Work Text:
Jayce had put up a commendable fight. But all conflict had to come to an end.
As Viktor approaches the kneeling body before him, he feels triumph. He had struggled so much, practically destroyed his failing body, all to reach this end.
He reaches out and cards his fingers through Jayce’s hair until they settle on his forehead. The bright thread of the arcane bursts forth through his finger tips, shining through his former partner’s very soul.
(For all his insight granted by the Hexcore, Viktor did not see how Jayce’s eyes were closed in defeat, waiting for his end at the hands of someone he had once held most dear.)
---
Piltover is covered with the never-decaying iridescence of the Hexcore, and it is a sight to behold. It’s sublime, satisfying, an end to the pain and suffering that Viktor had witnessed run rampant throughout his city. There was no more violence, no more emotion. No illness to plague anyone. They all just existed in this peaceful suspension.
Of course, there is no new life either. But Viktor finds that he does not mind.
---
That is, he does not mind it at first.
---
His body is a combination of genius mechanics and the wild arcane, so neatly intertwined that he’s not quite sure where one begins and the other ends. He is a machine, yes, but he is so much more.
As time goes on, in his hollow body bursting with magical potential, he finds that something begins to take root.
Anger.
It’s irrational, of course, to feel such a thing. To feel at all is nonsensical. He had eliminated the need for this human failing, hadn’t he? Viktor had not believed there to be potential for such a redundant thing anymore, but it’s there all the same.
He ignores it.
---
As the days slip by like a river, he finds that the anger grows without his permission.
He walks through the remnants of Piltover, trying to calm himself with his creation. The quiet stasis of the world used to bring him clarity. It was a reminder that he had achieved all he had ever wanted. That he had won.
Our hextech dream.
The memory comes unbidden. Yes, hadn’t he fulfilled it? Their dream of bringing hextech to the people? Technically, none of this would be possible without hextech.
So why is the satisfaction ebbing away slowly, leaving room for this useless anger? He’s surrounded by perfection, and all that’s left is Jayce’s unsolicited voice reaching him from the ether.
He stops, taking in his surroundings. With a sinking feeling, he realized that he’d walked to the last place he had confronted Jayce. His body was still there, though it had been warped much like the others. There were no more distinguishing features that would make you think that this was the once lauded Man of Progress, but Viktor would know him anywhere. He was stuck there, a snapshot of a moment in time, still gripping on to that damned hammer, refusing to look at Viktor.
Viktor turns on his heel before his anger can bubble over.
---
He experiments with runes. He studies the arcane. He heightens himself even further. Though his glorious evolution has been achieved, there’s no reason to cease learning.
New discoveries help bring back that sense of satisfaction. For a moment, he’s able to forget the anger. He’s able to exist.
---
It does not last for long.
---
Some of the other citizens that he had liberated still move despite having been divested of their mortal forms. They twitch, as if in response to the power in Viktor. It’s endearing, he tells himself. Like some sort of sun-seeking plant reaching towards him.
Jayce’s form, in contrast, had never once moved. Viktor would know. He finds himself coming to see his old friend more and more often. It’s like Jayce had given up completely. Even now, he was ignoring Viktor, blind to his presence.
“Do you see?” Viktor rasps, before swallowing. His voice was rough with disuse. Has it really been so long since he had spoken?
He spreads his arms out as if to gesture to the world before them. “There is no more fighting. No more pain. This is what we wanted. Do you see what I’ve achieved?”
There is no response. Viktor knew there would be no response. It would have been illogical to expect anything else. Still, that does not abate the fire that has begun to blaze within him.
---
Viktor doesn’t dream anymore. He cannot remember the last time that he had. Was it before he had almost died? Before Jayce had sustained him with the Hexcore? He does not know.
However, he does remember the past.
Viktor blinked awake slowly as a weight settled over him. He’d always been a light sleeper. He took in his surroundings, unsurprised to see that he had fallen asleep at his lab desk. It was a common occurrence.
“Oh. I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” Jayce’s voice came from behind him. Viktor turned around, watching as Jayce settled the blanket around his shoulders.
He chuckled. “You really shouldn’t be sleeping here, V.” He’s admonishing Viktor, but his voice is undeniably fond, so Viktor doesn’t bristle.
