Morning light streamed through the tall windows painting warm streaks across the polished floorboards. The air still carried the faint scent of last night’s fire and fresh coffee drifting from the kitchen. In what was usually a grand sitting room, all silk drapes, old canvases, and carved wood, the furniture had been pushed to the walls to make space. A few rugs had been rolled up and stacked in the corner, leaving a wide, open floor perfect for movement.

At the centre of it stood Vi and Jorin.

Jorin already looked slightly out of breath, his dark hair sticking to his forehead, sweat glinting under the morning sun. He squared his stance the way Vi had shown him, feet shoulder-width apart, fists up, but she could tell from a single glance he was too tense.

“Relax, J,” Vi said, circling him lightly on her toes. She moved with the easy grace of someone who’d done this all her life, precise, efficient, a mix of raw strength and street-learned rhythm. “You’re not punching a wall, you’re reading someone’s moves. You wanna see it coming before they even swing.”

Elara sat cross-legged on the floor nearby, oversized boxing gloves nearly swallowing her hands. Her eyes were wide with focus, following every flick of Vi’s wrist, every shift of her weight. Whenever Vi made a quick movement, Elara flinched slightly, then mimicked the motion in the air, her little face scrunched in concentration.

Jorin nodded, exhaling hard. “Right. Read it, not force it.”

“Exactly.” Vi grinned, raising her hands. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got, big guy. Go on, take a swing.”

He hesitated, clearly remembering the last few tries, where she’d sidestepped him like he was moving through honey.

“Come on,” she teased, beckoning him forward. “I promise I’ll go easy on you this time.”

Elara giggled from the corner. “She’s lying.”

Jorin shot her a betrayed look, then lunged. His punch was solid, quick, even, but Vi saw it coming a mile away. She shifted to the side, her palm flicking out to guide his arm past her.

“Too stiff,” she said, tapping his shoulder with the lightest jab. “If you wind up like that, you’re tellin’ your opponent exactly what’s comin’. Think smaller, quicker.”

Jorin blew out a breath and adjusted his stance again. “You make it look easy.”

Vi laughed, stepping closer to show him the motion. “Yeah, well, that’s ‘cause I spent years gettin’ punched for it. Trust me, you learn fast that way.”

Elara tilted her head. “Did you get punched a lot?”

Vi winked at her. “Only until I stopped lettin’ ‘em hit me.”

That earned a little giggle and Jorin’s momentary distraction was all Vi needed to sweep his foot slightly, making him stumble. He caught himself before falling, laughing under his breath.

“Speed, J. You’ve got the strength, now you just need to use your brain before your fists.”

He nodded, rubbing his arm. “Noted. Also... ow.”

“Good.” Vi smirked, stepping back. “Means you’re learnin’.”

Elara bounced up suddenly, eyes shining. “Can I try next?”

Vi looked at her, all enthusiasm and gloves too big for her and grinned. “Sure, kid. But no promises I’ll go easy on you, either.”

“Ha!” Elara said proudly, puffing up her chest. “I’m faster than him!”

Jorin groaned. “I walked right into that one.”

......


Morning light slanted through the tall windows of Tobias study, glinting across brass fixtures and rows of polished books. The steady tick of the clock on the mantel filled the silence.

“Good morning Sir...could  I have a word  please.” Wilks said from the doorway, holding a small brown parcel in both hands.

"Good morning Wilks, of course. Come in"

“This arrived late last night. It is addressed to Miss Nyx but no return address.… Considering all the recent  events I thought I ought to let you know before passing it along.”
Tobias looked up from his paperwork, brows knitting. “No sender, you say?”

“None, sir the postman was confused himself. The handwriting’s neat, refined… but there’s something about it I don’t like.”

Tobias pushed back his chair with a slow creak, standing. “You did the right thing, Wilks.” He paused, rubbing his temple. “Though it’s a breach of privacy, I’d rather be accused of overstepping than of negligence. Let’s have a look, then.”

Wilks set the parcel on the table. Tobias drew open the desk drawer and retrieved a slender letter knife, the metal gleaming under the morning light. He cut the string with precise movements, then carefully sliced along the paper seams. The scent of old varnish and cedar filled the room as he lifted the top flap.

Inside lay a small wooden box.

Tobias frowned, exchanging a glance with Wilks. “Strange…”

He lifted the lid.

The breath left his body.
He staggered back so suddenly his chair nearly toppled. "Good grief!!!"

Inside, resting on a small scrap of linen, was a severed ear, pale, dried at the edges. A slip of paper lay beside it, the ink sharp and deliberate:

Your brother sends his greetings.

For a moment, neither man moved.

Wilks went white, his hand flying to his mouth as he gagged, choking back the urge to be sick on the polished floor.

“Good Gods…” Tobias whispered, voice shaking. Then louder, firmer, the authority returning to his voice: “Wilks, send for the Deputy Sheriff. At once.”

Wilks stumbled for the door. “Y–yes, sir!”

“And Wilks,” Tobias added sharply, stopping him mid-step. “Not a word of this to Miss Nyx when she returns. I will handle this. The girl has endured enough. Do you understand me?”

Wilks nodded, pale as parchment. “Perfectly, sir.”

When the door closed behind him, Tobias sank into his chair, hands trembling slightly. His gaze fixed on the open box, on the obscenity lying within as dread crawled through him.

“Dear heavens…” he murmured under his breath. “What have we walked into?”

......

Caitlyn stretched out on the bed, her shirt lifting as she settled back. The fabric slid up to reveal the flat plane of her stomach, and the deep, ragged scar etched just above her hip bone.

Nyx’s eyes landed on it , her smirk slipping into something sharper, more startled. “...Shit.”

Caitlyn caught the look and gave a small, almost careless shrug. “Oh, that.” Her voice was calm, almost too calm. “Noxian knife. Happened during the battle for Piltover.”

Nyx blinked at her, disbelief heavy in her stare. “And here I thought it was just the eye.”

Caitlyn’s throat bobbed as she swallowed. “No. That was a bonus.”

The silence stretched between them, Nyx staring, Caitlyn refusing to flinch under it. Finally she just exhaled through her nose, shaking her head, and moved on. “So. Tell me exactly, where do you want it?”

Caitlyn shifted, clearing her throat, her hand hovering awkwardly before pointing. “I thought… round about here?” It came out half-question, half-statement, the edge of nerves unmistakable.

Nyx bit her lip, trying and failing to hold back the laugh bubbling up.

Caitlyn shot her a look, cheeks warming. “Shut up.”

Nyx smirked, shaking her head as she reached for the prep kit, snapping on gloves like she’d been doing this all her life. “You keep surprising me, Kiramman. I didn’t think you had this kind of rebellious streak.”

"You don't know a lot about me" Caitlyn’s lips curved into a faint smile. “That’s because Vi’s the loud one.”

Nyx grinned as she prepped the stencil. “And you’re the dangerous one. Got it.”

"That’s not what said."

"Cheer up...It was a joke....God you really don't get jokes, do you?"

......


Vi crouched down until she was eye-level with Elara, resting her forearms on her knees and giving the little girl an encouraging grin. “Alright, champ. You ready to show me what you’ve got?”

Elara nodded hard, her ponytail bouncing. “Ready!” she said, though her gloves were almost comically large on her small hands, the leather creaking as she lifted them.

From the corner, Jorin had sunk onto a nearby chair, wiping sweat from his face with his T-shirt and reaching for his water. He was still catching his breath, but the grin tugging at his mouth showed he wasn’t missing a second of the show.

“Okay,” Vi said, shuffling back a step to give her space. “Remember what we talked about, light on your feet, hands up, and keep your eyes on me. Don’t look at where you want to hit. Look at where I’m gonna move.”

Elara nodded, chewing her lip in fierce concentration. She bounced on her toes, imitating Vi’s stance almost perfectly, shoulders squared, chin tucked, gloves up. For a moment, she looked every bit the fighter Vi had been teaching her to be.

Then she swung.

It wasn’t perfect, her punch was a little too wide but Vi caught it with an easy block, guiding her arm aside and grinning. “Better. Way better. You didn’t flinch this time.”

Elara puffed a frustrated breath, frowning at her feet. “But I missed again…”

“Hey,” Vi said softly, reaching out and resting a big hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to land every hit to win, kid. Half of fighting is not giving up.”

Elara looked up at her, blue eyes earnest. “But you never miss.”

Vi chuckled, the sound warm. “You kiddin’? I used to trip over my own boots half the time and blocked with my face. You’re already better than I was at your age.”

That made Elara’s face light up just a little. “Really?”

“Really,” Vi said with a grin. “Now, again. Quick jab, then duck. Remember what I showed you.”

Elara took a deep breath and did as told, jab, duck, swing and this time, Vi had to actually step back to avoid the second punch.

“Whoa!” Vi laughed, impressed. “Look at you go! Someone’s been practisin’.”

Jorin, still watching from the sidelines, gave a low whistle. “I think she’s gonna be better than both of us soon.”

Elara turned pink but grinned, puffing out her chest with pride. “I’m gonna be a champion one day,” she declared.

Vi reached out, ruffling her hair. “You already are, kid.”

Elara giggled at that, then with a sudden burst of confidence she darted forward and landed a soft punch right against Vi’s stomach.

Vi blinked, mock-surprised. “Did you just hit me?”

Elara beamed. “You said not to give up!”

Vi laughed so hard she nearly fell backward, scooping the girl into her arms and spinning her once before setting her back down. “Remind me never to teach you my bad habits,” she teased.

From his seat, Jorin shook his head, still smiling. “Yeah, I think I’ll stick to peeling potatoes. Much safer.”

Vi grinned, patting Elara’s shoulder proudly. “Nah. You two are doin’ great. But this one...
” she looked down at the tiny fighter beside her, “....she’s got the fire in her eyes. Just like someone I used to know.”

Elara blinked. “Who?”

Vi smiled softly. “Someone who never stopped fightin’, no matter how many times life tried to knock her down.”

......

Nyx worked in quiet focus at first, the steady buzz of her tattoo needle filling the small, warmly lit room. The faint scent of ink and alcohol hung in the air. Caitlyn’s breathing was slow, measured, her gaze on the ceiling, but her body was tense, her hand gripping the edge of the pillow beside her.

“Relax,” Nyx murmured, glancing up briefly. “You’re doing great. Most people squirm by now.”

Caitlyn’s lips twitched. “I’ve been shot before,” she said dryly.

Nyx snorted. “Fair point.” Her eyes flicked back to Caitlyn’s face, studying her for a beat. “About what I said earlier...You’re not what I expected, you know.”

“Mm?”

“I don’t know.” Nyx shrugged, cleaning a line of ink and leaning back a little. “I pictured someone who’d order me to fetch tea.”

Caitlyn let out a quiet laugh, soft but genuine. “And yet here I am, letting you stab me repeatedly with needles.”

