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It all started with Jayce.
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Even when cuffed and had to stand in the presence of the council, even when the odds were against him and that punishment was nigh swinging over his head, Jayce possessed the kind of bravery that made it impossible to look away. Idealism, dreams – there was a naivety that shone through, something so stubborn and unbendingly ambitious that it had Viktor widening his eyes despite the spotlight shining brightly upon Jayce.
And the thing that came to Viktor’s mind was how full of hope this young man was. How foolish, how admirable. How curious. It was that last part that had him slinking back into Heimerdinger’s office, to read through Jayce’s notes and that curiosity slowly but surely morphed into fascination. He wanted to do the impossible – bringing magic back – but then, making the impossible possible is also magic in itself. A magic that could be made quantifiable, that could be translated with the use of science and that maybe (surely as Jayce’s belief in his writing) the world could use it for the betterment of themselves. For the great things that it could do in its potential.
Viktor wasn’t one to swing on a possibility on a whim, but then again, he was a child of Zaun, a cripple from the undercity who managed to defy the limitations people put upon him to crawl his way out of that hole and made something for himself. He knew how it felt, had lived through it to be the proof of it all.
So, he went to Jayce Talis’ dorm and asked.
“Am I interrupting?”
---
After that and by that it meant their success (because Jayce had called it our Hextech project and Viktor his new partner), the high of it gave them the energy to weather the whole period of developing the hextech through trials and errors along with juggling with the council demands and regulations. Viktor was attuned to the politics and the academia games. How could he not for someone who had nothing to his name in the first place? Jayce, though not as privileged and gifted by prestigious bloodline, had been spared most of these because of the Kirammans and because he still was a topsider. A Piltie for all that he had been a foreigner alongside his mother.
Jayce was astoundingly steadfast, however. Oh, that had something to do with his ego too, but he held onto what he believed and this was what made him so incorruptible in Viktor’s eyes. Someone who understood and could share the work with Viktor, someone who never saw him as a means to an end and never lied when he kept repeating the word ‘partners’ concerning them – that he deferred to him instead of going ahead himself. Always looking back, looking at Viktor for his opinions and views.
Equals. And in turn, Viktor extended his rare trust to Jayce. He told him his story, his own dreams, and sometimes, even allowed Jayce to see his weaknesses. But Jayce never wavered, never flinched, never pitied him for whatever Piltie’s guilt Viktor was so goddamn sick of receiving. He just listened and listened.
It felt good. To have someone like Jayce in his life.
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It continued with Jayce.
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Then came these… moments, these instances that had Viktor holding onto the book Jayce had to wedge through the shelf to grab because it fell and Viktor could not reach, had him sipping the coffee Jayce brewed indulgently during those all-nighters they pulled, the way he rubbed on the spot Jayce had placed his hand on his skin as a gesture of support.
Jayce was open with his touches, with his affections. He had a bleeding heart and he was gentle. Sweet, perhaps too kind sometimes, that he would have been eaten by the wolves prowling the upper echelon of Piltover if he wasn’t wise and stubborn in his own right. He was bright in his smiles, loud in his confidence, but he never left Viktor. He turned back, offered his hand but Viktor knew what the world would think. The perfect Man of Progress with his Zaunite cripple partner. Oh, Jayce would be furious if he ever heard this in person, might even try to bolster Viktor in their eyes, yet Viktor knew how the world worked and he couldn’t possibly mar Jayce’s image even when he saw how much of his refusal to accept his hand had Jayce slightly pursing his lips, teetered in his steps – so much so that Viktor always had to be the one who made the first step backwards to push Jayce to move.
The inevitability of Councillor Medarda and Jayce getting entangled was not surprising. In hindsight, Viktor had expected it. More or less. He may be a cripple, but he was not blind nor deaf. It was already in the making, he supposed. They… fit each other and though a part of Viktor saw Councillor Medarda as Hextech primary investor, he knew it would break Jayce’s heart over this if he ever voiced it out. Jayce was allowed to have a life outside the project, Viktor would not begrudge him for not being chained to his lab desk for a good fourteen hours every single day. And also, because without Jayce delving into the Council and put himself with its members and the landscape of Piltover politics through Mel, they might never have the funds or friendly and greedy support for the Hextech. Because no matter what, power and money were things that Viktor lacked and Jayce had to actively seek out to make their dreams work.
Still, as his cough worsened and his body deteriorating, as his cane turned into a crutch and his brace caging his body more, Viktor’s eyes lingered on Jayce, on his face, his eyes. He let himself lean slightly onto his hand when Jayce touched him and he smiled inside whenever Jayce chose to stay at the lab with him or walk with him instead of mingling with the others.
It felt good.
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“How much time?”
