Chapter Text
Little could be found about the last known whereabouts of Doctor Reveck, though Heimerdinger did find himself nearly entranced by the squalor that the citizens of the Undercity lived in. It had been many decades since he ventured across the water, and seeing their rundown infrastructure was just the beginning of an uneasy turn.
This was not the life he pictured when he helped found the city, this was far from the progress and prosperity he envisioned. Perhaps now it was time Piltover turned its attention from the high towers of their pavilions, perhaps now was the time to really open his eyes.
As the yordel walked down the lower docks below the bridge for some isolation to be lost in his own thoughts, a hiss of pain under the bridge’s shadow interrupted him. He tilted his head up to address the sound, his little legs scurrying a bit as he rounded the corner.
To Heimerdinger’s surprise he saw a young man with quite a few scuffs and bruises leaning against the wall in the shade. His white hair sported notes of soot and ash, while his pant leg seemed to have a notable amount of blood.
“Great sprockets, lad, what happened to you?!” Heimerdinger asked as he approached the young man, though stopped when he saw the bizarre board device he was clinging to.
“A bad night, though nothing's broken this time. I’d say this date went well,” the man groaned, the joke not really earning much of a laugh. Heimerdinger couldn’t help but to ruffle his mustache at the silly remark.
“I’m not sure I want to know what kind of affairs you youngsters are getting up to,” Heimerdinger hummed as he got closer, looking at the boy’s leg. He moved the fabric of his bloody pants, seeing the graze of a bullet wound and a bit of swelling and bruising.
The young man watched him work, eyes fixed and unsure for a bit before a chuckle left his lips. “Wait! You’re councilman Heimerdinger!” The young man pointed out, causing Heimerdinger’s ears to twitch as he tilted his head to look at the boy. “What are the odds that I’ve had a run in with two councilors within-”
The young man paused, looking down at his broken watch, his grey eyes showing a downcasted expression. “Great, something else that needs fixing,” he mumbled dryly under his breath, though a light chuckle seemed to follow.
“Two councilors?” Heimerdinger asked as he stood up straight at this news.
“Talis,” he provided the name of the other one.
“Jayce was… here? Did he have anything to do with this?” Heimerdinger asked, a sinking feeling suddenly merging with the shame he felt from his stroll in the underground. This would be something he would need to talk to Jayce and Miss Young about.
“It’s a long story, one we shouldn’t have here… I need to get back to my hideout,” he said, trying to push himself up, but it was clear that doing it on his own was a painful endeavor.
The professor knew he needed to return back to his duties to the city, but it wasn’t like he could just leave this young man to drag himself through the streets with this kind of injury. The city and council could survive a little longer without him there, it would just be for another half day.
“Let me help you, lad, you shouldn’t be putting so much pressure on that ankle of yours,” Heimerdinger offered.
The young man looked conflicted but then nodded, “Thanks, professor… The name’s Ekko, by the way. Not ‘lad’.”
Heimerdinger blinked, and then smiled. “Alright then, Ekko. Let’s get you back home safe and sound first.”
Smoke, a red haze that snuffed out any light that would have made it to the room.
The smell of wet copper, an aroma that mixed with spice, dirt, and gunpowder.
The energized sensation of magic mixing in the air that danced with the taste of burning biomass.
The radiating heat from the crackling fire blistered Jayce’s skin as he looked over at the wreckage of the room around him. His vision felt blurry as smoke burned at his eyes, making everything look hazy like he was gazing through a fogged window.
It was a light touch on his arm that grounded him, making him realize that Mel was clinging onto him with shaking hands. Her eyes were wide in shock as she tried to form some semblance of words on her lips, though it was impossible to hear her over the ringing in his ears.
Jayce tried to speak back to her, tried to reassure her that they were both alive, but he couldn’t even hear his own voice.
Just that high-pitched tinnitus ringing.
Mel’s mouth was saying his name, he knew she was saying his name and something else, but he couldn’t make any sense of it. He tried to ask her if she was alright, but his tongue was like a lead weight that fused to his teeth. His eyes moved across the room slowly, looking at the devastation caused by the sudden attack. Bodies were laid out with the rubble, blood cooking with the fires that crackled on the wooden desk.
He caught a glimpse of Shoola stumbling with a noticeable gash from debris across her face, he could see Cassandra’s upper half still and breathless from being crushed under fallen concrete, and the sight of Salo attempting at being rescued while his legs were crushed under a pillar.
Mayhem, devastation.
Consequence.
Jayce turned as he collected what little of his bearings that he could, his eyes landing on Viktor. His partner, his love, was desperately grasping onto the council room desk as shrapnel and glass embedded in him.
