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The Council Room, once representative of affluence, diplomacy, authority—everything Piltover allegedly stood for—now stood uncannily empty. The sound of Jayce’s footsteps ricocheted off the walls, echoing throughout the space.
Though his stride still felt somewhat unsteady, especially with his hammer in tow, he was grateful for the new brace Cait was able to provide him.
As he approached the center of the room, he noticed the deep crevices in the table from the attack were now inlaid with a beautiful gold alloy. Jayce’s brow furrowed. As if wealth could erase what happened in this room.
He set his weapon down, leaning the handle against the table’s edge. He traced the cracks slowly. It was clear the job was haphazardly done, the metal not even buffed down to be flush with the surface.
Jayce’s fingers slowed to a stop as the cracking came to an unnatural end, the area around he and Mel’s chairs completely unscathed.
His mind wandered back to the incident, images of chaos flashing through his memory. The injuries, the casualties…
His jaw tensed. Viktor’s face, slack and blackened with ash. He hated how his mind refused to shake the visual. How his body still couldn’t forget the weight of Viktor’s lithe frame in his arms, heavy and limp. How cold he was.
The worst part? If he could go back to that exact moment— even after…everything—he wasn’t sure if he’d have the strength to not make the same decision.
The gemstone in his hammer trembled suddenly, tearing him out of his thoughts. The runestone embedded in his wrist shot a sharp current throughout his body like a chill. Something was approaching.
Jayce’s head snapped towards the entrance. A feminine, hooded figure slowly walked out of the dark, draped from head to toe in white cloth. The shadows from the corridor hid her features.
He instinctively grabbed his hammer, eyes still trained on his mystery visitor. As she got closer, the light from the windows began to catch on her bronze skin, illuminating the gilded embellishments spiraling across her flesh.
Jayce squinted. It couldn’t be.
Mel pulled down her hood and stepped into the light. Ornaments of gold swirled along her cheekbones, crowned her forehead and traced the bridge of her nose. She looked ethereal.
Her face softened. “Jayce.”
Jayce breathed a sigh of relief. She’s…here. She-
His face fell. As she got closer, his head thrummed. He could sense it; the Arcane magic rushing through her veins. Suddenly, everything became much, much clearer.
Mel’s gaze swept over his body, concern pinching her brow. “What happened to you?”
It was almost a funny question. He wasn’t even sure how he’d answer if he had the energy.
He could hear the click of her heels getting nearer as she continued to approach him.
Jayce quietly turned his gaze back to where they once sat. He found himself brushing his fingers against the surface again. His eyes drifted to Viktor’s chair.
“…Doesn’t matter.” Jayce said finally.
Mel stopped walking. She stood in silence for a moment. “Something…happened to me, too.”
Jayce forced himself to look her in the eyes. “You’re the reason we didn’t die in the attack.” Out of all the emotions he thought he’d be feeling in this moment, he didn’t expect anger to be the loudest.
Mel ducked her head. She almost looked remorseful. “Apparently so.”
He turned to face her. “How long have you known?”
She looked down at her hand. Golden lines trailed up from her fingernails. “It started then. Feelings I…couldn’t explain.”
“But this—” She frowned, turning her palm. “This I still don’t fully understand.”
Fury flickered in his chest. “Why just me?” Jayce’s voice began to raise. “Why not all of them?”
“Why not Viktor?”, he wanted to say. He didn’t.
Mel huffed, clearly taken aback. “It wasn’t a decision. One moment you’re addressing the council and the next we’re standing in rubble I—didn’t have a-any greater awareness.”
Jayce could feel the flames grow, choking him up. “How can I know you aren’t lying to me??”
Mel shook her head in disbelief. “Why would you think I am?”
“Because you used me!” Jayce snapped, unable to snuff out his rage. “And Viktor, for Hextech! You called us investments.”
Mel narrowed her eyes, taking a step forward. “Two brilliant young inventors who shared a penchant for impossible surprises—”
Pain flashed behind Jayce’s eyes, images of the Anomaly fracturing his mind. Jayce grasped the handle of his hammer, hands trembling.
“—carrying magic from myth to machine—” Mel’s voice became further and further as his vision fractaled, ears ringing. He squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth together.
His breath grew ragged. He saw it. Those things. Those lifeless husks that wandered the ruins of Piltover. He felt it.
Shoot.
Jayce moved Mel out of the way and hoisted his hammer upwards, firing it at a pillar. The debris from the blast corroded, remaining unnaturally suspended in the air.