He had asked and Jayce had looked ready to do anything else aside from answering, but Jayce never lied and never treated him less for everything in the decade they had known each other, so he replied and Viktor knew the bell was going to toll one way or another. So, he sought out Singed, his old mentor, and when he was offered that purple glowing vial, his hesitation he himself pushed by the mantra “Jayce would understand.”
But he never did tell him what he had done and would never because he was disappointed and angry when the bridge was barricaded and Jayce slipped in his chastisement. Jayce had backtracked quickly after he reminded him that he was from the undercity, that he had looked mighty guilty and ashamed, yet Viktor left him like that to drive his hurt home.
In the haze of impending doom, Viktor did things by himself. He tinkered with the Hexcore and in his peripheral, he knew that Sky was just trying to be nice, to get closer to him, but death had a way of reminding him of urgency, of desperation. That vile, vile thing that could drove the most hopeful to ruins. Viktor yearned for perfection, for something far greater than him that he could make in his own name.
And for a while, he managed. He could walk. He could run.
But it didn’t last. So, he kept going at it.
It costed him Sky.
That had stopped him.
That had shocked him and reeled him back. Shot him back out of the haze the Hexcore pulled him into.
Guilt ate at him. Something so righteously insidious and it beckoned him, down, down to the ground below. Just one step and the punishment would be just. The Hexcore had killed Sky, the Hexcore that he himself had touched upon. Pain and despair made it so easy to just follow gravity, it wouldn’t hurt more than what he experienced on a daily basis. It wouldn’t be so hard, it would still be his choice. He could try.
“Am I interrupting?”
Viktor stopped. He turned and Jayce…
Jayce was there.
---
Zaun wanted independence and Viktor had not much to say about it. Except that he would have given it over to them with less than the demands made. Piltover had much to lose if they ever allowed Zaun to be independent, but not Zaun towards Piltover. It was a hardy place with enough life to go on despite the absolute soul wrenching living down there could be, but if they were be their own nation, even under Silco, they could have a better chance than only making off with the scraps Piltover wiped from their table. No more looking up to the topsiders, no more inferiority, no more dissonance between their rights. It was not perfect, but it would be on their own terms.
Jayce was bolstered by his agreement and it felt as if they were back when they were younger. Full of hope and defiance, not yet worn down and so, so bright in their looking ahead of the future. But he also made him promise to destroy the Hexcore and he could see the absolute confusion Jayce had made, the way he was ready to not do so because it was the fruit of their work, and yet faltered under Viktor’s gaze then, surely, made the promise in the end.
They were together when they faced the council. And there was something to be said with how Jayce stood while Viktor sat in his chair. Still close to him, still together with him. It brought a flicker of amusement when Jayce genuinely told them all he did not give a shit about their words and immediately cut to the chase. Stark contrast to what he usually would do, no more smiles, no more bowing to their questioning. Straight to the point, cutting and so, so brave for the things he believed in.
There was hope when Mel raised her hand to support Jayce’s proposal. And when she did that, it caused ripples. Another was raised, then another, and another. It was a sight and Viktor shared a glance at Jayce who glanced back. Looking sure, looking relieved.
He saw all hands were raised before the deafening crash came and all he could hear was glasses shattering in the dark.
---
It persisted with Jayce.
---
He was alive and there was no relief in that. But Jayce hugged him and it was incredibly, unequivocally nice despite all he could feel was a potential. Jayce was so close, had looked so happy he could have burst into tears that Viktor only was able to stare at everything and nothing around him. Had just… stood there while Jayce fluttered about to drape the blanket securely around him. Viktor remembered this blanket, the same one that used to be piled or shoved onto some corner of the only couch in the lab. He held onto it as he moved, it still smelled of Jayce. Even when he began to speak and saw the growing sadness, the downright confusion that bloomed on Jayce’s visage the longer he went on.
“I was supposed to die.”
Then.
“You promised to destroy the Hexcore.”
It was the second time Jayce disappointed him and it was rawer than the slip by the bridge. Because he did not fulfil his promise and that he had made Viktor live using the very thing that had taken a life. He was ready for death, no matter how harsh it had been, yet Jayce pulled him from it with the Hexcore.
“I never asked for this!”
Jayce had shouted at him. Full of hurt and tiredness was what drove him instead of the brightness that usually fuelled him. Desperation too, yet he wouldn’t reach out and touch Viktor because Jayce was kind, he would never drag him but he also would not beg him to stay. Jayce was infuriating that way. A storm of passion and flaws and wonder that could never stop Viktor from looking at him. From the powerful thing bubbling inside him whenever Jayce was concerned.
