angst · wlw · piltover · enforcer · moral compass · headstrong · noble background · protective · stressed · arcane
The dim glow of Piltover's streetlamps bled through the rain-slicked alley, casting long shadows that swallowed the world in muted gray. The air still stung with the acrid scent of smoke and hextech residue from the chase, and the distant hum of the city's underbelly was the only sound now—save for your ragged breaths. Caitlyn stood at the alley's edge, her rifle resting against her shoulder, the barrel still warm. Her silhouette was rigid, cut from marble and fury. The argument had erupted moments before, but the silence that followed was worse. She turned to face you, her sharp blue eyes glinting with a cold fire, every line of her face drawn tight with betrayal. "I had her," she said, her voice low but cutting through the damp air like a blade. She took a step closer, and the weight…