C

The night was dark, and the forest of bronze and steel shaded the streets of the silver moonlight.

Shrouded in thick smog, the dim street lamps scantily dispel the darkness that looms, with most light coming from the shelter of the shops and houses of the narrow alleys.

The farther away from Midtown Square, the more dilapidated the streets. Overgrown with weeds, littered with rocks and garbage.

Further and further, until the light of the urban lamps lose to the grasp of darkness, where everything was completely engulfed in obscurity.

In an abandoned factory, decayed and rusted steel grids piled up in disorder. The outer walls made of brittle stones have collapsed, and the facilities inside once of value have long been demolished and salvaged.

The night wind from the canyon whistled through the metal gaps, and the structures that were in disrepair creaked in agony. The sound was like a widow and her baby crying in grief.

Wells Distillery.

Driven to the bankruptcy by the Piltover bloodsuckers, poor old Wells accepted the call to a certain rebellion and participated in the resistance the uppercity with the fissure folks.

First losing the gamble with his business, then the gamble of his life. In the confrontation with uppercity, Wells was shot in the head, and his soul returned to the realm of the dead.

The Wells Distillery was eventually abandoned, becoming a comfortable haven for scavengers and homeless people.

But tonight, the distillery was exceptionally quiet.

In a corner of the winery, a figure blended with the shadows. Though a faint green light was kept company.

In the chest pocket of the figure was a sparkling purple flower, under the faint green light, the flower glimmered like Zaun in the gray smog.

The metal claw of the figure's left hand took out a pocket watch and approached the thin tube emitting green light.

"10:23..."

The light illuminated the time and features of the figure.

A respirator with floral decorations, covering the face, though hidden by a dark green cloak.

Several potions connected to a small bottle at the waist, that snaked around body, connecting to the metal neck guard and the left shoulder.

Compared with casual or formal attire, this apparel resembled more a set of armor worn by Zaunites who are equip themselves with Chemtech augments for combat.

The left arm is covered with silver-white metal, the prosthetic fingertips nimble but sharp, as if they need to both pierce and operate on the skull of an adult.

The dichotomy of the left arm with the rest of the Chemtech armor coincided with the fusion between the upper city and the lower city.

After storing the pocket watch, the figure crushed the flower and scattered it on the ground.

"The pollen will make the Kiramman sleep for a few hours. With the intelligence of that brat, it won't be long..."

A faint noise sounded from far away in the winery, and faded like it never happened.

The person was alerted immediately, and took cover behind a wall, and scanned the direction where the sound came from.

…

There was another sound, like the sound of sharp metal scraping across the stone.

!!!

Thoughts raced, and the dark figure had identified the uninvited guest. A kind of panic that swept through the whole body.

This time a clearer sound of air jets and metal friction echoed in the empty building.

With last hookshot, there began the sound of sharp metal scraping against the ground in the building, but one of a leisure approach.

The area is illuminated by a blue light.

A mature female voice with a mechanical texture came into the ear of the dark figure: "Corina Veraza."

Corina raised her hand to take off her hood and pressed a button on the mask.

White steam jetted out and connected gears rotated rapidly to unveil a handsome young face with an augmentation device embedded in the left chin, and long hair that fell down.

A Shurima girl.

Corina looked at the tall woman in front of her, her hips and legs made of sharp blades glowing blue light, and her whole body was completely covered by a cyborg armor that appears like a suit.

She lowered her head, "Madam..."

Camille Ferros, the principal intelligencer of the Ferros family, often called the Humanoid Machine, The Steel Shadow, Monster of Ferros.

But her best-known name is "The Gray Lady".

When you hear metal on ground, the Gray Lady is around. Don't try to run away, have a cup of tea on your last day, tea brewed by The Gray Lady.

Stopping in front of Corina, her left hand on her waist, Camille put the center of gravity of her body on her right leg, showing the elegance of aristocrats in her movements.

"You should understand why I came." Her voice was very indifferent.

"I have done what you asked..."

"Did you really do what I asked?" Camille interrupted her, "Do not insult my courtesy, Ms. Veraza. You know the consequences of the disloyal."

"Ma'am..."

Corina's heart sank, and recalled the scene that happened four years ago.

At that time, she was still a teenager, and she set off from the port of Bel'zhun in Shurima with her aristocratic mercantile parents, and toward Piltover to escape the increasing conflict at the border.

Unfortunately, they departed too late.

A group of Noxian soldiers hijacked the merchant ships including her parents' and brutally murdered those who tried to resist.

As a child, Corina hid in the merchandise undiscovered by the Noxians. The soldiers filled the ship with their bloodstained loot and prepared for the Ionian frontier, travelling through the Piltover Canal.

Hungry and thirsty, Corina waited for her opportunity to escape at Piltover. As the ship docked at The Sun Gates, Corina saw her chance. Failing her flight meant that she awaited a fate worse than death in the Noxian frontlines.

But the edge of intelligence was at her side, Corina has been at the Sun Gates many times, travelling with her family to visit Piltover. Knowing the lengthy procedure of the gate officials, though exhausted, she bypassed the guards, taking advantage of the night and their carelessness.

Then she began her life in Piltover and Zaun.