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Chapter Text

One of Viktor’s disciples handed him an envelope. 

“Thank you,” he thanked them.

Viktor ran a nail under the nondescript seal and prised it open. He recognized the handwriting on the card within. He had read it countless times during his ill-fated apprenticeship. As he perused, he made out the text: “RSVP” and “plus-one” and “reception to follow.”

Viktor looked out one of the portholes of his domestic dome. He was hesitant to abandon his commune so soon after its conception. Outside, he observed the communists carrying their weaved baskets of produce, carriages moved by small hoofed animals, the smoke rising from bakeries and forges. The harvests were good, their new water filtration system was free of pollution, and as new unfortunates appeared on his doorstep for improvement at an ever-increasing rate, they were growing faster than ever.

Just that morning, Viktor had perfected fifty-two willing pilgrims. Afterwards, he had almost powered down completely. The Hex-battery Jayce had constructed from the disassembled Hexgate parts helped him recharge, but it wouldn’t last forever. They had tried to find workarounds, ways to ration and extend its power, but it was futile. Viktor would run out of power eventually. Soon, even. 

Even now, Jayce refused to give up. There was smoke rising from his forge, where he was no doubt working on a new prototype.

Once, when Viktor had collapsed for longer than usual after healing a family of disciples, Jayce had asked him to slow down. To stop .

Jayce knew why Viktor needed to do this.

Outside the porthole, a little girl passing underneath stepped on a nail and kept walking. 

Viktor supposed they could survive without him for one night.

Jayce was in one of the blacksmithing pods, pounding away.

Viktor thunked the end of his staff onto the hard ground to get his attention between swings of his hammer. “Hello, Jayce.”

“Viktor!” Jayce jumped. He rapidly turned around, placing himself between Viktor and whatever he had been sweating over on the anvil. His (improved) eyes were very wide.

“Yes. Are you free tonight?” 

“I’m working on this new… hammer… prototype, but I can take a night off.” Jayce wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of a glove, brushing over the iridescent imprints of Viktor’s fingers when he fixed him. 

“Good. I am going to be attending a wedding, and I want you to be my plus-one.” 

Jayce’s expression was not promising. 

“Is there a problem?” Viktor squinted.

“Well, uh,” Jayce scratched the back of his neck shyly. “It sounds great, but what would we wear?”

Viktor considered this. Textiles had not been a priority in the commune. Most wore the clothes they brought with them, or styled the bolts of simple fabric that was woven for a multitude of purposes. 

He picked at the soft material that was draped around his shoulders. “I thought I might wear this.”

“Alright, I’ve heard enough.” Jayce tossed his hammer over his shoulder and ushered Viktor out of the pod. He commandeered a spare carriage and seized the reins. 

Jayce threw an elbow over the side. “Get in, partner, we’re going shopping.”

“Do you still have the invitation?”

“Not on me, no.”

“Why not?” Jayce’s eyebrows reached for each other like lovers.

“Your blanket doesn’t have pockets.”

“My—” Jayce took his eyes off the road to look at Viktor. “Oh, yeah.”

“The invitation itself is inconsequential. I have it memorized.”

“That’s good. Did it say anything about what colors we should wear?” 

“No,” Viktor said, “But the invitation was red and green. With purple accents, I believe.” 

Jayce nodded pensively. “Who’s it for, anyway? The wedding?”

“An old friend.”

“Huh.” Jayce drove on.

They made it to wherever Jayce had insisted on taking them. “Wienelschnitzer's Wedding Accessories and Accoutrements,” apparently.

“Zoo wee mama,” said the yordle at the counter. “You boys need help .”

He darted over to them, assessing them from head to toe, muttering concerning statements like: “this can’t be,” and “oh honey, ” and “plucked and waxed, plucked and waxed!”  

“Woah!” Jayce threw out his hands. “We’re not here for, uh, makeovers , my partner and I just need some wedding clothes!”

“Ha!” The eager yordle laughed in his face. “Ha! Ha! As if I would ruin my reputation by allowing a pair of my customers to approach an altar looking like that! Nonsense!”

Viktor and Jayce exchanged terrified glances. 

Before they could even look at the suit options, the two were forcibly directed through a series of doors, hallways, and possibly trapdoors before finally being thrust into a pair of salon chairs. 

The yordle appeared on a stepstool behind Viktor’s head with what appeared to be a spray bottle and a brush. 

“This is entirely unnecessary,” Viktor protested.

“Up-bup-bup,” the yordle placed a finger on Viktor’s lips, silencing him. “I, Wienelschnitzer, will take care of everything. On the house.”

Jayce gave him a panicked look from behind Wienelschnitzer as the yordle began spritzing away at Viktor’s head.

I tried!   Viktor mouthed back.

If he wanted to, he could send Jayce a telepathic message through the Glorious Hive Mind, or “Viktor Radio” as some had taken to terming it, but such methods of communication would also be received by all of Viktor’s communists simultaneously, so the channels were best left relatively clear for emergencies and topics that concerned the majority of the Commune.

Jayce glared before speaking up himself. “Actually, we were just thinking we would get some suits and get out of here. Considering the wedding is tonight , and you’re the fastest in the city—”

It was a valiant attempt, but Wienelschnitzer simply began ripping the brush through Viktor’s unruly tangles at lightning speed. “Fear not, chaps! I will be quick!”

The yordle pinched and poked and plucked and brushed and cut and shaved and sanded and buffed and moisturized and polished until Viktor almost forgot why they’d come. At last, Viktor and Jayce were whirled around in their chairs to face the mirror in front of them. 

“Ta-da!” Wienelschnitzer announced with pride, flourishing what may have been a blowtorch over their heads. “What do you think, lads?”

Viktor thought… 

Whatever Wienelschnitzer had done… It worked. Jayce’s greasy overgrown beard had been stripped from him, revealing a smaller, more appealing, beard underneath. His hair had been trimmed, shampooed, and rinsed. Jayce’s hands, resting on an extendable wrist-rest in front of him displayed a beautiful Piltover manicure, the dirt from the forge long gone. He looked all right. 

