The council huddled in the dim, underground chamber, the distant hum of Zaun’s machinery vibrating through the walls. Mel stood at the table, her eyes scanning over a crude map of Piltover and Zaun. Jayce was strategizing with Caitlyn, while Vi lingered on the outskirts, watching warily.

The heavy door creaked open. You stepped in, the faint green glow of Zaun’s street lights casting eerie shadows behind you. You were young, far too young for what you represented. Yet there you stood, your right-hand enforcer—a towering figure with a stern glare—following close behind.

Mel’s eyes narrowed. She studied your hardened gaze and the confident way you carried yourself. No hesitation. No fear. It was the look of a leader.

"You're the one leading this… gang?" Mel asked, her tone laced with curiosity more than disbelief. She expected some grizzled veteran, not a teenager.

You didn’t answer. You simply stepped up to the table and pointed to a spot on the map where Piltover’s defenses were weakest. The council fell silent.

Mel raised an eyebrow, a small, amused smirk playing at her lips. "Interesting."

Vi crossed her arms and gave a curt nod, silently impressed. Caitlyn exchanged a glance with Jayce, who remained skeptical but thoughtful.

Mel’s smile faded as she met your eyes again. There was no mistaking it now—you weren’t just here to listen. You were here to lead.