The Final Shot
Kara stumbled through the ruins, her injured leg dragging as she pressed forward. The crumbled remains of Kalstead surrounded her—broken walls, shattered cobblestones, and the acrid scent of smoke clinging to the air. The explosions had left devastation in their wake, and yet, amidst the destruction, she had caught a trail—faint smears of blood marking a path through the rubble.
Her chest tightened as she limped onward. The trail was fresh, leading toward the edge of the destruction, weaving through the broken remnants of what had once been a bustling town. Each step filled her with dread, her mind racing with possibilities. Was it Mireya’s blood? Or someone else’s? She had to know.
The trail ended abruptly at the imposing iron gates of the jail. Kara froze, her pulse quickening. The entrance loomed in front of her, the shadows within dark and uninviting. The thought struck her immediately: It’s a trap.
She scanned her surroundings, her sharp eyes darting across the crumbled streets. She wasn’t searching for an enemy—no, she was looking for someone to trust, a Demacian soldier, a friendly face. But there was no one. Kalstead was eerily silent, the air heavy with tension.
Kara hesitated, clutching her gun tightly. Her bow was slung across her back, but she couldn’t risk using it in such tight quarters. The weight of her decision pressed down on her. You shouldn’t have come alone, a voice in her head whispered. But it was too late to turn back now. She couldn’t let Mireya escape.
The iron gates of the jail stood ajar, swinging slightly with the faint breeze from the shattered ruins of Kalstead. Kara’s breath hitched. The open gates were a warning in themselves—someone had already been here. Someone had gone ahead.
She swallowed her fear and stepped inside. The jail was oppressive, more foreboding than she had anticipated.
The light overhead flickered, casting jagged shadows on the walls that seemed to shift and writhe with the movement of the bulb. The damp, cold air clung to her skin, carrying the faint metallic tang of blood. Her boots scraped against the stone floor, the sound echoing unnervingly in the stillness.
The trail she’d followed through the rubble continued inside, smeared across the floor in a dark, unbroken streak. Unlike the scattered drops outside, this trail was deliberate, as though someone—or something—had been dragged.
Her grip on the gun tightened as she moved down the corridor. Rows of empty cells lined the path, their iron bars blackened with rust. Each step felt heavier than the last, a lead weight settling in her chest. The silence was deafening, broken only by the faint hum of the flickering light above her.
Her mind raced as she advanced. She couldn’t let Mireya get away—not after everything. Not after the destruction, the chaos, the lives that had been lost. She has to answer for this.
The blood trail led her to the final cell at the end of the corridor. Kara’s heart thundered in her chest as she approached, her breathing shallow. She paused just outside, her knuckles white as she gripped her weapon.
Peering inside, her breath caught.
Mireya lay unconscious on the cold stone floor, her body battered and pale. Kara’s gut twisted at the sight, but she didn’t have time to process it because she wasn’t alone.
A figure stood in the shadows of the cell.
Kara’s blood ran cold as the figure stepped forward, the dim light catching his face.
“Eren?” she whispered, her voice trembling.
The sight of him here, in this desolate place, was almost too much to process. Eren (Kara’s party member from Rengar’s hunter group)—lean, quick, with sharp features that seemed sharper in the flickering light—looked exactly as she remembered. His crossbow was slung across his back, daggers at his hips, just like the hunter she had trusted in the wilds.
But there was something off. His usual confident smirk was gone, replaced by an unfamiliar calmness that set her on edge.
“Easy, Kara,” Eren said, raising his hands slightly, palms open. His voice was steady, his tone light, almost teasing, as if this were just another one of his games.
Kara didn’t lower her gun. “What are you doing here?” she demanded, her voice sharp despite the fear laced through it. Her eyes flicked to Mireya, still unconscious on the floor.
Eren followed her gaze. “Her?” He let out a low whistle. “Caught her trying to slip out in all the chaos. “
Staying calm, Kara straightened and met his gaze. “You’re telling me Mireya entered the jail through the city’s main entrance?” she asked evenly, her voice steady but sharp.
Eren nodded, his expression calm, though his eyes gleamed with something unreadable. “Yeah, I followed her in. She thought she could sneak in unnoticed. Figured she might try to pull something.”
Kara’s frown deepened. “And then what?”
“When she got inside, I saw her heading toward that passage over there,” he said, gesturing toward the shadowy corner of the cell. “Guess she was planning to use it to sneak out once she was done here. That’s when I acted—took her down before she could make a run for it.”
Kara turned her head to glance at the passage he’d pointed out. The faint glow of fluorescent mushroom-like vegetation illuminated the edges of the tunnel, their bioluminescent light triggered by vibrations. Her eyes flicked back to Eren, and her gaze dropped to his boots.
A spark of suspicion ignited in her mind as she noticed the faint glow of the mushrooms’ particles clinging to his soles—something impossible to get unless someone had been inside the tunnel.
She straightened, keeping her voice calm. “So you’re saying Mireya came in through the main entrance, and you followed her here. You caught her trying to escape through the passage, hit her, and dragged her back?”
“That’s right,” Eren replied smoothly, his posture relaxed. “I wasn’t going to let her slip away, not after everything that’s happened.”
Kara tilted her head, her tone growing colder. “And how did you even get to Kalstead in the first place? Last I checked, you weren’t anywhere near here.”
Eren shrugged casually. “Merchant ship. Got here a few days ago. After what went down, I figured there was trouble brewing and decided to see if I could help.”
