Arcane Enforcer's Pet Epilogue - New Dawn (End)

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The office was shrouded in a thick, acrid haze that reeked of stale smoke and desperation. The walls were stained yellow from years of nicotine buildup, and every surface was sticky to the touch. Rasco sat at his desk, the flickering glow of a single candle casting long shadows across the room as he counted his ill-gotten gains. The clink of coins echoed through the space, punctuated by his occasional grumbles.

That damn Zelia...he seethed, slamming a stack of coins onto the table with enough force to make the candle waver. He should have known better than to rely on a vastaya slut as a thief… even if she hadn’t been bad at it. No loyalty in those animals at all. After she had robbed him, though, she had vanished completely. But now, after several months with no sign of her, whispers had started circulating through the Undercity. She’d been spotted. And when he found her...

Well, he would be having a long, painful conversation with her about loyalty before she became an example to the rest of his thieves about why he shouldn’t be crossed. Rasco's normally stoic expression twisted into a snarl, revealing his true intentions for Zelia's betrayal.

The heavy wooden door was violently thrown open, slamming against the wall with a deafening bang that made Rasco's ears ring. One of his thugs stumbled into the room, his sodden clothes clinging to his body and sweat dripping down his face. His chest heaved up and down as if he had just sprinted across the city of Zaun barefoot. Rasco's eyes narrowed in anger at the intrusion.

"What in the hell do you think you're doing barging in here like a madman?" he bellowed, standing so quickly that his chair screeched back on the floor. "You have five seconds to explain yourself before I—"

But the man didn't even give him five seconds. "Boss! You—you need to run! Right now!" he choked out, struggling to catch his breath and speak at the same time. Panic filled his wide eyes, and his hands shook uncontrollably as he gestured urgently towards the door.

Rasco froze, his gut twisting. Run? From what? Before he could demand answers, a flash of blue light erupted from the doorway. The thug yelped as an electrified net wrapped around him, the wires sparking and crackling with energy. He crumpled to the ground, twitching violently, his screams cut short as his body went rigid.

Rasco's heart raced as the net sizzled and died, leaving the air stinking of ozone and singed hairs. His hand instinctively went to the dagger strapped to his belt, but he hesitated as two figures stepped into the room.

Vi strode into the hideout first, her metallic gauntlets glowing with an otherworldly energy. It seemed as though they were alive, steam swirling off them and adding to the air of danger and mystery surrounding her. The Enforcer was recognizable to him at a glance… she was one of the most famous - or infamous, depending on who you asked - people in Zaun, after all. Her Enforcer uniform gleamed in the dim light, contrasting with the grime and decay of their hideout. As her vibrant blue eyes locked onto Rasco's, a smirk played on her lips, sending a shiver down his spine.

Following closely behind her was the Sheriff he had foolishly attempted to rob. Caitlyn, tall and composed, entered the room with ease, her rifle held casually in her hands. The eyepatch over her left eye glinted in the candlelight, adding to the mystery surrounding her. Her expression remained calm and collected, almost bored even, as if this were just another day on the job. But there was a precise calculation in the way she scanned the room, making Rasco feel like a small animal being hunted by a skilled predator.

‘How did they find me here?’ he thought, his mind racing. The guild's location was supposed to be secret. Known only to the most trusted members. He swallowed hard, his voice cracking as he finally managed to speak. "How... how did you—"

Before he could finish, a third figure stepped into view. At first, Rasco didn’t recognize her. The bright blue Enforcer uniform was unfamiliar, and her hair—dark and shorter than he remembered—threw him off. Then he saw the wolf ears, the golden eyes, the defiant tilt of the vastaya’s chin.

Zelia.

Rasco's eyes widened in shock as he realized who the third figure was. Zelia stood before him with an expression of disgust on her face. Her transformation was jarring. Gone was the little harmless thief he’d known and lusted after… and in her place stood someone who carried herself with authority. Confidence, even. Handcuffs dangled from her fingers, their metal glinting in the dim light.

Rasco stared at her, his mouth hanging open. "You?" he spat, disbelief and fury twisting his features. "What the hell is this?"

Zelia stepped forward, her gaze steady. "Rasco," she said, her voice firm and unyielding, "for your attack on the Kiramman estate and your crimes against the Undercity, and by the authority of the Piltover Council, you are hereby placed under arrest." She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in. "You will be judged for your crimes.”

For a moment, the room was silent. Then Rasco let out a bitter laugh, his disbelief giving way to sheer rage. "You traitorous little bitch," he snarled, slamming his fist on the desk. "After everything I did for you—"

Zelia cut him off, her voice rising. "Everything you did for me?" she shot back, her golden eyes blazing. "You used me. Just like you use everyone else. You don’t care about the Undercity. You don’t care about anyone but yourself."

Caitlyn stepped forward, her rifle trained on Rasco. "Enough chatter," she said coolly. "Hands where we can see them."

Rasco hesitated, his hand still hovering near his dagger. Think, damn it, think. But before he could decide whether to fight or flee, Vi moved. In one fluid motion, she closed the distance between them, her gauntlets crackling with energy. "Don’t make this harder than it has to be," she warned, her tone low and dangerous.

