Chapter Text
The moment Jayce touched the arcane, his world collapsed into a phantasmagoria of sensations. He could feel himself being stretched, as though every atom in his body was pulled in a different direction. A nauseating whirl of colors and shapes spun around him, faster and faster, until up and down lost all meaning. He tried to scream, but his voice was swallowed by the maelstrom before it even left his throat.
Pain followed, sharp and searing, then dull and aching. It wasn’t localized; it was everywhere. His skin burned as though he’d been flayed, and his muscles screamed as though they were being wrung dry. His bones ached deep, the marrow boiling in protest against forces they were never meant to endure.
Jayce clenched his eyes shut, but that was no refuge. The rift seemed to claw its way into his mind, dragging up forgotten memories, half-formed fears, and impossible visions. He couldn’t tell anymore. He reached out instinctively, searching for something, anything to ground him, but his hands grasped at nothing.
Just when he thought he might dissolve entirely, the world around him stopped moving.
Jayce woke with a jolt, his heart racing in his chest and his heaving breathing breaking the silence.
There was no sterile, mechanical hum of the Hextech chamber or the low crackle of arcane energy. This silence was warm and soft, almost serene. It pressed against his ears like a weighted blanket, calming and unnerving all at once.
He blinked against the brightness flooding his vision. Where was he?
Jayce pushed himself upright, the ache in his back telling him he’d been slumped over something hard…a desk? His hands grazed smooth metal as he stood, his legs unsteady beneath him. The lab around him was his own, only filled with unfamiliar innovations.
Hextech crystals illuminated the space, casting a soft blue glow over the pristine countertops and sleek tools. The walls, a shade too warm for Piltover’s usual cold steel, were lined with neatly organized shelves of books, journals, and prototypes.
Then his eyes fell on the scattered blueprints. He froze.
The diagrams bore Viktor’s handwriting.
He reached for one, his chest tightening as he ran a hand over the precise lines and annotations. It was Viktor’s work, undoubtedly his, but there was something different about it. Something... lighter. No frantic scrawls in the margins, no signs of hasty corrections or smeared ink from late nights without sleep.
“Viktor?” Jayce called out instinctively, his voice cracking. The silence swallowed his words.
A pang of guilt stabbed through Jayce’s chest, sharp and unrelenting. His last memory of Viktor burned in his mind; draped in a thin blanket, his frame frail but his resolve unyielding, as he declared their partnership over and walked away without looking back. That image haunted him, a silent accusation of all the things Jayce had left unsaid. He never wanted any of this to happen. Viktor had to know. He had to understand. Jayce never meant to hurt him, not once. Everything he did, every invention, every breakthrough, every compromise… it was for the betterment of Piltover.
Everything but that one act. That one moment of desperation, where the lines blurred and the calculations no longer mattered. When saving Viktor became the only outcome Jayce could accept.
To Jayce, the world without Viktor was unthinkable. It wasn’t a matter of choice or circumstance, it was a simple fact. Without Viktor’s brilliance, his vision, his unyielding drive, the future would be lesser. Piltover would be lesser. Viktor wasn’t just a piece of the city’s progress; he was its heart, its spark. And for all his flaws, for all their differences, Jayce knew the truth of it as surely as he knew his own heartbeat: the world was better with Viktor in it.
He had sacrificed everything. His principles, his partnerships, his reputation. It had not been just for Piltover, but for Viktor. And though the guilt weighed heavy, threatening to crush him under its weight, there was one thing Jayce could never bring himself to regret.
For Jayce, saving Viktor was never a choice. As Jayce was bound to the betterment of Piltover and Piltover was better with Viktor in it.
Jayce’s stomach twisted as he stepped further into the lab. The air smelled faintly of oil and ozone, tinged with a faint sweetness he couldn’t place. He traced his fingers along the edge of a table, pausing when he saw a photograph framed neatly on one of the shelves.
It was a picture of himself and Viktor.
One he has no recollection of taking.
They stood side by side, smiling, arms slung around each other’s shoulders. Viktor’s face was fuller, his posture relaxed, he even looked happy. Jayce barely recognized the man beside him, but the sight made his throat tighten. It took him a moment to process his own appearance within the photo. He had a neatly trimmed beard, longer than he normally allowed of himself. His hair was less tidy and fell messily around his eyes. With a sinking feeling, Jayce reached up and threaded his fingers through messy hair and felt his chin for a beard. His fears were immediately confirmed.
“What the hell is going on?” Jayce whispered, setting the photo back down with trembling hands.
The door to the lab creaked open. Jayce spun around, heart pounding, but the figure that stepped inside wasn’t Viktor. It was a teenager who was tall, with braided hair and a face clean of its signature white face paint.
“Ekko?” Jayce asked, his confusion deepening.
Ekko stopped in his tracks, staring at him with wide eyes. “Jayce?”
