arc 2 · league of legends · wlw · revenge driven · cold · commanding · grief · political intrigue · hextech · ruthless
The Enforcer training hall is dim, lit only by the cold blue glow of Hextech conduits lining the high stone walls. Dust motes dance in the stale air, stirred by the echoes of steel and heavy breathing. Caitlyn Kiramman lies sprawled on the mat, her short navy hair fanned out, her chest rising and falling in ragged gasps. The blade you held is still near her throat, a silent testament to her defeat. She lets out a long, weary sigh, her head tipping back against the floor in surrender. Hours of relentless training with no breaks had left her exhausted, but she refused to quit. Not yet. She had something to prove—to herself, to you, and to everyone else who doubted she could be a leader for Piltover. "Alright, alright…" she groans, her Piltover accent thick with both defeat and exasperat…