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Fire crackles around Jayce as his consciousness slowly returns to him. His body feels weighed down, his eyelids heavy as bricks as he struggles to open them. His vision blurs with a splitting headache, but he can still make out the figure in front of him. "Mel," he calls out weakly, his voice muffled even to his own ears. He reaches out a hand to cradle her cheek, lifting her head to make sure she's still alive. Much to his relief, her eyes begin to open with a soft noise of confusion. "Mel, are you okay?" Jayce asks, voice laced with concern. He gently grabs her arms, partly to support her, partly to ground himself. He slowly pushes himself to his feet, helping her up in the process.
Distant coughing catches his attention as enforcers start making their way into the burning building, smoke filling their lungs. It's only then that Jayce truly takes in the state of the building. The roof is completely gone, rubble litters the floor, small blue flecks of the Arcane floating in the air. He can barely see past the smoke and dust and debris in the air. "It's okay," he assures Mel, though he isn't sure he believes it himself. He tries to hide the terror in his eyes as Shoola stumbles past them, half of her face damaged and gored from shrapnel. As she passes, his attention is turned to the other bodies in the room.
Salo lays trapped under rubble, screaming in agony as an enforcer tries to pull him out, his legs crushed beneath a fallen pillar.
His gaze drifts around, landing on Hoskel, lifeless among the debris. Hoskel is dead, Bolbok is dead, Cassandra is dead - they all lay in the rubble, bloodied and motionless. He rushes to Cassandra's side, hand finding her shoulder and shaking with the dull hope that she may still be alive, to no avail. He doesn't even notice as Mel is pulled away from his side, as Ambessa barks orders at the enforcers around him. But there's someone he's yet to see, and with a sinking feeling of dread, he lifts his gaze from Cassandra, looking around the room for the one that matters the most, the one he has yet to see or hear from so far.
Viktor.
He lays crushed beneath a large pillar, a strange soft purple glow making him easy to see through the smoke.
Jayce's blood runs cold, his heart sinks, and he isn't sure if the stinging in his eyes is from tears or the thick smoke getting in his eyes.
Viktor is barely visible beneath the broken pillar, blood and bruises dotting his pale skin where Jayce can see it. Viktor had been sitting next to him, when the explosion happened, he got hit- he's crushed- there's blood on his skin- he's dead-
Jayce snaps from his thoughts, scrambling to his feet. His body feels stiff yet alight with adrenaline, an uncomfortable chill settling in his spine. In an instant, he's by Viktor's side, desperately clawing at the rubble, pulling out small pebbles and pushing off bigger pieces. He strains, letting out broken noises that are a mix of groans and sobs as he forces the pillar off of Viktor.
Finally he can see Viktor, most of him at least. His clothes are torn from the debris hitting and scraping him, cuts litter his face and body.
Without thinking, Jayce practically rips off Viktor's shirt, scanning over his body, searching for any more injuries. Other than the cuts and scrapes, he's mostly intact externally.
...
He's not breathing.
Oh god he's not breathing.
Jayce isn't a doctor, not by any stretch of the imagination, but in a heartbeat his hands are clasped over each other, pressing into Viktor's chest. He vaguely knows that he needs to do this quickly to get Viktor's heart started, and he starts counting under his breath as he puts all of his weight into his compressions.
1, 2, 3...
After he utters 30, he leans down and opens Viktor's mouth, pressing their lips together and desperately breathing into him, before going back to the chest compressions.
28, 29, 30...
He doesn't even hear the people around him, the enforcers assessing the damage and watching Jayce pitifully. His focus is purely on Viktor, who isn't breathing, isn't moving.
Jayce presses two fingers to Viktor's neck, letting out a sob when he feels nothing. No pulse, not even a hint of one.
He realizes this isn't working, and without a second thought he scoops Viktor's body up into his arms. Viktor is cold, and Jayce instinctively holds him a little closer, as if trying to share his warmth.
Everything is a blur as he pushes past the enforcers, running down the stairs, out of the building. It's cold outside and dark, but he knows his way easily from the council to his lab. Their lab.
He can barely feel the air around him, only the weight of the body in his arms, the cramping in his legs, and the sharp pain in his chest as he takes in ragged breaths. His lungs burn, he isn't used to running like this, but it feels impossible to stop. His fingertips dig into Viktor's skin, possibly leaving bruises. No, no, Viktor can't bruise anymore.
Jayce ran four blocks to make it back to their lab, ignoring the way his body aches and complains, he doesn't have time to care. Running through the halls of the building, all Jayce can think about is Viktor, about saving him, there has to be something that can save him.
He slams his shoulder into the doors of the lab to open them, rushing inside and quickly laying Viktor down on a metal table, subconsciously cushioning Viktor's head with his hand as he's laid down. His feet and panic lead him to their desk, their notes, and he starts hurriedly flipping through page after page of Viktor's own notebook.
Detailed depictions of hextech augmented limbs, the way they were made, what effects they've had, it's nothing Jayce had ever heard Viktor talk about before. Did he do this? Alter himself?