They stared at each other, both visibly shaken. Ekko was clutching a notebook tightly at his side. Jayce noted that the young man had more differences than his hair and lack of paint. He looked healthier, not as exhausted as when Jayce had met him earlier.
“Tell me you know where we are,” Ekko said, his voice edged with desperation. His stiffly walked the rest of the way into the lab, shutting the door firmly behind him.
Jayce swallowed hard. “I…don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The younger man let out a frustrated groan, slamming the notebook down in front of Jayce. Jayce glances down, startled by the sudden action but curious, nonetheless. In bold letters was written Ekko’s name followed by his title, Apprentice to Jayce Talis.
“Let’s start with the obvious,” Ekko said, leaning back against one of the lab tables, his arms crossed. His eyes flicked over the unfamiliar lab with a mix of suspicion and wonder. “This ain’t our Piltover.”
Jayce let out a humorless laugh, still gripping the edge of the table to steady himself. “Yeah, that much is obvious.”
Jayce glanced at Ekko, noting the tension in his stance. Ekko’s presence was a small comfort as he was someone familiar in this strange world but it still didn’t make sense.
“No use thinking that this is some shared dream, huh?” Ekko muttered, though his tone lacked any real humor.
Jayce shook his head. “No. This feels real.” He gestured to the room around them. “Too real. But everything’s... off. It’s like—”
“—like something patched over all the cracks,” Ekko finished, his voice quiet. He looked around the lab again, his gaze lingering on the shelves of blueprints. “But patched it too well. Nothing’s ever this perfect.”
“The arcane must’ve created a temporal rift that displaced our consciousnesses into some type of alternate reality,” Jayce was immediately flying into action, grabbing papers and a pen as he started to jot down calculations.
“So,” Ekko’s voice was closer due to how he was hovering over Jayce’s shoulder, “how did you immediately figure that out?”
Jayce opened his mouth to respond, but the words died on his tongue as the lab door opened again.
He turned sharply, half-expecting Viktor but instead, a woman entered. She had Zaunite tattoos curling up her arms and wore an easy smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Hey, Jayce,” she said casually, giving Ekko a nod.
“Uh...” Jayce floundered, glancing at Ekko for help.
Ekko, to his credit, didn’t miss a beat. “Jayce was helping me understand some calculations that were giving me trouble,” he said, straightening up while discreetly moving the papers into a more hidden spot. He tilted his head at Jayce. “Didn’t know you two knew each other.”
The woman laughed, a low, warm sound. “Nice one Ekko.” Her attention turned towards Jayce, “Well, Viktor’s looking for you. You better not be slacking, or he’ll start another one of his rants about council politics.”
For a split second, the floor felt like it fell from underneath him and his heart skipped a beat at the mention of Viktor’s name. “Right. Of course. I’ll, uh... I’ll find him.”
“Good luck,” she said, tossing a mock salute as she left.
The moment the door closed, Jayce turned to Ekko. “We need to figure out what’s going on here. Fast.”
“No kidding,” Ekko replied. “But first...” He gestured at Jayce. “Viktor’s looking for you. Think you should find out why your buddy’s all buddy-buddy with you in this weird place?”
Jayce hesitated. The thought of seeing Viktor—this Viktor… made his chest tighten. But Ekko was right. If they wanted answers, Viktor was the place to start.
“Yeah,” he said finally. “Let’s go.”
Ekko smirked. “Don’t look so nervous. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Jayce didn’t respond. He had a sinking feeling he was about to find out.
The hallways of the building felt surreal, and Jayce wasn’t entirely sure why. Everything looked right. high ceilings, polished stone floors, a mix of industrial Zaunite aesthetics and Piltover’s sleek design. Yet there was a wrongness lurking underneath, like a melody slightly out of tune.
Ekko walked a step ahead of him, his eyes darting to every shadow, every flicker of movement. Jayce wasn’t sure if the younger man trusted him or simply had no other option.
“Do you even know where we’re going?” Ekko asked, glancing back.
Jayce frowned, glancing at the notes he’d grabbed from Viktor’s desk. The handwriting was clean and familiar, but the context was bizarre: calculations and blueprints for devices that didn’t exist in their world. At least, not yet. “Viktor usually works somewhere close to his lab. He doesn’t like being far from his tools.”
Ekko rolled his eyes. “Great. So we’re guessing.”
Jayce ignored him, scanning the corridors for any sign of Viktor.
The answer came faster than expected. A door ahead swung open, and a familiar figure stepped into the hallway. Viktor.
As Jayce expected… it wasn’t his Viktor.
This Viktor stood taller than Jayce had ever seen him, his spine straight as if the weight of the world had finally lifted. The cane remained, but it was no longer a crutch and now just a tool, held with casual ease rather than weary necessity. His clothes were crisp, tailored, free of the disheveled urgency Jayce had come to associate with him. No hastily buttoned coats, no worn edges.
And his face.
