There is an untouched glass next to his empty one. He refills his own for the third time tonight. This would be the last year, he tells himself again. And this time he meant it, he tells himself again.

No. Vengeful.

Too many things which need to die skitter about in the darkness.

This year a meal for two will be cooked for a table set for one. Just like the year before it, and the year before that.

This night there is a new shadow in Demacia. It moves through the darkness, searching, hunting, for a very specific someone. He has a message to deliver. Shauna Vayne

It was an inn which did not want its guests to stay. So clean that even the slightest smidge of dirt from a traveler's boot would stand out like a sin in church. The tracks of his boots had long since been cleaned. He was waiting.

Next year.

"We should talk." The form of Lucian blends into the shadows the light of the moon can't quite dispel in thie shadowed night. There is a satchel over his shoulder slung over his shoulder Has he waited for her to finish her call? Did he just arrive? Vi

A battlefield would soon greet him. In them, skill only took one so far, experience only took one so far. A moment of bad luck was all it took. His finger caresses the trigger of Senna's gun. And his luck had never been good.

The finger caressing the trigger comes to a slow, inevitable stop. It's left on the table, his sentinel's duster folded over it, as he leaves the room.

There is one room that is quieter than the rest. He knocks on it. Shauna Vayne

"Protect my nine." The streets are chaos. The crews sworn and re-sworn to Gangplank are brawling with gangs the new regime threw down. His gun is in his right hand. His left arm is protecting the payload beneath his coat. Vi

He comes to a halt mid-run. That turn should have taken him to the stairs. Instead there is only another hallway before him. Stretching darkness. He knows to expect the clink of chains before his tormentor makes its presence known. "Depraved creature."