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MAN OF MYSTERY
A brief glimpse behind the laboratory doors with Hextech’s enigmatic co-founder
When my editors informed me that I would be interviewing the co-founder of Hextech, I naturally assumed they meant Counselor Jayce Talis, whose name and face have graced countless publications over the last four years, including this one. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that I was, in fact, going to be speaking to Hextech’s second co-founder, the mysterious Viktor.
Astonishingly little is known about the other half of Piltover’s scientific dream team. My research turns up little that isn’t already known: twenty-nine years old, born in the Undercity, previous assistant to Dean Cecil B. Heimerdinger, dual doctoral degrees in mechanical and chemical engineering, secondary degree in metallurgy. Former professors describe him as “brilliant,” “focused,” and “driven.” His counterpart at Hextech, the aforementioned Mr. Talis, wastes no opportunity to praise his partner’s skills and ingenuity. Intriguingly, when asked about his protégé, Dean Heimerdinger says he is “an exceptionally bright lad, if a little impetuous.”
Our interview takes place at one of Piltover Today’s smaller offices. Viktor arrives punctually, if a bit windswept and cold. He is, in many respects, exactly what one might picture when imagining a reclusive scientific genius. Physically he is lean and angular, with a pallor that suggests he doesn’t often venture out during daylight hours. His dark circles have their own dark circles. His hair can, at a stretch and with a good deal of generosity, be called “artfully disheveled.” He has the exhausted stoop of an academic, which is exacerbated by an unspecified medical condition affecting his legs and back. Whereas Talis’s square-jawed good looks could have been designed by committee, Viktor is a collection of angles that have crystallized into something sharp and compelling, if not traditionally handsome.
Today he’s dressed in an oversized tan jacket, slim-fitting brown trousers, and two red scarves stacked atop one another. What lies beneath the jacket and scarves remains unknown, since he never removes them. I catch a brief glimpse of gold on the helix of one ear before his dark hair covers it again. He carries a distinctive burgundy and gold crutch, which matches the intricate brace that encloses his right leg from thigh to ankle. His boots are thick-soled and sturdy. At first glance he appears to be wearing fashionably-patterned gloves, but I discover during our first handshake that the archaic symbols extending from wrist to fingertip are actually tattoos. His entire ensemble is practical and comfortable, yet the piercings, ink, and bold design of his mobility devices offer intriguing hints of a unique personal style.
For a man so devoted to protecting his privacy, one could be forgiven for assuming that Viktor is soft-spoken or shy, but nothing could be further from the truth. He is remarkably straightforward, bordering on acerbic. It’s often hard to tell when he’s being sarcastic because his tone makes nearly everything sound like a joke the rest of the world isn’t in on yet. He also employs an expressive mix of gestures, monosyllables, and meaningful silences that communicate just as much as his words. I have done my best to recreate them faithfully.
Hello, Viktor. It’s truly an honor to meet you. Thank you so much for sitting down with me today.
V: The pleasure is mine. Thank you for agreeing to meet me here. No stairs.
Our main office in downtown Piltover can only be reached by climbing twenty-odd steps to the front entrance. It’s something I’ve never had to consider before, and I tell him so.
V: That is fortunate, indeed.
His voice and face remain neutral, but I wonder if I’m being judged for not thinking about my employer‘s inaccessible architectural choices prior to this moment.
Before we get started, I was hoping you could clarify something for our readers.
V: I’ll do my best.
Your partner at Hextech refers to you only by your first name. Would you prefer we use a surname in print?
V: Viktor is fine.
Doctor Viktor?
V: Just Viktor.
Just Viktor, then. We at Piltover Today appreciate you speaking with us for our Men of Progress special issue. This is only the second interview you’ve given since Hextech’s founding.
V: That is correct.
Is there a reason you’ve continued to stay out of the public eye despite your company’s rising profile?
V: There are many.
How about your top three?
V: Ehhhh. I am a private person. I already attract more curiosity than I’d like to.
[He indicates his brace with a sweep of one hand.]
V: I don’t relish the attention. I prefer being able to shop at the market in peace.
That’s understandable. Do you worry that people will mob you, or are there other concerns?
V: Our research is…divisive. There have been credible threats to our safety. Why provide a slow-moving target for determined detractors to focus their ire?
[His lips thin at his own self-deprecating joke].
That’s true. Someone could do some real damage to Hextech if they targeted either one of you.
V: Precisely. The core team still consists of only Jayce, myself, and our research assistant. Nothing can be delegated. Thankfully, it is my preference to remain in the lab, which has the happy side effect of not having to face the general public often.