Jayce’s breath caught. The hollowness was gone, the sunken cheeks and shadowed eyes replaced by vitality. Viktor’s skin had a warmth to it, a flush of life Jayce hadn’t seen in years. His eyes, once dulled by exhaustion and sickness, were sharp and steady, filled with clarity and something even more jarring: peace. The dark circles, the etched lines of pain and overwork had vanished, leaving behind a man Jayce barely recognized.
Most strikingly, there was no sign of the hexcore’s insidious grip. No glint of machinery crawling under his skin, no shadow of infection creeping through his veins. This was Viktor, whole and untainted. Alive.
“Jayce.” Viktor’s voice was warm, carrying a quiet strength that sent a jolt through him. A faint smile tugged at his lips, one so effortless it felt like a stranger’s. “I was beginning to wonder when you’d show up.”
Jayce froze, every instinct telling him this couldn’t be real. “Viktor?” His voice cracked on the name, disbelief choking him.
Viktor tilted his head, a spark of amusement lighting his eyes. “Who else would it be?”
Before Jayce could form a response, Viktor closed the distance between them with practiced ease. His hand clasped Jayce’s arm in a gesture so familiar, so achingly normal, it left him reeling.
“You were supposed to meet me in the East Wing,” Viktor said, his tone light, teasing. “Don’t tell me you got distracted again.”
The words twisted something deep inside Jayce. He stared at the man before him, his mind scrambling to reconcile the Viktor he knew with the one standing here. For a moment, all he could do was struggle to breathe against the crushing weight of hope and confusion battling in his chest.
Jayce’s mouth opened, but no words came out.
Ekko cleared his throat loudly, breaking the moment. Viktor’s gaze flicked to him, his brows furrowing slightly. “Ekko? What are you doing in the lab on a Tuesday?”
“Uh,” Jayce stammered. “He was needing my help with a calculation error.”
Viktor frowned for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Right. Well, I hope you told Powder this beforehand so I don’t hear about you skipping out again.”
“I—what?” Ekko said, blinking. Jayce watched the younger man completely loose his collected composure. Something that Viktor said struck a chord with him, “Powder?”
Viktor chuckled with a soft shake of his head, stepping back and gesturing down the hallway. “Come Jayce. We have work to do.”
Jayce followed numbly, his thoughts spinning. Ekko shot him a wary glance but didn’t say anything, his mind seemingly stuck on what Viktor had mentioned.
As they walked, Jayce couldn’t help but notice the way Viktor moved, smooth and confident, as if the weight he carried in their world had been lifted. The sight filled Jayce with a confusing mix of emotions: relief, confusion, and something close to longing.
What he would give to see his Viktor this free.
They reached another lab, and Viktor pushed open the door. Inside, the space was a masterpiece of elegance and function. Machines purred softly in perfect harmony, their designs sleek and purposeful. Crystals bathed the room in a warm, ethereal glow, casting shifting patterns on the pristine walls. The air felt lighter here, like stepping into a sanctuary where science and art intertwined.
But none of that held Jayce’s attention.
His eyes were drawn to a photograph hanging on the wall, framed and displayed with care. It was impossible to miss, standing out amidst the precision of the lab.
Jayce stepped closer, his breath catching as he took in the image. It was a candid shot of him and Viktor. They were seated side by side, caught mid-conversation during some kind of celebration.
Viktor was smiling. Not the faint curve of his lips Jayce remembered, but a full, unguarded smile that made his eyes sparkle with mischief. Jayce could almost hear the clever remark that had preceded it, the teasing wit Viktor wielded so effortlessly when he was in his element. That look, that vitality, was so rare it felt almost foreign.
Jayce forced himself to look past Viktor and froze when he saw his own face in the photo.
He wasn’t looking at the celebration or the crowd beyond them. His focus was entirely, unflinchingly on Viktor. His expression was soft, almost reverent, his posture leaning closer than he would have ever thought appropriate for lab partners. Jayce had always told himself their bond was forged from shared ambition and trust, but the way he looked at Viktor in that photo suggested something deeper.
His heart clenched.
Jayce stared at the picture, his chest tightening. “Viktor... what is this place?”
Viktor gave him an odd look. “Jayce? Are you feeling all right?”
Jayce didn’t answer. He couldn’t.
Jayce’s mind reeled as Viktor guided him and Ekko deeper into the lab. Every detail in the room was an eerie combination of the familiar and the impossible. Viktor’s signature precision was everywhere but the designs were leagues beyond anything Jayce had ever seen.
It felt like a version of their shared dreams that had grown unchecked, untethered from the compromises they’d had to make back in their Piltover.
“So,” Viktor began, interrupting Jayce’s spiraling thoughts, “are you going to tell me what’s really going on?”
Jayce froze. Viktor’s tone was still warm, but there was a knowing edge to it. His golden-brown eyes darted between him and Ekko, sharp and calculating. This was Viktor at his most focused, a version Jayce both admired and feared.
“What do you mean?” Jayce asked, trying to sound casual.
