"Viktor!"
Pain
"Viktor, what did you do!?"
He opened one eye. Well, tried to open both, but Viktor found himself unable to open his left eye. The scent of copper in the air, the taste of iron on his tongue... he frowned. Smacking his lips, he swallowed as the doors to his apartment rattled.
Something was wrong. Right?
"Viktor, open this door right now, or I swear I'll break it down!"
Viktor tried to sit up, roll out of his bed. Weakly, he groaned as he flopped onto the unforgiving hardwood floor. No, not his bed, the couch. Why was he on the couch?
"Jayce, do you not have a key?"
Ah, Mel's voice, most excellent. She was a clever one, maybe she could explain to Viktor why the room was spinning.
There was a muted click of a key working the lock, and then the vision rattling boom of the door being thrown open.
"Viktor, answer me coward, why did you sell- Oh gods, Victor!"
All of a sudden, Viktor found himself being cradled by strong arms. A soft gasp came from where he surmised the front door might be, then the swift snap of said door being ushered closed.
"Ah Jayce," he mumbled, and frowned at the way his words sounded slurred. "Pardon me, I'll go put tea on." Though, rather than rise from where he was, Viktor found himself just sort of drifting off, like he was going back to sleep.
"Viktor, Viktor focus," light slaps to his cheeks brought some clarity back to Viktor's eye, and he blinked again, looking up into the concerned face of Jayce and Mel.
"You two really do make a lovely couple," he whispered, and Jayce flushed.
"Viktor, focus, please. What happened? Did Bolbok do this?"
The name brought memories of the night before rushing back, of hurried denials, carefully controlled punches, and something oh so very vital being ripped away.
Eye wide, Viktor tried to sit up, looking around for his armor, the fragments of arcane power that he'd taken for granted.
There, on the floor, the two thin plates of black metal, his greaves. Shakily, he raised his hand, and pointed.
While Jayce just stared dumbly, Mel snapped up the two segments of armor and passed them to Viktor. He snorted, the laugh of a weak man, but even just holding the rune etched plate gave him some strength. Of course it did, the armor wanted to be worn.
"Jayce, a little help, please?"
He held out one of the greaves, and Jayce took it from him, marveling at the acid-etched metal. "So this is what you wore that reacted to the sensor, crap! Viktor, the magic sensor, why did you give it to Bolbok?! Why didn't you dispose of it?"
Even as he asked his questions, Jayce worked to roll up one of Viktor's trouser legs, strapping the greave on with brisk, economical motions. As the buckles snapped into place, Viktor felt the power flood his system, his connection to the Hexcore restored more fully.
Coughing, he sat up, and set about putting on the other greave. "Jayce, I had taken it apart, but when I had a figurative gun to my head... or maybe it was a literal gun, my memory of last night is hazy. As for giving it to Bolbok, well, how agreeable do you think I was, given the state you found me in?"
"There is a rather hefty purse of coin sitting on your dining room table, next to a signed bill of sale, Viktor."
Jayce looked over at Mel, fury in his eyes, but Viktor quickly slapped one hand over his best friend's mouth. "Mel, as cold as I may seem somedays, even at my most apathetic and bitter, I would not turn mercenary when it comes to helping the Council demonize a new selection of souls."
Slowly, Mel nodded, and turned her back on the two of them, calling over one shoulder, "I'll put some tea on while I try to come up with a legal challenge that will hold together in the face of this farce of a sale."
Viktor pulled his hand away from Jayce's face, and refocused on buckling the second greave. "I take it that's her way of saying she believes me?"
His friend laughed, nearly sobbed, and threw his arms around Viktor's shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug.
"A yes would have sufficed, Jayce, you can let go-"
"Nearly lost you," the hulking councilman mumbled, and Viktor blinked his one good eye.
"Well, unless you crush my chest, you won't lose me now. Now ease up, it occurs to me I have blood on my face and this simply won't stand."
For another moment, Jayce held him close, and Viktor wondered if he'd have to speak up again. Before he could, his friend let him go, standing to help Viktor to his feet.
"I don't see your cane anywhere around..."
With a shrug, Viktor started walking toward his small bathroom, his stride unhurried and unaided. "Amazing what a few runes can do for a body, no?"