A warm hand clasps around his shoulder, before Jayce retreats to his side of the lab.
Jayce had always been a tactile person. A steadying hand at the small of Viktor’s back here, a brush of the arm there. It had been one of the many things that Viktor had become accustomed to about Jayce Talis.
Did Jayce keep a blanket here in the lab just in case one of them fell asleep?
Instead of asking the question aloud, Viktor pulls the blanket closer to himself and lets him close his eyes for another minute.
---
“You’ve always been so stubborn. If you hadn’t been so obstinate, maybe you would have realized that this is what we both wanted. Why were you so stubborn?”
It didn’t matter anymore. Jayce would never be stubborn again. He would never be anything again, really.
Viktor leaves.
---
Jayce would bring him food at random. He would say that his mother made excess and that Viktor simply had to help him finish it off. Viktor had narrowed his eyes suspiciously at these claims made by a brightly smiling Jayce, but he soon began to grow a taste for Ximena Talis’ cooking. Viktor had never indulged in much, let alone food— a byproduct of growing up as a Zaunite near the fissures. Until now, he had often just grabbed whatever would sustain him for the day and consumed it without a second thought.
Jayce had vocalized his dissent to this approach vehemently, claiming that home cooked meals could revitalize the very soul. This kind of sentimental conjecture had sparked a debate between the two, but after Viktor had devoured the meal Jayce brought for him, he begrudgingly decided to put a pin in the debate.
What had truly surprised Viktor, however, was the day that Jayce had brought him a cake. It had been complete with icing and everything, small enough for the both of them to finish it off.
“Happy birthday, Viktor!” Jayce had exclaimed with a brilliant grin.
Birthday? He looked towards the calendar, frowning at the offending date in question.
He did recognize it. When he had signed up for the Academy, he had to provide his birth date for the legal documents. As was the case for many hailing from the Undercity, Viktor didn’t know when his birthday was. So, he had just chosen a random date and written it down on the Academy registration form.
“How did you know?” Viktor asked, astonished.
Jayce looked sheepish. “I, well. I may have pulled a few strings.”
Ah. So Jayce had pestered Professor Heimerdinger until had caved in.
What was the point in doing all of this, just to surprise Viktor on a day that would have normally passed with no fanfare? Before he could vocalize the question, Jayce had produced a single candle and a lighter, pushing him towards the table.
As the candle’s warmth flared to life, Jayce smiled. “Make a wish, V!”
Viktor blew out the candle, thinking that he hadn’t hoped for much in this life. But maybe if Jayce would celebrate his next so-called birthday with him, he would consider his wish fulfilled.
“What did you wish for?” Jayce said, a sly look in his eyes.
Viktor smiled. “If I tell you, it won’t come true, no?”
“I’m sure I could try to make it come true anyways,” Jayce said flippantly, as if the words didn’t make Viktor’s heart soar. The other man shakes his head. “How did you forget your own birthday anyways?”
Viktor shrugs. He doesn’t have the heart to tell Jayce that it was just some date that he had just written down in the spur of the moment. No, he rather liked the idea of celebrating this day now, if it meant Jayce would seek him out again next year.
(He also liked that Jayce had gifted him a birthday, even if he didn’t know it.)
“It’s fine,” Jayce said. “I’ll just have to remind you again next year.”
Viktor smiled at that. Jayce’s unpredictability, his chaos, his warmth— Viktor would be looking forward to it.
---
“I learned how to change weather patterns the other day,” Viktor mused. “I think you’d have found that interesting.”
He’s leaning against Jayce, hand curled around his shoulder. His remains are brittle, breaking apart now, just like his hammer. Viktor doesn’t dwell on how the thought of Jayce disintegrating like he was nothing but a footnote in his life lances a spear of pain through his being.
“You liked rainy days, remember? When it was cold outside, we’d be holed up in the lab together,” Viktor says, the words leaving him carelessly.
What he doesn’t say is that Jayce never needed an excuse if he wanted to spend time with Viktor. He would’ve followed Jayce anywhere, no matter the weather, back then.
---
Jayce was the city’s golden boy in every sense of the word.
