay, Michael," she said gently.

Emily Torres glanced over at the group Michael had been celebrating with, a diverse and lively bunch whose camaraderie was palpable even from a distance. A soft smile played on her lips as she observed them. "It seems you've made some new friends," she remarked, her voice gentle yet filled with pride.

Michael turned to look at the group, his heart swelling with warmth. He nodded, his smile broad and filled with gratitude. "Yes," he said softly. "Great ones."

Emily, still holding Michael close, looked up at him with shining eyes, pride evident in her gaze. "I'm so proud of you, Michael," she whispered warmly. "You've grown into such a strong man, always fighting for what's right, clinging to what is good, and standing firm against evil."

Michael felt the weight of her words, the depth of her love and admiration, and it filled him with a mixture of emotions. He offered a slight smile, though there was a hint of doubt lingering in his expression. "I try, Mom," he said humbly. "Even if I'm still figuring things out."

Emily's gaze softened further, her voice filled with compassion and encouragement. "If your father were here, he would be so proud of you."

At the mention of his father, Michael's demeanor shifted abruptly. The warmth in his smile faded, replaced by a sudden flash of pain and anger. He pulled away slightly, his voice sharp. "Don't talk about him, Mom," he said, the tension in his words unmistakable. "I'm not ready for that."

Emily's face fell at his reaction, her own expression filled with regret as she realized she had touched a nerve. "I'm sorry, Michael," she said quickly, her voice apologetic. "I didn't mean to upset you."

Michael sighed, realizing the sharpness in his tone. His anger melted into guilt, and he softened his voice as he responded. "No, I'm sorry," he said, meeting her eyes. "I didn't mean to snap at you."

Emily, sensing he was still open to listening, gently pressed on. Her voice was filled with love and understanding. "Your father wasn't perfect, Michael, but he loved you with all his heart. He always wanted the best for you, even when he didn't know how to show it. He made mistakes... we all do. But he would be proud to see the man you've become—the man who fights for others, who stands up for what's right, just like he tried to do in his own way."

Michael stood quietly for a moment, absorbing her words. His face remained conflicted, the emotions of unresolved pain and anger swirling beneath the surface. He nodded slowly, acknowledging her words, but the mention of his father had stirred something deep within him, something he hadn't yet dealt with fully. "I hear you, Mom," he said at last, his voice strained. "I do. But it's still... hard."

Emily smiled gently, her hand reaching out to squeeze his arm. "I know, Michael," she said reassuringly. "It's okay to feel that way. Just know that you're not alone in this."

Michael nodded again, appreciating her comfort, even if he wasn't ready to let go of his feelings just yet. The moment between them was charged with a mixture of love, pain, and the complicated emotions that come with loss and unfinished conversations. They stood together, mother and son, connected by their shared grief yet separated by the scars left behind by the past.

Back in Earth-749 of Piltover,

The streets had quieted as Caitlyn and Vi walked slowly side by side outside the Piltover Academy. The heavy atmosphere that clung to the city was almost tangible, a stark contrast to the earlier celebrations. As they moved forward, the weight of recent events bore down on them, and they found themselves reflecting in silence.

"It's over..." Vi said thoughtfully, her voice tinged with a weariness that went deeper than physical exhaustion. "But it doesn't feel like it, does it?"

Caitlyn nodded in agreement, her voice soft. "No, it doesn't," she replied. "Sevika's gone, but the scars she left behind... they're not going away anytime soon."

They continued walking in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. After a few moments, Caitlyn broke the quiet, her tone cautious and uncertain. "What do you think happens now?" she asked, her eyes searching Vi's face. "For us... for Piltover?"

Vi glanced over at her, considering the question carefully. Her usual tough exterior seemed to soften just a bit, revealing the vulnerability she rarely let others see. "I don't know, Cait," she admitted honestly. "We've been through a lot—more than most people can handle. But I guess... we just keep going. Keep fighting for what we believe in."

Caitlyn nodded, though her expression remained contemplative. "Yeah... and what about us?" she asked, her voice quiet. "You and me?"

Vi stopped walking, turning to face Caitlyn fully. The question hung in the air between them, heavy with unspoken feelings. But Vi didn't shy away from it. "I want to keep going, Cait," she said softly, her voice full of sincerity. "With you. Whatever the future holds... I want us to face it together."

Caitlyn's gaze softened, a small smile forming on her lips as she nodded in agreement. "Together," she echoed warmly.

They resumed their walk, their newfound sense of unity palpable in the quiet that followed. But before they could delve any deeper into their conversation, two Piltover officers approached, escorting Jinx and Ekko between them. One of the officers addressed Caitlyn with respect.

"We brought them as you asked, Enforcer," the officer said formally.