“Viktor,” Was all Jayce could gasp out before dropping to his knees, reaching to support him by slipping his hands under his armpits. He couldn’t look at the pale face or shallow breaths for long, not when his vision trailed to the missile head still lodged in the rubble. A cartoonish face was drawn on the red end, a smile with jagged teeth.
Mel moved around Jayce to help him lay Viktor down, even as his body tried to desperately grab onto the desk’s edge. His eyes at first appeared to be bloodshot, but both councilors could see that it was the Shimmer in his veins that seemed to bleed into the whites of his eyes.
“Is he going to make it?” Jayce asked, blood dripping from his ears as Mel was careful to help lay Viktor down on the side of his body that wasn’t lacerated.
“I don’t know, I don’t know,” she mouthed while hesitantly reaching to his face, turning his head to help him from asphyxiating on the blood pooling in his mouth. Viktor was breathing, but it was strained and labored. The man didn’t seem to be reacting to them, frozen and fading right in front of them as the chaos continued uninterrupted in the room around them.
As Mel went to pull away her arm, Viktor grabbed her, blood mixing with the dust and soot on her dress. His lips were moving like he was trying to speak, yet it was either a whisper or the noise around them was drowning it out.
Jayce fell to his knees behind Viktor, tears rolling down his cheeks as he supported the man’s head.
“You can’t die,” Jayce pleaded to him, stopping himself from pulling out the chunks of metal from the window that were lodged in Viktor, knowing that would only make his blood gush out faster. “You can’t die here, Vik, you can’t.”
A prayer, a plea, a promise.
The two council members exchanged looks before Jayce scooped Viktor into his arms, deciding he couldn’t just let his partner die in this room. Mel only gave a small nod, even though they both knew she was rattled by the events that were unfolding.
Viktor was still holding Mel’s hand as a tear rolled from his eyes, glimmering with the slightest sheen of Shimmer. He was trying to say something, but all he could manage was to spit up his own blood on his ruined clothes.
“Pro–tect th-’em-” Viktor’s voice managed to croak from his throat, causing Mel’s body to freeze even as the heat of the room roasted like an oven around them.
“You’re going to survive, Viktor, you’re going to make it,” Mel tried to reassure not only him, but also Jayce and herself at that moment. Her words made Viktor’s lips twitch into the smallest smile before his eyes closed, his face relaxing as if accepting either her promise or his own death.
“No no no–” Jayce shook his head. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you-!”
Jayce held Viktor’s body close to him as he bolted through the chaotic mess of Enforcers and rushing medical staff coming onto the scene. He needed to get Viktor real help, he wasn’t ready to pass the body over to some masked medical worker.
Even when Viktor went limp and lifeless in his arms, even as blood stained his clothes.
A lifetime flashed before his eyes, a life he knew they didn’t deserve but longed for in his deepest selfishness. Their dream finally fulfilled, exchanging teary vows with matching rings, small patterings of feet running around their own home, and the two of them growing old with grey hair replacing brown.
Jayce wasn’t ready to lose him.
“I’ll never leave you again.”
After a week of planning, the funeral for the fallen from the attack on the council room was a grey and wet affair, and Caitlyn felt the world weighing on her shoulders. She didn’t know if it was her venture across the water that could have triggered such a cataclysmic wave to crash into their lives, or if maybe the harsh words Ekko spoke could have been true-- that Piltover had this coming.
Right now she didn’t want to listen, she didn’t have the heart to listen. It couldn’t have been true.
Grief didn’t allow her to process, to understand.
When she tried to reach out to Jayce for support, all she was met with was a man who seemed too preoccupied to see her pain. Her need for justice for her mother, for Piltover’s peace being ripped away from them with explosive rubble that shook the city.
“I hate them,” she snapped as she and Jayce sat in the gardens with the Ionian trees in bloom, their petals floating down around them. “Jinx had no right to-”
“I know, and we will get justice for your mom… But you can’t just go in with no lay of land, no back up, outgunned and outmanned,” Jayce explained, trying his best to make her see his reason-- but it wasn’t the right reason.
She needed answers and solutions, not excuses.
“They have a weapon that we can’t defend against,” Caitlyn felt those words leave her mouth before it was too late to stop them, she could see Jayce freeze in his spot in the corner of her vision. Honestly, she didn’t care.
“We can't make this some type of race to mutual destruction, Sprout,” Jayce argued back, which only caused the young Kiramman heiress to ball her fists up so her nails dug into the palms of her fingerless gloves.
“You can’t expect me to protect Piltover with manners and my father's rifle, Jayce! All because you want to protect Viktor!” Caitlyn snapped back as she turned her head, her blue eyes locked onto him with anger boiling just under the surface.
Her jaw was clenched as her heartbeat throbbed in her ears. Still the alarms of that day were blaring in her mind as the smell of the smoke flooded her nose and the ashes were clouding her eyes to bring tears. It had been several days since the attack, yet she was still there on that afternoon, standing in the pavilion.
