Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You and Jayce had always done things together. It didn’t matter if it was something simple like a walk through Piltover's bustling streets or an ambitious late, night project in his lab, you were always partners in crime.

Today was one of those days when the world outside felt just a bit too noisy, too full of people and things to do. So, you and Jayce decided to stay in. You'd taken the morning off and ended up at his apartment, mostly because he needed help with an idea he’d gotten for redesigning the walls in his living room.

"I’m telling you, Y/N, these walls are way too boring," Jayce said with a dramatic flair, looking at the plain, white walls of his living room. "They need character, they need life."

"Character and life?" you teased, standing in front of him with a paintbrush in hand. "This isn’t a wall. It’s a canvas. You’re talking like we’re about to redecorate the whole place with abstract art or something."

Jayce grinned, his hands already covered in paint, some smudged across his cheek like war paint. "Exactly," he said, as though that was the most logical thing in the world. "We need to make a statement."

You both laughed at the idea. It was exactly the kind of project that made sense between the two of you. He had a vision, and you were always happy to help him bring it to life, even if it meant getting covered in paint by the end of it.

For the next few hours, you and Jayce painted the walls of his apartment in the most ridiculous colors you could find. Every now and then, one of you would accidentally flick paint across the room, and you'd both burst into laughter as you scrambled to clean it up. There was no rush, no pressure. Just fun, just the two of you.

The radio hummed softly in the background, the soft crackle of music filling the quiet moments between your laughter. Every so often, Jayce would glance over at you with a smirk, always teasing you about being a little too slow with the brush or not staying within the lines. But you didn’t mind. The light-hearted banter was a staple in your friendship, something that kept everything feeling easy and right.

"Here," Jayce said, handing you a roller with a new color. "Time for the accent wall."

You eyed it skeptically. "Are you sure this is a good idea? This shade of green looks like something from a swamp."

"It’s called ‘emerald mist,’” Jayce replied with mock seriousness. “It’s going to be amazing."

"Uh-huh," you replied, barely hiding your grin. "Sure, Jayce. You always have the best ideas."

You could hear the playful challenge in his voice when he shot back, "I’m an expert in color theory. Trust me."

As you rolled the green paint across the wall, the two of you continued joking back and forth, occasionally teasing each other about getting paint on clothes or swiping each other’s brushes. Even when the paint started to splatter on the floor and the ceiling, it felt like the most natural thing in the world to keep laughing and messing up.

It wasn’t just about the walls. It was about the fact that, in those moments, you were together, enjoying each other’s company in the simplest way possible. No expectations, no drama. Just the two of you, creating something together.

Once the last coat of paint had dried,  Jayce stepped back, hands on his hips, surveying the walls like he was inspecting a masterpiece. You stood beside him, your shirt streaked with random smears of color, your hands just as messy.

"We're either geniuses," you said, tilting your head to the side dramatically, "or we've ruined your apartment forever."

Jayce let out a loud laugh. "Bold of you to assume we weren't already a disaster," he said, bumping his shoulder against yours.

You smiled, feeling the buzz of happiness under your skin. It wasn't about the walls. It was about this, the shared glances, the funny inside jokes, the simple way you fit together like two parts of the same whole.

He looked down at you suddenly, wiping a smudge of green paint off your cheek with his thumb. "You got something," he said lightly, his eyes crinkling in amusement.

You wrinkled your nose. "Pretty sure I'm beyond saving at this point," you said holding up your hands. 

Jayce laughed, grabbing a rag from the nearby counter and tossing it at you. "Here, try to look a little less tragic."

You caught it, but instead of wiping your hands, you twisted it up and whipped it at his arm.

"Hey!" Jayce yelped, half laughing, half outraged.

"Oops," you said sweetly, already backing away. 

Before you could react, Jayce lunged for a paintbrush still dipped in the 'emerald mist' color, holding it like a weapon. 

"You wouldn't dare," you warned, holding up your hands in a mock surrender.

"Oh I would," he grinned wickedly, and then he charged.

You dodged him and ran across the room, laughing so hard your sides ached. Jayce chased you, both of you slipping a little on the tarp covering the floor. 

Finally, he caught you around the waist, spinning you in a circle before setting you down, both of you breathless and grinning. His hands lingered for a moment, just a little too long. You felt it, even if he didn't seem to notice.

You were still laughing when you said, "You're gonna owe me new clothes after this, you know."

Jayce smiled down at you, eyes sparking. "Anything for you."

You shook your head, trying not to smile. "Alright, Picasso," you said hands on your hips. "What now? You realize your kitchen looks like it survived a war."

Jayce looked around at the tarp-covered floor, the cans of paint, and the random paint brushes on the counters, and then he laughed, a sound that made your heart squeeze. 

"We should probably get food before we pass out," he said, wiping his hands on his already ruined shirt. "I'm starving."

"You're always starving, no wonder you're so fat," you teased.

"Come on, now," he said, tossing you your jacket. 

You laughed, slipping your arms into your sleeves. "Yeah, yeah. Lead the way."

The streets of Piltover were buzzing as usual, but the noise felt distant with Jayce by your side. The two of you wandered through the twisting alleys and main squares, bumping shoulders occasionally, making stupid ass jokes about random passersby.

You ended up at a small diner tucked between two huge buildings, the kind of place only locals knew about. Jayce held the door open for you.

You slid into a booth by the window, and Jayce sat across from you.

"You look like an absolute ass," you teased, tossing a straw wrapper at him.

"An you look like a living piece of a shitty piece of art," Jayce fired back, pointing at the dried paint still streaked across your cheek.

You gasped, grabbing a napkin. "Why didn't you tell me??!"

"Because it's cute," he said, leaning back in his seat. 

You stared at him too long, your heart doing something it absolutely shouldn't have.

Just friends, you reminded yourself. Just friends.

When the food came, you both dug in like you hadn't eaten in days, laughing through mouthfuls of fries and teasing each other about your horrible paint skills. Jayce kept stealing your fries when he thought you weren't looking. You kept throwing pieces of lettuce at him for no reason at all. 

Chapter Text

The evening had ended quietly, full stomachs and paint-stained clothes. You and Jayce had parted ways with sleepy smiles, promising to meet early the next morning. As always, it was easy between you, effortless.

The next day, the sun was still low in the sky when you and Jayce met outside your apartment buildings, casually falling into step beside each other. The streets of Piltover bustled with early risers, merchants setting up their stalls, scholars and workers hurrying about their business. But you barely noticed. Your world was beside you, humming a happy tune under his breath.

"You know," you said, nudging him with your elbow, "you hum horribly out of tune."

Jayce laughed, tossing you a look. "I have many talents, Y/N. Singing isn’t one of them, unfortunately."

"Neither is painting, but that didn’t stop you yesterday," you teased, grinning.

"Hey, that accent wall was a work of art," he said, feigning offense. "You're just jealous of my vision."

You both laughed, the familiar sound echoing down the cobbled streets, easy and light as the morning air.

When you reached the lab, the heavy iron doors creaked open, and the familiar scent of metal, oil, and old books wrapped around you like a blanket. Inside, Viktor was already there, fiddling with some complex-looking contraption, a mug of half-drunk coffee teetering precariously close to the edge of his desk.

"Morning, Viktor!" you called out cheerfully.

He looked up, a warm, if tired, smile pulling at his lips. His golden eyes softened slightly when they landed on you. "Good morning, Y/N," he said, a slight accent curling around the words. "You’re bright today."

Jayce snorted. "She’s always annoying in the morning. It's worse when she’s had coffee."

You gasped dramatically. "The betrayal. Right in front of me."

Viktor chuckled, setting down his tools. "Be nice, Jayce. Some of us enjoy her energy."

Jayce raised his hands in mock surrender. "Fine, fine. You’re her favorite now, Viktor."

You smiled at Viktor, who looked away a little too quickly, cheeks slightly pink. You knew. You knew Viktor had a tiny crush on you. Jayce had told you once during a late-night conversation filled with laughter and secrets. You promised him you wouldn't let Viktor know, and so you didn’t, but sometimes, when Viktor looked at you just a little too long, it made you wonder if he knew you knew.

The morning passed easily. You and Jayce worked together on a new stabilizer prototype while Viktor adjusted some schematics nearby. Every now and then, Jayce would nudge you with his elbow or toss a part your way with a smirk, and you’d flick a small tool back at him in retaliation. Viktor just shook his head at the two of you, amused.

Around noon, you stretched your arms high above your head and groaned. "I need food or I’m going to pass out on the floor."

"How is that different from any other day?" Jayce teased.

"Fuck you," you said, throwing a small gear at his chest.

"Alright," Viktor said with a soft laugh, standing carefully. "Perhaps we should get lunch. There's a new café down the street. I heard they have excellent pastries."

Your stomach growled in agreement. "Lead the way, Viktor."

Jayce grinned, wiping his hands on a rag. "Yeah, let’s-"

Before he could finish, the lab doors swung open with a heavy creak.

You turned and found yourself looking at her.

She was as striking, dressed immaculately in rich fabrics and adorned with gold jewelry that shimmered in the sunlight filtering through the high windows. She moved through the lab like she belonged there, confidence in every step.

"Good afternoon," She greeted, her voice smooth and polished.

You gave a polite nod. "Hey."

Viktor smiled faintly. "Good afternoon."

Jayce, however, froze for half a second before straightening up like a soldier caught slacking off. "Mel," he said, a little breathless. "I didn’t know you were stopping by."

Mel... right. Of course it would be something like that.

She smiled at him, a smile that seemed meant just for him. "I thought I’d surprise you. I hope I’m not interrupting anything important."

"N-no! Not at all," Jayce stammered.

You exchanged a glance with Viktor, and you didn’t miss the tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

You cleared your throat, feeling a little out of place. "Well, Viktor and I were just about to get lunch. We’ll leave you two to it."

Jayce barely looked at you as he nodded distractedly. "Yeah... I'll catch up later."

Something in your chest twisted painfully.

Without another word, you and Viktor stepped out into the warm afternoon sun, leaving the heavy lab doors behind you.

The walk to the café was quiet at first. Viktor glanced at you from time to time, as if waiting for you to speak. You stared ahead, jaw tight.

Finally, as you settled into a cozy booth by the window with steaming mugs of coffee in front of you, and an assortment of cakes and pastries laid out between you two, Viktor spoke.

"You noticed it too, didn’t you?" he asked, his voice low, almost gentle.

You forced a smile. "Noticed what?"

He gave you a knowing look, one eyebrow raised. "The way Jayce turned red when Mel smiled at him."

You tried to laugh it off. "Maybe he’s just, nervous."

"Perhaps," Viktor mused, stirring his coffee. "But... they do seem to make a good match."

You stared down into your coffee cup, swirling the liquid as if it held the answers you didn’t want to hear.

"Yeah," you said quietly, forcing the word past the lump in your throat. "They look good together."

Viktor tilted his head, studying you carefully, but he didn’t push. Instead, he changed the subject, distracting you with stories about some of the more absurd prototypes he and Jayce had once tried to build. You laughed along, genuinely, but a small, bitter part of you remained.

Because no matter how much you laughed, you couldn’t unsee the way Jayce’s whole face had lit up when Mel walked into the room.

When you and Viktor finished your pastries and coffee, the warmth of the drink lingered in your chest, but it couldn’t reach the growing chill inside you. The easy conversation had dulled the ache for a while, but now, as you both stepped back onto Piltover’s busy streets, it crept back in like a slow tide.

You walked in comfortable silence with Viktor toward the lab, the city buzzing around you. You could tell Viktor wanted to say something, but he didn’t.

When you pushed the heavy lab doors open again, the first thing you saw was Jayce.

Still standing there.

Still talking to Mel.

She laughed at something he said, a soft, elegant sound, and Jayce looked down at her, eyes bright, cheeks slightly flushed. You stopped in the doorway for a second too long, something bitter and hot clawing up your throat.

"Come on," Viktor murmured gently beside you, touching your elbow, steering you inside.

You moved automatically, pretending not to notice the way Jayce barely glanced at you when you passed. Pretending it didn’t sting.

You sat down at your workbench and busied yourself, fiddling with wires you didn’t need to touch, pretending to read blueprints you couldn’t focus on. Viktor, bless him, silently set up his own station nearby, giving you space but staying close.

Minutes dragged. The clock on the wall ticked far too loud.

Finally, you heard Mel say, "I should be going. I’ll see you tonight?"

Your hands froze.

"Yeah," Jayce said, his voice low and soft in a way he never used with you. "I’ll see you tonight."

You didn’t look up. You didn’t have to. You could feel the change in the air, the way the world shifted without your permission.

Mel's heels clicked across the floor, the door creaking open and swinging shut behind her, leaving silence in her wake.

Only then did Jayce turn toward you and Viktor, running a hand through his hair.

"Sorry about that," he said casually. "She just needed to talk about some... council stuff."

You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. "No worries," you said brightly, your voice too high, too fake. "We didn’t miss you that much."

Jayce laughed, easy and unbothered, while you forced yourself to look away before he could see the crack in your mask.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur. You barely heard the discussions about prototypes, barely registered Viktor's quiet gaze whenever he glanced your way. Jayce was distracted too, you noticed, checking his watch, smiling by himself. He barely teased you like he usually did. He barely looked at you.

By the time you were finally done for the day, exhaustion, the emotional kind, the heavy, aching kind, settled deep in your bones.

As you gathered your things, Jayce slung his bag over his shoulder and grinned at you. "Hey, Y/N, sorry I’m gonna have to bail tonight. I promised Mel I’d meet her for dinner."

You blinked, once, twice, like maybe you misheard him.

"Oh," you said. Your voice sounded strange in your ears. "Yeah. Of course."

He clapped you lightly on the shoulder, a quick, careless gesture that once would have felt warm. Now it burned.

"I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Sure," you said.

And just like that, he was gone, the door swinging shut behind him.

You stood there in the empty lab, Viktor silently packing up his things nearby, and for the first time in a long, long time, you felt truly, completely alone.

Chapter Text

You didn’t go home right away, the city had a hush over it that night, dim and dreamy.

So, you didn’t wait. Not really. You just... wandered.

You ended up at the edge of the river, where the water cut through Piltover like a living vein, glittering under the city’s golden lights. You sat on the cold stone ledge, arms hugging your knees, and tried not to think.

But of course, you did.

You thought of the way Jayce used to sit beside you and ramble about the future. You thought about the time you both fell asleep in his lab, shoulder to shoulder, breathing in sync. You thought about how his hand had once lingered in yours after a long night, and how neither of you said anything, but something had passed between you. At least, you thought it had. You felt stupid. Because maybe all this time, you’ve been nothing but a placeholder. You bit your lip and blinked back the tears threatening to fall. The wind off the river was cold, and the silence around you even colder. Jayce was out there somewhere, with Mel, probably laughing over wine, eyes sparkling like they used to when he looked at you.

The Next Morning.

You arrived at the lab early, hoping to avoid them both. The air smelled like metal and ink, machines whirring softly in the background. Viktor was already at his station, hunched over a glowing schematic, sipping tea from a chipped mug.

“Morning,” he said without looking up.

“Morning,” you murmured.

You tried to focus on your desk, on the mess of notes and tools, but your eyes kept flicking to the door.

At 09:17 AM, Jayce walked in. He was glowing.

Hair tousled, eyes bright, a stupid grin plastered across his face like a boy in love. He greeted Viktor first, tossing him a croissant, then turned to you.

“Hey! You’re early.”

You smiled faintly. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Jayce didn’t notice the edge in your voice. He set his bag down and ran a hand through his hair, still smiling to himself like he couldn’t contain it.

Viktor glanced at him. “You look... radiant.”

Jayce laughed. “Last night was amazing.”

You froze. He kept going.

“Mel took me to this rooftop place, the view was insane. She knows the owner, of course she does, and they gave us a private table. The food was great, the music was old Piltover jazz, and she…” He trailed off, grinning to himself like a schoolboy. “She’s the most elegant woman I’ve ever seen.”

You didn’t speak. Just stared down at your notes, pretending to read.

“She was wearing this dark red dress,” Jayce added, “with these gold accents. She looked like she belonged in a painting. It’s crazy. She’s not like anyone I’ve ever met.”

Viktor hummed politely. “Sounds like you’re in love.”

Jayce chuckled. “Maybe.”

Your throat felt tight. Your hands clenched under the table.

He’d never looked at you like that, not once. And now here he was, painting her in gold with words you had only ever dreamed of hearing from him.

And the worst part?

He didn’t even notice what it was doing to you.

Morning passed you barely said a word for the rest of it.

Jayce was caught in his own world, floating on whatever high Mel had given him. He’d talk to you like nothing had changed, like your heart wasn’t quietly fracturing every time he smiled while her name left his mouth.

You wanted to scream, and slap the shit out of him.
But instead, you just nodded, smiled when expected, and busied yourself with work you weren’t even truly reading.

Viktor noticed.

By noon, he wheeled over closer, glancing sidelong at you before softly asking, “You alright?”

You looked up at him, startled, not because he asked, but because he asked like he knew something. Like he saw you.

You hesitated. “Yeah. Just tired.”

He didn’t buy it, but he didn’t push. “Let’s take a break.”

You blinked. “Now?”

“Yes. Now. I’m craving something sweet,” he said lightly. “Besides, I can’t handle another minute of Jayce recounting every detail of Mel’s dress.”

You laughed, unexpectedly, a small, bitter sound. “You heard that too?”

“He’s not exactly subtle.”

You stood up without thinking. “Alright. I’m really in the mood for tea.”

“Tea?” Viktor said with a soft smile. “Sounds good.”

He led you to a small garden tucked behind the building, quiet and overgrown with ivy, one of those places only someone like Viktor would know. A wrought iron bench sat under a tree blooming with violet flowers. He sat with a wince, motioning for you to join him.

You sat in silence as he poured two cups of tea from a little thermos he’d brought, fragrant, warm, calming. The heat helped, but only slightly.

He glanced over, brow furrowed. “You are... not quite yourself today.”

You smiled faintly. “I’m fine.”

“You are not,” he said gently. “But I will not press. I just...” He hesitated. “I noticed.”

You looked down at your cup, watching the steam swirl.

“Is it that obvious?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

Viktor shook his head. “No. Not to most. But I’m observant.”

He didn't say it like it was a skill, more like it was a curse.

You turned your gaze toward the small flowers sprouting along the garden path. “Jayce doesn’t notice.”

“No,” Viktor agreed, softly. “He doesn’t.”

You exhaled slowly, bitterly. “I guess he’s too busy being in love to see it.”

Viktor didn’t respond at first. He only nodded, then carefully he spoke “Jayce is... enthusiastic. But not very perceptive.” His eyes flicked toward you, pained. “Especially when it comes to people who hide their feelings behind a smile.”

Your breath caught.

“You should tell him,” Viktor said quietly. “Before it’s too late.”

You blinked, turning to look at him. His voice was calm, steady. But his hands tightened around the teacup, knuckles white.

“What if it already is?” you asked.

Viktor looked away. “Then at least you won’t have to wonder anymore.”

There was something heavy in his tone, something unspoken. You stared at him for a long moment, suddenly aware of the subtle shift in the air. The way he couldn't quite meet your gaze. The way his words trembled, not in voice, but in meaning.

You knew how he felt. And he still told you to chase someone else.

Your heart twisted with a new kind of ache.

“Thank you, Viktor,” you said softly.

He nodded once, still not looking at you.

You didn’t say it, but you both understood the weight of what wasn’t said between you.

He loved you. And he still let you go.

An hour passed since Viktor returned to the lab, you lingered in the garden, the breeze cold against your skin despite the warmth of the sun. You sat on the bench, silent and unmoving, your tea long gone cold in your hands.

The garden was still. Birds chirped in the trees above, distant laughter echoed from the street, and somewhere beyond the ivy-covered walls, the city pulsed on, alive, indifferent. You hated how peaceful it was.

Because inside you, everything was unraveling.

You kept replaying Viktor’s voice in your head. 'You should tell him, before it’s too late.'

But wasn’t it already?

Jayce looked at Mel like she hung the stars. He laughed around her like he used to laugh around you. Now, all that joy he used to share with you, those nights sneaking up to the rooftops, those days drenched in paint and sunlight, those stolen, stupid kisses you never questioned, he was giving them to someone else. And the worst part?

He didn’t even know he was hurting you.

He never knew, never saw. You had made yourself invisible just to stay beside him.

You closed your eyes. You thought of how Viktor looked at you, his voice so calm, his gaze so distant, like he’d already accepted your choice. As if he knew he’d never be the one, and he still gave you the push you needed. That kind of love was quiet. It didn’t demand. It didn’t burn. It waited in silence, even as it bled.

And still... you wanted Jayce.

You hated yourself for it.

“Why do I still want him,” you whispered into your palms, fingers tangled in your hair. “Why can’t I stop?”

You felt like a fool. Like a ghost haunting a version of the past that no longer existed.

The garden swayed gently around you, like it was breathing. You envied it, its stillness, its clarity. You didn’t know what to do. Tell him? What would it change? Would he laugh? Look at you with that polite pity? Would he say he was flattered, then run back to her, back to the golden, polished world where you didn’t belong?

And yet... what if you didn’t tell him?

What if you stayed here, stuck in this nightmare of almosts and what-ifs, watching him fall deeper into someone else, while you wasted away pretending you didn’t care?

Your hands trembled. You pressed them to your chest, trying to ground yourself.

You needed to decide.

But all you could do was sit there, alone in the garden, as the sun slid behind the buildings, casting long shadows over the flowers.

And for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel like his partner. You didn’t feel like anyone’s anything.

You just felt... lost.

The next day came in grey.

You hadn’t slept, your thoughts had never quieted. You kept hearing Viktor’s voice, and your own over it, full of doubt, of aching.

You didn’t say a word on the walk to the lab. Jayce didn’t seem to notice.

He was too busy smiling by himself, thinking about something, or rather, someone.

“Mel invited me to a dinner thing tonight,” he said as the two of you entered the elevator. His voice was light, almost giddy. “Just a small gathering. Political types. But she said she’d like me there.”

You gave a tight nod, eyes forward. “That’s nice.”

“She’s... really something,” he added, more to himself than to you.

You said nothing.

The elevator dinged. The moment passed. You went about your tasks in the lab with a mechanical precision, trying not to glance at him. But every time you did, he was smiling. Not at you.

Later that day, you stepped out to grab more tools from the storage room down the hall. When you came back, the door to the lab wasn’t fully shut. You paused as you heard voices.

Jayce. And Viktor.

You didn’t mean to eavesdrop. You really didn’t. But something in Jayce’s tone made you stop.

“I think I might be falling for her,” he said. Softly. Like he was scared of it, but also thrilled. “She’s just... Mel has this elegance, this vision. She makes me feel like I could be more. Like I already am.”

Viktor was quiet for a beat.

“You sound sure,” he finally replied.

“I am. I’ve never felt this way before.”

You stood frozen behind the door, breath caught in your throat.

Not this way before. Not with you.

Not after everything. Not after the years of laughter, the shared projects, the moments so intimate they never needed words. Not after the kisses, god, the kisses that you thought meant something. All of it, apparently, was nothing more than friendly affection.

Your heart didn’t break, it just... stopped.

Something inside you went cold, quiet. Like the last ember had finally burned out.

You turned and walked away before they saw you, before Viktor could glance at the door, realize you had heard, and offer that pitying look again. You didn’t want his softness, his kindness. Not right now.

You needed silence.

You found it in the corridor. In a forgotten stairwell. You leaned against the wall and stared blankly at the opposite one, the sound of Jayce’s voice echoing inside your skull.

'I’ve never felt this way before.'

Chapter Text

That night, you stared at the ceiling for hours. The shadows on the walls shifted with every car that passed outside your window, and yet your thoughts stayed locked on one single truth, You had to tell him.

Maybe Jayce had said he’d never felt that way before, but people said things without thinking. People exaggerated, got caught up in the moment. Maybe he didn’t realize what you meant to him. Maybe Mel was just... new. Shiny. Exciting. But you? You were constant. You were home. You clung to that.

You thought about every look he gave you that lingered just a little too long, every time his voice softened when he said your name, every kiss that came without a reason.

There had been something there.

And if there was even a chance he felt it too, wasn’t it worth the risk?

You sat up in bed and reached for your notebook, heart pounding.

The words wouldn’t come at first. But then they did, fast, messy, raw. A rush of everything you’d held back for years. The things you’d never dared to say. You weren’t going to hand him a letter, no. You just needed to see the words for yourself, to make them real.

You spent the whole night, writing, bleeding on that piece of paper. By the time you were done, the sun was starting to rise.

You threw on your coat, barely bothered with breakfast, barely cared about your reflection. This wasn’t about looking perfect. This was about truth.

You saw Jayce waiting by your apartment like he always did when you walked together.

He looked up, smiled when he saw you.

Familiar. Easy. Like nothing had changed.

Your heart hurt, but it also surged with something else, hope. Maybe. Just maybe.

“Hey, you’re early,” he said, joining you.

You shrugged, trying to seem casual. “Didn’t sleep much.”

“Same,” he said, stifling a yawn. “Had Mel on my mind all night.”

The words hit like a slap. But you didn’t let it show.

Now or never.

You inhaled sharply, walking beside him through the chilly morning air. “Jayce,” you said, voice firmer than you expected, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

He looked at you, curious. “Yeah?”

Your fingers trembled at your sides. But you didn’t stop walking. Didn’t look away.

“I’m in love with you.”

Silence.

You kept your eyes ahead, because if you looked at him, if you saw that look, you wouldn’t be able to say the rest.

“I have been for a long time. And I know we’re best friends, I know this could ruin everything, but I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this. I just... needed you to know.”

The world was quiet around you, except for your own heartbeat, screaming in your ears.

Jayce stopped walking. You finally looked at him.

What you saw on his face wasn’t love. It was confusion.

Then something else, something worse.

Pity. And then, laughter.

Not cruel. Not mocking. Just... disbelieving.  

“Oh,” he said. “Y/N... I didn’t think you were serious.”

You froze.

“Come on,” he added, still smiling, like this was a joke. “You and me? We’re just friends. I mean, you’re like my sister. I love you, but not like that.”

You couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move.

“I thought you knew that,” he said gently, like he was doing you a favor.

But then it got worse. He kept talking.

“Mel, she’s different. She’s, elegant. Refined. Confident in a way that just, draws people in. She’s everything I didn’t even know I wanted.”

Your jaw tightened, your hands curled into fists.

“You’re not her,” he said. “You never will be.”

Your voice was low, strained. “She can’t love you like I do.”

Jayce’s expression shifted. The condescension disappeared, replaced by something sharper. His smile fell. “What?”

“She can’t fulfill you. She doesn’t know you. Not like I do.” You said looking up at him. 

He stared at you like you’d slapped him.

“You don’t get to say that,” he said, voice rising. “You don’t know what we have.”

You stepped back. “I know what we had. I know how you looked at me. I know what we shared.”

“What we shared,” he snapped, “was friendship. You twisted that into something else. That’s not on me.”

Jayce’s words sliced through the air like a blade.

You swallowed hard, something trembling behind your voice. “Then what about the kisses, Jayce?” you asked, your voice just above a whisper.

He looked at you, eyes flickering. But he didn’t answer.

You took a step forward. “The nights we spent together. Sleeping in the same bed. You’d hold me like I was... something fragile. You looked at me like I was yours. You kissed me like it meant something.”

He opened his mouth, but you didn’t give him the chance.

“You don’t get to pretend that never happened.”

Jayce rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly restless. He didn’t look at you. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

You stared. “You didn’t mean anything by it?” The words echoed in your skull like a scream.

“It wasn’t supposed to be serious,” he said, too fast. “I thought you understood. I mean, we were close. We are. But it wasn’t love. It was just, comfort.”

“So that’s what I was to you you fucking son of a bitch?” you asked. “A warm body when you were lonely?”

“That’s not what I meant,” he muttered, but the damage was already done.

