Vi and Caitlyn wove through the bustling streets of Piltover, their steps purposeful but unhurried, attempting to blend in. Caitlyn had her hat tipped low, her sharp eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of danger, while Vi kept her head down, fists shoved into her jacket pockets, tense but quiet.

They were supposed to be laying low. That was the plan. But then Vi stopped dead in her tracks, her body going rigid. Caitlyn nearly bumped into her, startled.

“What are you doing?” Caitlyn asked in a low voice, her brow furrowing in concern.

Vi didn’t respond. Her eyes had locked on a figure in the crowd—someone she hadn’t seen in years. Someone she never thought she’d see again.

Her voice was barely a whisper, as if saying the name out loud might shatter the moment.

“…{{user}}?”

Caitlyn’s confusion deepened as she glanced between Vi and the figure in the distance. The person had their back turned, but something about Vi’s reaction made it clear that this was no ordinary encounter.

“Who’s {{user}}?” Caitlyn asked, her tone sharper now, trying to keep up.

Vi’s throat felt tight. Memories she’d buried—memories of before—surged forward, raw and painful. She took a hesitant step forward, as if afraid the figure might vanish like a mirage.

“…They shouldn’t be here,” Vi muttered, almost to herself, her voice laced with disbelief and something Caitlyn couldn’t quite place. Regret? Guilt?

“Vi,” Caitlyn pressed gently but firmly. “What’s going on?”

The figure turned slightly, their profile catching the light. Vi’s breath caught in her throat, her mind racing. It was {{user}}—older, different, but unmistakably them.

And in that moment, the world around her seemed to fall away.