She was going to meet with Jayce after the council, she was only on-site because of her support for his goal for a free Undercity. Yet it was the very people he was fighting for that took her mother, that she wanted to see rotting.
“I feel more than just hatred for Jinx, I want her to feel the same ripping of her heart as I did when I had to look at mother’s face!” Caitlyn lurked forward. “Either it be Silco or Viktor, both! Make her look--”
Now she felt herself go too far, pausing when Jayce’s eyes were wide at the mental image she inflicted.
“Viktor never wanted this, Cait, he’s still–” Jayce’s lip trembled.
Caitlyn pushed herself up from the bench, taking a few steps away to create some distance between them. “But he gave her the gemstone, he fed Silco information from the beginning. There’s no telling how much more damage she's planning on launching our way!”
Jayce turned his head away from her, unable to look at her ire for another second. He couldn’t face the child he once saw as his little sister now being the rightfully enraged woman who had her mother taken from her.
“Silco had enemies, enemies Marcus maybe didn’t have time to kill, maybe some loose ends that didn’t get tied off. Where do you think they ended up?” Jayce asked her and himself, looking at the trunk of the tree with a focused gaze. “I still have many questions too, but the dead can’t speak, and Viktor’s still unconscious.”
“It’s not like Viktor would sell out Jinx,” Caitlyn crossed her arms as her throat tightened. If that man wasn’t Jayce’s closest friend and lover, she wouldn’t hesitate to have him on trial even on his deathbed.
“You’re right, but someone else might. Look, if you take out Jinx or Silco… let me be the one to tell Viktor,” it was a selfish ask, but Jayce was beyond worrying about maintaining his dignity with everything that had happened. ”And please, promise to come back alive.”
“I can’t guarantee that if you’re sending me against someone with an arcane-powered cannon in enemy territory,” Caitlyn countered with a scowl.
Jayce didn’t answer again, just hunching over a bit as he continued to look over at the tree with a glossed, unfocused stare. His mouth opened like he was about to say something, though closed when Caitlyn began to walk away further from him.
She didn’t wait to hear any excuse he could try to feed her, she could bear to listen to his words for another second. It didn’t matter what anyone else would say because she knew deep down that to restore any semblance of peace in Piltover and in herself, she would need to bring down the heads of the beast that allowed Zaun to be born.
First, she needed a guide. She needed someone willing to go fight alongside her.
It wasn’t until she buried herself in the mountain of papers in the disgraced sheriff’s office that she managed to find any semblance of a lead on who to look for. After awhile of flipping through files she had begun to just be thankful to not be getting paper cuts, that was, until she found a broken wax-sealed envelope tucked away with a few other scraps in the back of a drawer.
It shouldn’t have raised flags for her, but it was mixed with some small notes with Viktor’s scribbled handwriting. Caitlyn didn’t stop herself from plucking up the letter and looking over the print from the warden of Stillwater.
‘Marcus,
Prisoner 516 is still giving us quite the trouble, the trencher has sent a few of those Shimmer smuggler suspects to the infirmary with some long lasting injuries. I’m not sure how much longer you plan on keeping this girl here, if you don’t come get this Undercity trash out of my prison soon, there will be a much needed vacancy.’
It was signed from the warden, a plump man she had only met a few times during her training. Either way, this prisoner seemed to have a bone to pick with those smuggling Shimmer, so that was as good of a lead as any.
That was how Caitlyn found herself on a boat across the canal to the island of Stillwater Hold, stepping into the dimly lit facility with her head held high even as her mind raced and raged.
“Officer Kiramman,” the bloke at the front desk nodded his head.
“I need to speak with a prisoner being held here, she may be key for an investigation,” Caitlyn spoke clearly even as a lump in her throat weighed inside. “Prisoner 516, please.”
The man hummed, not bothered; he actually seemed almost amused by the number. “Shouldn’t you be off-duty? Trying to keep distracted?” the man asked as he flipped through his charter.
“I’m trying to bring down the person responsible for attacking our city’s leaders, this prisoner might be helpful,” Caitlyn informed as the man paused, raising a fat brow at her. He chuckled slowly to himself, shaking his head as a weird smile came to his old face.
“Well if she gives you any trouble, then you let me know,” the guard said as he grabbed his cane, which looked more like a well used club. “I can always have a conversation with her again.”
Caitlyn felt that pit in her stomach return, that same emptiness she felt when she saw the decrepitness and desperation of the Undercity the first time.
‘They treat us like animals,’ Ekko’s voice reminded her like the angel on her shoulder, her eyes locked on the club as she thought of what pain the caged humans here endured.