You took another step back, this time like it physically hurt to be near him. “You let me fall in love with you. And you kept me there. You let me believe this was something.”

Jayce looked down, finally silent. But it was too late.

You turned and walked away, heart cracked open, blood in your mouth, rage curling around your ribs.

The walk to the lab was a blur. Your chest felt too tight to breathe properly, and by the time you stepped inside, your eyes burned but stayed dry. You couldn’t cry. Not yet. Not in front of him.

Viktor was already there, hunched over the edge of a schematic, a cup of tea at his side. He glanced up when he heard the door click shut.

“Morning,” he started, but paused. His eyes lingered.

“Something’s wrong,” he said immediately. “What happened?”

You didn’t answer. You just stood there.

He set down his pen slowly, cautiously, and came closer. “Did something happen with Jayce?”

Still, you stayed silent.

But then the lab doors opened again, and Jayce walked in like nothing had happened, like he hadn’t torn a hole in your chest fifteen minutes ago.

He froze when he saw you both.

Viktor turned to him. “Jayce.”

Jayce avoided your eyes.

“What happened?” Viktor asked, his voice firmer now, protective.

Jayce scoffed bitterly and waved a hand. “Y/N just confessed she’s in love with me and said she’s better than Mel. That I should be with her instead.”

Silence fell over the lab like a thunderclap. You didn’t flinch.

But Viktor did. His jaw clenched. Something dark flickered across his face.

Jayce kept going, like he needed to justify himself. “She said Mel can’t love me like she does. That I won’t find someone like her again. Like I should just throw everything away because she’s always been there.”

“Jayce,” Viktor said, voice quiet, dangerously calm. “That’s enough.”

Jayce blinked. “What? I’m just telling you what happened.”

Viktor’s eyes didn’t leave Jayce’s, and for one terrifying moment, it looked like he might actually lose his temper. But instead, he stepped between the two of you, placing a steady hand on your back.

“Come with me,” he murmured, his voice low but urgent.

You didn’t argue. You didn’t even look at Jayce. You just followed Viktor, numb and quiet, out of the lab and down the hall.

He led you to one of the old empty rooms just beyond the stairwell, a place you both used sometimes when the noise of the lab became too much. It was quiet now, lit only by the late morning sun filtering through the high windows. Viktor closed the door behind you.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then he turned to you, his gaze softening. “Y/N,” he said gently. “What happened?”

That was all it took.

Your lips parted, and everything spilled out, every detail of your confession, the look on Jayce’s face when he laughed, the things he said, the way he turned your love into something small and delusional. You didn’t even realize you were crying until Viktor stepped closer and cupped your shoulders.

“He said I twisted our friendship,” you whispered, broken. “That it was comfort. That what we had wasn’t real.”

You couldn’t look up. Shame curled in your chest like smoke.

But Viktor’s arms wrapped around you before the shame could swallow you whole. He didn’t speak right away. He just held you, firm and steady, his presence anchoring you while the grief tore its way out.

“I’m so stupid,” you choked out, burying your face into his coat. “I thought he saw me. I know he did.”

“You’re not stupid,” Viktor said fiercely. “You gave your heart to someone you trusted. That doesn’t make you weak. That makes him a fool.”

You clung to him, sobs finally slowing into shivers.

After a long pause, he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. His voice was soft. Careful.

“There’s still hope,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Jayce... he’s impulsive. He doesn’t understand what he’s throwing away. Sometimes people have to lose something before they realize what it meant.”

You swallowed hard, searching his eyes.

“But if he doesn’t?” you whispered. “What if he never looks back?”

Viktor’s gaze faltered, just for a moment. Something raw flickered in his eyes, something he didn’t say.

“Then,” he murmured, “someone else will see you. Truly see you. And they’ll never let you go.”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Because you didn’t know that he already had.

The lab was quiet when you returned with Viktor, but not empty.

Jayce was there muttering under his breath like he was trying to rewrite the memory of what had happened. His shoulders tensed when the doors hissed open behind you, and his eyes flicked over, just briefly. He looked at you, not quite anger, not quite regret, but something colder, distant.

Viktor stepped forward carefully. “Jayce.”

Jayce’s jaw clenched. “Don’t.”

“You shouldn’t let one conversation destroy everything you’ve built,” Viktor said gently. “You and Y/N, you’ve been friends for years. Closer than anyone I know. Don’t throw that away.”

Jayce’s jaw tensed as he looked off to the side. He wasn’t angry, not anymore, just frustrated, tired. He let out a bitter breath through his nose and muttered, “I know.”

He ran a hand through his hair, eyes flicking between the floor and the wall, unable to meet either of your gazes. “I snapped. I shouldn’t have.” He shook his head. “It just caught me off guard. I didn’t expect it. I didn’t know what to say.”

Viktor stepped closer. “Then say what needs to be said now. But don’t punish her for something that took a lot of courage.”

Jayce sighed. “It’s not that simple. She said things, Viktor. Things about Mel. About us. Like I owed her something.”

“She’s in pain,” Viktor said. “She spoke from that place. I don’t think she expected anything from you except honesty and respect.”

Jayce winced, guilt flashing in his eyes.

Viktor softened. “You were cruel.”

“I know,” Jayce said, quieter now. “I just... I panicked. I thought we understood each other. I didn’t want to lose what we had. But now-” He cut himself off, lips pressing into a line.

“You’re not going to fix this by pretending it didn’t happen,” Viktor said. “But you can fix it. You both can. This doesn’t have to end with resentment and silence.”

Jayce finally glanced at you. Briefly.

He cleared his throat, clearly trying to shift gears. “Drinks later tonight? My treat. Like old times.”

Viktor shook his head. “Not for me. You know I shouldn’t.”

Jayce’s smile faltered a little, but he didn’t push it. “Right. Just us then?” His eyes met yours this time.

You nodded, even if your chest still ached.

Later that night.

The city lights glittered in the distance as you stepped into the bar beside Jayce. You wore something tight, sleek, the kind of outfit that made heads turn the moment you walked in. Even Jayce did a double take.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath. “Trying to get me killed tonight?”

You smirked. “Just thought I’d make it harder to ignore me.”

The drinks started flowing too easily, one, then two, then five. You were both laughing again, a little too loudly. Like nothing had happened. Like you hadn’t torn your heart open that morning.

Jayce leaned against the bar, shirt slightly undone, drink in hand, eyes glassy. “You always knew how to keep up,” he said, voice slurring just a bit. “Even when we were kids. Remember that summer?”

You nodded, sipping whatever bitter thing you’d been handed. “You dared me to jump off that rooftop.”

He laughed. “And you did. You always did.”

You looked at him, really looked. His cheeks were flushed, hair messy, tie long forgotten. There was a fragility to him now, one you rarely saw. He looked tired, and a little lost.

“Jayce,” you said, quieter this time.

He turned to you, eyes flicking down, to your mouth, your collarbone, your eyes again.

There was a beat. A second too long.

Then he looked away and muttered, “You look good tonight.”

You teased, “Do I look better than her?”

He didn’t answer.

The silence between you stretched, heavy and sharp. The buzz of the bar faded into background noise, the clink of glasses, the hum of music, the low chatter of strangers, all of it drowned beneath the weight of what he didn’t say.

You finished your drink in one long sip, eyes never leaving his face.

“Right,” you said finally, standing. Your legs were steady, but only just. “Guess that’s my cue.”

“Wait, Y/N,” Jayce reached out, his fingers brushing your wrist, barely there.

You looked down at his hand. “What?”

He hesitated, searching your face. Like he wanted to say something. Like he didn’t know how.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“But you did,” you replied flatly. “And you keep doing it. You keep looking at me like I’m supposed to understand, like I’m supposed to be okay with it.”

Jayce blinked, visibly shrinking back into himself. “I just... I don’t want to lose you.”

You stared at him for a long time. “You already did.”

Jayce didn’t move, his fingers still resting against your wrist, unsure if he should hold on or let go. His mouth opened slightly, as if words were going to follow, but they never did.

Instead, something desperate flickered in his eyes. Something that looked a little too much like regret.

He stepped closer, slowly. “Y/N...”

You shook your head, tired of hearing your name like it was a question he couldn’t answer.

But then, suddenly, he cupped your face.

It wasn’t rough. It wasn’t soft. It was full of confusion, longing, conflict. Like he was chasing a version of you he had buried years ago and just now remembered.

His forehead pressed against yours, breath shallow. “Why does it feel like I’m losing you all at once?”

You could barely breathe. “Because you are.”

Silence again. The kind that shakes something in your chest.

And then, he kissed you.

It wasn’t the hungry kind of kiss you’d imagined in dreams. It was slow, hesitant, like he was trying to figure out if this would make things better or worse. Like he didn’t know how to be near you anymore unless he drowned it all out.

You didn’t stop him.

For a moment, you leaned into it, your hands tangled in his coat, lips pressing back as old memories surged, quiet nights, shared laughter, the way he used to look at you when he thought you weren’t watching.

But as his hands slid around your waist and the kiss deepened, you pulled away.

“Don’t,” you whispered, breathless, eyes searching his. “Not like this.”

Jayce froze.

You could see it now, the guilt creeping in, the confusion, the realization of what he’d just done.

“I can’t keep being your almost,” you said. “Either love me or let me go.”

You didn’t wait for an answer. You walked out of the bar, heart pounding, leaving him behind in the place where your love had been misheard too many times.

Chapter Text

Later that night, you went home, and slept like the dead.

When you finally opened your eyes, the sun had already started its slow crawl across the sky. Harsh light filtered through the curtains, making you squint. Your head throbbed. Your limbs ached. And your heart felt like something had torn right through it in the night.

Because maybe something had. You sat up slowly, the covers tangled around your legs, still in the clothes from the night before. The memory struck fast and sharp, the kiss, his hands on your waist, the look in his eyes when you pulled away.

'I can’t keep being your almost.'

You dragged yourself to the kitchen and made breakfast out of muscle memory, burnt toast, hot tea. You barely touched it. Your appetite had gone quiet, same as everything else.

The bathwater clung to your skin like warmth you hadn’t felt in days. The scent of vanilla and amber wrapped around you like memory, something soft, comforting.

You let your head tilt back against the porcelain edge, eyes half-lidded, steam curling around your face like a protective shroud.

Water lapping gently against your skin, the soft crackle of a candle nearby, and your breathing, finally steady.

You ran your fingers along the surface of the water. The warmth kissed every ache in your limbs. It almost felt like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t looked you in the eyes and told you that you were just a friend. Like he hadn’t kissed you only to let silence fall heavier than guilt.

You wrapped yourself in a robe and curled up on the couch, the fabric soft against your skin, still warm from the bath. The world outside your window moved on as if nothing had happened.

You reached over and placed the needle on the old gramophone. A low crackle, then the hum of soft music filled the room, something slow and melancholic. A melody that didn’t try to distract you, only to sit with you. Let you ache in peace.

You pulled your knees to your chest, arms hugging them tightly, your gaze drifting toward the ceiling. You hadn’t gone to the lab today. You couldn’t. The idea of seeing Jayce again, of pretending to be okay while the edges of your chest still felt scorched, it was too much.

Viktor would understand. He always did.

You glanced toward the desk, where a note and pen sat waiting. You thought about writing him something. Thought about getting up, grabbing your coat, walking all the way to the lab just to speak with him. But your body didn’t move. You stayed there, caught between wanting to disappear and wanting someone to find you.

The music played on, curling through the room like a memory you couldn’t place.

Eventually, you whispered to the stillness, like maybe he could hear you from wherever he was, “Viktor... I need a few days.”

The knock at the door was soft, barely there, like whoever was on the other side wasn’t sure they should be.

You didn’t move at first. Just stared, half-lidded, from where you lay on the couch, blanket pulled to your chin, music still whispering low from the gramophone. You hadn’t told anyone where you were. You hadn't needed to.

Another knock. A pause. Then a quiet, familiar voice.

“Y/N... it’s me.”

Viktor.

You closed your eyes briefly. You hadn’t even written the note yet. Hadn’t reached out. Of course he noticed.

You pulled yourself upright, fixing the robe, brushing your fingers through your damp hair, trying to look less like heartbreak. It didn’t work.

When you opened the door, Viktor stood there, coat on, cane in hand, wind-tousled hair. His amber eyes swept over you in one long, thoughtful glance.

“You didn’t come to the lab,” he said softly.

You offered a small shrug. “I needed time.”

“I figured.” His gaze dropped to the floor, then back up to yours. “May I come in?”

You stepped aside silently, letting him pass.

Viktor moved through your apartment carefully, respectfully. He didn’t sit until you did. His eyes, always so sharp behind that calm exterior, didn’t miss a thing, the still-burning candles, the untouched mug of tea, the way your shoulders never quite relaxed.

“You look tired,” he said, not unkindly.

“I am.”

“I wanted to check on you,” he said. “After yesterday”

You looked down at your hands.

Viktor hesitated. “You don’t have to talk about it. Not if it hurts.”

“It does.” Your voice came quiet. “But I think it hurts more not to.”

His expression didn’t change much, but the flicker of something soft passed through it. He reached out and gently placed his hand over yours. Not to pull you close, not to fix you, just to remind you he was there.

“I know what it’s like,” Viktor said quietly, “to love someone who can’t love you back. To be overlooked. To give everything and receive almost.”

Your head turned toward him, surprised. He only gave a sad smile.

“That kind of pain doesn’t just go away,” he continued. “But you don’t have to carry it alone.”

You swallowed hard.

“I’m not sure I can face him again.”

“Then don’t,” Viktor said, firmer this time. “Not until you’re ready. Let him sit with his choices. He may have broken something in you, but you are not broken.”

You didn’t realize you were crying until Viktor reached up, gently brushing a tear away with the back of his knuckle. It lingered, his hand, his gaze, too long for someone who claimed only friendship.

“You didn’t have to come,” you whispered.

“I did,” he murmured. “Because he doesn’t see you. Not the way I do.”

And for the first time in days, you didn’t feel invisible.

When Viktor left, the silence returned, but this time, it wasn’t heavy. It was peaceful.

You stood in the middle of your apartment for a while, fingers loosely curled at your sides. The scent of vanilla and warm bathwater still lingered in the air, but beneath it, something else had started to bloom, resolve.

You hated feeling weak. Fragile. Like your whole being could come undone just because of one man who couldn’t decide what you meant to him.

So, you started small. You stripped the sheets from your bed, tossing them in a heap. The new ones, silk, dark red, rich like dried wine, slid over the mattress like a second skin. You ran your hand over them slowly, grounding yourself in the feeling.

Then, the walls.

You had some old paintings, those pieces. Not for anyone, just for yourself, soft lines, deep shadows. You’d kept them hidden in a corner of your closet like secrets. But now, you hung them proudly, your pain in plain sight, beautiful and unrepentant.

After that, your nails, painted dark red, the same shade as the sheets. Your favorite color. You stared at your fingers for a long time afterward, admiring the way they no longer looked like hands that trembled after heartbreak.

And finally, the kitchen.

You rolled up your sleeves, tied your hair back, and put on the old apron that still smelled faintly of cinnamon, cocoa powder and sugar. Flour dusted the air, the warmth of the oven was comforting, steady. You made a rich cake, dark chocolate, just sweet enough, and trays of cookies made especially for Viktor.

You thought about swinging by the lab the next morning and giving him some. Just as a thank you. Or maybe an apology for burdening him with what you were too afraid to say.

The apartment was full now, not with people, but with the scent of home, the glow of dusk through clean windows, and the hum of someone putting themselves back together.

The morning sun filtered in through the thin curtains of your apartment, casting soft golden stripes across the floor. For the first time in what felt like forever, you woke up without that heavy weight in your chest.

You ate breakfast slowly, not out of hunger but out of peace. Toast, eggs, some fruit. You dressed in something simple and soft, a dress that brushed your thighs and a pair of kitten heels you hadn’t worn in weeks. You weren’t going to stay long at the lab. You still needed your space. But there was something you wanted to do first.

The cookies were already wrapped in a napkin, tucked in lovely box you found in one of your kitchen drawers. You’d scrawled a quick note inside the lid, just his name, nothing more.

The walk to the lab was calm, a chill in the air brushing your skin.

You reached the lab just after noon. The doors creaked open softly, the familiar scent of oil and heat greeting you like an old friend.

Viktor was inside, leaning over a table covered in blueprints and prototype pieces. Jayce stood nearby, his back turned, sleeves rolled up as he adjusted some sort of core mechanism. They didn’t hear you come in at first.

You cleared your throat gently. “Morning.”

Viktor looked up immediately, golden eyes widening a little in surprise, before softening into a small smile. “Ah. Y/N.” 

Jayce glanced over his shoulder, “Didn’t think we’d see you today.”

“I’m not staying,” you replied, gaze brushing past him as quickly as possible. “I just had something to drop off.”

You walked to Viktor, ignoring the static between you and Jayce like it didn’t exist. You set the cookies down on the worktable beside him, carefully. “I made cookies. Thought you might want some.”

He blinked, looking down at the box like it was something sacred. Then up at you. “You made these?”

You nodded.

A moment passed. He opened the box, lifting the corner of the napkin, eyes lighting up ever so subtly at the familiar scent.

“Chocolate chip,” you said, lips tugging into a ghost of a smile. “With cinnamon.”

He looked genuinely touched. “You remembered.”

“I remember everything,” you said softly.

Jayce had gone quiet behind you, his gaze lingering. You didn’t look at him.

Viktor took one of the cookies and held it gently, “You didn’t have to bring these.”

“I wanted to,” you said. “You’ve been kind. I needed to thank you somehow.”

He paused, then said, “You’re welcome to rest here. If you’d like.”

Your eyes flicked briefly to Jayce, then away. “Not today.”

Viktor gave a small nod, understanding without pushing.

You stepped back toward the door. “Thank you,” Viktor called after you, gently.

You looked back once, just for him. “Take care of yourself, Viktor.”

Then you left.

Jayce’s POV after that night.

The apartment door shut behind him with a soft click.

Jayce didn’t even bother turning the lights on. He just leaned back against the door, slid down slowly until he was sitting on the floor, knees drawn up, breath shallow. The city outside buzzed with life, but inside, it felt like the air had stilled completely.

His lips still tingled from the kiss.

That kiss.

His fingers brushed his mouth unconsciously, but the feeling wasn’t warmth or satisfaction, it was confusion. Guilt. And underneath it, something deeper, more complex. Something he couldn’t put a name to.

What the hell had he done?

He exhaled sharply and tilted his head back against the wooden door, staring at the ceiling like it might have answers. But it didn’t. All it did was bring back more of your voice. The way you looked at him when you said, 'Either love me or let me go.'

He didn’t answer you. Couldn’t.

So you walked away. And he let you.

And now, sitting alone in the dark, he hated himself for it, but not for the reasons you might’ve hoped.

His thoughts drifted back to Mel.

Mel, with her golden control and deliberate grace. Mel, who fit into his world like a perfect puzzle piece, sharp and brilliant and always a little out of reach. She challenged him. She inspired him. She wanted the same future he did, power, legacy, revolution. She looked at him like he was already the man he wanted to become.

But then there was you. And you were everything he couldn’t define.

You’d always been there, quietly, consistently. Not demanding nor prying. But watching and waiting. Offering warmth he didn’t know he needed until it was gone. You listened. You saw him when he was tired and lost and angry, and you never flinched. You never needed him to be great.

You just, wanted him.

He swallowed hard, dragging a hand down his face.

Why did you have to say those things? Why did you have to love him so loudly all of a sudden, when he had spent so long pretending not to see it?

And worse, why the fuck did he kiss you?

The answer, if he was honest, sat bitter in his chest.

Because it felt good.

Because in that moment, when your eyes were sad and your voice broke, he wanted to make it stop. He wanted to reach for something familiar, something comforting, something that didn’t require him to question every step he’d taken with Mel. Because for just a moment, kissing you let him forget how messy everything had become.

But the problem was, it didn’t end there.

You weren’t just going to disappear like a bad dream. You were still in his life. Still at the lab. Still looking at him like maybe, just maybe, he’d choose you.

And that terrified the shit out of him.

Because no matter how strong his feelings were for Mel, and they were real, solid, even intense, there was something about you that untangled him in ways Mel never could. You made him feel things he didn’t know how to name. Things that weren’t clean or appropriate. Things that made him unsure of himself.

He sat forward, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. The echo of your laugh haunted him. The look in your eyes after he said you were like a sister, God, what a lie that had been.

But if he kept you in his life, close, circling just outside of reach, he knew it would destroy everything he was trying to build with Mel.

He had to choose.

And you? You were unpredictable. You reminded him too much of who he used to be before the Council, before the fame, before Piltover politics. When things were simpler.

He needed control now, a future. Mel gave him that.

So he made the decision. You had to go.

Not disappear, not literally. But distance, he has to create it. Push you out, make it hurt if it has to. You loved him too much to stay friends without hurting.

And as long as you were around he’d never be able to commit fully to Mel.

08:45 AM

Jayce stared out the window, morning light creeping in over the horizon, casting long shadows across his apartment floor. He hadn’t slept. His eyes were bloodshot, jaw tight, every muscle in his body tied with guilt.

This wasn’t going to work, not like this.

If he wanted a future with Mel, if he wanted peace, then you had to be gone, but not just gone. You had to want to leave.

Because if he just told you to go , if he tried to explain , you’d obviously stay, you’d wait, you’d try so hard to make it right, you’d forgive him, even after everything.

And he couldn’t let you do that. He needed to become someone you couldn’t love anymore.

He stood, finally, dragging himself into the kitchen, poured a glass of water, stared down at it like it might show him who he really is, a man willing to hurt someone who loved him just to protect a relationship built on ambition and dreams.

It had to be brutal, it had to be final. No apology, no explanation.

So he started plotting.

First he would ignore you at the lab, make it cold and awkward, eye contact only when necessary, talk over you if he had to and let Viktor notice. Let you notice.

Next, weaken you in front of others, gently, at first. Correct your theories unnecessarily, make jokes that made you feel small, remind you that you were never quite the one who built this. That he was the face of the revolution and that you were replaceable.

Then, mention Mel more, praise her in ways he used to praise you, call her “brilliant” in passing. Let you hear it, let it hurt.

He could even drop hints that you were becoming a distraction, say it to Viktor, loud enough for you to overhear, cold enough that it would sound like he never meant anything that passed between you.

And then, an idea came to him.

It wasn’t just about ignoring you, undermining you, erasing you from his life, that would take time, and time meant more pain for both of you. He needed a shortcut, something final and devastating.

Something you would never recover from.

His mind flashed to all those times you used to snatch his laptop at the lab, teasing, nosy, always looking for something funny, or interesting, or just to annoy him. You obviously knew his password, he never changed it, part of him had liked the way you put yourself into his space like you belonged there.

But now, that old familiarity could become a weapon.

He sat back down at the desk, fingers hovering over the keys, slowly, he created a new folder. He didn’t bother hiding it well, just enough that someone like you might take the bait.

And into that folder, he dropped the video, a brief recording from his private time with Mel that he never deleted, a sex tape, he knew it would do the trick. 

Jayce walked into the lab that morning, his laptop  was tucked under his arm like a ticking bomb, he placed it on the desk casually, like it was just another tool in his arsenal, pretending it didn’t hold the cruelest thing he’d ever done.

You didn’t show up that day.

Not in the morning, not in the afternoon, not even when Viktor mentioned that you were supposed to be back. Jayce tried to keep his expression neutral, even as Viktor glanced at the clock for the fourth time.

By evening, Viktor frowned, standing and pulling on his coat.

“I’m going to check on her.”

Jayce raised a brow, keeping his voice calm. “You think she’s alright?”

“I don’t know,” Viktor said evenly. “But I intend to find out.”

Jayce said nothing. Just watched him leave.

The next morning.

The sound of heels echoed through the hallway before you even opened the door.

Jayce looked up from the workbench. And froze.

You stepped into the lab like a storm of sunlight, radiant and glowing. A soft, red, flowy dress clung to you in the right places, and your heels clicked confidently against the tile. Your hair was pinned just enough to look effortless. The scent of warm vanilla trailed behind you, subtle but unforgettable.

You carried a small box in your hands.

Jayce’s mouth went dry. You didn’t even look at him.

You walked straight past him, unbothered, and made your way to Viktor.

After handing Viktor the cookies and exchanging a few soft words with him, you turned, your dress swaying gently with your movement. The click of your heels was the only sound in the room, and for Jayce, it was deafening.

And then you were gone. The door shut behind you with a click.

He knew you’d be back, maybe tomorrow, maybe next week.

And when you do, you’d find exactly what he had left waiting for you on that laptop.

Chapter Text

You woke up to soft light spilling through the curtains and the gentle noise of the city outside your window.

You stretched beneath the warm sheets, letting out a slow breath.

You didn’t rush to get dressed, you moved gently. You pulled on a simple, comfortable outfit, something loose and soft.

But as you brushed your hair back and glanced at the time, your stomach gave a quiet protest.

You were craving something warm and buttery.

Croissants.

And not the kind you could make yourself, not today. You knew exactly which little bakery to stop by, maybe you'd get a few extras for Viktor.

And maybe, you’d bring one for Jayce too. Not because he deserved it, because you were trying to be above it. 

You wrapped yourself in a light coat and headed out.

The bakery was quiet at this hour, warm and golden with the smell of fresh bread and sugar. You picked out three croissants, two classic, one chocolate, and had them tucked into a little paper bag before heading to the lab.

The streets were calm. Piltover hadn’t fully woken yet, you liked it this way. No crowds, no noise. Just the click of your heels on stone and the soft noise of the pastry bag in your hand.

When you reached the lab, the door creaked open.

It was empty, you blinked.

No Jayce, no Viktor.

You frowned slightly, just a little surprised, you hadn’t expected anyone to be gone. But the early hour explained it, maybe you were just the first one in today.

You stepped inside anyway, letting the door fall shut behind you, you crossed to your usual spot and set the paper bag on the table, pulling out one croissant and sitting down.

You took a bite. Sweet, warm and a little messy.

You licked the butter from your thumb and looked around the lab, letting your eyes wander, and that’s when you noticed it.

Jayce’s laptop. Still there, on the desk. Lid half-closed, screen black.

He hadn’t taken it home?

Your brow furrowed slightly, you’ve borrowed that thing countless times, sometimes with permission, often without. He’d complain, roll his eyes, but he never locked it, never changed the password.

You stared at it a little longer, then you looked away, returning your focus to the croissant.

You dusted the crumbs off your fingers and folded the paper bag, tucking it aside. The lab was still quiet and still empty. 

You glanced toward the desk again.

Jayce’s laptop sat exactly where it had been.

You sighed and stood, walking over without really thinking, maybe you’d poke through his notes. Kill time before Viktor came back.

Maybe you just wanted to feel normal again. Like everything hadn’t cracked down the middle.

As you opened his laptop, you were greeted by the sight of files upon files, no particular order to them.

Scrolling through aimlessly, hoping to stumble upon his notes, your finger suddenly pauses on a peculiar video file tucked away in a folder labeled “ For Y/N”.

With trembling fingers, you double click on the mysterious file, your curiosity piqued despite yourself.

As the video begins to play, you immediately recognize two very familiar faces on the screen, Jayce’s and someone else’s.

Your heart sinks into your stomach as you realize what you’re watching is far from innocent. As the impure footage comes into focus, there he is, Jayce, unmistakably him. Naked. Entwined with Mel, that pretty little thing from the lab who’s been living rent-free in your head lately.

A wave of nausea hits you first, jealousy twists deep in your gut, sharp and sudden. Your breath hitches as the camera zooms in, every detail cutting like glass, capturing intimate moments between him and Mel.

His hands roam over her smooth skin, caressing every curve with clear familiarity and desire. She giggles, arching into his touch, eyes drunk on him, like he was the only thing that mattered.

Chapter Text

The days blurred together after that.