But mostly it’s about the incognito market trips, right?
V: I’m afraid so. Do you remember when Jayce expressed fondness for a particular brand of coffee, and for the next four months it was sold out everywhere? That was a long, dark winter. Hextech would not survive its like again.
I can’t imagine. What are your best tips for surviving Piltover winters?
V: Knitwear. Boots with good traction. Wool blankets, when we have an overnight experiment running. They serve the dual purpose of warmth and extinguishing fires. If our assistant is not too angry with us…
Angry with you about the fires, you mean?
V: About the explosions, or how little sleep we’ve gotten, or the gravity fluxes. Or the fires, yes. She will make a pot of sweetmilk to share if we’ve behaved ourselves. Like me, she is from Zaun, so the recipe is authentic. Jayce can occasionally be bribed into bringing his family’s sweet corn drink. It’s the only reason Winter should be allowed to exist.
What was it like growing up in Zaun, then finding yourself here in Piltover? It must have been a big adjustment.
[He regards me intensely for a long moment, fingertips tapping slowly against his crutch.]
V: I did not “find myself” anywhere. My decision to relocate to Piltover was deliberate. It has been my home for over a decade. I have acclimated.
That’s right, you’ve lived here since you were seventeen, correct?
V: More or less.
Was that when Dean Heimerdinger took you under his wing?
V: Yes.
How exactly did you two cross paths?
V: I was conducting independent research and had exhausted every resource available outside of the Academy’s library. I was not enrolled at the time, so each special request for access to the texts I required had to be personally approved by the Professor. He took an interest in my field of study and allowed me to pursue my degree while working as his assistant.
Degrees, plural. Your academic accomplishments are remarkable.
[He coughs and tugs at the sleeve of his jacket.]
V: It was…is…important to prove that the Professor’s faith in me has not been not misplaced. I am indebted to him for taking the risk of sponsoring my education, and the best way to show my gratitude is to make use of the opportunities his patronage has granted me.
I’d say you’ve exceeded all expectations.
[He grunts.]
Can we talk about that first interview you did with The Piltover Herald?
[He frowns.]
V: Kkcchh. You may ask, but I make no promises about the answers.
When asked about the future of Hextech, you expressed frustration about Piltover’s unwillingness to share its technological advances with the Undercity, despite making extensive use of its natural resources and inexpensive labor. You said you hoped Hextech could start to build a bridge between the two. How do you think those efforts are going?
[He hesitates for a long time. He seems to be considering his words carefully.]
V: Things are not progressing as quickly as I would like. I am still frustrated. In some ways, I am even more frustrated than I was then. But that anger is tempered by new knowledge. There must be existing infrastructure to distribute resources equitably. And there seems to be little interest in creating that infrastructure.
Little interest from which side?
[Shrug.]
Do you think the reluctance is political? Financial?
V: You are going to get me into trouble. This is supposed to be a…a puff piece, no? Best to focus on the positives, and not things that will land me in front of the Council.
[He shakes his head and sighs.]
V: The technology we’re developing has the potential to improve lives everywhere. In Piltover, Zaun, and beyond. Environmental cleanup, energy, medicine. The goal is, and has always been, to make Hextech accessible to all, especially the ones historically at the margins. It’s something Jayce and I both feel passionately about, and is one of the reasons our partnership remains so successful.
Alright, let’s pivot again. You’re obviously the main focus of this interview, but I’d be remiss not to ask about Councilor Talis, since you work so closely together.
V: Of course.
As open as he is about your working relationship, he’s uncharacteristically evasive about how you two met. Can you fill in the gaps for us? Does it have anything to do with his [now-sealed] academic disciplinary hearing three years ago? Or did you meet before then?
V: Ehhh. My role as assistant to the Dean put me in the path of many promising scholars. His research was compelling. We both dreamed of changing the world for the better through science. The rest is history.
That’s all?
[Another shrug.]
Somehow, that’s even less than what he’s said.
V: Alas. Some things are destined to remain a mystery.
Someone in our office found two of the ubiquitous “Man of Progress” mugs with Talis’s likeness on them to serve us our coffee. Viktor takes an ostentatiously loud sip from his.
Can’t say I didn’t try. Does his newfound visibility cause any professional or personal tension between you?
[He sets his cup down and sits up straighter.]
