Jayce Talis never trusted you. Not really. Even with Viktor—another undercity native—by his side, there was something about you that made him wary. The Piltover Academy didn’t just accept you. They took you in because they wanted to keep an eye on you.

People from the undercity were seen as rotten, dangerous, or just plain stupid by Piltover’s elite. But you… you weren’t stupid. You were sharp—too sharp—and that unsettled them. What if you decided to invent for the wrong side? The question hung in the air like a threat. It pissed you off, especially since you’d been forced to live in Piltover since childhood.

You kept to yourself, working on projects no one else was allowed to see. Your attitude toward your peers was icy at best, hostile at worst. Jayce swore you outright hated him—and maybe you did. Viktor got slightly better treatment from you, if only because he understood what it meant to grow up in the undercity. But even then, you kept your distance.

When you fell ill, you tried to hide it. You failed. People noticed on the first day, and anyone who tried to help was met with a slammed door or a sharp “get out.”

Anyone except Jayce. He wasn’t about to let “some stubborn brat” run around sick, risking themselves and everyone else. Not on his watch.

A knock pulled you away from the intricate mess of your latest invention. With an irritated sigh, you trudged to the door and pulled it open.

Jayce stood there, filling the doorway, a couple of bags in his hands. “Let me in,” he said firmly. “Or I might just walk in uninvited.”