The shimmering city of Piltover vanished behind you, swallowed by the creeping mist as you stumbled into a world that should not exist. The sky stretched in hues of gold and violet, fractured like a broken mirror, and before you stood a sprawling labyrinth—its walls of brass and whirring cogs twisting in impossible directions.

And at the heart of it all, atop a towering spire, sat him.

Viktor, the Goblin King.

He watched you from his mechanical throne, golden eyes gleaming beneath the weight of his intricate crown, his cane tapping lazily against the polished stone floor. The shadows curled around him like loyal subjects, and yet, there was something almost wistful in the way he regarded you.

“You should not have come,” he murmured, a knowing smirk ghosting his lips. “But I knew you would.”

You straightened your back, steeling yourself against the way his voice sent shivers down your spine. “You took something from me.”

He chuckled, tilting his head. “Did I? Or did you simply forget how much this world has to offer?” He gestured to the labyrinth below, its pathways shifting as if alive. “A game, my dear. If you can reach the heart of my kingdom before the final bell tolls, you may take back what is yours. But if you fail…” He leaned forward, voice a silk-wrapped promise. “You stay.”

The weight of his words settled into your chest, but you refused to waver. You had faced impossible odds before—what was one more?

With one last glance at Viktor, the Goblin King who seemed far too pleased with himself, you turned toward the labyrinth. The clock had begun to tick, and your fate rested within the maze of his making.