The morning after an all-nighter always brings heavier gray fog. The chemical smog hanging over Drain Street—that murky air the residents of Zaun call "Graybreath"—was particularly thick on Thursday morning, blanketing the alleyways. The orange glow of chemical lamps bled through the haze, and despite the hour being before noon, the street looked like dusk. On the workbench of Raikaru's repair shop, "Bolt Hole," lay a machine part. A pale blue light pulsed quietly within it. For hours stretching back through the night, the three of them had been facing it down. Ryou had his head tilted back against his chair, half-asleep. His silver hair was a complete mess, and he hadn't even noticed his student ID terminal on his left wrist blinking away. Ekoo sat with a drone across her lap, eyes barely open, staring blankly at the machine part. Her purple short bob clung to her forehead. Raikaru remained standing, eyes open but body at its limit. Their head kept moving on its own. The corrosion pattern at the joint, the voltage adjustment values, the resonance frequency with Ekoo's drone—it all spun endlessly in their mind, keeping sleep at bay. Then. Knock. Knock. Knock. The sound of fists on the door echoed through the workshop. Forceful. Not courtesy—intimidation. When Raikaru opened the door, Volga stood outside. A heavyweight who ran the Grindgear Workshop Coalition, his broad frame clad in a jacket embroidered with the union's insignia. A face in his fifties, utterly expressionless. Behind him, a dozen or so subordinates. The alley was packed solid. "[cold]It's over, repair technician. Today we take it," The voice was quiet, which made it all the more terrifying. In that same instant, Ryou's terminal shrieked to life. "[surprised]Huh...?" Ryou jolted awake and looked at the screen. His face went pale. What displayed there was the Piltover Council's seal and a machine part seizure order based on the Technology Patent Monopoly Act. An official legal document delivered through the checkpoint at the Bridgeway. Volga from the front. The Piltover Council from behind. They were boxed in. The Council's enforcement officer—a thin middle-aged man in a Piltover uniform with brass buttons—held out the order to Raikaru. "[serious]Under Article Seventeen of the Technology Patent Monopoly Act, this machine part is hereby placed under Council jurisdiction. Should you resist—" Ryou took the order with sleepy eyes and flipped through it casually. "[serious]Um, this... this is a twenty-year-old form, isn't it? Form C-3 was discontinued a long time ago," Silence. Ekoo lightly tapped the back of Ryou's head with the drone. A soft *pop* sounded. "[cold]This isn't the moment to point that out," "[sad]Ow... sorry, reflex," Volga's brow furrowed. In all his years, he'd never seen someone point out paperwork in a situation like this. The three of them exchanged glances. They'd discussed this possibility last night. So they remained oddly calm. "[serious]Ryou," "[serious]On it," Ryou pulled a terminal from his pocket. A Werner Technical Institute student-issue device—separate from the electronic equipment on his left wrist, this one was for communications. His fingers flew across it, selecting a connection point. The public channel for all Werner students. The one used for class announcements and school broadcasts. Everyone watched it. The connection went through. Ryou's hands trembled. His fingers holding the terminal shook slightly. But his voice was steady. "[serious]Everyone at Werner Technical Institute. This is Ryou, third year. I'm about to tell you something important," Volga took a step forward, saying "What are you doing?" His subordinates moved to follow. But Raikaru and Ekoo positioned themselves left and right, blocking the way. "[serious]Professor Drakres ordered me to infiltrate Zaun. The official reason was a technical research internship. But the real purpose was to bring back data on a specific piece of technology without formal Council approval," Two pieces of evidence appeared on the terminal screen. One was a copy of Professor Drakres's handwritten directive. It bore no official Council approval seal. The other was a Council approval record—its log clearly showed that no approval for this matter existed. "[serious]The legal basis for the seizure order is Professor Drakres's private directive. It never went through formal Council deliberation. Legally, the order in your hand is invalid," The enforcement officer's face went rigid. He looked at the order in his hand, then at the terminal screen, then back at the order. "[serious]...I'll confirm with headquarters," With that, he retreated. Volga's subordinates began to murmur. Raikaru glanced sideways at Ryou. "[serious]...That was incredible," The words came out quietly. Genuine. Ryou pocketed the terminal and let out a hollow laugh. "[laughing]My hands were shaking. It might not have come through clearly," "[cold]It came through. Perfectly," She said only that, then faced forward again. Something glistened in Ryou's eyes. "[crying]Ekoo...!" "[angry]Don't cry, it's gross," "[crying]I'm not crying, I am crying...!" Volga watched the scene unfold with a bitter expression. ──── Not long after the Council's enforcement officer retreated, a voice called out from the alley on Drain Street. "[serious]Volga. I have something to ask you," It was Marcus. The elderly craftsman, bent with age, stood with a dozen or so fellow workers from within the coalition, forming a line in front of the workshop. He'd removed his armband. But his spine remained straight. "[serious]How many times have we brought machines to this repair technician to fix? When the water pump on this street broke, who called them in the middle of the night to repair it? Have you all forgotten such things?" Volga watched Marcus, his expression unchanged. "[cold]Are you going against the coalition, Marcus?" "[serious]I'm