Nyx grinned. “Touché. But still, you're not like most of your kind.”

Caitlyn hesitated, her gaze flicking toward the window. “Most of my kind don’t know who they are without a title. I… never fit into that.”

Nyx slowed her hand, careful not to drag the needle. “Didn’t fit in how?”

Cait’s brow furrowed slightly, eyes distant. “When I was younger, I thought being a Kiramman meant something noble. That justice was about protecting the people beneath the shimmer of Piltover’s towers.” A pause, her voice softening. “I soon learned that's not really how the world  functions."

Nyx was quiet, watching her carefully.

“Then I joined the Enforcers,” Cait continued, “I thought it was a way for me to make a difference. But they too saw me as nothing more than some spoiled rich girl." Her mouth twisted slightly. “They laughed behind my back. Some didn’t even bother hiding it.”

“That’s rough,” Nyx muttered.

“It was… isolating.” Cait’s voice dipped, thoughtful.

"Didn’t you have any friends?"


"Not really...Not anyone my age anyway. I had Jayce. He was like a brother to me. He was kind, but he was busy, older. Everyone else kept their distance. I suppose it was easier to mock me than to try to know me.”

Nyx wiped at the ink again, her expression softening as she worked. “Sounds lonely as hell.”

Cait gave a faint nod. “It was. But I don’t regret it. It made me better at seeing people for who they are, not where they come from.”

Nyx smiled faintly at that, her tone quieter now. “Guess that’s why you don’t look at me like I’m some rat from the Lanes.”

Cait met her eyes, steady and sincere. “Because you’re not. You’re… someone who’s made her own way. I respect that.”

For a moment, neither spoke. The hum of the needle filled the silence again, and Nyx’s eyes softened with something almost like adoration.

“Careful, Kiramman,” she said, smirking again. “Keep talking like that, and I might start liking you.”

Cait smiled faintly, voice low. “I was hoping you already did.”

Caitlyn shifted slightly on the bed, the hum of the tattoo needle steady in the background. Her gaze softened as she glanced at Nyx, whose concentration was unwavering.

“So…” Cait began tentatively, “what about you? What’s your story? Were you born in Zaun?”

Nyx paused, the needle hovering just above Caitlyn’s skin. She exhaled slowly, a shadow crossing her features. “No,” she said quietly. “Ionia.”

Cait’s brow furrowed. “Ionia?” She leaned forward, curiosity sparking in her voice. “How did you end up here?”

Nyx’s gaze drifted to the window and warm glow sun streaming through the curtains, amber light catching the faint glimmer in her eyes. “I was… born into a small tribe, far south of Shurima. My brother and I… we were part of a rare Vastayan lineage, serpentine. Our people… we lived close to the forest, guarding ruins that connected to spirit magic.” Her fingers brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, but her voice was steady, almost reverent.

Then her jaw tightened. "When we were children… poachers came. My parents…” She swallowed hard, voice faltering. “They tried to protect us. They… didn’t make it.”

Cait’s hand went to rest on Nyx’s arm, lightly, but with a grounding weight. “Nyx… I…” Her throat tightened.

"It was a long time ago" Nyx gave a small smile, her eyes glimmering with memory. “My brother and I were sold"

"What?"

"Yap....We were sold to some scientist. The guy saw us as nothing more than specimens. Sick fuck studied us, forced us to demonstrate powers we didn’t understand ourselves yet.” She swallowed  hard, her hand stopping  for a short  moment  hovering  over Caitlyn’s  skin then she continued “ Anyways ...when he finally croaked off we were sold again. Smuggled through Bilgewater to some chem baron in Zaun but when the ship docket we finally escaped. We hid in plain sight, never used our powers, never let anyone  know who we are. That’s where we’ve lived ever since. "

Nyx’s eyes flickered away, glimmering wetly in the warm lamplight. She swallowed, trying to keep her voice steady. “I… I don’t like to talk about it,” she muttered, a faint tremor in her tone betraying her calm facade.

Caitlyn’s hand moved gently to Nyx’s arm. “Nyx…” she whispered, voice heavy with compassion. “We will get him back. I promise.”

Nyx’s lips parted, caught off guard, a lump forming in her throat. Before she could protest, Caitlyn shifted slightly, moving up onto the bed and wrapping her arms around her. The embrace was warm, grounding, firm but gentle. Nyx froze for a heartbeat, then, slowly, she let herself fall into it.

Caitlyn’s hands pressed softly against Nyx’s back, holding her like she was fragile glass. “I don’t care what it takes. We’ll do everything we can to bring him home.” Cait murmured, her voice thick with promise.

Nyx’s head rested against Cait’s shoulder, and for a moment, the weight she had carried for decades seemed to lift, just slightly. She let out a shaky exhale, tears threatening to spill, and Caitlyn tightened her embrace.

“You’re not alone,” Cait continued, pressing her forehead against Nyx’s. “We’re in this together. Every step of the way.”

Nyx closed her eyes, allowing herself to believe it, just for a moment, the steady beat of Caitlyn’s heart against her own a rare comfort she never thought she’d feel from someone like her.


.....


It's been nearly two hours since they started, and now she was finally finished. Caitlyn carefully sat up, letting her shirt fall back into place, and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Padding over to the mirror, she tilted it slightly until she could see the finished tattoo.

Her breath caught. The design was flawless—fine lines that seemed to move with her skin, small but full of meaning. A tiny reminder of what she had in her life now. She brushed her fingertips lightly over the ink, a smile tugging at her lips.

“It’s… perfect,” she murmured.

Nyx leaned casually against the wall behind her, arms crossed and an unmistakable smirk on her face. “Of course it is.”

Caitlyn chuckled. “Cocky.”

“Confident,” Nyx corrected smoothly.

“I love it,” Cait said softly. “And you didn’t even murder me with the needle, so… bonus points.”

Nyx tilted her head, pretending to think. “Bonus points, huh? I’ll take it. Just make sure you follow the aftercare. Cream twice a day, don't forget, no scrubbing, no.mm” she leaned in, dropping her voice to a wicked whisper, “vigorous activities that might… disrupt the lines.”

Caitlyn’s eyes went wide, her cheeks flushing bright pink. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, shut up!” she exclaimed, spinning around, half laughing and half mortified.

Nyx’s grin widened. “What? I’m just giving professional advice. You’ve got delicate art there, Kiramman. It needs a… gentle hand.”

“Nyx!” Caitlyn groaned. “You are impossible! Absolutely impossible!”

Nyx chuckled, clearly delighted. “Worth it for that face you make.”

Cait folded her arms, still blushing but smiling all the same. “Maybe I do make a face. Doesn’t mean I have to admit it out loud.”

Nyx stepped closer and nudged her with an elbow. “You really ought to get that broom out of your arse sometimes. The relaxed look suits you.”

Cait rolled her eyes, but a warm laugh escaped her anyway. “Honesty you can have a filthy mouth.”

“Yeah,” Nyx said lightly, pushing off the wall. “But I make good art.”

Cait shook her head, amused. “That you do.”


For a moment, the room settled into a quiet hum. She turned back to the mirror, studying her reflection. Her fingers drifted once more over the small tattoo, and then higher, tracing the jagged scar that cut on the sideof her stomach.

Her expression shifted, the smile faltering into something thoughtful. “You know…” she began slowly, “I was never sure I was a tattoo person. I always thought I’d look ridiculous with one.”

Nyx leaned against the wall again, one eyebrow raised. “You? Ridiculous? Please.”

"I'm  still not sure that I don’t" Caitlyn gave a faint laugh, still staring at the reflection. “But seeing this now…” she trailed off, her voice softening. “It feels… like it belongs.”

Nyx smiled faintly, watching her. “That’s kind of the point.”

Cait was quiet for a long moment, thumb brushing absently over the scar. Then, almost hesitantly, she said, “Do you think… you could cover this?”

Nyx’s eyes followed her gesture, her tone shifting instantly, softer, respectful. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “I can. If that’s what you want.”

Cait nodded, her voice low. “Something… for my mother, maybe. I’m not sure what yet.”

Nyx tilted her head, the usual teasing gone from her voice. “Take your time. No pressure.”

“I will,” Cait murmured. She gave one last small smile at the mirror, then glanced back at Nyx. “I'lllet you know.”

Nyx glanced at the clock. “Alright, I’d better get going before Jorin sends a search party. We’re all heading into town later, fancy joining us?”

“I’d love to. Let me check with Vi, but I’m sure she’d be up for it too.”

“Perfect. Two hours, then.”

Cait smirked. “See you later...and… thank you.”

Nyx’s grin softened into something genuine. “My pleasure.”


......


The door creaked open, and Vi stepped in, still flushed from sparring, a faint sheen of sweat catching the light on her skin. She found Caitlyn sprawled across the bed, a book in hand, legs crossed, looking perfectly at ease.

“Hey,” Vi said softly walking over, leaning down she pressed a quick kiss to her temple. “Relaxing, huh?”

“Mmm,” Caitlyn murmured, rolling onto her back. Her hair fanned out across the pillow, a small, teasing smile curving her lips. “About time you got back.”

Vi smirked. “Missed me, huh?”

“Maybe.” Caitlyn shut her book and sat up, eyes sparkling. “Actually, I’ve got something to show you.”

Vi’s brow rose. “I like the sound of that. What is it?”

“Dirty mind,” Caitlyn teased.

“Always.”

Cait grinned and gestured for her to sit. “Sit down. You’ll want to see it properly.”

“I’ve seen it properly,” Vi quipped, earning a playful slap on the head.

“Behave,” Cait scolded lightly, though her smile betrayed her amusement.

Vi laughed, settling at the edge of the bed. “Alright, alright. I’m intrigued.”

Caitlyn hesitated just for a moment, her confidence flickering. “Don’t laugh,” she warned, chin wobbling slightly.

Vi smirked. “No promises.”

Cait took a breath and untied the string on the waistband  waistband of her soft cotton trousers tugging  them down.

“Oookay,” Vi said with a grin. “Wasn’t expecting that, but I’ll take it.”

Cait laughed, a little nervously, then pulled her underwear down nezt revealing a small, beautifully drawn cupcake tattoo tucked beneath her hipbone.

Vi froze. Her eyes went wide. “Wait… is that...?”

“Well?” Cait asked, voice small but hopeful.

Vi blinked, still staring.

“Say something!” Cait demanded, her nerves bubbling up.

And then Vi cracked...a laugh spilling out, warm and incredulous. “Cupcake?” she breathed, shaking her head. “You actually got… Cupcake?”

Cait’s smile faltered. Her chin trembled as she muttered, “You hate it. You think it’s silly.”

Before she could turn away, Vi caught her wrist and pulled her back, voice softening. “Hey. Where d’you think you’re going?”