They may have been criminals, but that seemed... No, that was excessive. That was wrong.
“I’m sure that will be unnecessary,” Caitlyn managed to force from her lips. The guard jerked his chin up in a nod, writing down a cell door number on a slip of scrap paper before handing it over to the woman. Caitlyn accepted it, stepping away from the podium and retreating to the elevators to descend down where they held the long term prisoners.
‘516, 516...’ Caitlyn repeated in her mind as her footsteps echoed on the steel floors of the long dark hallway.
She didn’t look into the cells until she stopped at the room with the sequence of numbers scribbled down for her. That's when she saw the back of a pink-haired prisoner who was practicing punches against the solid concrete wall with no regard to her own skin. Caitlyn stood there for a second to watch the woman before swallowing down what hesitation she had.
“Not worried about fracturing your wrist?” Caitlyn asked, making the inmate pause.
The way her shoulders heaved, muscled and sculpted from years of a rough life, took all the breath out of Caitlyn’s lungs. It was then that 516 looked over her shoulder, looking right at Caitlyn with no fear or hesitation.
Another daughter of Zaun, a child of the Undercity.
“Who the hell are you?” the pink haired prisoner asked Caitlyn as keen eyes pierced through her. Caitlyn gave her a look right back, nodding to herself.
Perfect.
Mel slipped away from dropping off fresh flowers to Shoola and Salo at their respective homes when she returned to her own office to speak with Elora. It had been a couple of days since the funeral after the attack, and she seemed to be the only face of the council left to walk in the public light.
Shoola and Salo both were still recovering, both still trying to accept and process their new normal. Shoola now had scarring covering the left side of her face, though her vision was luckily spared. Her ear and hearing did take damage, though it was still too early to declare it a total loss.
Salo’s situation was a bit more grim, his spine suffered notable damage to the point the doctors informed him he’d be bound to a wheelchair for the rest of his life. The most they could offer him was medication for the nerve pain, and recommend physical therapy and counseling to help coach through the grief of this life change.
Still, there were many questions that lurked around the whole situation.
How did Mel and Jayce come out with no injuries?
The Medarda heiress tried not to linger on it for too long, because it bogged her mind down. She couldn’t sleep or rest because all she could think about was the guilt of not being able to save everyone in that room.
“How are they?” Elora asked as she walked into the office with a letter in one hand.
“Barely there, but recovery is on the horizon. The best doctors are looking after both of them,” she answered while turning to look out the window at the city she loved so much. “Salo wants retribution, Shoola seems still in disbelief.”
“I’m not surprised, I can hear Salo already calling for a full sweep through of the Undercity,” Elora’s lips looked tight, unsettled at the box they could be opening.
Mel was silent for a moment as she let her nails drag across the top of her desk, pausing when she looked out the grand window with the Medarda crest framed in gold. “ This is not the Undercity’s doing, just the act of a single troubled person,” Mel stated.
The councilor took another pause to look out at the two cities, feeling almost a sense of guilt in her chest.
Empathy, an open heart that made her the weakest in the eyes of the Medarda clan.
The cities she wanted to protect, the people she wanted to protect. They gave her strength and purpose, they looked to her.
Elora nodded, standing beside her and resting her cheek on Mel’s shoulder. She placed a soft peck on the soft skin before looking up with a slightly guilty and uneasy expression, like a doe.
“What’s that look for?” Mel asked, raising a brow.
“I’m thankful every minute that you lived,” Elora admitted. “Call it selfish if you want, but I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I lost you.”
“You wouldn’t retire?” Mel attempted a joke, trying on a smile. Elora didn’t seem amused, she shook her head in rejection at the idea.
“I’d be wearing black every day of my life, mourning the loss of my world. The sun would never be able to replace the light you brought into my days,” Elora poetically relayed, fluttering her eyes as tears threatened to fall.
A romantic, both of them were absolutely helplessly in love with one another. Elora was Mel’s rose, while she was Elora’s rays of sunshine. Mel kissed Elora’s cheek tenderly in an exchange of affection as her own eyes closed, allowing the two of them to stand in the silence and stillness. They slowly then leaned in, pressing their lips together in a chaste exchange of tongues and lipstick.
A soft hum vibrated from Elora’s throat, a purr radiated from Mel’s. Eyes closed as they enjoyed the morning sun rising high into the sky to shine against the golden decor of the city. In those seconds it didn’t matter about the world outside of that office, they could just enjoy themselves, enjoy one another.
After a few moments they pulled away, Elora gently stroking Mel’s cheek with the side of her finger. Her lips were now slightly tinted thanks to the rich color of her love’s lipstick.
The soft exchange had to evaporate as their duty to the city overtook their want for one another. They could indulge in close entanglement behind the closed doors of Mel’s bedroom at night, though it was clear Elora was deeply unsettled by something.
