Piltover—
In the private building reserved for Councilor Talis, a black-haired young man with a sickly pallor and deathly pale skin pushed the laboratory door open with difficulty, leaning on his cane. Exhaustion was written all over his face.
"Viktor, why are you here? You should be resting."
Inside the lab, Jayce had been reading through documents. Hearing the door open, he turned around—and when he saw Viktor come in, he frowned and spoke in a low, heavy voice.
"Compared to me, you're the one who should be resting more." Viktor's gentle voice sounded as he lifted his eyes toward the desk. Papers were piled everywhere in a chaotic mess, each page covered in Jayce's dense notes. "Mel already told me, Jayce. Have you gone two days without sleep?"
Jayce sat in his chair, looking worn down. He raised a hand to his forehead and said grimly, "I have been resting. You don't need to worry about me."
Walking up to the desk, Viktor reached out and brushed his fingers over the drafts. A faint smile tugged at his lips as he shook his head at Jayce. "Jayce… I don't mind."
"But I do!" Jayce suddenly stood up, staring at Viktor as he said with complete seriousness, "Don't give up, Viktor. I'll help you perfect the Hexcore. I will succeed—no matter what."
"Success…" Viktor nodded noncommittally, then spoke softly. "I believe you, Jayce. You will succeed. You're the most capable person I've ever met. But not like this—not right now. You're carrying too much on your shoulders."
"The professor was right," Viktor continued. "Hextech has made us lose our way. You got lost in reputation… and I got lost in the desire to survive."
Viktor reached out, grabbed one of Jayce's drafts hard, and crumpled it into a tight ball. His lips moved slowly as he spoke. "Do you remember, Jayce? We weren't like this before."
"…"
Jayce fell silent.
After a moment, he finally said to Viktor, "I know. Viktor, I'm sorry. When you needed me most, I… I…" His voice faltered. "Anyway—Viktor, I've already filed to resign my seat. I'm done being a councilor."
He understood what Viktor meant. He really had lost himself, forgetting what he'd wanted in the beginning.
Fame and profit had made him lose sight of himself—but the moment he learned what was happening to Viktor's body, Jayce immediately shifted all his focus back onto Viktor.
And during this time, Jayce also became sure of one thing: becoming a councilor, standing under everyone's gaze—yes, he enjoyed the honor. But the responsibility that came with that honor and status, and the constant scheming around political interests, left him drained to the bone.
When had he forgotten that initial happiness?
Probably the moment he put on the councilor's uniform, walked onto the stage, and set down his hammer to become a politician.
"Jayce, that's not the problem." Viktor shook his head. "It's this thing. We really can't keep researching it."
"Hextech isn't as simple as we thought—especially after it fused with runes." Viktor's voice remained calm, but the weight behind it was unmistakable. "The Hexcore is exactly what the professor said it was: something we can't control."
"Then what do you want me to do?!" Jayce roared at Viktor.
Days of fruitless research, pressure crashing down from every side, and too little rest—there was a ball of anger burning in Jayce's gut.
Piltover's problems. Zaun's problems. Noxus's problems. Viktor's problems.
He'd become a councilor, only to be crushed by problem after problem—and he couldn't solve a single one!
Especially Viktor's problem!
"Hextech doesn't belong to me, Jayce Talis, alone—it belongs to both of us!" Jayce's eyes were bloodshot as he glared at Viktor. "You tell me to give up, Viktor—then what? What am I supposed to do? Just stand there and watch my best friend die right in front of me? You want me to do nothing? Have you ever thought about how I feel?!"
Viktor stared at Jayce, stunned. He opened his mouth, but not a single word came out.
Jayce froze for a beat too—then, looking lost and hollow, he sank back down and slumped in the chair. He buried his face in his hands and said hoarsely, "I'm sorry, Viktor. I didn't mean it. It's just… lately everything's been… a mess."
"But Viktor," he went on, not looking up, "I'm not listening to you about this. Please—just wait. Wait for me to bring you good news."