Jayce was looking at him. Wienelschnitzer must have been a tad heavy-handed with the blush. “Viktor,” he gasped, “You…”

Viktor assessed his own reflection. His voluminous hair now resembled a shampoo advertisement. The sides of his face, which had become the same metallic, purple color as the Hexcore, streaked with gold, were not concealed with makeup, as he had imagined the yordle might have done. They were completely bedazzled with bright purple jewels between the veins of gold, resembling the interior of an amethyst geode. “Oh boy.”

“Uhm,” Jayce said. “Ahem. Wienelschnitzer, what you’ve done is amazing, and generous. Would you be willing to show us to the suits now—”

Wienelschnitzer guffawed and wagged his finger. “Not until we’ve found you two suitable footwear!”

There was no need for shoes in the commune. Viktor had constructed the ground from a synthetic, arcane-grown polymer that made the commune pleasantly spongy to walk on. 

He remembered the girl and the nail.

Quite unnecessary.

“Quite unnecessary,” Viktor said.

“Pish posh!” Wienelschnitzer herded them through yet another maze of rooms and halls and a large closet filled with bridal gowns and veils and shoved them at last into a brightly-lit room lined wall-to-wall with shoes of all shapes and sizes.

The yordle manhandled them onto a fitting bench. Wienelschnitzer loomed before them, white-gloved hand reaching into his apron and procuring a loosely-looped tape measure. He pulled it tight between his hands with a resounding snap that made Jayce and Viktor flinch backwards.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” Wienelschnitzer intoned evilly.  

They emerged with some gaudy gold-adorned loafers, ones that clashed terribly at the moment with their somewhat simple (serviceable) garb.

“What colors have you chosen?” Wienelschnitzer proceeded ahead of them into the final room, one with racks of suits in all shapes and sizes, from jewel tones to pastels, and ornamented with various combinations of embroidery, feathers, pearls, and beading. 

“Red, green,” Jayce said. “And, uh, purple accents.”

“How… unique!” Wienelschnitzer’s eye twitched. He disappeared into the racks, tape measure trailing behind him.

Viktor sat on an available stool, resting his head on his staff. “How long have we been here, Jayce?”

Jayce looked at his watch. “Eight minutes.”

Viktor rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Unbelievable”

What followed was a whirlwind of fittings and changing-rooms and accessorizing that could only be described as a fashion montage. With every catwalk and pose that Viktor and Jayce stuck on their endless trot back and forth through the changing-room curtain, the yordle stylist would find something at fault.

“Too glam!”

“Too tight!”

“Pedestrian!”

“Oh… Yeah, that’s not gonna work.”

“In all my three-hundred years of life on Runeterra, I have never seen something so uniquely appalling!”

Wienelschnitzer seemed to have a deathly fear of being “out of date” and falling behind on fashion trends. When he discovered a piece on the rack that had been there for over a month, he nearly went into a conniption.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Viktor emerged for possibly the millionth time from the dressing room just before Jayce pushed open his own curtain. Viktor posed, extending a leg and arranging his hands on his hips. He tossed his voluminous hair over his shoulder. “How’s this?”

He was wearing a lime-colored silk cravat around his neck, a bespoke boysenberry waistcoat with an array of shiny geometric patterns woven into the fabric, bright magenta suspenders (striped), and a crimson jacket with satin seaweed-colored lapels. (The pants had a matching green stripe down the side.) Additionally, there was a mahogany-colored pocket square in the left breast-pocket of the jacket and a boutonnière through the buttonhole of the lapel as well.

The boutonnière contained a variety of materials, including a few violet feathers (dyed or collected from an exotic bird), wine-colored calla lilies, lilac-colored lilacs, and one candy-red rose in the center. Accentuating these bright colors were artfully arranged ferns and leaves. 

The fabric of the suit itself was adorned with bright gold buttons and quasi-mechanical metal accents in the Piltover style, as well as brocaded embellishments of delicately woven gears and a mixture of organic and geometric patterns which, though subtle, displayed their intricacies under the light. 

In between his feet and his shoes, he wore a pair of respectably tall raisin-colored socks that concealed his purple, metallic ankles from the public eye. Similarly, his hands had been covered with neon green dotted gloves that elegantly disguised the places where he had fused with the Hexcore. 

Wienelschnitzer opened his mouth to speak.

Jayce must not have noticed, because he cleared his throat really loudly. “Looking good, Tiger!” he shouted.

Jayce was wearing basically the same thing as Viktor, with some differences. 

“Why—” Wienelschnitzer removed his glasses in awe. “What a vision!” His eyes danced between Viktor and Jayce. “You must allow me to accompany you to your wedding! I must see my work come to fruition!”

To Viktor’s surprise, Jayce shoved an overflowing bag of coin against the yordle’s chest with enough force to make him stumble.

“It’s been a pleasure, Wienelschnitzer,” Jayce said firmly, “And your work is beautiful, but I’m afraid we must be going.”

Jayce put a hand on Viktor’s back and pushed him out of the boutique and into the carriage, snatching up the trash bags of their former clothes on the way out the door so they could not be incinerated. 

The sun had moved precisely eleven degrees in the sky. This meant they had spent forty-four minutes inside Wienelschnitzer's Wedding Accessories and Accoutrements.

Viktor used his Viktor-sense to locate his friend’s soul and pointed the way with his staff like a compass, while Jayce navigated the city streets. Jayce knew all the ways to be undetected due to his frequent Hexgate-sabotaging expeditions to obtain parts for Viktor. The same level of discretion was made significantly more difficult by their carriage and resplendent new suits.

As they began to near the venue, the streets became more and more crowded. Traffic crawled to a halt. 

“Odin’s beard, Viktor, who’s getting married? The goddamn pope?”

“Of course not.”

“I just hope this doesn’t take too long. I didn’t expect so many people to be here.” He leaned in to whisper, so Viktor tucked his hair behind his ear to harken.

“I could be recognized ,” Jayce hissed. 

