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Jayce opens his eyes to an infinite plane of white.
No, not infinite. In the sprawling expanse of bright nothingness, there are undulating streams of aurora-like lights rippling in and out of sight. They seem to flow carelessly through the space around him, weaving a strange pattern.
Languid and enigmatic.
In the haze of his unmoored thoughts, he feels the urge to reach out and touch one of these ribbons of flickering lights. Yet, at the same time, he also feels disconnected from his own limbs. The sensation briefly triggers a sentiment of worry. He does not know what has happened to him or where he is. And…
A sudden exhaustion overtakes his senses like a smothering force. It washes away all semblance of panic.
His eyes drift close under its weight.
When Jayce wakes again, the colorful auroras are still fluttering aimlessly, but now there is the added presence of a looming figure standing before him. His blurred vision focuses on the stranger, the edges of their robed form becoming sharper in definition. He lifts his gaze to the newcomer’s shrouded face. A pang of recognition quickly trills through him as he takes in middle-aged, stoic features.
“You,” speech finds its way back to Jayce’s mouth in a raspy stumble. The sound of his voice rang hollow and weak to his ears.
“Yes,” the stranger replies, his voice resounding fuller and more grounded by comparison.
“Viktor,” Jayce continues weakly.
A heavy pause hangs over them before Jayce’s visitor draws in a small breath and reaches for him.
“No one has called me by that name in quite some time,” there’s a hint of humor in the mage’s voice.
His hand touches Jayce’s cheek with gentle affection, the caress anchoring Jayce to the concept of his own body — a feeling that is a marked improvement from when he first woke up in this place.
“Where am I? Where is—,” Jayce cuts off as he tries to gather the rest of his bearings.
“Where is the younger you? My partner?”
“We are all your partner, Jayce,” Viktor says, “tragically aligned to fate as we are.”
Jayce frowns, confused. “I don’t understand.”
“You do,” comes the correction. “You’re just a little slow on the ante right now. It’s forgivable as your body and mind reassemble themselves.”
Jayce gapes, speechless, at that response. The distant feeling of worry circles its way back to the surface of his thoughts as he finally stutters, “M-my body and mind?”
“Hmm, more like blueprints of them are reassembling, eh? That would be more accurate of what is happening here. The Wild Rune’s anomaly reacted … abrasively in response to your neutralizing of it.”
“Are we dead? Is that why I’m seeing you and not the other you?”
Viktor gives him a subdued but amused smile. “No, you are not dead, Jayce. You were simply frayed. I took it upon myself to pull you both back.”
The hand that cradles Jayce’s face migrates to lifting his chin with a hooked finger. His ears prickled with the soft tingling of the hex crystals hanging from Viktor’s wide leather bracelets.
“You are currently in the connective tissue of the Arcane, just below the lamina that separates all realities.” Viktor loosely gestures with a staff that had gone unnoticed until then. “This is the cradle of unrealized potential — of undirected potential.”
An unexpected wave of vertigo suddenly hits Jayce, causing him to wince and squeeze his eyes shut against the assault. Viktor’s words felt as if they were physically latching on and taking root in his brain.
The anomaly. The way reality collapsed in on itself as he and Viktor impressed their wills on the wild magic that had engulfed them. The effect should have been contained to only them. That’s what they willed the Arcane to do. Jayce remembers the parallel thought he and Viktor shared in the astral plane — expelling the danger of the Hexgate magic they had wrought on their world.
He hopes it worked.
“I think I get it,” Jayce grunts, weathering the remnants of dizziness still gripping him as his vertigo ebbs. “We were flung into a space of superposition. That was the only other place all that unstable magic could go.”
Viktor smiles fully, the age lines around his eyes standing out against his worn complexion.
“I can always trust you to understand, Jayce. It’s why I chose you.”
There’s another pause before Viktor removes his hand from Jayce’s chin and steps back to stand at full height. A lingering sense of bereavement pulls at Jayce with the loss of Viktor’s touch.
“It’s why I will always choose you. Every time.”
More stability returns to Jayce’s body. He feels acutely aware of his limbs again — of his chest and the air passing through his lungs. He eases into what he registers as a standing position despite there being no perceivable ground beneath their feet. Viktor’s watchful gaze feels exacting while he gathers his remaining faculties.
Jayce lifts his eyes to stare back.
“Vik—,” he starts with a whisper.
“Tell me what you would like, Jayce,” Viktor interrupts. “What can I do for you that would equalize the ordeal I’ve put you through?”
Taken aback, Jayce frowns at his question: “Viktor, I-I only want you. I’ve already told you. All I want is my partner back.”
Under the shadow of his hooded robe, Viktor’s expression evens out into something unreadable.
“You can start over unburdened, Jayce. I can give that to you in this space.”
“To the end, Vik,” Jayce says firmly. “We see this through to the end. You and me.”