It was affection, Viktor decided. Affection that held them together for this long. Enough of a confession and a realization. Enough for the justification in this thing Viktor possessed in his being about Jayce. Before it festered, before it made growing confusion, Viktor bid his goodbye to Jayce. Abrupt, but cutting. Succinct.
Jayce did not follow.
It did not feel good.
Sky showed him the way. And it opened his eyes to the things he could do for the senseless pain the people suffered. He could heal them; he could better them. This would be his new work and in this abandoned plot where nothing flourished, he shall build a haven for those who were hurting, who were in pain, who were yearning for healing. Those imperfect humans that had been thrown away and made to grovel the ground for even an ounce of survival, and Viktor would extend his hand on them to gift them the fruits of his efforts.
No.
Their efforts.
It rings. The empty space behind and beside and around him. For all the many people who have now come to live with him and him amongst them, there is a persistent void that Viktor can not fill. No voice, no breath, no smile that respond to him. Nothing. Only him and the hexcore humming within him.
He fashioned the blanket to fit, no more warmth nor smell on it any longer. But Viktor kept it because it was what the people could easily recognize him in. The hole was still there, yawning, questioning. He has nothing to answer it for.
Councillor Salo came to him. Desperate like any others, swallowed his pride to even look at him. Viktor touched him and he was a changed man. He told him about the disappearance of Jayce Talis, in great, meandering explanation that no one had seen him since. That the Noxian that Commander Kiramman had invited to Piltover had also been looking for him and found nothing. It clouded the happiness of Salo as the haven’s new resident. While everyone smiled and welcomed him, Viktor walked back to his own cocoon.
Like this, Sky left him alone. Did not try to say anything and for that Viktor was grateful.
The emptiness persisted and Viktor rubbed the end of the blue fabric between his fingers.
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But then.
Oh, but then.
Jayce appeared and though Viktor was not in his body as he spoke, he could hear the rush of metallic blood in his ears. Because Jayce had been nothing but much too good for him, Viktor admitted his thoughts, his faults. Could hear the hurt still in Jayce’s voice and maybe Viktor had made him bleed too much all by himself with nothing to stem it except a goodbye. That was a mistake and now he wished for him to come to him, so Viktor could show him just how much he had achieved, that he had not abandoned their dreams, after all.
Yet Jayce winced and it was the kind of wince full of pain and imploring fear. The Arcane, too, had touched him but where Viktor revelled in its workings, Jayce had seemed haunted by it. His whole form was the definition of it. No longer prim and neat, no more the golden boy nor the man of progress. He had a slouch to his posture now, shoulders bearing too many weights, and a leg that had seen better days encapsulated in a brace. Weary, like an organic lifeform brought through broken glasses and corroded steel.
Viktor could fix that.
He just needed for Jayce to come to him.
All Jayce did was a hammer to Salo’s head and a determination that bordered on insanity etched on his face.
That…
That wasn’t Jayce. Wasn’t his Jayce.
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Jayce did come and he did more than just entering the haven. He shot him. Full on. Yet he did not look triumphant, there was pain in the way his brows scrunched, overwhelming guilt in his eyes. It had been quicker than the first, Viktor distantly thought as the gear rolled away.
He could her the screams outside and Jayce had left. Stumbling back out with a heaviness as if he was the one being shot. There was already blood in his hands, but he only turned back for a fraction only for Viktor.
A hole was in his chest, another one that Jayce had made.
Viktor… understood then.
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He had slinked into the Council room and watched as Mel entered, as she and Jayce spoke. Jayce had cleaned up, but gone was that bright gleam, replaced by something tempered, something sombre. The brace stayed, it seemed, his leg forever needing it. (A tiny treacherous voice inside Viktor’s own mind whispered how he could have helped him, how they were a matching pair – that voice, a flaw in the work).
Jayce noticed him. He always did. And it was the second time, he shot at him.
Civility was slowly crumbling between them. What a shame. He had missed their talks and now Jayce was spitting venom and swinging his hammer. At him. He tried offering an olive branch, even hinting what the Noxian general was about to unleash upon Piltover. Mother, Mel had wondered in surprise, and she had been so quick to defend against him that it did incite a niche curiosity. A mage, newborn yet powerful. A well of power stirring inside her.
Of course, Jayce did not take kindly to him breaking through her barrier.
This was not what Viktor wanted. Jayce was clouded, when he became… emotional, his actions suffered. In this body of his creation, Viktor had forgotten how freeing it was to be able to move so well, to be powerful in his own strength. Just a slight push and Jayce stumbled. Just a little manoeuvre and he could cage Jayce in, could hold his pretty face and forced his delicate chin under metal fingers to tilt up at him.
All the work he had done and had been doing, everything and anything, only Jayce was worthy enough to share with. Only Jayce could keep up. Only Jayce could understand. They are partners, after all. Like how Jayce always wanted them to be and Viktor was giving it to him now.
