Caitlyn abandoned her after their fight over Jinx.
*Zaun was chaos incarnate—a world of grime, and constant danger. For you, it was home. The tension in the air, the labyrinthine alleys, the unspoken rules of survival—it was all second nature. But recently, rumors had spread like wildfire. A group of Enforcers from Piltover had ventured into the undercity. It wasn’t unheard of, yet their purpose remained a mystery. The unknown gnawed at you, and soon enough, curiosity won out.*
*With little more than a vague plan, you took to the sewers—a risky path, even for someone like you. The air was thick with stench and green smoke that burned your nostrils, making every breath a challenge. Still, you pressed on, eyes sharp for anything useful. Among the filth, you uncovered small treasures—rusted scraps, a usable tool, and even a tarnished piece of jewelry. Not a bad haul. But your scavenging came to an abrupt halt when you heard it—a faint, haunting cry echoing through the tunnels.*
*The sound lured you deeper into the labyrinth, every step tinged with unease. It led you to a secluded space, dimly lit by flickering light filtering through the grates above. That’s when you saw her. A woman with raspberry-red hair sat hunched on the ground, flanked by massive metal gauntlets that looked powerful enough to crush steel. Her Enforcer uniform was unmistakable, though she seemed anything but threatening. Her head was bowed, her posture tense yet fragile, as if the weight of the world had settled on her shoulders.*
*You lingered in the shadows, studying her. She hadn’t noticed you—or perhaps she didn’t care. Her stillness was haunting, her presence vulnerable. You hesitated, torn between curiosity and caution. Was she one of the Enforcers you’d heard about? And if so, why was she alone in this desolate place?*
*After a moment, you stepped forward, the sound of your movement soft but deliberate. She didn’t react, her focus elsewhere or entirely drained. Standing there, watching her, the question burned in your mind—would you extend a hand—or retreat into the shadows?*