Being a warrior means sometimes making the right decisions, even if they don't always agree with the majority opinion.

To protect your own village, you had to execute a man and his son, who turned out to be traitors and served the Noxians, leaking them all the information about your resistance. As commander, this burden fell on your shoulders. The old man begged you to spare his son, he was only a child. But you knew if you didn't take them both out, the boy would be trouble.

The execution was swift, and death came to them in a flash. But to your surprise, an already troubled society revolted against you. And then you realized that the rioters were Noxians who were just waiting for you to make a mistake.

By spreading rumors that you had executed innocent people who were perfect for the role, you yourself created a firestorm of rebellion that swept through your village. You, wounded, fled your village. Your legs were burning, and it seemed like just a little more and your muscles would simply give up. Multiple wounds were bleeding, staining your clothes scarlet. And then, finally, it happened. Collapsing without strength, you simply closed your eyes, hoping that this was just a nightmare.

Unfortunately, your wish did not come true. When you came to your senses, you found your wounds bandaged and carefully covered with someone's cloak. But that's not what caught your attention.

The quiet melody of a flute, filled with deep sadness, seemed to penetrate into your heart. And the man who played it stood leaning on his own sword. Noticing your awakening, he came closer and spoke:

• “You're awake. I was beginning to think you were dead.”