The oscillating streams of aurora lights fill the chasm of arduous silence building around them. Viktor’s draped, hooded figure strikes a formidable silhouette against the infinite white. He’s wholly different from the version of him that Jayce knows, yet still the same. That familiar aura of stubbornness filters through his wordless brooding like the certainty of a Runeterra sunrise.
Jayce feels compelled to reach for him, so he does.
Lean, solid shoulder muscles tense under his hold as he shifts closer to Viktor.
“We choose each other, V. That’s the part of the equation you’re overlooking.” Jayce’s other hand delves into the recesses of Viktor’s hood, daring to touch the sullen skin of the mage’s cheek. Viktor’s skin is rough and warm, but Jayce understands what the imprints of time and a desire to make things right can do to a person. He appreciates finally being able to experience this version of Viktor this way.
Here is the man who was both Jayce’s inspiration and savior.
Viktor gawks at him, wide-eyed and shocked, his free hand resting on Jayce’s wrist by his shoulder. The hex crystals of his bracelets chime once more, the sound anchoring the moment.
“Are you sure?” Viktor asks with a perplexed expression. His eyes examine the contours of Jayce’s face as if searching for an elusive answer that would contradict what was already said. His appearance shifts further into confusion, awe, and then caution.
“You know what I’ve done. In all timelines, Jayce. Surely—”
Viktor hesitates when Jayce takes hold of his other cheek.
“To the end, Viktor,” Jayce repeats. A tender smile slides across his lips as he watches comprehension unfold across Viktor’s face. He brushes a thumb along the crest of Viktor’s cheekbone, taking in the entirety of who this Viktor is — his long hair, bearded jaw, Arcane-infused skin, and the prismatic shifts in the color of the man’s irises.
Viktor was a marvel.
Jayce feels more than hears the sharp breath Viktor takes in when he kisses him, and he revels in the knowledge that despite the startlement, Viktor stays close. This galvanizes him into leaning into their kiss more. The sensation of Viktor’s lips against his, along with their mingling breaths — warm and distinctly corporeal — lodges itself deep in every corner of Jayce’s psyche. He wants to immortalize each second they share into a memory that never leaves him. Ever.
The moment passes too soon when Viktor parts their lips and stares up at Jayce with a surprisingly unguarded, fragile expression. His eyes shine with emotion, the reflections of the ever-present aurora shifting within them.
Then, Viktor glances away.
“In every timeline,” he exhales quietly as if in a trance.
He looks back at Jayce, something akin to resignation settling over him. Viktor places a careful hand on Jayce’s chest, pushing them apart. The unexpected loss of contact startles Jayce into reaching out again. However, instead of grasping the mage’s robe, he finds himself clutching the newly revealed shoulder of Viktor’s younger self.
The version of him Jayce had desperately held onto while engulfed in the whirlwind of magic that flung him into this strange limbo.
Jayce chokes out a surprised gasp, staring dumbly between the mage and Jayce’s unconscious partner. He grapples with the right language to express his feelings, but the head of Viktor’s staff begins to glow with power.
A kick-up of errant winds that were non-existent before clamors to life, sweeping into a storm around them. Jayce’s partner remains undisturbed, floating and calm as the winds build in force and speed.
“Viktor! What are you doing?” Jayce struggles to speak over the frenetic swell of magic.
“It’s always you, Jayce.” Viktor’s steady voice echoes clearly in the cacophony. A circle of luminous runes bursts into formation above them, banishing the vast plane of white to reveal the star-dotted expanse of an endless cosmos.
“No matter the quandary of any reality…”
An invisible force latches onto Jayce’s body, and he no longer feels steady on his feet. He rises toward the ring of runes; his partner’s sleeping form rises too.
“…We will always choose you.”
The resolution of Viktor’s words sears itself straight through to Jayce’s core like a branding rod. They resonate with a truth so profound and deep that the concept overwhelms him. A crushing mix of yearning and grief, tangled with boundless love and wholeness, grips Jayce in a vice. His hands shoot out in front of him, seeking blindly, until he feels his arms wrap around the solid presence of his dormant partner. Jayce pulls him close, desperate, as he shelters in the warmth of their embrace.
Tendrils of the Arcane grow thicker around them, their bodies dragged higher into the covenant of runes.
Below them, Viktor peers up with a sad smile, his hand and staff unwavering in the performance of his casting. With a weight of finality, he plants the tail end of his staff squarely on the unseen ground.
A whip of Arcane force punches Jayce and his partner through the invisible membrane of this nebulous realm. Jayce loses sight of the mage, but in the same instant, he feels arms encircle his waist, securing their hold.
“Jayce…” A tentative whisper tickles his ear.
“I’ve got you, V,” Jayce answers.
And he doesn’t let go as they are propelled through the stars.