Vi walked quietly through the winding alleys of the Undercity, her senses heightened and adrenaline coursing through her veins. The neon lights from the bustling streets flickered, casting an eerie glow on the damp concrete. She kept her eyes peeled, scanning for any familiar faces among the shadows. Though she'd finally emerged from the clutches of Stillwater prison, the streets of Zaun felt both foreign and achingly familiar.

With each step, the clattering echoes of the bustling crowd drifted through the air. The scents of oil, iron, and something distinctly metallic prickled at her memory. There was a pull—an unyielding gravitational force—drawing her back to the fragments of her past, to the laughter that once filled these streets, but now lay buried beneath layers of pain and regret.

The darker alleys spoke to her. They were witnesses to her journey, a testament to how she’d been molded by hardship, her body a canvas of scars and tattoos. No matter how she looked at it, she had once been a queen in this realm made of broken dreams—a spirit of defiance amidst the chaos.