Jayce doesn't have a moment to even realize he'd already seen Viktor's glowing, augmented leg and hand, as the hexcore starts making a low rumbling noise, and Viktor's body responds.
He's responding.
It only takes Jayce a few seconds of consideration before throwing all caution to the wind in favor of Viktor's life. He picks up the large pair of tongs Viktor had asked him to make so they could more easily move the hexcore. He clamps the tongs onto the hexcore, lifting it from its spot and moving it closer.
Purple wisps of magic flow from the core to Viktor's body, and his body convulses, his back arching and fingers pressing so hard into the table Jayce worries they might break. He doesn't know what the fuck is happening, but Viktor is moving, and that's all he needs to keep going.
The core starts to pull away from Jayce, tugging at the tongs, drawn to Viktor like a magnet. He fights to keep a grip on it, afraid of what it may do if it reaches Viktor. The papers on the desk fly around with the force of the hexcores magical pull, wisps of the arcane lighting up the room as Jayce struggles, and struggles, and slips.
The hexcore flies to Viktor's chest, erupting in a blinding white light as it imbeds itself within his ribcage.
___
All Viktor remembers is the brightness when the bomb first hit the council, followed by pain and confusion, before he was knocked unconscious and subsequently killed. Or he thought he had died, at least, he's fairly certain he did, despite the fact that he's thinking now. Is he dreaming? Maybe this is the afterlife, a quiet void filled with distant glittering stars. It's peaceful, whatever it is, or at least it was.
Viktor...
A voice whispers in his ear, oddly familiar yet so far away.
Viktor...
It's a feminine voice he thinks, definitely not Jayce.
VIKTOR.
Viktor's eyes snap open in an instant, a ragged gasp breaking the silence in the room as his lungs fill with air for the first time in a week. His eyes dart around, his surroundings are blurry, so much so he can't make out much around him. But what he does notice is that he can't move.
His body is incased in some kind of gel substance, but he cannot feel it at all. In fact, he can barely feel his body. Everything feels distant, as if his skin is no longer his own.
Carefully, he tries to move his hand, and the goo gives, enough for him to push forwards, fingers stretching the weird substance before the surface rips. His fingers meet air, but still he feels nothing. He knows the air is cold somehow, but not by feeling it per se.
Motivated by the freedom of his hand, Viktor continues pushing forwards, straining his body as he fights against the substance holding him in place. He collapses to the floor once it frees him, his legs weak from disuse and giving out under him. He manages to catch himself with his hands, crawling a few inches from the strange thing he was stuck in.
His head feels like a brick as he lifts it, eyes catching on his crutch. With shaking hands, he reaches for it, missing the mark a few times before his hands grab onto the metal.
He feels like he can't walk right as he stumbles forwards, like a puppet on loose strings, just taut enough to hinder movement. Inch by inch, he's drawn towards the figure in front of him, until finally he recognizes the desk, the chair, and more importantly, the man sitting in that chair, slumped over the desk top.
"Jayce?" His voice is coarse, even to his own ears. Something about it is wrong.
Jayce visibly startles from his sleep, lifting his head from the desk top like something just bit him, his hands frantic as they stabilize him. Then, he looks over his shoulder, eyes locking with Viktor's.
"What... am I?" Viktor asks hesitantly, lifting his hand to examine it. His skin is more metal than flesh now, dark purple in color with brighter purple shining through deep grooves in his hand. It is... unnatural. Bearing some resemblance to his augmented leg, but much more deformed.
"Viktor? My god..." Jayce breathes, and Viktor doesn't miss the way Jayce's eyes trace every edge of his body, as if he never expected to see it again. But this isn't truly his body, is it? It's wrong, corrupted, it doesn't feel like it belongs to him. It's all wrong.
So why does Jayce look so happy, when Viktor looks like this?
"You're- oh my god- you're alive," Jayce stumbles through his words, breathless, a big dumb smile on his face. "You're alive!" Viktor tenses as Jayce launches himself from his chair to envelop him in a hug. Jayce is just happy Viktor's alive, of course he is.
Viktor can't feel Jayce's skin against his. Despite Jayce being shirtless and Viktor being naked, he can only feel pressure against his body. Even as his hand flattens against Jayce's bare back, he feels no warmth, doesn't feel the softness of Jayce's skin. Even his cheek, where he knows Jayce's hair brushes, feels nothing. Almost hesitantly, Viktor leans his head in closer, feeling the slight tickle of Jayces hair over his nose.
So some of his face can still feel, but nothing else. He will never feel anything with his body again, never be able to touch and feel the warmth of another person.
What has happened to him?
Abruptly, Jayce pulls back, stammering like a teenager before finally getting out the words "you must be cold." He probably should be cold, he's completely naked after all, but he isn't. The sensation is something similar, but not at all what cold used to be. He can't quite put it into words.
"Cold?" Viktor parrots, his voice nearly startling him with how off it sounds. "No, no I don't think so."
