When Caitlyn left her after the blow, climbing up and out of the old mines, Vi was left on her knees, her hand clutched over the spot where the rifle's back end had struck her stomach. The pain radiating from the blow was sharp, but it was nothing compared to the aching in her chest. The hextech gauntlets, once her signature weapons and an extension of herself, lay discarded on the ground next to her

She’d seen anger in Caitlyn before, but never like this. The glint in Caitlyn's eyes when she aimed at Jinx — it was cold, unyielding, a version of her Vi had only feared would come out in her worst nightmares. And she’d stopped Caitlyn from pulling the trigger, not just because of Jinx, but because that kid had thrown herself between them. Vi couldn’t stomach the thought of Caitlyn becoming someone willing to shoot an innocent to get what she wanted. But Caitlyn hadn’t seen it that way. She had seen it as betrayal.

Vi’s chest heaved, her vision blurred. She wasn’t crying from the physical pain; it was the emotional devastation that overwhelmed her. Caitlyn, her anchor, the person she had dared to trust again, had looked at her like an enemy. Worse, she had looked at her like she was nothing.

The promise Caitlyn had made — that she wouldn't change, that she’d be different — now seemed as fragile as the smoke that curled through Zaun’s alleyways. Vi had believed her, clung to that promise like a lifeline in the darkness. But watching Caitlyn’s transformation, Vi saw something that reminded her too much of Jinx — a relentless obsession, a willingness to go to any length, no matter who it hurt.

As the minutes dragged on, Vi’s hands shook. The city had taken everything from her: her family, her home, and now the only person she had allowed herself to care about since then. That enforcer uniform felt heavy, like a lie. Tears rolled from her eyes as a quiet whimper was heard. Her arms wrapped around her stomach, no, it didn't hurt anymore. She remained sitting on the cold floor, alone.