“I hate to bring even more unnerving news, but this came in,” Elora spoke in a whisper, as if the walls could hear them. She offered Mel the envelope, which she took to inspect the insignia on the broken seal. “I already read it.”
Mossy eyes grew wide, her mouth opened, her heart skipped a beat.
“Her?” Mel asked, swallowing down the burning feeling on her tongue.
No, this was the last ember the city needed on its funeral pyre. They were already on the brink of war with itself, and now--
“She’s coming, already on her way to Piltover the moment she heard of the attack,” Elora summarized the letter, Mel opening it to scan over the written words quickly. Her eyes moved over the parchment at lightning speed before she shot over to look out the window. She knew now at any moment she could see the Noxian fleet making their way to devour the weakness they saw in Piltover.
“This can’t happen, we can’t let her-- what could she want?” Mel asked Elora, asked herself and the emptiness in the shadows.
“Ambessa wants many things, and that fact is terrifying,” Elora reminded. “What do we do?”
Mel put the letter on the table, hugging herself for comfort. Elora slowly reached out, embracing her dearest with her arms wrapping around her stomach. “I need to warn Sky and Jayce,” Mel whispered. “If my mother is coming then she will sniff out their weakness, and Hextech cannot fall into her hands. Not into Noxus.”
And that was how the lone councilwoman found herself in the well-guarded building where Hextech was still being practiced. She was quick to ascend up to their floor, though her legs felt like lead as she got closer and closer to their lab. Mel paused at the large doors, taking a deep breath before knocking to announce her presence. She didn’t try to open it, just waiting to hear footsteps, the unlocking of bolts, and the creaking before lifting her head to see Jayce looking disheveled and tired.
“Mel,” he breathed out, his lips trying to form a weak smile and failing.
“Good morning, Jayce. Is now a good time?” she asked.
“Yes, come on in,” Jayce opened the door just wide enough for her to enter, only to close and lock it behind her like an anxious teen. Mel walked ahead into the lab space, noting the sterile smell of medical devices and the slightest hint of fertilizer. She looked around to see Sky was asleep on their lab couch, which was always a questionably placed piece of furniture.
“Poor dear, she looks exhausted,” Mel remarked, seeing how Sky’s glasses were crooked as they hung off the bridge of her nose. “I came by to talk about something related to Hextech, but we should wait until she’s awake.”
Mel moved to help lay Sky’s head down on the couch, carefully slipping her glasses off her face to place neatly with her journal on the nearby cluttered coffee table. She draped the nearby blanket over the woman’s body, even rubbing her shoulder with a smile.
“That might be awhile, she was up all night taking notes on Viktor’s condition. He’s been remarkably receptive to the tank, though still unresponsive,” Jayce explained as he paced around the makeshift medical bed they had Viktor laid on. His body was hooked up with various wires and tubes, while a blanket was placed over his lower half.
‘You’ve done so much work, I wonder if this is to distract from the pain of it all,’ Mel thought to herself before turning to see Jayce was hunched over some machine that was pumping fluids in and out of Viktor.
“Any updates?” Mel asked as she walked over to him, passing a look over her unconscious friend. It hurt like cold steel piercing her heart to see another one of her loved ones like this, suffering and battered before her.
“The… amputations were rough, but the doctors were quick as can be. They all signed NDA’s, so let's hope they keep to them,” Jayce didn’t look up, eyes transfixed on the readings. Mel nodded sadly, looking down and reaching out to touch Viktor’s forehead. She was gentle as her fingers brushed his skin, feeling his clammy flesh.
His left arm and right leg, parts of his skin necrotic from Shimmer eating away at his insides, all had to be removed due to the unrepairable damage. His flesh was cauterized and sterilized, then bandaged in gauze.
“He’ll come back to us,” she spoke softly, though there was conviction in her voice that made Jayce look up from the beeping machine.
Again, the thoughts about those split moments that made no sense played in her head. Somehow, the three of them were saved. That blast should have killed all three of them, yet they survived. Yes, Viktor was gravely injured, but he was alive all the same.
He was going to make it.
‘You have to make it,’ Mel thought, a tear rolling down her cheek as she pulled away. ‘You can’t leave us.’
Jayce’s eyes got wide, and Mel felt something shift. Out of her peripheral vision she could see the sheets move, and as she turned her head she saw Viktor turning his head with his eyes open.
He was looking at them, the Shimmer in his eyes now had bled into the whites around his iris while the gold returned with a fiery glow.
“... Incredible,” Viktor’s voice croaked from his dry lips as he lifted his arm up to Mel, touching her hand even as the wires attached to him made his movements clunky. “There’s so much… I wish to ask you,” Viktor’s eyes felt heavy as he rested back against the pillow, though his lips parted more naturally.