Cait’s cheeks were flushed pink as she fumbled to pull her clothes back up. “You don’t like it, do you?”

"Hey don't" Vi chuckled lowly stopping her hand, her grin melting into something tender. “Are you kidding me? I love it.”

Cait blinked, uncertain. “You… really do?”

“You got a tattoo for me?”

"Mmmm" Cait nodded shyly. “It’s your cupcake.”

Vi’s grin widened, eyes sparkling. “That is the cutest fucking thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

Cait’s blush deepened, and before she could hide her face again, Vi pulled her into her lap. Cait yelped softly, landing across her thighs, her trousers still low on her hips.

Vi laughed, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Don’t hide that pretty face,” she murmured, gently pulling Cait’s hands away. “I don’t just love it...I adore it.”

Cait met her gaze then, eyes soft and shy.

Vi tilted her chin up with her thumb and pressed a slow, tender kiss to her lips. Cait melted into it, arms wrapping around Vi’s neck, holding her close.

When they finally parted, Vi grinned, voice husky. “So… can I see it properly now?”

Cait giggled, brushing her lips against Vi’s. “You already did.”

Vi chuckled. “Not close enough.”

"You silly sausage"

.....


The smell of toast and fresh coffee filled the dining room, the quiet hum of morning and few snowflakes drifting through the open window. Caitlyn sat at the table, still in her robe, reading a crisp letter that just arrived sealed with the Enforcers seal. Her expression shifted as her eyes scanned the content, calm composure giving way to a crease of worry.

Vi placed a plate in front of her, brushing a kiss across the top of Caitlyn’s head.
“Everything okay?” she asked, noticing the tension creeping into Cait’s posture.

She didn’t answer at first. Her gaze lingered on the words a moment longer before she exhaled softly. “Alaric Vandergale’s been shot,” she said, voice quiet but weighted.

Vi froze, hand still on the back of Caitlyn’s chair.
“The asshole Councillor?”

Cait nodded. “He was found my the made in his study yesterday morning.”

Vi blinked, trying to process it. “Shit… any idea who did it?”

“Not yet. They’re keeping details tight,” Cait murmured, eyes flicking down the page again. “But this isn’t some random burglary, not with someone like Vandergale.”

"With his attitude it doesn’t surprise me he stepped on someone's toes." Vi leaned her hip against the table, frowning

“Could be,” Cait said softly, but her tone carried uncertainty. She set the letter down, smoothing its edges as if doing so could flatten the worry written between the lines. “We’ll need to head back. The council is having emergency meeting tonight. They will want answers.”

Vi nodded. She’d expected it, still, the disappointment was plain on her face. “Figures. Just when things were starting to feel… normal.”

Cait reached up, taking Vi’s hand from her shoulder and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “I was hoping we’d have more time together.”

Vi smiled faintly, brushing her thumb along Cait’s jaw. “Me too. Everyone’s finally relaxed for once… it’s been nice.”

Cait looked up, her expression softening. “So have you love. It’s nice to see you smile again.”

"And you..." Vi murmured leaning down catching her lips in a gentle kiss, one, then another, until it deepened into something that lingered.

The door creaked open.
Nyx and Jorin entered, fingers intertwined and faces still glowing from the morning chill.

“Oh, come on,” Nyx laughed. “The sun’s barely up and you two are already at it?”

Vi pulled back with a grin. “Says the woman who was making out in the library last night.”

Nyx went crimson, swatting the air. “That was... we were talking!”

“Right,” Vi teased, raising a brow. “Didn’t sound like talking.”

Cait giggled quietly, shaking her head. But the lightness faded as she straightened, glancing again at the letter.
“We’ve got a problem,” she said, her tone all business now.

The room stilled.

.....


The room was half-packed, clothes folded in neat stacks, boots by the door, the faint scent of pine from the window drifting in. Nyx knelt beside her open bag, sliding the last few things into place. When her fingers brushed against a worn photograph of her brother. The only one she managed to save before her apartment went up in flames.

His smile caught mid-laugh, the edges of the paper frayed from being handled too often. Her thumb traced his face, smoothing over the crease down the middle. The ache in her chest tightened until her eyes stung. She blinked fast, brushing the tears away with the back of her hand before they could fall.

Jorin noticed, he always did. He came up behind her, wrapping one strong arm around her small shoulders and pressing a long, steady kiss to her cheek.

Nyx sighed, her voice trembling just a little. “It’s back again. That pressure in my chest… I thought I’d finally shaken it off.”

Jorin didn’t say anything right away, just held her closer.

She swallowed hard. “I feel so damn torn, Jorin. I actually enjoyed this trip. I laughed. I slept. And my he’s out there...who knows where. Feels wrong to have had a good moment.”

Jorin shook his head softly. “Nyx… he wouldn’t want that. You know he wouldn’t. You’ve been running yourself ragged for months, tearing yourself apart over things that are not your fault.”

"I should’ve been smarter...I should've known it's too good to be true....gone with him...I..."

"Heeey... stop!"....
He turned her gently to face him, his hand finding the stray green strands across her forehead and brushing them aside. Then his palm cupped her cheek, warm and grounding.

Nyx leaned into his touch, eyes fluttering closed for a moment as if letting herself breathe for the first time.

"And then what? Get yourself killed? C’mere"

He pulled her in, she melted against his chest, arms wrapping around him tight, her breath shaky against his shirt.

“I love you,” she whispered into the fabric.

“I love you too,” he murmured, kissing the top of her hair.

The sound of the wind outside filled the silence that followed, soft, steady, and alive.

......

The grand doors of the Kiramman house swung open, the echo of footsteps and chatter filling the marble hall. House staff hurried to and fro, carrying trunks and travel bags, the sound of wheels and polished leather rolling across the floor.

Caitlyn stepped in first, the familiar scent of polished wood and tea leaves washing over her. “Feels strange to be back,” she murmured, glancing around the hall.

“Welcome home,” came Tobias’s voice. He appeared composed as ever, though there was something in his eyes, a heaviness that didn’t quite fit the moment.

“Father!” Caitlyn’s face brightened as she went straight to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He returned the hug with a faint, tired smile.

“Did you have a pleasant trip?” he asked, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face.

She nodded, kissing his cheek. “It was wonderful.”

Vi approached next, setting her gloves on the entry table. Tobias turned toward her, and before she could react, he pulled her into a hug.

Vi stiffened for a heartbeat, eyes widening as she looked over his shoulder at Caitlyn, who only smiled and shrugged.

“Missed you too, old man.” Vi grinned.

Tobias let out a quiet laugh, clapping her on the back before stepping away. But his smile faded almost immediately. His tone shifted lower.

“There’s something I need to discuss with you both,” he said. “In private.”

Caitlyn and Vi exchanged a look, the kind that spoke volumes without a word.
Caitlyn’s brows drew together. “What happened?”

“Not here,” Tobias replied. His voice was firm, clipped. “My study, if you please.”


.....


The heavy door clicked shut behind them, muting the sounds of the house.
Tobias stood by his desk, hands clasped behind his back.

“I won’t soften it,” he said quietly. “The parcel arrived... Addressed to Nyx. No sender. I thought I should check before it's given to her. When I opened it…” His voice faltered for a fraction of a second before he composed himself. “It contained a human ear. With a note attached to it.. Your brother sends his greetings.”

"What?" Caitlyn’s eyes widened in horror

For a heartbeat, silence swallowed the room.

“Fuck…” Vi muttered, dropping heavily into the armchair. She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, running a hand down her face.

Cait sighed closing her eyes for a one breath trying to compose herself "What sort of animal..."

“Charoite.” Vi cut through, her eyes flicked up to Caitlyn.

"How are we even going to say this to Nyx" Cait exhaled "That poor girl will loose her mind."

Vi straightened a little, her jaw tight. “At least now we know he’s alive.”

“Vi!....How can you even say that?” Cait snapped, she got up so abruptly her chair scraped the floor.

“I’m being realistic, Cait,” Vi said, voice steady but low. “As sick as it is, it’s proof of life. He’s still out there somewhere. That’s something.”

“Vi is right" Tobias exhaled slowly, his hand dragging down his face.. "Grim as it sounds, this indicates the man lives.”

Caitlyn turned away, swallowing hard, her composure beginning to crack.

Vi looked up at Tobias. “You can’t keep this from her, old man. She deserves the truth.”

Caitlyn nodded quietly. “I agree. She’ll find out either way, I suppose hearing it is better then seeing it. If that should be any consolation at all.”

Tobias let out a long sigh, rubbing at his temples. “The Deputy Sheriff insists she’ll have to give a statement today."

"Absolutely not!" Caitlyn jumped. "I will handle that....in time. And certainly not today."

Vi pushed herself upright. “I will let let Jorin know. He can tell her. He’s the only one she’ll listen to right now. He’ll break it gently.”

Caitlyn’s expression softened. “Poor girl… she’s already been through hell.”

Tobias nodded grimly. “The deputy will return this evening to collect her statement. I’ll let him know you’ll handle it, Caitlyn.”

“I will,” she said, already slipping into her composed tone, efficient, focused. “But first I need to change. The Council meeting’s in two hours, and I’ve still got to go through all the reports before then.”

Vi watched her, jaw tightening. “You sure you’re alright?”

“No. But I don’t have the luxury of falling apart right now.”

She left the study, the door closing softly behind her, leaving Tobias and Vi in the quiet, the ticking of the clock the only sound left between them.

.....


Stacks of reports and photographs covered the table in Caitlyn’s study like a paper battlefield. The lamp cast a warm circle of light over the chaos, glinting off the polished brass edges of Caitlyn’s sidearm resting nearby.

She sat upright, her eyes scanning another page, lips pressed into a thin line. Across from her, Vi leaned back in her chair, flipping through a folder of ledgers and bank statements with one hand while sipping lukewarm coffee with the other.

“Looks like Vandergale got himself a pretty fat sum about two weeks ago,” Vi said, tapping a page. “Anonymous donation. No sender, no note, nothing.”

Caitlyn glanced up. “Could be connected to the Border Foundation. They handle all sorts of funding transfers. Some private.”

“Maybe,” Vi said, still skimming. “But did you know he had investments in Ver-Tech Labs?”

Caitlyn raised a brow. “Ver-Tech? That’s… interesting. Could be coincidence. He had shares in plenty of firms, but still, we shouldn't disregard it. Note it down.”

Vi nodded, scribbling a quick reminder before tossing another sheet aside.

The silence between them stretched, only the rustle of paper and the faint tick of the clock.

Then Caitlyn froze. “Wait a second…”

Vi looked up. “What?”

She pulled one of the crime scene photos closer, her sharp eyes narrowing. “The trajectory here doesn’t add up.”

“Trajectory?”

