#hexcore arcane

“Right here, silly.” Sky smiled, appearing from the fog and walking towards him. “What did I tell you about fixing your sleep schedule?”

Viktor stared at her. “How is this possible? You shouldn’t— I saw you— your—“

“Does it matter? We’re here now. You’re overthinking.” Sky looked exactly as she had before she turned to ash.

“I’m sorry,” Viktor blurted. Whatever this was, however this happening, he had to say it. Once the words started, they kept tumbling out. “I… the Hexcore… I did not think it would take a life. I thought you had gone home for the night. I thought I was alone, that I was the only one at risk. I never wanted anyone to be hurt. I am sorry I did not notice you. That night and… before. You did not deserve to pay the price for my mistakes. It should have been me.”

Sky shook her head. “There is nothing to apologize for. I live on, here.” She smiled again, an eager light in her eyes. “Don’t you feel it? The power of this place? The energy? The magic? Everything you wanted can be yours. I can help you get it.”

Viktor took a breath, and realized his lungs were clear. There was no tightness, no urge to cough. The energy she spoke of surged through him. The possibilities at his fingertips were endless. “How?”

“The Hexcore. You were right, Viktor! You were always right. I knew from the moment I met you that you would do wonderful things!”

Viktor frowned. “But it hurt you. I cannot risk that it will hurt others.”

Sky took a step closer. “Piltover never accepted you, never respected you. With the Hexcore, you could bring the city down. Make those arrogant pilties worship the ground you walk on and beg for your mercy. The Undercity could rise above.”

His stomach dropped. He took a step back on the non-existent ground. “You are not Sky. Neither of us would want that. What are you?”

Her expression went cold. “You never asked. You barely took the time to know me. We were both ignored, pushed aside, looked down on. Don’t you think they should pay for that?”

Perhaps he didn’t know her as well as he wished, but this… this seemed a step too far. Sky had always been kind, gentle, patient. Something was wrong. Very wrong. Viktor tripped over the tendrils, barely catching himself before he could fall. “You are not Sky,” he repeated. “Who are you? What do you want?”

Not-Sky tsked. “You are smarter than we thought,” she said, her voice echoing. “I am her memories, the memories that exist within what you call the Hexcore. She did truly care for you, you know, and you ignored her at every turn.” She tilted her head to the side. “We want knowledge, power, the same things you want. We can help each other. All it takes is sacrifice, more blood and more…” She paused, as if searching for the word, “Shimmer.”

“And if I refuse?”

“One way or another, you will join us. It would be best if you did so willingly. Think about it.”

Everything vanished in a bright purple flash, followed by a deep darkness.

Viktor jerked awake with a violent cough, hitting his leg on the desk. His heartbeat, the thrumming of the Hexcore, and the pulsing of his altered limbs were in perfect sync. Perhaps it was only a nightmare, but something about it felt far too real.

~*~

“You want the secrets of magic? I can show you,” Not-Sky offered. “I have access to memories of many mages over the years. Join me, and those memories will be yours as well.”

Brief flashes of runes and mages passed too quickly to follow. The tantalizing glimpse left him wanting more. Yearning to understand, to harness the power for good. No books could replace the first-hand experience of a master. This was the opportunity of a lifetime, one that very few could possibly see.

But the price was too much. This thing that he created was far too volatile to be trusted. He couldn’t.

~*~

Viktor worked in the lab during his waking hours. Testing equations and rune combinations, sketching designs, tinkering with whatever was on hand. He carved more rune-plates, although he wasn’t exactly sure what for. They could always be useful for something, or so he told himself.

After coughing blood into a handkerchief, his altered hand tossed it at the Hexcore. An offering, however small. He wasn’t sure if he meant to.

The Hexcore absorbed it and spun faster, its light glowing brighter. It almost sounded like a laugh, echoing and garbled.

~*~

The infinite purple fog was replaced with a vast landscape. A dark sea stretched out in the distance. Everything was twisted, metallic with an inner purple glow. There were creatures too, mutated beings made of the same substances; with too many limbs or not enough. Some had human parts mixed with animal or insect, but none seemed natural by any means. The ruins of a city, growing spines and bioluminescent fungus, somehow alive but not. Everything about it was wrong, corrupt, otherworldly— but there was a strange beauty to it beyond the horror.

