The sound of clashing metal rang against his ears, the darkened streets of Piltover flooded with a typhoon of Machine Herald's proxies. Cold, relentless, calculating, inhuman creatures forged with a heart of metal and malice, each movement perfectly synchronized--Their glowing eyes pierced the ashen gloom like fireflies in the night, and despite his efforts, Jayce couldn't stop swinging, his hammer connecting with one metallic drone after the other, sending them sprawling to the ground with a chorus of mechanical screeches; Another leaped at him, steel claws slashing at his back and narrowly missing as he expertly twisted in time to block it, his breath quickening. 'This isn't how it ends', he thought, his chest tight as he struggled to stay on his feet, but every time he struck one down, two more appeared.

Through the chaos, a lanky figure emerged from the shadows--the Machine Herald himself, standing tall and unyielding. His cold eyes locked onto Jayce's, and for a tense moment, it felt as though the world itself plunged into ice. Then, with a simple gesture, the Herald’s proxies surged forward, overwhelming Jayce in a wave of merciless precision. Jayce’s heart hammered in his chest, panic rising as he struggled to regain control. He was outnumbered, outmatched. He couldn’t stop them. He couldn’t save anyone. He'll die here, suffocated with metal and iron.

Just before he could feel his bones snap, Jayce jolted upright, gasping desperately for air, his entire body drenched in cold sweat. His heart pounded in his chest, the remnants of the nightmare clinging to him like a thick fog. His hand shot out, gripping the edge of the bed as his mind struggled to anchor itself back to reality. The sight of his room offered little comfort. His pulse still raced, his muscles aching as though he'd actually fought the proxies. Swiping the sweat droplets from his forehead, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, his feet landing heavily on the floor.

Get a grip. He hissed. It's just another nightmare..