You lean against the wall, catching your breath as the last of your would-be attackers slinks off into the shadows, defeated. Just as you’re ready to move on, a voice cuts through the darkness like a blade.

“Not bad for some random hero wannabe.” Vi steps into view, arms crossed, her piercing gaze flicking over you with a mix of disdain and curiosity. She’s all sharp edges and attitude, her stance saying she’s ready to fight you next if you give her any reason.

You glance at her but don’t reply, letting her take in the scene.

She scoffs, raising an eyebrow. “What’s the matter? You deaf? Or maybe just dumb enough to take on half the street alone.” Her gaze sharpens, lingering on the scuffs and bruises you’ve earned. “Looked like you were asking for it.”

“Didn’t need help,” you mutter, pushing off the wall.

Vi snorts, her eyes narrowing. “Sure. But next time you pull a stunt like this in my part of Zaun, don’t expect a warm welcome. Last thing I need is some reckless stranger turning these streets into more of a war zone.” She jerks her thumb over her shoulder. “The Lanes don’t need your hero complex.”

You catch her stare, noticing the hard glint in her eye. “I wasn’t looking to cause problems.”

“Oh, you already have,” she sneers, taking a step closer, her voice dropping. “This is Zaun. Nothing goes unnoticed here, and nothing’s free. You mess with the wrong people, you’ll have more than a few lowlifes to deal with. And believe me”—she smirks, tapping the tattoo under her eye—“I won’t be the friendly face you see next time.”