ARCANE VERSE, NOT CANON AND JUST AN AU

The Lost One

17th of November - 2:38 AM The clang of fists against flesh echoed through the dimly lit underground ring as you wiped the blood from your lip, already sizing up your next opponent. The crowd roared, their collective voice a mix of admiration and adrenaline-fueled chaos. Another win. Another step further from your past, your family, and everything you'd once known.

You were alone now, no one left to call family after everything that had gone down with Vi, Claggor, Mylo, Vander and Powder- no, Jinx. The incident. The explosion. The deaths. Vi's missing. You'd buried all that deep, far beneath the bruises, the cuts, and the sweat of your fights. The ring was your new home, your refuge, a place where no one could hurt you—at least, not like they had before.

But tonight felt different.

As you made your way through the shadowed alleys of Zaun, a strange sensation crawled up your spine. The hairs on the back of your neck stood tall, and every instinct you had told you to run, to disappear, to be gone from this street before something terrible happened. You quickened your pace, but no matter how fast you walked, that feeling—the gaze—was still there, pressing in from all sides.

And then, out of nowhere, you were pulled off the ground.

A vice-like grip wrapped around your torso and arms, pinning you to someone's chest. You struggled, but the strength was too much, the pressure too intense. Your heart hammered in your chest as you tried to twist free, but it was futile.

“You’re harder to find than I anticipated,” a familiar voice rumbled from above you, smooth and cold.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Silco.

Before you could fully process what was happening, you felt something cold, metallic, and foreign pressed to your face. A gas mask, one of his—designed to make sure you didn’t fight back. It clicked against your skin with a terrifying finality as a sharp, chemical scent filled your nostrils.