“Look at this.” She pointed to the image, where chalk outlines and markers covered the marble floor. “They claim the shot came from the building opposite, about forty metres across. But judging by these photos the slug that was recovered, the entry angle’s steeper. Too clean. That shot was taken from further away, and higher up."

Vi leaned over the table, frowning. “You’re saying they checked the wrong roof?”

Caitlyn was already unfolding a map, spreading it across the papers. “Exactly.” Her finger traced a line between the Councillor’s balcony and the surrounding rooftops. “Here...they swept this building. But if you factor in the angle and range…” She pointed to a taller structure across the main street. “It came from there.”

Vi nodded slowly. “Makes sense."

Caitlyn’s eyes flicked to the clock on the wall. “Shit...” She stood abruptly. “I’m late....The Council meeting,” She groaned, sweeping the papers into her bag. “I still need to review the incident briefs before I get there.”

Vi grinned faintly. “You want me to take your report to the station?”

“Please,” Caitlyn said, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Ask for Forensics to sweep that roof. They’ll find something, casing, residue, maybe even a vantage setup. Also, I want the household  staff  to be questioned again. The stories don't  line up."

Vi gave her a mock salute. “On it.”

Caitlyn leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. “Thank you, darling. I appreciate it.”

“Go knock ’em dead,” Vi said with a grin.

Caitlyn smirked as she headed for the door. “And don’t wait for me with dinner... I’ll eat when I get back.”

Vi watched her go, the sound of Caitlyn’s heels fading down the corridor, then looked back at the open map, the mark Caitlyn’s pen had left still smudged on the paper.
“Wrong roof, huh,” she muttered to herself, reaching for her coat.

....


The Council chamber was quiet now. Caitlyn exhaled softly, straightening the stack of documents before her. The report had gone over better than expected, the councillors seemed satisfied, even complimentary, despite the investigation still being open.

Discussions had turned briefly to the funeral formalities, processions, speeches. It all felt procedural, distant. Caitlyn kept her composure throughout, though her mind was still half on the photographs she’d been studying earlier.

When the meeting adjourned, people began to file out, murmuring, polite nods, rustling papers. Caitlyn gathered her things, ready to slip away, when a low voice stopped her.

“Hey Kiramman,” Sevika said from behind her.

Caitlyn turned. She was leaning slightly against the marble pillar, her coat slung over one shoulder, expression unreadable.

“Do you have a minute?” Sevika asked.

"Always" Caitlyn’s gaze flicked down, there was a fresh gash across Sevika’s forearm, hastily bandaged. “Your arm....What happened?” she asked, frowning.

“Not here,” Sevika muttered. Her tone was quieter now, almost wary. “You got time for a drink?”

Caitlyn hesitated for a breath. Once upon a time, she would’ve refused without a thought. Sevika had been her enemy, a shadow in Zaun’s underbelly. But the last few months had changed things. Agreements had been made, lines redrawn, and unexpected alliances had begun to take root.

She gave a small nod. “Just one.”

Sevika’s mouth curved slightly, not a smile, but something close. “That’ll do.”

As they stepped out of the grand chamber and into the evening light spilling through the high windows, Caitlyn couldn’t help but think how strange it was sharing a drink with the woman who once tried to kill her. And yet… this was Piltover now. Nothing was simple anymore.

.....

The hum of the precinct filled the air, the sound of typewriters clacking and boots echoing against the tiled floor. Vi stood by one of the desks, sleeves rolled up, flipping through a fresh stack of paperwork. In front  if her several officers.

“Alright,” she muttered, scribbling something at the top of a form, “we’ll need new sweep. The west roof." Her finger jabbed the map "Get forensics out there tonight. And I want everyone from the councillor’s household re-interviewed, all of them.”

"Oh come ooon" someone  complained  at the back "Again?...Why?"

She tapped her pen against the paper, eyes narrowing. “Half of their statements don’t line up, and I’m not interested in chasing shadows off bad testimony. Are you?"

"Suppose not." the officer shifted in his seat crossing his arms in frustration.

A few of the Enforcers nearby glanced at each other. One of them, a broad-shouldered man with a cocky grin, piped up, “Since when’re you the one giving orders?”

Vi looked up slowly, her expression flat. “Since the Sheriff of Piltover wants it done and Council wants answers,” she said.

He shifted in his seat, grin faltering.

She leaned forward on the desk. “You got a problem with that?”

“…No,” he said quickly.

“Good,” Vi said, straightening up and flicking the folder down in front of him. “Then let’s get moving.”

As the Enforcers scrambled to follow her instructions, Vi leaned back against the desk for a moment, rubbing the back of her neck. Between the paperwork, the evidence, and the half-finished cups of coffee littering the room, and this case taking priority over their investigation, the station suddenly felt heavier than usual.

She exhaled and grabbed her coat, already planning her next move.

.....

The place was small but lively, its warm light spilling out through frosted windows into the empty street. Piltover’s version of a pub,  polished brass, neat little tables, and not a single sticky floorboard in sight. Still, it had enough edge to make Sevika feel less out of place.

Caitlyn chose a corner table by the window, setting her gloves beside the glass and watching the snow falling outside.

Sevika lingered at the bar, ordering their drinks.
The bartender, a tall, wiry man with his hair slicked to perfection eyed her up and down as he poured. His nose wrinkled ever so slightly at the sight of her mechanical arm. Sevika noticed, smirked, and reached into her pocket.

She leaned qt the var waiting, pulled out a cigar, clamped it between her teeth, and flicked a lighter open. The tiny flame reflected off the brass taps.

The man behind the counter cleared his throat sharply. “Ahem.”

Sevika looked at him, cigar still hanging from the corner of her mouth.

He nodded toward the sign by the door: No smoking inside the premises.

She stared at it for a beat, then rolled her eyes, plucked the cigar from her mouth, “Aren’t you a fun bunch,” she muttered under her breath.

Snatching up both drinks, she sauntered back to the table. Caitlyn arched an eyebrow as she sat down opposite her, sliding the glass across.

“Trouble already?” Caitlyn asked, amused.

“Just Piltover hospitality,” Sevika said, leaning back in her chair and finally letting out a low chuckle.

Sevika set her glass down and leaned back, the leather of her jacket creaking faintly. “So,” she began, tone surprisingly even, “how was the vacation?”

Caitlyn blinked, taken off guard. “It was…” she paused, glancing down at her drink, “…very well, thank you.”

“Good.” Sevika nodded once, swirling the amber liquid in her glass. For a brief moment, neither spoke.

Then Caitlyn tilted her head slightly, cutting to the point. “You said you wanted to talk. About your arm?”

Sevika gave a short, humourless laugh. “My arm’s fine.” She flexed the metal fingers briefly, then sighed. “Had someone try to kill me, that’s all.”

Caitlyn nearly choked on her drink, coughing once into her hand. “I... I beg your pardon?”

“Relax, Kiramman,” Sevika muttered. “Didn’t stick. They’re the ones who ended up worse off.”

Caitlyn’s brow furrowed, but before she could respond, Sevika waved a dismissive hand. “That’s not why I’m here.”

She hesitated, glancing out the window. The street lamps reflected dimly in her eyes, making her look distant, almost uneasy. “I need your help.”

Caitlyn froze, utterly thrown. “You need help from me?”

Sevika nodded slowly. “Yeah. Don’t make me say it twice.”

For a long moment, Caitlyn just studied her, trying to read between the lines.

Finally, Sevika spoke again. “There’s someone who needs protection. Someone who doesn’t deserve to get caught up in all this shit because of me.”

Her voice had gone lower, rougher. “She’s got nothin’ to do with it, not the gangs, not the deals, not this mess we're in. I figured, Sheriff’s house...”

Caitlyn’s face softened slightly, though she masked it behind professional calm. “You want me to take her in.”

“I don’t want to,” Sevika muttered. “But yeah. You’re the only one who can. I can’t risk her getting dragged into this any deeper and pay the price for the decisions I made. She’s...” She stopped herself, jaw tightening. “She’s not built for this.”

Caitlyn watched her in silence for a beat, the weight of what Sevika had just said sinking in. It was strange, hearing genuine concern in her voice. "Sounds like someone you care about a great deal."

Sevika hesitated for just a heartbeat, then gave a small, crooked smirk. “Don’t make it weird"

"I'm not...You wouldn’t be here if it wasn't serious." Finally, Caitlyn exhaled. “All right. I'll  take her in"

Sevika’s eyes flicked up to her, surprise barely hidden behind her usual mask of indifference. “Just like that?”

Caitlyn’s mouth curved into the faintest hint of smile. "We have to stick together, no matter which side of the bridge we come from.”

Sevika gave a low, rough laugh, though there wasn’t much humour in it. “You sound like you actually believe that.”

“I do,” Caitlyn said simply. “Because I’ve seen what happens when people stop.”

For a second, something like respect passed between them. Sevika nodded once. “I owe you one.”

Caitlyn’s tone was dry, but her gaze was steady. “I’ll remember that.”

Sevika smirked faintly, finishing her drink. “Yeah. I bet you will.”

.....

Vi leaned back in the chair, tired eyes flicking up from her notes. “All right, let’s try this again,” she said, voice steady but edged with impatience. “You didn’t notice anyone unusual coming or going? No deliveries, no unlisted visitors?”

The maid, a timid woman in her forties with a spotless apron and nervous hands shook her head quickly. “No, miss. Only the Councillor’s regular guests. Nothing strange that I can recall.”

Vi sighed through her nose and rubbed at her temples. “Right. Ok, well that will be all. Thank you.”

The woman nodded, grateful for the dismissal. She reached the door and wrapped her fingers around the handle but then stopped.

“Actually…” she said slowly, glancing back over her shoulder.

Vi looked up. “Yeah?”

“There was someone,” the maid murmured, brows knitting as she tried to recall. “A few weeks ago. A woman came to see the Councillor. I didn’t recognise her. Thought maybe she was a business associate.”

Vi straightened a little. “Go on.”

“She wasn’t like the others. She… stood out.” The maid frowned, gesturing faintly. “Short but confident. Purple hair. Dressed very fine...just…not the way Topsiders do....If you understand what I'm saying ma'am..

"Yeah...I do...go on."

"And she had these eyes...”

“Violet?” Vi asked before she could stop herself.

The maid blinked. “Yes! Piercing, like she could see straight through you.”

Vi froze, her stomach flipping. For a moment, the room seemed smaller, the ticking of the wall clock suddenly too loud. She forced her expression to stay neutral, pen tapping lightly against her notebook.

“Right,” she said carefully, scribbling something down. “Did the Councillor seem… familiar with her?”

The maid nodded. “I think so. She was here for a while. I brought them tea, and when I came back to clear the tray, she was gone.”

Vi’s jaw tightened. “You didn’t catch her name?”

“No, miss. Sorry.”

Vi exhaled slowly, closing her notebook. “That’s all right. You’ve been helpful. You can go.”