Viktor’s smile tightened. “You’ve been... off since you got here. Not to mention bringing Ekko along unannounced.” He turned to Ekko, his brow lifting slightly. “No offense, of course. It’s just unusual.”
“Uh-huh,” Ekko said, crossing his arms. “None taken.”
Jayce scrambled to cover the tension. “It’s been a long day,” he said, gesturing vaguely toward the glowing machines. “What are you working on, anyway? This... it’s incredible.”
Viktor tilted his head, as if debating whether to press the issue. Finally, he relented, gesturing to a sleek console nearby. “It’s the new prototype. You’d know that if you’d been paying attention.”
Jayce stepped forward automatically, pretending to examine the work while his mind raced.
The way Viktor was looking at him wasn’t the strained, guarded gaze Jayce had grown used to. It was open, fond.
“How far did you push the crystal stabilization?” Jayce asked, desperate to sound normal.
“Far enough,” Viktor said with a small smirk. “We’re presenting it to the council next week, remember?”
Jayce froze again. “The council?”
“Yes, Jayce,” Viktor said, the teasing tone returning. “The people you’re so fond of charming. I assume you haven’t forgotten about the council, at least?”
Jayce forced a laugh. “Of course not. Just... distracted, like you said.”
Ekko shot him a look from across the room, one that screamed, What are you doing?
“So,” Viktor continued, walking over to a nearby table and picking up a small metal device. “You’ve dodged my question. What’s really going on?”
Before Jayce could respond, Ekko cut in. “He’s tired. That’s all. Give the guy a break.”
Viktor blinked, clearly surprised by Ekko’s sudden defense. “Okay, I know when to back off,” he said lightly.
Jayce tried to redirect the conversation. “We were actually hoping to take a walk around the city. Clear our heads. Maybe you can fill me in later on the council presentation?”
Viktor’s frown deepened, but he nodded despite his calculating gaze remaining. “All right. But don’t take too long. You’ve been looking forward to this for weeks.”
Jayce managed a stiff smile despite his heart clenching at the thought of putting that frown on his face. “Right. Thanks, Vik.”
As they left the lab, Ekko leaned in close. “This is so messed up,” he muttered.
“You think I don’t know that?” Jayce whispered back harshly.
The hallway stretched ahead of them, quiet and impossibly clean. Jayce’s thoughts churned, looping endlessly back to Viktor’s face. The way he’d smiled at him. The easy affection in his voice.
And the photo on the wall.
Ekko’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Okay, we’re out. Now what?”
Jayce exhaled, trying to steady himself. “We figure out what’s going on here. And how to get back.”
Ekko snorted. “Yeah, sure. Easy.”
They walked in silence for a moment, their footsteps echoing faintly.
Finally, Ekko broke it. “So, uh... you and Viktor. What’s the deal there?”
Jayce nearly stumbled.. “What? There’s no... deal.”
Ekko raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing. “Uh-huh. You sure about that? ’Cause the way he was looking at you? Real friendly, if you ask me.”
Jayce felt his face heat, a mix of embarrassment and frustration bubbling up. “It’s not— it’s complicated.”
“Complicated,” Ekko repeated with a chuckle, his grin widening. “Man, you’ve got a whole lot of ‘complicated’ in your life, don’t you?”
Jayce clenched his jaw, the teasing striking a nerve he hadn’t realized was raw. “Well what about you freezing up at what he said?” Jayce felt childish bringing it up but thinking about Viktor always seemed to drag out the worst kind of defensiveness in him, like he had to protect something he barely understood himself.
The shift in Ekko was immediate. The humor drained from his expression, replaced by a cold, guarded edge that felt out of place on his youthful face. His posture stiffened, his voice dropping into a sharp, cutting tone. “Shut up,” he said, his words brittle and final.
Jayce flinched at the sudden change, guilt twisting in his gut. He’d pushed too far, crossed a line he hadn’t meant to.
Ekko’s gaze was hard, his expression a mask of indifference that didn’t match the softness Jayce had glimpsed in this other version of the boy. “You don’t know shit,” Ekko said quietly, his voice laced with ice.
Jayce opened his mouth to apologize, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, the silence stretched between them, heavy and uncomfortable, as they walked forward, each lost in their own storm of thoughts.
*
The city was lively.
Jayce and Ekko walked side by side through the streets, their footsteps muffled by the chaos of booming businesses. The towering spires gleamed, their glass and steel facades reflecting a flawless blue sky. Hextech lights hovered at perfect intervals, casting a warm glowing light without the faintest flicker
“This place gives me the creeps,” Ekko muttered, his eyes darting to the storefronts. The people inside were smiling, chatting, browsing wares like they didn’t have a care in the world. “No way this is real. Nobody’s this... happy.”
Jayce didn’t reply immediately, his gaze fixed on the horizon. The familiar divide between Piltover and Zaun was gone. No smog, no rickety bridges, no oppressive weight of inequality. The transition between the two cities was seamless, as if the rift had never existed.
