Call 1.6

2000, May 10: Phoenix, AZ, USA

I didn't see the problem with Ms. Youngston or the PRT PR department as a whole. Their stated mission was to integrate capes into society. Public relations was always going to play a major part in that. Once I put aside the knee-jerk response of bitching against the establishment ingrained in me by both canon and fanon, she was honestly fairly reasonable. She listened to most of my wants, got rid of the more ridiculous outfits, and gave me a choice between four or five that the director had pre-approved.

'Maybe the wands were just to soften me up for the "least shitty option,"' I mused. Would I have preferred to have my own image? Of course. But this wasn't nearly as bad as I'd been lead to believe. It helped that I had an image-friendly power, unlike her majesty the Queen of Escalation.

After my meeting with the head of PR, I had some free time to kill so I headed back to the Wards section. I was surprised to find only Stingray, Penelope. She sat in front of three computer screens that doubled as our console. She was in costume, with a large pair of headphones and mic over her mask. Seeing me, she waved me over with a happy smile. She tapped something on the mic and faced me.

"Mute button. Hey, Rubedo, how's it going?"

"Not bad, just got out of a meeting with PR." I yanked a chair over and sat next to her. "Where's everyone else?"

"Raquel's got gymnastics practice. Dave and Jazz are on patrol right now." She gestured to one of the monitors, where I could see the pair walking down a street in downtown. Jazz was in her stage magician outfit and signing autographs while Dave twirled his lasso for the crowd. "Call them Ranchero and Hat Trick while on console though. Not everyone in the PRT knows who we are so it's just good opsec. Ah, 'opsec' is short for 'operational security.'"

I nodded indulgently. "Right. What exactly do you do on console?"

She passed me a spare set of headphones and unmuted herself. "Stingray back online. I have Rubedo with me, Agent Carter. Mind explaining what we do on console?"

"Sure, Stingray. And it's a pleasure to meet you, Rubedo," came a warm female voice. "Console is what we call general overwatch and communications management. Every Wards and Protectorate HQ has one of these desks you're sitting in. These desks patch you through to the PRT console, where agents like me can teach you some of the operational protocols. Do you understand so far?"

I smiled. In a city that wasn't Brockton, it made sense for Wards console to be a training module more than anything. "Makes sense. So what should I know?"

"Let's start with the projected patrol routes. Stingray?"

"Yes, Agent Carter," the blonde said dutifully. She hit some keys on the keyboard and brought up a map of the city. "See this? The bright blue line is Ranchero and Hat Trick's patrol routes. The muted blue lines are Protectorate patrol routes."

I saw several blue dots moving along their respective lines. "How long does a patrol take?"

"It depends, Rubedo. Wards only patrol for two or three hours at most so we get much shorter routes. The Protectorate can have much longer routes."

"Why are the routes so close together?" I asked, though I could guess. Of the four active routes, two, the one Ranchero was leading and a Protectorate route, were almost neck and neck, just four streets over.

"Wards are not meant to get into active engagements," Agent Carter said over the mic. "A Protectorate patrol is always nearby just in case something goes wrong or you require additional assistance."

"How often does that happen?"

"Not very," Stingray said. "And when it does happen, it's almost always not combat related. For example, the other day, Bandit and I had to go find someone's lost dog so we had to deviate from the route a little while Royalle and Hotflash did double duty with our patrol for a bit."

The rest of their impromptu lesson was surprisingly informative, covering everything from first aid protocols to what we should do if confronted by villains. Really, that last one boiled down to "Disengage, retreat, and dial for backup," but it was helpful nonetheless. I was a little surprised to hear that Wards were allowed to handle nonviolent crimes like purse snatching. I'd figured that the PRT would order us to avoid any and all scenarios that had the potential to escalate to violence.

'Glad we're not being treated completely with bubble wrap.'