Everyone was attracted to him, like he was a magnet and his brilliance was his pull. Viktor had no idea how the Piltovan council had once considered expelling him. Serves them right; now more than half of their infrastructure ran on designs credited to the Man of Progress himself.
Of course, Viktor had helped with those designs, which Jayce insisted on reminding people firmly whenever he was mistaken as his assistant. Viktor had never been fond of the spotlight, but it still warmed him whenever Jayce vehemently gave him credit.
At the galas and events, Jayce had the other councilors and investors wrapped around his fingers. He was exuberant in his speeches, simply riveting.
It’s why it was all the more surprising when he had confessed that Viktor was the first person that had truly believed in him. That Viktor was his first friend.
Viktor had blinked, shocked, unsure what to say. Could he confess that Jayce was his first real friend as well? Could he lament on how Pilties were fools for not appreciating Jayce even before he had hextech on his list of accomplishments?
“How could I not believe in you?” is what he ends up saying.
Jayce laughs, fond. “You say it like it’s easy.”
Viktor shrugged. It had been easy. He still remembers the way Jayce had presented his theory at his own trial, even knowing that it could mean his doom. He had been brave, convicted, and passionate. When Viktor had looked through his notebooks, it had been the most inspired writings he had ever seen before.
Even if Jayce had signed his name on every page.
“I may have been the first person to believe in you, but I won’t be the last. You’re the future of this city, Jayce. Though if I say more, I’m afraid I may grow that ego of yours,” he says, teasing. Jayce flushes to the tips of his ears.
Viktor grins. He loves it when that happens.
“We are,” Jayce says suddenly.
“Hmm?”
“We are the future of this city, V. You’re my partner. Everything that I’ve done wouldn’t have been possible without you. So it’s you and me.”
Viktor nods slowly. “You and me,” he echoed.
---
The anger that had taken root in him finally bursts into full bloom one day. He’s visiting Jayce when it happens, suddenly enraged by the paradox of his friend’s presence and gaping absence.
“If you had just asked, if you had listened, this could have been different. For all your imperfections and flaws, maybe you could’ve stayed!” Viktor seethes, before abruptly stopping.
What was he talking about? For all his flaws? The whole point of this, the whole point of everything was to eliminate flaws. Eliminate anything that would cause eventual strife and conflict.
But then, who was Jayce without his flaws? Without his stubbornness, his mistakes, his unyielding desire to do better despite failing again and again?
Could there even be a Jayce in a world without flaws?
Viktor shuts down that line of thought. It’s an impossibility, a blip in the manifestation of his desires.
He had brought the world peace. He would have to be content with that.
---
The impossibility doesn't leave his mind after that. It’s a byproduct of having endless time to think, he supposes.
Had Viktor ever been truly happy in his life? Or was he only happy after he had found his purpose with Jayce in pursuing their shared hextech dream? Hadn’t they been happy then?
It had all faded away the moments their paths had diverged. But the affection that had held them together was still there, burning bright. Even now, that affection refused to falter, no matter how much Viktor tried to deny it. No matter how angry he got.
He walks amongst the husks of his followers, the people he had promised a painless, greater future. He feels nothing. Sometimes they twitched towards him with barely-there creak, like they were trying to feed off his magic. Maybe they were just lonely and wanted to provide him with some company. The thought is a fantastical, whimsical one. Such thoughts didn’t belong in this realm that Viktor had constructed.
When his anger fades away, all that’s left is clarity.
Viktor had thought he had wanted to end the world’s suffering. Instead, he had created these fields of dreamless solitude. There was no more pursuit in the face of this perfection.
There would be no more brilliant minds with dreams, no more laughter, no more wanting.
Who was Viktor if not someone who had wanted to pursue a dream? Someone who had fought and struggled with every atom of his being to exist, to live, to breathe? Whether it was his hextech dream with Jayce, his dream of making things right for the citizens of the Undercity, or even his dream of making it past thirty— all of these had defined him. If there were no more dreams, then who was he?
Had Viktor destroyed himself and everything around him in the pursuit of this non-existent perfection?
Maybe this was what Jayce had been trying to show him all along. Jayce, who had held onto him while he was dying, refusing to give up on him. Jayce, who had treated him like an equal despite all his bodies’ mortal shortcomings. Jayce, who had tried to kill him in the end.