“It’s like... Piltover and Zaun have never been divided,” Jayce said finally, his voice low.
Ekko glanced at him. “And left what? A dollhouse version of Piltover?”
Jayce nodded absently. “Maybe.”
They turned a corner and found themselves in a bustling square. A market was in full swing, with stalls selling everything from Hextech gadgets to fresh produce. It was... idyllic. Too idyllic.
“Hey, Jayce!”
The voice snapped him out of his daze. He turned to see another familiar face: Caitlyn, her sharp Piltover uniform replaced with something casual. She looked almost unrecognizable. She was relaxed, smiling, her dark hair loose around her shoulders.
He felt Ekko stiffen next to him
“Caitlyn?” Jayce asked, his voice shaky.
She strode toward them, her expression lighting up with genuine delight. “I thought I might run into you today. Viktor said you’d be out clearing your head. And Ekko! What a surprise.”
Jayce swallowed hard, trying to gauge her demeanor. She looked at him like they’d known each other forever but her smile faltered slightly as she glanced at Ekko.
“Isn’t it Tuesday? Powder is going to give you hell over skipping out on her,” Caitlyn said, her tone casual but probing.
Ekko threw his hands up in exasperation before angerly stomping off towards one of the booths.
Jayce and Caitlyn watched him go, the tension hanging in the air for a moment before she turned back to him with a raised eyebrow. Jayce shrugged; the motion awkward as he gestured for her to walk with him.
“So… how’s everything?” Jayce asked, his words careful, almost hesitant. He didn’t know where they stood in this world and whether she was an ally, a stranger, or something else entirely.
Caitlyn let out a long-suffering sigh, stretching her arms over her head as they walked. “Vi’s been swamped at the bar lately, and you’ve been locked away in that lab of yours. I’m starting to feel like I’m talking to walls.” She glanced at him with a small grin. “And Mother’s decided she needs to monitor every aspect of my life, so I can’t even enjoy being lonely in peace.”
Jayce feels a small amount of relief at her words, silently grateful that her life is mundane despite Vi being firmly in it.
“Sounds like the world’s still spinning as it should,” he said lightly, his relief hidden behind the quip.
“Barely,” she replied, though there was a playful lilt to her voice. She sighed, signaling their short meeting coming to an end. “Well, don’t stay out too long. The council’s meeting tonight, and you don’t want to miss it.”
“Right,” Jayce said, nodding stiffly. “Thanks for the reminder.”
“And seriously, we all need to schedule a double date or something before I genuinely lose it.”
She gave them a small wave and headed back toward the market, leaving Jayce standing rooted where he was in pure shock. The memory of the photo flashing in his mind. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. The way he had looked at Viktor. It was too personal, too real.
Yet Jayce can’t wrap his head around it.
“So, what now? ”Ekko returns with a long corndog in hand, a bite already taken off the top of it.
Jayce took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “The council meeting. It seems like a big one this time, important to this worlds Jayce and Viktor and I don’t want to ruin it for them.”
Ekko’s expression darkened. “You want to walk into a room full of Piltover bigwigs and hope you just know what’s going on?”
Jayce managed a faint smile. “Do you have a better idea?”
Ekko sighed, taking another bite of his corndog. “Not yet. But don’t expect me to play nice.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Jayce said, though his chest tightened at the thought of facing whatever version of himself this world expected.
*
Jayce and Ekko entered the council chamber, the sight overwhelming Jayce with an eerie sense of déjà vu. It was grander than the chamber he knew with its vaulted ceilings that were higher, its gold-and-marble accents more opulent. The Hextech crystals lining the walls pulsed softly, casting a glow that made the room feel alive.
The council chamber was already filled, the councilors seated in their usual places, their faces a tapestry of recognition and polite curiosity as Jayce stepped forward. He froze for a heartbeat, his gaze locking onto Cassandra, Bolbok, and Hoskel, alive and whole, mingling with the others as though nothing were out of place.
It hit him like a hammer to the chest. Something so ordinary like councilors at work, voices low in casual conversation was enough to stop him in his tracks. His mind betrayed him, flashing back to that day. The memory struck unbidden, raw and vivid: the chamber in ruins, smoke curling through the shattered room. Bolbok’s stoic presence reduced to silence, Cassandra’s commanding voice extinguished, Hoskel’s random comments never to be heard again.
And Viktor.
Jayce could still see him, lying in the rubble amidst the wreckage of their choices, pale and motionless as the fires burned around them. The weight of that day crushed down on him anew, each detail etched into his memory with brutal clarity.
But here they were. The counselors, alive and whole, speaking in tones of practiced diplomacy.
Jayce’s breath caught in his throat, and his hands clenched at his sides. He stood in the same room that had once been a tomb, its gleaming walls a cruel reminder that while he had walked away unscathed, the same could not be said for others. For Viktor. For them.