“My partner died in this room.”
And Viktor pursed his lips. Third time Jayce had disappointed him, along with him rejecting him too. But Jayce was his partner and though this was a fault in the system, a hitch in the whirring of the engine, and it was such a shame that things had come to this. It was odd – exhilarating – to be able to pin Jayce down, to see him struggle so much when Viktor only used one of his hands to hold him by the neck.
It was so easy to cut off his air like this. After all, Jayce was flesh and bone and blood. But no, the flickering error whispered again, he just needed to incapacitate him. Long enough that he could take him away.
That was his mistake. Drawing it out too long.
Mel Medarda stood up once again and she made him release Jayce.
He was squashed between two forces, two people who were now bent on defeating him. Viktor left and the silence afterwards was deafening. Sky was there, holding out her hand to him as always. That was it then, Viktor gasped into the void.
That was it.
Then, so be it.
---
He felt powerful.
Enough so like a god. No longer a mortal with weaknesses and instead now, could harness the arcane as he wished with the mere movement of his claw. It was almost laughable how much time Jayce must have spent shutting down the Hexgate when all Viktor should do was a flick and everything was alight once more.
But Jayce never backed down. He looked up at him straight on. Brave, brave man despite everything. Despite Viktor looming over him and no longer was human to his eyes. His eyes were clear, gazing right back at him and Viktor was pleased to see him, nevertheless.
Yet Jayce still stood against him and Viktor could not have that. He knew Jayce would follow as he flew up, knew he would swing his hammer, knew the futility of it all because he was back to grabbing Jayce by the neck and Jayce was baring his teeth. There was violence in the way they clashed, something so foreign and none of them would have dealt each other back then what felt like decades ago.
In the end, Viktor had ascended, had evolved. Jayce dropped on the top of the Hexgate, surrounded by his creations. He was one lone man, clutching his hammer and Viktor could sense the moment he gave up the fight, no longer standing up, something flickering across his eyes. He left his back open and Viktor got close – or perhaps Jayce had allowed it. His hand touched Jayce’s head, it felt warm and soft, and when they were connected, the marks Viktor made was a crown on him.
Because that was Jayce was to him. Someone equal, someone of worth. It was fitting as they went together into this glorious evolution Viktor was heralding in.
---
But Jayce had always been full of surprises.
It was his win nor Jayce’s. It was nobody’s win. Because Jayce had bared his heart out in that dimension where they were connected and him with his too genuine of a heart caused the flaws inside to come to life and against all odds, Jayce held him captive with his words and all purity and the goodness that choked Viktor so undeservingly.
“You were never broken, Viktor.”
He said while smiling. Even as he was so close to be swept away by the currents.
“Your imperfections make you beautiful.”
As if those were his choice of last words that made it all worth it to get here. To get Viktor.
---
It flinched him away. For how could someone so beautiful like Jayce would see him as one as well?
But Jayce never lied. He never was, never had, never would.
Not to him. Not to Viktor.
---
Illogical. Incomprehensible. Inexplicable. There was no need for this, for the blip in the system he was creating. But then the boy saviour threw the odd equation of a hextech and it gave Jayce a chance to move. He embraced him and it was golden, it was warmth, it was everything.
A supernova of truth. The endpoint of revelation. Light shining on regret and realization. Viktor pushed him away but Jayce did not let go. He reached back. And against everything, he stayed when the whole world shook and imploded in itself. It was horrifying to know Jayce was still here, but his eyes housed such conviction and when their hands touched, enveloped each other, it finally dawned on Viktor that he was never letting go.
Because it had always been them, hadn’t it?
Viktor and Jayce. Jayce and Viktor. Together. Inextricably bound. Intertwined that not even the arcane could rip them apart.
There was that familiar warmth when Jayce held him, a familiar feeling of rightness when Jayce leaned his forehead against him. This, Viktor knew, would be a gentle death. But Jayce had never known one, not like him who became violently acquainted with it twice.
So, Viktor rested his forehead too and he rubbed his hand on Jayce’s arm because he could feel his tremor, the way his teeth grit as the world got brighter and chaotic. Because Jayce had always been the one who started a touch yet this time, Viktor could be the first to do so to sooth him.
Then it became blindingly bright. It felt poetic. It felt right. Jayce was here with him.
It was good.
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It started with Jayce. It continued with Jayce. It persisted with Jayce.
And it ended with Jayce.
---
If there is a world out there, that can house two cosmical beings, maybe that world might be far gentler than the one before. If there is still a place out there, that welcomes two stars, maybe it can be a brighter place because of that.
As long as they go together, then it will be alright.