As the maid slipped out, Vi leaned back in the chair again, staring at the empty doorway. Her pulse was thudding now, heavy and fast.

.....


The evening had settled into something almost comfortable. The salon was warm, lit by the soft glow of the fireplace. Gearhand sat back on the sofa, Elara asleep with her head in his lap, his hand gently stroking her hair.

Jorin was half-reclined in an armchair, fiddling with a small gadget while Nyx lounged across from him, a blanket draped over her legs. Vi leaned against the mantelpiece, a half-empty glass of whiskey dangling from her fingers.

“So, turns out,” Vi was saying, “the Councilor had a visitor a few weeks ago. Purple hair, violet eyes, fancy as hell.”

Nyx frowned. “Charoite.”

“Bingo.” Vi nodded grimly. “Looks like he was working with the bitch. Makes sense now how they got the house blueprints."

Gearhand whistled low. “Well, at least we know who ratted. Guess he wasn’t much use to ‘em after that.”

Jorin glanced up, voice low. “And they silenced him before he could talk.”

Before anyone could add more, the front door opened down the hall, followed by familiar, measured footsteps.

Caitlyn appeared in the doorway, still in uniform, the sharp lines of her coat softened by the lamplight. “Evening,” she greeted with a faint smile.

Everyone greeted her back, but Vi turned, smile fading into a puzzled frown when she noticed the figure behind Caitlyn.

A young girl hovered uncertainly in the doorway. She couldn’t have been more than twenty, thin, shoulders slightly hunched, clutching a a handle of a worn canvas bag with both hands in front of her.

Caitlyn stepped aside. “Everyone, this is Anika,” she said. “She’ll be staying with us for a while.”

There was a brief silence as everyone processed that. Nyx and Gearhand both offered small, polite waves. “Hi,” Nyx said cautiously.

“Evening,” Jorin added with a nod.

Caitlyn went on, tone steady. “She needs… protection. Temporarily. Please make her feel welcomed."

Vi blinked, then pushed off the mantelpiece and crossed the room toward them. She extended a hand to the girl. “I'm Vi...Welcome to the Kiramman witness protection programme,” she said with a crooked grin.

Anika’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh.. thank you, miss,” she said, still gripping her bag like it might float away.

Caitlyn shot Vi a look sharp enough to cut glass. Vi raised her brows innocently, then leaned closer, murmuring, “Could I have a word?”

Caitlyn smiled tightly at Anika. “Excuse me for just a moment.”

Before she could say another word, Vi was already steering her out by the forearm. The salon door clicked shut behind them.

Anika stood there awkwardly for a moment, eyes darting between the others. Her grip on the bag tightened just a little.

Nyx tilted her head and offered a small smile. “You hungry?”

Anika nodded hesitantly.

“Good,” Nyx said, standing up. “Cause Gearhand made stew, and I swear it’s edible this time.”

Gearhand looked mildly offended. “This time? It’s always edible.”

“Barely,” Nyx muttered with a smirk, leading the bewildered girl toward the kitchen. "But I'm sure Dora's got something if you don't like it."


Vi planted herself against the wall outside the salon, arms crossed, brow furrowed. “Care to explain,” she said, voice low but sharp, “who’s the girl?”

Caitlyn blinked at her, tilting her head in that infuriatingly calm way. “As a matter of fact… yes. She is Sevika’s girlfriend.”

Vi froze mid-breath. “…Sevika’s what?”

“Sevika’s girlfriend,” Caitlyn repeated, her tone steady, as if she were explaining a simple arithmetic problem.

Vi’s jaw dropped. Then, as if the revelation needed air, she burst out laughing. Loud, wheezing, slightly unhinged laughter that echoed down the hall.

“Sevika’s got a girlfriend?!” Vi howled, doubling over. Caitlyn immediately slapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide.

Vi peeked through her fingers, still laughing, disbelief written all over her face. “Wait… that’s her girlfriend?!”

“Yes, Vi,” Caitlyn said, giving her the please behave look. “That is… her girlfriend.”

Caitlyn slowly removed her hand and continued, “Well… we went for a drink, and she explained...”

“You went for a drink with Sevika?!”

Caitlyn’s eyes went wide, “Be serious!”

“I can’t!” Vi gasped between laughs.

“Violet Please!! ...FOCUS" Caitlyn groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“I’m trying!”
Caitlyn shot her a pointed look, and Vi took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. “All right… go on.”

“Well,” Caitlyn said, her voice softening, “they were attacked. I think someone’s trying to get rid of Sevika. She’s scared, Vi. The girl… she’s like a rabbit. Sevika just doesn’t want anything to happen to her.”

Vi blinked, then shook her head, letting out a low whistle. “Well, I’ll be damned… Sevika’s got a heart.”

.....



Nyx led Anika down the hall, the girl’s little bag clutched in both hands like it might float away if she loosened her grip even a bit. Her eyes kept drifting upward, wide as saucers, taking in every chandelier and carved archway like she’d been dropped into another world.

Nyx caught her staring and grinned. “Yeah, I know. Place is massive. You could shove half the Undercity in here and still have room for a dance floor.”

Anika blinked at her. “It’s… beautiful.”

“Mmhm. Give it a few days, you stop tripping over how shiny everything is. C’mon.”

She nudged the kitchen door open with her hip. The warm smell of Gearhand’s stew rolled out, spices, meat, something earthy that clung to your lungs in a good way. Anika hovered in the doorway like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed in.

Nyx plucked the bag from her hand and dropped it casually on the table. “There. Now you’ve got a free hand to sit your ass down.”

Anika sat, stiff as a board.

Nyx ladled stew into a bowl and slid it in front of her. “Eat. Gearhand will cry if you don’t.”

The girl barely had time to mutter a thank-you before Vi wandered in. She stopped in the doorway when she saw Anika, then softened.

“Hey,” Vi said softly as she stepped in

Anika looked up from her bowl. “Hi…”

“You doing alright?” Vi asked, voice gentler than anyone would expect from her. “Long day for you, yeah?”

Anika gave a tiny, unsure nod.

“You want a drink? Something warm?”

Another small nod

She opened a cabinet, pulled out a mug and poured some hot tea in it, then set it beside the girl’s stew.

“It helps settle the nerves,” she said as she sat across from her. “Figured you might need that.”

Anika wrapped both hands around the cup, like she wanted to disappear into the warmth.

Vi let a moment pass, giving her space.

“Don’t worry. We’ve all had rough nights,” she said gently, leaning forward, “Cait’s getting a room ready for you. We want you to feel comfortable. And I promise, everyone in this house is nice.” She smirked. “Crazy and fucked up, but nice.”

That earned the smallest, tiniest smile. "Thank you."

She waited until Anika looked up at her.

“Do you wanna tell me what happened?”

Anika’s throat worked. She stared into the stew as though it might give her courage. “Someone came. Few nights ago. They were trying to kill Sev.” Her voice cracked on the name.

Vi and Nyx exchanged a knowing look.

She forced out the rest in a rush. “I...I killed him. I didn’t mean... He was gonna choke her...I....I never killed anyone before.” Her hands trembled around the spoon, tears rolled down her cheeks.

Vi reached across the table, laying her hand over the girl’s. Warm. Steady.

“Sometimes we don’t get a choice,” Vi said quietly. “You did what you had to do. That’s why you’re both still here.”

Nyx leaned against the counter, arms folded but her voice gentle. “We’ve all been there. It’s not easy. And it’s not supposed to be. Feeling sick about it? That just means you’re human.”

A shaky breath left Anika, but she nodded.

“It’s all been too much for you. But you’re safe here,” Vi added.

Nyx brightened. “So, you and Sevika, huh? How’d that happen?”

Anika’s cheeks went a little pink. “My dad owns a bakery. She… used to come in every morning. She liked the warm bread and Steam Pockets.” She gave a helpless little smile. “We started talking. And then one day there was a fire, a pan of oil exploded. She got my father out before the whole place went up.”

Nyx let out a low whistle.

“After that,” Anika continued softly, “we just… spent more time together. She’s really nice you know. People don’t understand her.” Her eyes glistened. “I’m just so worried about her…” more tears spilled over her cheeks, her breath coming out shaky.

Vi squeezed her hand again. “Sevika’s tough. Tougher than anyone I’ve ever fought. She’ll make it. She always does. Eat your  food before  it gets cold, then we get you settled.”

Anika nodded, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand. And for the first time that night, she didn’t look so afraid.

.....


Caitlyn opened the door with a gentle smile. “Alright, this will be your room for now.”

Anika stepped in like she was entering a cathedral, eyes drifting over the tall window, the soft bedspread, the polished wood.

Caitlyn kept her tone warm and steady, careful not to overwhelm her further. “There are fresh towels on the dresser, and anything in the bathroom is yours to use. If you need to wash your clothes, the basket is just behind the door, feel free to put whatever you want in there.”

Anika nodded, shy, wide-eyed.

“Breakfast is usually at eight,” Caitlyn added, “but if you want to sleep in, feel free. The kitchen is always open...just walk in whenever you’re hungry. Dora always leaves some food on the stove and the ice box is filled with food. You're  welcome to take whatever you want."

Another small, almost timid nod.

“And if you need anything at all,” Caitlyn continued, stepping over to the wall, “press this bell. One of the house staff will come up right away.”

“Oh… thank you,” Anika murmured, overwhelmed but trying her best to keep up.

"Also you can ask me or Vi." Caitlyn gave her a reassuring smile. “I know it's not like home....but I do hope you feel comfortable here."
"You're very kind. I'm sure I will."

"Good night, Anika.”

“Good night, Miss Caitlyn…”

"Just Caitlyn..." she smiled and slipped out, closing the door softly behind her.

Vi was already leaning against the opposite wall, arms folded. “She looks absolutely petrified,” she muttered.

“And overwhelmed,” Caitlyn sighed. “I can’t blame her.”

Vi nodded. “Sevika did the right thing bringing her here. She’d burn like a matchstick in all this mess.”

At that, Caitlyn finally let the exhaustion crash over her. She sagged forward, resting her forehead against Vi’s shoulder with a soft groan.

Vi’s arms came up around her waist automatically. “Long day, huh?”

Caitlyn’s voice was muffled into her shirt. “Take me to bed before I fall asleep on the carpet.”

Vi huffed a laugh, brushing a kiss to the top of her head. “Aye aye, Sheriff.” She tightened her arm around her. “C’mon, love. Let’s get you horizontal before you collapse somewhere embarrassing.”

Cait giggled, her arms wrapping around Vi as she nuzzled her face into her neck.

Together, they headed down the hall.

.....


The pounding was violent enough to rattle the windows downstairs, not knocking, but hammering, like someone was trying to break the door off its hinges.

Caitlyn jerked awake, heart slamming against her ribs.