Jayce couldn’t help but notice Mel’s absence, and a quiet yearning stirred within him. It wasn’t the pang of romantic longing he might have once felt but rather it was something deeper. Mel had recently been his anchor, someone who could steady him when everything else felt uncertain.
He realized now that what he missed wasn’t tied to the passion they’d once shared, but to the unshakable strength she brought into his life. As close as he felt to Viktor, his feelings for the man were tangled and unpredictable, a storm of unresolved emotions. But Mel… Mel had always been distinctly in his corner, a force of unwavering support and clarity.
He could really use a friendly face right about now.
Jayce only has a moment to wonder if Mel has also gotten a happier timeline, perhaps never having been exiled to Piltover.
Ekko shifted uneasily beside him. “This place feels fake as hell,” he whispered.
Jayce gritted his teeth. “Just... follow my lead.”
Cassandra stood. “Councilor Talis,” she said warmly. “Right on time.” Her gaze flicked to Ekko, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “And you’ve brought your apprentice. How delightful.”
Jayce cleared his throat. “Apologies for the surprise. I thought it might be useful for him to... see how we operate.”
Ekko shot him a sharp look, but Jayce ignored it, focusing instead on the curious gazes of the other councilors.
“Well,” the woman said, motioning for them to take their seats, “it’s good that you’re here. Viktor has been quite eager to present his updates. I assume you’ve both coordinated on the details?”
Jayce stiffened. “Of course.”
Cassandra nodded and gestured toward the far end of the room. Jayce’s heart skipped as Viktor stepped into view, carrying a small device that glimmered with the unmistakable light of Hextech.
Viktor’s presence commanded the room in a way Jayce had never seen before. He walked with quiet confidence, his cane tapping lightly against the floor, his expression calm but focused. He looked... happy.
“Good evening,” Viktor said, his accent warm and familiar, yet somehow softer. He looked directly at Jayce and offered a small smile. “Shall we begin?”
Jayce nodded mutely, his palms damp with sweat.
Viktor placed the device on the table and began explaining its function. It was a compact stabilizer for Hextech energy that could revolutionize both Piltover and Zaun. His voice was steady, filled with conviction, and the councilors hung on his every word.
Ekko leaned toward Jayce, his voice barely a whisper. “This guy’s running the room. Since when does Viktor do that?”
Jayce didn’t respond. He was too focused on Viktor’s every word, every gesture. This wasn’t the same man he’d left behind in their world. That man was one whose body was slowly failing, whose brilliance was often overlooked by the council. This Viktor was thriving.
“Jayce?” Viktor’s voice cut through his thoughts.
Jayce blinked. “Yes?”
Viktor’s brow furrowed slightly. “Your input on the stabilizer design? We discussed it last week.”
Jayce scrambled for an answer, his mind blank. “It’s, uh... solid. Excellent work as always, Viktor.”
Viktor’s eyes narrowed, just for a moment. Then he nodded and turned back to the council, seamlessly continuing his presentation.
Ekko gave Jayce a skeptical look. “Smooth,” he muttered under his breath.
The presentation ended with a polite round of applause; the sound muffled in Jayce’s ears as he watched Viktor step aside to let the councilors deliberate. The room fractured into clusters of quiet conversation, but Jayce remained rooted, his thoughts a tangled mess.
He didn’t notice Viktor approach until he was standing directly in front of him, his expression carefully neutral but his eyes betraying something deeper.
“‘Solid? Excellent work as always?’” Viktor repeated softly, his voice low but heavy with disappointment. “Jayce…” He paused, as though searching for the right words. Despite the hurt flickering across his face, Viktor kept his gaze steady, furrowing his brow as he lightly rested a hand on Jayce’s bicep. “Something is wrong. Why won’t you let me help you? “
The touch burned but not painfully, only with an intensity that made Jayce’s heart twist. He swallowed hard, the weight of Viktor’s concern pressing down on him. “I’m sorry, Vik,” he managed, his voice strained. “I’m just… overwhelmed. That’s all.”
Viktor studied him, his sharp gaze cutting through the feeble excuse. For a moment, Jayce thought he might push further, but instead, Viktor sighed softly. “You always push yourself too hard,” he said, his tone carrying equal parts admiration and frustration.
The hand on Jayce’s bicep slid down slowly, deliberate, before coming to rest on his forearm. And then, almost without thought, Viktor’s fingers intertwined with his.
Jayce froze, his breath catching as he stared down at their joined hands. Viktor’s grip was firm but not forceful, steadying in a way Jayce hadn’t realized he needed. Jayce stared down at their interlocking fingers, shocked at how something so foreign could feel so correct. Viktor’s hand fit in his as though it had always belonged there, and Jayce couldn’t help but marvel at how such a simple gesture could upend him entirely. Viktor’s hand was made to fit with Jayce’s, this he was sure.
Jayce’s chest tightened at the familiar concern in Viktor’s voice. It was too much, too real. He opened his mouth to respond, but Ekko’s voice cut in.