Zelia stepped closer, too, the handcuffs ready. "It’s over, Rasco. Surrender."

His eyes darted between the three of them, calculating his chances. He wasn’t a fool—he knew when he was outmatched. With a growl of frustration, he raised his hands slowly, glaring daggers at Zelia. "This isn’t over," he hissed. "You think you’re safe now? Do you think they’ll protect you? You’re just another tool to them."

Zelia didn’t flinch. She met his gaze head-on, her resolve unwavering. "Maybe," she said quietly. "But at least I chose to be. And at least I’m not your tool anymore."

As she stepped forward to cuff him, Rasco’s lips curled into a sneer. He was the guildmaster of the Thieving Guild, and he wasn’t going to go down like this to some bitch. He jerked his arm towards her, fingers stretching to catch whatever he could — hair, skin, cloth; it didn’t matter as long as he grabbed hold of her. He was ready to use every dirty trick he knew to get out of this alive. His survival instincts kicked in with feral intensity — but Zelia was faster than he remembered. Her quick response threw him off-balance as she deftly slipped beneath his outstretched arm. Her speed was uncanny, and the next thing he knew, she was behind him and had seized a fistful of his hair.

Her iron grip was unforgiving, and Rasco’s mind reeled as she yanked his head back so hard that pain shot down his neck. He hadn’t expected such strength from the slight, starved vastaya who had always seemed so skinny and helpless; it was as though he were trying to wrestle a wild animal as she dragged his other hand behind his back. Every muscle in his body tensed and strained against him, but Zelia’s grip refused to let go. Then before he could squirm free she used his own momentum against him, slamming his head onto the desk.

The impact left him stunned. A flash of light filled his vision as his forehead hit the wood, and for a moment he was disoriented. The surfaces of the desk dug into his skin, and he tasted blood where he’d bitten his lip. His pulse thundered in his ears, drowning out the room around him. He struggled to breathe, each intake of air ragged and forced. “You broke my fucking nose!” he spat.

“I said ‘surrender,’” Zelia repeated, her voice cutting through his daze with brutal clarity. The words echoed in his mind, a final nail in the coffin of his defeat.

He huffed out a breath as he felt the cold steel of her cuffs brush his arm. "You’ll regret this," he muttered under his breath.

Zelia leaned in close, her voice dropping to a whisper only he could hear. "No," she replied, her tone fierce. "I won’t."

The cuffs clicked into place, and Rasco’s shoulders sagged in defeat. For the first time in his life, he felt truly powerless. He glanced at Vi and Caitlyn, their expressions unreadable, and then back at Zelia. She’s changed, he realized with a sinking feeling. And there was no going back.

As they began to lead him out of the office, Rasco couldn’t shake the image of Zelia in that Enforcer uniform. It was like looking at a stranger — someone he had never really known at all.

This isn’t over, he told himself. Not yet.

But deep down, he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, it really was.

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The Enforcer uniform clung to Zelia’s skin like a second layer she wasn’t sure she liked. It itched around the collar, the fabric too heavy and stiff compared to the loose, makeshift clothes she was used to in the Undercity. She tugged at the sleeves absently as she trailed behind Caitlyn and Vi, her wolf ears twitching under the brim of the cap she still hadn’t gotten used to wearing. The uniform felt alien—yet, in some strange way, it also felt right. Like it belonged on her.

Like she belonged here.

The Kiramman estate loomed ahead, its towering gates opening with a quiet hum of well-greased machinery. Zelia paused for a moment, her golden eyes scanning the ornate facade. It was hard to believe this was the same place she had broken into weeks ago, back when she was just a thief trying to outsmart the guild. Back when she thought her biggest problem was Rasco. Her tail flicked nervously behind her as memories flooded in—the cold basement, the hours of torture, the humiliation. And then… the shift. The realization that maybe, just maybe, Caitlyn and Vi weren’t just her captors. That they could actually be trying to fix the world. That she believed in them.

“You coming, Puppy?” Vi’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. The red-haired Enforcer smirked over her shoulder, her hair contrasting against the brightness of her uniform under the afternoon sun. Caitlyn, walking beside her, glanced back as well, her one visible eye softening slightly.

Zelia nodded quickly, jogging to catch up. “Yeah, sorry,” she muttered, falling into step behind them. She kept her gaze forward, but her mind was wandering again. This was the third time she’d entered this estate. The first time, she’d been a thief, sneaking through the shadows, her heart pounding as she avoided the fight going on below. The second time, she’d been dragged in as a prisoner, cuffed and terrified, unsure if she’d survive, and the Enforcers had interrogated her in the basement for months. Now…

Now she walked through the front gate, her head held high. An Enforcer. This was her home now.

Vi and Caitlyn talked softly to each other, their voices a low murmur Zelia didn’t bother tuning into. Instead, her thoughts drifted to Rasco. The memory of his face as they arrested him sent a shiver down her spine. He’d looked at her like she was a stranger, like he couldn’t believe what she’d become. And maybe he was right. Maybe she wasn’t the same girl who had once sworn loyalty to the thieves’ guild. She felt… lighter somehow. Freer. For the first time in her life, she didn’t have to look over her shoulder, didn’t have to wonder when Rasco would call in another favor or demand another job. She was done with all of it.