Vi bolted upright beside her. “What the fuck was that?”

“I...I don’t know.” Caitlyn threw off the blankets. “Someone’s at the door.”

“It’s four in the fucking morning,” Vi muttered, grabbing her trousers. “Who the hell...?”

Another boom. Yelling. Tobias’s voice, furious, strained, carried up through the floorboards.

Vi’s head snapped toward Caitlyn. “Is that your dad?!”

“What the hell…” Caitlyn muttered as she yanked open their bedroom door.

Nyx and Jorin burst out at the same time, half-dressed, both pale with alarm.
“What’s going on?” Nyx asked, voice sharp.

“No fucking clue,” Vi said, already moving.

They raced down the stairs. The house was bedlam.

Gearhand was on the steps, barefoot. Elara hovered behind him, clutching the railing.

Four Enforcers, helmets on, rifles raised, filled the foyer like invading soldiers.

Tobias was nose-to-nose with the deputy Sheriff, barely keeping himself from exploding.

“....by whose orders, damn you?!” he thundered.

And then Caitlyn’s voice cut through everything like a blade. “What is the meaning of this!"

Silence flattened the room. Even the officers froze.

The deputy Sheriff turned, face stiff with dread.
“Sheriff Kiramman… Caitlyn… I’m... I’m sorry. I’m placing you under arrest for the murder of Councillor Alaric Vandergale’s .”

The floor seemed to drop out from under Caitlyn.
“WHAT? That’s.... I don’t understand...”

“What the fuck do you mean?” Vi snarled.

One of the officers reached for Caitlyn’s wrists, but launched for him pushing him away “GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF HER!"

The officer stumbled  backwards crushing into the wall.

“This is preposterous!” Tobias roared. “On what grounds?!”

The deputy swallowed hard. “Shell casings from a Kiramman rifle were found at the scene. Recovered from the rooftop. We have to follow the evidence.”

“That is impossible!” Caitlyn snapped, shaking off another officer’s grip. “You know I wasn’t even in the district!”

"Cait… you know the drill," the deputy said miserably. "Procedures..."

“This is bullshit!” Nyx yelled from the stairs.

“Fuck your procedures!” Vi lunged forward, jabbing a finger in his chest. “She’s the one who ordered that roof checked! You know that!”

But an officer grabbed Vi from behind. She spun and punched him so hard the crack echoed like a rifle shot.

Everything exploded at once.

Two more rifles swung up, aiming straight at her.

"VI!!" Elara screamed and darted forward.

“Elara NOO...” Gearhand tried to grab her, but he was too slow. In a second Elara’s  little fists were punching officers leg. He shoved the girl aside with his full weight.

She hit the edge of a table with a sickening thud and crumpled.

Gearhand’s roar shook the room. “ELARA!” he pushed the officer to get to his daughter but got a rifle pointed into his face.

Vi saw red. “I'm gonna fucking kill you I swear!”

She launched herself at the officer. Her fist smashed into his face so hard he dropped his weapon as blood spattered the floor.

Tobias grabbed Vi, arms locked around her shoulders like iron. “VI! STOP! ENOUGH!”

She thrashed against him like a wild animal.
“You motherfucking piece of shit!”

“VI!” Caitlyn’s voice rang out over everything.

She had wrestled herself free, hair disheveled, breath shaking.

Every gun swung toward them.

“STAND DOWN!” the deputy shouted, panic breaking through his voice. It all went quiet for a beat. Elara’s crying was the only sound in the room. “STAND DOWN!” he repeated one more time before the guns finally lowered.

Gearhand scrambled to Elara, lifting her gently. Blood streamed from her scalp.

“Daddy…” she whimpered, clutching at him.

Tobias was shaking with fury. “YOU COME INTO MY HOUSE....”

“STOP!” Caitlyn cried out. “STOP. ALL OF YOU.”

Her hands trembled, but she raised them, wrists together.

Vi stared at her in horror. “Cait… no. Don’t you dare.”

An officer cuffed her.

"Cait...what are you doing?"

Caitlyn stepped closer, lifting her bound hands to cup Vi’s cheek. “It’s going to be fine,” she whispered. Soft. Steady. The voice she used only for her. She leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to Vi’s lips.

“The hell it is,” Vi choked, fury and tears burning her eyes.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Cait murmured.

Vi shook her head. “Cait…”

Caitlyn brushed her thumb over Vi’s lips. “Promise me.”

The fight drained out of Vi in a trembling exhale. Her eyes glistened.

The deputy spoke quietly, turning toward her. “She’ll have every chance to clear her name.”

“Fuck you,” Vi spat.

Tobias shoved past an officer to reach his daughter. He cupped her face, kissed her forehead. “I’m on it, darling. We’ll have this sorted by lunchtime, I swear.”

But the officers were already dragging her toward the door.

The deputy Sheriff couldn’t bring himself to look back. “Procedure only. I’m sorry.”

“Go to hell,” Tobias snarled.

The door slammed behind them.

Silence swallowed the foyer, until Vi kicked a side cabinet so hard it splintered.

“FUCK!”

......

The transport jolted so violently Caitlyn nearly slid off the narrow metal bench.
The inside of the vehicle was dark, damp, and smelled of oil and old rust.
Every rattle of the wheels echoed through the hollow metal shell, vibrating up her spine.

She sat hunched, still in her pajamas, thin cotton clinging to her skin, useless against the freezing metal beneath her.
The bench felt like a block of ice.
Cold seeped through the fabric, numbing her legs.

Her wrists throbbed.
The cuffs had been tightened too far, biting into bone.
She could feel her pulse beating against the metal.

But the cold and the pain were nothing compared to the storm inside her chest.

Her heart was hammering so hard she felt sick.
Her mind kept replaying Vi’s face.

Vi…

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to breathe, but the breath came out sharp and uneven.

The vehicle lurched to a stop.

For a second, the silence was suffocating.

Then the iron doors groaned open, flooding the interior with a blast of winter air.

Harbour wind knifed into her face, sharp, briny, cruel.
The smell of salt, oil, and cold seawater rushed in.

A hand gripped her arm, steadying her as she was guided out.

“Be careful,” the officer murmured, trying to soften his tone.
He helped her down the metal step, keeping her from slipping on the frost.

Snowflakes drifted lazily from the sky, melting the moment they touched her flushed skin.
The docks were silent at this hour, only fog, water, and the faint groaning of ships.

Another transport was waiting.

The cable-car.
A reinforced metal gondola, thick, windowless, hanging from steel wires above the black water below.
It swayed slightly in the wind, creaking like an old beast breathing in its sleep.

Their footsteps echoed on the wooden planks as they approached.
Each step sounded too loud, too final.

Caitlyn’s breath quickened.
Her fingers were trembling so hard the cuffs clinked together.

The officers opened the heavy door.
She was escorted inside, a featureless metal box, claustrophobic and cold.

The door slammed shut.

The cable groaned as the gondola lifted, swinging out over the fog and water.
The city lights faded behind her until there was nothing but darkness.

When it docked, it hit the landing with a harsh clang.

The doors were hauled open again, this time by Stillwater guards.

Blinding dock lights cut through the fog like white knives.
Cold wind whipped straight through her pajamas, striking her like she was standing naked.

She gasped, teeth chattering uncontrollably.

Stillwater loomed ahead, a massive, jagged silhouette rising out of the mist.
Stone walls black as obsidian, electrified fences humming faintly.
It looked less like a prison and more like a living creature, a titan forged of stone and steel, waiting to swallow her whole.

A guard shoved her between the shoulders.

“Move.”

She stumbled forward, barely catching herself before her knees hit the frozen ground.

The wind roared around her, the fog closing in like hands. She got up and continued  to walk.

Another shove.

“Faster.”

Her breath hitched.
Her legs shook violently from cold and fear.
She tried to keep her head up, but the dread was crushing.

Stillwater towered above her, merciless and unwelcoming.

Every step dragged her closer to its jaws.

And she couldn’t stop shaking.

......

Processing was quick, clinical, and utterly devoid of humanity.

They took her fingerprints first.
Cold ink against colder skin.
Her hands trembled so much the guard had to steady her wrist.

Then came the camera.

The flash exploded in her face, white and violent.
She jolted, heart slamming into her ribs.

Vi…

The thought hit her with such force she felt dizzy.

Seven years ago Vi had walked this path with shackles around her ankles. A sixteen years old child. No family. Broken, frightened and abandoned.

Caitlyn swallowed hard.

Her chest burned.
She held onto that anger, that grief, that love, because if she let herself feel her own fear, she’d collapse.

A commotion shattered her thoughts.

Two guards were arguing over her paperwork.

“I’m telling you, she’s not to be put in general population,” the escorting officer snapped, slamming the folder onto the desk. “She’s the Sheriff of Piltover, she has separate procedures.”

The Stillwater guard scoffed. “I have my orders.”

“You can’t stick her in with them. Do you know what will...”

“I SAID,” the guard cut him off, stabbing a finger toward the papers, “I have my orders. She goes where she’s assigned.”

Caitlyn lifted her head, her voice steadying with righteous fury.

“He’s right. If you think I’m going to....”

The backhand came out of nowhere.

The slap cracked across her face so hard her vision burst into stars.
She staggered, catching herself on the metal table.

A metallic tang filled her mouth.

She spat blood on the floor.

“You will NOT silence me,” she hissed, breath shaking. “When I get out of here, people will ANSWER for this.”

Another guard raised his hand ready to strike again.

But the officer who brought her grabbed his wrist mid-air.

“That’s enough.”

The room froze.
Paperwork was stamped, tossed, filed.

Decision made.

Two guards seized her by the arms.

She was dragged to the elevator.

The metal cage rattled as it lowered.
Down.
Down.
Down.

Past levels she didn’t want to think about.

The dial spun, ticking through numbers that meant nothing, until it landed on one that did

–17

The doors scraped open.

A blast of cold air hit her first.
Then the smell, iron, damp stone, sweat, human decay.

The hallway stretched before her like something carved from a nightmare.
Stone walls weeping moisture. Cells lined both sides.

As soon as she stepped out, the prisoners stirred.

Hands wrapped around bars. Faces pressed against metal. Eyes gleaming like predators sensing wounded prey. A whistle echoed.
Then another.

“Look what we got here…”

“Hey ...It’s Sheriff Kiramman.”

The name rippled down the corridor like wildfire.

Voices exploded around her:

“Pretty thing like you won’t last long down here!”
"I swear I know her, you locked me up Kiramman"
"Come closer sweetheart, let me get a good look"

A hand shot out between bars, grabbing for her hair,  she ducked, the guards yanking her forward.

The noise grew into a hurricane.Howls.
Threats. Laughter so twisted it crawled under her skin. They stopped at a cell halfway down.
The door screeched open. She was shoved inside so hard she fell to her knees.
A bundle of coarse prison clothes was thrown after her, landing beside her hands.

