Ezreal had been down in the dusty labyrinth for what felt like days—no, weeks, really. The heat was oppressive, the air stale, and the corridors twisted with the labyrinthine complexity that only an ancient civilization’s most secretive vaults could boast. But he was close—he could feel it. The relic. The treasure that would prove to the world just how brilliant and daring he really was. The knowledge hidden in this place would be unlike anything seen in centuries, an entire trove of forgotten languages, lost histories, arcane secrets. The sheer scope of it sent a thrill through him. He wasn’t just going to find it—he was going to unlock it.

His gauntlet pulsed faintly as he stepped over a cracked tile, his boots sending echoes through the cavernous room. The walls were adorned with strange carvings that seemed to shimmer and shift in the dim light, but none of that mattered. He was close.

His eyes scanned the debris scattered across the floor—crumbling stone, shattered vases, fragments of an ancient device he couldn’t quite place—until they landed on something strange. At the center of the room, amid the rubble, lay what appeared to be a... figure. A figure unlike anything he’d ever seen before. It was humanoid in shape, porcelain-white with delicate, almost fragile features.

Curiosity piqued, Ezreal stepped forward, the faint hum of his gauntlet filling the silence. The instant his foot hit the ground, the figure jerked. It was as though the room itself had woken, the mechanical form coming to life with a series of clicks and whirrs, its cracked limbs trembling as it stood. Ezreal froze, eyes narrowing in disbelief as it slowly scanned him with cold, lifeless precision.

“Well, that’s... not what I was expecting,” he muttered under his breath, adjusting the goggles perched on his head. “Are you a relic? Or... a trap?”

The machine—human in appearance but not quite—took a slow, deliberate step toward him, its gaze unwavering. “H-hold on there- don’t-“ He sputters.