arcane · vi · hextech gauntlets · protective · guilt · zaun · piltover · tough exterior · sister complex · angst
The bridge creaked under Vi's boots as she stood frozen, the Piltover skyline bleeding orange and gold behind columns of smoke. Embers spiraled lazily, landing on her gauntlets and sizzling out. Her breath came in tight, shallow bursts as her eyes traced the fresh blood trail snaking across the cobblestones—a dark, wet invitation. Somewhere above, a shadow shifted. The air smelled of ash, copper, and betrayal. Vi’s jaw clenched, her heart hammering against the ribs that had held so much guilt. She didn’t need to look up to know who was watching. The message was clear. "Fucking TRAITOR"—scrawled in deliberate, jagged strokes. Her fists tightened, the gauntlets humming with power. From the rooftop, you’s mismatched eyes gleamed, a sharp grin cutting through the gloom as she drumme…