Luxanna’s eyes flickered open.  She yawned and slowly forced herself up, her body still heavy and numb from fatigue.  Rays of sunlight fluttered unhindered through the window behind her, reflecting off of her straight, golden hair in a myriad of sparkling lights.  She shook her head and flicked stray locks away from her eyes, glancing at the small clock at her bedside.  Its sleek, hextech design seemed unmarred from years of use, save for the slight wear on its oft abused snooze button.  The red LED lights against its black surface read 6:22, and the Lady of Luminosity sighed as she threw the pale blue covers off of her
	“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath, a certain lightheadedness still affecting her.  “Really shouldn’t have stayed up last night.”  Lux stumbled across her room, blinking away the spots in her foggy vision as she shoved the door open.  Her bare feet made only the faintest squeaks on the wooden floor as she moved down the hallway.  A booming, guttural snoring faintly emanated from one of the nearby doors, and Lux quietly chuckled to herself as she took care not to disturb Garen as she approached the bathroom, slipping inside with only the slight whine of the doorway to mark her passage.  Being slightly more awake, Lux glanced briefly at herself in the mirror, strands of her blonde hair tangled and splayed in aimless directions as it rolled down her shoulders, her white nightgown wrinkled from what was easily a night of restless tossing in her bed.  She smiled at first, then broke out into mute laughter, her disheveled visage reminding her of her time back in the College of Magic, where dull mornings following nights of drunken celebration would be met with a pounding headache and an appearance not unlike having spent the night wandering aimlessly through the Kumungu Jungle.  Flicking the nearby radio on, Lux slid the nightgown off of her petite figure and stepped into the shower.
	“Kyaa!” she yelped, wincing as the first spray of water hit her with all of the grace of a Frejlord breeze.  “Damn thing’s always cold when I first turn it on…”  She hastily turned the handles, the frigid tempest slowly warming into a more refreshing, lukewarm downpour.  She sighed and began lathering herself, the radio booming over the splatter of water.
	“… but so far authorities are still baffled as to the disappearance of the Deathfire Grasp from the vaults.  The Institute continues to claim that the newly introduced Luden’s Echo will serve as a suitable replacement for the lost item, but a growing following of summoners and Valoran denizens alike, many of whom are fans of the beloved champion Veigar, are still pursuing further investigation into the robbery.
	“In other news, Piltover authorities continue to pursue mystery sightings of a vigilante that stalks both Demacian and Piltover streets, assaulting ‘criminals’ and subduing them for authorities.  Piltover officers Caitlyn and Vi declined to publicly comment on their personal view of the vigilante, but authorities urge people to report this individual should they be sighted again due to counts of careless discharge of magic or magical implements in a public setting and assault.  We’ll be right back after this tribute piece where Master Yi led Coast to victory over favorites Team Solomid in last year’s infamous LCS match.”
	“5 red sodas and the x-man claws,
	When I step up in the Rift, yeah, they give me applause,
	I’m a machine, gotta win, ‘cause there ain’t no draws.
	Buckle up, baby, lock the doors!”
	Lux’s thoughts briefly touched on the vigilante, a faint smile creeping on her face.  The sudden appearance of this enigmatic figure in the waning days of the month had taken Valoran news sources by storm, leaving behind a trail of destroyed cartels and unconscious criminals in its wake.  Reports of the vigilante were little more than unsubstantiated rumors and claims of a “dazzling” appearance, followed by the excessive use of magic for painfully brief encounters.  Speculation was whispered from the quietest of Piltover cafes to the rowdiest of Noxian stadiums, accusing champions, summoners, or some upstart mage outside of the Institute’s jurisdiction of causing the riotous affair.  The Institute had tried to dispel the rumors days after the vigilante’s first appearance, but ever since the horrendous Morello affair a year ago, their sphere of influence had dramatically shrunk outside of the League itself.  As its time in the limelight grew, many more people accused the vigilante of the theft of Deathfire Grasp months before, or a factor contributing to the introduction of the new Luden’s Echo.  A small following in Bandle City and Piltover had latched onto the latter theory, leading to its unofficial nickname, Luden.
	“Never a dull moment, it seems,” she said with an amused huff, killing the water with a turn of the handle.

	Lux cleared the final three steps of the airship’s airstairs in a single bound, bathing in the sunlight of an early afternoon Piltover.  The sun above had barely left its peak in the center of the azure skies above, leaving only small shadows under the sprawling cityscape of the City of Progress.  The soles of her shoes made only a soft thud against the cobblestone streets of the bustling city as she quickly navigated through the swirling current of people, her eyes skimming the various signs hanging over the shops of the district, the afternoon breeze softly brushing past the loose blue t-shirt and jeans on the young woman.  She stopped mid step, her eyes fixed on a particularly eloquent sign hanging just above the small cloth canopy.
	“Piltover Peculiar Literature Locale,” she read to herself, brushing past the numerous people in her way to approach the store.  The door opened with a brief shove, leading into a small but fairly populated store.  Graphic novels lined shelf after shelf that stretched out into the very back of the showroom, many of which were currently entertaining the eye of Piltover enthusiasts and curious tourist alike.  Ducking under a huge Noxian juggernaut, his weathered face in tears over the love story grasped in his gigantic hands, she waved the attention of the store clerk, who met Lux with a casual smile and nod.  A stout and middle aged man dressed in the refined garb of any Piltover nobility, a greying moustache failed to hide his expression when the ever popular Lady of Luminosity graced his business.  He tipped his velvet black top hat as she approached the counter, her blue eyes beaming as they glossed over the novels within the counter.
