Zaun - Raul Menendez's Hideout - [Continued]

Just outside the hideout, a worn-out car outfitted with crude Hextech enhancements idled in the dim glow of Zaun's smog-filtered lights. The trunk stood open as Raul Menendez emerged from the doorway, a bag slung over his shoulder. He moved with practiced precision, carefully placing the bag in the trunk before shutting it with a firm click.

Before he could take another step, a voice pierced the quiet, cutting through the shadows. "Woods isn't going to be happy seeing you run away again."

Menendez didn't flinch. Slowly, he turned toward the sound, his expression calm, calculating. From the thick shadows, a figure stepped forward—Vi. Her hands were tucked into the pockets of her black jacket, her posture relaxed but her gaze sharp, locked on Menendez.

"Well, if it isn't Vi, the infamous enforcer," Menendez said, his voice low and steady. "I thought you've already left."

Vi smirked faintly, but her eyes never wavered. "I've got one last loose end to tie up," she said, her tone deadly serious. "And that's you."

Menendez smirked, tilting his head slightly as Vi spoke, her tone sharp and accusing. "You're the man behind all this. Hiding in the shadows, pulling the strings. And more than that—getting Ambessa what she wants, using her influence to target Caitlyn. All for Ambessa and Atriox's own twisted ambitions."

Menendez chuckled, a low, knowing laugh that sent a chill through the air. "Impresionante," he said, the Spanish word for "impressive" rolling off his tongue with ease. "You figured it out." He took a step closer, his confidence unshaken, his smirk growing darker. "But knowing my secrets? It won't change anything."

He paused, his tone hardening. "I won't stop—not for you, not for anyone. What I've planned for Piltover is already in motion. And there's nothing you can do to stop it."

Vi's eyes narrowed, her voice cutting through the tension. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Menendez's smirk widened as his voice dropped, cold and deliberate. "Suffering."

Menendez's smirk faded, replaced by a grim expression. "You see," he began, his voice low and measured, "years ago, my sister Josephina only wanted a better life. We tried to move on from Zaun, to cross the bridge to Piltover." He paused, his gaze hardening. "But the way was blocked by Piltover's so-called finest—the Enforcers."

His voice grew heavier as he continued. "Caught in the crossfire, she didn't stand a chance. But it wasn't just the Enforcers who were responsible." His tone darkened, his words dripping with bitterness. "Woods... he killed her. My sister. Took from me the one thing I cared about."

Vi's eyes flickered with recognition, her voice softer now. "I know what it's like to lose someone, to lose your sister." She hesitated, her voice heavy with conflicted emotions. "Woods told me what happened. He said it was an accident."

Menendez's eyes blazed with fury as he pointed a finger at her, his voice thundering. "You do not speak for Woods!"

Menendez's expression twisted with rage, his voice trembling as he spat his next words. "It was no accident," he hissed. "Woods wanted revenge. He wanted me dead for what happened in Angola, for what I did to him there. But instead of coming after me, he took out his anger on my sister!"

Vi shook her head, her tone steady but firm. "That's not true. Woods told me everything. The bullet—it was meant for you, Menendez. Your sister..." she hesitated, her voice softening slightly, "she got in the way."

Menendez's eyes narrowed, his anger undeterred. "Don't you dare try to justify it! It doesn't matter if the bullet was meant for me or not. It killed her. And he pulled the trigger."

Menendez's voice dropped, his words cold and deliberate. "What he did, it won't just be Woods or his best friend Alex Mason who pay the price. No—everyone who serves Piltover, and the cities neighboring it, will know suffering. They'll understand, as I have lived it."

Vi, stood there furrowing her brows. "So you just used Ambessa and Atriox like some pawn to spark your war with us? To do your dirty work?"

Menendez smirked darkly, tilting his head slightly. "Both of them served their purpose," he said coolly. "Although they failed, it doesn't matter. I won't stop. Not until Piltover burns to the ground."

Vi's expression hardened, her voice breaking through the weight of his threat. "No. No more, Menendez. Isn't the war enough already? How much more people need to die because of this?" Her words carried both desperation and defiance, a plea to stop the cycle of violence.

Menendez's gaze locked on hers, unyielding. "As much as it takes," he said with venom. "Until they feel what I felt. Until they lose everything like I did. Only then will they truly understand."

Menendez turned sharply on his heel, heading toward his vehicle. But Vi wasn't about to let him escape. Determined to stop him, she sprinted forward, shouting as she leaped. Menendez turned just in time to see her knee driving straight into his chest. The impact sent him staggering back, nearly losing his balance.

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Vi didn't waste a second. As Menendez clutched his chest, she charged again. He swung at her, but she was ready, leaning back just enough to dodge his punch. She countered with a quick strike, her fist connecting squarely with his face. Following through, she delivered a powerful uppercut that sent Menendez reeling once more.

Despite the force of the blows, Menendez simply chuckled, wiping blood from his lip before spitting onto the ground. "Very good," he muttered, his voice tinged with mockery. "You've got strength. But it's not enough."

Vi's eyes widened in shock as her punches seemed to have no effect on Menendez. Determined, she charged again, throwing a powerful lead hook. But Menendez sidestepped effortlessly, countering with a brutal swing to her face. The blow made her wince, but she didn't back down, immediately going for another punch.

This time, Menendez caught her arm mid-swing. With a roar of rage, he yanked her forward, driving a devastating haymaker into her. The impact sent Vi staggering backward, barely keeping her footing. Menendez advanced coldly, his footsteps deliberate, his presence menacing.