Something dodged the attack, flipping gracefully and silently landing a couple feet in front of them.
A thin, sleek figure stepped eerily out of the shadows. It had no face, its opalescent body covered in an elegant golden trim. The way it moved was almost puppet-like. Jayce’s heart thudded in his chest.
“Allow us a moment of civility, Jayce.” Viktor’s voice resonated hollowly through the room. It sounded sharp and metallic, as if gold coated his throat as well. “We must talk.”
The hairs on Jayce’s arms stood up. “Viktor.” He didn’t know he was capable of saying his partner’s name with such vitriol.
He glanced back at Mel, who looked just as uneasy. Jayce walked towards the creature, gripping the handle of his hammer tightly. “How did you get in here?”
“You once benefited from my knowledge of this place.” Viktor said, almost teasingly.
Jayce grimaced, remembering all the times he got lost in the halls, how he used to follow Viktor around like a lost dog. How Viktor found his lack of direction amusing.
“That was a long time ago,” he deflected. This wasn’t the time to reminisce. This wasn’t his Viktor.
His? He ignored the way that wording made his ears prickle with heat.
“Had you given me the chance, I would’ve shown you the merits of my work.” The vessel looked down at its hand, almost like it was admiring its gracile form. “Our work.”
“No.” Jayce growled through his teeth. “This is your obsession. Everything you’ve done to these people you did alone.”
Guilt clawed its way up his throat. Though he wasn’t responsible for Viktor’s actions, he was the catalyst. The reason he was like this in the first place.
Viktor wasn’t wrong. And that made him angry.
Jayce swung his weapon at the vessel. The puppet dodged immediately, its lissome body ducking under the hammer with the grace of a dancer.
He aimed his hammer at it, charging up a blast. It zipped away nimbly, moving as if it had no weight to it at all. A stark contrast to his hammer, which felt as if it grew heavier with each movement. His forearms burned as he looked around, trying to relocate Viktor.
His pawn. Jayce reminded himself. This wasn’t Viktor.
“Perhaps.” Viktor’s voice reverberated through the room, coming from every corner. “But I’m alone no longer. I now speak with all their voices.”
Jayce shivered, a chill shooting up his spine. “…Say what you came here to say.” He breathed.
Jayce spun around as Viktor’s voice traveled. “Somehow I think you already understand what must transpire in order to complete my mission. I would prefer to do so in peace.”
“The Noxian has other intentions.” Viktor said slowly. Jayce turned to Mel.
“Mother?” She muttered under her breath. His brow furrowed. Viktor was working with Ambessa?
At the speed of a blink, Viktor’s vessel dropped down from the ceiling, appearing behind Mel.
Before Jayce could even lift his hammer, Mel whipped around and splayed her hands out. Magic burst from her fingertips, surrounding her in a golden glow.
Jayce gasped, eyes widening in awe.
He could see Mel’s arms trembling, the glow around her dimming slightly.
The puppet raised a hand, fingers twitching. “The Arcane…stirs within you.” Viktor spoke, outstretching his palm.
The vessel’s fingers pressed slowly into Mel’s barrier, breaching the shield as if it wasn’t even there. Mel gritted her teeth together, pushing against the force but it was no use.
Jayce quickly raised his hammer and fired, the shot hitting the vessel in its head. It recoiled back for a moment, before righting itself.
Mel’s eyes rolled back as she collapsed from overexertion. Jayce watched as she lay unconscious against the floor. He let out a shaky breath.
The vessel’s head looked over Mel’s body, before directing its attention to Jayce.
“Viktor, for all our sakes…stay away from the Hexgates.” Jayce broke into a sprint, hoisting his hammer above his head. He couldn’t fail.
As he brought it down, the puppet moved swiftly out of the way. He felt cold, hard fingers press into his back, flinging him forwards violently with no effort whatsoever.
Jayce collided hard into the edge of the table, breathing heavily.
“Your mind has become rigid, Jayce.” Viktor purred his name in a low tone.
Jayce froze, panting.
It shouldn’t have been attractive. It wasn’t, not in any capacity.
And yet something about hearing Viktor’s voice behind him, tossing him around like some play thing, woke up some sick, sick part of his mind that he’d been pushing down for quite some time.
During those long months he’d spent in the Hexlands, as he’d begun to call them, of course he’d pleasured himself. He was only human. It was something to do, something to distract him, even for a moment, from his seemingly hopeless predicament.
At the start he imagined Mel, because it was easy. He’d think back to the night they hooked up, how beautiful she was, how her curves felt underneath him, the way she let him take the lead.
