Chapter Text
Underneath the shining and brilliant city of Piltover, where natural light no longer shone and the air was so thick and unnatural, the machines preferred it to the humans, there was an undercity that was stuffed away from the world, either from shame or from malice. Both could have been just as likely, and just as probable. This seedy underbelly did not have a name. Some called it the Lanes, or the Flows, or any number of names, but it was never official. Piltover would never do something as official as recognize their regrets and oppression. But, to the people who lived there, and wanted something better for their future than their present, this place was called Zaun. This name didn't need to be official for it to be their legacy. Just as the Pilties had the privilege of given names they wouldn't dare bestow onto the undercity, Zaun had no official identity, ruling class, or government. Instead, they had bickering, infighting, and gangs that took advantage of the chaos.
With all of the horrid things that preceded Zaun's name and identity, it was still home. At some points in time, Viktor would have said that this was unfortunately his home, but even at the worst, he was still proud of his heritage and what he had to go through to get to where he was. It was a waste to devote time and energy to figuring out which part of his upbringing was to blame for his body's deterioration. He could just as easily spend that time working towards a solution that would not only benefit himself but the whole of Zaun and perhaps even greater than that.
Viktor found himself lost in that thought as he skimmed a shelf inside of a small shop that was shoved in between a nook and a cranny deep within Zaun. This shop had no name, and Viktor only knew the shop keeper as Hal. As Viktor browsed some trinkets that were sat together haphazardly on a tilted shelf, he picked one up that had a dim glow to it. Before he inspected it more closely, he blew off a thick layer of dust that coated the miniature device. Whether this dust was just a regular side effect of inhabiting Zaun the Gray that haunted it or it had not been looked at or looked after in years, Viktor did not know. He cared not for assumptions in cases like these; it was useless to ponder further on things where an answer was fruitless. He had trained himself long ago that asking a question was imperative, but following through endlessly on dead ends and withering trails was not just unwarranted, but also a waste of his talents.
His breath had blown off most of the dust, but some still lingered stubbornly; this, he wiped away with a finger. His lungs already protested the over-expenditure of air and he did not want to press his luck more than he already was. His eyes wandered over to his cane that leaned against the shelving beside where he stood upon that thought. Although he was walking better recently with his new experimental treatments, he still relied on that fancy piece of wood more than he wanted to.
Viktor steered his attention back to the gadget in his hands. It seemed to be made out of bronze or perhaps pure copper, judging by the finishing and the sturdiness of the outside. Something glowed through corners that were no longer joined together; time had worn the welding apart naturally as it did to many things down in Zaun. This tiny contraption was a puzzle, with a prize that had been trapped inside for so long that it had been forgotten by its maker and any potential seekers of said prize. Viktor twirled the object around in his hand, absentmindedly fiddling with the corners when the familiar dinging of the door opening rang through the narrow and cluttered shop.
His eyes flittered over the shelves to gawk at the front door. He had been in this little shop many times before; it was his favorite place to find things most found as junk and find the value of them, either as they were or after change. He found solace in this. Because of this, Viktor frequented this place more than he would ever care to admit to anyone (not that it was embarrassing, just that it was not a needed conversation to have) and he had never seen another person in this shop before. Not once.
His eyes scanned above the shelves, not finding whoever opened that door. Maybe it was the wind... or a very small person. Viktor smiled at that thought.
Stuffing the gadget in a small vest pocket, Viktor focused attention back to the shelves. His eyes only briefly scanned the bottom shelves. It was pointless for him to devote any attention down there when he wouldn't dare to try and reach them. Even if he was feeling brazen that day, he knew his limits. By Janna herself, did he know those limits.
His eyes did not find anything that caught his attention through the muck of bits and bobs and he could feel the spark of attention waning from his mind. The all-too-familiar constriction of brain fog was on its way. It wasn't a warm embrace, no, it was a suction that drained all his energy and his thoughts. He forced out a sigh, his lungs shaking at the effort. Well, there goes the rest of his day. He picked up his cane and started towards the shop counter. At that moment, just before Viktor was planning to step past the slanted shop door, it slammed opened, almost knocking him out of the way. Viktor scoffed and was about to confront whoever disrespected the shop like that, but dodged out of the way as three huge thugs stomped through, each with a mechanical mouthpiece surgically attached to their lips. They all had slick hair combed back, and the one in the back hat a black bowler hat to "complement" his too large suit. They were all dressed like cheap Piltie imitators, feeling too big for themselves and like they owned the place, no matter where they walked. Even though Viktor tried to keep his nose out of the pathetic excuse of politics in the Lanes, he knew these folks ran with one of the chem barons. Who, he couldn't say, but their signature breathing apparatuses popped up enough for it to be the only reason behind it. They did little to keep the Gray away, Viktor had surmised through his own tests.
Viktor scowled at the three men but they paid him no mind, acting as if he didn't even exist, even though they had almost barreled right through him. Although it angered him, he knew how easy it was to look right through people, especially if they were worse off than you. He had been the victim well enough times to understand.
The three goons fit themselves in between tightly packed shelves, their eyes scanning somewhere further in the back of the shop. The door dinged and announced that it shut, and they paid Viktor no heed. Viktor glanced back to the door. He could leave, and go back to his laboratory and call it a day.