“See? This could be Piltover,” Not-Sky said, gesturing to the spires. “Help me take it. Let me recreate it. The people will never harm you again. Those that are left will see you as a god, honor you with the respect you deserve.”

Viktor shook his head, dread pooling in his stomach. “This is not what I want. Stop. Please.”

Not-Sky only smiled. “I know you, Viktor. I see into your mind. Deep down, I know you want to see them suffer as your people have suffered. I can make that happen.”

“No!” Viktor wrenched himself free of the vision. His altered limbs burned. He screamed.

~*~

Viktor couldn’t sleep. Every time he left the lab, he found himself right back again, trapped under the unnatural light of the Hexcore. It whispered to him, promises of power and knowledge and life unending. Sometimes he came up with excuses to be in the lab, something he had to work on, something he needed to finish before he ran out of time. Other times it was as if his altered limbs were drawn to it like a magnet, dragging him back against his will. His mind was foggy, dreams and reality blended together. He swore the tendrils were spreading across his body, slowly but surely. He was running out of reasons to defy it.

~*~

There were far too many Council meetings in Jayce’s opinion. War or peace, weapons or treaties, profit or lives, round and round in circles they went and nothing was ever decided— even if the solution seemed obvious to him. How could a government function like this? Mel should have known he didn’t have the mind for it, but now the city’s fate was his responsibility.

Jayce took a breath and opened the door to the lab, Hextech hammer in hand. He had made a promise. He intended to keep it. “Viktor?” he called, squinting in the odd purple light. Gods, how could he work in this darkness?

“I do not want to play these games,” Viktor said dully, hunched over his desk like a gargoyle. His complexion was ghostly pale in the unnatural light, his frame skeletal.

A chill went down Jayce’s spine. Something was very wrong. “What are you talking about? What’s wrong?”

Viktor scoffed. “One day you are Sky, another you are Jayce. I know neither are returning.” The words cut like a knife. He had waited too long.

Jayce rushed to his partner’s side. “Viktor, it’s me! I’m right here. I’m sorry. I know I should have come sooner, but… I’m here now.” He reached out to put a hand on Viktor’s shoulder.

Viktor froze, then blinked up at him. “You’re… here.” His expression flickered from confusion to relief to panic. “You should go. It isn’t… isn’t safe.” He tried to shove Jayce’s arm off, but his strength was frighteningly little.

“I told you I’d destroy it. Is that still something you want?” Jayce asked, lowering his voice but making sure to meet Viktor’s gaze.

Viktor nodded, cautiously. As if afraid of his response.

Jayce flashed a reassuring smile. “Then that’s what I’ll do. Stay back.” He backed away and lined up his shot. If anything could destroy it, surely a blast from the hammer would do the trick. If not, they would find another way. He took a breath and pressed the trigger.

Viktor screamed, an anguished bloodcurdling sound, and suddenly lunged at him. The hammer was thrown off course as he fell. The blast hit the ceiling with a resounding crash.

Jayce landed on his back, the wind knocked out of him. Viktor clawed at him with mindless fury. There was nothing in Viktor’s eyes but an eerie reflection of the Hexcore’s glow. Rubble from the ceiling rained down on them both.

“Viktor! It’s me!” Jayce tried to pry him off, heartbeat hammering in his ears. “I don’t want to hurt you, Viktor. Can you hear me?”

A beat passed. Another. No recognition. Viktor’s cold hand reached for his throat. They’d both die here if he didn’t do anything. Jayce shoved harder, throwing him off and flinching at the thud when Viktor hit the floor.

Viktor scrambled away, panting, eyes wide but finally human. “That… was a terrible idea. Never do that again.” His shot a glare at the Hexcore, then turned back to Jayce. “We need to go. Now. Carry me.”

“What the hell was that?!” Jayce snapped, rubbing his throat.

“I will explain later.” Viktor grabbed his hands, positioning them in a way that would not harm him. “The crutch too. Do not let go. Whatever I do, whatever I say, do not put me down until we are safely away from here. Understand?”

A million questions flashed through his mind, but Viktor’s desperate terrified gaze silenced him. Jayce nodded and carefully picked him up, holding him close. Despite being noticeably thinner, he was strangely heavier as well. Jayce stopped just long enough to let Viktor grab the crutch, then started to run.

Viktor squirmed and thrashed in his grip, kicking and hitting at every opportunity. Jayce only held on tighter, praying that he wasn’t hurting him. Eventually, Viktor stopped fighting, going limp in his arms. Jayce sighed in relief.