But some nights—when his patience and resolve wore thin—he found himself moaning Viktor’s name.
It was an accident at first. He tried to picture Mel as he stroked himself, brows furrowed in concentration. But the image began to falter, deep-brown skin turning milky and pallid, soft edges becoming angular and sharp.
A breathy whine caught in his throat as he began stroking faster. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, thinking of his best friend in this way, but it felt so, so good.
His mind fogged, the only coherent thought being Viktor, Viktor, Viktor. He thought of Viktor’s eyes, soft and the color of honey. How they’d look dark and blown out. He thumbed over the head of his cock, groaning.
He imagined Viktor’s slender fingers wrapped around him instead of his own. Precum slicked his hand, making the slide wetter.
He thought about the last time he saw Viktor smile, teeth and all. Teeth he wanted to mark him.
Jayce’s moan echoed through the cavern as he came, harder than he ever had the first few times. Shame heated his face and he sank into his hands, catching his breath.
He swore that would be the only time. But Viktor’s image continued to frequent his fantasies more and more as time dragged on, and he was utterly weak to it.
That feeling was returning in this moment, arousal stirring beneath his belt as Viktor stood behind him. Jayce cursed mentally. No. No, not here. Not now.
“Fear clouds your judgment.” Viktor stated. “This chain of events started with you.”
“No distractions.” Jayce thought. He spun around, swinging his hammer with all his might. The vessel launched itself in the air, soaring over his head. Metal fingertips grazed his forehead, the cold touch instantly growing strangely warm.
Viktor pulled his head backwards, slamming him back into the edge of the table as his hammer clattered heavily across the floor. His legs wrapped tightly around Jayce’s waist, rendering him unable to move.
One hand laid across his chest, just above his pec which the other roughly grasped his jaw. Jayce’s breath hitched, attempting to fight against the restraint with no luck.
Viktor’s thumb brushed against Jayce’s lip, before softly stroking his beard. Jayce’s eyes fluttered from the contact. It’d been so long since he’d felt an embrace, of any kind. As if this counted, but his body clearly couldn’t tell the difference.
“In my confusion I was unable to reconcile this, but I now understand.” Viktor slowly tilted his head upwards and Jayce reluctantly let him. He knew that when he looked up, he’d see the smooth lifeless face of the vessel and not Viktor, and it would snap him out of it.
But when he glanced upwards, his stomach swooped. Viktor stared down at him smugly, amber eyes twinkling mischievously. Astral planes scattered around him, his hair and body made of stardust. Only his face stood out, unmistakably human. He looked like a god.
Jayce just stared, eyes wandering over Viktor’s high cheekbones, his lips, the moles he always found exceptionally attractive, even though Viktor always said he never cared for them. He looked just as he remembered him; Not a machine, nor a Herald. His Viktor.
Jayce’s legs went weak, though it didn’t matter the way Viktor had him pinned.
His dick twitched in his pants, another wave of arousal crashing into him. He gritted his teeth.
Viktor leaned down until he was centimeters away from Jayce’s face. He could feel the warmth radiating from his body. His gaze stayed helplessly locked onto Viktor’s eyes, the grip he had on his chin unrelenting.
“The Glorious Evolution is destined.” Viktor whispered that last part breathy and low, smirk widening. The metallic edge to his voice was completely gone, the soft lilt of his accent prickling gooseflesh along Jayce’s skin. He bit his lip, muffling what would’ve been a groan.
He tried to think of something, anything to say to make Viktor let go. Viktor pressed the heel of his foot between Jayce’s legs, pleasure sparking up his body.
“A-ah.” Jayce moaned brokenly, heat rising up his neck. “Viktor, stop.” he rushed out, desperate.
“Lying is futile…Jayce. I can see what you want.” Viktor dragged his hand down Jayce’s torso and he hated himself for arching into the touch. “…what you need.”
Jayce panted, nostrils flaring. “I don’t—I’m not—” The hand trailing down his body skirted across his stomach and Jayce sucked in a breath.
Viktor’s eyebrows drew together, his face twisting into almost a frown. “This want. These…lower desires. I no longer have need for.”
“However,” Viktor pushed his palm into Jayce’s crotch. A pitiful whimper fell from his lips. His face burned. His legs shook, on fire. Everything was so warm. Only Viktor surrounded him. “It would be cruel of me…to leave you like this.”
Viktor undid the clasps on Jayce’s trousers, sliding out from behind him. Jayce’s chest heaved as Viktor dragged his hands around to the front of his hips, hooking his thumbs in his waistband.