Viktor looked at Jayce again. He realized that Jayce was right. 

In the Commune, Jayce had grown out his hair to nearly chin length and his beard had nearly exceeded the airship dimension limits for Hexgate travel. His clothes had been improvised from standard Commune linen and whatever he managed to thrift while he was out and about. Now, with his beard trimmed and groomed, his hair cut and styled, falling just far enough over his forehead to conceal the crown of Viktor’s fingerprints at his hairline, and a bespoke suit that accentuated his broad shoulders, he looked almost like the old Jayce again.

Except for the eyes. They simply mirrored Viktor’s. Pools of the Arcane. 

“You may have a point.” Viktor rummaged about in the carriage and produced a pair of artificer goggles. “You may wear these. As a disguise.”

“That’s a great idea!” Jayce put them on. “But wait, won’t your eyes draw attention? Even if no one recognizes you, they’re a bit…”

“A bit what?”

“Distract—Uh, unique . People might ask questions.”

“Perhaps.” Conveniently, there was another pair where Viktor had found the first. He put them on.

“They’re a little crooked,” Jayce said. “Let me fix those for you—”

Suddenly the two lurched forward, jostled by an impact to the carriage from behind. 

“You’re halting progress!” Some Piltie asshole shouted behind them. “Get a room!”

Viktor whipped around indignantly, but the sound of Enforcer whistles silenced him before he began.

“Tell me quickly,” came the voice of a female enforcer with an annoying British accent, “What’s the story? Who saw what, and why, and whe— Jayce is that you?”

“No,” Jayce said in a high, feminine voice. “Who’s that?”

“Oh great heavens, Jayce you’re alive?! You MOTHER-FUCKER!!”

“Jayce,” Viktor grabbed his arm. “We need to run.”

“Yup.”

As the carriage had been apparently blocking the narrow street for some time, the way was perfectly clear ahead of them for several blocks. “RAAAAAAAHHHHH!!” Jayce roared as he urged the hooved creatures to a gallop.

The wheels rattled as they flew over the beautiful paved slabs of Piltover’s streets, leaving the enforcers to eat their dust.

Viktor clutched his staff and hung onto Jayce for dear life as they careened past pedestrians and carriages. 

“Which way?” Jayce screamed over the gusty winds of passing that filled their ears as they overtook yet another buggy.

“Not much farther! Follow the crowd!” Viktor called back.

They made it to the designated carriage parking-lot and tumbled out, panting. 

“What time is it?” Viktor asked.

Jayce checked his watch. “Five-thirty.”

“Good, we still have time.” 

The day’s activities were beginning to exhaust him. Viktor was relying more on his staff at every moment. Apparently the road block had caused a ripple effect, including a break in the line. They made their way to the entrance unimpeded.

The bouncer crossed his arms and looked them up and down. Viktor realized he must look like a wind-rumpled mess.

“Invitation,” the bouncer demanded. 

Oh yeah , Viktor realized with horror. The Invitation .

He made a show of checking inside his jacket and patting his pockets. “Oh, I’m sure I have it somewhere. You see, I am actually a friend of the groom, and I—”

A female voice with a pleasant British accent cut him off. “ Jayce Talis? That can’t possibly be you over there.”

Mel Medarda appeared, wearing an elegant red and gold gown. 

“Let these gentlemen inside at once! They are friends,” Mel instructed and the bouncer allowed them inside. 

“Where have you been?” Mel pulled Jayce in for an embrace. “I thought you were dead, we had a funeral!”

“I know,” said Jayce, touching her arm. “It was beautiful.”

“You—You were there?” Her face twisted between shock, confusion, hurt, and Viktor predicted that anger couldn’t be far behind. 

“Jayce let’s go,” Viktor seized Jayce’s upper arm and hauled him away.

The goggles made everything dimmer, but they protected Viktor’s eyes from the glare of the first low-angled rays of sunset. He tripped smack into a wall face-first. Only, it wasn’t a wall. As he looked in front of him, he registered through the tinted lenses of his disguise that he had collided with the wide chest of an incredibly muscular man with the breadth of the broad side of a barn. Looking higher, he saw the man was holding a giant spear with green rocks tied onto it. He was also wearing a purple bow tie.

Viktor thought: Jayce probably knows what those rocks are . Then: Who allows weapons at their wedding ? Then, he noted their proximity to the altar and realized: Oh, this must be the bride’s Man of Honor. When he saw who was walking down the aisle, the reality of the situation fully sank in for the first time: How could I forget?

Although an elaborately embroidered floral veil hung over her face, there was no mistaking Ambessa Medarda. She was dressed in a pure white wedding gown with a train of continental proportions being held by at least half a dozen attractive young men, and was proceeding down the aisle at a dignified pace with a bouquet in her hands.

Viktor saw Jayce’s jaw fall completely slack at the sight. 

Waiting at the altar was Singed. Viktor had not seen him since the Shimmer incident. He seemed to be wearing clean bandages for once, and the top of his head was polished to a bright sheen. He was wearing…

Viktor’s gut boiled with chagrin.

They were wearing the exact same outfit .

The interactions at the boutique came rushing back to him. Wienelschnitzer's knowing glances. His comment about the altar. His odd request to go to their wedding. Jayce had introduced them as partners in a wedding boutique—what else was the guy supposed to assume? And now Viktor knew the yordle was a complete fraud because how had he spent so much of their time “custom-styling” the exact same outfit down to the striped magenta suspenders for three different “grooms” on the exact same day.  

“I’m gonna kill that fucking sausage,” Viktor growled.

Several enforcers appeared, slapping their batons into their palms at the far shore of the sea of seated guests.

“Jayce, find somewhere to hide.” Viktor squeezed his arm where he was still grabbing it and let go. “I’ll find you after the ceremony.”

Mel was nowhere to be seen among the bridal party, which appeared to consist of around two-dozen fully-uniformed Noxian soldiers, all with purple bow ties as a nod to the color scheme. Singed’s side of the aisle was completely empty, devoid of guests. There were exactly two chairs placed there out of courtesy, one of which was occupied by Jayce who was doing a terrible job blending in.

