Chapter Text
Jayce leaned back in his chair, letting out a long, frustrated groan as he tossed the charred remnants of a device onto the cluttered workbench. A faint trail of smoke curled from its fractured edges, and tiny sparks danced like dying embers. The acrid smell of burnt circuits clung to the air, a bitter reminder of yet another failed experiment.
“Well, that was a colossal waste of time… again,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face. Exhaustion etched deep lines into his features, his usually sharp eyes dulled by the weight of repeated failures. “I just don’t get it. The equations check out. Every test says it should work. So why does it keep…” He gestured sharply toward the ruined device, his voice rising. “Why does it keep blowing up in our faces?”
The lab was a battlefield of trial and error, the aftermath of their work scattered across every surface. Broken glass, mangled wires, and crumpled blueprints lay strewn about, a chaotic snapshot of two minds pushing the boundaries of what was possible—and occasionally, what was sensible.
Viktor, who had been quietly studying a blueprint pinned to the far wall, turned at the sound of Jayce’s outburst. He crossed the room with measured steps, his cane clicking softly against the floor. Placing a steady hand on Jayce’s shoulder, he offered a faint smile, warm but touched with weariness. “Science,” he said gently, “is rarely a straight road. It is a winding path, full of setbacks and unexpected turns. This…” He gestured toward the ruined device with a slight tilt of his head. “This is merely one of those turns.”
Jayce let out a laugh, shaking his head. “At this rate, the road’s going to end in a ditch. And the Council? They’re going to laugh us right out of Piltover. Look at this place.” He waved a hand around the lab. “It’s a disaster zone.”
Viktor bent down, carefully lifting the scorched remains of the device. His fingers brushed against its edges with a delicate precision that belied their strength. The faint clink of metal on metal punctuated the silence as he turned it over, studying the damage with a critical eye. “If you destroy all of our equipment in frustration, Jayce,” he said dryly, “we will have nothing left to show them at all.”
Jayce huffed, leaning forward and bracing his elbows on his knees. “It’s not just the Council I’m worried about.” He hesitated, his voice lowering as if confessing something he hadn’t meant to say. “If we keep failing like this… people are going to start pointing fingers at you too, you know.”
Viktor straightened, his expression unreadable as he set the device back onto the table. After a moment, the corner of his mouth twitched into a faint smirk. “You assume I am merely following your lead. What if this is all my grand design, and you are the one being pulled along?”
Jayce let out a genuine laugh, the tension in his shoulders easing for the first time that day. “Yeah, right. You’re way too smart to let me drag you into a mess like this.”
He hesitated again, his next words weighing heavier. “Truth is… you’re the reason this whole thing hasn’t fallen apart already. You see things I can’t, Viktor. Big things. Me? I’m just trying to keep up and not trip over my own feet in the process.”
Viktor’s smirk softened into something more thoughtful, his gaze drifting to the shards of glass scattered across the floor. He knelt down, beginning to gather the pieces. “Flattery,” he said after a moment, his tone light but with an unmistakable warmth, “will not get you out of cleaning duty, Jayce.”
Jayce groaned, sliding off his chair to crouch beside him. “Fine, fine. But you owe me. Next time, you’re taking the blame when something explodes.”
“Considering your record, that would require quite a convincing argument,” Viktor quipped, handing Jayce a shard of glass.
Jayce smirked, brushing the piece aside into a small pile. “Oh, come on. The last three weren’t even my fault.”
Viktor tilted his head, his eyes glinting faintly with amusement. “If you are referring to the last experiments, I distinctly recall your ‘improvisation’ with the crystals being a key factor.”
Jayce rolled his eyes, nudging Viktor lightly with his shoulder. “Improvisation is what gets results. If I didn’t try new things, we’d still be staring at empty test tubes.”
“Yes,” Viktor replied, “but perhaps fewer ruined workbenches would also be a result.”
Jayce laughed, brushing the shards into his palm and tossing them into the waste bin. “Alright, fine. No more improvising. For today.”
“For today,” Viktor echoed, shaking his head. His lips quirked into the faintest smile as he reached for the next piece of glass. “I will hold you to that.”
The two worked in silence for a while, the sound of clinking glass and the faint hum of the Hexcore filling the air. It was a quiet rhythm they’d fallen into over the years, a balance between Jayce’s impulsive energy and Viktor’s precise methodology.
Jayce broke the silence first, leaning back on his heels. “Can we eat? I think better when I’m not starving.”
Viktor arched a skeptical eyebrow, though the faint amusement in his expression betrayed him. “You use hunger as an excuse for every lapse in focus,” he said, though there was no real bite in his words.
“Hey, it’s not an excuse if it’s true,” Jayce shot back, grinning as he reached for his coat. “Come on, Viktor. Don’t you think we’ve earned a break? This is the first time in weeks we haven’t set something on fire—or, you know, melted anything important.”
Viktor sighed, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. “Fine,” he said at last. “Perhaps a meal might do us some good.”
Jayce nudged him playfully as they made their way toward the door. “See? That’s the spirit. And seriously, if I have to eat one more stale sandwich from the lab fridge, I might actually lose my mind.”
“Perhaps,” Viktor replied dryly, “you would finally appreciate proper nutrition.”
“Proper nutrition can wait,” Jayce said with a laugh. “Right now, I just need something that isn’t half-frozen.”
Their laughter echoed faintly as Jayce reached for the door handle. But before he could pull it open, a faint sound rippled through the room. It wasn’t the usual hum of the Hextech crystals powering their experiments—this was something else. Something different.
Jayce’s hand froze mid-reach, his eyes snapping back toward the workbench. The crystalline core shimmered, its light twisting and shifting in chaotic patterns. Runes that neither of them had carved into its surface began to glow, pulsing like a heartbeat.
“Uh, Viktor?” Jayce asked, his voice tight with unease. “Is it… supposed to do that?”
Viktor stepped forward, his gaze narrowing as he studied the glowing artifact. “No,” he murmured, his voice almost a whisper. “It’s responding to something… external.”
Before either of them could react further, the core exploded with light. A vortex of energy tore through the lab, scattering papers, tools, and shards of glass in a whirlwind. Jayce instinctively threw up an arm to shield his face, his heart hammering as the chaos unfolded.
From within the vortex, a figure emerged, stumbling forward before collapsing onto the cold floor. His clothes were torn and scorched, his hands clutching a battered contraption that hissed faintly with escaping steam. He looked older, face weathered, etched with lines that spoke of sleepless nights and countless battles.
Jayce stared, frozen between caution and curiosity. The man’s eyes snapped to him, and for a fleeting moment, a kaleidoscope of emotions flickered across his face: anger, disappointment, and something disturbingly close to pity.
But when the man’s gaze shifted to Viktor, everything changed. His hardened expression softened, his eyes brimming with something raw—longing, regret, hope. He reached out weakly toward Viktor, his strength giving out as he slumped lifelessly to the floor.
“Help…” the man rasped, his voice barely audible before his eyes fluttered shut.
Jayce and Viktor exchanged a stunned glance, the air thick with unspoken questions. The glow of the Hextech core faded, but its faint pulse remained, echoing like the heartbeat of something far beyond their understanding.
“Jayce,” Viktor said finally, his voice steady but low. “We need to find out who he is… and how he came here.”
Jayce nodded, swallowing hard as his gaze drifted back to the stranger—and the battered machine beside him, its twisted form faintly emanating heat.
The room fell into a tense silence, the weight of what had just happened pressing heavily on their shoulders.