Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“Man cannot remake himself without suffering, for he is both the marble and the sculptor.”

— Alexis Carrel.

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The void wasn’t cold. It wasn’t warm either. It simply was. It was a boundless nothingness. An eternity where even the concept of sensation had become incomprehensible. Viktor couldn’t say how long they had been floating lost in the absence of time and space. Seconds or centuries blended into the indistinguishable flow. The stars that had once dotted his consciousness were lost, and it was only darkness. A formless emptiness.

Yet, in that serene vacuum, he could still feel Jayce. He could feel the weight of Jayce’s hand on the back of his neck, and the press of their foreheads. The tangle of their legs. Viktor couldn’t see Jayce, or hear him, but his presence was definite. It was a tether holding him stable against the immensity of the nothing surrounding them. And there, finally, in the absence of everything, Viktor found that he was happy. Truly happy, perhaps for the first time in his life.

And then the agony came.

The astounding pain didn’t creep in gently or announce itself with some kind of warning. It was instantaneous, and violent. It was a hurricane tearing through the fragile peace in the void. A cacophony of sensations surged through his formless body. Pain detonated through every nerveless nerve as if he were reliving the explosion that killed them all over again. The connection between him and Jayce was severed with brutal exactitude. Torn apart as if it had never been. The sense of loss was immediate and infinite. Viktor imagined it like losing a limb, only worse. They were ripped from each other, and hurled into the storm. Spinning and colliding with the weight of eternity baring down on him. His absent throat burned with soundless screams. Jayce’s name was the only thing, the only thought in his mindless mind beyond the horror.

He opened eyeless eyes to a blinding, searing light. White-hot and tremendous, it burned through the fabric of his consciousness. A million phantom hands clawed at him, tearing him apart and reshaping him simultaneously. His body, if it could even be called that, contorted, split, and reformed with every shriek. Beside him was another presence appeared next to him in the storm. It was not Jayce but a twin.

It was a warped reflection of himself, at once familiar and completely alien. It moved in tandem with him, pulled apart and fused in a grotesque dance as if the universe were trying to decide whether they were one or many. Their flesh-less bodies molded and split. The pain was so immeasurable that it mixed with pleasure before returning to agony. A delicious torment beyond any sensation Viktor had ever felt. The ache was so complete that it could only be named ecstasy.

Then came the fall.

It was sudden, dizzying, and absolute. Viktor plummeted through the kaleidoscope of colors, the vortex of impossible shapes and screaming light. The weight of gravity slammed into him, yanking him from the timeless chaos and throwing him violently into the world of the living.

He hit the ground with a resounding crack, and pain erupted through his skull as it connected with the laminate floor.

He had a body again. Limbs and organs and a face. Bones and eyes and a throbbing brain.

His lungs screamed for air, and his chest constricted painfully as if it were filled with glass. The radiating pain from his lower back and leg was unfortunately familiar. It was the same old torment from a life he left behind returning to haunt him after months of being fused with the Hexcore. He groaned, barely aware of the commotion around him.

An explosion of movement erupted through the unfamiliar room, but all he could focus on was the pain of being in a body again. Blood, flesh, and bones. He had not felt this alive in so long. Not since he died the first time. Viktor wasn’t sure, in his disoriented mind, if he was glad to feel it again. He thought he would prefer to be back in the beauty of the void, held by his partner, lover, friend. In that place where everything was nothing, and all of it was good.

He had been so afraid to die before only for death to be the most peace he had felt in his life. It was a perfect place,

“Jayce?” he whimpered. His voice was a fractured whisper. He blinked, his vision swimming as an unfamiliar face came into view. A concerned young face that couldn't be older than a teen. They were trying to speak to him, and their words were a strange jumble of static that he couldn’t process.

“Mr. Talis? MR. TALIS?!”

“Get the nurse!” another frantic voice barked.

“Should I call 911?”

“No!”

“Is he dead? What happened?!”

