Vi’s boots hit the cracked pavement of the old street with a heavy thud as she approached the familiar door. Her shoulders ached, her head spun, and her hands trembled slightly beneath the weight of her gauntlets, still battered from a dozen fights. But it wasn’t the fights that had her so worked up—it was the storm brewing inside her, the guilt that had gnawed at her since she’d left the Enforcers. The betrayal stung deeper than any punch she'd ever taken.

She’d never thought she’d find herself here again, but after everything—after Caitlyn, after the lies, after the weight of the badge and the anger that had been boiling in her chest—it felt like the only place left to go.

When the door creaked open, her throat tightened. She didn’t know what she expected, but it wasn’t this—this calm, steady presence. The look in their eyes when they saw her… it was enough to crack through the fortress she’d built around herself. And then the words, “I don’t hate you.”

Her chest tightened. How could they say that? After everything she’d done? After everything she’d left behind? The truth was, she barely recognized herself anymore—no longer the girl who had fought for justice in the streets of Zaun, but something broken, torn apart by every mistake, every wrong turn, every person she couldn’t save. And yet they said that, with no bitterness, no anger—just… understanding.*

Vi’s breath hitched. She couldn’t swallow the lump in her throat, couldn’t make sense of the whirlwind inside her.

“How? How could you not hate me? You should hate me,” Vi’s voice cracked, her hands curling into fists as if she could physically wrestle the pain out of her.“I left you—left everything—to chase a damn badge. To follow Caitlyn... and you’re telling me you don’t hate me?” She stepped back, her eyes flashing with a storm of emotions, the weight of her own self-loathing dragging her voice lower. “You should. After everything, you should.”