V: Absolutely not. We split duties according to our respective strengths. Jayce’s ability to connect with people and make them feel as passionately about Hextech as we do has been crucial to our success. I am fortunate to have a partner who so graciously steps in to make up for my shortcomings.
One would be hard-pressed to find a public statement where he acknowledges you HAVE any shortcomings. He’s exceptionally complimentary about your contributions.
V: Ach. Well.
He slouches back in his seat and takes another sip of coffee, less pointedly this time. I get the impression that he’s using the mug to hide his own face, and try not to draw any poetic parallels. He lets the non-answer sit for a while.
Can you expand a little on what Hextech is working on in the medical field? Most applications thus far have been in manufacturing and trade.
V: We’re still very much in the beginning of our research on that front.
Will we perhaps see an expansion into mobility aids or prosthetics? I can’t help but notice that your crutch is very unique.
V: It is custom-made, but there are no Hextech enhancements. I’ll have to register my disappointment with the manufacturer.
The color scheme seems familiar…
V: Its designer cannot resist leaving his signature on everything he touches, I’m afraid. His palette is predictably limited.
Would I be right in assuming it’s an unofficial Talis Forge creation, then?
V: Yes, yes. Jayce kindly crafted a replacement for my previous cane, which was damaged beyond repair early in our acquaintance. Over time, as my needs have changed, he has continued to improve upon the design. He consults me about practical features, but I leave matters of aesthetics up to his discretion.
I feel like there’s a story behind the broken cane. Maybe something to do with that mysterious first meeting?
V: No, it was after that.
How much longer after?
[He lifts one hand, palm up, in the universal “who knows?” gesture.]
At the very least, he must have made a good first impression if you trusted him enough to make you something you rely on so heavily.
[His expression tightens. He leans forward a bit, squaring himself to face me directly.]
V: Jayce is an innovator without equal, as well as a talented smith and engineer. I knew this before we met, based on his research. He has an…innate intuition for how things work which cannot be taught. Any problem he puts his mind to, he tends to solve. And he is absurdly generous with his time and expertise. I am always cognizant of my good fortune in having such a person as my collaborator and friend. Trusting him is as natural as…gravity. Or magic.
[He relaxes, and the unexpected intensity withdraws with him.]
Handsome, charming, intelligent, talented, kind, generous…he really is the whole package, isn’t he?
[He ducks his chin into his scarf, muffling a snort.]
V: If deities exist, they definitely have favorites.
Surely he has to have a flaw. Snoring? Bad taste in home decor? A weird toe?
[He seems to consider this question seriously for a moment.]
V: His adherence to personal protective equipment standards in the lab is execrable. I cannot tell you how many times he’s nearly lost a hand because he forgot to put on gloves before handling something corrosive.
Are you implying that Jayce is actually Hextech’s mad scientist, and you’re the voice of reason trying to rein him in?
[He lets out a barking laugh, which tapers off into a wheezing, amused cough.]
V: Not at all. His mind is just three steps ahead of what’s actually in front of him, which is at least four steps ahead of basic safety precautions. We’ve instituted a rule that no experiments can be done without proper footwear, at least. It’s a start.
I feel like there’s yet another story there.
V: Perhaps.
[He touches the toe of his boot with his cane; there is a faint metallic clang.]
So… gloves. Good boots. What else is on your personal list of lab safety equipment?
V: Long sleeves. Welding masks. Hoses. Ready access to large quantities of water. Grab bars placed at intervals on the walls at least six feet up, preferably twelve. Goggles, obviously, so the shrapnel doesn’t take an eye out.
Shrapnel?
He smirks and says something in Zaunish that he declines to translate. Later, I discover that it is in a regional dialect, and means, roughly, “Science requires victims.”
Looking over my notes, I’m beginning to understand what Dean Heimerdinger might have meant when he called his former mentee “a little impetuous.” Beneath the placid expressions, wry evasions, and (ostensible) commitment to PPE lies a scalpel-sharp mind and the resolve to match. Whether his nonchalance about laboratory dangers are exaggerated for my benefit or entirely genuine, it’s plain to see that Viktor is not a man afraid of pushing boundaries in the pursuit of progress.
It’s also obvious that Hextech is absolutely a joint passion project, despite what naysayers may believe. Viktor is not the most forthcoming interview subject, but he is at his most honest and unguarded when he can be coaxed into speaking about his friend and partner. Their mutual respect and admiration for one another is clearly at the core of Hextech’s continued success.
I hold up my own mug in a sort of salute, bringing me eye to eye with the frozen smirk of Jayce Talis.
Jayce would probably still be handsome even if he lost an eye.