Jayce bucked his hips upwards and Viktor pushed them back down, caging him with his body and restraining his wrists above his head.
“Vik…” Jayce gasped, letting his head fall back on the table. For the briefest moment, Viktor hesitated. He blinked, a mystery emotion flickering behind his eyes for a fraction of a second before he schooled his expression.
Viktor reached his hand between them, pulling Jayce’s cock free and wrapping his fingers around it.
Jayce’s mouth fell agape as Viktor stroked him torturously slow. His legs gave out, the sensation curling his toes in his shoes. He tried to protest but couldn’t form the words, a pathetic, defeated noise humming at the back of his throat instead.
He could see Viktor tense, breathing heavy through his nose. Like seeing him like this was affecting him just as much.
Jayce glanced across the room to see that Mel was still out cold. If she woke up and saw him like this…or worse, if she never woke up at all—
Viktor grabbed his jaw again, snapping his head forward. “Keep your eyes on me.”
Jayce’s eyes widened, blinking in rapid succession. The Viktor he knew was confident, for sure, but never like this, especially not physically. It did things to his mind that he’d rather not indulge in.
“You need not concern yourself with her.” Viktor brushed his thumb along Jayce’s jaw, making him shiver. “Her resilience is…commendable.”
“As for you,” Viktor teased the underside of his length with his thumb, twisting his wrist in such a way that it made the room spin. An amused smirk played on his lips. “I imagine you will not be lasting much longer.”
“You, ah—think this is funny.” Jayce panted, eyes rolling back briefly as Viktor toyed with the head of his cock. “Is that it?”
The corners of Viktor’s mouth downturned. “Funny? No.”
His hand sped up slightly, the precum dribbling from Jayce’s dick making the slide that much smoother. Jayce whined, rutting his hips forward into Viktor’s fist. “I do not find humor in your pleasure, Jayce. I find humor in your insistence on resisting.”
Viktor leaned next to the shell of his ear, voice dropping into that raspy octave. “You wish to tell me you have not once thought of how it would feel? To relinquish control?”
He carded his fingers through Jayce’s hair before gripping tightly, pulling his head back. Jayce moaned loudly at that, hips jerking forward once again. Viktor pinned him back down, squeezing him at the base.
“Of course not.” Viktor huffed a laugh through his nose. “I must say, your fantasies are quite creative. I hope I am doing them justice.”
Jayce squeezed his eyes shut, face flushing. “Get out of my head, Viktor.”
He was close, he could feel it. He knew Viktor could feel it too, his cock now painfully hard and throbbing eagerly in his hand.
Viktor loosened his grip on Jayce’s hair and caressed his temple with the back of his hand. “This is what I wish to achieve,” he breathed, pumping Jayce at a decent pace now. “A world where choice is obsolete.”
Jayce tucked his bottom lip between his teeth, eyebrows drawing together. He groaned weakly. “I-I’m—”
“I know.” Viktor cut him off, voice sounding almost strained. He moved away from Jayce’s ear to look him in the face.
To his surprise, Viktor looked equally wrecked. His eyes were dark and heavily-lidded as the cosmos that made up his body began to swirl.
“…Do not resist.” Viktor said quietly. His hand slowly trailed down Jayce’s face, before resting on his neck. Jayce’s eyes widened as he began to apply pressure, not a lot but enough to make his head feel fuzzy.
His throat bobbed under Viktor’s hand, eyelids fluttering shut. “V…please,” he moaned, desperation dripping from his tone.
“You’re not the only one with fantasies.” Viktor huffed, breath catching in his throat. “But…desire distorts priorities.”
Viktor wrenched his hand and before Jayce knew it he was cumming, hard, stars around him spiraling out of control. Viktor gasped, chest heaving, as if Jayce’s orgasm and his were one and the same.
He humped his hips forwards into Viktor’s touch, chasing that feeling of climax while Viktor stood there, a small sound of pleasure escaping his mouth that even he seemed shocked by.
Jayce hazily opened his eyes after a while, panting heavily. He glanced down at his shirt and grimaced, seeing the mess he made. Guilt colored his face.
Viktor watched as he snatched off one of his gloves, doing his best to wipe himself clean. He tossed the glove underneath the table like a used rag, averting his gaze.
Jayce kept his focus on the floor even as Viktor approached him, hand gently grabbing his chin.
“This future is inevitable, Jayce. I wish to have you by my side for it.” Viktor tilted his head slightly, and Jayce finally met his eyes. “Let us do this once again as partners.”
