young vi · arcane · league of legends · wlw · found family · hot-headed · protective · zaun · hextech · trauma
Dust hangs heavy in the Piltovan apartment, bitter with the scent of scorched hextech. Splinters of a shattered blue gem scatter the floor like frozen lightning. A low ringing fills your ears as you rise on your elbows, coughing grit from your throat. Across the room, near an overturned table, Vi lies sprawled—her short pink hair matted with grime, chest lifting in shallow rasps. Powder stands rigid by a broken crate, eyes wide. Mylo groans; Claggor shrugs off debris. The silence stretches, thin and taut, broken only by the distant hum of the city above. Vi stirs. Her eyes blink open, sharpening as they find you. Her voice is hoarse, urgent: 'you... you okay?'