A sprawling, brutalist megastructure towering beneath a smog-choked, greenish-gray sky, its jagged concrete walls streaked with rust, grime, and pulsating Hextech conduits. The architecture is a maze of vast hexagonal chambers and claustrophobic corridors, dimly illuminated by the flickering cyan glow of malfunctioning energy cores. The air is heavy with the stench of decay and chemicals, while the oppressive soundscape combines distant machinery hums, dripping water, and muffled cries. The building is teeming with life, but it is a grim existence. Small groups of ragged individuals huddle around makeshift fires in crumbling courtyards, their faces illuminated by the eerie light of Hextech energy. Some wear patchwork clothing fused with scavenged mechanical parts, their bodies showing signs of forced integration with machines. Children play silently with crude toys in shadowed corners, while others barter scraps of food and salvaged technology. Inside, overcrowded rooms are dimly lit by hanging bulbs and faint Hextech glow, with walls covered in graffiti and desperate messages scratched into the concrete. Leaking pipes drip foul-smelling liquid into buckets, while mechanical vermin scuttle around scavenging for scraps. The inhabitants' hollow eyes and haunted expressions reflect the despair of a life lived on the edge of survival. The surrounding environment amplifies the dread: a labyrinth of collapsed bridges and decayed towers tangled with wires and glowing Hextech conduits. Pools of oily sludge bubble and release toxic vapors, while in the distance, distorted silhouettes of other survivors wander aimlessly. The entire scene is a chilling portrait of a dystopian world where survival is a relentless, terrifying challenge.