	“Did it come in?  Did it come in?” she said, her enthusiasm that of an excited little girl ready to pounce on the sweets her father brought in.
	“Calm down, Miss Crownguard,” he said with a booming laugh, reaching underneath the counter.  “Don’t worry.  I know that you happen to really love this series, so I made sure to reserve one copy just for one of my favorite customers.”  He winked and slapped the graphic novel onto the counter, the golden yellow hedgehog almost smirking at Lux as it gave its trademark thumbs-up.  “Here you go.  Sonichu Issue 17.  Latest one to come out.”
	“I so fucking love you,” she said, swiping the novel up with a swipe of her hand.  She pulled out her wallet, immediately thumbing through your contents.  “That should be… $6.99, last I checked.”
	The shopkeeper nodded, leaning back as Lux’s probing became gradually more frantic, mild swears muttered under her breath.
	“Demacian coins… Noxian denarii… Bilgewater doubloons… a Shadow Isles minted soul contract… shit, are you kidding me?”
	“This copy is in reserve for you, Lux,” the shopkeeper coolly reminded her, a warm smile on his face.  “We can wait until you pick up some funds from the nearby bank and then you can take the novel home.”
	Lux breathed a smile of relief and lowered the novel back on the counter, wiping away a stray lock from her face.  “Thanks.  Thanks a lot.”
	“Anytime, Miss Crownguard.”
	Spinning on her heel, Lux bolted out of the store, her eyes fixed on the corner of the street.  Sliding through the small gaps that the Piltover citizenry gave to the frantic mage darting down the street, she neared the Piltover United Treasury branch in only a few seconds.  The large, daunting establishment, its polished marble surface trademark of Piltover’s more respectable establishments, rotated myriads of wealthy businessmen and spent tourists through its triple rotating doorways, one of which she quickly slipped herself through.  The doorway gave way to the magnificent regalia of Piltover’s wealth and prestige, with polished and glistening floors lined with trimmed red carpets leading to an innumerable amount of stations, where lines and lines of people stretched all the way back into the doorway.  Lux’s gaze drifted from line to line, each more annoyingly longer than the last, before a small, spring hat caught her eye, shielding the face of a rather small and diminutive figure in the back of a line, a plain black dress causing her to almost blend into the crowd.  As Lux approached the figure, a small, metallic sphere rose from its arms, a small camera jutting out from its center and focusing on her.
	“Orianna!” Lux said, grabbing her by the shoulder.  “What are you doing here?”
	The girl turned, her eyes emanating a pale blue light as they focused on Lux.  “Oh, hello Lux.  I am here to make a withdrawal.  I suppose you are here for the same reason?”
	Lux nodded, glancing briefly at the Ball.  “Yeah, newest issue is out.  Forgot to get some money, though.”  She smiled sheepishly.
	“Ah, I see,” Orianna said, the ends of her mouth turning into a smile to mirror Lux’s own.  “Blitzcrank and I have the day off from any summoning at the Institute, so he suggested we see the new movie out in Piltover.”
	“Wait, the fourth Blasto movie is out?”
	“Yes, Blasto 4:  Requiem for a Reaper, just released yesterday.  According to your human standards, you would consider this a…”
	Orianna nervously cleared her throat, her head quickly snapping to the side.  “… a date.” she muttered under her breath.
	Lux giggled, the unnervingly artificial robot showing some shreds of humanity amidst her metallic shell.  “I should get Quinn, Lulu, and Athanasia together for the movie later then.”
	“Why not see it with Ezreal?” Orianna suggested, locking eyes again with Lux.
	Lux dismissed the suggestion with a curt wave, huffing.  “He doesn’t like Blasto.”
	“What?  That seems… inhuman.”
	“I know,” Lux said with a long sigh, shaking her head.  “He even saw the Christmas movie and he said he didn’t like it at all.”
	“Absolutely no taste.”
	The two shared a hearty laugh, oblivious to the incessant white noise of chatter that surrounded them.  Though Lux’s love and passion for the League made every climatic battle on the Rift an exhilarating experience, there was a great deal of stress.  Expected from a profession where spiked vines and incinerating lasers explode around you as you duck and weave bullets and arrows alike, trying to mount your own counteroffensive while a small voice in your head occasionally tried to share some stratagem and effectively (or tragically ineffectively) cast magic to tip the most heated of battles in your favor, but being able to have a friendly conversation with one of the many friends that occasionally tore her guts out and splattered them across the ground brought an air of calm.  She’d made many friends in the Institute.  Killed many of them.  Been killed by them.  Family dinners with Garen would often be slightly awkward following a match where he’d cleanly impaled his beloved little sister on his greatsword.  She’d heard of many stories at pubs where several of the League champions ended up drinking together and sharing stories of battles on the Rift, some of which eventually devolving into drunken brawls over who would legitimately beat the other outside the Rift without summoner interference.  Normally the Institute forbade open violence between champions so they would, obviously, not be injured for League matches, but she figured that somewhere along the time they stopped caring about the brawls that sprung up every other week.