For the sake of economizing the space while preserving the tradition of seating families on their respective side of the aisle, the aisle itself was oriented at an absurd angle to maximize the surface area of the Medarda side, which was packed . Due to this arrangement, Ambessa had a long way to walk, giving Viktor time to limp his way over to Singed’s side.

Singed smiled at him with his eyes and Viktor grimaced back.

Ambessa reached the Altar just as the musicians dimmed their music, allowing the officiant to speak.

“We are gathered here today,” they said, “To celebrate the union of Ambessa Medarda and—” They subtly checked something on their wrist. “—Carl. Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

There was a pause so pregnant, Viktor could practically hear the heartbeats of sextuplets.

The officiant shrugged and took a deep breath.

“I object!” A high voice rang out clearly.

All heads turned to the source. Someone had stood up in their chair and leaped into the aisle. It was…

“Heimerdinger???” Viktor breathed in flabbergastment. He lifted his goggles to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him. (It wasn’t strictly necessary. He could see Heimerdinger’s soul.) 

The enforcer who was about to arrest Jayce dropped her handcuffs.

Horrified looks from everyone in the room.

“You don’t have to do this, my boy!” Heimerdinger’s voice sounded unsteady. “Don’t say yes, run away, now!”

“Enough of this,” Ambessa ordered, extending her bouquet like a weapon to point at Heimerdinger. “Seize him!”

The Noxian bridesmaids broke ranks and marched resolutely towards him.

“Fear not! I’ll meet you by the back door! Make haste! Run away!” Heimerdinger was backing away. “Now!”

With that last word, Heimerdinger sprinted at unfathomable speed, darting between the bridesmaid’s legs and making a mad dash for the back door. 

What happened next was chaos. Screams erupted as soldiers leapt over chairs and wedding guests alike. Bodies collided and sprang apart, enforcers started making arrests at random, fountains of blood and spit dislodged by punches arced through the air. 

This kind of pandemonium would never take place in the Commune, Viktor thought.

“It was good to see you, Viktor,” Singed said, resting a bony hand on Viktor’s shoulder. “I apologize for the inconvenience.” He gestured to the riot in front of them.

“It’s no trouble at all, Doctor.”

“Corin,” Ambessa said, “Who was that yordle? I will have him executed for this grave insult.”

“Don’t worry about it, my dear,” Singed clasped her hands in his own. “Nothing can come between our love.” His gaze snapped to a point somewhere over her shoulder. “What is that over there?” He asked, pointing.

Ambessa didn’t look. “Do you take me for a fool, child?”

Viktor was almost positive that Singed was older. 

“No,” Singed hung his head. “However, I have a confession to make. While the devotion and love I feel for you is profound and real… Dear Cecil also possesses the key to my shrivelled heart.” 

Ambessa glanced back to the gaggle of twinks that was still attached to her wedding train. “I think I can live with that,” she said with amusement.

“I think,” Singed reached up to lift Ambessa’s veil. “Heimerdinger will understand, also.”

The officiant was long gone, having fled in the panic. Battle cries and the clash of weapons echoed out over the crowd which appeared to have descended into all-out war.

Singed tilted his head as Ambessa leaned down to kiss him, lifting his back foot elegantly. At the exact moment they made contact, a molotov cocktail collided with one of the decorative draperies and set the venue ablaze.

“Viktor!” Jayce was attempting to fend off several enforcers with a chair.

“Jayce!” Viktor reached Jayce’s side and used the end of his staff to hold the enforcers at bay.

“I can’t believe what just happened! Did you see where Heimerdinger went?”

Viktor looked around, but the room was filling with smoke, and everyone was rushing for the exits. 

“Not for certain,” Viktor shouted over the din, “But I think I saw him go that way!”

They made for the back door. Pushed and jostled by fear-stricken attendees, they were caught in the current of bodies until an eddy of limbs forced them finally out the door. They were now on the street, borne along until they fell into a recessed area of the wall across the street and escaped the crowd enough to find their footing.

At some point they had started holding hands so they wouldn’t get separated. 

“I think that’s him!” Jayce pointed, and there was Heimerdinger. Singed was there, too, his tuxedo jacket nowhere to be found, cravat loose around his neck. Ambessa had one hand on his back, and the three appeared to be speaking. They were too far away to make out the words.

A group of people passed between them, blocking their line of sight. When they passed, Singed had knelt down, and he and Heimerdinger were locked in a passionate kiss.

“I knew they knew each other,” Viktor mused. “I just didn’t know how well.”

“They know each other?”

“They were partners.”

“Oh. Well that explains it.”

“Does it?”

“Wait… You never told me how you knew the groom.” Jayce looked mildly hurt. “You never mentioned him before.”

“Actually, I did. He is the one I consulted about the Hexcore when I violated your little blockade stunt.”

Jayce winced at the memory. “I shouldn’t have said those things. I still—”

“He is also the one who invented shimmer. That is what allowed me to make the first augments to my leg.” Viktor flexed his right hand, feeling the metal move under the glove without sensation.

“I… didn’t know he invented it.” 

“Let’s go home. It’s been a long day.”

Viktor and Jayce kept holding hands as they walked around the venue to the carriage parking lot. As they rounded the final corner, they came face to face with Mel and Jayce’s enforcer friend from before.

“You have some serious explaining to do,” said Mel.

“You look ridiculous! Take those stupid things off,” said the enforcer, wrenching the goggles off of Jayce’s face.

“Hey!” Jayce said in protest, but they came right off. He had deep circular indents around his eyes where they had been cinched a bit too tight and left impressions in his skin. His hair was completely tousled by running and the wind, revealing the fingerprints on his forehead. 

“I’m afraid I must ask you to return those,” Viktor stated calmly. 

“I’m afraid I must ask you what the hell you’ve done to my friend!”

Viktor scoffed. “I haven’t done anything he has not asked me to do.”

Mel was talking to Jayce. “... does your mother even know you aren’t actually dead?”