Jayce tensed at that word. Partners. That single word that bound them so strongly. He couldn’t lie to himself anymore. He wanted Viktor, badly. But Viktor was wrong.
He was at least right about one thing; Desire distorts priorities.
“My partner—” Jayce muttered, eyebrows furrowing. “—died in this room.”
Viktor frowned, the hurt in his eyes immediately evident. Jayce winced internally, but steeled his expression. He had a mission—and failure was not an option.
Viktor straightened his posture, the look of disappointment on his face growing. “It was my sincere desire to avoid this.”
Jayce felt a cold pulse in the middle of his forehead and suddenly Viktor vanished, the vessel standing in his place once again.
The sudden change in visual was jarring, catching him off guard. He quickly grabbed his hammer but the puppet was faster, latching itself onto his body and wrapping its arms around his head and neck.
Jayce slammed his weight back into the table, trying to shake it off but it instantly clung back on, wrapping its legs again around his waist. He thrust the end of the hammer into its head and it flung backwards, twisting into an aerial before landing on the other side of the table.
Jayce dragged the hammer against the floor, putting all his remaining energy into trying to land a hit on the thing. He managed to strike the creature’s arm, bending its wrist at an unnatural angle.
Almost immediately it contorted back to its original shape and the momentum from the swing threw him off-balance. The vessel took advantage of the opportunity, swiftly kicking Jayce across the floor.
The wind rushed out of his lungs as his back hit the table. He wheezed, trying to get up but was immediately pinned at the wrist and grabbed by the throat.
This time he could feel his eyes begin to burn, Viktor’s hand squeezing his neck with newfound intent. He felt his grip around his hammer loosen as the vessel slowly pulled it away from him. He flailed and kicked, trying to get it back but it was no use.
Jayce tried prying himself away from the puppet’s grasp but its strength was entirely unmatched, grip only tightening. The edges of his sight began to blur, and he could see the creature turn its attention to his hammer, seemingly falling into an odd trance.
Black spots danced around his vision and felt his consciousness slipping, arms falling limp.
A bright flash of light shone through the darkness and the grip on his throat immediately slackened. He heard his hammer fall to the ground with a resounding clang.
Oxygen rushed its way back into his lungs and he saw Mel, eyes and hair ablaze in a brilliant golden aura. She curled her fingers, twisting the vessel away from Jayce and loosening its hold.
Jayce fell to the ground and took a couple heaving breaths, before immediately reaching for his hammer.
He pushed the weapon point blank into the vessel’s chest, Mel’s magic keeping it pinned in place while he charged up a blast.
The room shook as the vessel twitched and distorted, large sparks of magic spiraling across the room.
The brace on his leg shattered, the energy in the room creating almost a vacuum. Jayce grimaced at the pain but remained upright, clenching his teeth.
A part of him wondered if Viktor could feel any of this, if he was in any pain. He let out a yell, pulling the handle before he could harbor the thought any longer.
Magic burst from every crevice of the creature and it flew across the room, crumpling onto the hard ground. An iridescent ichor dribbled from the fingerprint-like holes in its head before it finally stilled, whirring once more before becoming eerily silent.
Jayce slumped over slightly, shaking with adrenaline. His arm buzzed uncomfortably, like there was fire in his veins. He turned it over and saw that the Arcane pattern emitting from the runestone had spread up to his forearm.
In the corner of his eye he saw Mel begin to collapse again. He rushed forwards, catching her before she hit the ground and holding her steady. She blinked up at him, shaky but awake.
They both turned to look at the creature, splayed out in the middle of the floor. Even in death it was disturbingly perfect, limbs sprawled out in a picturesque way.
Jayce’s expression twisted, thinking back to Viktor. What he did, what he wanted him to do. It was all too much.
He did know one thing, however. At the end of the day, this was all for him.
✧
Viktor hunched over, panting heavily. He curled into himself, unable to stop his shaking.
His eyes were wide in disbelief. Jayce…betrayed him. His partner. The man he was willing to give everything and more.
It was evident something was wrong through Salo’s eyes and in the commune, his mind fractured beyond recognition. But there was no excuse this time, Jayce wanted nothing to do with him.
A torrent of emotions clawed within him, writhing and persistent. Only one remained irritatingly prominent; heartbreak.
Viktor sensed Sky’s presence, felt the way she kneeled down to comfort him, resting her hands on his. But none of it mattered.
He slowly pulled away, head hanging low.
This feeling—would not do.
“Doctor…” he muttered, expression dulling.
“You may begin the process.”