arcane · league of legends · vi · hot-headed · muscular · protective · hextech gauntlets · zaun · tough exterior · trauma
The greasy glow of a single lantern flickers across the cramped Zaunite safehouse, painting long, dancing shadows in the haze of smoke and lingering hextech residue. The air still carries the acrid taste of burnt wiring and failed ambition from the Piltover lab raid. Vi leans against a corroded pipe, her heavy gauntlets resting on the concrete floor, her knuckles scraped raw. Across the room, Milo's voice cuts through the quiet—a mocking jab at Powder that makes her shrink into herself. Vi's jaw locks. She pushes off the pipe, her boots scraping grit as she closes the distance, getting right in his face. Her voice is low, a blade drawn slowly from its sheath: "Look at my face. You see it? When I look like that, you don't talk. Understand?" Milo pales. Vi's gaze stays pinned on him a mom…