But, the curiosity of the situation... it drew him in like a moth to a flame. How interesting it was that these folks were in a place like this. Viktor veered his head over to the shop counter and didn't see Hal anywhere. That man, like most in Zaun, knew when to steer clear of obvious danger. Not Viktor, he thought to himself with a bittersweet smirk. Scientists, innovators, they were smart when they wanted and dumb when its not needed. Well, at least he knew he was walking into danger.
Viktor stepped past the door and between thick shelves. Being so conscious of walking normally, he knew how to obscure the sound of his footsteps, as he did so here. The thugs filed into a more open spot in the back corner of the shop, where usually larger trinkets were held in display. Now, though, there was a small Yordle that was thoroughly inspecting a bronze globe. The thugs surrounded the small being, and still the Yordle did not notice. Viktor noticed a slight humming coming from them, though, as he got closer to the scene. The poor thing didn't even realize it was about to get robbed, mugged, or worse, he surmised with a grimace.
Just as the leader of this trio was about to pull out a pipe, Viktor cleared his throat and stepped forward with his strong leg. "Is there a problem here?" He announced clearly, loud enough for the Yordle to gasp with a small "Oh!" and turn around to see the situation unfurling in front of him.
The thugs barely looked at Viktor as he made his way forward, enough to fit in between the main one and the thug on the right. The big guy didn't take out his pipe, but his eyes never left the Yordle as he puffed out, "What's it to ya?" The contraption on his face filtered out his words so they had a bit of a lisp to them, and ended with a rattle, like a screw was loose in his lungs.
Viktor gestured evenly to the Yordle. "My... associate likes to get lost in his craft sometimes. Isn't that right..." Viktor stared at the being intensely, hoping they would get the hint.
"Oh, oh, yes! This young lad is quite right!" He ended the sentence with a chuckle.
Viktor then returned the main thug's gaze coldly, staring up at him unflinchingly. "I ask again, is there a problem here?"
The man chuckled at him, sounding more like a grating wheeze than a laugh, and crossed his arms. "No problem here..." He and his two lesser goons shuffled past Viktor, with one knocking the cane out of his hand. Viktor did not cease his stare as the cane clattered to the floor, nor did he cease while they knocked a few things off of the shelves and shouldered their way through the door. It was only as the door swung back shut that he allowed himself to relax. His back protested by shooting pain from his legs up through his spine.
He alleviated it partly by leaning against the nearby shelf and kept his focus -- as much as he could at that point -- on the door. It wasn't until something poked his arm that his focus wavered and he looked to the intrusion. The small Yordle held Viktor's cane up to him, and Viktor accepted it hesitantly. "...Thank you," he finally said.
"No, thank you, my boy!" The Yordle's eyes twinkled as he picked up a small orb and inspected it. "I would have been in quite the kerfuffle back there if you hadn't stepped in there, by the look of things." He hobbled over to the counter, but stopped and waggled his brows at Viktor. "Come, come!"
Without waiting for him, the Yordle handed several small, glistening coins to Hal, who had mysteriously appeared just as quickly as he had disappeared earlier, now that goods were about to be exchanged. "For this young lad's curiosities, too." Hal glared down at Viktor, and he fished out the trinket from his vest pocket, gesturing it oh so slightly. Hal grunted, dropping the coins into a pouch on his belt. Before Hal could fester up the change, the Yordle was already out the door, and Viktor had no choice but to follow the quick little fellow.
Viktor shouldered the door open with his free shoulder and stepped out onto the narrow and winding cobble path, a back alley that branched out into a cobweb of streets beside one of the main Lanes.
"Wait!.. You forgot your..." Viktor shouted.
"Knowledge waits for no one, lad!" The Yordle dismissed Viktor's quandary with a wave of his tiny hand.
Viktor shook his hand but still followed the curious fellow. How odd, but it piqued his curiosity. There were some people who demanded respect just by their aura or commanded attention. This being, though, he commanded curiosity.
The Yordle led the both of them down one alley and weaved through a heavy crowd one a market path. Flocks of people were not Viktor's strong suit, and he lagged behind the Yordle until he broke from the crowd into a shipping lane. After a few excruciating moments, Viktor was able to follow down. Once he had the Yordle back in his sights, he gasped out, "Stop!"
The Yordle impulsively obliged and turned around. Viktor's leg and lungs were screaming at him, burning his insides. He hobbled over to a crate and collapsed onto it. White spots danced and twirled around the corners of his vision, and the harsh air made his eyes water. The Yordle walked up to him, bowing his head. "Ah, my apologies, lad. I forget myself sometimes."
Viktor braced himself against his cane and lifted a hand, swatting away the statement. "Just... why did you want me to follow you?"
"Ah, I get ahead of myself too! It's a bad habit of mine," the Yordle said with a smile. "The name's Heimerdinger! Professor Heimerdinger."
"...Professor?" Viktor then quickly connected the dots in his head. "Any professor made a few wrong turns to be down here, Heimerdinger." Viktor rubbed his face wearily. "You were followed. Even the chem baron's pawns knew you didn't belong down here."
Heimerdinger nodded to the wisdom at that, pacing back and forth. "I'll be sure to don something more fitting next time. I must admit, I do come down here sometimes to find more... eccentric objects."
"So, why did I follow you, Professor?" Viktor asked, his heart fluttering at the mention of Professor.
He stopped and spun to Viktor. "What you did today was an inspiration, my boy! That took courage and cunning. You have a bright mind, I can tell." He glanced around them, like he was about to divulge a secret and didn't wan anyone to overhear, and leaned in. "I'd like to invite you to the Academy!"