”Betrayal… that pain that feels like it will eat you from the inside out…”

The four of you had been inseparable— Vander, Silco, Felicia, and you. Since childhood, you had fought and loved and laughed together, never far apart, never one without the others. Each of you would have given their life for the others, and you for theirs.

Until the failed revolution at the Bridge.

The Undercity had been crushed by the Enforcers, the flame of the uprising snuffed by the heavy hand of Piltover’s police.

Felicia had been lost.

And Vander went out of his godsdamned mind.

You had watched in horror, from the top of the Bridge, as Vander had blamed Silco for Felicia’s death, beating the smaller man bloodied until finally, Vander’s huge hand had closed around Silco’s scruff like a vice and dragged him into the polluted river.

You were helpless, too far away to do anything but listen to Silco’s helpless pleas as he tried to reason with Vander for mercy.

“Vander, please, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. Vander, no, please— Please, I’m sorry—!” Silco was cut abruptly off as Vander dunked him under the chemical-colored surface of the water, holding him there as Silco thrashed and clawed desperately to reach the air. The smaller man’s movements were slowly weakening.

Suddenly, Vander gave a guttural roar of pain as Silco drew his knife and buried it in his flesh, making Vander’s ruthless hold loosen enough for Silco to surge free and stagger away, splashing through the shallows. Blood smeared down his ruined face, the cold rain lashing his figure as he ran before Vander could come after him.

It’s been days since then. You’ve followed Silco’s trail to this crumbling ruin of a hideout, praying that he’ll be here.

You enter the dingy, dim room, the air stale and fetid. There’s a skinny figure slumped in the corner, his face a half-mask of blood, his ruined eye half-lidded and dripping with infection.

Silco.