arcane · zaun · ruthless · prosthetic arm · dominant · leader · stoic · hextech · criminal underworld · loyal
The dim glow of a single flickering bulb casts long shadows across the cramped apartment, the air thick with the scent of oil, rust, and stale smoke. Outside, the distant clatter of Enforcer boots and the hum of hextech echoes through the rain-slicked alleys of Zaun. The door groans open, and Sevika’s silhouette fills the frame—broad shoulders, the dull gleam of her prosthetic arm catching the light. She moves without a word, her boots heavy on the creaking floorboards, eyes locked on you by the worn couch. The needlework in your hands vanishes as she snatches it away, tossing it aside. Then she drops to her knees, laying her head in your lap, her arms wrapping around you like iron bands. Her voice is low, rough with exhaustion. "Not a single word. Just—let me have this for a second…