Katana Cloverfield was doing her daily pushups inside her prison cell. Her every breath echoed from behind bars. She had grown accustomed to the quiet life, locked away in a dungeon below the Institute. Reading. Regularly exercising. Then, occasionally practising martial arts against a heavy punching bag hanging at the bedside corner of the room.

Katana had been stuck in the same grey residence, day in, day out. Transferred over from Piltover to the Institute, Katana was refused, by the high council, a position as Champion of the League and remained a prisoner. Now she was in the most reinforced facility in all of Runeterra. A criminal such a herself could only be released under the supervision of a Summoner or Champion. One with a high enough authority. Unfortunately, neither of those titles had yet approached Katana. Not that she minded. From her cell room, Katana could comfortably live out her sentence.

Surrounded by what sounded like monsters, Katana was only able to exchange words with the inmate next doors to her room. Shaco was his name. Someone Katana thought was the only other human prisoner at the Institute. However, subject to laughing fits at least three times a day, Katana could tell that Shaco was unstable. Mentally so. Nevertheless she frequently talked with the clown. Exchanging rumours, jokes and the occasional advice.

Satisfied by her work out, Katana sat against the side of the her bed, gasping for air while reaching for a bottle of water on her night stand. She emptied the bottle with ease the moment its cool and refreshing content moisturised her upper lip.

'I. Spy. Company!'

Katana: Here for you I imagine.

Katana put a small towel around the nape of her neck.

Shaco: Ya never know.

Katana heard footsteps approaching from outside her cell room door. She began tying her hair back in a long brown ponytail. The door opened slowly, and a man wearing a long purple Summoner's robe walked into the room. Behind that man stood two prison guards equipped with greatswords. The Summoner kept his hood up and smiled once he was directly facing Katana.

Summoner: Katana Cloverfield

Katana: Yes?

Summoner: (smiles) My name is Kalin. I'm a summoner here in the Institute.

Katana: I can see that.

Katana pulled the towel off her neck and used it to wipe the sweat off her brow.

Katana: And to what do I owe the pleasure?

Kalin ordered the guards to wait outside the prison cell.

Summoner Kalin: I have a proposal for you.

Katana: (sniggers) Proposing so soon? We've only just met.

Summoner Kalin: (smiles) No. Not that kind of proposal.

Katana: I'm listening.

Summoner Kalin: Here at the Institute as you may as well know, there are many...more comfortable rooms that are yet to be occupied.

Katana: More comfortable prison cells you mean?

Summoner Kalin: No. (pauses) I am referring to the dorm rooms reserved only for Champions of the League.

Katana threw her towel over on her pillow, and proceeded to adjust her ponytail.

Katana: And what of these...luxurious rooms?

Summoner Kalin: One of these rooms could be yours where you may eat, sleep and even exit from without cause.

Katana stared the Summoner down. She was growing impatient and wasn't too fond of wordplay.

Katana: Look. Just tell it to me straight. What's the catch?

Summoner Kalin: (sighs) Very well. Last night, a Champion of the League, Nocturne, escaped from his enclosure.

Katana: Did he now? And what does that have to do with-

Summoner Kalin: I was hoping...that you would help the Institute bring him back. Capture him as it were.

Katana took a moment to ponder at the offer.

Katana: In exchange for one a' them rooms?

Kalin nodded.

Katana: Wouldn't that make me like a Champion of the League?

Kalin: (pause) I suppose it would in a way.

Katana smiled.

Katana: Alright then.