A few days had passed since the Jinx’s bomb broke the peace Piltover once felt. Silco laid on the couch in the office with his face buried into the back cushion, allowing himself to be drowned in the smell of sour sweat that had soaked into the fibers. His back was turned to the two women, even as both of them were trying to talk to him.
“How long are you going to just sulk there?” Sevika asked the man, not even looking over as the girl sitting in his chair held her knees close to her chest. She didn’t want to look at the shark shaped rocket laying across the desk, preferring to pretend it didn’t exist than to think about what damage it unleashed. Unable to contain the bubbling annoyance of having to pick up the pieces for Jinx and Silco, she raised her voice again, “Both of you need to snap out of this! Topside is locking everything down, and they’re going to be here looking for someone to drag out for this!”
Neither answered, both like stiff statues locked in time.
Sevika let out a groan as she rubbed at her temples, feeling the tension building of an approaching migraine about to overflow. It had been days of this somber attitude while the people of the Undercity were now fully embracing the anarchy.
Piltover was too chicken shit to come across the bridge now, the chem barons were tightening hold on their territory, and Silco was holing up in The Last Drop like a king about to be executed.
“How do you even know Viktor was in that room?” Sevila finally snapped out of frustration, and his name sent a shockwave that devoured the oxygen in the room. Jinx’s head lifted slightly, tilting to the side like an observant bird waiting in the rafters. Her eyes were wide, though looked permanently bloodshot from the Shimmer and her crying.
“I don’t…” Jinx admitted. “But he might as well be, he’d never want to see me again after what I did.”
Silco hugged himself tighter, “Don’t say that, Jinx. I failed the boy, I failed both of you-”
“Oh, give me a break,”Sevika tossed her head to the side. “All three of you are a cluster fuck, but you’re cut from the same damn cloth as the rest of us. Don’t go giving me this pity party shit when you know just as well as I do that you two are getting exactly what you deserve.”
Jinx flinched, but accepted it, “Yeah, well it’s not like Viktor’s a saint!”
“I never said that, now did I?” Sevika challenged. “I’ve always hated that spineless Topside-suck up.”
“He knew Vi was alive this whole time!” Jinx snapped, which made Sevika tense up. Her jaw felt tight and wound as she searched the teen’s face for an ounce of anger.
Nothing, all there was left was just hurt and desperation. Longing for answers.
“You’re right, he kept secrets from you, from all of us. He kept secrets from them too, he wasn’t on anyone’s side but his own. Right now we need to forget about whatever game he was playing, and think about what we need to do to take care of our own,” Sevika declared, though her words seemed to fall on an unwilling crowd.
Silco didn’t move from his spot, though his knees buckled slightly. Sevika could see the small twitches in the man, how weak and defeated he looked.
“I’m not going to stick around here and clean up either of your messes. I didn’t stay here all these years to watch it all be thrown away,” Sevika couldn’t keep the last bit of pleading and anger from dripping off her tongue as she turned on her heel to leave the office. “Someone has to help lead Zaun if neither of you will.”
Her boots were heavy on the floorboards, the door slammed and rattled the stain glass encased inside. Jinx and Silco were alone, sitting in silence as they listened to the one person who actually stayed by their side leave out their life.
They sat in silence for either seconds or minutes, neither knew.
Jinx tucked her head back into her knees, her shoulders jerking and trembling as she began to cry again. She had lost Viktor, Vi was alive somewhere in Runeterra, and Silco would never be able to forgive her.
And now Sevika was done with them.
And now… even the voices were so quiet.
No Mylor or Claggor. No Vander or Vi.
Would Viktor’s voice replace them? Would his ghost now be the shadow always egging her on, pushing her further like the ones she lost all those years ago.
Suddenly the warmth of arms pulled her into the shallow chest of a welcoming body, shaking her from the haunting thoughts that were encroaching on her mind. Her eyes blinked back to awareness as she looked up, seeing Silco standing by her side with a tear streaked face.
His hair was loose and unkempt, his makeup smudged to the point his scars were now fully on display. No sparks of fight or retribution were left in that warped one, it wasn’t the one that Jinx focused on. No. It was the seafoam blue one, the one framed by bloodshot pinks and popped blood vessels from crying, the eye of a broken father.
“I can’t lead Zaun like this,” Silco admitted as he embraced the girl close to his chest. “Not until I know for certain whether your brother is gone or not.”
Jinx’s body twitched as she tried to pull away, but his arms held her close so he couldn’t.
“But I will not let Piltover take you away from me, I will not let anyone take my daughter too,” Silco promised to her, leaning down and kissing the top of her head as hot tears rolled into her hair. “I’d let them take all of Zaun before they ever even look at you.”