“Do you think I want to deceive the people I care about?” Jayce sounded distressed. “This has been no picnic for me either!”

Life in the commune… “No picnic”?

“Did you really think I wouldn’t understand, Jayce? That you couldn’t come to me with…” She looked up at the marks on his forehead. “Whatever it is that has happened to you?”

Jayce sighed. “I couldn’t. Your duty is to Piltover, you would have needed to report me for tampering with the Hexgates—”

“That was you?” Mel’s eyes widened.

“Jayce! What the fuck?” The enforcer gasped indignantly. “ You’re the infamous Hextech Bandit?”

“I, well, yeah. That. Would be me.” Jayce scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. 

“We don’t have time for this. We need to get back to the Commune.” The sun was going down. The communists wouldn’t know when to eat if Viktor wasn’t back in time to ring the giant steel dinner bell with his staff.

“What ‘commune’?” the female enforcer interrogated.

“I think there is a burning building coming down over there that might require your attention,” Viktor supplied.

Mel and the enforcer turned to watch just in time to see the wedding venue collapse.

Grabbing Jayce’s hand tighter, Viktor piled into the carriage, and they used the distraction to escape.

At the commune, Viktor and Jayce were seated beside each other around a bonfire. The members of the Commune were serving up bowls of fruit salad and chatting amicably. Sparks floated in the warm dark.

“What was that project you were working on earlier today?”

“Hm?” Jayce wiped a streak of juice off of his chin. “Oh, that’s not important. Just a side project.”

“And yet it was important enough to hide it from me when I walked into the forge.”

“Yeah.” Said Jayce. He looked into the fire pensively. “I guess we’ll never know.”

The End…

Chapter Text

Jayce walked with Viktor to the enormous sphere that served as Viktor’s home. 

When they reached the sphere, Viktor had eyed him curiously, like he knew , somehow. Jayce was in the mind link. Viktor could simply reach out and see what Jayce was hiding. But he didn’t. He wouldn’t. 

“Good night, Jayce,” Viktor said.

Jayce opened his mouth to say it back, but what came out was “So, Ambessa and your friend, huh? And Heimerdinger.”

“What about them?”

“They seemed happy. By the end.” Jayce mentally bonked himself on the head with the Mercury hammer. Viktor looked tired. He didn’t need to be having this conversation. Stupid, stupid, stupid , he chanted internally.

Viktor tilted his head and Jayce swore he saw the faintest smile brush over his features. “I suppose they did.”

Jayce needed to go. Immediately. “Haha,” he laughed awkwardly. “I don’t know why I brought that up. Long day. Good night.” He spun around and started to leave.

“Jayce,” Viktor touched his arm lightly with the tips of his fingers and Jayce turned back. “Are you happy? In the Commune, with me?”

Jayce felt his face go slack. As much as he wanted to exclaim: “ Of course I’m happy, Viktor, I’d be happy anywhere as long as we’re together!” It just wasn’t true. Not completely. 

Jayce said nothing.

The smile was gone. Viktor’s shining eyes dimmed with sadness. His hand slid off of Jayce’s elbow. “You may go.”

He could only watch as his partner tightened his grip on his staff and disappeared into the dark tunnel of the sphere. Jayce felt a nonsensical impulse to go with him.

And what? He berated himself. Curl up on the floor while Viktor hovers thirty feet in the air interfacing with the Arcane?

Feeling like an idiot, he walked home.

Now, lying on his cot, staring at the elegantly arched ceiling of his domicile, Jayce replayed the conversation in his mind. He was happy. For the most part. He loved working with Viktor to make the undercity better, to fully embrace the Arcane. Maybe it wasn’t exactly their Hextech dream anymore, but they were doing good. Together.

He knew his “death” had hurt people. People he cared about. His mother. Caitlyn. Mel. Heimerdinger, maybe. And that didn’t feel great, but now that he had revealed himself at the wedding, Caitlyn and Mel knew the truth. Word would get to his mother. He would get to see her again. Things would be more complicated for the Commune, and getting parts for Viktor, but a weight had been lifted from his chest.

By all accounts, he should be the happiest he’s ever been.

But something still gnawed at his gut. 

He didn’t know how long they had left. How long he could keep Viktor alive. How long they could sustain the Commune. If their efforts to purify the air, filter the water, sabotage factories, reclaim hextech for the undercity would be enough. If their legacy would last. 

What he did know was that he wanted to spend every minute of the time he had with Viktor. 

Jayce rolled over onto his chest, letting one of his arms slide off the spongy mattress.  There was a soft sound as the organic pockets of air compressed under his weight, the material conforming to his body. He was sickeningly comfortable. Cozy, even.

Yeah, this wasn’t gonna work. 

Jayce rolled out of bed, not bothering to pull on a shirt, and headed for the forge.

The next morning, Jayce walked with determination. Dew still clung to the bright flowers that thrived throughout the Commune, not restricted to the fields where they were lovingly cultivated. The sun had risen, but it hadn’t yet reached the height necessary to fully illuminate the fissure. Still, the first rays of dawn had begun to warm the petals of some patches near the western side. They glowed a soft golden color in the light.

He reached Viktor’s dwelling, raised one fist, and knocked.

“Come in, Jayce.”

Jayce entered. 

Viktor was suspended, weightless. Strands of Arcane energy, extending from the round walls of the sphere, clinging to his back. He had changed out of the suit from the night before, once again in the blanket Jayce had given him so long ago. His expression was serene, restful. 

Viktor opened his eyes. “Jayce! You don’t need to—”

Jayce gripped the bouquet in his hands tighter. “No, I’m gonna.”

“I cannot let you do this.”

“Viktor, get down here. It’s happening.”

Viktor looked like he wanted to curl up into a ball and disappear. 

Jayce brandished the flowers. “If you don’t come down and take these I’ll… start throwing them at you.”

Viktor reluctantly floated to the floor like a beautiful fairy.

“I should have said this a long time ago. I think I gave you the wrong idea last night.” He handed the bouquet to Viktor who seemed to grasp it on autopilot.

