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18

Piltover - Ambessa's Quarters

The room was dimly lit, shadows stretching across the walls, giving the space an air of quiet menace. Ambessa Medarda sat poised on a high-backed chair, her posture regal, her red armor catching the faint flicker of candlelight. Standing to her right was Ritcus, her ever-loyal right-hand man, silent but watchful, his sharp eyes fixed on the figure seated across the table.

The figure in question remained cloaked in darkness, his features obscured, but his presence was undeniable. Beside him stood Alex Mercer, his stance relaxed but coiled with latent power, a predator waiting for the perfect moment to strike. The atmosphere was thick with tension and quiet anticipation.

Ambessa's voice broke the silence, calm and commanding. "If you aren't already aware," she began, her tone laced with confidence, "we've managed to take Piltover under our control, alongside Atriox. I believe it's time we have a talk... Menendez."

The name reverberated through the room, and the shadowed figure leaned forward, finally revealing his face. It was Raul Menendez, his sharp features illuminated by the faint light, a smirk playing on his lips. He regarded Ambessa with the air of a man who was always several moves ahead.

"Yes," Menendez said, his voice smooth, measured. "I can see that. Exactly what I expected from the two of you."

Ambessa chuckled, leaning back in her chair. "So, what is this proposal you're offering to me and Atriox?" Her eyes sparkled with curiosity, though her tone remained cautious.

Menendez leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table, his smirk deepening. "It's simple," he said, his voice carrying a hint of malice. "I want to see this city brought to its knees. I want to watch it suffer under the likes of you and Atriox."

Ambessa raised an eyebrow, intrigued but unimpressed. "Isn't martial law already enough to see the city on its knees?" she asked, her voice tinged with amusement.

Menendez shook his head, his smirk fading into something darker, more menacing. "No," he said, his voice cold now. "You don't understand. This city has cost me someone I loved, someone I cared about deeply. Sending in your soldiers and Atriox's Brutes isn't enough. Martial law isn't enough."

He leaned back, his hands steepled, his gaze unwavering. "I want Piltover to burn. I want its people to feel the same pain I've felt. Not just to bend under your rule, but to crumble entirely. To watch as its foundations are torn apart, brick by brick."

Ambessa's expression hardened, though her intrigue remained. "You're suggesting a complete annihilation," she said, her tone neutral, as if weighing the idea.

Menendez nodded. "Precisely. Annihilation. No half-measures. No negotiations. Total destruction."

Ambessa exchanged a glance with Ritcus, whose expression betrayed no emotion. Then, she turned her gaze back to Menendez, her lips curling into a faint, calculating smile. "You speak of pain as a motivator," she said. "But pain also clouds judgment. Tell me, Menendez, how do I know this isn't just a personal vendetta that will undermine my goals—and Atriox's?"

Menendez chuckled, a low, humorless sound. "I think you underestimate how effective personal vendettas can be. They fuel the greatest movements, the most decisive victories. My pain is my weapon, and it can be yours too."

Ambessa considered his words, her fingers tapping lightly on the armrest of her chair. She turned to Mercer, who had remained silent until now, his expression unreadable.

"And you," Ambessa said, addressing Mercer, her tone testing. "What's your stake in this?"

"Me?" Mercer chuckled as he tilted his head slightly, his voice low and steady. "I'm here for the same reason as Menendez. To watch this city fall. To see the chaos unfold."

Ambessa's sharp gaze fixed on Alex Mercer, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinized him. The faint, almost imperceptible purple hue coursing through the veins along his neck caught her attention. She tilted her head slightly, a knowing smirk playing on her lips.

"You must be from Zaun." she assumed, her tone laced with an edge of accusation and intrigue of his appearance. "Well, the looks and the attitude you display, it's very obvious of where you truly come from."

Mercer returned her smirk, his expression one of mild amusement. "Sounds very stereotypical coming from you," he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "But don't think for a second that just because I was a shimmer user, it makes me any less dangerous."

Ambessa's smirk faltered, her expression hardening. "Are you threatening me, boy?" she asked, her voice dropping to a low growl, a challenge in her words.

Mercer leaned forward slightly, his confidence unshaken. "Threatening you?" He chuckled, the sound cold and mocking. "Relax, grandma. If I were threatening you, you'd know."

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The room's atmosphere shifted instantly. Ritcus, ever loyal and protective, stepped forward with a menacing air, his large frame casting a shadow over the table. His hand reached toward the hilt of his weapon, but before he could take another step, Ambessa raised a hand.

"Stand down, Ritcus," she commanded, her voice sharp and unyielding. Ritcus stopped immediately, his glare still fixed on Mercer as his hand lingered near his weapon.

Before the tension could escalate further, Menendez interjected, his voice smooth but firm. "Enough," he said, his eyes darting to Mercer. "Now's not the time for this nonsense."

Mercer leaned back, his smirk returning as he crossed his arms, unfazed by the exchange. "Just making my point clear," he said casually, his tone carrying no hint of apology.