The thought made her chest tighten with a mix of relief and anxiety. What did that mean for her? Who was she, really, without the guild? Without the chaos and the adrenaline and the constant fight for survival? She didn’t have an answer yet. But as she followed Caitlyn and Vi into the grand foyer of the estate, the marble floors cooled beneath her boots, she realized she didn’t need one. Not right now.

Suddenly, the conversation ahead stopped. Caitlyn and Vi turned to face her, their expressions unreadable. Zelia froze, her ears flattening against her head as a flush crept up her neck. She could feel their eyes on her, sharp and assessing, and her stomach twisted with a familiar mix of fear and anticipation.

“Officer Puppy,” Caitlyn said softly, her voice a velvet purr that sent a shiver down Zelia’s spine. The tall woman stepped closer, her eyepatch giving her an air of mystery that only made her more intimidating. “Why don’t you join us?”

Vi grinned, crossing her arms as she leaned casually against the doorframe. “Yeah, Puppy. Don’t keep us waiting.”

Zelia swallowed hard, her heart hammering in her chest. She knew they were watching her as she slowly began to undo the buttons of her jacket. The cool metal against her fingers felt like cold fire against the warmth of her skin. Her hands trembled slightly as she continued to disrobe, each piece of her uniform falling away and leaving her exposed.

She stood there for a moment, vulnerable and trembling, as Caitlyn and Vi's gazes roamed over her body, hungry. A bead of sweat trickled down her spine as she waited for their next move.

And then, in a silent understanding, she dropped to her knees. The cold marble floor sent shivers through her bare skin as she crawled forward, like a supplicant before her goddesses. Caitlyn extended a hand, brushing gentle fingertips under Zelia's chin to tilt her face up.

"Good girl," Caitlyn murmured, her voice both warm and commanding. And in that moment, as Zelia gazed up at them with adoring eyes, she knew that this was where she belonged - at their feet.

Zelia shuddered, her golden eyes locking onto Caitlyn’s. She felt… safe. Safe in a way she never had before, even as the power dynamic between them crackled in the air. She followed them willingly as they led her deeper into the estate, her heartbeat echoing in her ears.

The bedroom loomed before her, its opulence contrasting with the grit of the Undercity. Zelia paused at the threshold, her breath catching in her throat as memories flooded back—memories of sneaking through this very room, her heart pounding, her fingers trembling as she rifled through drawers and overturned bookshelves in her desperate search for the key. The air had been thick with tension then, every creak of the floorboards a potential death sentence. She’d been a thief, a shadow, a predator stalking its prey.

Now, the room felt different. Softer. Warmer. The same moonlight that had once illuminated her frantic movements now bathed the space in a gentle glow. Her golden eyes swept over the bed, its pristine sheets untouched, and she couldn’t help but compare it to the chaos she’d left behind last time. The memory of her own hands tearing through the room, scattering papers and trinkets, made her cheeks burn with shame—and something else. Something hotter, more primal.

Caitlyn’s voice broke the silence, smooth and commanding. “Come here, Zelia.”

Her ears twitched, flattening slightly against her head as she stepped forward. The cool marble beneath her bare feet sent a shiver up her spine, but it was nothing compared to the heat pooling low in her stomach. She hesitated for only a moment before dropping to her knees, her tail curling around her leg as she crawled toward the bed. The movement was deliberate, submissive, and it sent a thrill through her that she couldn’t quite name.

Vi’s chuckle echoed from behind her, low and teasing. “Look at you, Puppy. Not so tough now, huh?”

Zelia’s lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, she focused on the way her body moved, the way her hips swayed ever so slightly as she climbed onto the bed. The sheets were cool against her skin, a stark contrast to the fire burning inside her. She settled on all fours, her head bowed, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she awaited her mistress’ next command.

Caitlyn’s hand brushed against her cheek, the touch feather-light yet electrifying. “You’ve come so far,” she murmured, her voice dripping with approval. “From thief to Enforcer. From rebel to… this.”

Zelia’s chest tightened at the words, her mind racing. She had come far. Too far, maybe. But as Caitlyn’s fingers traced the line of her jaw, tilting her face up until their eyes met, she couldn’t bring herself to care. The power dynamic between them was intoxicating, the way Caitlyn and Vi held her in their gaze like she was something precious, something worth taming.

“Good girl,” Caitlyn whispered, her thumb brushing over Zelia’s bottom lip.

The praise sent a jolt through her, her body trembling as she leaned into the touch. She wasn’t a thief anymore. She wasn’t running, hiding, or fighting. She was theirs. And for once, she didn’t want to be anywhere else… or do anything else. Vi’s fingers wrapped in her hair, and Zelia closed her eyes, sinking into the sensation. She didn’t know what the future held, didn’t know who she was becoming. But in this moment, with Caitlyn and Vi surrounding her, she knew one thing for certain: she was exactly where she was meant to be.

And she wouldn’t have it any other way.

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