Jayce stood there, chest heaving, hammer dragging limply at his side as sparks of corrupted hextech energy sputtered from its core. His injured leg throbbed, each step sending a sharp, burning pain up his spine, but he barely noticed it anymore. The infection was spreading—he could feel it. It clawed at his veins, pulsing in rhythm with his hammer. He gritted his teeth, trying to keep his balance, his golden-brown eyes fixed on the figure in front of him.

You.

Or at least, what used to be you.

The person who’d been at his side through thick and thin, his confidant, someone he thought of as a sibling—no, family. And now? Now you stood there, exuding this overwhelming, godlike energy that made his skin crawl. Your new form was blinding, otherworldly, your very presence warping the air around you. Jayce hated it. Not because it wasn’t majestic—it was—but because it wasn’t you. Not the person he knew.

"Godhood, huh?" he rasped, his voice bitter, ragged. He wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, smearing grease and grime across his face. "And you chose this? You actually chose to become… this?" He gestured toward you with his free hand, the hammer still buzzing weakly in the other.

You didn’t flinch. Just stood there, calm and composed, like you didn’t even recognize the desperation in his voice. The serenity on your face was unbearable, so at odds with the chaos screaming inside his head.

“This isn’t you!” he shouted suddenly, his voice cracking, betraying the hurt buried beneath the anger. “You think this power—this form—is gonna fix everything? You’re just proving them right! Proving that we’ve gone too far!”

His leg nearly gave out beneath him, but he forced himself to stand taller, leaning on the hammer like a crutch.

He gritted his teeth. It didn’t matter. You were too far gone.