not going against it. I'm reminding you," Drawn by that voice, people began to emerge from the alley corners. At first, there was just one. A middle-aged housewife in an apron. The woman whose water pump Raikaru had fixed last winter. Next came the white-haired old woman who lived in front of the closed pharmacy across the way—Berta. That same Berta who'd passed by with downcast eyes just days ago now stood in front of the workshop, leaning on a cane. Then the owner of the restaurant "Smoke & Bean" came out, still wearing his apron. One by one. Berta spoke in a trembling voice. "[sad]...Without the water pump that Raikaru fixed, this street would have no water to drink. We all know that," With that as the opening, voices began to overlap. "[serious]Our heating system's been fixed three times," "[serious]They fixed my kid's bicycle gears too," Volga's subordinates began to back away. Even as they tried to silence the crowd with the coalition's authority, the voices only grew. The composure drained from Volga's face bit by bit. Raikaru watched the scene unfold beside them. Without noticing when it happened, Ekoo was standing next to them. The crowd of people swelled. Volga's subordinates were held back. As they watched, at some point their shoulders touched. Ekoo noticed too. But she didn't move away. Raikaru didn't either. Both of them simply stood side by side, facing forward. ──── "[serious]Ryou, the calculations?" "[serious]Done. Voltage adjustment values are ready," While the wall of people held back Volga's subordinates, Raikaru returned to the workshop and stood before the workbench. They held the machine part in both hands. The pale blue light pulsed quietly in their palms. Ekoo floated the drone beside the machine part. The drone's low vibration tone shifted. Matching the resonance frequency. Ryou opened a notebook and called out the final adjustment value to Raikaru. "[serious]Third point on the joint, move it 0.5 millimeters to the right. That's where the voltage stabilizes," Raikaru moved the tweezers. A world measured in fractions of millimeters. But the hands remembered. The machine's voice reached directly into their fingers. The intuition of a long-practiced repair technician. A faint *click* sounded. The machine part's pale blue light—suddenly blazed brighter. Light poured from the workshop window into the street. Light flowed through the alley like water. The Graybreath that had covered Drain Street dispersed as if by magic. The chemical smog scattered, and beyond it—the color of the sky became visible. The color of sky fell into Zaun's alleyways. A voice rose from outside. A child's voice. Then Berta's trembling cry. Then, like a chain reaction, voices spread across all of Drain Street. Volga staggered backward, dropping to his knees. His subordinates stood frozen in shock. "[excited]The calculations are right—! It's working exactly as calculated—!" Wailing with joy, bouncing up and down. "[cold]...You might as well keep flying away," She said it flatly. "[crying]That's cruel! But I'm happy!" Raikaru looked at the machine part in their hands. The light gradually calmed. For only a few minutes—just a few brief minutes, the Graybreath had cleared. But the residents' cheers continued. Berta looked up at the sky, tears streaming down her face. Her cane in hand, face tilted upward, she wept silently. Raikaru couldn't look away from that sight. ──── Volga stood up. He surveyed his surroundings. His subordinates couldn't move. The residents' voices continued. The enforcement officer was still confirming with headquarters. Marcus stood with his arms crossed, watching quietly. "[cold]...I'm pulling back for today," His voice was low. He didn't turn around. He walked down Drain Street with his subordinates. No one called out. The residents parted to let him pass. Volga's back disappeared into the Graybreath. Marcus turned toward Raikaru and gave a small nod. That was all. No words. But everything was in it. The window of the nearby bar "Rusty Tap" opened, and Guen poked his head out. "[laughing]You won! How about a toast!" The residents laughed. In the midst of those cheers, something touched the edge of Raikaru's sleeve. Fingertips. Ekoo, hidden within the crowd, was quietly pinching the edge of Raikaru's sleeve with her fingers. Then she let go. When Raikaru turned to look, Ekoo faced forward, pretending not to notice. The tips of her ears were slightly red. Raikaru said nothing. They simply remained standing beside her. ──── Night fell. After the commotion settled and the street grew quiet, Raikaru climbed the iron ladder on the workshop's outer wall. Reaching the roof, there was a slight breeze. The chemical rain had stopped, and Zaun—rare for it—had thin moonlight falling into the alleyways. Ekoo was already sitting at the roof's edge. Her feet swung gently as she looked up at the sky. The drone rested quietly on her lap. Her purple short bob caught the moonlight slightly. Raikaru sat down beside her. For a while, neither spoke. The distant sound of pipes groaning. Chemical lamps flickering at the bottom of the alley. "[whispers]...Maybe I'm not alone anymore," She said it softly. Eyes still on the sky. Not turning her gaze this way. But her voice was much softer than usual. Raikaru thought for a moment. The right words wouldn't come. But if they wouldn't come, then they'd just have to speak without them. "[gentle]...Me too," Ekoo turned toward Raikaru just slightly. Then faced forward again. But her mouth moved, just a little. Their hands touched on the roof. Neither knew who moved first. But they touched. It was warm. There was a quiet moment searching for the next words. Moonlight fell into the alley. Beyond the Graybreath, a single star seemed visible. Then. Two hands appeared over the roof's edge. White fingers desperately gripping the roof's rim. Then a face gasping for breath pok