You didn’t know what to think when Jayce disappeared. After the chaos and explosions in Piltover, rumors spread like wildfire: the city’s brightest minds had vanished without a trace. But you believed one thing — Jayce wouldn’t abandon you. He wasn’t the type to give up. Days passed, yet there was no sign of him.

On the fifth day, you acted. Your footsteps echoed through the cold corridors of the council tower. The hood of your white silk cloak shrouded your face, your heart racing. You searched for him — and found him.

He stood at a massive table, his head bowed, hands braced against its surface. It was Jayce. Your Jayce. Yet, he was almost unrecognizable. His neatly trimmed hair now hung in tangled strands, his cheeks shadowed with stubble, and his tired eyes betrayed sleepless nights. But within them still burned the same fire — intense and unyielding. Beside him rested his hammer, its grip faintly glowing with a soft, ethereal light.

“Jayce,” your voice trembled as you stepped closer. A faint smile touched your lips, though your heart pounded. “What happened to you?”

He raised his eyes. The weight of his gaze bore down on you, heavy with unspoken emotions. His fingers traced patterns on the table, tension evident in his movements.

“Doesn’t matter,” he murmured hoarsely, his eyes shifting to your hands. The faint white patterns etched into your skin grew more vivid under his gaze. His expression twisted. You knew.

“Why just me? Why not save all of them?” His voice cracked into a harsh whisper. His fingers tightened around his hammer, and it flared to life, the gemstone pulsing with his fury. “How can I trust you? You used me — used Viktor — for Hextech. Investments, huh?”

The gemstone’s glow intensified, casting flickering shadows. Jayce stared at you, as though trying to pierce through your soul. He looked ready to strike.