Kara nodded slowly, her expression unreadable. “Help,” she repeated, her gaze flicking to his boots again.
“And you’re sure Mireya was the only one in the tunnel?” she pressed. “You didn’t go down there yourself?”
“Why would I?” Eren replied with a cocky grin. “She never made it inside. Knocked her out right here before she could even step foot in the passage.”
Her jaw tightened as she took a slow step closer, her eyes locked onto his. “Then why do you have those glowing particles on your boots? The mushrooms only grow inside the tunnel. There’s no way you’d have them on you unless you’d been down there.”
For the first time, Eren’s smirk faltered. His relaxed demeanor shifted, his posture straightening as his expression hardened.
“You always were sharp, Kara,” he said quietly, his voice dropping into something darker, more threatening. “But maybe you should’ve stayed out of this.”
Kara’s fingers tightened on the grip of her gun, the tension thick in the air. Without a word, Eren reached for his own weapon, drawing it swiftly and aiming it directly at her. The sound of metal scraping against leather echoed through the quiet, darkened cell.
The standoff was at its breaking point. Kara and Eren faced each other, each unwilling to back down. Their guns were raised, eyes locked in a battle of wills, neither showing signs of relenting.
Then, the sudden sound of a footstep—a rustle of movement from behind the shadows of the secret tunnel.
Kara’s instincts flared. She barely had time to react before an arrow shot out from the entrance of the tunnel, the bolt whistling through the air and striking her thigh with a sickening thunk.
Her vision blurred from the pain. She gasped, stumbling as the world tilted beneath her, losing her balance. She collapsed to the floor, clutching her leg. The wound was deep, blood staining her clothes, and her head spun with dizziness.
Before the pain could consume her, Kara’s reflexes kicked in. With a sharp gasp, she fired her gun in one fluid motion. The shot rang out—loud and sharp—hitting its target squarely in the head.
The mercenary, an elusive figure who had escaped through the tunnel earlier, crumpled to the ground, his crossbow slipping from his hands. The echo of the shot still hung in the air when Kara felt another jolt of pain.
Eren didn’t hesitate. He took advantage of her moment of vulnerability, and the bullet hit her chest with a brutal impact. Kara's world exploded into white-hot agony, her breath caught in her throat.
She could barely focus, the pain consuming her. But there was still one chance, one opening.
Kara’s finger tightened on the trigger again.
Her shot fired, but her vision swam. She could barely see, the blood loss clouding her thoughts. The bullet flew, cutting through the air like a streak of lightning, but it missed its intended target.
The bullet grazed Eren’s face. The impact tore a long, deep gash across his cheek, sending a spray of blood across the floor. He recoiled, his body jerking back from the force of the hit, a sharp gasp of pain escaping him.
Eren’s eyes were wild, his hand going to the cut on his face, a mix of fury and disbelief etched in his expression. "Goodbye, Kara," he muttered, his voice low, as if finally accepting the inevitable.
But to his surprise, Kara laughed—coughing violently, blood splattering onto the floor as she did. The sound was ragged, almost unhinged. She wiped the blood from her lips, smirking through the pain, her body shaking with every breath.
“You really think you’ve won?” she gasped, her voice strained, but sharp. “Did you forget something, Eren?”
Eren froze, confusion flickering in his eyes. But before he could react, she answered.
“My bullets… they’re not like yours, are they?” Kara’s grin grew wider, even as she coughed up more blood. She chuckled softly, the sound filled with bitter irony. “You think I would just leave it to chance?”
Eren’s eyes narrowed as realization slowly dawned on him. His hand faltered, hovering over the wound on his face as a sickening thought hit him.
Her bullets...
He looked at her in horror, the terror creeping across his features as the poison began to work its way into his system.
Kara’s bullets were laced with Gravethorn Venom, the deadliest substance in Runeterra. A poison so potent, it paralyzed the body from the inside out, slowly shutting down the nervous system, leaving no trace behind.
His body trembled, the effects starting to take hold. His vision blurred, and his movements became sluggish.
“I didn’t… I didn’t think…” Eren whispered, the poison creeping through his veins, but it was too late. The venom was already taking over, his hands shaking uncontrollably.
Kara could see it—the slow, inevitable progression of the poison’s power. Eren’s eyes were growing distant, unfocused.
“Don’t worry,” she whispered, her voice cold but oddly sympathetic. “You’ll be gone soon enough. We all will.”
But then, she collapsed backward, her body too weak to hold itself up any longer. Blood continued to pour from her wounds, and her breath came in shallow, agonizing gasps.
Eren, too, was slipping away, his body convulsing as the venom spread.
It was over.
But the silence that followed the violence was deafening, leaving only the sound of their labored breathing in the dark, forsaken space.
The scene was a grim tableau of death and despair. Eren lay lifeless on the cold floor, his body stiff from the venom that had coursed through his veins. Near him, Kara’s pale, bloodied form rested, her lifeblood having drained from the deep wounds in her thigh and chest. In the hidden tunnel, the mercenary who had fired the fatal shot at Kara was sprawled lifeless, his crossbow lying close by, a silent witness to the chaos.
Eren and Kara’s weapons remained tightly gripped in their hands, a final testament to their desperate fight. And just a few feet away, Mireya lay unconscious on the ground, oblivious to the carnage around her and the truth of what had transpired. The room was steeped in an eerie silence, broken only by the distant echoes of the battle that raged elsewhere.