“No, Jayce, I understand. You have nothing to apologise for. I am the one who—”

“Viktor, I lied.”

“What?”

Jayce took a deep breath. “I lied to you,” he admitted. “There is no hammer prototype.”

“I… know.”

Jayce’s knee hit the ground. He reached into his pocket and withdrew the small box. “I’ve actually been working on this.” 

One hand flew over Viktor’s mouth in surprise. 

“The time I’ve spent with you have been the best years of my life. I can’t imagine spending the rest of it without you.”

Viktor clutched the flowers to his chest. The gold color of the petals was reflected in his teary eyes.

“Viktor,” Jayce breathed, popping open the box to reveal a beautiful silver ring. “Will you make me the happiest man in Runeterra and… be Life Partners with me?”

Viktor fell to his knees in front of him. 

“Jayce… I want nothing more.”

They flung themselves into each other’s arms, crushing the bouquet of flowers between them in a cloud of pollen that formed a giant heart shape around them and they lived happily ever after.

The End.

Chapter Text

After the bonfire, Jayce walked Viktor home.

“Good night, Jayce.”

“Hey, Viktor.”

“Yes?”

“You know that I love you, right?”

Viktor’s expression was profoundly fond. “Yes. I know. And you know I love you as well.” A crease appeared between his brows. “Is everything all right, Jayce?”

Jayce’s heart throbbed painfully. “Yeah. I guess I realize I never told you that, and. I wanted you to know. To hear it.”

“Thank you.”

“Good night. Viktor.” Jayce turned around and walked towards his domicile. It was very close to Viktor’s, although far smaller and in the style of the other communists' dwellings. He changed out of the opulent suit he still wore and donned his Hextech Bandit disguise. Once he was sure no one was watching, he snuck out of the window.

His disguise consisted of his ordinary commune clothes as well as an elegantly-draped linen sheet that, with a system of pins and sashes, fashioned a cloak of sorts. He pulled the loop of loose fabric at the lower part of the hood farther over his face, covering his nose, and headed out.

As he walked, something tugged at the edge of his consciousness. Viktor.

“Don’t worry about it, Viktor,” Jayce whispered, hoping he could hear, somehow, through the mind link. “I’m just getting some air.”

The presence persisted, pulling at his mind.

Jayce thought quickly. Resisting would only make Viktor more suspicious. He ducked into an alley with what he hoped were few identifying features that would expose his location if Viktor hadn’t thought to look already. He closed his eyes, and when they opened again it was Viktor who looked out of them. 

“Jayce,” said Viktor’s voice with his mouth. “Why are you sneaking off?”

Taking back control to answer, Jayce lied like his life depended on it. “I’m uh. Well, it’s private.”

“Oh.”

“And—and embarrassing.”

“My… apologies.” Jayce felt Viktor retreating shamefully.

He breathed a sigh of relief. That was a close one. 

Part of him wanted to call this off. To turn around now, go back to the Commune. Go down with the ship. With Viktor. But he had to do this. He couldn’t fail them.

Jayce made his way through the pipework until he reached his destination. The true base of the Hexgate, deep underground. He had already stripped the gemstone mesh here, but the main structure was still operative. He hadn’t dared something so risky before, but now he had nothing to lose.

The enforcers who guarded the Hexgates were posted at the base and outside the main chamber, but not in the main channels. He could simply climb into the elevator and ride up to the top, and no one would be the wiser. 

Jayce used his Hex-key that he always kept in his pocket and hopped in. On the long ride up, Jayce thought through the plan over and over.  He could not envision even a single alternate possible universe that would allow a different outcome. This was the only way.

A soft chime signalled he had reached the height of the Hexgate. He stepped out and found the chamber exactly as he had remembered it. 

Disassembling the entire mesh was difficult, but doable. As long as the majority was intact, he could defy gravity, walking on the round ceiling and walls. However, with every gemstone he removed and stuffed into the giant canvas sack he was holding (drawstring looped around his wrist for security), the field grew weaker. Because of this, he started at the apex of the structure, spiraling down, collecting the stones one by one. 

With every stone he collected, the blue light of the Hexgate grew dimmer. When he took the last one, the only light came from his bag and from the Hex-battery containment unit in the center. He disconnected all the ports and lugged the canisters of energy two by two into the elevator. With the power from these, and from the ones stockpiled at the Commune, Viktor should be able to sustain himself for years. Decades even.

Jayce tucked the note he had written between two of the canisters and punched the down arrow on the elevator. He watched the doors close and the progress bar blink against the dim blue light. 

There was still time. He could recall the elevator. He could bring the materials to Viktor, tell him himself. Hope that no one traced him back to the Commune.

But no. Viktor needed to understand the threat himself. He needed a head start, time to prepare. Fortify himself. Secure his future.

Jayce shifted the weight of the one hundred crystals in the sack still slung over his shoulder. He opened an access panel revealing a big red lever. The failsafe kill switch.

He gripped the matte handle, steeling himself. It could only be pulled from the inside. Once he did this, there was no going back.

Jayce pulled the lever, and a loud, blaring alarm sounded. The signal to evacuate.

The Hexgates were designed so that if there was ever a power surge, the explosion would happen underground, miles from populated areas. They were also designed so that if there was a double power surge, where the surge from the top of the Hexgates triggered a feedback loop in the failsafe, they could seal off the lower channel.

This is what Jayce had done. Giant metal plates extended from the walls of the Hexgate and constricted beneath the main platform like a gargantuan camera lens with the sound of revving motors and moving metal.

Jayce estimated it would take twenty minutes to clear the area. He sat down to wait, alarm echoing throughout the dark chamber, and started counting. He had almost reached one thousand when Viktor slammed into his thoughts through the hive link.

Blinking hard, he felt Viktor take over, this time without asking. “Jayce, what are you doing?”

He sounded scared.

“It’s okay, Viktor. I left something for you. I wrote everything down, I’ve figured it all out. You’re gonna be okay.”

“Stay exactly where you are. I am going to come get you.”