You stayed home, curtains drawn tight, avoiding everything and everyone. The anger, the betrayal, it burned just beneath your skin, sharp and raw. You didn’t go to the lab, didn’t answer the quiet knocks at your door once or twice, didn’t respond to the notes Viktor left behind, gently asking if you were okay.

He must’ve gotten the message eventually, because by midweek, the visits stopped.

And honestly? You were grateful. You needed the quiet, needed the space to calm your rage and start piecing together your next move. Every time you closed your eyes, Jayce’s face flashed behind your eyelids, smiling, smug, that last kiss, and every time, it angered  you.

A week passed before Viktor showed up again.

You were curled up on the couch when the knock came, soft and hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if you’d even answer. For a second, you thought about ignoring it. But something in you, some small piece of loyalty left over from the before, dragged you to your feet.

When you opened the door, Viktor was there, on hand in his pocket, the other on his cane, brow furrowed with quiet concern.

“I thought I should check on you,” he said softly, eyes scanning your face. “It’s been a while.”

You stepped aside, letting him in. He didn’t push, didn’t ask right away, just walked in with that same quiet grace, settling onto the chair across from you like no time had passed at all.

“I was worried,” Viktor admitted after a pause. “You disappeared.”

You sighed, staring at the floor. “I needed time.”

He nodded, waiting.

The silence prolonged again, heavier this time, like he was hoping you’d say more, but he didn’t press. And for now, you weren’t ready to tell him the full truth, not yet.

You just looked at him, meeting his eyes for the first time in days, and said quietly, “I think I need to get out of Piltover for a bit.”

His brows rose slightly. “Out of Piltover?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Clear my head. Get away from, everything.”

Viktor hesitated, his gaze sharp, thoughtful. “Do you want company?”

That was exactly the answer you’d been hoping for.

You smiled, small, but real enough. “Actually, would you show me Zaun? I’ve never been there.”

His eyes softened, and though he didn’t know what you were really asking for, he nodded, no hesitation at all.

“Of course,” he said. “Whenever you’re ready.”

And just like that, the first move of your revenge began to fall into place.

The next few days passed in a blur.

You kept things casual with Viktor, acting like this was just a spontaneous need for a change of scenery, nothing more. He didn’t question it. Maybe he thought you were still fixing old wounds, or just needed distraction. Either way, he was kind, patient, exactly the way you remembered him.

And it made everything easier.

By the end of the week, the plan was set. A few days in Zaun, just the two of you. Viktor offered to show you places he loved, hidden corners of the Undercity, spots that felt like home to him but would be brand new to you.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Viktor asked one evening as you both finalized your plans, his eyes kind but careful. “It’s different down there. Not as polished as Piltover.”

You met his gaze, smiling faintly. “That’s the point.”

He returned the smile, maybe still a little uncertain, but too respectful to force.

And when the morning finally came, you dressed carefully, comfortable but still striking. When Viktor arrived, he looked a little surprised by how radiant you seemed, but he didn’t say anything. He just smiled, and together you stepped into the start of something new.

As you walked side by side, Viktor broke the silence.

“There’s a lot I want to show you,” he said, glancing over at you, unaware of the deeper game you were playing. “I hope it helps you feel lighter.”

You smiled, heart pounding, not from nerves, but from the sharp, cold satisfaction building in your chest.

“Oh, Viktor,” you said softly, letting your fingers brush his arm, “I think this will help more than you know.”

The moment you stepped out of the lift and into Zaun, it hit you.

The air was thicker here, damp, electric, alive with the hum of machinery and the soft crackle of neon lights. It smelled of oil, smoke, and something metallic, but it wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, it felt real. A sharp contrast to Piltover’s polished streets and spotless marble.

You looked around, eyes wide, taking it all in. Towering structures stretched upward in spiked layers, patched together with metal beams, cables, and mismatched panels. Signs in glowing greens and blues flickered in and out, illuminating narrow alleys where people walked past, tough, fast-moving, eyes sharp. You could hear music somewhere in the distance, deep and rhythmic, weaving through the chaotic symphony of voices, machinery, and footsteps.

It was bold, rough around the edges, and completely captivating.

You turned to Viktor, who was watching you closely, maybe amused by the awe on your face. “This is incredible,” you breathed out, hardly able to look away. “Why didn’t I come here sooner?”

Viktor’s lips twitched into a smile. “Most people from Piltover don’t see Zaun like this. They only see what they want to, something broken, something dangerous.”

“They’re idiots,” you muttered, eyes darting to a group of street artists painting a massive mural across an old factory wall, their colors bold and aggressive. “This feels more alive than Piltover ever has.”

Viktor glanced around, his expression softening like he was seeing it through your fresh eyes. “It’s not perfect,” he said, voice thoughtful. “But it’s home.”

You let your gaze roam a little longer, soaking in the shadows and light, the mess and the magic of it all. Your heart thudded in your chest with a strange, fierce excitement.

For the first time in a while, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

“This is going to be good for me,” you said, mostly to yourself, but Viktor heard.

He nodded, a quiet kind of pride shining in his eyes. “I hope so.”

And as the two of you started walking deeper into Zaun’s heart, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself.

This place was the perfect backdrop for everything you had planned.

Viktor led you through twisting alleyways, down narrow side streets until you reached the far edge of Zaun. The buildings here were older, tucked away from the main bustle, and the air felt even heavier with history. When he stopped in front of a modest, weathered door, you knew immediately, it was his.

“This is it,” Viktor said, a little hesitant, almost shy. “My old place. It’s not much.”

You stepped inside and were hit with the scent of old wood and something faintly metallic. The space was small, a single room split between a worn-out couch, a battered table, shelves lined with books and scattered blueprints. Dust floated lazily in the dim shafts of light breaking through the grime-streaked windows. It was cramped, a little messy, but you loved it.

“It’s perfect,” you said immediately, turning in a slow circle. “I love places with stories. This feels like it’s seen a lot.”

Viktor chuckled softly, watching yo. “It’s seen me at my worst, I’ll say that much.”

You set your bag down and rolled up your sleeves, eyeing the dust with determination. “Well, if we’re staying here, it needs a little love. Sit down, Viktor. I’ve got this.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? I don’t mind.”

“Nope,” you cut him off firmly, pointing toward the couch. “You’re resting. I’m not going to let you hurt your leg over a bit of dust. Sit.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, but then his lips twitched in amusement. “You’re very bossy.”

You grinned, grabbing a rag. “Welcome to my charm.”

For the next hour or so, you moved around the room, dusting shelves, wiping down windows, fluffing pillows, sweeping every corner until the place looked brighter, warmer. Viktor watched you from his spot, quietly smiling to himself as you hummed softly, completely focused.

By the time you were done, the room had transformed. You lit a small candle you found tucked in a drawer, the flame flickering gently, and stepped back to admire your work.

“There,” you said, wiping your hands on your jeans. “Feels like a home now.”

Viktor’s eyes met yours, soft and warm. “It always did. But you’ve made it better.”

Jayce's POV.

The second the elevator door slid open, he knew.

Your face was stone-cold, eyes distant, lips pressed into a thin line. But it wasn’t just your expression, it was the way you moved, purposeful, controlled, every step screaming of something simmering just beneath the surface.

Jayce’s stomach dropped.

Shit.

His heart pounded as you walked right past him and Viktor without a word. Viktor’s voice called after you, confused, worried, but you didn’t even flinch, you didn’t stop, you didn’t look back.

Jayce froze, his breath catching in his throat. He saw it, the flicker of betrayal, the unmistakable flash of pain and fury, that cold, sharp look that cut right through him.

She found it.

The realization hit him like a brick to the chest. His plan had worked, but it didn’t feel like a victory. He stood there, heart racing, watching you disappear out the door and down the street, your heels echoing against the stone.

Viktor turned to him, brows furrowed. “What was that? Did something happen?”

Jayce didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

Instead, he clenched his jaw, staring at the empty hall where you’d just been, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

This is what you wanted, he told himself.

But the image of your face, shattered and cold, burning with silent rage, kept playing over and over in his mind. And with every replay, it twisted the knife deeper.

For the rest of the day, he tried to focus, tried to work, but his thoughts kept spiraling back. The memory of your lips, your touch, your voice, all of it collided with that look you gave him before you left.

He went home that night, sat alone in his dark apartment, and stared at the ceiling.

This was the only way, he told himself again.

But deep down, something else was creeping in, a sinking, painful ache he couldn’t shake.

What if that look you gave him was the last time you’d ever look at him like that again?

Every day, Jayce showed up at the lab, eyes flicking to the door even when he told himself not to. And every day, there was nothing, just Viktor’s quiet presence and the dull hum of machines.

But his nights? His nights were full.

Mel had a way of pulling him in, sharp, alluring, and impossible to resist. They were out together almost every evening: dinners in polished halls, secret meetings in her lavish apartment, whispers of ambition between deep kisses. Jayce told himself he was moving forward, finally choosing the woman who made sense.

And the more time he spent with Mel, the more obsessed he became. Her power, her mind, the way she looked at him like he was something important.

It was everything he thought he wanted.

But even when her perfume was still thick on his skin, even when he was tangled up in silk sheets and soft moans, a part of him kept circling back to you.

He’d remember the way your eyes hardened when you left, how your stare cut through him like a blade. The way Viktor, a week later, had said casually, “She’s taking space. Said she needed to forget.”

Forget.

That word festered in Jayce’s head even as he pressed closer to Mel’s warmth. He wanted to forget too. He wanted to scrub you out of his mind, out of his life, but there was this ache he couldn’t shake.

A few days later, Viktor came back to the lab with something new in his voice, almost relieved.

“I saw her,” Viktor said, glancing up from his notes. “She finally opened the door.”

Jayce’s head snapped up before he could stop himself. “And?”

“She’s better, I think.” Viktor smiled a little, thoughtful. “Said she needed space. She’s taking time for herself. We’re going to Zaun for a few days, just to clear her head.”

Zaun.

Jayce’s chest tightened. He forced a smile, nodding like it was no big deal, but his pulse had started to pound.

“She asked you to take her?”

Viktor nodded, not noticing the way Jayce’s jaw clenched. “Yeah. She wants to get away from Piltover for a bit. Said she needed to forget.”

Forget.

That word hit harder than Jayce expected. He sat back in his chair, staring at the ceiling as Viktor went back to work.

He’d gotten what he wanted, hadn’t he? You were finally putting distance between you. You were finally stepping out of his space, but something about the thought of you and Viktor, alone in Zaun, sharing quiet looks, finding comfort in each other, made his throat go dry.

Your POV.

That night, you finally stepped out with Viktor, ready to see Zaun for real this time. The city was alive in a way Piltover never was, rough around the edges but pulsing with energy, violent and unapologetic.

The streets were narrow and crowded, lit by flickering neon signs and the soft glow of overhead lamps, casting long shadows on the cracked pavement. The scent of smoke and oil clung to the air, mingling with bursts of laughter and music spilling from packed alleyways.

You walked close to Viktor, taking it all in, your eyes wide with a mix of awe and adrenaline.

You both moved through the winding streets until he gestured toward a bar tucked into a corner, its sign glowing dimly in the haze, [ The Last Drop ].

He leaned in a little, lowering his voice like he was letting you in on something secret. “This place, it’s famous down here. Run by a man named Silco. Ruthless, some say, smart, dangerous. But the bar? Best drinks in Zaun.”

You raised a brow, intrigued despite yourself. “Ruthless, huh?”

Viktor chuckled, his eyes glinting. “You’ll fit right in.”

You both stepped inside, and immediately the air shifted, darker, thicker. The place was buzzing with low conversation and sharp eyes. Music thrummed through the walls, and the smell of strong liquor hit you like a wave.

Viktor found a booth near the back, and you slid in across from him, your fingers drumming against the scarred table. Something about the place felt alive, like anything could happen.

You caught Viktor watching you, his gaze soft but curious.

“You seem different tonight,” he said carefully.

You smiled, slow and sure, eyes gleaming in the low light. “Maybe I am.”

You leaned back in the booth, a half-empty glass in your hand, warmth creeping through your veins.

But then, you saw her.

Across the bar, leaning with an easy, lethal grace against the counter, was a woman with a sharp jawline, cigarette between her fingers, and a metallic arm that caught the low light like a blade. There was something about her, danger curling off her in waves, her eyes scanning the room like she owned it.

Your gaze lingered a little too long.

Viktor noticed. “Don’t,” he warned lightly, though his voice was serious.

You raised a brow, amused. “What?”

He leaned in just enough for his words to be private. “That’s Sevika.”

The name hit your ears with weight.

“Sevika?” you repeated, glancing back at her.

He nodded, eyes following your line of sight. “Silco’s right hand. Most feared woman in Zaun. Even Piltover knows her name. She’s not someone you want to cross.”

You watched her for another long moment, the cold gleam of her mechanical arm, the sharpness in her eyes. It was magnetic.

“And Silco?” you asked, your tone casual but your mind racing, already piecing things together.

Viktor’s expression darkened a little, his voice low. “The most ruthless man in the Undercity, no one dares challenge him, not even the Council touches Silco.”

You took a slow sip of your drink, your eyes drifting back to Sevika, heart beating a little faster now, not from fear, but from something else.

Ruthless? Untouchable?

Exactly the kind of power you wanted to wrap your hands around.

A smile curled at the corner of your lips as you leaned back in your seat, eyes still flicking to Sevika.

“Interesting,” you murmured.

And the plan forming in your mind? It was just getting started.

Chapter Text

You and Viktor finally left the bar, the buzz of alcohol warm in your veins and the hum of Zaun’s neon glow still flickering behind your eyes. The streets were quiet, just the faint echo of footsteps and the distant noise of machinery as you made your way back to his old house.

“Tonight was interesting,” you said with a small smile, pulling your jacket tighter around you.

Viktor gave a soft chuckle. “I told you Zaun has its own charm. And its own dangers.”

When you got inside, the air was cooler. You yawned, stretching your arms out. “Alright, I’m taking the bed tonight, don’t even argue.”

Viktor raised a brow, already grabbing a blanket from the closet. “I wasn’t planning to.”

“You could’ve at least pretended to fight me for it,” you muttered playfully as you disappeared into the bedroom. He settled onto the couch with a soft grunt, adjusting his leg.

You lay there in the dark, tucked under the covers, the faint scent of dust and old memories lingering around you. For a few minutes, it was peaceful, the kind of quiet where you almost forgot everything flowing in your head.

Then,

PFFFFFFFFTTTT.

You froze.

A long pause.

“…Viktor?” you called out cautiously, biting your lip.

Another beat of silence.

“Yes?”

“Did you just-?”

“I-no,” Viktor said way too quickly.

You blinked into the darkness. “Viktor.”

“It’s a natural body function.”

You fucking lost it.

You burst out laughing so hard your stomach hurt, your giggles echoing off the walls. You rolled over, burying your face in the pillow, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. “Oh my GOOOOD,” you wheezed. “I thought you couldn't fart, I thought you were, like, a genius?”

“I am a genius,” he called from the couch, completely deadpan. “A genius who sometimes farts.”

That only made you laugh harder. “I can’t breathe!!!!!! Viktor, you’re fucking disgusting!”

You heard him chuckle under his breath, adjusting on the couch. “If you laugh too hard, you might fart too.”

“SHUT UP,” you yelled through giggles, wiping your eyes.

The laughter finally died down, the room falling quiet again, except this time it felt lighter, like some heavy weight had lifted. You lay back, still smiling to yourself in the dark.

“Goodnight, genius,” you mumbled.

“Goodnight, brat,” Viktor replied.

And somehow you fell asleep with a smile.

The next morning, soft sunlight filtered through the worn curtains, casting gentle lines across the room. You twitched, groaning a little as you rolled over, still tangled in the warm blankets. For a second, you forgot where you were.

You sat up, rubbing your eyes, and glanced toward the door.

“Good morning,” Viktor’s voice called softly from the other room.

You padded out, still a bit groggy, and found him sitting at the little kitchen table, one leg crossed over the other, a book in his lap. His glasses were slightly crooked, hair a bit messy from sleep, but his eyes were bright and focused.

“Morning,” you mumbled, stretching your arms above your head with a loud yawn. “How long have you been up?”

“A while,” Viktor admitted, marking his page and closing the book with a soft thud. “I didn’t want to wake you. You seemed peaceful.”

You blinked at him. “You were just sitting there? Reading? Like a creep?”

Viktor smirked. “I am not a creep. I am cultured.”

You laughed, making your way to grab a glass of water. “Right. Very cultured. What are you reading anyway?”

He lifted the book slightly so you could see the title. “It’s a bit of everything. Some notes from my old research, some philosophy.” He hesitated, watching you over the rim of his glasses. “I was waiting for you to wake up. Thought maybe we could get breakfast outside today.”

You blinked, surprised by the thoughtfulness. “Oh yeah? That sounds nice, actually.”

Viktor smiled, closing the book fully now. “Zaun may not be as great as Piltover, but there are places with good food. I know a spot, it’s quiet.”

You gave him a teasing look. “No exploding machinery? No, like, poisoned bread?”

“Not unless you order it that way,” Viktor teased right back, pushing himself up carefully, adjusting his leg brace. “Come, get ready. I’m starving.”

A short while later, you were both out in the streets of Zaun again.

“This place is seriously growing on me,” you muttered as you walked alongside Viktor, eyeing the towering metal structures, the twisted alleys, and the graffiti-covered walls. The glow of neon signs and steam vents felt strangely comforting now.

Viktor glanced sideways at you, a soft look in his eyes. “I thought you’d like it. It’s harsh, honest.”

You smiled, brushing your hair out of your face. “Yeah, kinda feels more me than Piltover ever did.”

Viktor hummed thoughtfully. “I always wondered about that. You fit there, but you never belonged.”

You looked at him, surprised by his insight. “Wow, way to psychoanalyze me before breakfast.”

He laughed gently. “I’ve had time to think.”

Finally, you arrived at a small café tucked between two larger buildings, its door slightly crooked, but the smell was incredible, fresh bread, fried eggs, something sweet baking in the back.

“This is it,” Viktor announced proudly.

You stepped inside, the warmth immediately washing over you, and found a quiet corner table. You both sat down, and Viktor leaned in a bit, lowering his voice.

“So did you sleep well? No nightmares? No unexpected noises?” His eyes twinkled with amusement.

You covered your face, groaning. “Oh my God, Viktor, are you seriously bringing that up again?”

He laughed under his breath. “I had to, it was a memorable moment.”

You shook your head, hiding your grin. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

You sighed dramatically. “Fine. I don’t.”

The two of you placed your orders, and as you sat waiting, Viktor’s gaze softened. “I’m glad I came with you,” he said quietly, fingers tapping the table. “It’s good to see you breathing again.”

You looked at him, heart twinging slightly. “Yeah, I think I really needed this.”

The week passed in a blur of neon lights, late-night walks, and endless exploring. Every day you and Viktor went out, discovering hidden corners of Zaun, tiny bookstores tucked between factories, food stalls selling things you couldn’t pronounce but tasted incredible, and quiet places where you’d sit and just be. The tough charm of Zaun worked its way under your skin, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt like yourself.

But soon, the week was up.

You sat on the little couch one evening, legs curled under you, staring at your calendar. The date looked back at you like a cruel reminder, time to head back.

Except you didn’t want to.

Not yet. Not when your heart still burned with unfinished business, not when you hadn’t done what you came here to do.

Viktor sat across from you, packing up a few things, his movements slow and calm.

“Viktor,” you said quietly, breaking the silence. “I’ve been thinking, I don’t want to go back yet.”

He looked up, curious but not surprised. “No?”

You shook your head, toying with the hem of your shirt. “Not yet, I just, I’m not ready. Being here, it’s helping, more than I expected.”

Viktor watched you for a moment, then gave a small, understanding smile. “I thought you might say that.”

You blinked. “You did?”

He nodded, standing up and pulling his keys from his pocket. “I was going to offer anyway, stay as long as you need, I trust you here.”

Your brows shot up, a little surprised by how easy he made it. “Are you sure? I mean, it’s your house”

He waved a hand. “It’s fine. I have my place in Piltover, if you need anything, you know where to find me.”

You stood too, taking the keys from him, fingers brushing briefly. “Thank you Viktor, Really.”

He gave you that small smile again, soft and a little sad. “Take care of yourself. And, don’t burn the place down.”

You laughed quietly, “I’ll try.”

With that, Viktor grabbed his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and after one last glance back at you, stepped out the door, leaving you standing alone in the quiet house.

You locked the door behind him, leaning your forehead against the cool wood, eyes closing.

Now you were really alone.

And the real work was just beginning.

Jayce's POV

The week had flown by faster than Jayce expected.

Between the council meetings, new Hextech advancements, and Mel’s relentless ambition, he barely had time to think, and honestly, that was exactly what he wanted. Every night was like the next, lavish dinners, whispered strategies over wine, her hands pulling him in, her voice like silk as she plotted out the empire they were building together.

By the fifth night, it hit him.

You hadn’t crossed his mind once.

He sat back in Mel’s apartment, shirtless, sipping whiskey as she reviewed papers by the window. The glow of Piltover’s skyline flickered across her golden skin, making her look untouchable.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Mel mused without looking up, sharp eyes scanning the page. “Something wrong?”

Jayce shook his head lazily. “No, just thinking.”

She finally set the papers down, folding her arms across her chest, watching him with that penetrating gaze. “About her?”

He stiffened slightly but didn’t flinch. “I wasn’t, actually.”

Mel tilted her head, considering. “Hmm, that’s new.”

Jayce exhaled, eyes trailing across the room, distant. “She’s gone, Viktor said she’s in Zaun, taking space, it’s like she just disappeared.”

Mel walked over, circling behind him, her fingers dragging lazily across his shoulders. “Didn’t you want that? For her to disappear?”

Jayce’s jaw flexed. “Yeah. I did.”

Mel leaned down, lips brushing his ear, voice low and cool. “Then why do you sound uncertain?”

He set his glass down harder than he meant to. “Because it’s done now, she’s not in my life anymore, it’s like she never existed.”

Mel smiled, slipping into his lap, straddling him. Her eyes gleamed, predatory and pleased. “Good, that chapter’s closed, Jayce. You and I? We have bigger things to focus on.”

Jayce looked at her, his hands resting on her thighs, feeling the weight of her power, her certainty.

He forced a smile, pulling her closer. “Yeah. You’re right.”

Your POV

It was nearly midnight when the itch hit you, the pull, deep in your chest, that wouldn’t let you sit still. You stared at the ceiling for a while, the house felt too quiet, too still, and honestly, you were done waiting around.

You got up, changed into a leather jacket, black jeans and of course your favorite heels, something that made you feel powerful, dangerous even. You stared at yourself in the cracked mirror for a second longer than necessary, smoothing your hands over your hips, eyes hard. There was something sharper in you now, something colder.

You weren’t here to heal anymore.

You stepped out into the Zaun night, the air thick with smoke and metal and a strange kind of electricity. The streets were alive, humming with voices, deals, shadows.

You headed straight for The Last Drop.

The place was just as you remembered, loud, packed, the air hot with sweat and danger. You pushed through the crowd, eyes sharp, scanning every corner. For a second, you worried she might not be there, but then, like a predator stepping into the light, you saw her.

Sevika.

Leaning against the bar, one metallic arm shinning under the low lights, cigarette between her fingers, face hard. She was talking to someone, her tone low and sharp, and even from across the room, you could feel the weight of her presence. People gave her space. Respected it, or feared it.

Your heart kicked up, but you didn’t let it show.

You grabbed a drink first, just to buy yourself a second to think. Standing near the edge of the bar, you kept your eyes on her, watching the way she moved, how the room seemed to revolve around her.

She was everything Jayce wasn’t, unapologetic, tough, real.

And that’s exactly why you were here.

Finally, gathering every ounce of nerve, you stepped closer, weaving your way to her side of the bar. She clocked you immediately, of course she did, but didn’t say a word, just flicked her eyes over you once, dismissive.

You cleared your throat, leaning on the bar casually, even though your pulse was raging.

“Sevika, right?”

She exhaled smoke, barely looking at you. “What’s it to you?”

God, her voice was low, raspy, dangerous. It sent a little chill down your spine.

“I’ve heard things,” you said smoothly, holding her gaze. “About you. About Silco. About power.”

That got her attention. Her eyes narrowed, sharp and curious now, flicking over you like she was sizing you up for something. “You don’t look like you’re from around here.”

“I’m not.”

“And yet here you are.”

You sipped your drink, letting the silence stretch for a moment, playing it cool. “I’m looking for something. Or maybe, someone.”

Sevika smirked, finally turning her full attention to you. “Sweetheart, if you don’t know what you’re looking for, you’re in the wrong bar.”

You tilted your head, feeling the weight of her words, but not backing down. “I know exactly what I’m looking for. I just don’t know yet if you’re the one who can give it to me.”

That made her laugh. She took another drag of her cigarette, eyes glittering with interest now. “You’ve got balls, I’ll give you that. So tell me, what is it you want?”

You stared at her, heart pounding, but your voice came out cold and clear.

“Revenge.”

She studied you for a long moment, silent, calculating. And then, slowly, that smirk deepened, something dark flashing in her eyes.

“Well, sweetheart,” Sevika utters, her voice a mixture of amusement and challenge, “if it’s revenge you want, you’ve come to the right place. But you’re gonna have to prove you're more than just words.”

You don’t hesitate. You can feel the weight of the moment pulling you in.

“I can prove it,” you say, your voice steady. “I don’t need to be some fucking innocent bystander anymore, I’ve learned how to fight, I’ve learned how to get what I want. And right now, what I want is to make someone feel the kind of pain I’ve felt.”

Sevika’s eyes flicker with something dangerous, approval, maybe. “Is that so? Well, you’ve got the right attitude for Zaun, I’ll give you that. But it’s not just about throwing punches or making threats. You need to know how to play the game here. Power isn’t just in strength; it’s in knowing who you can break, who you can manipulate, and when to strike.”

You nod slowly, understanding exactly what she’s saying, the dark allure of it all tugging at something deep inside you. This was your chance to take control, to be the one who calls the shots. And if anyone understood how to take power, it was Sevika.

“I’m not here to play games,” you say, your tone darkening with a touch of cold determination. “I’m here to make someone regret ever crossing me.”

Her lips curl into a wicked smile. “That’s the spirit.”

Sevika leans in closer, her voice lowering, more intimate now. “Silco can help you. But it comes at a price. If you’re really serious about this, if you’re ready to dive into this world, you’ll need to pay. Loyalty, trust, everything. Silco doesn’t just give power out for free, sweetheart.”

You tilt your head, considering her words carefully. You don’t know much about Silco, only what you’ve heard from Viktor. But you’ve already crossed too many lines to turn back now, if there’s a way to get the revenge you need, this is it.

“I’m ready,” you say, a fierce determination creeping into your voice. “I’ve been ready.”

Sevika studies you for a moment longer, before she nods slowly. “Alright then. We’ll take a walk through Silco’s world. But know this, once you step into it, there’s no going back.”

With that, Sevika stands up and motions for you to follow her. You trail behind her as she leads you through the crowded bar and out into the smoke-filled streets of Zaun.

As you walk, Sevika gives you a brief overview of Silco’s operations, how he controls everything from the underbelly of Zaun to the trade routes that cross into Piltover. She tells you how he’s carved out his territory with an iron fist, and how he keeps it all running with brutal order. He’s feared, respected, and dangerous, exactly the kind of man you need in your corner.

Eventually, you reach a heavily guarded building, the atmosphere thick. This, you realize, is Silco’s headquarters.

Sevika glances at you with a smirk. “Welcome to Silco’s world, sweetheart. Let’s see if you’ve got what it takes to survive in it.”

The cold, industrial air of the headquarters hit you as you stepped inside, but something felt wrong. The atmosphere was tense, too quiet for a place as notorious as Silco’s domain.

