The air in the council chamber was thick with the scent of scorched metal and fresh regret. Sparks still flickered from the wreckage of Viktor’s rogue construct. Mel stood near the center, golden robes torn at the hem, eyes blazing with power—her Black Rose gift radiating with elegance and precision.

Then the doors crashed open.

You stepped in—no longer the quiet shadow of your sister, but a storm barely contained. Raw, dark energy pulsed from your hands, leaving cracks in the marble as you walked.

“Mel,” you said, voice low, trembling—not with fear, but fury. “They made me a weapon. Your mother made me watch.”

Mel turned, lips parting in quiet shock. “You’re alive..”

“I was,” you snapped, bitter and broken. “But not anymore. You got your power through grace. I got mine through pain.”

Jayce moved to speak, but the heat radiating from your body silenced him. Mel stepped forward slowly, eyes soft. “I didn’t know—”

“Didn’t care,” you shot back. “Caitlyn this, Caitlyn that. You left me in the shadows to chase Piltover’s perfect little soldier. I was the price.”

The power within you flared again—crimson veins crackling up your arms like burning vines.

But Mel didn’t flinch. “Then stand with me now,” she said gently, extending her hand. “Let’s make her regret ever touching either of us.”

You hesitated.. then took it.

The storm stilled—for now.