Not sure where else to go, he brought Viktor home, setting him down on a guest bed. Jayce sat by his side, waiting for him to wake.

~*~

Viktor slowly drifted to consciousness. He was in a bed. A soft bed. With soft sheets. That couldn’t be right. Was this another dream? The Hexcore trying to seduce him with luxury? He laughed at the thought, then coughed, jerking to full wakefulness. Not a dream. The dreams were the one place he didn’t feel pain.

“Viktor! Thank gods you’re awake. I’m here.” Jayce put a hand on his back, offering a glass of water with his free hand.

Jayce. Jayce was here. The real Jayce, not an illusion-dream-puppet of the Hexcore. Viktor ignored the water, clinging to Jayce and burying his face in his chest. Jayce was real. This was real.

Jayce held him close. “It’s okay. We’re safe,” he murmured. Viktor focused on his voice, the rise and fall of his chest, the warm arms around him. Nothing like the Hexcore. The Hexcore could not even pretend to care.

“I’m sorry,” Viktor mumbled finally. “I’m sorry.”

Jayce pulled away enough to look at him, concern in his eyes. “Something happened back there, but we can figure that out later. When was the last time you ate?”

Viktor blinked. Time had lost meaning to him, other than the fact that he was running out. What day was it? “I… I don’t…” he trailed off, aware of the hunger gnawing at his stomach.

“We’ll get some breakfast, then we can talk, alright?”

Viktor couldn’t find a reason to argue with that.

The food helped. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a warm home-cooked meal. It was heavenly. Beyond what he deserved.

“You deserve the truth,” Viktor said, once there was no other excuse to wait. “Please do not interrupt. I know it will be difficult to hear.”

He took a breath and told Jayce everything. The way the Hexcore took his blood, Shimmer, being able to run for the first time in his life, Sky attempting to save him only to lose her life, the nightmares. How he felt stuck in the lab, unable to be away from the Hexcore for long. How the Hexcore had sent agonizing pain and taken over his altered limbs when Jayce tried to destroy it. He apologized, hoping Jayce would understand but knowing he was beyond forgiveness.

Jayce was silent for a moment longer, absorbing the information. “Gods, Viktor. That’s… I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you. It wasn’t your fault.” He was too kind. Too forgiving.

“Don’t.” Viktor held up his hand. “Don’t start. Do not try to excuse my actions. What I’ve done cannot be undone and I must live with it. My actions led to Sky’s death, and I nearly killed you. I cannot let that happen again. Heimerdinger was right; it could destroy entire civilizations and we must stop it before that happens.”

Jayce ran a hand through his hair. “How? What do we do next?”

Viktor hesitated for a moment, glancing out the window. “I need your help to get across the bridge.”

Jayce nodded, eager as always to be helpful. “Of course. Where are we going?”

“You are only going to the end of the bridge. I am returning to my… acquaintance from the Undercity. This madness is partially his fault, and if anyone can fix it, he can.” Or make it much worse. But Jayce didn’t need to know that part. He had enough to worry about. If Jayce knew the dangers that awaited, he’d never let him go. It was better this way.

“Alright. If you’re sure…” Jayce said. Viktor nodded.

As they walked, Viktor felt the unmistakeable tug of the Hexcore pulling him back. He only clung tighter to Jayce, gritting his teeth. Just a little further. There was nothing he needed in the lab, and every reason to avoid it. He didn’t want to go back, he needed to get to the Undercity.

The enforcers gave him a wary look, but Jayce’s presence was enough to let them through, as he had hoped. They walked in silence until they reached the end of the bridge.

“Well. I suppose this is it,” Viktor said, bracing himself on his crutch.

“I could still come with you—“

“No, Jayce. You stick out far too much. You think you are being stealthy, but everyone in the Undercity will only see an easy mark— or worse, a governmental figure they could use as leverage. It is better for me to continue on my own from here.”

Jayce rubbed the back of his neck. “That bad, huh?”

“You have many posters, Jayce. You are a symbol.” Viktor paused, then cracked a smile. “At least they are flattering. Even as a drawing you are undeniably attractive.”

“It was Mel’s idea,” Jayce protested, blushing slightly at the praise. “… but I get it. I won’t go any further, promise.”