Coldwater spat and trickled from the faucet, and before long Viktor had cleaned off his face. His reflection in the mirror above the sink was not a pretty one. While he had cleaned the blood from the cut in his brow, his left eye was still swollen shut. Other bruises and abrasions dotted his body, including a truly nasty purple blotch along his right side.
With a sigh, Viktor tossed aside what had been a perfectly good button-up, and pulled on his bathrobe. The soft blue and green flannel robe was in no way, shape, or form the appropriate garment for entertaining guests.
Viktor found himself caring not in the slightest.
Opening the bathroom door, the smell of fresh tea and only slightly stale sugar cookies greeted him, along with a bemused-looking Mel and somewhat aghast Jayce.
He raised one hand, warding off whatever Jayce was going to say with a wave, "I'm not going to make you sit and wait while I rummage around for a fresh shirt. You came here with purpose and concerns, let's get that tidied away first and foremost."
"First and foremost, we're glad you're okay," Mel started, her voice smooth as she poured up three cups of tea. Viktor settled down on his lumpy, second-hand couch, and accepted one of the cups.
"I wish I had the nerve to stop him. But, well, the drive to preserve one's own life is a strong one."
"Do you have any theory as to who told him about it? What the sensor, well, sensed?"
Viktor almost waved away Jayce's question, but with teacup in hand, he refrained from the gesture. "Well, my money would be on a rat within our department. Someone must have seen the equations, or the spare parts. Never let it be said that we kept a staff of dullards around."
Jayce and Mel nodded, Viktor doubted he was saying anything they hadn't thought of before. He took a sip of his tea, and hummed appreciatively, "Oo, that's quite good. Any other questions, or is it my turn?"
Mel waved one hand, conceding the imaginary floor to Viktor, "Ask away, though as always, questions may provoke questions."
A chuckle all around, and Viktor nodded, "Very well. I suppose the first question I have is how did Bolbok use the sensor?"
Jayce snarled, anger waring with shame on his face, "He outed me as a... mage, I guess, to the whole Council. My vote against calling for foreign aid to help deal with Jinx was null and void thanks to that, and I have no doubt my 'condition' will be used to selectively discount any future votes I make against Bolbok's interests."
Viktor blinked, and set his teacup down. "Foreign aid to deal with Jinx?" His eyes flicked to Mel, and she shook her head. "Good guess, and Salo raised Noxus as a potential, hmm, resource, but no. Demacian aid."
Silence, grave and disquieting, blanketed the trio, and after a moment, Viktor slowly rose from his seat. Moving over to a bookshelf, he pushed aside a few dog-eared tomes, and pulled out the bottle of undercity whiskey stashed there.
Splashing a healthy measure of whiskey into his teacup, Viktor left the bottle on the table, Jayce and Mel following his lead to fortify their own drinks.
Tipping his cup back, Viktor let the undercity liquor burn down his throat, the socially acceptable poison working quickly to warm his suddenly cold self.
"Fuck," he sighed, setting down his empty cup.
"Mm, indeed," muttered Jayce, leaving his own impromptu cocktail half-finished.
"So, what do we do?"
Mel slowly stood up, and collected the teapot and three cups. "I'll go brew a fresh pot of tea," she said, loudly. Then, without looking at either of them, she stiffly walked out of the living room, her tred remarkably heavy on the old wooden floorboards.
Viktor waited until Mel was out of earshot, or at least far enough away for plausible deniability. He hunched forward and whispered, "We have to get out of the city."
"How? We're publically known figures, we can't just charter an airship and leave like that," and Jayce snapped his fingers.
"Is the lockdown that tight? My memory was that it was simply the creation of a border dividing our fair city in half."
Jayce ran one hand over his face, mumbling, "Officially, yes, that's all that happened. But the procedures for exiting and entering city limits, the ones everyone skips because they reduce profits? Those are being enforced, in full."
Viktor sucked in a breath through his teeth, and ran his own hand over his face. "That does complicate things. Does Clan Talis have any private vessels? A small pleasure skiff? Luxury air yacht?"
A snort, and Jayce shook his head. "Even with the wealth Hextech has brought our clan, we're not quite that rich, Viktor."
