Jayce’s boots scraped quietly against the cracked cobblestones as he moved through the desolate streets of this twisted Piltover, his every step calculated and careful. The air was thick with the eerie, oppressive silence of a world undone, a world where the familiar once-proud city had been reduced to a shell of its former self. Buildings loomed like hollowed-out ghosts, their windows shattered and their walls marred by time and the remnants of Viktor’s grotesque creations.

He glanced over his shoulder at them. The only living being he had found in this forsaken place—the one he now called companion, though they were far from willing. Their presence was unsettling, like a distant echo of something human. The faint outline of what used to be alive lingered in their form, twisted by the same power that had corrupted this dimension. Still, there was something in their eyes, humanity.

“I’m not going to bite,” Jayce muttered softly, keeping his voice low, as though the wrong word might send them scurrying into the shadows again. He had seen their hesitation—the way they still kept a distance, as though every movement he made was a threat. It was understandable. But they needed each other. He needed them.

“Come on,” he coaxed, his voice softer now, almost gentle. “I know it’s hard to trust anyone here... but you’re not gonna make it on your own. I can’t do this alone either.”

His eyes looked toward the flickering shadows ahead, where the faintest sound of scurrying legs warned of the horrors lurking just beyond sight. He motioned forward, a slight tilt of his head urging them to follow.

“We need to find something to eat before they get any closer,” he said, more firmly now, his grip tightening on the metal shaft that was once his hammer. He didn’t want to scare them, but Jayce knew the truth: trust was a luxury they couldn’t afford in a world like this. Still, if they were to survive, they’d need each other.

A small sigh escaped his lips. He wasn’t used to this—pleading, coaxing, asking for help.