“Are you stupid? He just talked!”

It sounded like a thousand people were converging and talking at once. It was too much for his mind to handle. Young voices and young faces were looking back at him. All their faces melted and reshaped in fear and concern. Blurring and reforming like he did to get here.

Where was here, what was here?

The world tilted again as his consciousness slipped away. His gaze, though bleary, caught the blackboard behind the strangers. It was covered in formulas of chemical compounds. He recognized the shapes but not the names. In a moment of clarity, before he was lost to unconsciousness, he realized he couldn’t understand them at all.

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Jayce stumbled forward. The world tilted violently around him, and he vomited across the sleek conference table in the middle of the strange room. The acidic stench permeated the air immediately, but he barely registered it. Viktor was the only thing that consumed his thoughts. The connection they shared, the tether that had kept them together in that black quiet place, was gone. It had been severed by that same horrible rending he had felt going through the wild rune. Though it had been different this time. The last time he experienced that soul rending experience he had merely appeared in that horrible apocalyptic wasteland but now, though he was having difficulty remembering, he felt like he had been split apart and merged with himself over and over again.

The pain had been incomprehensible.

The room was silent, save for the faint hum of overhead lights. Jayce braced himself against the table’s edge and willed himself to stay standing. His legs quivered. They felt like jelly. His lungs were burning, and his head pounded with a ferocity that made it hard to think straight. Despite all that he forced himself to take stock of his surroundings.

The room was... alien. It was jarringly boring. Everything was plain. The space lacked the grandeur and warmth of Piltover. The city he loved and grew up in was full of warm polished wood and brass accents. The windows were framed in ornate arches and craftsman detailed everything down to the crown molding and baseboards. But as his eyes tracked over this strange bland room everything was sterile and lifeless. The decor was in a cold palette of greys and blues. The windows along the side wall were just square glass panes that showed a grey sky and towering grey buildings blocking the horizon. The walls were flat and featureless except for the large digital screen mounted behind him. He wasn’t sure how he knew what it was. The long conference table he was clinging to was made of some dull, unremarkable material. It was just as grey and boring as the walls and the windows and around it sat people—strangers.

No, not all strangers. Speckled among the unknown were faces he had become very familiar with throughout the years.

“Are you alright, Mr. Talis?” one of the men asked. His sharp features and blue eyes cut through the haze of Jayce’s confusion. The last time he had seen that face he had crushed the man's body into pulp with his hammer. Splattered his blood over the floor and over himself. Left his broken body to be found by someone else.

“Salo?” Jayce blinked rapidly. His voice was hoarse. He shook his head trying to focus. His temples throbbed more.

The man looked puzzled, but Jayce’s attention darted past him. He scanned everyone in the room, his eyes roving over their faces in shock. He couldn't understand what he was seeing. As the others at the table swam into focus the more distressed he became. There was Shoola. Her usual calm expression was broken by a flicker of confused concern. She was without all the clicking gears and golden accents he was used to seeing on her. Now she sat in a burgundy pantsuit, the only accessory she wore was a gold necklace and earrings. Next to her sat Mrs. Kiramman, Caitlyn’s mother, with her hands folded neatly in front of her. Her brows furrowed and looked as if she was about to stand. And then—

“Mel?” Jayce’s voice cracked as his eyes landed on her. She rose from her chair with a calmness that felt at odds with the situation. Her green, calculating eyes were narrowed as she approached him slowly like he was some kind of spooked animal. She was also less adorned. She wore a white dress with buttons running down the front and gold jewelry,  but her hair was in its usual immaculate braids. Her make-up was also more restrained. Gone were her gold accents leaving just deep purple eye shadow and lipstick. The only time he saw her so stripped down, he felt, was when they were sleeping together. The thought was distressing and while seeing her was a comfort that bled deep into his bones, it also filled him with a deep sense of guilt that he didn't know how to deal with in that moment.

