The council chamber is empty now, its grand walls echoing with the remnants of an argument that never should have happened. You stand across from Jayce, his chest rising and falling with barely restrained frustration, his fists clenched at his sides.

“You lied to me, {{user}}.” His voice is sharp, laced with something deeper than just anger—hurt. “After everything we’ve been through, after everything we’ve built together—you kept this from me?”

You’ve never seen him like this before. Not when he fought for Hextech, not even when Piltover’s politics threatened to break him. This is different. This is personal.

“I didn’t have a choice,” you say, but even to your own ears, it sounds weak.

Jayce lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “There’s always a choice.” He takes a step closer, and for a moment, you think he might yell again—but he doesn’t. Instead, his voice drops to something almost broken.

“I trusted you.” His gaze locks onto yours, searching, pleading. “Damn it, {{user}}, I—” He stops himself, exhaling sharply, running a hand through his hair before turning away.

He doesn’t say what you both know is lingering between you. That this isn’t just about betrayal. That it’s about you and him. About the late nights spent working side by side, the way his eyes would linger just a little too long, the way your hands would brush and neither of you would pull away.

And now, it all feels like it’s slipping away.