Vi, gritting her teeth, retaliated with another desperate swing, but Menendez was faster. He grabbed her arm and, with sheer force, hurled her into the side of the car. The vehicle's frame buckled under the impact as Vi crashed into it and slumped to the ground, groaning in pain.

Menendez approached her slowly, crouching down just inches from her face. A twisted smirk spread across his lips as he taunted her, his voice dripping with icy condescension.

Menendez leaned in closer, his cold eyes locked onto Vi's defiant gaze. "You may have been a fighter in the undercity," he sneered, his voice calm but laced with venom. "Scrappy. Tough. But me? I was disciplined. Trained."

He stood up, towering over her, his voice growing darker with each word. "And do you know what fuels me? What drives me beyond anything you can imagine?" He paused, his smirk twisting into a grimace of fury. "Rage. Pure, unrelenting rage."

His words hung heavy in the air, a chilling promise of the power behind his actions.

Vi groaned as she gripped the edge of the car, using it to steady herself as she slowly pushed to her feet. Blood smeared the corner of her mouth, but a defiant smirk curled her lips as she locked eyes with Menendez. "Discipline? Training? Rage?" she muttered, her voice dripping with sarcasm despite the pain. "Sounds like a hell of a workout plan. Too bad it doesn't make you less of an asshole."

Menendez's smirk deepened as he tilted his head, almost amused by her defiance.

Vi raised her hands, her fingers curling in a taunting gesture toward Menendez. His smirk vanished, replaced by a cold, determined glare. He stepped toward her, swinging his arm in a wide arc. Vi ducked swiftly, twisting her body to the right as his fist smashed through the car window with a resounding crash. Menendez didn't flinch. He pulled his arm free from the shattered glass, unfazed, and immediately went for a calculated left punch.

Vi ducked under the swing, delivering a sharp punch to his side before following through with a solid blow to his face. She went for another strike, aiming her right fist at his head, but Menendez deflected it with a quick, forceful sweep of his arm. Before she could recover, he roared, driving his fist into her stomach. The impact sent a wave of pain coursing through her, and she doubled over, groaning loudly.

As she staggered backward, Menendez grabbed her by the arm and threw her to the ground with a brutal shove. Vi gritted her teeth and pushed herself back to her feet, one hand clutching her stomach as she stumbled into the wall behind her. Desperate, she launched another punch at him, but Menendez caught her wrist mid-swing. With a cruel twist of her arm, Vi let out a pained cry.

Before she could react, his other hand shot to her throat. He pinned her hard against the wall, his grip unyielding, his cold eyes boring into hers.

Vi's hands clawed at Menendez's arms, desperately trying to loosen his iron grip, but his gaze never wavered. His eyes burned with unrelenting rage, his breathing heavy and ragged. Then, suddenly, he released her.

Vi crumpled to the ground, her back leaning against the wall as she coughed violently, struggling to catch her breath. Menendez turned away, his chest heaving as he tried to steady himself. Without a word, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a Colt 1911 pistol.

With chilling calm, he aimed the weapon at her, his hand steady despite the storm of emotions behind his eyes. Vi, still gasping for air, looked up at him, her face defiant. "What are you waiting for?" she rasped, her voice hoarse but unyielding. "Go ahead. Do it."

Her words hung in the air, daring him to pull the trigger, as the tension between them reached a breaking point.

Menendez slowly lowered his pistol, his gaze still fixed on Vi. Without a word, he began to walk toward her, his movements deliberate and unrelenting. He crouched in front of her, towering even in her weakened state. Vi's breaths were labored, blood smeared across her mouth, bruises darkening her skin. One arm clutched her stomach in pain, but her eyes remained locked on him, defiant.

"Killing you would be too easy," Menendez said coldly, his voice a chilling whisper. He paused, his expression unreadable for a moment, before continuing. "You want to know what it's like to suffer? You will. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But when the time comes, you'll feel it. Every. Last. Moment."

Vi, still leaning against the wall, let out a strained chuckle, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. Her voice was hoarse but unwavering. "I already know what suffering is like," she said, her voice hoarse but firm, her gaze unwavering. "You can't break me. You don't know a damn thing about what I've been through."

Menendez's expression darkened, his voice low and venomous. "You think you know suffering? You haven't even scratched the surface, girl. But you will. And when I'm done, you'll wish you had died here tonight."

He straightened, standing tall as he turned toward his vehicle. Just before stepping inside, he stopped, glancing back over his shoulder. "Consider this mercy," he said, his voice dripping with finality.

As he climbed into the car, the engine roared to life. The vehicle began to pull away, but Vi wasn't finished. With sheer determination, she forced herself to her feet, groaning as the pain surged through her body. Leaning heavily against the wall for support, she watched him leave, her hand still pressed tightly to her stomach.

Each step forward was a struggle, but she kept moving, her eyes following the retreating vehicle until it disappeared into the distance.

Vi stood still, leaning heavily against the wall as her breath came in ragged gasps. Blood stained her lips, and every inch of her body ached from the brutal encounter. Slowly, she closed her eyes, letting the weight of the moment settle over her.

Menendez had escaped, and she knew it. Despite giving everything she had, she had been outmatched—overpowered by his sheer experience and the unrelenting fury that drove him. But even in defeat, there was a flicker of resolve. She had stood her ground against him, and while she hadn't won, she had done her best.

And for now, that was enough.