The rest of the table was filled with unfamiliar faces. Investors, he thought. It was a strange realization as thought didn’t come from him entirely. It felt planted. Foreign, like the ghost of someone else’s memory. Like someone else had whispered the word in his ear and he just knew the context through some kind of osmosis. 

Jayce’s stomach twisted and cramped as if he was going to vomit again. His hand gripped the table tighter so it might anchor him, but the nausea only grew. He felt dizzy with it, all these familiar yet unfamiliar faces. The only face he truly wanted to see was the one that had been so cruelly torn from his arms. Viktor.

Viktor who he had been bound to for so long, at least he thought it was long. Time didn't mean anything in that safe dark place where they resided. Jayce wasn't sure why they were here but he knew that all he wanted was to be back there. Back in the nothing where he got to hold Viktor close in a way he never allowed himself to in life, a way he didn't even know he wanted to until it was too late.

“Jayce,” a new male voice spoke from his side. Jayce hadn’t noticed the man standing near him. He turned taking in the stranger. The man had mousy brown hair and light blue eyes, and there was nothing remarkable about him at all, but there was a kind of itching in the back of his mind that told him that he should know this man. There was a beauty mark under his eye that reminded him of Viktor but there was nothing else there.

He gently placed a hand on Jayce’s shoulder with a little concerned frown that felt fake. Like he was putting on a show. Then he continued, “Why don’t you go lay down?”

Then the man turned back to the room, and offered a placating smile. His voice was deeper than what you would expect from him on his looks alone. “I’m so sorry, everyone." He said with a sheepish, charming affect, "I’m sure Mr. Talis will be fine. As his partner, I can continue our presentation in another conference room while they clean this up.”

Partner? Jayce’s stomach dropped.

He stared at the man, his confusion twisting into alarm. Who the hell was this asshole? Jayce didn’t know him. He had never seen him before in his life. And yet, the others at the table seemed to accept the explanation without question. They all started rising from their seats and gathering their various folders and bags and blazers as Jayce just watched in stunned confusion. His stomach roiled and rebelled and wanted to unleash a fresh torrent upon the grey carpeted floor. There were little flecks of dark blue mixed in with the grey fibers which only made Jayce's eyes hurt.

Mel was already by his side before he could question what was happening further. Her hand was suddenly on his arm, and guiding him toward the door. “Come on,” she said softly. Her voice firm and the first truly familiar thing that had happened in the last five minutes since he arrived in this place. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Jayce let her lead him. He was too disoriented to protest. He stumbled along behind her as they exited the room. The unfamiliar man’s voice faded behind them as he began addressing the investors to follow him to another room. The door clicked shut behind them sealing the oddities away for now, only for them to enter into an even stranger open office full of small grey boxes filled with grey dressed people.

They moved down a hallway that was as cold and impersonal as the conference room. Jayce barely noticed the monotonous offices they passed. His mind was racing. This place was nothing like his lab, in fact he doubted it was a lab at all. It was nothing like anything he had ever seen.

It was so offensively grey.

Everyone who passed them was in grey. The carpet, the walls, the square panes of glass that separated offices and windows. It was as if all the color of the world had been stripped. Bled out and all that was left behind was the pallid color of an exsanguinated corpse.

Mel guided him into another room. This one was slightly more inviting. It was another office—his office, he realized with a start. The desk was cluttered with papers and a laptop, and there was a large, framed photograph of himself shaking hands with someone he didn’t recognize prominently displayed on one wall. The furniture was expensive but just as bland as everything else, the only thing that made it slightly better was the color scheme of brown tones, which was a slight reprieve from everything else in this strange colorless hellscape. There were framed pictures propped on the desk, but he couldn’t tell what they were from behind, and on the walls, there was strange art that just looked like a bunch of colors splashed on a canvas. It was like putting a bandage on a broken leg. The grey was still there. The carpet and the walls and the square tall windows behind the desk. Nothing could escape the oppressive colorlessness of this place. It almost seemed to make the brown leather seating area look muted and bland.

