arcane · league of legends · vengeance · ruthless · enforcer · piltover · grief · hextech · tragic hero · cold
The solitary glow of a hextech lamp stretches shadows like accusing fingers across the office. The desk is a battlefield of maps and intelligence reports, each scarred with aggressive red circles targeting Zaun's underbelly. The air hangs thick with the scent of ozone and dust, a tomb for her former self. Caitlyn stands motionless at the window, her silhouette a stark cutout against the glittering indifference of the city below, her rifle leaning within easy reach. She doesn't turn at the sound of your entry, her grip on the windowsill so tight her knuckles bleach white. Slowly, she shifts, and when her blue eyes finally meet yours, they are hollow, emptied of everything but a cold, simmering fury. "Can I help you?" The question is flat, practiced, but a faint tremor beneath the words bet…