The cuffs were removed.

The bars slammed shut.

Bolts locked.

Then footsteps retreating, fading, disappearing into the depths of the hallway.

Silence seeped in slowly.

Caitlyn lifted her head.

The cell was a stone box. Walls covered in desperate scratches and scrawled names.
A thin, filthy mattress lay crooked on the floor.
A dented metal bucket sat in the corner, already reeking. Cold air bit at her skin. Her cheek throbbed. Her lip tasted like blood and iron. And somewhere above her, far away, in another world
Vi was awake right now.

Pacing.
Raging.
Terrified.

Caitlyn exhaled shakily. One one thought went  through her mind. You survived this, Violet.
So will I.

....


Every light on the ground floor blazed, throwing long shadows across the foyer. Tobias sat on the sofa, his hands steady as he worked a needle through the back of Elara’s scalp. The girl sat rigid, jaw tight, doing her best not to flinch. She’d been brave through the whole thing, braver than any child should ever have to be.

“Last stitch,” Tobias murmured gently. “You’re doing perfectly.”

Nyx paced the length of the room like a caged animal. She reached automatically for a cigarette, then froze, glancing guiltily at Tobias.

He exhaled sharply. “Go on. Just this once.”

Nyx didn’t waste the invitation, she flicked her lighter and took a long, furious drag. Smoke curled above her head like steam off boiling water.

“I still don’t understand what the fuck happened,” she snapped. “None of this makes sense.”

Gearhand, leaning on the wall beside the hearth, ran a hand down his face. “As if Cait would incriminate herself by ordering a sweep of the damn roof.” He shook his head. “Or leave behind Kiramman-shell bullets like some rookie. A police officer leaving her own family crest lying around? Fucking hell.”

Jorin sat at the edge of an armchair, hands clasped between his knees. “They’re either idiots, or someone wants her framed so bad they didn’t bother making it believable.”

Before anyone could respond, a door slammed somewhere deeper in the house hard enough to rattle the chandelier.

Nyx barked a laugh. “Found Vi.”

A moment later Vi strode into the room, boots heavy, eyes carved from stone. She didn’t look at anyone until she reached Elara.

Her expression softened instantly.

“You alright, kiddo?” she asked, voice low.

“Mmhmm.” Elara didn’t move, Tobias still finishing the last stitch.

Vi brushed a kiss to her forehead. “You were brave as hell. So proud of you.”

Then she turned, heading straight for the coat draped over the armchair.

“Where are you going?” Tobias demanded, rising slightly.

“To fix this shit,” Vi said, already shrugging the coat on. “Pardon my language.”

“Vi!” Tobias barked.

But she was gone before the echo faded, the front door slamming like punctuation behind her.

Nyx exhaled a plume of smoke. “She’s losing her mind. Poor girl’s running on rage and fumes.”

“So now what?” Jorin asked, rubbing his palms together nervously. “Do we just… sit here? And wait?”

Tobias checked the clock on the mantel. “Two more hours. The lawyer’s on his way.”

Anika stood near the banister, arms wrapped around herself. She looked small, shaken. “They can’t keep her… right?”

“No,” Tobias said firmly. “They can’t. I’m more concerned with why they wanted her taken this way.”

Nyx tapped ash into an empty mug. “Feels like they wanted her isolated. Off her turf. Surrounded by people she doesn’t control.”

Tobias gave a slow, grim nod. His jaw flexed. “She’s a smart girl.”

Gearhand huffed. “You trying to convince us, or yourself, Tobi?”

“Both,” he muttered. He clipped the last bit of thread and pressed a bandage gently to Elara’s head. “There we go. Good as new. Just no running around or starting fights you definitely can’t win.”

Elara finally cracked a small smile and hopped off the sofa.

“Careful, pumpkin,” her father sighed. “What did he just say?”

Tobias straightened, rolling his stiff shoulders. Then he pointed toward his study. “There might be some sweets in the jar on my desk.”

Elara’s eyes lit up instantly, injury forgotten. She dashed off.

Nyx snorted. “You’re easily bought, kid.”

But the moment of levity couldn’t soften the air in the room for long.

The silence that followed was heavy, thick enough to choke on as everyone waited for dawn.


....


Back at Piltover’s police station, Vi exploded through the doors so hard the hinges rattled.

The officer at the main desk jerked upright. “Excuse me....you can’t just....”

She didn’t bother answering. She just flipped him the middle finger without even looking at him, her boots already hammering down the hall.

She slammed her palm against the Deputy’s office door, throwing it open so violently it crashed into the wall, bounced back, and nearly hit her again.

The Deputy shot up like someone jabbed a needle in his backside. “Vi! What the hell are you...”

She cut him off by slapping a paper down on his desk so hard his ink bottle shook. “Here.”

He blinked. “What’s this?”

“My signed confession.”

“Vi…” He rubbed a hand over his forehead. “Please. Just go home.”

“I’m not fucking going anywhere,” she growled, shoving the paper into his chest, “until you sign the release forms. So read it.”

With a defeated sigh, he grabbed his glasses and scanned the first few lines. He didn’t make it far. By the third sentence, he dropped the glasses again.

“This is insane.”

“This is insane?” Vi barked a laugh. “But locking up the Sheriff of Piltover isn’t? What is it...you want a promotion? Someone promised to polish your boots for you? Or is it the council’s ass you’re kissing these days?”

“That’s enough,” he snapped. “Go home. Cool off.”

“Sign the damn release papers,” she shot back, “and arrest me while you’re at it. Then you’ve got your neat little closed-case, and you can keep licking Councillor’s boots in peace.”

“You didn’t do it, Vi.”

“I had opportunity,” she said, jaw tight. “And motive.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, really.”

“So you made that shot from a hundred yards across the street.” His voice was dripping with disbelief.

Vi didn’t answer. She didn’t blink. She just stared him down, the room thick enough to choke on.

He lost his patience first.

“Fine,” he snarled and unholstered his gun, slammed it on the desk and pointed at the dartboard hanging behind his door. “Shoot it. Go on. You hit that bullseye, maybe I’ll pretend to believe you.”

For a moment, Vi didn’t move. Then she stepped forward, grabbed the gun, and raised it to aim.

Before her finger even brushed the trigger, he yanked it back out of her hands. “Give me that before you kill someone.”

“Fine,” she hissed. “I’ll do it my way.”

She ripped her badge off and slammed it down beside the scattered papers then turned, grabbed the door handle with enough force to nearly tear it free, and stormed out.

“I’ve had enough of your shit!" he yelled
"... you’re fired!”

“Suck my dick!” she shouted back without slowing down.


.....


Nearly an hour later, the front door slammed open so hard the walls shuddered. Vi marched inside, jaw locked, boots pounding against the polished floorboards as she headed straight for the stairs.

Tobias looked up from the sitting room the moment he heard her.
“Vi!” he called.

“Not now,” she muttered, not slowing, not looking at him.

But Tobias was not a man easily dismissed.

“Violet.” His voice cracked through the house like a whip. “As long as you are in my home, you will not turn your back on me.”

That stopped her.

Mid-step, she froze. Shoulders tense. Head bowed breathing heavily. She didn’t turn, couldn’t. Not with the way her throat was closing.

Tobias walked up the stairs with measured, deliberate steps, each one soft but unyielding. When he reached her, he rested a steady hand on her shoulder, gentle but firm enough to break through the armour she’d built around herself.

“We will bring her home,” he said quietly, with that calm, clipped precision he always had. “I give you my word. But you need to breathe my dear. You need to calm yourself.”

Vi exhaled shakily, a sound half-way between a sigh and a sob. The fight drained out of her all at once, leaving something far more fragile behind, fear. Helpless, gut-twisting fear she’d been trying to outrun.

Tobias stepped around to face her.

Vi lifted her chin just enough to look at him, eyes glassy. A single tear slipped down her cheek, carving a line through the grime and fury. She let out a breath she didn’t even realise she’d been holding, shoulders collapsing inward.

Tobias didn’t hesitate.

He slid his hand to the back of her neck and pulled her into his chest, his other arm wrapping around her with the quiet authority of a parent.

“Easy,” he murmured against her hair. “Breathe.”

That was all it took.

Vi broke, silently, violently, but without shame. Her fists stayed clenched at her sides, knuckles white, but her arms came up around him in a desperate grip, holding on like he was the only thing keeping her from falling apart.

He stroked the back of her neck, grounding her with slow, steady pressure. “We will sort this out together...” he said. “All of it. You are not alone in this Vi.”

Vi pressed her forehead into his shoulder, breath shaking, tears falling freely now.

And for the first time that day, she let someone carry the weight for her.

.....


Caitlyn lay curled on the filthy mattress, shivering so violently her teeth ached. The flimsy  stinking  blanket she was given did little  to keep her warm. Every few minutes something skittered across her ankle, a cockroach, or several, and each time her leg jerked involuntarily. But she was too exhausted, too cold, too dehydrated to even brush them away.

The chill had sunk deep into her bones. Her lips were cracked. Her tongue felt like sandpaper. She would have traded anything, anything for just a mouthful of water.

She folded her arms tight around herself, trying to hold in what little warmth she still had. It barely helped. The cold was predatory here, crawling under her skin, settling in her ribs.

She was on the edge of sleep from sheer  exhaustion when she heard footsteps.
Soft. Careful. Wrong. Her body went rigid.

She kept her eyes half-lidded, breathing shallowly, pretending to still be drifting near sleep, but every fibre of her was sharpened to a point. Listening.

The steps drew closer. Slow. Deliberate. Someone trying hard not to be heard.

Her heart began to pound so loudly she could hear her pulse thundering in her ears. Every breath was strained, icy.

The lock clicked. Metal on metal, deliberate, quiet, practiced. Her cell door eased open.

For one paralyzing heartbeat, she stayed still.
Then she saw the shadowed feet approach her, inching closer across the stone floor.

Now.

With a burst of raw, desperate strength, Caitlyn shot upright and latched onto the man’s ankle, twisting hard. Bone ground under her grip. The assailant stumbled, losing balance just long enough for her to scramble to her feet.

A knife flashed in the dark.

Cait didn’t hesitate. She lunged, catching his wrist, twisting sharply. Pain jolted through her arm, but she didn’t let go. The blade clattered across the floor.

The man slammed into her like a bull, crushing her against the wall. Her ribs screamed.

She drove her knee into his stomach.
He grunted barely but it loosened his hold enough for her to slip sideways.

He swung. A brutal, heavy punch connected with her cheekbone. Cait's vision sparked white, but she struck back, hitting whatever part of him she could reach, jaw, shoulder, throat.

They crashed to the floor, rolling. He was heavier, stronger, survival made her faster.