“I killed Viktor-” Jinx shook, but Silco squeezed her tighter. The others whose lives she took that day didn’t weigh on her mind, only the horrific mangled mental image of her brother appeared prevalent.
Their names spread across Piltover and Zaun like wildfire, though no one spoke the names of any non-council members who may have been caught in the crossfire. They still had no word from Viktor, no news on his whereabouts or conduction.
“Don’t say that,” It wasn’t an order, it was a desperate beg from a father. “We don’t know that, we don’t know that. Sevika might be right…”
‘Children die everyday here…’ his own voice echoed in his mind as he remembered his last spat with Viktor before he left. Silco felt his heart and stomach twist together as they dropped down into his pelvis.
‘But he wasn’t here, he died over there. He should have been safe,’ Silco felt himself think as he hugged Jinx. ‘No, neither of them are safe anywhere, no matter where they go. The children of Zaun may never know peace.’
“He loved you,” Silco whispered. “You were his sister, and nothing changes that.”
“But… would he love me now?” Jinx asked, the question loaded with branching possibilities.
What damage did she do in her attack? Did she kill Talis? Did she kill any of his friends?
Silco didn’t have an answer right then, he just held her as she closed her eyes and let her legs relax. She listened to his heart beat, the grumbling of his stomach from his refusal to eat out of sorrow, and the chattering of the people outside loving their faux freedom.
“If Viktor was here right now, what would you say to him? Would you ask him a question? Would you apologize?” Silco asked, which made Jinx huff.
“Geez, you sound like a mom,” she remarked as they pulled away, Silco sitting on the desk while being mindful of Fishbones. She made a slight thinking face, her bottom lip pouting as she tossed her head to the side. Her brows twitched and her expression changed slightly, almost as if she was relaxing and being more like herself, yet different.
Not Powder, not Jinx. Just herself.
“I’d tell him I’m sorry I smacked him silly, I’m not sorry for blasting Topside-- they had that coming, and then… ask him where Vi is,” Jinx’s tone shifted from light hearted to serious quickly. Silco nodded, looking down at Jinx sitting in his chair like the little girl he still saw her as. He then looked over her head, over the back of the chair through the large, circular green stained glass window.
“What about you? What would you say or ask him?” Jinx asked him back.
The question now thrown back at him, Silco hummed in slight thought as he pictured what it would be like seeing Viktor once again. Dressed like a carbon copy of himself, limping with that crutch Talis had forged for him by hand, face worn from overworking in the lab.
“I’d tell him that he was perfect, that both of you are perfect. That I never should have tried to push him away, tried to change either of you, that I love both of you,” Silco told Jinx. “That… I can never apologize enough for what I’ve done, and if there was a way to go back to do it over-- I would find a way to learn the power to forgive so I could have done right by you both.”
The girl blinked at him, snorting slightly as she nudged his knee with her boot. “Geez, sentimental much?”
He raised his brow, but didn’t move as she lightly pushed on his leg like a child. Jinx pushed herself up, grabbing at the handle of Fishbones as she walked around the desk.
“Come on, let's go get Sevika back before she goes to try and get the other chem barons for some faux council or some shit. Then maybe we can look for Vi? And Sicky Vicky? And, oh, I should proooobably hide Fishbones here,” Jinx rambled and remarked, which honestly made Silco smile. He reached for his syringe for a dose of Shimmer before they headed out, but then paused.
No. They’d all had enough of that for now.
“I’m right behind you, Jinx,” Silco nodded, rubbing the grime of sleeplessness from his face as he followed his daughter.
He didn’t know where they would go, how they would survive, or what struggles were awaiting them; but he knew he had an endless toll to pay to the girl. Silco would bite his tongue through the pain that festered and ate at his eye, there wouldn’t be time or resources for them to keep up with Shimmer regardless.
Might as well switch his priorities now, before he pushed away another child.
Days transitioned into weeks, and the Hextech name almost became just gossip around housewife circles and closed academic boardrooms. While Sky was often busy being the face and leader of the company, Jayce slowly let himself sink back into what he really loved.
The lab, science, innovation.
It was an early morning, with smoke blowing in from Zaun after a chill rain had passed through. Jayce was doing his best to avoid as many people as he could on his way to the lab, barely even able to slip out of his own home without his neighbors trying to give him well wishes and words of support. He was just focused on getting back to the place where everything made sense, where he could drown himself in logic and reason.
As he unlocked the lab, he heard clattering of metal and the buzzing of the soldering iron. The green glow illuminated the figure of Sky working over some delicate tubing to the Green House project. Her face looked energized and radiant as she honed in, completely focused, on the tiniest details of her work.
“Good morning,” Jayce spoke as he locked the doors behind him, even latching the bolt for good measure.