Jayce kept his head lowered, his voice heavy as iron. "Enforcer!"
At his call, the Enforcer responsible for his security immediately walked in.
Jayce looked toward Viktor with a pleading expression. "Let me be alone for a while, Viktor."
Viktor let out a quiet sigh and nodded. "Get some rest, Jayce."
"I will."
Before leaving, Viktor looked at Jayce one last time—and then he left the laboratory.
Escorted by the Enforcer, Viktor tightened his grip on his cane.
Jayce meant well.
But the Hexcore… really wasn't something they could control.
And evolution—was it truly a good thing?
A flicker of confusion passed through Viktor's eyes.
Late at night, Viktor sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the drafts. The Hexcore was sketched across the pages again and again. After turning it over in his mind, Viktor finally sighed.
He'd said so many righteous, resolute things to Jayce today—yet now, when he faced the Hexcore himself, he hesitated all over again.
After a moment, Viktor set the drafts on the bedside table and prepared to sleep.
His body could no longer tolerate sitting and working for long periods.
Lying down, Viktor closed his eyes, forcing away the cluttered thoughts, steadying his breathing, calming his mind.
But then he heard something.
At first, Viktor thought it was an Enforcer on patrol. But with his eyes still closed, he frowned and listened more carefully—only to realize something was off.
The soft, shuffling sounds… felt like someone whispering outside the door.
"Ekko, you hit a little hard."
"Not like he'll die."
"The professor said this was the door, right?"
"Lemme check."
"Yeah, it's this one. Boss, Viktor's inside."
Viktor jolted awake. He sat up, grabbed his cane, and stared at the steel door with a deep frown.
They were here for him—and they'd knocked out the Enforcers?
That didn't feel like something a Piltovan would do. But would Zaunites come looking for trouble with him?
No… they wouldn't. Zaunites didn't even know him. So… Noxians?
Because Jayce rejected them, they were going to use Viktor to take revenge on Jayce?
Viktor drew a slow breath. He wasn't afraid—because this door had been built by Jayce himself, specifically to protect him.
After Viktor's health began to fail, he'd moved into Jayce's residence. From daily living to security, Jayce spared no expense, using the best resources available. Viktor's treatment now was—if anything—better than a councilor's.
The voices outside continued, and they weren't even trying to keep it down.
That only made Viktor more certain the people outside were Noxians.
Only they were arrogant enough to be that loud.
"Can't open it. This door… isn't something I can break. How was this made? Damn—has Piltovan craftsmanship reached this level? Boss, you were right. We really should learn from Piltover."
"Move, Ekko. Let me."
After that line, it went quiet outside—but immediately, the steel door Jayce had built began to tremble.
"The noise is too big!"
"Doesn't matter. If we get spotted, we just knock them out."
"…"
Hearing that—and seeing the door shaking violently… no, feeling the whole room shudder—Viktor stood up. He threw on his coat, leaned on his cane, and walked toward the door.
When he reached it, Viktor spoke. "That's enough. Whoever's out there—I'll open the door myself."
As he spoke, Viktor reached out and pressed the button on the wall. Only up close did he see it clearly: the wall was already cracked.
If he'd spoken a little later… what would the scene have been?
Viktor thought about it and decided the answer was probably: they would've ripped the door up along with the wall.
But… was that really something human strength could do? Viktor didn't know the exact weight of this door, but he was sure it was no less than over two thousand pounds.
With a rush of air, the mechanism released and the door slid open. In the corridor's light, Viktor saw two young men standing there.
One with black hair, one with white hair—
And their clothes were—
Wait.
These weren't Noxians!
And at that exact moment, the black-haired young man in front—still gripping the handle—looked at Viktor and broke into a bright, sunny smile.
"Good evening, Viktor."
"Ekko, move!"
The instant the words fell, the white-haired young man at his side pulled out a sack, sprang inside, and yanked it down over Viktor's head in one swift motion.
"Mmph—"
That was the last sound Viktor made before he blacked out.
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