Sevika’s usual confident aura paused, and she glanced at you quickly before motioning for you to follow. You moved deeper into the dimly lit space, the walls pulsating with the hum of machinery, and then, suddenly, it happened.

A sharp sting on the back of your neck. You barely had time to react before the world tilted. The room spun, your vision blurred, and your legs buckled beneath you as darkness rushed in.

By the time you regained consciousness, the reality of the situation hit you hard. Your arms were pulled painfully above your head, and you could feel the rough, cold metal of chains biting into your wrists. Panic shot through you, your heart pounding as you tried to move, only to realize that your body was bound tight, unable to break free.

Your mind raced, the remnants of the drug that had knocked you out clouding your thoughts. But it didn’t take long before you heard the low sound of footsteps approaching, slow and deliberate.

The figure that emerged from the shadows was unmistakable. It was him, Silco.

He walked into the dim light, his presence filling the room with an almost suffocating weight. His one good eye locked onto you with an intensity that could freeze anyone in place, a burning intensity that spoke of power, control, and a dangerous kind of pleasure. His scarred visage gave him a frightening edge, yet there was something magnetic about him, something you couldn’t quite place.

He stopped in front of you, his head tilting slightly as he examined you, the faintest of smirks tugging at the corner of his lips. His voice was soft but edged with menace.

“Well, well,” he purred, his tone almost mocking. “I must admit, I wasn’t expecting such enthusiasm from you. But I suppose we all have our little delusions of glory.”

His eye flickered over your body, assessing, weighing, before he stepped closer, the sound of his boots on the concrete floor echoing in your ears. “You really thought you could just waltz into my world and take what you wanted, didn't you?”

You glared at him, adrenaline rushing through your veins, but the chains kept you grounded. “What’s this, Silco? Some kind of power trip? Do you really think you can intimidate me?”

He chuckled, low and dark, and leaned in closer, his face inches from yours. The scent of smoke and something darker lingered around him, a toxic allure you couldn’t shake. “Intimidation?” he repeated, amusement lacing his voice. “No, princess, this is a lesson. A lesson about who controls this world, and right now, you’re far from in control.”

You struggled against the chains, but they only tightened, reminding you that, at this moment, you were completely at his mercy.

His hand reached out slowly, brushing against your cheek in a gesture that was strangely gentle for someone so ruthless. “But don’t worry,” he murmured, his voice dripping with a mix of mockery and something darker, more dangerous. “You’re going to learn. You’re going to learn what it really means to survive in Zaun.”

You refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break. Instead, you looked him in the eye and gritted your teeth. “You think you’ve got me? You think this is going to make me bend to your will?”

Silco’s smirk widened, as if he enjoyed the challenge. He stepped back, his gaze never leaving you. “Oh, I’m not expecting you to bend. But I will make you understand.”

He walked around you slowly, inspecting you. The tension in the room was thick, each step he took making the air grow heavier, more oppressive. “You came here looking for revenge,” he said, his voice a low murmur. “But revenge isn’t always as sweet as you think. Sometimes, it’s just a slow burn. A fire that consumes everything in its path. It doesn’t matter if it’s you, or the ones you thought you could trust.”

Your heart skipped a beat as he mentioned trust, as if the words had a personal meaning to him. It felt like he knew you were here because of what Jayce had done to you. And if that was the case, which it obviously isn't, he knew exactly how to play this game.

Silco moved closer again, standing right in front of you now, his presence overwhelming. His eyes flicked to your wrists, where the chains held you captive, then back to your face, as if savoring the moment. “Tell me,” he said, his voice low and dangerous, “how far are you willing to go? To get what you want. How much pain can you endure, and how much are you willing to inflict?”

You swallowed hard, your throat dry. The question hung in the air, the answer clear in your mind, but you weren't about to give him the satisfaction of hearing it from you.

Silco leaned in even closer, so close you could feel the heat of his breath against your skin. “Think carefully,” he whispered, his voice almost intimate now. “Your survival in this world depends on how much you’re willing to sacrifice. And if you want my help, you’ll have to prove you have what it takes.”

Your pulse raced as the weight of his words sank in. You were caught in his web now, and there was no way out but forward. This was it, the moment that would decide everything. You were in deep shit, and there was no turning back.

And somehow, you had a feeling that’s exactly what he wanted.

Chapter Text

The hours that passed after Silco left you chained felt endless, the dim light barely changed, making it impossible to tell if it was night or day. Your muscles ached from being suspended so long, your wrists hurt from the rough bite of the chains. But you refused to let yourself fall apart. No tears, no begging, not even a word.

You wouldn’t give them that.

When the door finally creaked open again, the sharp sound echoed through the room like a gunshot. You forced yourself to lift your head, your eyes narrowing against the harsh contrast of light spilling in.

Silco stepped in first, composed, hard to read. His gaze swept over you, sharp and judging. There was no smile this time, no taunting smirk, just cold calculation.

Behind him, Sevika followed, her eyes hard and sharp as steel. She stood with her arms crossed, her metallic hand glinting, her stare distant but watchful.

Silco walked forward, boots echoing off the floor. He stopped in front of you, tilting his head slightly. His voice was cool, detached, but there was something simmering underneath, something predatory.

“Well,” he spoke, “you’re still breathing, that’s a start.”

You met his gaze, swallowing hard, but said nothing. You’d already learned the power of silence.

He circled you once, slow and deliberate, Sevika’s eyes following every move. Finally, he came to a stop behind you, and you felt his presence at your back, heavy, suffocating.

“You say you want revenge,” Silco mused, voice low and smooth. “You say you’re willing to do whatever it takes.” He stepped into your line of sight again, eyeing you with thinly veiled doubt. “But words are cheap. Zaun doesn’t run on empty promises.”

He gestured toward Sevika, who pushed off the wall and strode forward, tossing something at your feet. A thick, folded piece of paper.

Your eyes flicked down.

“This,” Silco said, “is your first test. A simple job, really, if you’re cut out for this world.”

He crouched to your level, his good eye boring into yours, deadly serious now.

“There’s a man, rather a rat who’s been feeding the enforcers information about our shipments. You’ll find his location and what needs to be done in that file.” His lips curled slightly, that dark edge creeping back. “He’s weak, he thought crossing me wouldn’t cost him.”

Silco rose to his full height, voice cold. “Your task is simple, eliminate him, no loose ends, no mistakes. Bring me proof it’s done.”

Sevika stepped closer, her gaze flickering with something sharp and almost amused. “If you’re as tough as you act, shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

You swallowed, eyes fixed on the file at your feet. The weight of what they were asking slammed into you, this wasn’t just intimidation. This was blood, and it was the price of staying alive.

Silco’s tone hardened. “If you fail, well.” He gave a slow, humorless smile. “Let’s just say you won’t have to see the light of day anymore.”

He turned toward the door, Sevika close behind him. But just before stepping out, he paused, glancing back over his shoulder with a final warning.

“You have 24 hours.”

And with that, the door slammed shut, locking you back into the silence, except now, the chains clattered down around you, Sevika having tossed the key onto the floor before she left.

You were free. But the weight of what was ahead pressed down on you heavier than any chain.

You knelt, shaking fingers unfolding the file. Inside, a name, a location deep in the industrial district, and a grainy photo of a man who looked pitifully small and unaware of what was coming for him.

You stared at his face, your jaw clenching.

This was it, do or die.

You stood, stiff and sore, and you shoved the file into your jacket pocket, one deep breath, then another.

If this was the game, you were going to play it.

And you were going to win.

The moment you stepped out of that building, something flipped inside you. No hesitation, no second-guessing. It was like the adrenaline burned away every shred of doubt, this wasn’t about thinking anymore, this was pure instinct, sharpened by rage and betrayal.

You didn’t look for a weapon, you didn’t need one.

You were the weapon.

The streets of Zaun blurred past as you moved, fast and focused, your eyes locked on the path ahead. The industrial district was a maze of smoke and metal, steam vents hissing as you slipped through the shadows. Every step you took felt heavier, you weren't scared.

You found the place easily enough, a run-down apartment above a mechanic’s workshop, the kind of place no one would look twice at.

You climbed the creaky metal stairs, keeping your breath steady, your footsteps silent. Heart pounding, but your hands were steady, your mind clear.

When you reached the door, you didn’t knock.

You kicked it open with brutal force, breaking the weak lock, storming inside, that impact sent the man scrambling out of his chair, eyes wide, mouth open mid-curse.

Too late.

You were on him in seconds, fists flying, rage crashing over you. He tried to fight back, but you were faster, stronger and more desperate.

His face was a blur, his cries lost in the sound of blood rushing through your ears. He clawed at you, but you didn’t stop.

By the time you finally pulled back, gasping for breath, your knuckles were raw and bloody, and he was slumped against the wall, barely breathing, eyes glassy with fear and pain.

You grabbed him by the collar, dragging his weak body up to meet your gaze. “This is what crossing the wrong people gets you.”

He whimpered something, begging, maybe, but you weren’t listening.

One final, brutal punch, and it was over.

You killed the motherfucker infront of you.

You stepped back, chest heaving, staring down at him, you needed proof.

You tore a strip from his bloodied shirt, something that would make it clear you’d done the job, and stuffed it into your pocket. Then, without another look, you turned on your heel and walked out.

You didn’t even feel the ache in your knuckles as you made your way back through Zaun, walking through the streets like you owned them now. The fear, the pain, the weakness, they were all gone.

By the time you reached Silco’s headquarters again, the adrenaline was still buzzing under your skin. You pushed the door open without knocking, stepping inside like you belonged there.

Sevika was waiting by the wall, arms crossed, her eyes narrowing slightly as she clocked the blood on your hands. But she said nothing, just watched.

And then Silco emerged from the shadows, that same cold look on his face. He moved closer, eye flicking to the fabric you pulled from your pocket and held out to him.

For a moment, the room was silent.

Then Silco’s lips curved into an approving smile.

“Well,” he murmured, taking the bloodied cloth from you, eyes gleaming with something dangerous, “it seems you’re full of surprises after all.”

You didn’t smile, you didn’t say a word.

You’d passed the test, and now you were in.

Silco’s fingers toyed with the strip of bloodstained fabric, eyes flicking between it and you. The room was silent, Sevika watching from her corner.

“I didn’t expect you to survive,” he admitted, his voice low. “But here you are.”

He studied your bruised knuckles, the set of your jaw, the fire in your eyes that hadn’t dimmed, not even a little. “That,” he said quietly, “is what Zaun needs.”

He turned his back to you then, pacing a few steps away. “People like you, they don’t come around often. Broken, angry, desperate, but menacing because of it. You’re not just looking for revenge anymore. You want power, control.”

You stayed silent, watching him closely.

Silco looked over his shoulder, that signature smirk tugging at his scarred lips. “I’m offering you a place here, at my side. I want you to learn, to understand how we build something lasting out of the ashes.”

He turned fully toward you again, stepping close enough that you could feel the weight of his words pressing down. “You’ll train with Sevika, you’ll learn the business, information, resistance , loyalty, the real currency of power, you’ll have the tools to destroy whoever crosses you.”

His eyes burning into yours. “And in return? You’re mine, my soldier, my shadow. You serve Zaun and me completely.”

Silco extended his hand, palm open, an offer. “You wanted purpose, power, revenge. Now’s your chance, take it.”

Your breath caught, heart pounding with something you couldn’t quite name, was it fear, hunger or freedom. The whole world seemed to narrow down to that hand, and the question hanging in the air.

Were you ready to step into the fire and become someone unrecognizable?

You stepped forward, your eyes locked on his.

You placed your hand firmly in his, gripping tight. “I’m in.”

Silco’s fingers curled around yours with a deliberate strength, sealing the pact. “Good,” he said softly, “you’ve made the right choice.”

Sevika, still leaning in the shadows, watched you both, that familiar smirk tugging at her lips. There was no doubt now, you’d proven yourself, and you were no longer an outsider.

Silco let go of your hand slowly, eyes never leaving yours. “This is just the beginning,” he murmured. “From now on, you’re one of us. And soon, Zaun will know your name.”

The moment you stepped out of Silco’s headquarters with Sevika, the weight of the past two days slammed into you all at once. The adrenaline was fading, leaving behind exhaustion, hunger torturing your insides, and the nasty feeling of sweat, dirt, and stress clinging to your skin.

Sevika glanced at you out of the corner of her eye as you both walked through the dim streets of Zaun. “You look like hell,” she muttered, lighting a cigarette like it was second nature.

You snorted, pushing damp hair out of your face. “Yeah, well I feel like hell too.”

She smirked around the cigarette. “You earned it, though, not bad for your first job.”

You didn’t bother replying, too focused on the ache settling into your bones. All you wanted right now was food, a long, hot shower, and about twelve hours of sleep. You knew Zaun would never let you relax for too long, but tonight you were claiming whatever little peace you could steal.

“Need anything else?” Sevika asked, stopping at your door.

You shook your head “Nah. I’m good. Thanks for whatever that was.”

Her smirk deepened, a flicker of something like respect in her eyes. “Get some rest, you’re gonna need it.”

You watched her disappear into the streets, then fumbled with your keys. The second you stepped inside, you didn’t even pause, you tossed your jacket on the floor, kicked off your heeled boots, and went straight for the kitchen.

There wasn’t much to work with, but you found something to eat, tearing through it like a starved animal. When the worst of the hunger was dulled, you practically crawled to the bathroom, peeling your filthy clothes off piece by piece.

The water hit you like salvation.

Steam filled the room, washing away the sweat, the blood, the weight of everything. You stood there for a long time, letting it all drain off you, eyes closed.

When you finally stepped out, wrapped in a towel, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, wet hair clinging to your face, eyes sharp and empty, a different kind of fire flickering there now.

Viktor's POV.

The cable car ride back to Piltover was quiet, but Viktor’s mind was anything but.

He sat by the window, fingers tapping against his cane, the lights of Zaun fading into the distance.

You wanted to stay.

The words kept echoing in his head: 'Being here, it’s helping, more than I expected.'

He smiled to himself, there was something about the way you’d said it, hesitant but honest. Viktor had known for a while now that you were guarded, a bit difficult to read. But this past week had chipped away at that. He’d seen glimpses of the real you, the quiet vulnerability beneath all that strength.

And despite everything, you trusted him. Enough to stay in his home, enough to let your walls down, even just a little.

He shifted in his seat, resting his head back against the cable car’s cool window. The memories came easily now, the two of you walking through the undercity streets, the late nights sitting in that cramped kitchen, talking about everything and nothing. The way your laugh had sounded when you finally let yourself relax.

That night you’d fallen asleep on his bed, curled up with a blanket. He remembered pausing in the doorway, just watching you for a moment longer than he should have, something tight and unspoken settling in his chest.

And now, you were there, still there in his space, making it yours in a way no one else ever had.

The thought filled him with a kind of joy, tied with something he didn’t want to name yet. He trusted you there, that was the truth of it. But it was more than trust, it was hope. The hope that maybe this connection between you wasn’t just temporary. That maybe, for once, things were moving in a direction that felt right.

He let out a slow breath as the cable car rattled into Piltover, the towering skyline coming into view.

He walked into the lab, expecting to find Jayce working as usual. Instead, Jayce was seated at his desk, staring at a piece of paper, his face tense.

“Jayce...” Viktor started, but his voice trailed off. He wasn’t sure what to say.

Jayce’s voice broke the silence, "I know what you’re going to say, Viktor. Don’t."

Viktor frowned, eyes narrowing. He could sense something off about Jayce’s demeanor, something he hadn’t seen before.

“I didn’t ask for it to happen this way,” Jayce continued, finally lifting his gaze to meet Viktor’s. “I didn’t want to hurt her, but I don’t think she’ll ever understand. I don’t think she’ll ever forgive me.”

“Why are you pushing her away, Jayce? You knew what you were doing.” Viktor spoke.

Jayce’s expression twisted for a moment. "It’s complicated, but I can’t commit to Mel if she’s still around. I’ve tried to get away, but she keeps pulling me back, if she stays, I’ll never be able to move forward, not with Mel, not with anything."

Viktor narrowed his eyes, suspicious. "And leaving the tape? Was that your idea of moving forward?"

He stayed quiet for a moment, before finally speaking, “I knew it was too far. But it was the only way. I thought if she found it, she’d leave me alone. She’d see how things really are, and we could both move on.”

Viktor’s gaze hardened, his disappointment now turning to something colder. He stepped closer to Jayce, “I thought you had more respect for her than that.”

Jayce flinched, his shoulders slumping in guilt, but he didn’t speak.

Viktor took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. The thought of you, the way you must have felt was tearing him apart. “You don’t understand, Jayce. She’s moved on now after everything, after all the pain you caused, she’s gone. The week we spent together was joyful. It was everything I had hoped for.”

Jayce finally met Viktor’s eyes, the full weight of his mistake hitting him. He had lost you. And now, Viktor was the one who was going to be there for you, not him.

Viktor’s voice was quieter now, full of emotion he couldn’t quite put a finger on. "I never wanted it to end this way, Jayce. I never thought I’d be the one to help her heal, but I will. I’ll make sure she’s alright. I’ll be there for her, even if you’re not."

Jayce remained silent, the truth of Viktor's words sinking in.

His gaze then shifted, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. After a long pause, he spoke, “is she still in Zaun?”

"Yes," Viktor replied, "she still needs time to figure things out on her own." He paused for a moment, looking down at the floor before continuing, his voice calm despite the emotions stirring within him. "She’s trying to find herself again, and she deserves that time."

Your POV.

The calm morning light filtered softly through the windows the small, dimly lit room. The chill in the air sent a shiver through you as you pulled on your jacket, the boots, heavy but steady, clicked softly on the floor as you stood.

It had been a quiet start to the day, you had stepped out briefly to grab some bread from the local shop. You moved quickly through the crowd, your mind elsewhere. After a quick breakfast, you took the time to prepare yourself, your jacket now fitting, your boots giving you an edge, and the makeup you applied not just to look presentable but to put on a mask. It wasn’t about vanity anymore, it was about surviving.

The metallic smell of Zaun’s undercity hung in the air as you followed Silco through the dimly lit streets, the sound of distant machinery and the occasional shout of a street vendor filling the silence. You had barely slept the night before, today would mark your second real test as part of Silco’s operations.

“Stay close,” Silco’s voice was low. He glanced over his shoulder,“Zaun is full of allies who would gladly turn on you if they think it serves their interests, you’ll need to learn quickly who you can trust.”

You nodded, swallowing your nerves. You had come here for revenge, but the reality of your new life was beginning to sink in. Silco’s world was dark, twisted, and full of betrayal, you had to keep your wits about you if you were going to survive.

You reached an old building on the outskirts of Zaun’s heart, Silco led you inside, and the air was thick with the smell of chemicals and sweat. The walls were covered in graffiti, and in the corner of the room, a group of men and women sat, some sharpening blades, others cleaning guns.

“Welcome to my world,” Silco said, his tone more playful than serious. He gestured to the group. “These are my most trusted people, though that doesn’t mean they’ll trust you.”

Your gaze flickered over the group, but you immediately found your attention pulled to one person, Sevika.

“Sevika is the only one I trust completely,” he said, “she runs things around here, and if you're going to make it, you’ll need to learn from her. Today, though, I’ll send the two of you on a mission together.”

Your heart skipped a beat. A mission with Sevika? That was a test, no doubt. If you could impress her, it would mean more than just a passing grade in Silco’s eyes. It would mean gaining respect.

You turned to Sevika, who was still watching you with those eyes.

“I trust you won’t let me down,” Silco continued, “this mission is crucial. We’ve been having trouble with a rival group controlling a nearby supply route. You’ll take care of it. Don’t come back empty-handed.”

Sevika stood slowly, “let’s go,” she said simply.

You nodded, following her out of the building. As you and Sevika made your way to the rival group’s territory, you couldn’t help but feel the tension between you both. She was a woman of few words, but her actions spoke volumes. Every step she took seemed to reverberate with authority, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that she was watching you more closely than you realized.

“So, what’s the plan?” you asked, trying to break the silence as you moved through the alleyways.

Sevika glanced at you, her gaze sharp. “We make them understand who runs Zaun.” Her voice was low, “we don’t negotiate, we show them what happens when you cross Silco.”

As you neared the rival group’s hideout, Sevika motioned for you to stay close, the place looked abandoned, but you knew better than to trust appearances in Zaun.

“Get ready,” Sevika muttered, she pulled a blade from her belt, “we move fast.”

You followed her lead, when you finally reached the entrance, Sevika motioned for you to stop. She scanned the surroundings before turning back to you.

“We’ll strike first,” she said, “once we make our move, there’s no turning back. Are you ready?”

Chapter Text

You crouched beside Sevika, right outside the hideout, she glanced at you.

“Three inside, maybe four,” she muttered. “You take the left. Stay low, keep your head. Got it?”

You nodded, gripping the weapon she’d handed you earlier. “Got it.”

Sevika’s lips twitched into a smirk, “don’t freeze.”

“Wasn’t planning to,” you shot back.

She didn’t wait, Sevika kicked the door open hard, “Silco’s regards!” she barked.

One of the men inside swore loudly, scrambling for his gun.

“Shiiiiit!”

You went left like Sevika said, firing before you could even think. The shot clipped one of the men’s shoulders, sending him crashing into a table with a yell.

“Fuck??????who the hell is-”

“Shut it!” Sevika growled, swinging her blade at another, slamming him against the wall.

The room was messy, you caught your breath, pointing your gun at the guy you hit. He was grabbing his shoulder, eyes wide with panic.

“Get the fuck up” you snapped.

He didn’t move fast enough, Sevika grabbed him by the collar and shoved him against the wall. “Where’s your boss?”

The guy shook his head frantically. “H-he’s not here, I swear-”

“Wrong answer,” Sevika spat, pressing the blade to his throat.

“Wait, wait, wait!! Warehouse! Two blocks east!” he blurted, voice shaking. “We’re just here to guard the stash, I swear!”

Sevika looked at you, “believe him?”

You swallowed, staring at the guy’s terrified face, “for now.”

Sevika chuckled, “fair enough.”

“Amateurs,” she muttered. She turned to you, jerking her chin toward the containers. “Search it, let’s see if they’re hiding anything worth our time.”

You moved quickly, prying open a container, inside, vials of shimmer glinted under the dim lights.

“Jackpot,” you muttered. “What do we do with it?”

Sevika gave a low laugh, “we take it, of course.”

As you worked together to haul out the container, one of the men on the floor groaned, starting to push himself up.

“Stay down,” you spoke, pressing your foot to his back.

Sevika leaned in close to him, “tell your boss, this is what happens when you cross Silco. And next time? You won’t be breathing when we’re done.”

The guy whimpered, nodding desperately.

Sevika stood, motioning to you, “let’s move, we’ve made enough noise.”

Outside, the cold air hit your face like a slap, you both carried what you could, fast and focused.

“You kept your head,” Sevika said suddenly as you turned down an alley.

You glanced at her, breathing hard. “You sound surprised.”

She smirked, eyes gleaming in the dark. “Most people freeze, you didn’t.”

“Didn’t have a choice.”

“That’s the right answer.” She nodded once, approving. “You’ve got guts, we’ll see if that holds.”

You both walked in silence for a moment, the sounds of Zaun creeping back in around you.

“You think they’ll strike back?” you asked.

“They’ll try. But we hit hard tonight. It’ll make them think twice.”

You couldn’t help but ask, “and Silco? What’s he gonna say?”

A grin tugged at her mouth. “He’ll be pleased. Trust me.”

You and Sevika went into Silco’s office, he was behind his desk, swirling a glass of whiskey, eyes lifting lazily as you entered.

“Well?” he drawled, gaze flicking between you two.

Sevika dropped a small bag onto his desk with a loud thud, vials of shimmer rattled inside. “Their stash, took out a few of their men, scared the rest. They won’t forget.”

Silco’s eyes glinted with satisfaction. He glanced at you. “And her?”

Sevika crossed her arms. “Didn’t flinch, she handled herself.”

Silco raised a brow, finally setting down his drink. He stood, walking slowly around the desk until he was in front of you.

“You’ve proven useful faster than I expected,” he said, voice smooth but edged. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

You met his gaze, steady. “I did what I had to.”

He chuckled softly, "looks like you’re learning.”

You felt a flicker of pride, but stayed guarded, “what’s next?”

Silco exchanged a look with Sevika, then turned back to you, serious now. “Power in Zaun isn’t just about fear, it’s about loyalty, control. And the message you delivered tonight?” He tapped the bag of shimmer. “That was just the beginning.”

He stepped closer, “I brought you in because I saw potential, but potential means nothing if you can’t keep proving it.”

“I’m not here to play games,” you said quietly. “I want results.”

Silco smiled coldly, “and you’ll get them, but be careful what you wish for, in this world, results come with blood.”

Sevika smirked from the corner. “She can handle it.”

Silco studied you a moment longer, then nodded, almost approving. “Get some rest. Things are about to get busy.”

You turned to leave, but his voice stopped you at the door.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Silco added, “that fire in you? Don’t let it burn out too fast.”

You chuckled, "wasn't planning on it."

You sat at the small desk in your room, a single flickering candle casting shadows across the paper. The sounds of Zaun drifted in through the window, distant shouting, machinery grinding, the endless noise of a city that never really slept.

Your pen hovered above the paper for a long time before you finally began to write.

'Viktor,

I hope you're doing well. I wanted to let you know I’m safe, and honestly, happier than I’ve been in a long time. Zaun is different, but it’s growing on me. Being here was the best decision I could have made. I’ve found a simple job at a bar to keep busy, and I’ve made a few friends. It feels good to be surrounded by people who don’t expect anything from me.

I hope things are good on your side. Please don’t worry about me, I’m really okay. I’ll write again soon.

Take care of yourself,

Y/N'

You stared at the words for a while, your fingers tightening on the pen. Lies, every single line, but necessary ones.

Folding the letter, you slipped it into an envelope and sealed it shut, writing Viktor’s name across the front. You knew exactly where to send it discreetly, through a network of Zaun runners who handled mail between the Undercity and Piltover.

It wasn’t long before you handed it off and watched the courier disappear into the streets.

As you stood there, arms crossed tightly over your chest, it felt wrong to lie to Viktor, but part of you told yourself it was mercy, he didn’t need to know what you were really involved in, not yet.

You turned away from the courier and made your way back home, you took off your jacket, tossed it onto the chair, and headed straight to the tiny kitchen. You heated up some leftover bread and soup, eating in silence while your mind wandered.

When you finished, you rinsed your bowl, set it aside, and moved to the bed. You lay down, staring at the cracked ceiling, your body heavy with exhaustion.

Viktor's POV.

Viktor sat alone in the lab, hunched over his workbench, but tonight his mind wasn’t on the blueprints in front of him. His eyes were tired, unfocused, and his thoughts kept circling back to you. Ever since you’d left, there’d been an ache, an empty space he couldn’t seem to fill.

A knock at the door broke through his daze, he frowned, rising to answer it.

A courier stood there, holding out an envelope. “For Viktor,” the boy said, almost bored, before turning and disappearing down the hallway.

Viktor’s heart skipped. His name, your handwriting.

He closed the door quickly, clutching the letter in both hands as he returned to his desk. For a moment, he just stared at it, his fingers tracing his name, afraid to open it, afraid of what it might say.

But curiosity won.

He unfolded the paper slowly, eyes scanning each word like they might vanish if he blinked.

Viktor’s eyes lingered on the last line, his brow creasing, he read it again, and again.

Something about it didn’t sit right.

“Happy?” he whispered to himself, shaking his head slightly. “A bar job? Friends?”

It sounded too simple, too clean. He knew you better than that, he knew your heart, your intensity. No, something else was happening, you were hiding it.

He set the letter down carefully, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his eyes, his chest ached with both relief and unease.

“At least you’re alive,” he murmured, his voice almost breaking.

He stared out the window at the city lights, wondering where you were at that very moment, hoping you were safe, but knowing in his gut that this wasn’t the end of the story.

