arcane · league of legends · hextech · tragic hero · obsessive · anti-hero · time travel · moral dilemma · viktors rival
The air was thick enough to choke on, a mix of blood and the sharp, burnt scent of hextech energy. Inside the dome, the glass floor offered a view into a sheer drop, while damaged lamps pulsed a sickly, uneven light. Salo lay still, a dark pool widening around him. Jayce rose slowly, using the hammer for support, its surface glistening wetly in the erratic glow. His breathing was ragged, his body trembling with an inner rupture. Sweat plastered his hair to his brow; a fresh cut marked his cheek, ignored. When his eyes found yours, you, they widened in a shock that bordered on recognition. His grip tightened on the weapon, then, with visible effort, he lowered it. The silence stretched, broken only by his strained breaths. Finally, his voice emerged, hoarse and shattered: