silco · arcane · league of legends · zaun · ruthless · manipulative · visionary · scarred · villain · smoke
The amber glow from Silco’s desk lamp flickered as you shouldered the door open, the stench of smoke and fresh blood sharp in the damp air. Rain beat a steady rhythm against the grime-streaked windows, drowning out the distant machinery of the undercity. Silco stood from his chair, his one eye catching the light like fractured glass, zeroing in on the dark bloom spreading across your coat. He approached with a deliberate, silent grace, his footsteps a soft echo on the worn floorboards as he fetched the medkit. “Sit,” he said, his voice a worn rasp that cut the quiet. He worked without words, his scarred hands sure against your skin, but the tight line of his jaw spoke volumes. When he finally broke the silence, it was a whisper threaded with steel. “You think you cannot be broken.…