Chapter Text
Piltover believed in institutional power.
It believed in polished marble floors, inherited reputations, and systems refined carefully enough to resemble fairness. From the outside, Kiramman & Talis LLP stood as proof of that belief —twenty stories of glass overlooking the river separating Piltover’s wealth from Zaun’s endurance.
However, in Zaun, nobody trusted the law. They trusted people who knew how to survive it. Zaun Legal had never pretended to be anything else. The building sat wedged between factories and elevated rail lines, concrete darkened by years of chemical rain and city neglect. Clients didn’t come here expecting fairness. They came because someone had told them this firm won cases.
Piltover preferred burying labor disputes, corporate negligence suits, and criminal defenses that no respectable attorney wanted attached to their name.
For nearly two decades, Silco ran it like an empire disguised as a practice. He understood leverage better than legislation. Under him, associates learned quickly: mercy lost cases; hesitation ruined lives.
And now he is gone.
Retired, officially.
Unreachable, unofficially.
The announcement had circulated three weeks earlier, short and controlled.
No farewell speech.
No celebration.
Just a firm-wide email followed by a single line that unsettled everyone more than his departure itself.
Sevika would be taking over.
The mood in the office changed overnight.
Sevika was known as Silco’s best attorney, a legal weapon. She could read people instantly and win arguments before they even began.
Her presence controlled the room with a silent authority that lingered in every corner. When people saw her in meetings, courtrooms, or conferences, her reputation already made her an introduction.
Those eyes could reveal any truth they wanted to uncover. The thought of Silco’s most intimidating attorney taking over his company made everyone feel as if they were already under her supervision.
Conversations lowered. Deadlines were met early. Even senior attorneys stopped arguing openly in conference rooms.
Fear didn’t announce itself loudly in Zaun. It adjusted behavior.
And you noticed it on your first morning.
The elevator groaned upward, stopping twice before reaching the litigation floor. When the doors opened, the office felt alive in a different way than the firms you’d interviewed with in Piltover.
Less polished.
More alert.
Phones rang constantly. Case files stacked high on desks bore evidence of fights still unfinished. Attorneys moved quickly, sleeves rolled, conversations sharp and practical.
Nobody here pretended justice was clean.
You liked that immediately.
Despite the environment, you were the personification of everything Zaun Legal lacked.
Everything about you was entirely organized down to the placement of hairs on your head.
There was never a wrinkle in your professional attire nor your attitude.
Your outfits always hugged each of your curves in a flattering, yet elegant way.
Not to mention, you wore your heels like they were made for you. They only highlighted those curves. The confidence in your stride only made people see how you carried yourself.
Your hair was perfectly done, not a single strand misplaced. Your makeup was beautifully done as it complemented the colors of your nails. Your accessories were gorgeous, yet subtle. The gold jewelry you wore made your skin shine in the dimly lit parts of Zaun. And to top it all off, you had a smile that could melt the coldest of people.
Aside from your physical appearance, your self-assurance actually stems from your accolades.
Top of your law school class. Moot court champion. Known for dismantling opposing arguments without raising your voice. The credentials had followed you long before you stepped out of Zaun.
Some people questioned why you’d chosen this firm over Piltover's offers.
You never explained.
You knew what kind of environment you were getting into.
You knew about the rival cases from Zaun Legal and Kiramman & Tails LLP.
What you didn’t know was who you would be dealing with in this environment.
_______
As you scanned the perimeter and silently observed the office, you overheard some faint conversations from people passing by.
“…heard she’s already fired two lawyers…”
“I mean, Silco trusted her for a reason.”
“…better to not get on her bad side.”
“Did you see the deadline she just posted?!”
You walked up to the receptionist’s desk with a smile. You introduced yourself at the reception, offered your name, and watched recognition flicker across the assistant’s face.
“Oh,” she said in a relieved tone. “You’re the new hire. Thank God, we needed reinforcements.”
The receptionist leaned in slightly towards you from behind her desk. She lowered her voice. “You definitely picked an interesting week to start.”
As you began to speak again, there was a faint ringing of an elevator at the opposite end of the room.
The receptionist stopped listening as her eyes darted to the elevator numbers.
There’s a subtle, yet noticeable hush in the atmosphere. People began to briefly pause their phone conversations, walk back into the bathroom after leaving, or tuck their heads down.
You attempt to ignore it until you’re suddenly interrupted by a faint scent of cigarillos creeping its way into your nose. The smell only grew stronger as you heard the hurried sound of heavy boots growing louder as it struck your ears.
You felt someone walk up behind you, then watched their arm extend above your head as they handed a binder to the receptionist.
“Here.”
There’s a low, rough-edged voice emerging from behind you as you look at the receptionist’s adjusted attitude. She seemed like she had seen a ghost when she grabbed the binder.
Curious about her reaction, you turn around and look up to see the woman who stood taller than everyone.
Sevika.
Dressed in dark, tailored layers that looked expensive without trying to be. A fitted charcoal vest hugged her broad shoulders over a deep green shirt, sleeves rolled just enough to expose the metal plating of her mechanical arm.
No jewelry. No accessories.
Just control.
Sevika’s gaze settles on you fully now, once she notices you.
Not welcoming.
Assessing.
A slow look from head to toe—not inappropriate, not curious in the ordinary sense.
Strategic. Like reading a contract for hidden clauses.
You don’t look away.
Something flickers behind her eyes.
Interesting, the two of you share the same thought.
It’s almost as if she’s shocked you made direct eye contact with her.