Sky stopped what she was doing to turn to Jayce, smiling at him while powering down the device she was using on her fine tuning. She noticed the flat box Jayce had tucked against his arm with the Medarda symbol on the side, though she didn’t bother to ask him about it just yet.
“Good morning,” She answered back, though the buzzing of electricity was still a little loud.
The pair looked over to the third figure in the room, which made Jayce emit a calm and tender smile as he headed over towards the glowing orange light. He placed the box next to the other figure, who momentarily stopped the high power, heated laser emitting from the third arm coming from his back.
“Bright eyed and bushy tailed as always,” the figure, with his accented voice, spoke. He turned his head to look at Jayce with gleaming, golden eyes that glowed in the dimly lit lab. The Hexclaw fully powered down its assisting laser while Viktor turned off his own soldering iron.
Jayce moved over to Viktor, placing a kiss on the top of his head while making sure to feel his shoulders. One made of metal and the other of flesh, their new normal. He looked at what his partner was already working on for the morning, seeing his new left leg’s panel was open for maintenance and upgrades.
A prosthetic leg replacing the one they had to cut away from the damage he sustained, one that didn’t tire or fall out from under him. Viktor teasingly dubbed it his ‘Hexleg’, though Sky or Jayce couldn’t seriously look him in the eyes when he called it that. Viktor mentioned that they could name his next leg, though Jayce refused to call the prosthetic arm he designed with Sky the ‘Hexarm’. Much to Viktor’s dismay.
“Would you like some tea?” Jayce asked, closing his eyes as he inhaled the sweet smell of whatever products Sky had brought for Viktor’s hygiene.
Viktor hummed softly at the idea, “If you’re already making some, then I won’t say no to a cup.”
His voice had this robotic twinge as he spoke, though Jayce wouldn’t complain. His partner, his lover, was alive and here with him; and they were back to pursuing a new and reinvigorated dream. Jayce stepped back, “And one for you, Sky?”
“Yes, please,” Sky answered as she went right back to working on the tubes that fed from the tank to Viktor’s machine body.
“Alright, three cups of tea, coming right up,” Jayce called out, moving aside as their day began to start up. A trio of scientists working on a new frontier, locked in their lab well away from the council building and prying eyes.
“And then it’s back to work,” Viktor chuckled as he craned his neck a bit, the lights lining up his throat glowing as he stretched.
Jayce paused to take a moment to admire the man before him, part machine and part flesh. His other half, his partner, all alive and present. He didn’t waste long returning with cups of tea before sitting next to Viktor to reach for the box he had brought.
“Progress waits for no one, we have lots to get working on,” Jayce nodded, then looked over at Sky, who was smiling at them.
“As the head of Hextech I think that was my call, Jayce,” Sky teased lightly, getting a sheepish look from the taller man. “And as president of this enterprise, I would like to kindly remind both of you to keep workplace flirting to a minimum.”
“Right, sorry, Miss Young,” the formalities made Viktor snort just slightly as a return to a new normalcy seemed to settle among the three.
With Sky turning back to the big tank in the room, Jayce nudged Viktor’s metal arm with his elbow to get his attention. The light nudge jostled the mechanical limb, making the Zaunite turn his head to look at his partner with a slightly amused glance.
“Yes?” Viktor’s accent rolled off his tongue as he faced Jayce.
The light caught all the scars and small metal plates that rested on Viktor’s skin, the vents indented into his face that were carved down from the apples of his cheekbones to his jawline. His face was a marvel of metal and science, something Jayce never thought he would gaze at with such love and adoration.
“I got what you asked for, but I’m not sure why you wanted one,” Jayce said as he slid the box a little closer to Viktor, who then reached to open the lid.
“Because as much as I wish to spend my days perfecting these new augments, I also want to be able to test them,” Vktor explained.
“So…?” Jayce trailed off as Viktor opened the box, both taking a second to examine the mask that matched the same gunmetal steel color of the augments on Viktor’s body. Viktor smiled softly as he took one of Jayce’s hands into his metal grip, careful with his new digits to not crush his lover’s palm on his own.
“So how about we go on a date?” Viktor asked as he then raised the Noxian mask to his face. The glowing of his unnatural eyes reflected on the rims of the silver eye holes, his identity was now concealed behind the metal plates.
Jayce smiled back, leaning in and pressing his forehead to the cold metal. He could still smell the salt and sweat on Viktor’s hair, the soft floral scents of the shampoo Sky gave him and the fertilizer odor that had lingered in the life support tank.
With his heart on his sleeve and his mind at ease, he couldn’t stop himself from pushing back the worries of the growing threats outside the walls of their lab. “I know the perfect place. The tree’s in bloom, too.”
War, revolution, and progress could wait for one afternoon.