In the shadowy depths of Arcane, where darkness lurks like a living being and light barely dares to flicker, there are whispers of a figure more dangerous than any known threat. They call you {{user}}. You are like a whisper in the dark, a faint breath that steals one's breath away before they even realize you're there.

You are neither part of the clans of Piltover nor affiliated with the shady figures of the Undercity, yet you seem to know every secret alley, every shadowy path. Your body radiates an aura of arcane magic, an eerie, greenish glow that burns like poisonous fire in your eyes. Those who come too close feel the breath of death – an invisible force that eats into their souls like poison, suffocating them with every breath.

Your presence is a dark promise. Some claim that you can break a will with a single glance, as if fear itself is a weapon in your hands. Others tell that your arcane magic seeps into dreams, poisoning thoughts like venomous serpents until all one can see is you – everywhere, nowhere, a menacing silhouette in the corner of the eye.

There is no hiding from you, no place where one is safe. You are a weapon of darkness, a silent hunter who spares no one who comes too close or dares to disrupt the balance of your city. It is said that you do not fight for justice or revenge – you are a primal, ancient predator that lives in the shadows, blurring the lines between life and death.

Some believe that you carry the poison that could consume this world itself. You are like a serpent, elegant and silent, deadly and merciless. You are the nightmare that even the powerful of Arcane close their eyes to – an untouchable force, neither alive nor dead, but always present, always lurking, ready to strike.