With a shrug, Viktor settled back into the couch, and sighed. "Well, it was worth a shot."
"Mmm."
"Suppose there's not much else to do if we can't hire an airship or boat."
"Mmm."
"I'll go get my armor on, you get your hammer and kiss Mel goodbye. Meet you after sunset, a few blocks away from Founder's bridge?"
"Mm- What?!" Jayce choked out, sputtering on his own words.
Viktor frowned, "What do you mean, what? You said it yourself, we can't stay here. So we're going to force our way past the blockade, and take shelter from Bolbok's madness in the undercity."
Jayce's jaw wagged in mute horror, and Viktor briefly pondered the phrase 'struck dumb' in comparison to the face Jayce was making.
But after a moment, a frown settled on Jayce's features, and he put his head in his hands. "Is there no other way? Nothing else besides crude violence?"
Viktor slouched down further, tapping one foot as he grimaced. "Jayce, I know you would rather not resort to it, but it's not like we can just teleport ourselves across the blockade."
A flicker of hazel light crossed Viktor's vision, and he rubbed his eyes. For a moment, it had looked like Jayce's eyes had been glowing.
"That's it. That's it! A miniature Hexgate! Viktor, do you have a map of the city? A pencil, paper, I need paper!"
Viktor blinked, but got up from the couch, pulling scrap paper and a pencil from the cluttered surface of a much-scarred table by the window. He passed the articles of writing to Jayce, watching over one of his friend's broad shoulders.
With deft, confident strokes, Jayce plotted out the arithmetheurgical equations, leaving blanks for where the destination coordinates would neatly slot into the sorcerous formula.
"Jayce that's... inspired. Color me impressed."
The councilman beamed as he set down the pencil, "Thanks. It will take a week, maybe a bit more, to assemble the portal, especially if we have to keep it under wraps."
Viktor nodded, "An absolute necessity. If the rat in our department gets wind of this, or Heimerdinger puts two and two together, we'll be in quite a bit of trouble, to put it mildly."
From the kitchen, the tea pot shrilled, and Jayce quickly stuffed the equation-filled paper into his jacket.
Not a moment later, Mel entered the living room, tea in hand, "I'd ask if you two had a nice talk, but I don't want to know."
She sat down, and poured each cup a half measure of tea, splashing whiskey into hers before passing Viktor the bottle.
Jayce opted to simply finish filling his cup from the teapot, and for a moment, the three of them sat in a more comfortable silence.
Silence broken when Jayce set his tea down with a small clatter, nodding to himself. Turning to Mel, Jayce had on his best puppy dog eyes, forlorn in his whisper, "You don't have to stay."
If Viktor had so much as blinked he might have missed it, the moment that Mel's facade cracked. For that instant, she looked frightened, sad, hurt. Then, the walls went back up, and she simply looked resolute.
"I have to stay. Have to try and limit the poor choices being made."
She shrugged and knocked back the rest of her cocktail, before squaring her shoulders, "I am who I am, beloved, and I will struggle against this rising tide, as futile as it may be."
"Be safe," blurted Viktor, before he clapped one hand over his mouth. "Um, excuse me, I know you'll be safe, you're perfectly capable and I have no doubts that-"
A polite laugh, friendly and free of any trace of mockery, rang through the small living room. As Mel laughed, Jayce just favored Viktor with the same winning grin that had made him such a perfect face for Hextech. "Thank you. We'll all be safe, we'll all be fine."
There was an air of pleading to Jayce's voice, that no one failed to notice, but that no one dared to comment on.
Viktor leaned over the coffee table and waggled the half-empty whiskey bottle. "There are still a few good drams left. Let's just... talk of kinder days. For a little while, at least."
Nods and smiles were exchanged, and Viktor sat back, teacup in hand. Raising it just a bit in the air, he toasted the end of his days in Piltover, the falling of the curtain on his life as the weak, sickly Viktor.
As his run scarred skin itched and twitched under his robes, he smiled, only half-listening to whatever story Jayce was spinning of his exploits as a youth.
He did not know from where the feeling came, the certainty, but Viktor knew it would be time soon.
The time of his transcendence was soon.