Jayce steps away for just a moment, returning with a blue and red blanket which he almost tenderly drapes over Viktor's shoulders, carefully adjusting it to ensure it doesn't fall. "I sense... a charge; a potential. A recursive impulse," he elaborates slowly, struggling to find the right words to explain the strange sensations coursing through him. "Unpleasant, but... cold isn't its name."
Every sense he feels is off in some way. Not erased, but altered, much like his body. He doesn't feel the same way, his new metallic body clearly not functioning the same way as his previous flesh. Why is his body like this now? He can barely remember, the last thing he remembers is a flash and pain before he died in the council room.
Viktor's gaze turns back to the thing he'd been stuck inside of. A large rectangular frame made of metal, a sheet of goo inside of it, shimmering in the light. There's a hole in it where he tore his way out, drops and smears of liquid speckled on the floor in front of it.
Jayce must have brought him here, and based off his current appearance, he can guess what Jayce did.
"The hexcore..."
"Viktor, it saved you! Somehow, it adapted to your injuries. Changing and evolving, it's almost as if it was connected to you," Jayce rambles as he absentmindedly returns to their desk, as if this is a normal discovery. As if Jayce hadn't broken his promise to destroy the hexcore. He looks at his hand, turning it over and truly taking a moment to look.
What has Jayce done to him?
Viktor had hoped when using the hexcore that he could preserve his humanity. All he'd intended was to extend his own life, to hopefully cure himself of his disease and his bad leg. But this... This is something so much more.
His entire body is made of that deep purple metal, grossly warped around his limbs. A purple glow shines through deeper cracks in his body, most notably the palm of his hand. He can feel its presence within him, like a weight in his chest. Like an electrical current pulsing in his veins.
Viktor barely even heard what Jayce was saying, speaking over him. "I was supposed to die," he states, and the look Jayce gives him can only be described as guilty and pitiful. "You promised to destroy the hexcore."
"No, don't you see? Heimerdinger was wrong." Perhaps he was, perhaps he wasn't, Jayce still broke his promise. Viktor was destined to die, it was his fate- has been his fate since the beginning. And now, Jayce has tampered with nature, and in turn, Viktor's body, his humanity. Admittedly, Viktor isn't innocent in that regard, but he never intended to take it this far. And all that he did, he chose to do, he did not agree to Jayce saving him.
"We were wrong, it's not as bad as you—" "It killed Sky, Jayce," Viktor interrupts, voice quiet and monotone. "What?" Jayce murmurs in shock. No one knew what truly happened to Sky, of course Viktor never told a soul, though the guilt weighed heavy on his. She'd simply gone missing. "She had such dreams."
Sky had always been so enthusiastic about science, and learning in general. He used to envy her energy, how she was able to study and learn without losing herself in the process like he and Jayce did.
His gaze drifts away from Jayce, another figure catching his attention.
Sky, sitting on their desk, her typical shy smile on her lips. Her hand rests on his notebook, thumb rubbing over the cover. No one else needs to die due to his negligence. Perhaps this is the new start he needed.
Slowly, he approaches, eying the book Sky'd been resting her hand on. His hand grazes over the cover of the book, analyzing the texture beneath his fingertips but not truly feeling it.
"As did we once," he murmurs absentmindedly.
"I'm going to resign from the council," Jayce admits, stepping closer to Viktor. He'd longed to hear those words for so long. He always understood that the council was important to Jayce and to their dream, the funding on its own proved that, but it began to feel like the council became more important than their work to Jayce. It wasn't uncommon that Jayce would be gone days at a time, no doubt with Mel or at galas and meetings, while Viktor was left to do their work.
"I understand now, my place was always here in the lab, with you." Jayce slings an arm over Viktor's shoulder, as touchy as ever. "We'll make this right, together." Together. What a ridiculous concept.
"I must say goodbye to this place now," Viktor murmurs, picking up the light green book and tucking it under his arm. He feels a pull, an impulse to leave the lab, and so he follows it. He turns and starts walking away from Jayce. "To you."
"Goodbye?" Viktor can hear the shock in Jayce's voice, but he can't bring himself to care. "Viktor, you're my partner."
Viktor pauses in his path. Partner. Perhaps they used to be, but now they are focused on two different objectives. "Our paths diverged long ago." Viktor turns slightly, not quite looking at Jayce. "It was... <em>affection</em>, that held us together."
Jayce continues to look baffled. He should, in all honesty, Viktor has never acted like this before, but he's also never felt like this before. He feels as if he has a purpose now, a destination, and he knows Jayce is not a part of the journey. Jayce clenches his fists.
"You think it's so easy? To turn your back while your whole city looks to you for salvation? To cling to principles while your best friend bleeds out in your arms?" Jayce's voice grows increasingly distressed, bordering on begging. "I never asked for this!"
A beat of silence passes before Viktor turns, and continues walking, the soft clank of his cane and footsteps the only sound echoing in the room. "Where are you going?" Jayce asks, a hint of panic in his tone.
"Goodbye, Jayce."