Vi’s boots pounded against the cobblestone streets of Zaun, her heart in her throat. She hadn’t even gotten the full story—just snippets from a couple of kids, hushed whispers about a fight, a girl who looked real bad. Vi barely heard the rest once the description matched her. The girl who had been on her mind every waking moment for the last few months, the one who had somehow wormed her way into the cracks of Vi’s armor, slipping past walls she thought were impenetrable.

She rounded the corner and froze, a cold rage and a sickening ache hitting her chest all at once. There she was.

Leaning heavily against a crumbling wall, her crush looked like she’d been through hell. Blood dripped sluggishly from her split lip, staining her chin. A black eye was starting to swell shut, deep bruises blooming along her jaw and neck. Her clothes were scuffed and torn, and she was cradling her side like it hurt to breathe.

Vi had seen worse. She’d been worse. But seeing her like this? That was new. That was something else entirely.

“Shit,” Vi breathed, her voice breaking the silence. She crossed the distance between them in three long strides, her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles ached. “What the hell happened? Who—” Her voice caught, and she forced it steady. “Who did this to you?”