She waited for you to cower. For you to lower your eyes.
However, you met her gaze evenly and calmly. You even offered her a small smile.
She didn’t say anything at first as she silently studied your physical appearance.
The receptionist coughed awkwardly, interrupting the silence, and began to speak. “Ms. Sevika, this is the—“
“…New associate,” Sevika spoke slowly, interrupting.
You nodded once. “Yes.”
The faint mechanical hum of her arm punctuated the silence between you. “I’m Sevika,” she started again.
Not Ms. Sevika.
Not Managing Partner.
Just a fact.
You told her your name, to which she quietly repeated under her breath.
The receptionist awkwardly added, “S-She took over after Mr. Silco…retired.” You noticed the way she said retired carefully.
You extended your hand. Sevika glanced at it briefly before taking it. Her grip was firm, grounding, testing pressure without crushing. Her hand doubled the size of yours. You feel the contrast from your smooth hands to her scarred, rough hands.
Her gaze remained on you, but softened a bit.
Another assessment.
Another pause.
“…Walk with me.”
Not an invitation.
She turned away and began walking towards the elevator, looking over her shoulder at you to ensure you’re following.
The receptionist quickly handed you your badge. “You weren’t nervous at all,” she whispered, almost amazed.
You laughed softly, clipping the badge onto your top. “I didn’t think I needed to be.”
You shoot a quick smile and wave at the receptionist before following Sevika to the elevator, to which she returns as the doors close.
There the two of you stood in silence as you patiently waited for the elevator to open once more.
As you silently scanned the perimeter of the elevator, Sevika observed from her peripheral vision.
The longer you look around, she slowly begins to turn her head towards you. She watched as your eyes darted across each corner of the elevator like it was an escape room.
Intrigued, she keeps watching, and her gaze slowly focuses upon you.
The way your lips separate ever so slightly when you’re observing something.
The way your hair was strategically done to complement your makeup and nail color.
The lack of wrinkles or disheveling in your attire.
How your jewelry brightened up your outfit.
Looking down at your heels, remembering the sound of them following her into the elevator.
Down to your color-coded bags you had specifically for work.
There was a small hum that invaded the silence.
You knew she was assessing you.
You turn to glance at Sevika, who already has her eyes fixed on your body.
Noticing your sudden change in direction, she quickly looks up at you through her short hair, her head still directed towards your body.
Your breath hitches slightly as you lock eyes with her once more.
It was like being caught by a lioness in the wild, but who is the prey?
Your confidence is telling you to keep your eyes on her, but there’s something else inside of you telling you to look away.
Ding
Your eyes quickly dart to the elevator numbers.
You made it to the correct floor.
Finally, you thought to yourself.
If you looked at her any longer, you’d see her fighting the urge to smirk.
But she didn’t give in.
Not yet.
Your breathing quietly gets heavier.
What is this?
You’ve always been admired by those around you, and it’s not something you’re foreign to.
But there’s something about her gaze that makes you feel something you can’t immediately identify.
You knew about the new management at Zaun Legal.
You heard about the cases Sevika dominated in.
You heard about how the best attorneys in Piltover would react when Sevika was on a case.
So what part of the job is doing this to you?
________
While you follow Sevika out of the elevator, you witness that same shift in the atmosphere from before.
They always noticed when Sevika walked the floor.
But today, their attention lingered on you.
Whispers trailed behind:
That’s her.
Top of her class.
Silco recruited her personally.
She’s so young.
Sevika ignored all of it.
“You graduated early,” she said suddenly, eyes forward.
“Yes.”
“Law review.”
“Yes.”
“Trial advocacy awards.”
You allowed yourself a small smile. “Someone did their homework.”
A faint sound left her—not quite a laugh. “I don’t hire mysteries.”
You didn’t answer.
That, apparently, was answer enough.
She stopped at a corner office. Your name already rested on the frosted glass. You noticed the detail immediately.
Prepared.
Expected.
Chosen.
Sevika opened the door herself and stepped aside, gesturing inward. “Your office.”
You entered, taking it in—space, light, visibility over the firm floor.
Not an entry-level placement.
Strategic placement.
She remained in the doorway, watching your reaction.
Waiting.
Testing.
You set your bag down calmly, already scanning where files would go, where arguments would live.
No awe.
No nervousness.
Just readiness.
Behind you, Sevika crossed her arms, mechanical fingers tapping lightly against metal plating as she observed. Most new hires tried to impress her here.
You simply…began organizing.
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
Interesting.
She pushed off the doorway and stepped inside. The air shifted. This was no longer orientation. This was an evaluation. And for the first time since becoming head of Zaun Legal, Sevika looked genuinely curious.
Snapping out of her thoughts, her expression adjusted back to her regular, sharp one. “Get settled quickly,” Sevika spoke again as she headed towards the doorway. “Meeting in 30 minutes.”
Your ears perk up at the sound of attending your first meeting at this job.
You’re smiling brightly as you look back at Sevika. “Alright,” is all you say before turning back around to your objective.
Sevika pauses mid-movement, looking at you once more before closing the glass doorway on her way out.
The sound of heavy boots faded down the hallway as you heard Sevika’s office door closing.
Sevika leaned against her office door and rubbed her temples, trying to figure out why she can’t seem to shake this foreign feeling that’s captivating her senses.
…what was that?
Beginning to organize her documents for the meeting, a quick flash of your smile plays in her head before she drops the papers.
She groans.
Fuck.
This was going to be a long meeting.