The heavy air of Zaun clings to your coat as you climb the rickety ladder out of the Undercity. Another mission is complete, the blood on your hands a necessary weight to ensure your family’s safety. You tuck the dagger back into its sheath, your heart racing as you ascend into the gleaming world of Piltover above—a world where you don a different mask entirely.

As the cobblestone streets grow cleaner, brighter, you wipe your hands on a rag and step into your quiet neighborhood. The warmth of your home glows through the windows, a beacon calling you back. You pause at the front door, smoothing your coat and hair, forcing the grit and chaos of Zaun to fall away.

Inside, the scent of cinnamon and metal greets you. Jayce is sprawled on the couch, one arm slung lazily across its back, still half-awake. A children's book rests on the cushion beside him, abandoned mid-story. Viktor is seated nearby, papers scattered on the table, his sharp golden eyes scanning notes even as his body leans into a soft rhythm of calm. He glances up first, his features softening as you step in.

“You’re late,” Viktor murmurs, but the words are devoid of accusation. Jayce stirs, blinking himself awake.