From what Stingray and Agent Carter told me, most Wards activities fell into three categories: community outreach, standard patrols for street-level misdemeanors, and emergency rescue work. I decided then and there that I would focus on the latter. Along with Raquel, I was likely the best suited for rescue work.

As if summoned by thought, the "mask on" buzzer rang and Penelope turned to greet Raquel as she skipped into the room. "Hi, Penny! Hi, Andy!" She wore an infectious smile. Coupled with her fuzzy costume, she looked almost as young as me.

"In costume, Bandit," Penelope admonished. "And don't call me Penny."

She ignored our captain and gave her a hug. "But Penny works so well." In an instant, my ears felt the cool air in the room. She was wearing my headset. "Hi, Hat Trick! Hi, Ranchero!" she babbled into the mic.

"At least she remembers to use codenames over the mic," Penelope grumbled.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Raquel frowned and pulled the headphones from her head. "Meanies."

I shot Penelope a questioning look. "She got scolded by PRT console for chattering on patrol," she explained.

"Meanies," the shorter girl pouted.

"Meanies," I nodded with her. "Want to check out my lab? They should have some of it set up already."

It was funny how she did a full one-eighty. "Is that ready?'

"Mostly. I was promised an industrial grade centrifuge and electrolysis machine so I can separate chemicals, but those are taking a while to arrive."

"Oh, poo. Your lab just looks like my school's chemistry lab…"

"Well… yeah? I mean… alchemy."

"Nah, no thanks."

"Suit yourself. If any of you need me, I'll be in my room."

I spent the rest of my time with the Wards in meditation, churning out Mana Crystals as quickly as I could. Something about my actions yesterday allowed me to reinforce my connection to the World Rune. Absent other evidence, I had to assume it was because I finally got off my ass and made some new things. Did that mean the World Rune had a conscience? Was a Shard masquerading as a World Rune and using my memories to fill in the gaps? I was certain it wasn't the latter, but aside from my own conviction, I had no real proof.

Still, if my power wanted to be used, I'd use it.

As I worked, I thought about my "specialization." Runeterra. What could I make? Hell, what did I want to make? Off the cuff, Professor Cecil B. Heimerdinger was the greatest mind on Runeterra, its very own Tony Stark. He industrialized magic by pioneering the field known as techmaturgy, founded Piltover, and taught some of the greatest scientists in Runeterran history, including Viktor and Jayce.

As I pondered the Revered Inventor, ideas flooded my mind. Most he'd made himself, many he did not. A Wrenchbot to help around my lab. A multi-story techmaturgical t-rex, I'm sorry, T-Hex, because why the fuck not. Jayce's Mercury Cannon. Viktor's third arm. Camille's eyes. Blitzcrank's… Blitzcrank. I paused. 'I can make myself eyes!'

That threw me for a loop. Did I want to be known as a biotinker? The profession did not inspire the same kind of terror it would in the future. Bonesaw, Riley at the moment, was an infant somewhere out there. Ellisburg wouldn't happen for another seven or eight months. Blasto wasn't even active yet.

'I could become a biotinker,' I realized. I could, theoretically, be known as the first biotinker and set the standard for how they're treated.

I scrapped that idea almost as soon as I thought it. It wasn't worth it. I didn't think I could build a strong enough reputation before 2001, before Rinke's trigger. One day, I promised myself, when I became fully independent of the Protectorate and powerful enough to stand on my own, I would make myself a pair of eyes. They would be such bullshit that Satoru Gojo and Itachi Uchiha would cry with envy.

'What else can I make?'

Even sticking to the alchemical theme, the twin cities of Piltover and Zaun had much to offer me. Singed had created Warwick, slowly pumping him full of regenerative potions and chimeric DNA even as he was vivisected over the course of months. The memories of the harrowing procedures almost knocked me from my meditation but I pressed on. The Mad Chemist's works, despite his revolting lack of ethics, had many, many uses. That was more than could be said of Mundo.