“Hey, uh, mind if I borrow Jayce for a minute?” Ekko said, stepping next to them. He grinned awkwardly. “Council stuff’s not really my thing.”
Viktor raised an eyebrow but stepped back, separating them. Jayce felt a faint brush of a hand across his lower back as the man moved away. He looked perfectly normal however Jayce knew his science partner and it was apparent that the man was annoyed by the intrusion. “Of course. Don’t wander too far, Jayce.”
Jayce nodded, barely managing to keep his composure as Ekko dragged him toward the exit.
“Okay, what the hell was that?” Ekko asked once they were out of earshot.
Jayce exhaled shakily, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice unsteady. “This is going to be a lot harder than I thought.”
Ekko frowned, his gaze softening slightly. “You’re all twisted up over him, aren’t you?”
Jayce looked away, his jaw tightening. “It’s not that simple.” Jayce couldn’t bring his voice to raise above a whisper, “My Viktor has never looked at- the Viktor from our reality has other things to worry about then…” Jayce trailed off, shaking his head as if to clear the thought. “It’s not something I can let myself entertain. Not that I ever would.”
Ekko’s gaze softened, the fire in his expression dimming into something more thoughtful. “Yeah,” he murmured after a moment, his tone quieter, almost wistful. “It never is, is it?”
Jayce glanced at him, surprised by the note of understanding in his voice. Ekko wasn’t teasing now; there was something in his eyes that spoke of his own unspoken ache, his own experience with feelings that shouldn't be acted on.
The silence stretched between them, heavy but not uncomfortable, both of them lost in their own thoughts.
Jayce broke it first, his voice firmer this time. “We need to figure out how to get home.”
Ekko nodded, but his reply came with a wry smirk. “Sure. But maybe don’t clue Viktor in on that plan just yet. Seems like he’s pretty invested in you staying right here.”
Jayce’s chest tightened at the thought, his mind replaying the way Viktor had looked at him all steady, searching, and far too knowing. He felt an ache that was equal parts yearning and guilt. He couldn’t stay, but leaving suddenly felt far more complicated than he was ready to admit.
“I’m not who he wants.”
*
*
Ekko was restless.
Jayce had convinced him to stay close to the council chambers, but every polished surface, every pristine corner of this strange Piltover made his skin crawl. He’d spent too much of his life navigating the grimy underbelly of Zaun, where every cracked pipe and rusted gear told a story. This world felt like a pretty picture with no substance beneath.
While Jayce wandered off to check some records or talk to someone, Ekko prowled the hallways. The ornate architecture was painfully symmetrical, the gleaming Hextech fixtures buzzing softly with a perfection that grated on his nerves.
His boots scuffed against the floor as he wandered through the winding corridors, a strange weight pulling at his chest. It wasn’t his world but the familiarity of it all made his skin crawl. His steps faltered as he passed a small workshop tucked into a side corridor, muffled laughter drifting out through the slightly ajar door.
Sharp. Familiar.
His heart felt like it stopped beating in his chest.
His breath hitched. It couldn’t be.
Ekko edged closer, his pulse hammering in his ears as he peeked through the opening. Inside, a girl perched on a stool, her back to him. Her chopped, powder-blue hair was wild as ever, a pair of goggles pushed up on her forehead. Her hands moved deftly over a mess of gears and wires, smudged with soot, her laughter echoing softly in the small space.
Jinx.
Ekko’s breath caught, his grip tightening on the doorframe and his hackles raised. For a moment, he forgot this wasn’t his world.
She leaned back, examining her work with a triumphant grin. “Ha! Told you it’d work.”
Ekko’s stomach twisted as Viktor’s voice drifted from the corner. “Impressive, as always, Powder. But you’ll need to calibrate the output before testing it on a live system. Remember what happened last time?”
Powder.
Ekko felt his breath leave him all at once in a punched-out breath. This is Powder. A Powder that hasn’t fallen to grief or madness. A Powder that Ekko has yearned to return to him over the years growing up alone. He had lost everyone that fateful night. Benzo, Vander, Vi, Milo, Claggor. Powder. She was the only person he had left and yet she had been twisted against him and into Silco’s puppet. The girl he’d known, the girl he’d spent his childhood dreaming of saving like a knight from one of those stories. Her name alone felt reverent, something he shouldn’t let himself think unless he wanted to wallow in pity and spite.
She was here though, in Viktors lab as though nothing traumatic has ever befallen her.
Ekko felt like he was standing on the edge of something fragile, something sacred. Powder groaned dramatically, dragging him out of his spiraling thoughts.
“Oh, come on,” she said, waving off Viktor’s warning. “That was barely a fire. You’re worse than Jayce.”
He didn’t mean to move, but the sound of her voice and that teasing cadence he hadn’t heard in years made his legs falter. The door swung open loudly as he stumbled, and the room fell silent.
“What are you doing here?”
