Luxurious Anarchy (Lux/Jinx)

Chapter 32: Surrender The Throne

"Go, go!" shouted Viktor from behind his black metal helmet, the strain of his work evident in his voice. His hands were raised, wave after wave of ethereal purple energy pouring from the Hexcore as Viktor struggled to maintain the portal carved into the wall of the Last Drop.

Vi nodded, and charged through, feeling the gateway snap close behind her. Rising her gauntlets into a guarded position, she rushed ahead, into the melee taking place right in front of her.

Lailha laughed wildly as she aimed down one corridor, Pow-Pow rattling in her grip as she hosed the hallway with lead. Whoever was down there was staying flush to the walls, unable to move without being torn in half, as a few chummed bodies down that way attested. The twins, Abigail and Cameron, added the occasional rifle shot to the mix, heavy rounds lashing out whenever a muzzle crept around the corners for un-aimed return fire.

It was the other side of the corridor that was in trouble, Ekko, Jayce, Caitlyn, and Zeri all fighting a losing battle to fend off the sword blows of the Mageseeker's pressing them. Ekko was holding his own well enough, but Jayce's hammer, so effective on the doors to his workplace, was comparatively slow and cumbersome when measured against the blades of the Mageseekers. Caitlyn and Zeri were even worse off, forced to dodge and back peddle away from razor-sharp edges and needle-like points.

"Cupcake, down!" Vi shouted, and to her credit, Caitlyn dropped instantly, kicking against the smooth marble floor and sliding away from the threat of disembowelment.

The Mageseeker twisted, ready to gut Zeri like a fish, only to catch Vi's left jab in the face. With a sharp clack!, the knuckles along Vi's left gauntlet erupted with almost certainly lethal force, causing the Mageseeker's head to jolt to the side as the hidden pistons kicked out.

Where one fell, another Mageseeker leapt forward, sword at the ready. Vi gritted her teeth, and intercepted the sword strike aimed at her head on her left gauntlet. The haze of blue-gray magic enveloping the mining tool flickered and dissipated, her sorcery absorbed by the Mageseeker's petricite blade.

A lightning-quick right hook crashed into her opponent's ribs, and Vi's grimace of concentration became something of a smirk as the pistons in her gauntlet fired all at once, propelling the Demacian warrior down the length of the hallway, bowling over a number of his fellows.

"Cleanup on isle three!" she cheered, feeling her connection to her magic restored. Pushing the energy back into the gauntlets, the gauges and steam reserves began to twitch and refill.

A shot rang out, and another Mageseeker went down clutching the outside of one thigh. Caitlyn racked the bolt on her rifle, and aimed down the scope once more, eyes narrowed in concentration. "We need to move forward," she shouted, her words almost entirely drowned out when Zeri stepped forward, her hand and forearm deep inside a weapon she'd insisted was a gun.

Zeri's mysterious gun began to emit a whine that made Vi's teeth itch, while Zeri dug a fistful of plain iron washers, nuts, and bolts out of one pocket of her overcoat, slapping the whole mess of raw metal into the bottom of her weapon.

Her jacket begin to glow with a green-yellow light, and Zeri's eyes took on the same coloration, sparks spitting and leaping from the exposed wires that ran along her outfit. "Sorry boys, gals, and pals, but this is gonna sting!"

The whine raised to a fever pitch, and Zeri pulled the trigger. Finger-width bolts of lightning ripped out of the barrel of her gun, each line of electrical wrath chasing a fragment of scrap metal. With unerring accuracy, the improvised bullets rattled and pinged against the armor of the Demacians, enough of the magnetically charged metal punching through breastplates and breastbones to take the cluster of Mageseekers out of the fight entirely.