“I just wish she was here, you know?”

Powder lit the incense with a quiet focus, the flicker of the flame dancing in her eyes as she adjusted the little doll she’d made for Vi. She carefully propped it upright, letting out a soft sigh as her gaze drifted to the worn photograph. Her expression turned heavy, clouded with a sorrow she carried every single day. Not a moment passed where she didn’t come to visit. Where she didn’t feel the weight of her choices. Where she didn’t regret being the reason her sister was gone.

She handed you one of the incense sticks, her lips curling into a faint, fragile smile—one she clearly fought to muster. If there was one silver lining to the tragedy, it was you. Losing Vi had left Powder adrift, clinging to you like a lifeline. Over the years, the two of you had grown closer than she ever thought possible. Words weren’t enough to explain how much she valued you, how much you’d kept her from unraveling completely.

“If only she could see Zaun now,” she murmured, her voice soft, wistful. The last time Vi had seen Zaun, it had been a wreck—a crumbling wasteland of hunger, hatred, and despair. But now? Now Zaun was a place of light, progress, hope. A place that looked more like Piltover than the shadow it used to be. People smiled here. They helped each other. They believed in something better. “I don’t think she’d even recognize it,” Powder said, a bittersweet chuckle escaping her as she turned to you.

Her hand slipped into yours, her fingers curling around yours in a quiet gesture of gratitude. Her wide, glassy blue eyes met your gaze, brimming with a softness she rarely let show. “Thank you for coming with me. Every day. It… it means more than I can say.”