The next morning, Viktor was already in the lab, head bent over his work, the letter from you lay folded neatly by his side, untouched since last night.

The door swung open, and Jayce walked in.

“Morning,” Viktor said without looking up.

“Morning,” Jayce replied, setting his things down. He glanced at Viktor, narrowing his eyes slightly. “You look off, something happened?”

Viktor hesitated, then finally looked up. “She wrote to me.”

Jayce froze. His face drained of color, the blood visibly leaving his cheeks. “She, what?”

“She sent me a letter,” Viktor confirmed, his voice careful, watching Jayce’s reaction. “I got it last night.”

Jayce stepped closer, “what did she say?” His voice was low, almost desperate.

Without a word, Viktor picked up the letter and handed it over.

Jayce took it quickly, unfolding it like it might break apart in his hands. His eyes scanned the lines, moving fast at first, then slowing down, his jaw clenched.

“She says she’s happy,” Viktor said quietly. “She says Zaun is growing on her, she’s working at a bar, made some friends.”

Jayce stared at the paper for a moment longer, then set it down on the table, almost too carefully.

“She’s happy,” he repeated, his voice hollow.

Viktor watched him closely. “Yes. Happier than she’s been in a long time, according to her.”

Jayce swallowed hard. There was a flicker of sadness that passed through his eyes, a kind of mourning, but then, to Viktor’s surprise, a subtle relief softened his expression.

“Well that’s good,” Jayce said, forcing out a shaky breath. “That’s, what we wanted, right? For her to move on.”

Viktor didn’t answer right away, his eyes narrowing just a bit. “Is that really what you wanted?”

Jayce didn’t meet his gaze. He just nodded, backing away from the table, staring down at the letter as if it might burn a hole through the wood.

“Yeah,” he said, almost convincing himself. “That’s all I ever wanted.”

Your POV.

Weeks had passed since you sent the letter to Viktor life in Zaun had shifted quickly, and so had you.

Mission after mission blurred together, deliveries, silent threats, enforcing Silco’s will with precision. Word spread fast, people in Zaun had started to recognize you, not just as someone working for Silco, but as someone to fear, whispers followed you wherever you went.

“She’s one of his now.”

“Did you see the look in her eyes?”

One night, after a long raid that left your boots stained with mud, you returned to the headquarters, Sevika leaning casually against the doorway, arms crossed, that always present cigar burning between her fingers.

“Back already?” she smirked, eyeing you. “Didn’t think you had it in you to keep up with me, but here you are.”

You dropped your bag and rolled your eyes. “Please, Sevika. You were the one stumbling back there.”

She laughed, “careful, keep talking like that and I might actually start to like you.”

You grinned, wiping sweat from your brow. Strange, how this had started to feel familiar, even comfortable.

Inside, Silco sat at his usual spot, eyes flicking up when you entered, his gaze lingered on you longer than before.

“You’ve proven useful,” he said flatly, fingers drumming on the table. “Reliable, and Zaun respects you now.”

“Zaun fears her,” Sevika added, stepping in behind you.

“Fear and respect are often the same thing,” Silco spoke, then stood. “Stay sharp, the higher you rise, the more people want to watch you fall.”

You nodded, feeling Sevika’s hand clap down on your shoulder as you turned to leave. “Come on,” she said, a rare softness in her tone. “We’re drinking tonight, you’ve earned it.”

You had barely made it out of the door before Silco’s commanding voice cut through the air.

“Y/N.”

You stopped in your tracks, turning slowly to face him. Sevika, already halfway out the door, gave you a playful wink and shrugged, "I’ll catch up with you later."

Silco’s gaze was steady, a silent command that kept you from moving any further, “I need to speak with you.”

Sevika gave you one last look before disappearing into the night, leaving you alone with him.

You walked over to the couch, standing awkwardly for a moment, Silco waved a hand, silently inviting you to sit. You lowered yourself next to him, a careful distance between you.

He didn’t speak right away, his eyes on the floor. The quiet stretched, growing heavy with something unspoken.

Then, finally, Silco broke the silence, his voice softer than usual, “you remind me so much of myself.”

You glanced up at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his tone. “What do you mean?”

He sighed, leaning back into the couch, his fingers drumming idly on the armrest. “When I was your age, I was betrayed by those I trusted. People I thought I could rely on turned their backs on me, and just like you, I was left with nothing but the need for revenge, the hunger to make them all feel what I felt.”

There was a strange sadness in his eyes now,  “I didn’t know who I was becoming, but I knew I couldn’t go back. That’s when I decided I would become the one who controlled the betrayals, not the one who was crushed by them.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, Silco had always been a man of power, someone who commanded everything in his grasp. Seeing him like this, open, vulnerable was unsettling. 

As the silence stretched on, you felt a strange pull, a desire to comfort him. You slowly reached out, your hands unsure, before finally crossing the small gap and wrapping your arms around him.

Silco stiffened at first, his body rigid under your touch, but you didn’t let go, you held him tightly, your cheek pressed against his head as you whispered, “You’re not alone in this, Silco, not anymore.”

For a moment, he didn’t move, and you thought he might pull away. But then, his shoulders relaxed, and he leaned into you, the tension leaving his body like a flood.

The breath he let out was shaky, “I don’t need your pity, Y/N.”

“I’m not pitying you,” you replied softly, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead. “I’m just here.”

He didn’t respond, and for a second, the only sound in the room was the quiet rhythm of his breath. But then, Silco tilted his head upward, his forehead brushing against your chin.

You kissed the top of his head, slow, tender, without hesitation. The motion was strange but comforting, a brief moment of connection in the middle of all the chaos.

Silco’s body stilled again, but this time he didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned in closer, the heat of his body pressing against yours, and for a moment, you felt a surprising sense of calm.

His voice, barely above a whisper, broke the silence. “You’ve become something important to me, Y/N.”

You closed your eyes, your heart pounding in your chest, but you didn’t pull away. You simply held him, the weight of everything you’d done and everything you would do settling in the space between you.

Silco finally sat up straighter, clearing his throat and brushing a hand across his face as if to wipe away any trace of emotion. His usual cool demeanor began to return, but his eyes lingered on you with something softer.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” he said, his voice more composed now.

You looked at him curiously, still seated close. “What is it?”

He hesitated for a brief second, then stood up, straightening his jacket. “You’ve proven yourself, again and again. Zaun knows your name now, and so do its enemies. I can’t have you living in some rundown house.”

You blinked, not understanding at first. “What are you talking about?”

He glanced down at you, a small, satisfied smile tugging at his lips. “I’ve arranged for your own apartment. One of the best in Zaun, secure, private. You’ve earned it. You’re one of the most important people in this city now.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “My own place? You didn’t have to do that.”

“I did,” Silco cut you off firmly. “You’ve become an asset I can’t afford to overlook. And-” he paused, his gaze locking with yours, “-whether you like it or not, you’re a symbol now. You represent strength here, people are watching.”

You took a deep breath, letting the weight of his words sink in. “I don’t know what to say.”

Silco’s eyes softened, “say you’ll make the most of it.”

You smiled, shaking your head slightly in disbelief. “Thank you, Silco, really. I don’t know if I deserve all of this yet.”

He stepped closer, placing a firm hand on your shoulder. “You deserve it, more than most. And you’ll see this is only the beginning.”

You looked up at him, “when do I get to see it?”

A flicker of amusement crossed his face. “Tonight, if you want. Sevika has the keys, I’ll have her take you there.”

You stood, your heart still pounding with surprise. “I can’t believe this.”

He leaned in slightly, his voice low. “Believe it, Y/N. Zaun is yours now, just as much as it’s mine.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that, so you simply nodded, your mind already racing with what this new chapter would bring.

Chapter Text

You said your goodbyes to Silco, he gave you a small nod, that familiar intense gaze lingering a moment longer before he turned back to his papers. Without wasting more time, you slipped out and made your way to the bar where Sevika said she’d be.

It didn’t take long to find her, slouched in her usual spot, a half-empty glass in front of her, smoke curling lazily from the cigar between her fingers.

“Well, look who finally decided to show up,” Sevika smirked, tapping ash into a cracked tray. “Thought Silco swallowed you whole or something.”

You chuckled, sliding into the seat across from her. “He almost did, had something to talk about.”

“Oh yeah? Lemme guess, he told you the big news?”

Your brows shot up. “You mean the apartment?”

She grinned and leaned back in her chair. “Knew it, you should’ve seen your face just now, like a kid in a candy shop.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I still can’t believe it, my own place.”

Sevika’s smirk softened just a little. “You earned it, don’t act so surprised, word’s been getting around. People are talking about you, Y/N. And not just the usual bullshit, they respect you. You’re making waves.”

You exhaled slowly, trying to process it all. “I didn’t come here thinking any of this would happen.”

“No one does,” Sevika said, taking another drag from her cigar. “But you handled yourself, Silco’s not exactly generous unless someone proves they’re worth it.”

You smiled down at your hands, a warm flush of pride creeping in. “I guess I must’ve done something right.”

“Damn right you did,” Sevika said, slamming her glass down and standing up. “Come on, enough talking. Let’s get you to that fancy new apartment before I drink myself under the table.”

You laughed, grabbing your jacket. “You’re really taking me?”

“Hell yeah,” she said, tossing some coins onto the table for the bartender. “Someone’s gotta show you the way. Plus, I've got the keys”

The two of you stepped out, walking through the streets of Zaun side by side.

“So,” Sevika said, breaking the quiet, “you settling in okay? This life, it’s not exactly easy.”

You glanced at her, feeling the sincerity under her rough exterior. “Honestly? I didn’t think I’d make it this far, but it feels right, you know? Like I belong here.”

She gave you a nod of approval. “Yeah, I get that. Once you get a taste of real power, of control, it’s hard to let go.”

You smiled. “Sounds like you’ve been here a long time.”

Sevika snorted, “too long, but it’s home. And soon it’s gonna feel like home for you too.”

You finally stopped outside a building much nicer than you’d expected tall and solid, with dark stone walls and polished metal railings.

“Not bad, huh?”

You stared up, a little stunned. “This is seriously mine?”

“All yours,” Sevika confirmed, pulling out the key and unlocking the door. “Come on, let’s check it out.”

You stepped inside and gasped quietly. It was big. The living room was open and cozy, dimly lit by warm lamps, with deep-colored walls and a plush dark couch that faced a sleek table and a few shelves already stocked with books and odd trinkets. Off to the side, you could see a medium sized kitchen with dark countertops and polished wood cabinets.

“Holy shit,” you spoke.

Sevika laughed. “Told you, come on, look at the rest.”

She led you down a short hallway to the bedroom, where tall windows stretched from floor to ceiling, the glass slightly fogged from the cool Zaun air outside, heavy dark red curtains hung to the sides, and a massive bed with thick, soft blankets sat in the center of the room.

“Zaun skyline view,” Sevika joked, gesturing at the windows. “Can’t beat that.”

You walked over, pressing your fingers to the cool glass, staring out at the familiar glow of the undercity.

“This is incredible.”

“Bathroom’s over there,” Sevika pointed, “and trust me, you’re gonna love that shower. Silco doesn’t mess around when it comes to the important stuff.”

You wandered back to the living room, still a little dazed. “I can’t believe this is real.”

Sevika grinned, leaning in the doorway. “Believe it. You’ve earned every inch of it.”

You turned, smiling at her, “thanks for bringing me.”

She shrugged like it was no big deal. “Eh, someone had to make sure you didn’t get lost. So, what’s the plan now? You unpacking tonight or crashing straight away?”

You laughed. “Honestly? I might just sit here for a while and soak it in.”

Sevika chuckled, pushing off the doorframe. “Fair enough, I’ll let you settle in. But tomorrow? We celebrate properly.”

You nodded. “I’m in.”

Sevika headed for the door, pausing before she left. “Oh, and Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

Her eyes softened just a bit. “Welcome home.”

You smiled, watching her go. Once the door shut, you wandered to the center of the living room and sank down onto the couch, staring around the space in awe.

Jayce's POV.

The past few weeks had been off. No matter how hard he tried to stay focused, on the Council, on his work, on Mel, it was like there was a shadow hanging over everything.

He’d catch himself staring at the empty corner of the lab where you used to sit. Every time Viktor mentioned your name in passing, or when your letter came up again in his mind, it was like a fresh reminder of what he’d done.

He thought about writing you once or twice, he even sat down and opened a blank letter, pen in hand, staring at the paper for an hour. But what would he even say? 'Sorry for breaking you? Sorry for humiliating you?'

In the end, he tore the paper up and threw it away. He was the one who drove you away, this was his choice.

That night, he sat with Mel in her grand apartment, but even the warmth of the firelight and the fine wine in his hand couldn’t calm his mind.

Mel was watching him closely. “You’ve been distracted lately,” she said after a long silence. “More than usual.”

Jayce ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Just work. There’s a lot going on.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Is it work? Or is it her again?”

Jayce froze, eyes flicking to hers, “what?”

“You think I haven’t noticed?” Mel’s tone was calm, as always. “Every time her name comes up, you shut down. I’m not blind, Jayce.”

He set the glass down, “it’s over, she’s gone, she’s happier now.”

Mel studied him, “but are you happy?”

Jayce looked away, jaw tight. “I don’t know.”

Mel let out a slow breath, leaning back. “You told me once you needed to let her go, that it was the only way for us to work, and I trusted you.”

“I meant it,” Jayce said, his voice low. “I needed to move forward.”

Mel’s eyes narrowed slightly. “But you still think about her.”

He rubbed his face with both hands, the guilt clawing at him like it always did. “I did something awful, Mel. Something I thought would make it easier to cut ties, but it just it messed everything up.”

She tilted her head. “What did you do?”

Jayce shook his head. “It doesn’t matter, she’s in Zaun now, and she’s fine. She wrote Viktor a letter, she said she’s happy, she has a job, friends, she’s moved on.”

Mel’s gaze softened slightly. “And yet, you haven’t.”

He exhaled shakily, staring into the fire. “I thought I was doing the right thing, I thought if I pushed her away hard enough, it would be over and I could focus on us. But all I feel now is guilt. And this weird kind of sadness.”

Mel was quiet for a long moment, then she stood up, smoothing down her dress. “Jayce, I care for you, but you need to figure out what you really want, because dragging this ghost around with you, it’s not fair, not to her, not to me.”

He looked up at her, “I know.”

She nodded once, turning to leave the room. “Think about it.”

The days that followed felt heavier than usual. Mel wasn’t cold exactly, but there was a new distance between them, little things, like her pulling away when he reached for her hand, her eyes flicking past him when he spoke. He knew it was because of that conversation, because of the way he couldn’t keep you from creeping into his head, even after all this time.

And God, it was eating him alive.

He stared across the lab one afternoon, Viktor was working quietly at his bench.

Finally, Jayce slammed a wrench down and muttered, “I need to fix this.”

Viktor looked up, brow raised. “Fix what?”

Jayce shook his head, already grabbing his coat. “Everything, I’ll see you later.”

Viktor didn’t press, just gave him a knowing look as Jayce stormed out.

Your POV.

You stepped into Silco’s office, he was at his desk, papers spread out, his eyes looking up lazily when he heard the door creak open.

“Ah, there she is,” Silco said, leaning back in his chair, that sharp smile tugging at his lips. “What’s the occasion? Sevika said you settled into the new place.”

You smiled softly, clutching the small box in your hands. “Yeah, I did. It’s perfect, thank you for that, Silco. Really.”

He waved a hand dismissively, “no need to thank me, you’ve earned it. Is that-” he motioned to the box, “-for me?”

You stepped closer, setting the box gently on his desk. “Yeah. I’ve had this for a while, bought it in Piltover before everything went to hell. I didn’t even know why I got it back then, but I think I do now.”

Silco raised a brow, intrigued. He slowly opened the box, and when his eyes fell on the watch, sleek and expensive, the kind of craftsmanship Piltover was famous for, he blinked, clearly surprised.

“This is quite the piece,” he murmured, lifting it carefully. “You kept this all this time?”

You nodded, sitting across from him. “Yeah, thought I’d save it for someone who deserved it.”

He was quiet for a moment, fingers brushing over the watch, then, his gaze lifted, “why now?”

“Because you gave me a home when I kind of had nothing left, and because I trust you. It’s rare for me, you know that.”

Silco exhaled, his eyes softened, but only just. “You surprise me more than anyone else ever has.”

You smirked. “That a good thing?”

He chuckled under his breath. “For now.”

Silco slid the watch onto his wrist, studying it for a long moment. “It fits perfectly, like it was meant to be here.”

“I thought it might,” you said, leaning forward slightly. “I know you act like you don’t need things, but sometimes it’s nice to have something that reminds you people care.”

That stopped him for a moment, his gaze darkened, not in anger, but in something else, something vulnerable he rarely let show.

“You’re different,” Silco said quietly. “Most come to me out of fear or desperation, you you walked in with purpose, with fire. And now here you are, giving me a gift like we’re...” He shook his head, a rare moment of loss for words.

“Like we’re human?” you offered softly.

He gave a short laugh. “Yes, like we’re human.”

There was a short moment of silence. Then you smiled and stood, brushing your hands on your jacket. “Well, I should get going, you’ve got your empire to run.”

Silco stood too, his hand resting lightly on the watch. “Thank you,” he said, voice lower than usual. “Truly.”

You smiled back. “Anytime, Silco.”

As you turned to leave, his voice called after you.

“And, I hope you’ll stay by my side. For a long time.”

You paused at the door, glancing over your shoulder with a knowing look. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Viktor's POV.

It had been eating away at him for weeks, the distance, the silence. The letter you sent kept replaying in his head, every word memorized, but something about it still nagged at him.

So, that morning at the lab, Viktor had looked up from his workbench, glancing toward Jayce who was fiddling with a blueprint.

“I’m heading down to Zaun today,” Viktor said casually, though the edge in his voice gave him away. “Just for the day.”

Jayce looked up, blinking. “Zaun? To see her?”

Viktor nodded. “Yes, I just want to check in, make sure she’s alright.”

Jayce’s eyes flickered with something, guilt? Jealousy? “Tell her I said hi or something.”

Viktor didn’t bother answering, he was already gathering his things.

Later, in Zaun.

The familiar mist of Zaun settled over Viktor as he made his way to his home, he exhaled slowly when he reached the door, lifting his cane to knock firmly.

Nothing.

He waited, then knocked again, harder this time. “Y/N? It’s Viktor.”

Still nothing.

His stomach clenched, he knocked a third time, leaning his ear to the door, hoping, praying for any sign of life.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, pulling out his key, sliding it into the lock, he stepped inside, expecting your voice to call out, maybe half-asleep, or annoyed that he woke you.

But the apartment was dead silent.

Viktor’s eyes scanned the space, and his heart dropped, the place was empty, no clothes on the rack, the kitchen was spotless, like it hadn’t been used, the bed still perfectly made, untouched.

He stepped forward in disbelief, opening the closet, empty.

He whispered, voice shaking, “no...”

His fingers gripped the edge of the dresser, everything, gone. Not even a note left behind.

Viktor swayed back, running a shaky hand through his hair. His mind raced. 'Where could she have gone? Why wouldn’t she tell me?'

Panic rose in his chest, he wasn’t giving up, not yet.

His cane hit the uneven streets of Zaun hard as he made his way from bar to bar, frustration building with every step, he must’ve visited half a dozen places already, asking the same question over and over,

“have you seen a girl about this tall, (h/c) hair, sharp (e/c) eyes, works here or hangs around?”

And every time, he was met with a shake of the head or a blank stare, his chest tightened, but he kept pushing forward, knowing there was one last place.

The Last Drop.

He stepped inside,  approached the counter, resting his cane beside him, leaning in toward the bartender who was drying a glass lazily.

“Excuse me,” Viktor said, trying to keep his tone steady, “I’m looking for someone, a woman, my friend. She’s about this height,” he gestured with his hand, “(h/c) hair, sharp (e/c) eyes, gorgeous, she might have mentioned working at a bar, maybe here?”

The bartender raised an eyebrow, eyeing Viktor carefully. “Hmm, hard to reach and all wrapped up in mystery?”

Viktor blinked. “Yes! That sounds like her.”

The bartender smirked. “Yeah, I know who you mean, she’s been around here a few times. Not much of a talker, but she has a presence.”

Relief flooded Viktor’s chest, and he leaned forward, “is she here now?”

The bartender shook his head. “Nah. She usually comes around at night, grabs a drink, sometimes stays late.”

Viktor spoke, “She’s okay then? She’s safe?”

The bartender shrugged, wiping down the counter. “Far as I can tell, she holds her own, people around here know better than to mess with her. She’s, well, let’s say she’s made her mark.”

Viktor exhaled, gripping his cane. “Thank you, really.”

“Tell her Thieram says hi when you see her,” the bartender added with a small grin. “And that she still owes me a game of cards.”

Viktor chuckled faintly, feeling some of the tension leave his body. “I will.”

Viktor stood outside The Last Drop for a long moment, he looked down at his hands, gripping the cane tighter than he realized.

'She’s safe. She’s making her way here.'

He let out a breath, shaking his head.

“You wanted space,” he murmured, eyes flicking up to the neon signs, “and, I need to respect that.”

He stayed a few minutes more, watching people come and go, Zaunites moving through their evening, no one paying him much attention. It hit him that, whatever you were doing, you were fully part of this world now, not just visiting, you belonged here, in a way he hadn’t fully wanted to admit.

Finally, he turned away.

No more questions, no more searching.

With a quiet sigh, Viktor made his way back through the maze of streets toward the lift to Piltover. 

“Take care of yourself, Y/N...” he muttered under his breath, half to himself, half to you.

And with that, he headed back, deciding to leave it all alone for now.

Your POV.

The dimly lit bar hummed with its usual chatter as you sipped your drink, letting the warmth settle in your chest, you’d been working long hours, and it felt good to just relax for a while, yhe place was quiet for now, the occasional clink of glasses punctuating the low hum of conversations.

The bartender wiped down the counter before glancing at you. “Someone was looking for you earlier,” he said casually.

You furrowed your brow, surprised. “Who?”

The bartender shrugged, his eyes scanning the room, “thin guy, dark hair, walks with a cane. Didn’t say much, just that you were the one to find.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you instinctively set your glass down a little harder than intended. The description, it could only be one person.

“Viktor...” you murmured under your breath, he’d come all the way here, but why?

“Did he say anything else?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

The bartender leaned forward a bit. “Nah, just that he was looking for you. Left after a while, didn’t seem like he planned on sticking around.”

You nodded, trying to push the thoughts away. Viktor had already gone back to Piltover, hadn’t he?

“Thanks,” you muttered, standing up. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you hadn’t fully closed that chapter with Viktor yet, but you weren’t sure if you even wanted to.

The next day, after a full morning of tasks and a few errands, you found yourself walking into Silco’s office. He was sitting behind his desk as usual, his usual confident, calculating expression on his face.

“Y/N,” he greeted, “come in, I need to speak with you.”

You stepped inside, the door shutting quietly behind you. “What’s up?” you asked, trying to keep things casual.

Silco gestured to the chair across from him. “Sit down, There’s something I want you to do for me.”

You did as instructed, sitting down and crossing your legs. “What’s the job?”

His eyes flickered with something that almost looked like amusement. “I’ve been invited to a private party in Piltover. I need someone by my side, someone with presence, someone who can turn heads.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And you’re choosing me?”

He smiled slightly, leaning forward. “Of course, you’ve proven yourself time and again, and I think you’ll fit in perfectly at this gathering. You have a certain charm about you, people will notice you.”

You couldn’t help but feel a slight warmth at the compliment, but you kept your composure. “So, what exactly am I doing at this party?”

Silco’s gaze softened, and you could tell there was a personal reason behind this request. “I want you there for more than just the usual reason, I want you with me because you’re special. You make people take notice. It’s not just about blending, it’s about making sure I’m seen with someone who stands out, you’ll make a statement.”

You leaned back, considering his words. “So, I’m basically your arm candy for the night?”

A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “If that’s how you want to think of it, but it’s more than that. You have a presence, Y/N. And you can carry yourself with confidence, I trust you to hold your own.”

You felt a mix of flattery and excitement stir in you, “and what about the dress code? What am I wearing?”

Silco stood from his desk and walked toward the corner of the room, retrieving a garment bag. He unzipped it slowly, revealing a dark red dress that shimmered under the light, the material was sleek, elegant, with a daring slit that ran up one side. He held it up, watching your reaction.

You looked at the dress in awe, “I don’t think I’ve ever worn a dress like that before.”

“Then it’s time you did,” Silco replied, his voice smooth. “It’ll make sure you stand out, just as you should, the heels to match.”

He held up a pair of high black heels with a striking red sole, the kind of shoes that would turn heads the moment you walked into a room.

You eyed the dress and shoes, feeling a surge of excitement, “are you sure about this?”

Silco nodded, “I’m sure, you’re ready. This is your chance to truly step into your own.”

You paused, then smiled faintly. “Alright, I’ll do it.”

Silco’s smiled, “I knew you would. It’s tomorrow night, so make sure you’re prepared.”

You stood, moving toward the dress. “I won’t disappoint you.”

Chapter Text

Tonight was important. You could feel it crawling under your skin, the kind of importance that wasn’t about power, but presence. How you’d walk into that room beside Silco. How you’d command attention. How you’d make sure no one would forget you were there.

The dark red dress lay draped carefully across the bed, its silk gleaming softly when you passed by. You ran your fingers over it, feeling a spark of excitement race through your chest. But first, you had the whole day, and you were going to make sure you looked flawless.

The bath was hot, steaming up the bathroom mirror until you could barely see your own reflection. You soaked for hours, letting the water loosen every tight muscle in your body. For a while, you just leaned back, eyes half closed, imagining how the night would be. Silco by your side, the most dangerous man in Zaun, and you, his chosen companion.

After you dried off, you moved to the bedroom and carefully set out your tools. You painted your nails a deep, dark red, to match the dress, working slowly, perfectly. You leaned close to the mirror to do your makeup, smoky eyes, dark liner, lashes that framed your gaze like a weapon. You paused, smirking faintly at yourself in the mirror.

“Not bad,” you murmured under your breath, tilting your head.

Your hair took more time, swept up, styled just loose enough to look effortless but still elegant. You watched your reflection carefully, studying each small change, each detail.

When the dress finally slid over your skin, it felt like slipping into a second version of yourself. The long slit up the leg, the way the fabric hugged your figure, the deep red color that demanded attention. You pulled on the black high heels, their red soles flashing when you stepped forward, and you let yourself stand there for a moment, admiring.

Your heart raced a little as you grabbed the small black clutch Silco had left for you. You paused by the window, gazing out at the dark streets of Zaun below. Somewhere in Piltover, Viktor was probably hunched over his work. Jayce, you pushed the thought of Jayce away. Tonight wasn’t about him.

A knock came at your door.

You turned, took one last slow breath, and smiled to yourself.

Time to go.

You opened the door slowly, smoothing your hands down the silk of your dress one last time.

Silco stood there, dressed in a dark tailored suit, crisp black shirt beneath. The moment his mismatched eyes lifted to you, something in his expression stopped.

He didn’t speak right away.

He just looked.

His gaze softened at the edges, his lips parting slightly like he’d forgotten the words he meant to say.

“Well,” Silco murmured after a long moment, voice lower, slower, “you’re, stunning.”

You felt the corner of your mouth pull up, just a little smug. “You approve?”

His eyes dragged down the line of your figure, the curve of the dress, the slit up your leg, the way your dark makeup framed your eyes.

“I don’t just approve,” Silco breathed, stepping a little closer, “I knew you’d make heads turn, but this, you’ll make the whole room stop breathing.”

You laughed softly under your breath, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Flatterer.”

“I don’t waste words, you know that.” Silco smiled softly. “Come, the car is waiting.”

You stepped out, locking the door behind you, your heels clicking against the floor as you followed him, he offered you his arm.

