Synthetic

Prologue

TW // Angst, Brief suicidal thoughts

---

Viktor thought he knew what loneliness was.

What loneliness felt like.

A deep, clawing, intimate feeling that wormed its way into your chest and made itself a home- nearly so close and dear that you weren't lonely anymore, because the feeling would always be with you. Viktor remembered sitting on the sand of the pond, a ways away from the children his age screaming and jumping into the water. The youth were uncaring of the toxins, or the air, just that they were with each other and having fun. And Viktor was with them, at least, in his mind, as he sat leagues away, his homemade toy boat keeping him company. From here he could imagine himself among them as he tinkered, screwing in bolts and connecting wires as he bathed in their laughter. Sometimes, when he was feeling bold, he'd stare, brows turned up in wonder of what could've been. Once, one of the kids made eye contact with him, but just as he offered a tentative smile, they turned away, back to their friends, ignoring him entirely. He decided after that, for reasons unrelated, he would move down to the ravines.

And he was alone again.

Until he met the Scientist and Rio, in the dark, glowing caves that one wouldn't've noticed unless you knew where they were. The flowers that shone like amethysts littering the cave, thriving in the less than ideal conditions. Viktor thought he found his place there. He wouldn't need the children up top, who ignored him like he was lint on their shoes, when he had his mentor and something to care for. Willful ignorance, it was. He was so happy to be somewhere he was wanted, he ignored the signs. Ignored how Rio's scales dulled, the animals movements slugging over time, the Scientist's methods cruel in a way they weren't before. But Viktor had to wake up eventually, and when he did, the loneliness returned, slinking back with him to his family home.

Then he began noticing the whispers of inventions and commotion and The Academy .

He decided he'd go, there must be people like him there, right? People who'd cure his loneliness, who'd extend a hand. His mother, whom he looked much too alike, stared at him as he tied his uniform tie. Something he'd scrounged and saved up for, and a small, innocuous bag filled with his meager belongings. He hadn't officially enrolled in The Academy, they didn't take people from the Undercity, but things like that hadn't stopped him before. What did stop him, however, were his mothers words. They were melancholic, lonely , and Viktor flinched as she touched his cheek, wishing he hadn't inflicted those emotions upon her.

"Moje hvězda, please," she begged, and Viktor turned away from her eyes, deep and golden like his own, " be realistic ."

Viktor didn't want to be realistic . Being realistic meant staying at home for the rest of his life, fixing machines or toys people brought to him, and dying young, without a friend or legacy to his name. So no, Viktor didn't want to be realistic, and he kissed his mother goodbye, heading to the bridge and dawning a new day.

A new, boring, lonely day.

Even in his bright eyed and bushy tailed naivete, Viktor realized that none of the Academy students spoke like him. Their accents were refined, and they spoke in a roundabout way that confused him, a far-cry from his way of speaking, blunt and heavy, turning his o's into u's and his i's into e's. So he didn't speak, or else he would be found out and perhaps imprisoned. Keeping his head down was easy, he'd done it all his life. Nothing had changed. But apparently not speaking to anyone, consistently turning in projects on time, and receiving near perfect scores was something that drew attention. People whispered in the hall as he passed by, Professors recommending him for internships he couldn't accept, and life continued on. All of the attention finally came to a head, like a trolley careening to the side and hitting a building that represented Viktor's life.