After roughly 38 hours of drawing, 10 hours of research and design work, and a few more spent writing the backstory, I can finally share this conceptual, hypothetical AU of Noxian Caitlyn.
First comes the full concept panel study, where everything is broken down and explained. Below that, you’ll find the narrative backstory, and at the very bottom, Caitlyn placed in her final battle setting. (+ close-ups)
This is the tale of Caitlyn’s descent.
Not a fall born of ambition, but of grief, neglect, and wounds left to fester too long.
It began with the Council’s deafness.
Piltover’s elite turned away when the warnings came. When Caitlyn and Vi spoke of the storm brewing in Zaun, their voices were met with indifference and politics. The city she had sworn to protect chose comfort over truth, leaving her isolated, unheard, and slowly unraveling.
Then came the moment that shattered her.
Her mother died in the chaos unleashed by Jinx, another casualty written off as collateral damage. The loss tore through Caitlyn with brutal finality.
Grief clawed at Caitlyn’s soul, planting seeds of doubt and rage. Pain curdled into anger. Anger into uncertainty.
She questioned everything: her upbringing, her role, her alliances. The careful distance she had always kept between herself and violence. In her desperation for order and vengeance, she turned to Ambessa Medarda, the Noxian warlord whose iron fist promised the control Caitlyn craved.
Yet, in another timeline, Caitlyn might have clawed her way back to the light, reuniting with Vi and reclaiming her path.
This isn’t that story.
Vi, shattered by the loss of everything that had once given her hope, her sister and the love of her life, spiraled into the pit-fighting rings of Zaun’s depths. Fueled by relentless brawls drowned in cheap liquor, she pushed her body beyond its limits night after night.
One fateful night, amid the roar of the crowd, Vi’s heart gave out. She collapsed in a dingy arena. And even though Caitlyn searched for her, it was too late.
There was no dramatic rescue. No second chance. Just silence, sweat, and the unbearable weight of a body that would never breathe again. When Caitlyn finally found her, she cradled Vi’s lifeless form in the filth of the undercity.
The blame crashed over her like a tidal wave.
If only she had been faster. Stronger. More insistent with the Council.
If only she had pulled Vi from the abyss sooner.
The loss, and the guilt, crushed her.
Vi had been her anchor. Her reason. Her last connection to something human.
And now she was gone.
Ambessa seized the moment.
“They failed you, child,” she murmured, draping Caitlyn in the cloak of Noxian ambition. “The Council. Your city. Even your love. They all abandoned you. But I see your potential. Together, we can forge a new order, one where weakness is crushed and justice is absolute.”
Blinded by sorrow and self-loathing, Caitlyn surrendered. Not out of ambition, but exhaustion. Out of grief. Out of a desperate need to make the world make sense again.
She became Ambessa’s commander, her once-noble aim twisted into ruthless campaigns against Zaun’s rebels.
Her purpose warped. Hextech once meant to protect was reforged, corrupted, burning with violent red light instead of the blue magical forcefield. Precision became punishment. Justice became domination. Fused with Noxian armor, her sniper’s precision now served imperial conquest.
Whispers of the Fallen Kiramman spread across battlefields and broken cities.
They spoke of a woman in dark armor.
Of a rifle that burned like a brand.
Of a force that no longer hesitated.
A tragic figure who traded her soul for power, forever haunted by guilt and the ghosts of the two people she could not save.