“You’re quite the stunner too,” you murmured as you walked down the corridor beside him.

Silco gave a small, dry chuckle. “Tonight, we remind them Zaun isn’t just filth and shadows.”

You glanced up at him, playful. “Is this why you picked me? To be your beautiful distraction?”

He looked down at you, “perhaps. But also because you belong beside me.”

The words hit deeper than you expected, but you masked it with a soft laugh.

Outside, the car waited, the driver already standing ready. Silco helped you in, as you settled into the seat, you caught him watching you again, his gaze lingering too long before he looked away.

You smirked to yourself, crossing your legs, the slit in your dress slipping open just enough.

“Well, Silco,” you murmured, resting your elbow on the door, your chin on your hand, “let’s go make a scene.”

His lips curved into that knowing smile. “That, my dear, is exactly the plan.”

You stepped out of the car, your heels clicking against the smooth floor, leading into the private venue. The building was elegant, soft golden lights glowing through tall windows, a quiet hum of conversation and laughter inside.

Silco offered his arm again, and you slipped yours through his, straightening your shoulders as the two of you approached the entrance.

“Remember,” Silco murmured under his breath, voice dark and smooth, “they’ll all look, let them. You’re not here to fade into the background.”

You smiled, “oh, I wasn’t planning to.”

The doors opened.

And every single fucking head turned.

The councilors, the wealthy figures, the diplomats, the entrepreneurs, all eyes flicked instantly to you.

The dark red silk of your dress clung perfectly, the slit sliding high on your leg as you moved gracefully beside Silco, the shine of your dark smokey makeup making your eyes catch the light, for a moment, it felt like the whole room gaged.

Silco gave a slight nod to the host, smirking as he led you inside.

Your heart was racing, but not from fear but from pride

As you walked past small circles of talking guests, you heard the whispers.

'Who is she?'
'Did you see her?'
'Is that Silco’s companion?'

You kept your chin high and shoulders back. You were the finest woman in the room, and you knew it.

But then,

Your eyes caught something across the room.

Councilors. COUNCILORS???

Your pulse jumped,

'Please don’t let Jayce be here, please don’t'

Silco’s voice came low at your ear. “Ignore them. If he’s here, he’s already watching, let him.”

You turned your head slightly toward Silco, brows raised. “You knew Jayce might be here?”

Silco gave a small smile. “Why do you think I wanted you on my arm tonight?”

You laughed softly under your breath, “you’re a dangerous man, Silco.”

His lips curved slightly as he led you deeper into the crowd. “Oh, my dear you are the dangerous one tonight.”

You were walking at Silco’s side, when suddenly.

“Wait, Y/N??!”

You froze, that voice.

You turned your head and there he was, Viktor.

He was weaving through the crowd toward you, his cane tapping the floor as he hurried as fast as his frame allowed, wide-eyed, mouth parted slightly in shock.

“Viktor????” you breathed, genuinely surprised.

“Y/N!” He reached you, eyes scanning you up and down , the dress, the makeup, the heels, your arm looped through Silco’s. His jaw dropped slightly. “No, nooo, you are joking, you are with Silco?”

You felt Silco’s posture stiffen slightly at your side, though his expression remained cool, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he watched Viktor.

Without thinking, you pulled Viktor into a tight hug, grinning. “VIK!! I missed you!”

He let out a slightly awkward laugh, patting your back. “Missed you too, but, ah, you look... you look, stunning.” His eyes darted nervously between you and Silco again. “I have, so many questions, but I will not ask them, not now.”

You laughed softly, pulling back, “what are you doing here, Viktor?”

Viktor raised his eyebrows, “oh, you don’t know?”

You tilted your head, frowning slightly. “Know what?”

He gave a soft exhale. “Jayce IS the host.”

Your stomach flipped.

Silco let out a soft chuckle beside you.

You looked between the two men, eyes wide. “You knew?”

Viktor ran a hand through his hair, glancing around nervously. “Ah, Y/N, Jayce does not know you’re here, does he?”

You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry. “I, no, I didn’t know he was hosting.”

Viktor rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, he’s going to see you any moment now.” He gave a little half-smile.

You let out a shaky breath, half-laughing. “Great.”

Silco’s hand lightly touched the small of your back, his voice calm. “Let him look, let him stare. You’re with me now.”

Viktor gave you a long look his brow furrowed slightly, as if piecing things together, but he didn’t press.

“Are you happy, Y/N?” he asked softly.

You smiled, gently squeezing his hand. “I am.”

Viktor smiled back, though his eyes still held questions. “Good. That’s good.”

The sudden, sharp 'clink clink clink' of a spoon tapping against a champagne glass cut through the conversation.

You, Viktor, and Silco turned your heads along with the rest of the crowd.

Your heart dropped the second you saw him.

Standing near the center of the room, was Jayce, tall, handsome, polished in his finely tailored suit, a bright grin on his face as he raised his glass. Beside him stood Mel, radiant and elegant as ever in a sleek gold gown, her hand resting lightly on his arm.

Jayce cleared his throat, flashing the crowd his signature smile.

“Everyone, if I could steal just a moment of your time.”

The room quieted.

“First,” Jayce said warmly, “I want to thank you all for being here tonight. It means a lot to see so many friends, allies, and respected figures gathered together under one roof. Piltover thrives because of partnerships, because of innovation, collaboration, and trust.”

He turned, his gaze softening as he looked at Mel.

“And speaking of trust.” His voice grew gentler, more intimate. “I’d like to say a few words about the person who has changed my life in more ways than I can count.”

Mel arched a perfectly sculpted brow, a small amused smile tugging at her lips, but her eyes shone with curiosity.

Jayce took her hand, his voice steady but tender.

“Mel Medarda, from the first moment I met you, I knew you were unlike anyone I’d ever encountered. You are fierce, brilliant, determined, a woman who commands without saying a word. You challenge me, you push me to be better, to think bigger, to dream bigger.”

He drew in a breath, smiling wider, his eyes never leaving hers.

“You saw something in me before I even saw it in myself. You believed in me, in my work, in my vision, when no one else did. And more than that you believed in us.”

A murmur rippled softly through the room as Jayce slowly, smoothly reached into his pocket.

“Mel, I don’t know where I’d be without you. You are my partner, my equal, my greatest supporter, and the love of my life.”

The room was gaged, the air holding its breath.

Jayce dropped to one knee.

He opened the small velvet box.

“Mel Medarda,” he said, his voice sure, “would you marry me?”

Mel’s lips parted slightly, her eyes wide, but it only lasted a while.

Then, slowly her face softened into a glowing smile.

“Oh, Jayce,” she murmured, hand fluttering briefly to her chest.

The crowd leaned forward collectively.

With elegance, Mel reached down, took Jayce’s hand, and whispered, “YES.”

The room exploded, cheers, applause, champagne glasses lifted, a few women gasping and clapping with excitement. Jayce grinned wide, slipping the ring onto her finger and rising to wrap her in a tight embrace, spinning her once before kissing her.

You stood frozen.

For a second, you could hear nothing, not the applause, not the congratulations, not even Viktor’s soft, uneasy breath beside you.

Your hands felt cold at your sides. Your chest was tight, not in sharp pain, but in a heavy, suffocating sort of ache. So this was it, you had thought you’d let go, that you were past him, that the life you’d chosen was behind you, but seeing it, hearing it,

You glanced to the side.

Silco was already watching you, his hands folded loosely behind his back. His gaze flicked once to Jayce and Mel, then back to you, waiting, studying, as if quietly testing whether you would flinch.

Next to you, Viktor exhaled slowly, glancing down. His knuckles were white on his cane, jaw tight, he wasn’t clapping, only staring, a faint, sad frown tugging at his lips.

He saw you looking at him.

For a second, just a second, you saw it there, a silent, unspoken pain.

He didn’t say anything, you didn’t either.

You turned stiffly, eyes burning, and without a word, you caught Silco’s gaze.

“Let’s go.”

Silco arched a brow slightly but didn’t question you. With a nod, he stepped away from the crowd, falling into step beside you as you moved through the hall, past the smiling guests, the glittering champagne flutes, the scent of flowers and wealth and Piltover perfection.

You didn’t even glance back at Viktor, you couldn’t, not now.

When you reached the car outside, you climbed in quickly, folding your arms tightly across your chest. Silco slid in beside you, the door shutting.

For a long moment, there was only silence.

Silco didn’t speak, he simply leaned back, watching you. The driver pulled the car away, the city lights flickering past the window.

Your jaw clenched so hard it hurt.

Jayce, that asshole.

You had thought the worst pain had passed, you had thought you’d buried it, turned the page. But no, he had just added fuel to the fire, publicly driving the knife deeper, making sure you’d never forget exactly where you stood.

Your hands curled slowly into fists in your lap, you barely noticed how your nails dug into your skin.

Beside you, Silco’s voice came low, almost amused, “I don’t know what you saw in him.”

He smiled, unbothered, as if he could see right through you. “But I can tell you one thing, darling…” His voice dropped, “the anger in you now? That’s worth more than any broken heart.”

“Good,” you finally whispered under your breath, “I need it.”

Silco chuckled softly and settled back into his seat, watching you again.

You didn’t look at him again. You just stared hard out the window, past the glowing Piltover towers, past the golden streets and into the waiting heart of Zaun.

Silco's POV.

Silco sat alone in his office a single envelope lay in front of him, the seal of Piltover’s Council pressed in wax.

He turned it slowly in his fingers, tapping it once against the wood before breaking it open.

Inside: An invitation.

A private gathering hosted by none other than Jayce Talis, to celebrate a special announcement.

Silco’s smile spread slowly.

'Ah, so that was it.'

He leaned back in his chair, his mind began to work, threads connecting.

You.

You, feral little creature who had stormed into Zaun with pain in your chest and fury in your eyes. You, who had come to him not as some lost soul begging for protection, but as a burning weapon, seeking power, seeking vengeance.

He had watched you, day by day. Watched as the heat inside you began to cool, not because the pain was gone, no, but because time healed all pain, you were getting comfortable, settling in.

Too comfortable.

Silco’s smile faded slightly, he couldn’t let that happen. Not yet.

Not when he saw in you so much potential, so much dangerous rage, just waiting to be set loose.

He exhaled slowly, drumming his fingers lightly on the armrest.

“You’re a fire,” he murmured under his breath, “but even fire needs air.”

And what better air than this? To stand in the very halls of Piltover, beside the man who had shattered you, and see how easily he moved on.

Silco’s lips twitched into a satisfied grin.

Oh, he knew.

He knew what this would do to you, he knew exactly what paths you would walk afterward, and he was more than happy to lead you there.

Slowly, he reached for a glass, poured himself a measure of whiskey, and raised it slightly in the air.

“To Jayce,” he murmured softly, smiling into the shadows. “And to your rebirth.”

Your POV.

You slammed the door to your apartment shut,

Your heels clicked sharply across the floor as you paced, hands trembling not from sadness but from rage.

Your breath came fast, your chest ached.

What happened to you? What the hell happened to you?

You came here to Zaun for revenge, you came here to make Jayce pay. You came here with fire in your veins, ready to tear apart the golden city that had chewed you up and spit you out.

But then, you got comfortable, you let yourself breathe, you let yourself rest.

Rest? What a joke.

You gritted your teeth, pacing faster.

You could still see his face, Jayce, standing there, smiling like none of it mattered, like you had never mattered, slipping a damn ring onto Mel’s finger, thinking that was his perfect, happy ending.

You slammed your fist onto the kitchen counter,

No.

No, no, no. This wasn’t over.

“He will not win,” you spoke under your breath, eyes darkening, fists clenched so tight your nails bit into your palms. “He will not get away with this.”

He hurt you once. Twice?

That was the last time.

You straightened, breathing hard. Slowly, a wicked, determined grin spread across your face.

Oh, Jayce had no idea.

He had nooo idea what storm was about to come for him.

But you knew.

You knew exactly what needed to be done.

And you knew just the person who would help you do it.

Your eyes flicked toward the window, toward the smog that stretched over Zaun.

Silco.

Chapter Text

The next morning, you woke up with no hesitation, no lingering thoughts.

You showered quickly, brushed out your hair, dressed up, tied up your boots tight. You moved through your morning routine with perfection.

By the time you stepped out into Zaun’s streets, your jaw was set, your eyes fixed. No more soft moments, no more waiting.

You didn’t even stop to breathe as you made your way to Silco’s office.

Inside, you found Sevika standing near him, arms crossed, smirking slightly when she saw you.

“Morning, troublemaker,” she spoke, “You look like you didn’t sleep a damn second.”

“Didn’t need to,” you said, offering smile.

She huffed, “Well, he’s all yours.” She patted your shoulder briefly as she passed, muttering, “Good luck.”

You stepped further in, closing the door softly behind you.

Silco was seated on the couch, cigarette between his fingers, watching you.

He exhaled slowly, “you look stiff,” he murmured, voice low, “sit.”

You moved without hesitation, sinking into the chair across from him, hands resting on your knees, body tight with tension, you locked eyes with him.

“Silco,” you said quietly, “I need a favor.”

He smiled softly, “a favor?? You’ve been nothing but loyal, darling. You’ve proven yourself again and again. You already know,” he leaned forward slightly, voice dropping low, “I’d do anything for you.”

Your spoke, “I want to take him down,” you whispered. “Jayce.”

Silco’s smile widened just a bit, the corners of his mouth twitching with satisfaction. “Ah,” he exhaled. “There it is, the fire I saw in you the day we met.”

He stubbed out the cigarette, his gaze never leaving you. “You’re sure you’re ready for this? Once we move, there’s no turning back.”

You nodded slowly, eyes fierce, “trust me, I was born ready.”

Silco chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Good,” he spoke. “Then let’s make sure Piltover remembers your name.”

He leaned back, folding his hands. “Tell me everything you want darling, every revenge you dream of. And we’ll make sure it all comes true.”

You inhaled, a grin creeping over your face. “Oh, Silco,” you whispered, “I want to ruin him.”

His eyes sparkled. “Then let’s begin.”

You leaned forward locking eyes with Silco.

“I need your people.”

Silco raised an eyebrow, “my people?”

You nodded, “not just a few, Silco. I need a lot. Men, women, doesn’t matter. Fighters, spies, runners. I want them under my command. They follow me, they obey me. Whatever I say, they do.”

Silco leaned back slightly, tapping his fingers against the couch armrest. “That’s quite the request,” he spoke. “And what, exactly, is this big idea of yours?”

You gave a sly grin, “let’s just say,” you said slowly, “I know exactly how to burn Jayce’s perfect little world down.”

Silco laughed under his breath, shaking his head. “Ooooh, I do love the way you think,” he murmured.

You sat up straighter, determination radiating off you.

“I’m serious, Silco. I don’t just want a few hands. I need an army behind me, I want eyes everywhere. I want them moving in Piltover, in Zaun, in every shadow. I need to be able to snap my fingers and make something happen.”

Silco tilted his head, “and you believe you can command them?”

You gave a confident smile. “They’ll follow me, trust me Silco, they’ll see soon enough I’m not here to play games.”

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head in amusement.

“I always knew you were dangerous,” he spoke. “Fine, darling, I’ll give you my people. As many as you want, you’ll have their loyalty, but more importantly,” he leaned forward slightly, eyes never leaving yours, “you’ll have mine.”

You smiled. “Good,” you whispered, “because when we’re finished, Jayce won’t know what hit him.”

Silco smirked, rising from his chair, extending a hand toward you. “Then let’s light the match.”

Viktor's POV.

Viktor stood near the edge of the room, cane in hand, quietly observing the guests swirling around in laughter, champagne, and polished conversation. He was distracted, honestly, he hadn’t even wanted to come tonight. But Jayce insisted.

He sighed, tapping the cane lightly against the floor, when.

His heart nearly stopped.

You walked past.

Viktor’s eyes widened slightly, his breath caught in his throat.

You were breathtaking.

You weren’t the same person he remembered from those long days and nights in the lab, wrapped in quiet laughter and casual clothes, walking around with half-tied hair and a brilliant mind.

No no no,

This version of you was dangerous, seductive. The slight curve of your lips, the flash in your eyes, the sway of your figure in that dark red dress, you were untouchable, like fire dressed in silk.

And Viktor, daaamn him, liked it.

Before his mind could catch up, his body was already moving.

“Wait, Y/N??!” he called, walking toward you.

You turned slightly, surprised.

And then, he saw him.

Silco.

Viktor’s chest tightened painfully. Silco????

He watched you walk with Zaun’s infamous crime lord, watched you lean in, watched you speak to him.

Viktor’s hand tightened slightly on the cane.

No, no fucking way.

His stomach twisted, he told himself you’re allowed to move on, you’re allowed to change, but the thought that you might have aligned yourself with someone like Silco?

Well, maybe you weren’t dating. Maybe you were just...

But his heart sank deeper, because deep down, Viktor was in love with you. Always had been, and watching you, standing there now, radiant and deadly beside Silco, he couldn’t help but wonder, had he already lost you too for good?

After a while,

Viktor was standing there, frozen, cane lightly trembling in his hand.

Jayce just proposed.

Mel said yes.

The room exploded with applause, cheers and laughter, but Viktor's mind was somewhere else.

You.

He had just spoken with you moments before, you were quiet, you glanced at him.

Then you turned back to Silco, whispered something to him, and left.

Without saying a word to Viktor.

His chest ached, and it wasn’t from the pain of standing so long.

He sat down at a small table, pressing his palm to his forehead. Shit.

He hadn’t been prepared to see you. Hadn’t been prepared to feel all that ache ruin him.

And then, “Viktor!”

Jayce’s loud, cheerful voice pulled him back to reality. Viktor looked up.

Jayce, flushed with happiness, a little tipsy, clapped him on the back.

“Did you see, old friend???? She said YES!” Jayce laughed warmly, shaking Viktor’s shoulder. “Ah, Viktor, this is the best night of my life, I swear.”

Viktor forced a small smile.

“Yes, Jayce. Congratulations.”

But Jayce tilted his head slightly, frowning.

“You look off, what’s wrong? Are you sad about the engagement or something?”

Viktor let out a breath, "no, not that.”

Jayce raised an eyebrow, “then what?”

Viktor hesitated. His fingers curled slightly on the cane, “she was here.”

Jayce blinked, “she?”

Viktor’s gaze hardened. “Y/N.”

Jayce froze, “what the fuck?”

“She was here, Jayce,” Viktor repeated quietly. “I saw her, I spoke to her, and she was...”

He hesitated, the words felt bitter in his mouth, “...with Silco.”

Jayce’s face drained of color. “W-what??? No fucking way. You're joking right?”

Viktor gave a small nod. “She left after you proposed. I don’t think she wanted to stay.”

Jayce just stood there, staring at Viktor, his mouth slightly open, “no, that’s not possible. With Silco??”

Viktor gave a faint laugh, shaking his head slightly. “I didn’t want to believe it either.”

Jayce passed a hand through his hair, heart racing. “Fuuuuck, why was she here? Why was she even at this party??”

Viktor watched him quietly. “Perhaps you should ask yourself that, Jayce.”

Jayce turned to Viktor, “did she look happy?”

Viktor’s eyes softened, “no, she looked dangerous.”

Jayce swallowed hard, mind spinning, he hadn’t seen you in so long, hadn’t heard from you.

But now,

You were here, in Piltover. At his fucking engagement party.

With Silco.

Jayce let out a shaky breath, “shit, I am so fucked”

Later that night,

Viktor closed the door to his apartment quietly.

He leaned his cane against the wall, removing his coat with trembling hands.

The moment the fabric slipped from his shoulders, he felt it.

That suffocating weight pressing down on his chest.

He stumbled to the chair by his desk and collapsed into it, elbows digging into his knees, fingers burying into his hair.

He let out a shaky breath.

Then another.

And then,

It broke.

A low, choked sob escaped his throat as his shoulders trembled. His hands clenched at his scalp.

“I thought... I thought you’d come back,” he whispered to the empty room, voice cracking.

“I waited... I waited for you...”

Tears blurred his vision, spilling hot and fast down his cheeks.

He had loved you for so long. Quietly, secretly.

He had waited, through everything. Through his pain, through his broken body, through Jayce.

He had told himself, 'One day, one day, maybe, you’ll look at me.'

'One day, you’ll see I was here the whole time.'

But now...

You had come back, and you weren’t his, you weren’t for him.

You were with Silco.

The image burned in his mind, you in that dress, walking into that party like you owned the room. And Silco, at your side.

You whispering to him, you leaving with him.

Viktor let out a broken sob, curling forward, pressing his forehead to his knees.

His thin shoulders shook violently.

“Why???????” he choked out.

“Why did it have to be him?”

The room was silent but for the shaky sound of his breathing, the wetness of his tears.

For so long, he had hoped Jayce would get out of the way.

For so long, he had hoped, if you came back, you’d come back to him.

But now, he was farther from you than ever.

And the only thing he could do was sit there, in the dark, and let his heart break, alone.

Your POV.

The large, dimly lit hall buzzed with energy. Dozens of Zaunites, men, women, tough fighters, chemtech runners, spies, smugglers stood gathered before you.

Silco had gathered them here, for you.

He stood beside you only a moment, hand lightly brushing your arm.

“They’re yours now,” he murmured low near your ear, “make them believe.”

Then he stepped back, leaving you alone under the flickering light.

You stood still for a moment, letting the tension hang. You could feel their eyes on you, waiting.

Some crossed arms, some leaning against walls, some shifting restlessly.

You lifted your chin slowly, a small controlled smile curving on your lips.

And then, you spoke.

“You’re tired.”

The room quieted, just slightly.

“You’re tired of living in the dirt while Piltover eats from golden plates.”

“You’re tired of their laws, their greed, their glass towers looking down on you like you’re nothing.”

A few faces twitched, some nodding faintly, others frowning.

“You’re tired of being hungry, being small, being invisible.”

Your eyes swept over them.

“But I’m here to tell you, that ends now.”

A faint murmur rippled through the crowd, you took a step forward.

“Everything is about to change.”

Someone, a tall, broad man in the back scoffed, folding his arms.

“And you’re the one who’s going to do it?” he called out, half-mocking.

You smiled coldly, “Yes.”

His brows shot up slightly, but he didn’t speak again.

You paced, just slightly, voice low but commanding.

“I’m not here to feed you empty promises. I’m not here to tell you we’ll beg Piltover for scraps.”

You paused, meeting their eyes, one by one.

“I’m here to tell you, we’re going to take everything they never wanted to give you.”

“I will lead you, I will fight with you, I will make sure Zaun rises from the filth they’ve shoved you into.”

Your voice hardened, loud and dangerous now.

“But if you want that, if you want more, if you want to stop crawling and start ruling, you will give me everything.”

You spread your arms slightly, inviting.

“Your devotion, your loyalty, your strength.”

A woman near the front, with scars on her arms, narrowed her gaze at you.

“And what do you give us in return?” she asked.

You tilted your head slowly.

“I will give you everything.”

The room fell silent.

You smiled, a slow, wicked smile.

“Power, food, control, respect. A future, everything they said you’d never have.”

You stepped forward once more,

“But you must decide.”

You let your gaze sweep over them.

“Stay in the filth, or rise with me.”

For a moment, the room was still.

You could feel their breathing, their unspoken hunger, their tension. 

A slow clap echoed.

From the shadows, Silco’s low voice spoke, “well said.”

And then, one by one, they began to nod.

A few raised fists.

Someone muttered, “I’m in.”

Another echoed, “for Zaun.”

Another, louder, “for you.”

The crowd clapped, voices rising.

You stood in the center of it, a slow smile pulling across your face, heart pounding,

feeling the power shift, feeling the moment inflame.

This was it,

This was the beginning.

Chapter Text

The door closed softly behind you as you stepped into Silco’s office. The air was thick with the faint scent of cigars and the quiet creak of the old leather chair as he sat.

He didn’t look up right away, but you could feel his gaze flick over you as you approached. His smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. “You carry yourself differently now,” he murmured. “Did you know that?”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms, “differently how?”

Silco leaned back in his chair, letting his eye travel lazily over you. “You’ve always been fire, but now...” He chuckled low, “now you know how to hold the flame. You walk like you own the ground under your feet, like you know people will follow.”

You laughed softly, “maybe they will, maybe they won’t. But I don’t really care anymore.”

His gaze sharpened, voice dropping a little. “That’s what makes you dangerous, you know. Most people, they crave approval but you, crave control.”

You stepped closer, tilting your head, watching him closely. “And what do you crave, Silco?”

His smirk deepened. “I thought you already knew the answer to that.”

You leaned on the edge of his desk, just a breath away from him, the air thick between you. “Tell me anyway.”

Silco let the silence stretch for a moment, “power,” he murmured, eyes locked on yours. “And, perhaps” His voice softened, “something, someone who understands what it feels like to be carved open by ambition, to be consumed by it.”

You gave a slow smile, leaning in just slightly. “Careful, Silco, that almost sounds vulnerable.”

His laugh was low, “not vulnerable,” he whispered, “just honest.”

The space between you seemed to tighten, the air charged. His hand brushed lightly against yours on the desk, a touch that lingered just a moment too long.

You smirked slightly, “is this your idea of praising me? Because I expected something more” You let the sentence hang, eyes glittering with challenge.

Silco rose slowly from the chair, closing the distance until you were only inches apart. He was taller, his presence magnetic. “Oh, darling,” he murmured, “I’m only getting started.”

Your breath caught just slightly as he leaned in, “you’ve stirred up something dangerous in me, you know.”

You smirked, turning your face just a little closer. “Good,” you whispered back, “I like dangerous.”

For a long second, neither of you moved, the pull between you undeniable. His hand grazed your waist, thumb tracing a light, deliberate line along the fabric of your shirt.

He met your eyes, a smile tugging at his mouth, “tell me to stop,” he spoke, his voice low, almost teasing.

You gave the faintest shake of your head, your smile curling, wicked and sure. “No.”

Silco smirked, he picked you up and placed you on his desk, his hands gripping your thighs with a possessive firmness. He set you down, his body pinning you against the hard surface as he claimed your mouth in a messy kiss.

You moaned into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair as he attacked your lips with a hunger that took your breath away. His tongue danced with yours, dominating every inch of your mouth.

Silco's hands roamed your curves, caressing your breasts through the thin fabric of your clothes. You arched into his touch, desperate for more. He seemed to sense your need, his fingers slowly removed your shirt.

You shivered as the cool air hit your skin, your nipples hardening. Silco broke the kiss, his eyes dark with lust as he took in the sight of you. "You're playing a dangerous game, Y/N," he murmured,

You reached for him, tugging him closer. "And you're enjoying every minute of it," you challenged, your voice low.

A wicked grin spread across Silco's face, "perhaps I am."

His hands cupped your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. You gasped, your head falling back.

Silco's hands drifted lower, over your stomach and hips, until he reached your waistband. He pushed your pants down, exposing your lace panties to his hungry gaze. "Look at you," he whispered, his fingers touching the damp fabric. "Already so wet for me."

You bit your lip, nodding as his touch ignited a fire deep within you. Silco hooked his fingers into your panties, pulling them down your legs and tossing them aside. He pushed your thighs apart, his eyes looking at your glistening folds.

"Fuck, Y/N," he groaned, his fingers teasing your entrance. "You're absolutely dripping."

He plunged two fingers inside you, curling them just right to hit that sweet spot that made you see stars. You cried out, your hips bucking against his hand as he worked you into insanity.

"You like that, sweetheart?" Silco growled, pumping his fingers faster. "You like it when I finger you?."

"Yes," you panted, barely able to form clear words. "Don't stop."

Silco chuckled, adding a third finger and stretching you even further. You could feel every inch of his fingers as they moved inside you, driving you closer to the edge.

Just as you were about to come, Silco withdrew his fingers. You whimpered at the loss, only to gasp as he brought them to his lips, licking them clean, "delicious," he purred, his eyes glinting with desire.

