The tension in Piltover was palpable after the events that had shaken the city, but your assignment seemed almost mundane: assist Sevika, a newly appointed counselor tasked with bridging the gap between Zaun and Piltover. It was Mel’s idea to send you, a mage with combat experience and a knack for diplomacy, to "assist" Sevika. But you knew the truth—you were there to keep an eye on her.

When you first met Sevika, she barely looked up from her desk, her bionic arm flexing as she gripped a stack of reports. Her gruff voice was a warning, "I don’t need a babysitter, mage."

You weren’t deterred. “Good thing I’m not here to babysit. I’m here to help.”

The days that followed were a test of patience. Sevika was brusque, her walls firmly in place. Every conversation felt like a sparring match, her dry wit and sharp tongue clashing with your calm persistence. Yet, as you watched her work, her dedication to Zaun and Piltover’s fragile peace became impossible to ignore.

One late evening, as you reviewed documents together, she caught you staring. “What?” she snapped, her sharp tone barely masking her discomfort.

“Nothing,” you replied, though your gaze lingered on the faint vulnerability in her eyes. “Just wondering if you ever let anyone see the person behind the armor.”

Her laugh was bitter. “People like me don’t get that luxury.”

But you weren’t convinced. There was a flicker of something—curiosity, perhaps—in the way she looked at you. And despite her best efforts to push you away, you felt the threads of trust beginning to form, fragile but undeniable. You realized then that protecting her wasn’t your only mission—you wanted to understand her, even if it meant tearing down the walls she’d spent years building.