Scrapyard Angels: Prologue

There are two types of the reincarnation to another world according to fictional stories. On one hand you have the unlucky ones, ones whose lives are thrown into disaray as they are reborn to abdject poverty, brutal slavery, senseless persecution, or maybe a mix of both. People just generally being thrown into a shitty situation and having to deal with it. While they might be a relative minority in fiction as most isekais are self indulgent, they just might be the absolute majority cases when it comes to reincarnation to another world. Afterall, not everyone is that lucky

On the other hand, graced by lady luck and whatever random deity was looking at their general direction, there are the lucky ones. They landed the proverbial Nat20 and reaped the rewards. They're your power wank stories, your escapism made manifest, written down or printed in your choice of medium. The powerups, the girls, the magic, and the sheer absolute dumb luck of it all. They simply got everything and to my non-existent audience, who may or may not be just the figment of my imagination, I am not one of them. I'm pretty sure I'm firmly in the former camp.

Trying to stay sane when all you have is a sack of scrap, some ratty ill fitting clothes and a shiv dipped in the putrid rivers of industrial refuse running through the sewers of Zaun, becomes a matter of defining one's sanity.

Growing up in Zaun isn't the best for one's health, in fact it ain't good for anyone's health… well aside from the clump of whumps and the puffcap mushrooms these racoon but not really racoons absolutely adore.

Speaking of Whumps, Puffcaps make for a good offering for these little buggers. You mostly feed them to avoid having to deal with the paranoia of having them sneak up on you and snatch what little valuables you have. They also make for a great albeit unreliable alarm system for the hole you choose as your home.

I dodged an errant blast of steam breaking me from my mile a minute thought. The screeching sounds of noxious gas seeping from one of the many poorly maintained pipes crisscrossing the roads of the Sumps; the lowest floor of Zaun.

Dodging is easy when you're so small that you can easily slip between the legs of the older Zaunite and are barely heavy enough to not starve to death. The pros and cons of being a kid in Zaun I suppose

But wait you say, if I'm a kid then where are my parents? They ditched me the moment I popped out of the bitches womb. Horrible horrible stuff with all the blood and bodily fluid involved. I grew up in an orphanage which ended up being a front for a gang member recruitment / sweatshop. I ran away the instant I could. I would have been either shanked in an initiation or died slowly and painfully from the chemical vats we were told to use. I was still a young delusional reincarnated kid, angsting about morality which went out the window when starvation kicked in.

I could go back but then again living on my own kinda had its perks. Getting to beg for food from the upper floors meant somethings that you can actually taste on the rare occasion. In the orphanage, you only have gruel. Living in a half collapsed sewer pipe wasn't that much different from the orphanage. It's not like Piltover ever cared to even help the orphanage of Zaun so hard rock beds for you little Timmy. All you actually have to worry about is actually working smart enough to feed yourself.

On the matter of not starving to death, was a rather heavy load. My slight frame shouldn't be able to hold it up but I could. Maybe the denizens of Runeterra are just built differently compared to Earthlings.

Just a flight of stairs and a few winding spots and I finally reached my destination, an out of way scrap shop that doesn't try to screw you over. At least there were still some people in Zaun who still have a heart. Entering the shop, I quickly closed the door behind me to prevent the Grey from entering the already limited air inside the shop. No longer feeling the foul air slipping through the thrice recycled filter of the mask almost permanently strapped to my face felt amazing.

"Well if it ain't the littlest sumper. Didn't ya get job in one of the Cultivairs?" Greeted my good friend Bob the Inventor. Who knew having some agricultural background and college level education could still help you in the next world, well that and being smart enough not to be a thieving prick.

"I'm not short anymore" I was but I was the tallest in the orphanage I came from. It was something

"You still are to me" There was no winning against him and his infuriatingly infectious smile.

Shaking my head, I replied "It wouldn't hurt to have an extra coin or two." It never hurts to have more than you need just in case and I just want to visit a friend.

"Always hard working one. Well you weren't the first time you came round this part. Could still remember trying to shout some sense into you. I had to light the proverbial fire under your ass till you start working and living

Next thing I know you became a sumper then a gardner of all things? Already moving up to the Entresol level. Maybe next time I hear news about you, you'll be in the Promenade"

I rolled my eyes at that but smiled at the memories. I always do need a good nudge to get going. "I have bigger dreams Bob, way bigger dreams".

"Well, enough of this chit chat and let's see just how much you hauled". The pneumatic hiss of his artificial leg carried his great bulk closer so he could weigh my haul.

All in all, the haul I had gave me enough for an extra meal or two if I don't question where it came from. I didn't have too much to talk about with Bob. He had his business and I have my home to go back to.

"Don't forget us when you're a big shot!" Shouted my friend as I walked away from his shop a few coins richer. It wasn't much but atleast I didnt have to starve for the night.

Adjusting my goggles and securing my belt, I made my way back to the higher levels of the Sump. The Sump wasn't all entirely made up of the slums, there were different levels. There were shops and street vendors of all kinds just littered around the place. Some place are a bit more honest when it comes to making their food. It just takes a lot of trial and error hoping you wouldn't die from the eventual food poisoning if you encountered the bad ones.

Getting myself some steamed buns, I was going to eat like a king tonight. It might be cat meat or might be rodent meat but it was meat nonetheless. It was a bit expensive, already digging in slightly to my reserve funds but I can indulge in a bit of luxury from time to time.

As I walked down the busy street, I couldn't help but notice a soft cry coming from one of the alleys. I slowed down, letting the crowd pass me by as I glanced at the alley. There in the end of the alley was a little shivering bundle tucked away in a corner, a small little thing just trying to hide from the world

I should pass by and walk away. Let them be and leave. 'You've done it a hundred times before and you can do it now.' Why should today be any different yet… all it took was a simple bump from a busy passerby before my feet betrayed me as I made my way towards the source of the cry

'You can get stabbed, maybe they're just for someone else to do some nasty stuff to you. No one will give a shit if you ever get into trouble' my mind whispered to me, fueling my paranoia yet I kept walking until I was in front of them.

Kneeling down in front of them, god were they smaller than I was, I reached down to my poach and felt the buns and the coins inside. I could give them a coin but... I can starve for the night. It's just one night.

Grabbing the bun, I pulled it out and offered it to them. "Here, you need this more than I do"

I didn't know it back then but that little act of kindness would bring me not only so much grief but also the greatest joy of life as the person looked up to me. The girl with bluest hair and eyes greeted me and the rest was history