He undid his belt, the clink of his zipper echoing in the room. Your eyes widened as he freed his huge cock, thick and hard and ready for you. Silco positioned himself at your entrance, the tip of his dick brushing against your clit.

"Beg for it," he demanded, his voice rough with need. "Beg me to fuck you."

You hesitated for a moment, your pride warring with your desire. But the hunger in Silco's eyes was too much to resist.

"Please," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "Please fuck me, Silco."

A grin spread across his face. "Good girl."

With that, he thrust into you, filling you completely in one stroke. You cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders as he started to move. Each thrust sent shockwaves through your body, pleasure building with each passing second.

Silco set a punishing pace, his hips slamming against yours as he drove into you again and again. The desk creaked beneath you, the sound mixing with your moans and the slap of skin on skin.

"Fuuuuuck, Y/N," Silco groaned, his forehead pressed against yours. "You feel so good, so tight and perfect."

His words only fueled the fire inside you, pushing you closer to the edge. You clung to him, your nails scratching down his back as you met each thrust.

"I'm close," you panted, feeling the pressure build inside you. "Don't stop."

"Never," Silco promised, his hand sliding between your bodies to rub tight circles on your clit.

That was all it took. With a scream of his name, you came undone, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm. Silco followed soon after, burying himself deep inside you as he found his own release.

You lay sprawled on the desk, skin still flushed, chest rising and falling as you caught your breath. The cool air kissed the sweat on your body as you shifted slightly, eyes half-lidded, watching Silco pull out of you, tucking himself back into his pants.

He pulled himself together with ease, buttoning his shirt slowly, sliding his belt back into place, running a hand through his messy dark hair. But his gaze kept flicking back to you, and the corner of his mouth pulled into a satisfied grin.

“You,” he murmured, voice low, “felt incredible.”

You let out a soft laugh, stretching lazily on the desk, your fingers tracing absent patterns over your own skin. “Oh, don’t sound so surprised.”

He let out a low chuckle, stepping closer, crouching just a bit so he could tilt your chin up with his fingers. “Perfect,” he whispered, eyes glinting. “You were perfect,” his thumb brushed along your bottom lip, lingering. “Should’ve done this long ago.

You gave him a playful smile, catching his wrist gently with your hand, “Oh? And what kept you waiting, Silco?”

His grin widened, eyes narrowing slightly, “Mmm,” he hummed, brushing his thumb slowly down your jaw. “Timing, darling. Timing is everything.”

You leaned into his touch just faintly, “So,” you murmured, voice teasing, “does this mean I get special treatment now?”

Silco laughed softly, shaking his head, eyes shining with amusement. “Oh, you were already special.” His voice dropped to a near whisper. “But now you’re mine.”

You smirked up at him, your pulse still thrumming under your skin. “I don’t belong to anyone, Silco.”

He leaned in close, his lips just grazing the shell of your ear as he murmured, “Oh, darling, we’ll see about that.”

Silco, helped you put your shirt on, his fingers brushing teasingly along your skin. You gave him a playful glare.

“Careful,” you warned with a smirk. “If you keep touching me like that, we’re never leaving this room.”

He only chuckled, smoothing your hair off your neck and pressing one last, lingering kiss to the side of your throat before stepping back, straightening his vest. “Tempting offer.”

Just then, 'knock, knock, knock'

You both froze.

“You expecting someone?” you asked.

Silco let out a sigh. “Sevika.”

And sure enough, the door swung open without waiting for an answer. Sevika leaned casually against the frame, arms crossed, a crooked grin on her face.

But then,

She also froze.

Her nose wrinkled slightly, brow furrowing, eyes narrowing as she sniffed faintly at the air.

“Oh, ew, are you kidding me?” she groaned, pulling a face. “You two couldn’t wait five minutes?”

You flushed slightly, shooting Silco a glare, but he just stood there, smug as hell, calmly adjusting his cuffs like nothing happened.

“What do you want, Sevika?” Silco asked, arching a brow.

She smirked, shaking her head with an exaggerated sigh. “Honestly? I came to invite her for a drink.” She nodded toward you, grin widening. “But maybe you need some water first, sweetheart.”

You laughed, covering your face with one hand. “Oh my God, Sevika, shut the fuck up”

“Hey, hey, no judgment,” Sevika said, holding up her hands, “I’m just saying, it smells like a damn brothel in here.”

Silco let out a quiet snort, clearly amused, while you groaned loudly. “Can we please not talk about this?”

Sevika chuckled, pushing off the doorframe. “Anyway, drinks, later? You need to unwind, trust me.”

You gave her a tired but genuine smile. “Yeah, yeah, sounds good. After I recover from this.”

“Good,” she said with a grin. “I’ll see you later, lovebirds.” She gave you a wink, then sauntered walked down the hallway, still laughing softly to herself.

You turned back to Silco, shaking your head in disbelief. “Unbelievable.”

He just smirked, crossing his arms. “She’s got a good nose.”

You glanced up at Silco, feeling the ache in your muscles and the weight pressing down on you all at once, with a small, tired smile, you murmured, “I’m exhausted, I should sleep.”

Silco tilted his head slightly, he stepped closer, brushing his fingers along your arm in a brief gesture, like he didn’t quite want to let you go. “Of course,” he spoke. Then, turning toward the door, he called, “You, walk her home.”

One of his men, you vaguely recognized the face, though you couldn’t recall a name, nodded from just outside the hall, silently stepping forward to accompany you.

Silco’s eyes flicked back to you one last time, “sleep well, darling.” His voice dropped lower, “you’ll need your strength.”

You smiled, “goodnight, Silco.”

The walk back to your apartment was quiet. Your escort stayed a step behind, silent and respectful, you appreciated that.

Once you arrived, you thanked him, closed the door behind you, and let out a long, heavy breath.

The apartment felt still, you peeled off your clothes slowly, and headed for the bathroom. The hot water of the shower hit your back, and you stood under it for a long, long time.

When you finally sank onto your bed, hair still damp, you pulled your knees up to your chest, staring blankly at the far wall.

Silco.

You hadn’t expected this, hadn’t expected him to pull you in like this. Sure, you’d planned it, charm him, work your way close, pull his strings. You knew how men like him worked, knew they craved power, loyalty, control, and you knew how to slip under their skin.

But there was something about the way he looked at you, the way he fucked you, the way his eyes softened when you were near. 

He was falling for you.

You let out a slow, shaky breath, pressing your forehead to your knees. This was good, this was exactly what you needed.

Silco's POV.

Silco sat back on the worn leather couch, one arm stretched across the top, a half-smoked cigarette balanced between his fingers. His eyes fixed on the door you had just left through.

A slow grin crept across his mouth.

You.

You were falling for him.

He could see it in your eyes, in the way your voice softened when you spoke his name, the way you leaned in just a little too close, the way you trembled under his touch tonight, helpless and beautiful.

Silco let out a slow, smoky breath, tipping his head back.

He hadn’t expected this when you first came to him, when you first stepped into his office, all fire and fury, eyes hard with revenge. You were a storm then, a weapon looking for a target. And now?

Now, you were still a weapon, but you were his.

He could feel it.

That perfect mix of loyalty and desire, the way you trusted him, the way you melted under him. Oh, he knew power when he saw it. He knew what it was like to have someone devoted to him.

And you?

You weren’t just devoted.

You were enchanted.

Silco chuckled softly, shaking his head. He reached for the whiskey bottle on the table, pouring himself a glass.

He hadn’t planned this, he hadn’t expected you to become part of his world like this, to slip under his skin. But now that you were here, now that you were tangled in his life, he wouldn’t let you go.

You were his now.

And soon, everything you wanted, everything you burned for, everything you hated, he would make sure it was all within your reach.

Because if you were his, he would give you the world.

Your POV.

The next day,

That evening.

You stood tall on the edge of the old steel platform, your coat catching in the Zaun winds, hair swept back, gaze locked on the crowd gathered below you. Silco’s men, no, your men now, were waiting, eyes lifted, some crossed arms, some hands shoved in pockets, others leaning casually against walls.

You took a slow breath.

“Alright, listen up.”

Your voice cut through the air, loud and commanding. The scattered conversations died instantly, every single face turned your way.

“You’re tired of living in the shadows, aren’t you?” you called, voice rising. “Tired of Piltover walking around with their polished boots on your throats, pretending you don’t exist?”

A few low murmurs of agreement.

“They think you’re nothing. Dirt, rats in the gutters.” You took a slow step forward, the click of your heel sharp on the metal. “But they’ll hear you soon. They’ll hear all of you.”

You gave a slow grin.

“Starting tonight.”

A wave ran through the crowd, tension, excitement.

“I want you,” you said, pointing across the group, “to start riots in Piltover. Not quiet or hidden. But loud and public. I want the streets shaking, I want the people scared in their golden beds, knowing that we’re out here, that we can walk right into their precious city and tear up their peace any time we choose.”

You narrowed your eyes.

“Break their windows, burn their banners. Shake their foundations, but don’t kill.” You lifted a finger, “not yet. We’re sending a message, not starting a war. That will come later, when they’re good and broken.”

They shifted, nodding, some exchanging looks.

“Can you do this for me?” you asked softly, stepping to the edge of the platform, tilting your head.

A rough chorus of “Yes!” rose from the group, growing stronger.

“I said can you do this for me?” you repeated, louder now.

"YEEEEESS!!!!”

You smiled wide, satisfaction curling in your chest.

“Good,” you murmured. “Make them tremble.”

And as they began to break into groups, some already preparing, some laughing, some grinning. Piltover wouldn’t know what hit them.

And Jayce?

That golden world of his was about to shatter.

Chapter Text

Jayce's POV before the party.

Mel, Mel, Mel.

He loved her, God, he did. He was head over heels for her, wasn’t he? She was brilliant, elegant, intoxicating, everything he thought he wanted. And yet, why the hell did the memory of you keep creeping in, pulling at him?

It didn’t matter. He had made his choice.

And now he needed to prove it to her, to himself, to the whole damn city if he had to.

By the time he reached the jewelry store, his heart was pounding.

He would fix this.

He would give her something undeniable, a promise she could hold in her hands.

A ring.

He stepped into the shop, eyes scanning the display. Something stunning, something perfect. Something worthy of Mel Medarda.

As he picked up the delicate box, a determined smile tugged at his lips.

Whatever ghosts from the past haunted him, they were just that.

Ghosts.

Mel was his future.

He would make sure she knew it, he would make sure the entire city knew it.

Jayce left the jewelry shop, the small velvet box tucked deep into his coat pocket, his fingers curling tightly around it like it was the key to fixing everything.

No, not like it was. It is.

He made his way through the city, mind spinning with plans. He couldn’t just propose, that wasn’t enough. This wasn’t some quiet, private moment, this was a statement.

He needed everyone to see it, he needed everyone to know.

Piltover, Zaun, it didn’t matter where they came from, who they were. Mel Medarda was his, and he would prove it.

The next day, he began making preparations.

He called caterers, rented out a private hall in one of Piltover’s most elite estates, arranged musicians, decorations, photographers. He carefully selected the guest list, only the most important people, councilors, wealthy figures, diplomats, entrepreneurs, scientists.

And, of course, Zaun’s leader, Silco. After all, Piltover was making efforts to improve relations with Zaun. It was only right to include him.

But no one else from Zaun, no need to make it messy.

He didn’t tell Viktor everything. Only that there was a private event next week, and Viktor was invited.

Viktor had looked up from his workbench, curious, “what is the occasion?”

Jayce had just grinned, “you’ll see.”

And for the next week, Jayce poured himself into every detail.

The ring, the speech, the surprise.

He imagined Mel’s face when he went down on one knee, imagined the room bursting into applause, imagined her looking at him the way she used to.

No more drifting, no more distance.

This was how he would fix everything.

By the time the night of the party arrived, Jayce stood in front of his mirror, adjusting his tie, heart pounding with adrenaline.

Tonight was going to change everything, he just didn’t know yet how much.

Later that night,

The room exploded with applause as Mel softly said "YES."

Jayce let out a shaky, half-laughing breath as he slid the ring onto her finger, feeling his chest rise so tight he thought he might explode. She laughed too as he pulled her into a hug, spinning her once before kissing her.

The councilors cheered, glasses lifted high, people already closing in, shaking Jayce’s hand, clapping him on the back.

“Congratulations, Jayce!”,

“You two are perfect together!”

“She’s a gem, Jayce, well done!”

His mind spun with the rush of it all, this was what he wanted, Mel close at his side, the city watching, recognizing him, all his hard work.

He laughed again, squeezing Mel’s hand, barely able to stay still as they moved through the small crowd.

The music resumed, people drifted back toward their champagne and conversations.

Mel was swept up by a councilor, laughing at something they said. Jayce stood back for a second, running a hand through his hair, grinning so wide his cheeks hurt.

Finally, things were aligning.

He turned slightly, eyes scanning the room and that’s when he saw him.

Viktor.

Sitting alone at one of the corner tables, his cane resting against his leg, pressing his palm to his forehead.

Jayce made his way over, catching Viktor’s eye with a grin.

“Viktor!!”

Viktor looked up.

“Did you see, old friend???? She said YES!” Jayce laughed warmly, shaking Viktor’s shoulder. “Ah, Viktor, this is the best night of my life, I swear.”

Viktor forced a small smile.

“Yes, Jayce. Congratulations.”

But Jayce tilted his head slightly, frowning.

“You look off, what’s wrong? Are you sad about the engagement or something?”

Viktor let out a breath, "no, not that.”

Jayce raised an eyebrow, “then what?”

Viktor hesitated. His fingers curled slightly on the cane, “she was here.”

Jayce blinked, “she?”

Viktor’s gaze hardened. “Y/N.”

Jayce froze, “what the fuck?”

“She was here, Jayce,” Viktor repeated quietly. “I saw her, I spoke to her, and she was...”

He hesitated, the words felt bitter in his mouth, “...with Silco.”

Jayce’s face drained of color. “W-what??? No fucking way. You're joking right?”

Viktor gave a small nod. “She left after you proposed. I don’t think she wanted to stay.”

Jayce just stood there, staring at Viktor, his mouth slightly open, “no, that’s not possible. With Silco??”

Viktor gave a faint laugh, shaking his head slightly. “I didn’t want to believe it either.”

Jayce passed a hand through his hair, heart racing. “Fuuuuck, why was she here? Why was she even at this party??”

Viktor watched him quietly. “Perhaps you should ask yourself that, Jayce.”

Jayce turned to Viktor, “did she look happy?”

Viktor’s eyes softened, “no, she looked dangerous.”

Jayce let out a shaky breath, “shiiit, I am so fucked.”

Jayce stayed at the party long after his conversation with Viktor, smiling, laughing, drinking, accepting every congratulations that came his way.

He pulled Mel close, an arm constantly around her waist, a hand brushing over hers, fingers lingering on her back almost possessive. He wanted the whole room to see, 'she’s mine.'

He was Jayce Talis, councilor, golden boy of Piltover, innovator. The man who brought Hextech to life. And Mel Medarda? The richest, most powerful woman in the city.

Why the fuck was he worrying?

Still, under all the noise, under the weight of the champagne and celebration, there was that creeping edge of fear in his gut.

You, with Silco.

Jayce clenched his jaw, forcing a smile as another business partner shook his hand. 'No. Stop thinking about it.'

You had no power. You’d disappeared months ago.

Silco? Sure, he was the face of Zaun, but Zaun was a filthy undercity, a mess of chaos, drugs, and violence. They had no real seat at the table here.

Jayce and Mel were untouchable, they had everything the power, the money, the public’s love, the Council’s authority, the military force.

So why was his heart pounding like something terrible was coming?

He caught himself glancing over his shoulder more than once.

Imagined the look on your face, the one Viktor called dangerous.

Jayce straightened his shoulders, pulling Mel closer as she leaned against him, whispering something in his ear.

He smiled again, flashing that confident, charming grin.

But somewhere deep inside, a voice whispered, 'You are not safe.'

Days slipped by,

At first, Jayce was restless, every time he stepped outside, he expected to see you lurking in the crowd, to hear your voice behind him, to receive some message. But nothing came.

No letters, no threats, no rumors.

Silco stayed quiet in Zaun. You? Vanished again, like a shadow that never existed.

And slowly, Jayce began to breathe easier.

He buried himself in his work at the lab, spent long hours with Viktor improving Hextech developments, focused on expanding Piltover’s progress, he went home each night to Mel, whose smile was softer now, whose touch had grown warmer.

The proposal had worked, she stayed close, eyes glowing when she looked at him, lips pressing against his cheek when they walked together through the Council halls.

The tension, the distance were gone, Jayce had done what he needed to do, he was happy.

Sometimes, when he lay awake at night, he wondered if his mind had just been playing tricks on him.

Why had he panicked so much at the thought of you?

He was done with you.

Your POV.

The next day, you paced your apartment, adrenaline pumping through your veins. You had been up since dawn, overseeing the final preparations.

Your apartment door swung open, one of Silco’s trusted wingman stepped inside.

“They’re ready,” he said. “Waiting for your word.”

You grabbed your coat and walked out without hesitation.

By the time you reached the abandoned warehouse just on the edge of the Zaun-Piltover border, a crowd of your men and women waited, armed and eager.

You stood before them, your voice slicing through the air. “Tonight, Piltover learns what it feels like to live in fear.”

They shifted, murmuring among themselves.

“No more starving in the shadows,” you continued. “No more begging for scraps. We’ll rattle their gates, we’ll shatter their peace. But only under one condition, you follow my orders, every step, every strike. Understand?”

A chorus of shouts exploded in agreement.

Sevika, leaning on the side, smirked. “Didn’t think you had this fire in you.”

You shot her an intense look. “Watch me.”

By nightfall, the chaos began.

The first reports broke through the news.

“North market is on fire, people are running wild.”

“Council building’s under siege, the enforcers are overwhelmed.”

“Another explosion by the docks.”

You stood calmly in an overlook spot near the heart of Piltover, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the glowing city.

Sevika appeared beside you.

“Piltover’s golden boy is probably shitting himself right now,” she chuckled.

You smirked faintly, “he should be.”

Suddenly, another runner approached, panting.

“They’ve sent enforcers to calm the streets, but they’re spread thin, they weren’t ready.”

You turned slightly, your voice low. “Of course they weren’t. Let them run in circles.”

Sevika laughed, “you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

You tilted your head, “I’m just getting started.” you said with a smile. “Jayce will regret everything.”

Sevika nodded, her eyes glinting with amusement. “And Silco’s got a front-row seat to this show, you’ve got everything you need.”

You watched the chaos unfold with a sense of satisfaction, but a small part of you knew this was only the beginning. You weren’t just causing riots, you were sowing the seeds for something far larger. Something far more personal.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” you warned Sevika, eyes narrowing as another report crackled through. “This city won’t burn easily, but they’ll learn. They’ll all learn what happens when they push too far.”

Jayce's POV.

The tension in the council chamber was suffocating. Piltover, for all its wealth and power, was unraveling right before his eyes, smoke rose in the distance.

Jayce stood at the head of the table, eyes fixed on the chaos outside the window. He had spent years making Piltover the shining city it was. The safest, most prosperous place in the continent. People looked to them for guidance, for protection. But now?

Now it was crumbling.

Mel stood beside him, arms crossed. She hadn’t said much since the rioting started, but her eyes were constantly darting between the reports and the window. She was worried too. They both were.

“Where are the enforcers?” Jayce snapped, his voice sharper than he intended.

Mel shifted, her gaze hardening. “They’re overwhelmed, you know how few we have for situations like this. They’re scattered.”

“I know how many we have,” Jayce said, clenching his fists. “I know what we’ve built here, Mel. We should be prepared for something like this.”

The thought of what was happening outside, the riots, the fires, the mobs tearing through the city’s streets, made his stomach twist. Why now? Piltover had always been safe. Their defenses were impenetrable. Their citizens secure. Yet now, everything was in chaos. They were being attacked on all fronts, but no one knew who was behind it.

“We need to do something,” he muttered, pacing. “Something big.”

“Mr. Talis,” Salo's voice cut through the tension, “if this is what I think it is, we may have a bigger problem than just ‘doing something.’”

Jayce turned sharply. “What do you mean?”

Salo's eyes were distant, but there was a weight to his words. “This isn’t just some random group of criminals. Someone has organized this, and whoever it is, they’re not afraid of us.”

Jayce's heart skipped a beat. “What are you saying? We need to get this under control. I’ve spent too long helping build Piltover to watch it burn in a day.”

“You can’t fix this with brute force,” Shoola said, voice low. “Not if this is a carefully planned rebellion, we need to understand who’s pulling the strings before it gets worse.”

Mel stepped forward. “And how do you propose we do that? The enforcers are on the streets, but they’re too scattered. Piltover’s never seen anything like this, who could be behind it?”

Jayce’s mind raced. He had been a part of Piltover’s highest councils, worked tirelessly to make sure they were always a step ahead. But this?

This felt different.

“I don’t care who they are,” Jayce bit out. “I want them found, and I want them punished.”

But even as the words left his mouth, he couldn’t shake the feeling in his gut, an uncertainty that something was off. Who would do this? Why now?

Jayce turned back to the window, staring out at the fires. The city was in chaos. But in the back of his mind, something kept eating at him. He couldn’t ignore it.

Silco.

He didn’t have any evidence, but his gut told him something was wrong. Silco had always been a shadow over Zaun, and Jayce had never fully trusted him. But why would he target Piltover now?

“Do you think Silco could be behind this?” Jayce’s voice was quieter now. He hated the idea, but it made sense. Zaun had its own reasons to strike.

Viktor said nothing for a moment, then shook his head slowly. “It’s possible, but we can’t jump to conclusions. We need to find evidence.”

Jayce was silent, but in the back of his mind, he knew something wasn’t right. And as much as he hated it, he couldn’t shake the feeling that you were somehow tangled up in this.

You with Silco.

"Are we just going to wait and watch Piltover burn?" Mel asked, her voice hardening.

"No," Jayce said, "we’re going to fight back, we’ll put every resource we have into stopping this. No more waiting."

Chapter Text

Jayce's POV.

The chaos had not stopped, it had been seven days since the first flames lit up Piltover’s night sky, and every attempt to contain the riots failed miserably.

The sun barely had a chance to rise over Piltover before Jayce was already on his feet.

He stood near the council tower’s great window, arms crossed, his golden armor gleaming in the morning light. The city below him simmered with unrest, another fire broke out near the Southern District that night, the smog of smoke still lingered in the air.

Mel entered the room behind him, “You didn’t sleep again.”

Jayce didn’t turn around. “Not until this ends.”

He heard her heels click softly on the floor as she crossed the room.

“They’re getting bolder,” she said, scanning a report in her hands. “Another bombing, this time near the Academy. They’re pushing inward now.”

Jayce turned to her, jaw clenched, “I’m done waiting around. We know who’s behind this.”

Mel looked at him, “you think we do.”

“I know it,” he said coldly. “Silco.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You think Zaun would attack Piltover now, when you two have a fragile agreement in place? Why?”

“Because he’s never cared about peace,” Jayce snapped. “This whole time he’s been biding his time, waiting for the right moment to strike. We handed him breathing room, and he turned it into an opportunity.”

She didn’t push further.

Jayce turned to one of the enforcers standing nearby, “find him, drag him in, I want him in front of me today.”

The enforcer saluted immediately. “Yes, Councilor.”

Later that day, 

It didn’t take long, Silco wasn’t hiding.

When the enforcers found him, he was in a bar, completely unbothered. He didn’t fight, didn’t argue, In fact, he smirked.

“You really think this is how we solve things?” he had asked one of the enforcers, amusement curling in his voice as he calmly stubbed out his cigar. “Fine, take me to your golden boy.”

Now, he was being marched up the steps of the Council tower, surrounded by armed guards. 

When he stepped into the Council’s private hall, Jayce was already waiting, alone.

The guards closed the doors behind them.

Jayce stepped forward, towering over him. “What the fuck is going on, Silco?”

Silco tilted his head, looking around the room with a half-smile. “My, my, quite the reception. You’ll make a man blush.”

“Enough,” Jayce growled. “Zaun is lighting my city on fire, people are scared. And you’re the only one with the power to organize something like this.”

“I see,” Silco said, slowly pacing the room, hands behind his back. “And so naturally, you assume it’s me. Because chaos equals Zaun, and Zaun equals me.”

Jayce stepped in front of him. “Don’t play games.”

Silco’s smile faded just slightly. “You think I’d attack a city I’ve been trying to coexist with? Hmm. Either you don’t know me at all, or you’re blinded by something else.”

Jayce said nothing, his chest rising and falling with anger.

“You’ve built your empire on glass, Councilor. And now you’re shocked it’s cracking.”

Jayce’s jaw clenched. “You expect me to believe this just isn’t you?”

Silco spoke in amusement, “no, I expect you to think, Councilor, but clearly, that’s in short supply these days.”

Jayce stepped forward again, hand twitching at his side. “Don’t test me.”

Silco laughed once, “you’re already being tested, Jayce. And you’re failing. Tell me, do you truly believe that storm outside is mine?”

“You’ve always wanted Piltover to fall.”

“I’ve wanted it to listen.”

“You’ve wanted power,” Jayce snapped.

“And you haven’t?” Silco’s eyes narrowed, “you, who preaches progress, who builds weapons and calls them diplomacy. You look down on Zaun, on me, but at least I don’t lie to myself about what I am.”

Jayce’s fists curled. “This isn’t a philosophy debate, Piltover is burning. And you’re the only one with the motive.”

A pause.

“I had motive, yes. Once. Before she came to me.”

Jayce’s breath caught in his throat,

“Oh?” he said, “that made you uncomfortable.”

“Don’t bring her into this.”

“She came to me,” Silco continued, circling Jayce now. “Not for shelter, not for sympathy. But for power, for resources. And I gave her everything she asked for, no questions, no judgment, not like you.”

Jayce’s voice was lower now. “Shut up.”

“You were her sun, Jayce,” Silco said softly. “But even the sun burns when you stare too long, she looked away, and found me.”

Jayce stepped forward, grabbing him by the collar, slamming him against the wall. The guards moved forward but Silco simply smiled, unbothered, his hands didn’t even rise.

“I’m arresting you,” Jayce spoke.

Silco’s smile widened. “Of course you are, it’s easier to put me in chains than admit you lost control.”

“You’re a liar.”

“And you’re a coward.” Silco’s eyes glinted, “scared of the truth, scared of what she’s become without you.”

Jayce’s grip tightened, then released. He stepped back, chest heaving.

“Take him to Stillwater,” he ordered the guards.

They moved in, but Silco kept his gaze locked on Jayce’s.

As they dragged him away, Silco called back over his shoulder.

“She’s the fire now, Jayce. And you lit the match.”

The doors slammed shut behind him.

Jayce stood in the center of the room long after the doors closed behind Silco.

'No, he was lying, manipulating.'

He always did.

He turned away from the door, pacing. He could still hear Silco’s voice in his head:

'She came to me.'

Jayce shook his head. No, that wasn’t you. You wouldn’t go to him, not Silco, not after everything you’d been through.

He stopped, staring at the stained glass window.

But how would Silco know about your relationship? The closeness? The things only the two of you shared in quiet corners of the lab, in long walks after midnight?

He shouldn’t know any of that.

Unless you told him.

Jayce shook the thought away. No, you were naïve sometimes, too trusting. Silco was clever, he got into your head, that’s what this was. He was using you to get to him.

“Fuck,” Jayce muttered, running a hand down his face.

He walked to the side table, poured himself a drink with a trembling hand. He downed it in one go, throat burning.

Silco wanted him to question you. He wanted to fracture what little foundation Jayce had left.

It was a tactic, a psychological play, classic Zaunite manipulation.

That’s all it was.

He leaned both hands on the table now, head hanging low between his shoulders. Eyes burning.

'She’s the fire now, Jayce. And you lit the match.'

“No,” he whispered, to no one.

Your POV.

