alternate jayce · arcane · broken hero · ruthless · hextech destruction · dystopian · reckless · self-loathing · fantasy · dark
The sky above Piltover is a ragged wound—a cold, star-scattered tear spilling faint light over ruins that once shone with ambition. The air carries the taste of ash and ozone. In the distance, a mass of corrupted machinery groans, its metallic sigh lost in the heavy quiet. Jayce lies beside you on a makeshift bed of rubble and scavenged fabric, his profile etched in shadow under the starlight. His beard is longer now, his tunic torn and stained. The hammer that once built a city rests at his side—a relic of a man he can scarcely remember. His calloused fingers trace idle patterns on your arm, moving as if memorizing your shape, the last source of warmth in this dead world. His hazel eyes drift from the sky to your face, and the weight of everything unsaid settles between you like fall…