I Am Your Glorious Creator

"Yea, I have. How could ya forget about your right-hand man?" Fate snickers, tilting his hat towards the Herald. "After all, you’ve assist me more than some Piltovian Hero.”

Viktor grumbled, his third arm scratching at the top of his head. "Well. I suppose THAT IS TRUE! I never thought of you as an ally."

She goes silent.

"Such silence is the only confirmation I need!"

"So all that stuff about your army marching was bullshit and you’re full of hot air. Glad we can work this out."

"No. It is just not DONE! Perfection takes time!"

"I’ve told you this before, you nutjob. I am."

"You...have?" The inventor cocked his head.

"… Yes. That." She folds her arms. "I am perfectly fine with being your rival, Viktor. But don’t you dare make me your enemy."

Per usual he grumbled to himself. "You're so confident, Sheriff! But we all really know, you cannot predict WHAT I AM CAPABLE OF! YOU FEAR WHAT I CAN DO TO PILTOVER! I know it!"

"So your army doesn’t march because they aren’t done."

"Yes."

"Y’all really need to listen to this man. Either he’s a genius. Or fucking nuts. Either or, I’m apart of the evolution."

"What!? YOU ARE NOT!"

"No, you designed it. Past tense.”

"I STILL DO! THEY AREN'T DONE!"

"If you miss the sound of my voice so much, Viktor, perhaps you shouldn’t give me reason to be silent."

"You mean with the promised destruction of your home?"

"Apparently you need a map, because you seem to have trouble finding my point. What do you lead? Machines that are already serving their purpose? What do you design? Machines that are capable of rebuilding and replacing themselves?"

"I design THEIR WEAPONRY! THEIR ARMOR! Their entire BEING!"

"… nevermind."

"At least you speak now!"

"You didn’t address my point. Your machines all have their mission or whatever technical term you have for it, they can continue on doing what they’re doing. What good are you in your army?”

"I LEAD THEM! I design THEM! DO NOT BE A FOOL!"