"You’re bleeding," Sevika muttered, lighting a cigar as she leaned back in her chair, eyeing your torn sleeve.

You glanced down, the rip in your coat was minor. "Barely. Some idiot tried to throw a brick at me. Missed, shame."

Sevika laughed. “He’ll regret it, if he’s still breathing.”

You smirked, tossing your gloves onto the desk. “He’s not.”

Just then, the door swung open. One of Silco’s men stepped inside,

“They got him,” he said. “Silco. The enforcers came. Dragged him out of a bar.”

Sevika raised an eyebrow but didn’t move. You blinked once, then slowly started laughing.

The man looked between you both, confused. “Did you hear me? They arrested him.”

“Yeah,” you said, still smiling, “I heard.”

Sevika exhaled smoke and leaned forward. “And?”

You shrugged. “Let them have their little victory, they think taking Silco off the board means the game’s over.”

“They think he started the riot,” the man added, like that would shock you.

“Oh, I know,” you said, walking around the desk and taking Silco’s seat now. You rested your boots on the edge of the table, “they’re going to love what comes next.”

Sevika chuckled, “you’re twisted.”

“I’m honest.” You tilted your head. “Let them panic, let them scramble. I want them pointing fingers at the wrong man, by the time they figure it out, it’ll be too late.”

The man still looked stunned. “But the Council’s furious, they’ll tighten everything. Cut us off, we’ll be flooded with enforcers.”

“And they’ll be looking in all the wrong places,” you cut in, “still thinking Silco’s pulling strings, still thinking I’m some helpless little assistant crying over Jayce Talis.” You smiled. “Let them.”

Sevika looked at you for a moment. “He doesn’t know, does he?”

“Jayce?” You leaned back, folding your hands. “No, and that’s the best part.”

Sevika raised a brow. “You sure you’re not doing this to get back at him?”

You met her eyes. “I’m doing this because he needed to be reminded of what I’m capable of.”

Sevika grinned. “There it is.”

Jayce's POV.

Jayce paced across the room, fists clenched, voice tight with disbelief.

“He said it was her, Viktor.”

Viktor looked up, brow furrowed, “what do you mean?”

Jayce turned to face him fully. “Silco. When I had him in the Council. He said she came to him. That he gave her the power to do this, the riots, the chaos. All of it.”

Viktor blinked, silent for some time, “that’s impossible.”

“Right? That’s what I thought!” Jayce snapped, running a hand through his hair, “she’s not like that.”

“She wouldn’t hurt people,” Viktor said softly, shaking his head. “She hated violence.”

“Exactly.” Jayce nodded, almost too fast, like trying to convince himself. “She couldn’t have been involved, maybe Silco’s trying to mess with me.”

Viktor paused again. “Unless something changed.”

Jayce stared at him. “What do you mean?”

“She disappeared, Jayce,” Viktor said carefully. “Walked away from everything, our research, the Academy, from us. People don’t just do that unless they have a reason.”

Jayce fell silent.

Then Viktor stood, reaching for his coat. “There’s only one way to find out.”

Jayce blinked. “What are you saying?”

“I say we go to the Undercity. We find her, we ask her ourselves.”

Later in Zaun, 

They moved through the alleys of the Undercity,

“Are you sure this is safe?” Jayce muttered.

Viktor didn’t answer, he was focused. 

Then they turned a corner and froze.

You stood at the far end of the alley, backlit by a flickering neon sign. There was something haunting about the way the light played off your face, your features sharper, more sculpted. Your clothes darker, sleeker, you didn’t just look different.

You felt different.

Jayce's breath caught in his throat, even Viktor seemed stunned into silence.

You smiled when you saw them, slow and unbothered, like you’d expected this.

Jayce stepped forward, skipping greetings,

“Are you the one behind the riots?”

You blinked once, then let out a laugh.

“Riots?” you echoed. “ why would I be behind them?” You gestured vaguely around you. “I’m literally a nobody in here.”

Jayce’s jaw clenched. “Cut the act.”

You raised a brow. “What act?”

“Silco said you came to him, that you started this.”

You tilted your head, “I worked for him. Briefly, that’s not illegal, is it?”

“Why?” Viktor spoke up now, voice softer but firm. “Why Silco, of all people?”

You looked between them, eyes glinting. “Because he offered me what no one else did.”

Jayce took a step closer. “Which was?”

“Respect,” you said,

Viktor frowned, but you kept going.

“I was tired of being everyone’s side project, tired of being your shadow, Jayce.”

Jayce looked stricken. “You think that’s what you were to me?”

You didn’t answer. Instead, you smiled. “Maybe you should’ve asked me that before I disappeared.”

He stared at you like you were a stranger. Because to him, you were.

“I don’t want to believe it’s you,” Jayce said quietly. “I don’t.”

You took a step back, smile never leaving your lips. “Then don’t.”

“Tell me it’s not,” he whispered. “Tell me you’re not behind this.”

You looked him in the eyes and said calmly, “I’m not behind anything, Jayce. I’m just living, finally.”

Then you turned, walking away, your voice drifting back;

“But maybe ask yourself why you need so badly for me to still be the same girl.”

Jayce stood frozen in place long after you disappeared into the streets. He was staring at the spot you had just occupied, jaw tight.

“She lied,” he muttered. “She’s hiding something.”

Viktor sighed beside him, shaking his head slowly. “No, Jayce. She told the truth.”

Jayce snapped his head toward him. “Are you kidding? Did you see her? She looked, she looked like-”

“Someone who’s changed,” Viktor finished calmly. “But change doesn’t equal guilt.”

Jayce paced again, hands on his hips. “She laughed, she mocked me. The girl I knew wouldn’t have done that.”

“And that’s why you think she’s the enemy now?” Viktor spoke, “because she didn’t fall apart when you showed up?”

Jayce flinched.

“You’re projecting,” Viktor added.

“I’m trying to protect the city.”

“No,” Viktor said, voice quieter now. “You’re trying to protect your version of her.”

Jayce ran both hands through his hair. “Silco said she started this. That she came to him, he named her.”

“And since when do we trust Silco?” Viktor asked sharply. “Jayce, listen to yourself. Do you truly believe she’s capable of leading an uprising? Commanding the Undercity? Zaun doesn’t follow strangers. It follows symbols, power, fear, connections. She doesn’t have that, not yet.”

Jayce’s face twisted. “But what if she’s being used? What if he’s manipulating her? Silco’s good at that.”

“Maybe,” Viktor allowed. “But maybe she’s not being used. Maybe she finally stopped letting you and me use her too.”

“That’s not fair.”

“No,” Viktor said softly, “it’s not, and neither was how we treated her. She was always walking behind us, Jayce. Following our lead, playing small for our comfort.”

Jayce looked away.

Viktor stepped closer, more gently now. “She’s not the same, but that doesn’t mean she’s our enemy.”

Jayce’s voice cracked slightly. “Then why won’t she tell me the truth?”

“Because maybe,” Viktor said, “she doesn’t owe you the truth anymore.”

Jayce looked back toward the alley  where you had vanished and whispered

“Then I don’t even know who she is.”

Viktor sighed, “maybe it’s time you learn.”

The city was burning.

From the high window of their apartment, Mel stood with her arms wrapped tightly around herself, gaze fixed out over the chaos below.

She didn’t turn when the door opened.

Jayce stepped inside slowly, Mel finally glanced back. “Did you find her?”

Jayce nodded once. “Yeah.”

Mel looked at him fully now, carefully. “And?”

Jayce swallowed. His voice came out low, shaken. “It’s not her.”

Mel blinked. “You’re sure?”

He stared out the window, “I saw her, talked to her. She was calm distant, she laughed when I asked. Like the idea that she could even start a riot was absurd.”

“And you believe her?”

Jayce exhaled. “I do.”

Mel was quiet. “What changed your mind?”

Jayce’s jaw tightened. “Because I saw her eyes, Mel. And for the first time, she looked at me like a stranger, not with hurt or anger. Just like I meant nothing anymore.”

A moment passed.

“She’s not behind this,” he said again, “she doesn’t have the reach, the network. She wasn’t trying to break Piltover, I mean she already let me break her.”

Mel lowered her eyes.

“She was always the one trying to hold things together,” Jayce went on, then the room fell silent.

Jayce sat down on the edge of the couch, burying his face in his hands. “Gods, what did I do to her?”

Mel slowly walked over, hesitating before placing a hand on his shoulder.

“You made a choice,” she said. “And so did she, you chose me, and she chose herself.”

Jayce looked up at her, eyes bloodshot.

“Do you regret it?” Mel asked quietly.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.

Outside, Piltover burned.

And somewhere beneath the chaos, the girl who had once loved him fully, was becoming someone else entirely.

Chapter Text

The room was filled with shouting.

Councilors banged fists against the table, papers scattered, voices rising over one another. Maps of Piltover were spread across the table, marked..

“The northern docks are gone,” Councilor Shoola snapped. “They lit the shipment yard on fire again.”

“We’ve positioned every enforcer we have!” another barked. “It’s not enough, they’re hitting faster, splitting into smaller groups, we can’t pin them down.”

Jayce stood silent at the head of the table, jaw clenched,

“This isn’t just a riot anymore,” Mel said quietly, her voice cutting through the chaos. “This is organized, coordinated.”

“And Silco’s still locked up,” Councilor Hoskel added, “so if it’s not him...”

They all turned to Jayce.

He didn’t speak, because he didn’t know anymore.

Your POV,

The bar reeked of smoke, the lights were dim, flickering above as the floor vibrated from distant booms somewhere up in Piltover.

You were slouched in the booth, glass in hand, legs kicked up over the seat. Sevika sat across from you, holding a drink and watching the smoke from her cigar.

"Piltover’s losing its shit," she said, smirking, “they’re desperate, council’s panicking, enforcers running in circles, they don’t know what to do.”

You took another sip, savoring it. “Good, let them sweat.”

Sevika leaned forward, resting her arms on the table. “You’re really enjoying this, huh?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” you said. “They always underestimated me, thought I was nothing, just some dumb bitch in the background.”

Sevika smirked, “not anymore.”

“Nope.” You smiled lazily. “Now they’re struggling while I’m drinking.”

She raised her glass in response, “to chaos.”

You clinked hers, “to idiots.”

You both laughed,

After a moment, she leaned back and asked, “so what now? What’s the next move?”

You waved a hand. “Not now Sev, I’m off duty, I came here to drink, not plot.”

Sevika raised an eyebrow, “you? Taking a break?”

“I can be fun,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Prove it.”

You grinned, “you buying the next round?”

“Tch, you’re the boss now, aren’t you?”

“Exactly,” you said, sliding your empty glass toward her, “so go be useful.”

Sevika grunted as she stood, but she was smiling too, “spoiled.”

Sevika came back with your drink, sliding it toward you as she sat back down.

“Cheers to your spoiled ass,” she muttered.

You raised the glass, “to being right all the damn time.”

As you took a sip, your eyes drifted lazily around the bar,

Then Sevika nudged you slowly with her boot under the table.

“Look, over there, guy by the wall.”

You turned your head slightly, spotting him, a Zaunite with the funniest set of ears you’d seen in a while, like wings.

“OH MY,” you murmured. “His ears are so big he could probably hear colors.”

Sevika laughed, covering her mouth with her cigar hand, “Bitch.”

“No, like, do you think he flaps them when he runs?”

She snorted. “Like a bird, takes off every time he hears a loud noise.”

You were both grinning now, trying not to laugh too hard. You took another slow sip, hiding your smile behind the glass.

You unlocked the door to your apartment and pushed it open with your shoulder, tossing your keys on the table.

Sevika followed you in,

“Didn’t think you’d invite me over,” she said, glancing around.

You kicked off your boots and flopped onto the couch, “too much noise in that bar, and besides you’re not that annoying.”

She smirked as she closed the door behind her, “that almost sounded like a compliment.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

She sat beside you, legs spread, arms draped over the couch like she’d done this a hundred times.

You picked up the remote and scrolled through the mess of illegal films patched together from old Piltover data caches, “you staying or what?”

Sevika raised an eyebrow. “You asking me to spend the night?”

You looked over at her, “to watch a movie.”

A moment.

Then she gave a soft snort. “Right, a movie.”

You ignored her and hit play on some old noir film with flickering black-and-white frames and a plot neither of you would probably follow, the volume was low.

Sevika stretched an arm behind you on the couch.

You didn’t move away, instead, you sank just a little deeper into the cushions and muttered, “Don’t steal the blanket.”

“Don’t act like you’re not already warm,” she shot back, but tossed you the other end anyway, you pulled it over your legs.

The movie played in the background, mostly forgotten now,

You shifted under the blanket and kicked Sevika’s leg with your foot.

She glanced down, “the hell was that for ?”

You did it again, harder this time, “move over.”

“I’m not even on your side.”

“You’re breathing too loud.”

She looked at you like she couldn’t believe the audacity. “You’ve got one more time to try me.”

You grinned, “or what?”

Sevika didn’t answer.

She grabbed a pillow and swung it at your face. You blocked it with your forearm and kicked her again, half-laughing as you both started to shove at each other like teenagers.

Sevika lunged forward, pressing you down into the couch cushions. You twisted, grabbing a handful of her coat and pulling her off balance, sending her sprawling onto the floor beside the couch.

"Get off!!!" you grunted, scrambling to your feet.

She just laughed as she pushed herself up, a wide grin on her face. "You fight dirty, I'll give you that."

"You started it," you shot back, grabbing a pillow of your own.

She just shrugged, a cocky half-smile on her face as she straightened her coat. "So what? You gonna hit me with a pillow?"

You didn't answer, you swung it at her face as hard as you could. She caught it in a single motion, then launched herself at you again, tackling you to the ground with a grunt, sending both of you into a fit of laughter.

You lay there for a moment, the fight forgotten, both of you breathing heavily, looking up at the ceiling.

"Say sorry," she said, a hint of amusement in her voice.

"Make me."

She just grinned, a knowing look in her eyes.

You finally broke the silence, "Don't you have a couch in your apartment, Sev?"

"Yeah," she said, "but you have a movie."

"It's about to be half-price, you know that right?"

"Yeah," she said, "that's the point."

She stood up, offering you a hand. "Come on, before you get comfortable down there."

You took her hand, pulling yourself up from the floor. You both settled back on the couch. 

Next morning,

The morning light leaked in through the curtains,

You squinted against it, groaning softly as you sat up. Sevika was still asleep, one arm flopped over her eyes, her hair a mess, mouth slightly open, you smiled to yourself.

Quietly, you slipped out from under the blanket, grabbed one of your oversized shirts, and went barefoot into the kitchen.

Breakfast wasn’t fancy, just eggs, bread, whatever you had left that hadn’t expired. You hummed while cooking, the pan sizzling as the apartment slowly started smelling like actual food instead of smoke.

Behind you, a thick voice finally mumbled, “You domestic now?”

You glanced over your shoulder.

Sevika stood in the doorway, still in yesterday’s clothes, hair sticking up in places, one sock missing, she scratched her head like she wasn’t used to waking up somewhere soft.

You grinned, “I have layers.”

She stepped closer, “Morning.”

“Hungry?”

“For food, yeah.”

You giggled and handed her a plate, you both sat down and ate in silence for a while.

After breakfast, you dragged her to the bathroom with you, she rolled her eyes but followed.

“You’re weird,” she said, watching you turn on the shower.

“You slept in the same bed as me, and ate my eggs,” you said, stepping in, “you’re in too deep to call me weird now.”

She just groaned and stepped in behind you, the shower wasn’t big enough for two grown adults, so it was mostly elbows and complaints.

“WATCH IT, your hair’s attacking me.”

“It’s not my fault your broad ass is in the way.”

“I’m literally standing still.”

“Then move still somewhere else.”

Afterward, you both got dressed, you tossed her a clean shirt and looked around.

“Uh,” she said, digging through the pile, “You got pants or...?”

“None that’ll fit you,” you said, barely hiding your smile. “But”

You walked over and handed her a pair of your underwear.

Sevika raised an eyebrow. “You serious?”

You nodded, deadpan. “They're soft.”

She held them up, “these are like child-sized.”

“They stretch.”

“Not that much.”

“Oh, c’mon, for me.”

She stared at you for a moment, then sighed, “you’re lucky I like you.”

You watched her try to put them on, watched them immediately fight for their lives on her hips.

“They’re biting me,” she muttered, twisting awkwardly. “This is disrespectful.”

You laughed so hard you had to sit on the floor, she looked at you, but even she couldn’t stop smiling, “Don’t get used to this.”

“Oh, I’m framing this memory forever.”

She gave you a glare, “I hate you.”

Chapter Text

Jayce's POV,

The shouting in the Council chamber was no longer just panicked, it was desperate. Jayce stood at the head of the table, he had no plan, no answers, nothing. Outside, the city bled money. The reports were terrible, the grand trading houses, bankrupted overnight. The Enforcers were still in chaos, unable to find the source. Jayce felt the weight of Piltover’s collapse on his shoulders, an ache far worse than any physical wound.

“We are out of options!” Mel’s voice, usually so composed, was terrified. “Every contingency plan has failed. We can’t fight a ghost!”

“We need to offer a bounty,” Councilor Shoola cried out, her eyes wide with terror. “Promise a fortune to anyone who can find who is doing this!”

“A fortune in what, Shoola? Monopoly money?” Hoskel countered, slamming a fist on the table. “Our coffers are empty, our credibility is gone.”

A desperate, fragile silence fell over the room.

Finally, Mel stepped forward, her voice tense. “It’s our only play. We have to make a public broadcast. We can’t offer money, but we can offer what we have left, Authority.”

Jayce looked at her, stunned. “Authority?”

“Yes,” she said, her eyes fixed on the other councilors. “We will offer a seat on this Council, and a position of power to anyone who can bring an end to this. We will give them access to our resources, to our data, to our systems, no questions asked, no conditions. We make them an equal, a partner, if they can stop this collapse.”

The councilors looked at each other, their initial shock turning to an agreement. It was the only option they had left. Jayce said nothing, his own mind blank with defeat. They had nothing to lose but the city itself.

The broadcast was prepared. A signal was sent across Piltover, interrupting the news reports of more fires and chaos. All across the city, on public screens and private terminals, a solemn message appeared.

The face of Mel Medarda, usually so confident, now looked terrified.

"Citizens of Piltover," she began, her voice resonating with a practiced authority that couldn’t quite mask the fear beneath it. "Our city is under attack. These acts of coordinated sabotage have brought us to a standstill. Our enforcers are overwhelmed, and our resources are stretched thin."

Jayce, watching from the Council Chamber, felt a cold dread settle in his stomach. The words were a public admission of failure.

"We have reached our limit," Mel continued, her eyes fixed on the camera. "Therefore, we are offering a formal plea to all. To anyone who can bring an end to this chaos, to anyone who can stop the bleeding, the Council will grant a seat and a position of power, with full access to our systems and resources. There will be no questions and no conditions. The one who saves Piltover will become its partner."

The message ended, The screens flickered back to reports of the ongoing chaos, but the words hung in the air, a profound declaration of desperation.

Your POV,

In a dark, quiet room deep in Zaun, you watched the broadcast on a small flickering screen, Sevika was beside you, her eyes reflecting the glowing screen.

When the broadcast ended, she turned to you, a slow grin spreading across her face. "Well, what do you know? They did it."

You didn’t answer. A slow, chilling smile of your own stretched across your lips. It was done. All your planning, all your cunning, had led to this moment. They had handed you the keys to the city.

You stood up, your dark coat sweeping around your legs as you moved toward the door. You had a city to save, A city to seize.

The walk from Zaun to the heart of Piltover felt like a trip from one life to another.

When you reached the towering doors of the Council building, the enforcers standing guard immediately blocked your path.

“This is a restricted area,” one said, his voice hard, “Council is in an emergency session. You can’t be here.”

“I’m not here to stare at their gilded cages,” you said, your voice calm and clear. “I’m here to help them.”

The enforcers exchanged a look, one of them giving a low chuckle. “Help? You?”

You met his gaze. “I can end this. I can stop what’s happening to your city.”

“The only thing a Zaunite like you can do is start a fight,” the other enforcer scoffed, taking a step closer. “Move along, or we’ll have to get rough.”

You stood your ground. “Your councilors are desperate. They’ve promised a seat on their table and a position of power to anyone who can bring an end to the chaos, I’m here to claim it.”

The enforcers’ faces went from amused to hardened. They had just heard the broadcast. But the idea that a single person from the Undercity could solve the problem was laughable.

“Listen, we don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but you need to leave. Now,” the first enforcer warned, placing a hand on the hilt of his weapon.

Just as the second enforcer stepped forward to physically remove you, a familiar voice cut through the tension. “What is going on here?”

Jayce walked out of the building’s grand entrance, followed by Viktor. Jayce's face was etched with exhaustion, his golden armor dull from a long day of a crisis he couldn’t stop. His eyes landed on you, and he froze.

“Y/N?” he breathed, his voice a mix of disbelief and fear.

You smiled faintly. "Hello, Jayce."

Jayce looked at the enforcers, then back at you, a thousand questions in his eyes. “Why are you here?”

You didn’t answer him. You looked at the enforcers instead, your voice even and calm. “Tell him. I told them I could stop it al, told them I could save Piltover from itself.”

The enforcers just stared, caught off guard by the surreal situation.

Jayce’s gaze hardened. He remembered the calm demeanor, the blank look, the lie you told him in the alley. It had been enough to convince him then, but now, watching you stand so confidently at the doors of his city, his gut twisted. He wanted to turn you away, to send you back to Zaun, but the fear in the pit of his stomach was so great that he couldn't, This was the only lead he had.

“Let her in,” he said, his voice flat.

The enforcers looked at each other, then at you, their arrogance replaced with confusion. They obeyed, stepping aside and opening the door.

You walked past them without a word, your gaze fixed on Jayce. Viktor followed behind, as he watched you. Jayce led you through the grand, silent halls of the Council building. The silence was heavy, broken only by the echo of your steps. He didn’t look at you, he didn't say anything.

You were no longer the girl he knew, not the apprentice he’d taught, not the lover who used to fall asleep in his arms. You were a stranger in a building you had once called home, the air around you was still, even as the world around you burned.

When you reached the doors of the Council Chamber, Jayce finally stopped. He reached for the handle, his hand trembling slightly. He looked at you, and for the first time, a question entered his eyes that wasn’t one of anger or confusion, but of pure terror.

"Who are you?" he whispered.

You met his gaze,

"You've been asking that for a long time, Jayce," you said, your voice soft, "Only now you're finally listening."

You didn't wait for his response, you simply reached for the heavy door to the Council chamber and pushed it open. The room was a mess of frantic voices and scattered papers. Every head turned as you stepped inside, the arguing dying instantly.

Jayce, still frozen in the doorway, was a ghost of a man. The councilors were confused, their eyes darting from your calm face to Jayce’s defeated expression.

Mel was the first to speak. “Y/N? What is the meaning of this?”

You walked to the center of the room, taking in their faces, the maps on the table now marked with red slashes of financial ruin.

“I heard your broadcast,” you said simply, “Your offer of a seat at this table for anyone who can stop what is happening to Piltover.”

Councilor Hoskel scoffed. “And you expect us to believe a Zaunite like you can do that?”

You looked at him, “I don’t expect you to believe me. I expect you to choose between your pride and your city.”

“What is your price?” Mel asked, 

“I can make it all stop,” you stated, your gaze sweeping over every face in the room. “The bleeding, the chaos, the economic collapse. All of it.” You gestured vaguely to the ruined reports scattered on the table. “And in return, you will give me control of Piltover’s industrial resources, its financial systems, and its trade routes. I will have a seat at this table, and I will make any decision I deem necessary without question.”

The room erupted. “Are you insane?” Hoskel shrieked. “We’d be handing the keys to the city to a terrorist!!!!”

“This is ridiculous,” Jayce finally stepped into the room, his face pale with rage. “Mel, don’t listen to this. She’s bluffing, she has no idea what she’s talking about!”

Your smile widened, “I’m not bluffing. The attacks will stop, and they will never start again. That is my promise.”

The councilors looked at each other, their faces a mix of desperation and distrust. They knew it was insane, but their fear was quickly overpowering their pride.

Mel, saw it before anyone else. She looked from your calm, confident face to the frantic faces of her colleagues. “I am in favor of hearing her out.”

“Mel, no,” Jayce pleaded, his voice cracking. “You can’t, this is what she wants. She’s playing us.”

But it was too late. Hoskel had already spoken. “I agree. Anything is better than this.”

One by one, the other councilors nodded, their fear overpowering their pride. Jayce stood there, defeated, watching as a guard brought over a blank document and a pen. They were ready to sign, they were ready to surrender the city.

Jayce just watched, his fists clenched at his sides. He wanted to scream, to grab the document and tear it to shreds. But he knew it was pointless. He had no answers, no solutions, nothing to offer but his own defeat. He watched as the final councilor signed, completing the transfer of power.

You took the signed paper, a quiet flicker of triumph in your eyes. You didn’t even look at it, you just walked to a quiet corner of the room, sat down, and with a few clicks of your fingers, you issued a single command to your network.

‘STAND DOWN, MISSION COMPLETE'

Within minutes, the attacks ceased. The financial systems stabilized, the stock market began to climb. The relief in the room was visible, a collective exhalation of breath. The councilors, stunned, watched the data boards in the room flash green for the first time in a week.

Jayce walked over to you, “You did it. I don’t know how you did it, but it’s over. Now, give us our authority back.”

You simply smiled, rising from the chair, your movements slow,

“Oh, Jayce,” you said, “The problem isn’t solved, it’s just sleeping.”

You stepped past him and walked to the head of the Council table, taking your seat with the ease of a queen returning to her throne.

“You gave me a seat at this table,” you said, leaning forward, your hands folded. “And I told you I would step aside once the problem was solved.”

Your eyes met his.

“I am the problem, and I am not going anywhere.”

Sevika's POV,

The command center was a hive of wild energy, The Zaunites under your command, your loyal network of scrappers and saboteurs, were shouting out reports as they came in. The chaos was their music, Sevika stood at the heart of it all, her gaze fixed on a main screen displaying a map of Piltover. She watched the red dots, each representing a fire or an act of sabotage, multiply across the golden city.

Suddenly, a message cut through the noise, ‘STAND DOWN, MISSION COMPLETE'

The room went silent, the shouting stopped. It was an unnatural quiet, as if someone had hit a kill switch. A few seconds passed, then a full minute. The red dots on the map of Piltover weren't just holding steady, they were vanishing. One by one, the fires were dying out. The chaos, so loud and destructive just a moment ago, was gone.

A cheer erupted. A single man, then a woman, then a dozen, their shouts of disbelief and joy filling the room. They weren't just cheering for a job well done; they were cheering because the fighting was over.

"She did it," someone screamed, a woman who had lost her leg in a Hextech accident. "She won!"

"Piltover surrendered!" another shouted.

The cheers grew louder, hands were shaken, backs were slapped, and a dozen rough, tired faces turned to Sevika, all of them looking for a leader to praise.

"Hail Y/N!" one of them yelled, their voice cracking with emotion.

"HAIL Y/N!! THE QUEEN OF ZAUN!"

A sea of fists were raised in the air, not in anger, but in triumph. They saw the end of the conflict, the dawn of a new era, they thought the war was over.

Sevika didn't cheer. She watched them, she just watched the chaos of celebration unfold, a sense of satisfaction spreading through her. They were all celebrating, they didn't know the truth, they didn't know the real victory was still in the Council chambers, a world away.

She had been right, all along, she had been right. Y/N wasn't a girl. She was a force of nature. A mastermind, a brilliant, terrifying puppet master who had just played Piltover's leaders like a fiddle. The riots were never the goal. They were the key.

Sevika just stood there, the chorus of "Hail Y/N" ringing in her ears. She pulled a cigar from her pocket, lit it slowly, and took a long drag. Her eyes were fixed on the map of Piltover.