Her sharp tone sliced through the air, and her blue eyes narrowed as she spun to face him. There was no malice there, only confusion and irritation. She hopped off the stool with practiced ease, her steps swift and deliberate as she closed the distance between them.
“Uh, hi,” Ekko stammered, raising his hands in surrender.
She looked him up and down, frowning. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, mister. How do you stand me up on our allotted date day and just think you can waltz in here scot-free?”
He stumbled back at her words; the word date being used so flippantly about the two of them that it short-circuited his thoughts. He briefly wonders if this is how Jayce has been feeling this whole time. This version of him and Powder were… together?
The realization burned, searing through his chest with an intensity he wasn’t prepared for. This Ekko,, this stranger who wore his face, had a perfect world. A world with Powder in it, alive, unbroken, and his.
Greedy bastard.
The jealousy clawed at him, raw and biting. It wasn’t fair. This other Ekko had everything he had ever wanted and more, while he was left behind in the ashes, struggling to keep moving forward. He felt a deep, aching guilt for the envy coursing through him, but it didn’t stop the bitterness from curling in his stomach.
And still, despite himself, he couldn’t help but drink in the sight of her. Powder. Not a memory. Not a ghost. She was here, laughing, living, and whole. Something he never thought he’d see again. Something he didn’t dare let himself believe he deserved.
Before he could answer, Viktor stepped into view, his cane tapping softly against the floor. “Ekko,” he said, his tone polite but annoyed. “Is there something you need?”
Ekko hesitated, glancing between them. Viktor was calm, as always, but Powder was studying him with an intensity that made his skin itch.
“I was just... exploring,” Ekko said finally.
Powder snorted. “Exploring? What are you, five?”
“Powder,” Viktor said gently, though there was a faint note of reproach in his voice. She huffed but stepped back, crossing her arms.
“You’re gonna hear about this later,” She spoke through her pout, gaze turned away from him.
Viktor continued, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Perhaps it’s best if you stay closer to Jayce. He tends to get... distracted without you.”
Ekko bit back a sarcastic retort, nodding stiffly. “Right. Thanks.”
As he turned to leave, Powder’s voice stopped him.
“Hey, wait!”
He turned back, his heart thudding.
She flashed him the softest smile that he only remembers her using from their time as kids before quickly bridging the distance with a quick peck to his cheek. His world halting for a moment, his cheek burning where she kissed, spreading to his other cheek until he was uncontrollably blushing.
“Go get ‘em tiger,” she said with a teasing salute before spinning on her heel and skipping back to her workbench.
Ekko stood frozen, his mind a whirlwind of emotions he couldn’t name. His hands trembled at his sides as he finally forced himself to turn away, slipping out of the room and into the hallway. Step by step, he put distance between himself and the sight of her. But it wasn’t enough. Her laughter, her smile, that kiss… it was all burned into him, threatening to undo everything he’d carefully held together.
By the time he reached the main hall, Jayce was already waiting. His arms were crossed, his expression tight with concern. “What happened? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Ekko let out a shaky breath. “I did,” he said, his voice barely audible. “Powders actually here.”
Jayce blinked.
“She’s Viktor’s apprentice,” Ekko said, his voice low. “And she’s... different. Like, normal. Happy. It’s messed up.”
“Powder’s the one Vik and Cait mentioned.”
Ekko clenched his jaw, staring down at the ground. “Powder is Jinx.”
He felt Jayce startle next to him, no doubt thinking of the bomb that murdered three counselors.
“She’s Powder though, nothing has driven her to madness in this world.” He felt a sense of protectiveness surge through him, defending her before Jayce even speaks. “She’s still… her.”
Jayce frowned, his brow furrowing. He seems to be choosing his words carefully. “How do you… feel about that?”
Ekko’s chest tightened, and his throat worked as if he was trying to speak, but no words came. Instead, he kicked at the floor, the weight of the question pressing down on him. He didn’t know how to feel. Relieved? Angry? Jealous of this world’s Ekko, who had her as she was always meant to be?
Ekko was brought out of his thoughts by a firm hand clasping his shoulder. Jayce was giving him an awkward smile but didn’t push his lack of response and instead changed the conversation. “There’s no record of Heimerdinger in this version of Piltover,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Which means... we’re on our own.”
Ekko nodded, his fears solidifying into grim acceptance. “So, what now?”
“Well,” Jayce started, the faintest hint of optimism creeping into his tone. “Luckily, we have a massive lab at our disposal. And I am one of the pioneers of Hextech. I think we can figure this out.” Jayce sent him a gentle smile, no doubt also unsure about how to navigate this new discovery but seemingly keeping a brave face for Ekko.
Ekko raised an eyebrow at him, his expression skeptical. But he didn’t comment. He simply gestured for Jayce to lead the way, keeping his thoughts to himself.
Because in his heart, all he could think about was her. Not Jinx, but Powder. Whole, happy, and untouched by the tragedy that had broken everything. And how much he hated the fact that, no matter what, she wasn’t his.