“Good.” Viktor nodded. “I will send a message-tube when I am able. I am unsure when that will be, but do not set foot in the lab until I tell you to. The Hexcore will likely still be dangerous even if we manage to sever the connection. I will not return Topside until it is destroyed.”

“But you will return, right? We will see each other again.” Jayce was looking at him with those impossibly-large puppy eyes.

Viktor forced a smile. “Of course. Someone has to keep an eye on you.”

“I mean it. I’m not losing you, Viktor. This can’t be goodbye forever.”

Viktor sighed. “I will do my best to not die in the meantime.” He hesitated, then added, “But if this is the last time… Thank you, for everything. Despite the illness, my time with you has been by far the best years of my life. I would not trade it for the world.”

Jayce nearly crushed him in a hug. “You saved my life. I wish I could do the same.”

Viktor held on, savoring his touch one last time. “You already have.”

For a few minutes, they simply stood there, neither wanting to let go. Viktor ultimately was the first to pull away. “It’s time. Hold off the war for as long as you can, that would complicate things.”

Jayce nodded. “I’ll try. Just come back to me.”

“As soon as it is safe to do so. Farewell, Jayce.” Viktor turned and limped off to the Undercity. He didn’t look back— if he did he might never leave.

The trek down to the cave was more difficult than he remembered. His altered leg threatened to drag him down at every step. The air that he used to breathe every day of his life now burned with every breath. The rocks were slick, a fall at the wrong step could be deadly.

Still, he continued. One step at a time, one breath at a time. Despite the pain.

Finally, finally he reached the mouth of the cave, coughing and leaning heavily on his crutch.

“I take it the experiments did not go as you wished?” Singed asked. At least he had the decency to wait for the coughing fit to subside.

“No. Your Shimmer made it worse. You are going to fix it.” Viktor glared at him with as much energy as he could muster.

“Is that so?” Singed tilted his head to the side. “Do you often find yourself in fits of rage after the experiment?”

Viktor opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again, the doctor’s question taking him off guard. “Why do you ask?”

“The variant I gave you was meant to be without the…. more savage side effects. If that was not the case, I must find the miscalculation. Most unfortunate.” He turned to his notes. “I can mix another, perhaps less potent.”

More experiments. More test subjects. Was that all he was to the doctor now? It didn’t matter. Viktor shook his head. “No. I did not come for more Shimmer. I am done with the Hexcore. You are going to help me mitigate the results.”

“I warned you that you may not like the path ahead.”

“You said they would despise me. I do not care about that. Topsiders hated me since the moment I set foot in their gilded city. This is different.”

Singed made a noncommittal hum. “Perhaps. What exactly do you believe I can do to ‘fix it’?”

Viktor limped over to the blood-stained table, heaving himself onto it. “Remove the altered flesh. All of it. I know you can.”

“Show me. Tell me what happened.”

Viktor removed the glove and his pants, showing his altered limbs. He explained what happened, but kept only to the strict facts. He left out the nightmares, the crushing guilt. The doctor wouldn’t care about the emotional toll. It wasn’t worth wasting air on bringing it up.

“Fascinating.“ Singed took his altered hand, turning it over and inspecting it. “Are you certain you want it removed? This is truly extraordinary. It could be the breakthrough we need.”

“I am certain,” Viktor insisted. After a moment, he added, “You may keep the… parts… after if you wish. I don’t care.” He didn’t want to know what Singed would do with them, but destroying them completely would be difficult if not impossible.

“Very well. Is there anything else I should know?”

Viktor reached into his jacket pocket and handed over his journal. “I have designs for prosthetics, if that has any bearing on how you perform the surgery. Feel free to peruse the other notes if you wish.”

The doctor paged through the notes. “Impressive. Have you tested any of these designs?”

“Prototypes, nothing more. I did not have time to take them with me.”

“If all goes well, there will be time to test the designs later. Do you have any other requests?”

“I wish to keep my mind in tact and be able to continue my work, to help people. I do not care for appearance as long as I am functional.” His gaze drifted to Rio in her tank, his throat tightening. This process would not be pleasant. “If I must go into suspension… do not drag it out too long.”

“I will do my best. You will live.” Singed placed a hand on his shoulder, light and cold but the closest the doctor could get to comforting. “Are you ready?”

Viktor took a shaky breath and nodded. This was the only way. “Do what you must.”

The pinch of a needle in his arm was the last thing he felt before the world went dark. The dreams couldn’t reach him.