'Shimmer. Singed invented Shimmer, a drug that can make super soldiers, substitute for healing potions, and be burned for fuel.'

He, and eventually, most of Zaun, used the damn thing for so much that it was hard to find chemtech in Zaun that wasn't compatible with the stuff. Putting aside what he became, Singed originally developed the drug as another healing potion, back when he was still sane.

ZAC, the Zaun Amorphous Combatant, could be said to be an alchemical creation, albeit accidental. Viktor's Hex Core was another such example. Ekko's Zero Drive was fueled by a fuel source of his own design, one with an unusual affinity for time magic.

There as so much more, but I moved on, turning my gaze to the rest of Runeterra.

Hextech wasn't everything. In fact, the most powerful things on Runeterra were not hextech creations. Someone, somewhere, had to make Leona's shield, Kayle's swords, and Nasus' scepter after all. Thoughts of how I might enchant the same flooded my head and left me with a splitting headache. A sense of solemn admonishment filled me from within as my connection sputtered.

'Okay… nowhere near strong enough to build one of those… Maybe when I have a stronger connection to the World Rune…'

Even putting aside some of the most powerful relics of Runeterra, there were a great deal of materials and items that were referenced by the various Champions.

Ashe's bow was made of something called True Ice, an incredibly powerful conduit for ice magic that could not be broken by any conventional force nor melted by any mortal fire. It was also utterly impractical. I could make a shard the size of a guitar pick using a fist-sized snowball… and a hundred Mana Crystals. Not only was that prohibitively expensive, I literally couldn't forge anything from it. It was what I liked to call the vibranium paradox. If it could withstand any force, how did Howard Stark shape Cap's shield? Add to that an absolute immunity to mundane forms of heat and I had a material that was effectively unforgeable even if I were to gather enough to make something.

My thoughts then turned south to Demacia, a new Mana Crystal forming in my hand. Jarvan had that fancy extending lance, but I didn't need a weapon right now, nor could I wield such a ridiculous thing. Someone had to have forged Shyvana's gauntlets, but I discarded the possibility for the same reason. I was masquerading as an alchemical tinker. While not all of alchemy was about potions, it wasn't about forging legendary weapons either. I was more interested in building a foundation for myself, a list of materials…

'Petricite!' I thought happily. The World Rune pulsed in what I could only assume was approval. Even for Runeterra, Petricite was unique.

At their most basic, petricite trees were trees mutated by the chaotic magic of the Rune Wars. They took on traits similar to stone, hence the name, and absorbed ambient mana to grow. This ability to absorb mana also made them magical dampeners, calming the land and providing stability to the ecosystems of western Valoran. Refugees fleeing the Rune Wars would eventually settle around these forests, founding the kingdom of Demacia.

Ancient Demacians would go on to mix powdered petricite with ash and lime to create an elegant white substance they uncreatively called Petricite. This magic suppressing material was as hard as stone and used in fortifications and buildings. When mixed with steel into an alloy, it could even be used to arm the fabled Dauntless Vanguard. Ground up, it could make the Petricite Elixirs favored by the Mageseekers.

'But… will Petricite work with powers? I have mana, but do other capes?' I wondered. 'Either Shards pull their dimensional hijinks using mana and channel their powers via the corona pollentia, or they don't… and I'll end up creating my own kryptonite. That'd be fucking embarrassing…'

Author's Note

Yes, Heimerdinger is his last name. Yes, his name is Cecil. He's actually one of the youngest yordles, or at least, one of the yordles who emerged from the Spirit Realm latest. He designed the Sun Gates and founded Piltover approximately two hundred years before modern day Runeterra, making him centuries younger than the likes of Veigar.

Thank you for reading. To reach a wider audience, and because I enjoy a more forum-like setup to facilitate discussion, I like to crosspost to a wide variety of websites. You can find them all on my Link Tree: https://linktr.ee/fabled.webs.