The place was a swamp.

“Ladies aaaand gentlemen, please welcome the finest of Zaun, the embodiment of terror, the unbeatable and merciless Violence!” The crowd roared around Caitlyn, a cacophony of whistles and jeers mixing with the pungent smell of sweat and grime. She waded through the press of bodies, ducking to avoid stray fists and jabs from the frenzied spectators.

Her boot landed in something sticky on the filthy floor. The entire venue was dark and dingy, save for the brightly lit arena at the center. Caitlyn was here undercover, following a lead about a smuggling ring. The enforcers' informant had pointed to this underground fighting pit as the spot where smugglers often exchanged intel.

Caitlyn kept her hood pulled low, scanning the crowd from beneath its shadow. The fight about to begin was of little interest to her; she had a job to do. Her eyes swept over the sea of rough, suspicious faces. This place was a nest of illicit activity, and she felt a growing unease as more than a few pairs of eyes lingered on her. She had traded her uniform for a plain hoodie and trousers, but her clothes were too clean, too new. She didn’t blend in like she had hoped.

The shouts around her swelled, and Caitlyn’s heart leapt as the fighters entered the pit. The first was a tall, bald man, his skin a canvas of piercings and tattoos. He carried a massive axe in one hand and a net in the other. Caitlyn’s stomach twisted in shock. This was supposed to be a simple illegal fighting ring, not a slaughterhouse. If things went south, she realized grimly, there was no way she could restore order on her own. The crowd would turn on her in a heartbeat.

But most of the crowd's attention was drawn to the other fighter. Caitlyn followed their gaze and felt her breath hitch. The woman was breathtaking: not as tall as her opponent, but muscled, with vivid pink hair and tattoos winding up her neck. She spat on the floor and hefted a brutal-looking weapon—a large battle axe—before stretching her neck, her eyes scanning the audience. For a moment, her gaze locked with Caitlyn’s.

Caitlyn’s heart pounded. There was no way this woman could know she was an enforcer, but the cold, hateful glint in her eyes made Caitlyn shiver. She was certain the pink-haired fighter harbored a deep grudge against enforcers. Everyone here did.

A whistle blew.

The fight was ferocious. Blood spattered the floor, and Caitlyn realized, with revulsion, what she had stepped in earlier. The man swung punch after punch, landing a brutal hit to the woman's face, missing almost every time. Yet she barely reacted, holding back as though waiting for the right moment. Then she moved.

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It was a blur of muscle and violence. The sheer brutality of it was sickening, but she couldn’t stop looking at the woman. Her movements were raw yet graceful, despite her muscled frame, a mix of power and precision. Blood sprayed the crowd closest to the fight, and Caitlyn found herself transfixed, pulse racing with every strike the woman gave away. She completely forgot to monitor the audience, captivated by the spectacle.

The fight ended in minutes, though it felt like an eternity. The bald man wailed on the floor, his weapons scattered, a deep wound on his arm, and an axe pressed under his chin held by the woman. The people cheered as the announcer from before raised the woman’s arm in victory. It was the first time the woman looked up. Her eyes fell directly on Caitlyn, as if she knew the entire time where Caitlyn stood. 

Caitlyn felt paralyzed, a cocktail of fear and something she didn't want to name twisting in her gut. When a bystander jostled her, she snapped out of it and stumbled backward, making a quick exit.

Cold air flooded her lungs as she pressed herself against a brick wall in a nearby alley, out of sight. Her heart was still racing, and she struggled to calm herself. The mission had been a disaster. She had gathered no intelligence, distracted like a rookie by a street fight. Markus was right: she wasn’t ready.

She rubbed her face with a hand, embarrassed by her own failure. All that remained was the daunting task of navigating her way back to Piltover through Zaun’s treacherous streets, trying not to draw attention. The memory of the woman—sweat-slicked and fierce, muscles rippling—flashed unbidden in her mind.

Shaking it off, Caitlyn straightened and prepared to leave the alley. She froze.

A figure leaned casually against the wall at the alley’s end, watching her. It was the pink-haired woman, Vi. Caitlyn recognized her now, her low, raspy voice still bearing the reminiscence from the fight.

“What’s a Piltie like you doing here?” The woman drawled. Her trousers were still stained with blood.

Caitlyn’s mouth went dry. “I-I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”

Vi’s lips twisted into a smirk. In one swift motion, she shoved Caitlyn against the wall, one arm pressing against her throat. With her free hand, she pulled down Caitlyn’s hood, her breath hot on Caitlyn’s ear.

“Come on,” Vi said, voice dripping with menace. “Don’t give me that, Piltie. You think I can’t tell an enforcer when I see one?” Caitlyn’s back uncomfortably scraped against the bricks, and a cold sweat broke out as Vi’s glare bore into her. Her pistol in the woman's hand, she was at her mercy. Then something in Vi’s eyes shifted. She grabbed Caitlyn’s chin, forcing her to meet her gaze in the pale moonlight.

Caitlyn’s mind raced. She would die here, at the hands of this woman and no one will remember her as anything more than a foolish, arrogant councilor’s daughter who thought that she could take on Zaun’s criminals. 

“Not a place for the likes of you, cupcake.” The woman loosened her grip slightly as she felt Caitlyn tremble. Her lips look so soft, Caitlyn thought.

“I’m not here for you,” Caitlyn managed to say.

“Oh,” the woman replied, seemingly amused by Caitlyn’s words. “And pray tell, who are you here for, huh? Darryl, the shimmer boy? Sevika? Or maybe you’re here for Silco, the smuggler king?” Seeing the recognition flash across Caitlyn’s face, she burst out laughing.

“Good luck with that.” To Caitlyn’s surprise, the woman let her go. Caitlyn choked on a breath, her hands bracing against her knees.

“Go back to your shiny home and don’t come back here. As I said, it’s not a place for you. It will eat you alive.”

When Caitlyn raised her head, the woman was already gone.