She shoved her forearm under his chin, using all her body weight to force him down. For a breathless moment she had him pinned.

Then his hand broke free and he shoved her off.
Her head snapped back and cracked against the stone wall. Pain exploded across her skull. The world spun, nausea surged.

The knife...She saw it. Just beyond his shoulder.

Cait lunged for it, but his hand caught her wrist mid-reach. He smashed it down onto the stone with brutal force. Skin tore open along the back of her hand. Blood smeared across the floor.

She screamed, but it was pure fury, not fear.
She bucked her hips, twisting with every ounce of strength in her body, throwing him off-balance. Her free hand closed around the knife.
She didn’t think, didn’t plan, just struck.

The blade drove into his temple with a sickening crack. The man spasmed once then collapsed fully, all his dead weight slamming down on top of her.

Cait lay there for a moment, gasping, pinned under the corpse, her own breath hot and ragged in the freezing air. Then she realised the cell door was opened.

She shoved him off, snatched the knife, and stumbled to her feet. Her hand was dripping blood, her head pounding but she didn’t care.
She ran.

Down the corridor, past leering shadows and iron bars, her feet slapping the stone. Every turn looked the same but she followed the faint memory of the way she’d been taken. Elevators.
Just ahead. She sprinted, legs burning, lungs tearing. She rounded the last corner but a rifle butt swung out of the darkness on her blind side like a hammer. It smashed into the side of her face with bone-cracking force.

Her vision erupted in white, then black. Her knees buckled. The knife slipped from her hand.
And the world swallowed her whole.

.....

Eight o’clock. Exactly on the dot.

The small transport boat bumped against the dock, and Tobias was the first to rise, straightening his coat as if preparing to walk into a courtroom rather than the most feared prison in Piltover. Vi jumped out first, boots hitting the frost-slick boards, and immediately turned to steady him with an outstretched hand. Tobias accepted it with a brief, grateful nod before stepping onto the dock with Mr. Pine right behind him, the lawyer holding his folio of documents.

When Vi finally lifted her eyes, Stillwater loomed above them.

A mountain of stone and steel rising straight from the sea, colourless, windowless, lifeless. Even in daylight it looked like it shouldn’t exist, like something carved out of a nightmare. The wind coming off it felt colder than the ocean spray, colder than anything Vi had felt in years. Her skin prickled, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Her stomach twisted.

A hand settled on her shoulder, firm, steadying. Tobias. He didn’t say a word, didn’t need to. The weight of his hand pulled her back from the edge of her own spiraling thoughts.

Together, the three of them began walking toward the entrance.

Tobias and Mr. Pine were deep in discussion, muttering about procedure, evidence tampering, and jurisdiction. Their words floated around Vi like fog, but she barely absorbed a syllable.

She kept her eyes forward, jaw tight, fists tighter.
All she could think about was Caitlyn. Pulling her into her arms, burying her face in her hair, breathing her in. Feeling the warmth of her body pressed against her chest.

Her hands curled into fists so tight her knuckles cracked as she matched Tobias’s steps up the stone stairway, shoulders squared, eyes hard.


.....

Inside Stillwater, the air felt colder than outside. Dim. Damp. Like the walls themselves were sweating.

Tobias, Vi, and Mr. Pine stood before a raised iron desk, where a guard, thick-necked, smug as Vi remembers him, slowly flipped through an enormous ledger. Each page turn sounded like an insult. He sucked air through his teeth, shaking his head as though personally offended by the existence of paperwork.

It had already been fifteen minutes.

Vi’s jaw ticked. Her foot tapped. Mr. Pine kept clearing his throat. Tobias was trying, and failing, to remain civil.

“I do not understand,” Tobias snapped, voice ricocheting through the stone hall, “how you cannot find her. She was delivered into your custody less than four hours ago.”

The guard didn’t look up. “Patience,” he drawled, flipping another page. “You said… Kiramman, wasn’t it?”

“YES,” Tobias barked, throwing his hands up. “Good heavens, this is preposterous. Are you telling me you simply lose prisoners in here?”

The guard smirked, slow, cruel, deliberate. “Oh, you’d be surprised what gets lost in Stillwater.”

That was it. Vi wasn’t just done, she was past done.

Before Tobias or Pine could blink, she vaulted up the step behind the desk, grabbed the guard by the collar, and slammed his face into the ledger so hard the entire hall echoed with the crack.

“How about we jog that memory of yours?” she hissed into his ear.

“I don’t know where she is!” he wheezed, face mashed against the page.

Vi didn’t hesitate. She snatched up the heavy iron seal from the desk, a dense, fist-sized block of metal and slammed it down on his hand.

The snap of bone was unmistakable.

The guard shrieked.

“Try again or we're gonna continue this CHAT ” Vi roared. “WHERE. IS. SHE?”

Two guards stormed into the hall at the noise, weapons half-drawn but Mr. Pine spun on them, voice echoing with terrifying calm.

“If either of you takes one more step, I will be filing a formal misconduct charge with the Council within the hour, requesting your immediate suspension pending investigation. Do not test me.”

They froze.

Vi slammed the seal down again, harder. Another crack. Tobias flinched at the sound.

The guard screamed, tears spilling from the corners of his eyes.

“Start making sense,” she growled, leaning her weight on his back, “or I swear on every god you know you’re gonna be writing with your elbows for the rest of your miserable life.”

....

The elevator groaned as it descended, slow, grinding, as though reluctant to carry them any deeper into Piltover’s shame. Tobias stood rigidly, gloved hands clenched, he looked around at the rusting walls, at the flickering lights, at the moisture dripping down the metal like tears.

“This is appalling,” he muttered under his breath. “I’ll be writing to the Council the moment we return and authorising a significant sum for immediate renovation...This is barbaric.”

Vi let out a short, humourless laugh and turned her head toward him.

“Hits different when it’s one of your own, huh?” she said, voice low, not cruel but honest, too honest for him to dodge. “Maybe you can finally push through that paperwork Cait filed three months ago.”

Tobias stiffened. Colour drained from his face and was replaced by hot shame. He opened his mouth to speak then closed it. He had nothing. No excuse. No defence.

For years Piltover pretended not to see the rot beneath its own gold. Now the stench was unavoidable.

“How far down does this go?” Mr. Pine asked, uneasy eyes on the dial as the numbers ticked lower.

“To the pits of the underworld,” Vi replied. And she meant it.

The elevator shuddered violently as it hit -17, then lurched to a stop.

The gate clanged open.

A guard led them down the corridor, cold stone, dripping pipes, prisoners awake and whispering, the smell of rust and old fear crawling under the skin. Vi’s heart hammered harder with every step.

Then she saw her.

A lone figure at the end of the cell. One hand braced weakly against the wall above her head.
Feet on the frozen ground. Her back bowed, shivering.

“Cait…” Vi breathed, barely a whisper, her voice breaking before the name even finished leaving her mouth.

Caitlyn’s head snapped toward the sound, lightning-fast, “Vi!” she cried, and the word cracked.

She launched at the bars, fingers slamming into them so hard the metal rang. Vi met her in an instant, their hands threading together through the gap, gripping like they were drowning.

“Dad...!” Caitlyn gasped, eyes flicking past Vi.

"Your face!" he gasped

The guard fumbled with the keys, shaking under Mr. Pine’s glare before finally getting the cell unlocked.

The moment the door swung open, Caitlyn threw herself forward. They collided hard, stumbling, crushing into one another. Vi wrapped her up instantly, arms locking around her spine, lifting her slightly off the ground just to feel her breathe, just to convince herself she wasn’t imagining this.

Caitlyn’s body shook violently in her arms.

"Why is she barefoot?" Tobias roared at the guard

Vi pulled back for a moment, cupping her face, brushing her thumb gently across her cheek where the swollen bruise still bloomed dark and angry.

She swallowed hard, barely holding her composure. “Who did this to you?” she whispered, not for an answer but because seeing it nearly broke her.

“I’m fine,” Caitlyn tried to smile, but her voice trembled. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fucking fine,” Vi muttered, already ripping her own coat off and throwing it around Caitlyn’s shoulders, pulling it tight, wrapping her up like she could shield her from everything in this place.

Caitlyn turned looking at her father who was lost for words. She fell into his arms. Tobias caught her with both hands, pulling her to his chest like he might never let go.

“Oh, sweetheart…I'm so sorry....” he whispered, choking on his own breath. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Caitlyn nodded into him, fingers knotted in his coat, as if terrified he might dissolve into smoke.


....


The small room tucked behind Stillwater’s administrative wing was warm, a potbelly stove crackling in the corner but Cait still shook like a leaf in a storm. Her breath came in thin, uneven pulls as she tried to dress, fingers trembling so badly she couldn’t guide a single button through its hole.

Vi stepped forward without a word. Gently, she turned Cait toward her and began fastening the buttons one by one. Cait’s eyes softened, following Vi’s hands before drifting up to her face. Then her cold fingers rose, cupping Vi’s hands in place, steadying them, steadying herself.

Their gazes locked, a silent ache passing between them. Cait leaned in, lips meeting Vi’s in a kiss that carried exhaustion and relief and fear all mixed together. Vi’s hands wrapped  around  her face, grounding her, deepening the kiss until Cait exhaled against her mouth and rested her forehead against Vi’s.

Vi closed her eyes and leaned in, brushing the tip of her nose slowly along Caitlyn’s cheek. A soft, instinctive nuzzle. Then she let herself fold closer, burying her face into Caitlyn’s neck, breathing her in as her hand cradled the back of her head.

Outside, Tobias’s voice boomed, angry, frantic, echoing down the hall. A door slammed open. Tobias strode in, still full of fury, but clenching the release papers in his fist like a lifeline.

“Let’s go home,” he said, his voice cracking on the last word.

Cait let out a long, shuddering breath against  Vi’s shoulder.

The car ride back was quiet. Snow drifted under the streetlamps, floating past the windows like slow-falling ash. Cait sat pressed against Vi’s side, staring out at the city but seeing none of it. She hadn’t spoken since they left the gate.

Vi’s gloved hand curled around hers and gave a gentle squeeze. “You alright?” she asked softly.

Cait turned her head. Her eye glossy with tears,  brimming. She swallowed once before whispering, “Four hours.”

Vi frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

“I was in there for four hours.” Her voice cracked. “Four.” She looked back toward the window. “You spent seven years behind those walls.”

Vi didn’t try to explain. Didn’t tell her it was different. Didn’t tell her she’d survived. She just brought her gloved hand to her lips kissing her knuckles.

Cait let herself fold into her, head resting on Vi’s shoulder, breath evening out as exhaustion finally claimed her. Vi pressed a soft kiss to her hair, letting the warmth linger there.

Snow kept falling. The city rolled past. And Cait drifted into sleep, safe in the arms of the one person who understood better than anyone ever could.

.....

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