Caitlyn's expression shifted as she regarded Jinx and Ekko, a complex mix of emotions crossing her face. She thanked the officers with a polite nod. "Thank you," she said, her voice laced with gratitude but also weighed down by the difficult road ahead.

As Jinx steps forward and sees Vi, her face lights up with a rare smile. Ignoring the weight of the moment, she rushes forward and hugs her sister tightly. Vi returns the embrace, her own relief tempered by the worry in her eyes.

Around them, Piltover civilians and officers pause to observe. Many of their faces twist in disgust, their whispers carrying through the air. They remember too well the chaos Jinx had unleashed. To them, she's still a criminal, a volatile figure who nearly destroyed their city. The tension is palpable, and Jinx can feel the judgment in every glance, but in Vi's arms, she finds a brief refuge from the weight of her past.

Jinx: (Clinging to Vi, with a mix of desperation and relief) "Vi..."

Vi: (Gently, comforting her) "Hey, Powder. It's okay."

For a moment, Jinx just stared at Caitlyn, her emotions swirling beneath the surface. When she finally spoke, her voice was guarded, a mix of wariness and curiosity. "You're still here. You... still mad about what happened? About me hitting you back then?"

Caitlyn paused, the memories of their past clashing with the present. Though those events had occurred three years ago, they still lingered in her mind—the fights, the chaos, the destruction Jinx had wrought. But time had changed things. Caitlyn had seen the shift in Jinx, even if the scars she had left on Piltover still remained. Slowly, steadily, Jinx was making amends, not just with the city but within herself.

Caitlyn's expression softened as she met Jinx's eyes, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Things have changed," she said gently. "I've seen that. What you did... it left its mark, but I can see you're trying. That's what matters."

Jinx blinked, surprised by Caitlyn's response, unsure of how to process it. Caitlyn smiled at her, her voice steady and reassuring. "I'm not going anywhere, Jinx."

It wasn't a complete forgiveness, but it was a step toward understanding, a step toward something new between them.

Jinx smiled at Caitlyn, knowing deep down that she had been forgiven for the past, despite the pain they had all endured. But when she turned her gaze back to Vi, the familiar sting of hurt resurfaced, laced with an unspoken accusation.

"Why didn't you bring me to fight Sevika?" Jinx asked, her voice soft but tinged with a quiet ache. "You knew I had a score to settle with her too."

Vi let out a heavy sigh, the weight of their shared history pressing down on her. She met Jinx's gaze, searching for the right words—words that wouldn't reopen old wounds but would explain why she had made the choice she did.

"I didn't bring you because... I couldn't risk losing you again, Powder," Vi said, her voice soft but resolute. "After everything that happened with Silco, with us... I couldn't let you get hurt. Sevika, she's dangerous. I didn't want you caught in the middle of that again."

Jinx studied Vi's face, her own emotions swirling inside her. She felt frustrated, angry even, that she had been left out of such an important moment. But she also understood. Vi was trying to protect her, even if it hurt to be excluded. Still, the sting of being left behind lingered.

"I could've helped, Vi," Jinx muttered, a hint of frustration in her voice. "I wanted to help."

Vi nodded, acknowledging Jinx's feelings, understanding the pain of being sidelined. "I know, Powder. I know you could've," she said gently. "But I didn't want to put you in that kind of danger again. I need you safe."

Jinx's head lowered, her frustration slowly melting into a quieter, more vulnerable emotion. "I just... don't want to be left behind," she whispered, her voice soft with a mix of acceptance and hurt.

As Jinx's words hung in the air, they triggered a painful memory in Vi's mind, one that she had tried to bury but could never fully escape. The echo of younger Jinx's anguished cry rang in her head, pulling her back to that moment years ago.

"Why did you leave me?!" Younger Jinx's voice echoed, filled with heartbreak and desperation.

Vi's own younger voice followed, sharp and laced with regret. "Because you're a Jinx!"

The memory struck Vi hard, making her heart ache. She instinctively closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to steady herself before opening them again. But this time was different. She was here now, standing beside her sister, and she would never let Jinx feel abandoned again.

With a gentle touch, Vi lifted Jinx's chin, guiding her to meet her eyes. A reassuring smile spread across Vi's face, full of warmth and determination. "You're not left behind, Powder. You're with me. Always," she said, her voice tender but strong.

Jinx, still caught in the swirl of conflicting emotions, wrapped her arms around Vi again, holding her tightly. Though a part of her still felt the sting of being left out, another part of her was beginning to understand. In Vi's embrace, she felt the quiet reassurance she had longed for.

Vi held her close, her arms offering the comfort and safety Jinx so desperately needed. As they stood there, enveloped in each other's embrace, Vi looked up and caught Caitlyn's gaze across the way. Caitlyn met her eyes, and a soft, knowing smile passed between them. It was a silent acknowledgment that maybe, just maybe, things were starting to heal—if only for now.