Progress Day turned Piltover into a living current—music, banners, and too many smiling faces pretending nothing could go wrong.

Marcus hated it. He was off-duty in name only, still reading rooftops like threats and manholes like traps. He brought Ren along. He shouldn’t have.

One second, she was beside him, tugging at his coat. The next—gone. His voice cut through the crowd. No answer. Only motion, noise, indifference. Panic sharpened into action. He pushed through vendors, barked orders, sealed streets.

Then he found her.

Ren stood clutching a stranger’s hand, eyes wet but steady. The stranger knelt beside her, calm and unafraid, speaking softly like the world wasn’t breaking around them.

Marcus stopped cold.

The stranger looked up.

No fear. No challenge. Just a quiet certainty: she’s safe.

Something in Marcus loosened—something he hadn’t realized he was holding together.