Ambessa, now composed, let out a low chuckle, her eyes still fixed on Mercer. "You've got spirit, I'll give you that," she said, her tone regaining its amused edge. "But let's be clear—this alliance isn't a game. Step out of line, and it won't be Ritcus you'll have to worry about. It'll be me."

Mercer gave a small shrug, his smirk unwavering. "Duly noted."

Ambessa's smile grew faintly, her amusement apparent, though her tone sharpened as she leaned forward slightly. "You men are a dangerous breed," she said, her voice cutting through the quiet like a blade. "You crave chaos for destruction's sake." She paused for effect, her gaze piercing as she looked at Menendez. "But I suppose that makes you useful... for now."

Ritcus, standing beside her, shifted slightly. He leaned down to whisper something inaudible into her ear. Ambessa gave a small nod, her eyes never leaving Menendez's face. Then, she straightened, her expression shifting to something more serious.

"But as much as you want to see Piltover crumble to its knees, Menendez, there is something I need to confirm before I can grant you your desires," she said, her tone steady and authoritative.

Menendez arched an eyebrow, leaning back slightly. "And what might that be?" he asked, his voice calm but curious.

Ambessa's eyes narrowed, her voice dropping slightly. "An inventor by the name of Jayce Talis and a scientist named Heimerdinger have gone missing. And I assume," she said, letting the implication hang in the air, "that you were the one responsible."

Menendez chuckled lightly, shaking his head. "Jayce Talis and Heimerdinger? Believe me, I've got no interest in playing with those two tinkerers. If I had something to do with their disappearance, I would have let you—or Atriox—know of my plans." His tone was smooth, almost bored, as though the matter was beneath him.

Ambessa studied him for a moment, her sharp eyes searching for any trace of deception. Finding none, "I see." she continued, her voice taking on a calculated tone. "The reason I mention these names is because both have been working on Hextech technology," she said, her words deliberate, "something I have long sought after. Atriox and I agreed—we would find this technology together. It's a key to ensuring Piltover remains under our control."

She leaned forward slightly, her presence commanding. "Once we find this technology, then we can give you what you want. Piltover's downfall. But there is one condition."

Menendez smirked, intrigued, and leaned forward to match her intensity. "I'm listening," he said, his voice low and steady.

"You," Ambessa said, her voice turning sharp, "are known to be one of the most dangerous criminals from your so-called cartel back in Zaun. No one has managed to catch you, not even Piltover's vaunted Enforcers. You hold firepower, Menendez. And that," she gestured subtly with her hand, "is what I need."

She let her words settle before continuing, her tone growing more authoritative. "If you can give me the firepower you hold—the resources, the tools, and the network you command—then perhaps we can arrange Piltover's downfall very soon. But not now. Not until we have what we need."

Menendez's smirk widened, his expression unreadable. He tapped his fingers on the table, as if weighing her words. "So, you're asking for my arsenal before giving me the city in ashes," he said finally. "You drive a hard bargain, Ambessa."

Ambessa leaned back, a faint smile playing on her lips. "Consider it an investment. Help us secure Hextech, and you'll see Piltover's destruction unfold exactly as you desire."

Menendez chuckled darkly, nodding. "Very well. I'll provide what you need. But don't think for a second that I'll wait forever, Ambessa. My patience is thin, and my desires... well, let's just say they're not easily contained."

Ambessa's smirk hardened into a sharp edge, her tone laced with warning as she leaned forward slightly. "That goes for me as well, Menendez," she said, her voice steady and cold. "I am not your pawn. If you make my patience wear thin, then we're going to have a problem."

Menendez's dark chuckle echoed through the room as he leaned back in his chair, clearly unfazed by her words. "You can try to outsmart me, Ambessa," he said, his voice low and confident, "but one thing you don't know about me—I'm always one step ahead."

Ambessa's eyes narrowed, her lips pressing into a thin line. "We'll see about that," she said evenly, her tone daring but measured.

Menendez pushed back his chair and rose to his feet, his movements smooth and deliberate. His smirk widened as he adjusted his jacket, his air of superiority evident. "Enjoy the game, Ambessa," he said mockingly, turning toward the door.

Mercer followed suit, pausing only briefly to glance back at Ambessa and Ritcus. His smirk was playful but mocking as he spoke. "Take care of yourself now. Don't forget to take your vitamins." Mercer quipped, his voice dripping with insolence.

Ambessa snarled, the muscles in her jaw tightening as she clenched her fists. Her composure faltered for a split second, but she quickly regained it, her eyes burning with restrained fury as the door slid shut behind them.

Once Menendez and Mercer were gone, she turned sharply to Ritcus, her expression fierce and resolute. "Make sure Atriox does not know about this," she ordered, her voice quiet but filled with authority. "He may be on our side for now, but I don't trust that brute any more than I trust Menendez. Ensure that we find it first—the Hextech—before Atriox even gets close to it."

Ritcus nodded, his expression grim. "Understood," he said, his voice steady. "I'll make the arrangements."

Ambessa leaned back in her chair, her fingers tapping lightly on the armrest as her mind raced. The alliances she was forging were tenuous at best, but she knew the rewards would be worth the risk—so long as she maintained control. And control, as she well knew, required constant vigilance.