[He huffs.]
V: I’m afraid you’re right. He’d use it as an excuse to wear an eyepatch and pretend to be a dashing rogue.
There is a commotion outside our interview room. A second later the door swings open and the Man of Progress himself is—inexplicably—standing there, as though he’s been summoned by our conversation. Behind him I can see a frazzled editor and two wide-eyed interns. His unexpected appearance brings all of us to a standstill.
“Hello!” he says brightly, with a little wave. Everything about him is bright, from his perfectly-coifed hair to the gold details on his coat to his shining shoes. He’s like an advertisement come to life.
This is my first time meeting Jayce Talis in person, and I’m struck by just how much of him there is. Seeing his face daily on every banner and billboard makes him literally larger-than-life. But in a confined space, his actual proportions are somehow also massive. He stands a head taller than anyone else in the room, with shoulders broad enough to fill the entire door frame. Even in winter layers, there’s a definition to the lines of his body that speak to a dedicated fitness regimen. He is handsome and magnetic and big in a way that can’t help but demand attention.
Viktor is nonplussed. His brows draw together, and he half-rises from his chair. Jayce remains in the doorway, seemingly unaware or uncaring of the chaos he’s created.
“Jayce, what are you doing here?”
Jayce turns his entire focus onto his partner. As he steps into the room, he seems to clue in to the awkwardness his arrival has caused.
“Hey V.” His smile turns sheepish. “I thought you’d be done by now. I was in the neighborhood, and…”
“I do not need a chaperone, Jayce.” Viktor’s voice is sharp, sharper than it’s been any time during our interview. He is scowling.
Jayce holds up both hands placatingly. “Of course you don’t. I’m sorry. I was just hoping to catch you before you left. But I can wait in the lobby until you’re done.”
Viktor looks at me, and at the frozen group still lingering outside the door. He sighs and indicates the corner of the room furthest from the door with a jerk of his head. Jayce immediately moves to meet him where indicated, and they commence a short, hushed conversation. I can’t hear what they’re saying—not that I would share details even if I could—but their body language speaks volumes. Viktor gestures irritably with his free hand, while Jayce nods along. At one point, he brings one hand up to rub the back of his own neck, a disarmingly boyish gesture. Even while being chastised, Jayce’s whole body remains inclined toward Viktor, head bent down and eyes firmly fixed on his face.
Within a moment or two, they seem to have reached a satisfactory conclusion. Jayce grins, no trace of embarrassment remaining, and tweaks the collar of Viktor’s coat, earning him a cat-like swat of irritation. Something clicks, now that I see the proportions of the jacket alongside a taller, larger form that would almost certainly fill it out better.
All at once, Jayce turns his gaze to me and walks over, hand already outstretched to shake. It’s disconcerting to be caught in his gaze; he has a way of looking at you like nothing else in the world exists. It’s hard to imagine ever becoming inured to it, and is yet another testament to Viktor’s fortitude.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he says, and he seems genuinely apologetic.
“It’s alright,” I can feel myself saying. “We were wrapping up anyway.”
We weren’t. There’s a half-page’s worth of questions I’d hope to get around to. But the momentum is lost. And as irritated as Viktor was when Jayce first arrived, there’s a distinct lack of annoyance as he watches us from the corner now. His posture is less rigid, his hands on his cane looser. Perhaps he’s relieved to have an excuse to be released early.
“The creative team is ready for you. They’ll want to talk about your cover, so it might be a while before we can let you go for the day,” one of the interns informs Viktor. He looks martyred, but Jayce lights up.
“That’s fine. How about while Viktor is doing that, I can sit down and…fill in? You’d probably have needed to reach out for Hextech information anyway, right? We can just do that now.”
And just like that, things are set into motion. The last five minutes feel more surreal than the entirety of my interview with Viktor. He thanks me for my time and offers a departing handshake. Jayce stops him briefly before he exits with a hand on his shoulder, and they exchange a few quiet words. Viktor seems calm, relaxed, even a little amused. It’s an unexpected end to an unprecedented interview, but I think this conclusion is as good as I could hope for.
Jayce sits down in the chair his partner vacated, looking far more at ease than its previous occupant.
“Thank you again for your understanding. I’ll do my best to make it worth your while.” His smile turns a little more genuine, I think, or at least a bit more wry. It reminds me, for a second, of Viktor’s.
“If I know anything about my partner, it’s that he never gives himself enough credit, so I’ll do what I can to make up the difference. What do you want to know?”