Jayce launched to his feet “No! It’s too late, stay away!”

He couldn’t afford to wait any longer. Jayce’s eyes burned. He could feel Viktor’s fear and pain searing through him, blending with his own. He gripped the bag of gemstones with both hands and lifted it.

His muscles locked in place as Viktor extended his power. “Jayce, do not dare to do whatever it is you plan on doing.”

He didn’t want Viktor to be there for this. He was supposed to sleep through it. Jayce threw himself against Viktor’s presence, fighting for control of his limbs. “Piltover knows I’m alive! They won’t stop looking for me, they’ll find the Commune. They’ll want to use you, to destroy everything we’ve built. I’m buying you time!”

Jayce willed his arms to move, his foot to take another step, but Viktor still held him in place.

“I lied about the hammer prototype. It’s a more advanced configuration of the Hex-battery, one that can keep you alive. I left instructions, in the elevator.” Jayce didn’t know when the tears had started, but they were flooding down his face now. “Once I do this, they won’t look for you anymore. You’ll be safe. You’ll be alive.”

Jayce trembled with Viktor’s fear and anger as his voice tore through him. “I want you to be alive.” 

“It’s too late,” Jayce repeated. 

With every ounce of strength he had left, Jayce lashed out at Viktor in his mind. A horrible tearing sensation rent his skull, and he collapsed to his knees, impulses of energy lashing through him with pain he hadn’t felt since before he had allowed Viktor to change him.

A scream rumbled through his chest and escaped his lungs, rising to a roar as he seized control of his body and hurled every pound of force he could muster into a great arcing swing. He brought the bag of stones over his head and down onto the center of the Hexgate.

Timmy raised his hand. 

“Yes, Timmy,” the teacher sighed, wiping a hand over her face.

“Why did the Man of Progress blow up the Hexgate with himself in it? Was he stupid?”

The class erupted with laughter.

The teacher shrugged. “Well, he’s dead so I guess we’ll never know.” 

The End.

Chapter Text

Jayce took the last bite of fruit salad. “I guess we should… go to bed. I guess.”

Viktor gave him an odd look. “I—what else would we do?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Jayce said smoothly. Crisis averted.

“You obviously have something in mind. Spit it out.”

Fuck. “It’s—not ready yet.” 

Viktor squinted. “What’s not ready yet?”

“Nothing!”

“Jayce, you are a terrible liar.”

“I’m wiped out, I’m gonna catch some Z’s.” Jayce stood quickly and brushed dust off his pants from where he had been sitting. “Catch you later!” He gave his partner a casual salute and turned around, whistling.

He headed in the direction of his domicile. Once he was out of Viktor’s sight, he ducked behind someone’s house. Jayce crouched and backtracked between structures, scurrying out of sight when a communist came too close, until he made it to his blacksmithing pod.

Jayce let out a sigh of relief as he passed the threshold. The coast was clear.

“This isn’t your bedroom,” Viktor said, emerging from the shadows.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAH!” Jayce screamed.

“Care to explain this?” Viktor was holding Jayce’s invention pinched between two fingers. He raised one eyebrow.

“That’s, uh,” Jayce’s face was on fire. His heart pounded on his ribs like a gorilla with a glockenspiel. He scrambled for something, anything to say that would make this better. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

Viktor looked almost… disappointed. His shoulders slouched. “I did not mean to embarrass you, Jayce. Of course it was not meant for me. I should not have assumed.” Viktor’s voice wobbled. He set the device down and made for the door. 

Before Jayce could say anything, Viktor was gone.

He looked from the contraption lying half-finished on the cool anvil to the empty doorway where Viktor had left. Jayce had had a plan. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. 

“Viktor, wait!” But it was too late. Viktor was nowhere to be seen. Jayce ran to Viktor’s sphere, but it was dark and empty. He felt around in the swiss-cheese holes in case Viktor had curled up somewhere, but no luck.

Jayce ran out. Almost all the communists had gone to bed. The last lights were flickering out as they went to sleep one by one. Jayce did the one thing that he knew would get everyone’s attention. Ring the bell. 

As tall as he was, Jayce was still too short to reach, and he didn’t have a stick long enough to strike it, so he leaped into the air and caught the clapper with both hands, swinging crazily through the air. 

BING.

BONG.

BING.

BONG.

Jayce felt the vibrations rattle through his bones as he swung his entire body back and forth, colliding with the sides of the bell with each swing.

The communists gathered around, dazed and confused, with the same expression, somewhere between sleep and hypnotism, that they always wore.

Jayce leapt off the clapper, somersaulted, and rolled acrobatically to his feet. “Has anyone seen Viktor?”

Most murmured noncommittally. Some of them pointed helpfully to the giant sphere. 

“No, he isn’t there, I already checked.” Jayce was getting worried, now. Where had Viktor run off to?

He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Viktor!” He called out.

The only response was his own voice as it echoed around the high rock walls that surrounded the Commune. Jayce’s mind raced. He needed to explain everything to Viktor before he did something stupid. Viktor had skedaddled before Jayce could say a word. If only he had a way to make him listen.

Then it hit him. Viktor radio.

Well, it was now or never. He clenched his eyes and broadcasted his thoughts into the hive mind at top volume.

VIKTOR!!! This is all a BIG MISUNDERSTANDING!!!

Jayce waited for a response, static crackling in his mind. 

I am afraid I understand… all too well. Now that you and Mel have rekindled your affections, it only makes sense.

Jayce’s jaw fell open in shock. How had Viktor come to that conclusion? 

I don’t— We didn’t— Jayce spluttered.

Don’t feel the need to lie to spare my feelings, Jayce. I have evolved beyond the need for such things. My heart is impervious to pain. In fact, I am feeling fantastic.

Now Viktor was lying about how Gloriously Evolved he was. This was bad. 

No, Viktor! I made it for you! I MADE THE HEXSTRAP FOR YOU!!!

Silence.

Oh. 

Oh. 

Jayce became suddenly very aware of the entire commune who had overheard that conversation. And he had conveniently gathered them all into one spot so he could see all of their horrified expressions.