All roads lead back to Jayce.
The realization settles in him like a comforting blanket around his shoulders rather than the devastating blow that it should be.
---
It has been ages, it has been eons. He doesn’t keep track anymore.
He had started planting flowers for Jayce. He had thought the other man would appreciate the simple beauty of nature. It had become a routine, tending the growing garden every day. Though he doesn’t know how much time has passed, Viktor is now surrounded by a bright field of colors that swayed with the wind.
The flowers were the only things unmarred (and when did he start to think of it as marring?) by the unnatural vibrance of the Hexcore. They bloom beautifully, pure and wonderful and alive.
Viktor is next to what remained of Jayce, his immobile husk kneeling resolutely in the midst of the field of flowers. He blinks as a slight movement catches his eyes: a butterfly lands on Jayce’s shoulder.
Clarity filters into Viktor like a breath of fresh air. He knows what he must do.
He walks one last time through his ocean of empty, lifeless followers. Yes, there is no pain, but there is also no passion. There is no spark, no life. Who would Viktor have been if not for the spark of inspiration that he got from his life’s work? From building, from experimenting, from creating? He had thought he had been fixing things, but instead he had created a wasteland that no one benefited from. He sees it so clearly now.
When Viktor has had his fill of the unmoving, static scenery, he turns around. He returns to where it all ended.
---
Viktor sits next to Jayce, leaning against him.
“You’re probably tired of hearing me talk,” Viktor says lightheartedly, “I’ve said a lot of things to you. Confusing things, contradictory things, I’m sure. So I’ll be succinct.”
He takes a breath. “You gave me a dream. Even if that dream led us to ruin, it was warm and bright and fun while it lasted. You were my first true friend. But more than that, you gave me a home, Jayce. Piltover never truly felt like it was mine, but our lab? Those moments we would share when the world felt like it was just the two of us? I wouldn’t trade those for anything.”
Except he did. He traded it all for this poor facsimile of paradise. Oh, and what he would do to take it all back.
“I thought that maybe I could be your salvation this time. I thought I could save everyone. But, it turns out you’re still saving me. You saved me in more ways than you know. You always did. Did you ever know that?”
Viktor shakes his head. It’s not long now. He can feel it in his bones, the very fabric of his reality, that this world is not long for him, not if he has anything to say about it.
“I’ll see you soon,” he whispers.
---
In the eye of the snowstorm, he feels calm. It’s a type of calm that comes after making a long-awaited decision. As Viktor spirits the storm away and unleashes a field of bright, vibrant flowers using the arcane, it feels familiar. In every timeline, in every possibility, this is the best choice he’s ever made.
He turns around, and the breath is knocked from his chest at the sight.
Jayce, impossibly small and young, was bundled up in a thick jacket that made him look even tinier. Looking at him now from under his hood, Viktor is stricken by how easily he had taken everything away from his Jayce. How one day, this wonderful boy full of life would become a lifeless husk that would never know what it was to feel or discover again, all because of Viktor. He would never look at anyone again with those wide, trusting eyes full of hope. He would never have dreamt again.
Viktor had done that. He would never forgive himself for it.
He approaches the boy who watches his every step raptly. Jayce slowly holds out his hands and Viktor feels another pang at the utter awe and amazement in his eyes, before dropping the rune into his outstretched palms.
Jayce smiles at him, his small cheeks flushed red from the cold, and Viktor’s heart clenches painfully. At the same time, hope begins to blossom from within him.
He has faith that Jayce will come to save him in this timeline, in every timeline. No, he knows that Jayce will not fail. Because Jayce has always understood him.
A part of him feels guilt for placing this burden on his dearest friend. But another part of him knows that Jayce will understand this too.
---
When he blinks back to his reality, he’s standing in that garden once more. He hears a noise pierce through the placid overarching silence. He turns around to see Jayce, trudging up the hill.
He’s hurt, in pain, and there’s a wild look in his eyes. His hair has grown and his leg— oh, but he’s alive, alive, alive. Looking at him now, it’s so clear that what lies at the sublime intersection of order and chaos is all him.
Viktor smiles, a gesture he thought he had long forgotten. He waits for his salvation.