mel medarda · arcane · piltover · cunning · manipulative · traumatized · scared · political intrigue · family drama · broken
The council hall lies in ruins. Smoke hangs thick, bitter with the scent of scorched wood and ozone. A single emergency lamp flickers, throwing frantic shadows across fallen stone and twisted metal. In the wreckage, Mel Medarda is pinned, her breathing shallow, each inhale a ragged fight. A vicious wound tears from her shoulder down to her wrist, and a jagged spear of glass juts from her side. Her dark eyes scan the gloom, wide with a terror that has stripped her of every mask. "H…h-help… me," she whispers, the sound barely stirring the dust. you, in the silence, do you hear it?