One of them, who Jayce recognized as Huck, coughed awkwardly. “May we, uh, go back to bed now?”

“Great idea!” Jayce said through gritted teeth.

Apparently, Viktor had gone out of the Commune through a secret network of hazardous fissure passageways and hidden himself in a cave. He squirmed his way out of a hole in the rock wall that was concerningly narrow and high off the ground.  Jayce waited outside for Viktor to emerge like a worm crawling out of an apple. After Viktor had successfully extricated himself, he reached back inside and pulled his staff out after him.

They stared at each other for a long moment in the moonlight.

“So,” said Viktor. “‘Hammer prototype,’ huh.”

“I mean—”

Viktor snorted. “You know, you could have just asked.”

“I was going to!”

“When? You mean after you finished building a customized, what, ‘Hex Strap,’ you were going to ‘pop the question’?”

“I wanted to be prepared!”

Jayce saw Viktor’s expression crack, and then they were both laughing. 

“You know, Jayce,” Viktor said. “We don’t need to wait for your… prototype to be completed, if you do not want to.”

Jayce raised his eyebrows. “Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?”

“I think so,” said Viktor, taking his hand. “What do you say we go back to my place and crank it?”

The End.

Chapter Text

Jayce went right to bed after the fire and slept like a baby.

The next morning, he went back to the blacksmithing pod and went to work on his hammer prototype. 

The next week, it was finished.

“Viktor, Viktor, come look at my finished hammer prototype!” Jayce said, truthfully.

Viktor looked at the finished hammer prototype. “It is beautiful, Jayce. Why would you ever hide something like this from me?”

Jayce scratched the back of his neck. “Well, gee, Viktor, I don’t rightly know!”

Viktor laughed heartily. “Ha ha ha!” he laughed. “Ha ha ha!” he laughed again.

Jayce couldn’t help but laugh too. “Ha ha ha ha ha! Ha-ha!” 

They laughed together. “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Jayce went on to use the hammer prototype to hammer nails, and Viktor never ever doubted Jayce again.

The End

Chapter Text

After the bonfire, Jayce went right back to the forge.

He didn’t like lying, but this was supposed to be a surprise. 

Jayce didn’t usually work in the forge at night because banging on metal with a big hammer made an inconsiderate amount of noise, but all that was left now were the finishing touches. Jayce stayed up all night, working on his creation.

The next morning, he sat upright from where he had fallen asleep on the floor of the blacksmithing pod, startled by a loud sound. DING-A-LING-A-LING. Viktor was ringing the bell for breakfast.

Jayce ran out of the makeshift garage attachment he had secretly added to his blacksmithing pod. Viktor’s staff was still raised, striking the bell again and again as the communists roused themselves.

“Viktor!” He shouted, waving an arm over his head excitedly. 

Viktor pointed at himself questioningly.

“Yes, you! Come over here! I have something to show you!”

Viktor made a confused gesture like, “what about breakfast?”

Jayce mimed throwing a very long lasso and reeling Viktor in. Viktor shrugged and headed on over.

“What is this all about, Jayce?” Viktor looked pleasantly bemused, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“You’ll see,” Jayce said mysteriously. He covered Viktor’s eyes.

“I can’t imagine how,” Viktor quipped.

“Yeah, very funny.” Jayce marched them both into the garage. “Now I’m going to take my hands away. No peeking!”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” said Viktor. Jayce could tell from the feeling of Viktor’s eyelashes against his fingers that his eyes were wide open.

“I’m serious,” he giggled.

“Fine, fine.” Viktor obliged, closing them.

Jayce tentatively released Viktor’s head and raced over to his creation. He spread his arms wide theatrically. “Ta-da!” he sang (a poor imitation of Wienelschnitzer).

“What is it?” Viktor raised his eyebrows, eyes still clamped obediently shut. 

“Oh my Starclan, Viktor, you can open your eyes now! Look!”

Finally, he opened his eyes. 

Viktor was speechless. 

“Well,” Jayce prompted. “What do you think?”

“It… doesn’t seem very you .” 

“What do you mean?”

“Um…”

It was a truck. A great truck. A futuristic truck. A cyber truck. 

“I call it the Hex-truck,” Jayce said, running a hand over its angular frame. “I made it for us, Viktor. Now we can cruise around the streets of Zaun, completely safe. Cause, get this,” Jayce tapped a fist on the metal hull. “One hundred-percent bulletproof.”

“But Jayce,” Viktor said, getting right to the point. “It is incredibly ugly. And you do not make ugly things.”

This took Jayce by surprise. Ugly?  

He looked at his creation. It was a little… boring. But that’s why he had added the Hex-powered light bar across the front. He pointed this detail out to Viktor, who did not seem impressed.

“What possessed you to make this… abomination?”

Jayce thought abomination was a bit harsh. “Well, I figured,” he put his hands on his hips and blew out a breath as he looked at the low-poly vehicle. “I figured everything in the Commune was so… well, organic , I guess… I felt like I’d go crazy if I didn’t see a few straight lines somewhere. I guess I overcompensated.”

“Ah.” Viktor looked defeated. “I see. You don’t like the Commune.”

“Hey, I never said that!” Jayce grabbed Viktor’s shoulder in what he hoped was a reassuring way. “I just… doesn’t it get a little strange, sometimes?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Well. There wasn’t exactly a delicate way to put this. “I mean, everything here is made out of Arcane… goop.”

“Goop?” Viktor exclaimed indignantly.

“And I’ve got nothing against it! Arcane goop saved your life! But, maybe there's a balance somewhere between,” he gestured vaguely from the giant goop-sphere that Viktor lived in and the Hex-truck, “whatever we have going on here.”

Viktor had tensed under Jayce’s palm, but now his shoulders relaxed slightly. He sighed. “Perchance,” he said.

“Breakfast?” 

“Breakfast.”

They had breakfast together. Jayce destroyed the Hextruck and built a Hexbug instead.  Viktor added bay windows and a driveway to the goop sphere.

The End