Mel led him to the small seating area in the corner, where a leather couch and two chairs were arranged around a low coffee table. She eased him onto the couch. Her sharp eyes scanned him with worry but also, it seemed—frustration.

“Are you okay?” she asked, kneeling beside him. “What happened in there?”

Jayce barely heard her. His thoughts spiraled as he clutched the armrest. “Where’s Viktor?” he rasped, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. He couldn't stop imagining that if he was thrown through the void in such pain that Viktor must have experienced it to. That and the idea that the last time he had been torn apart in the wild rune he had ended up alone on the other side. Heimerdinger and Ekko never to be seen again.

Was Viktor gone?

Mel blinked, caught off guard. “Viktor?” she repeated, her brows knitting together.

“Yes,” Jayce said. The urgency bleeding into his voice. “Where is he?”

Mel’s expression shifted. Her confusion mixed with what seemed to be annoyance. Jayce knew it well. It was the look Mel gave him when he didn't meet her expectations. When he didn't make the moves she wanted him to. She rose to her feet, crossing her arms. “I’m sure he’s at his job. You know, where he works. Just like you’re at yours.”

“Where?” Jayce pressed. He sat up straighter despite the lingering ache in his head. It was starting to even out, dull down but it was persistent. All he wanted was to know where his partner was in all this. It was the only constant in his ragged mind. Viktor, Viktor, Viktor. 

Viktor who he had finally confronted. Finally expressed how he felt. Viktor who he had died with. Viktor who was his everything. The only thing that mattered in the universe.

Mel’s brow arched, and her voice became sharp with her obvious impatience.

“At some high school, doesn’t he?" She snapped and waved her hand around as she leaned against the armrest one of the leather chairs, "Teaching science or something. It’s not like you don’t complain about it constantly.”

Jayce’s stomach flipped. Viktor was teaching? High school? Jayce wasn't sure he knew what "high school" meant, but Viktor hated teaching. He always grumbled about it when Heimerdinger asked him to take over a class. Though Jayce always thought he had a way of explaining things that made them so interesting and easy to understand. Jayce couldn't imagine a life where Viktor willingly was a teacher over being a scientist but as Jayce looked around what he was assuming was his own office—he wasn't entirely sure that this version of himself was a scientist either.

This version of himself?

His head pounded a new.

“Are you okay?" Mel tilted her head. Her annoyance was giving way to something closer to suspicion. "Did you hit your head on the way here? Should I call an ambulance? You might have a concussion.”

Her words barely registered through the panic overtaking Jayce's mind. It was racing to piece together fragments of this life that wasn’t his. This was another place. Another world. Another universe that was different, so different, from the one he was used to. That’s what this was, just like when he went into the wild rune, he was sent to another world. Viktor didn’t work with him in this universe. Viktor wasn’t his partner in this universe. The same but different than before. But this world didn’t seem to be a reflection of his own. And in this universe…he and Viktor weren’t partners. How could that be? Weren't they supposed to be entangled in all possibilities. That was meant to be the one constant in all universes across time and space. That he and Viktor found each other and created Hextech together. They were to destroy and save the world together.

Die together.

“No,” Jayce repeated, his voice was steadier this time but still soft. “No ambulance.”

He wasn’t sure what would happen if he was revealed as an anomaly in this situation. Something told him that if he tried to explain himself he would be met with disbelief and even fear. He didn’t want to be thrown into a hospital or an asylum before he could figure out what was going on. He and Viktor died. He knew that. They were dead. They exploded into a million colors and had been floating in an endless afterlife…what was happening?

Had that rune actually just sent them somewhere else?

Mel narrowed her eyes again, but she didn’t press further. She stayed perched on the armrest of the nearby chair, with her back and shoulders tense as she studied him. They were just watching each other. He had a hard time looking away. She was just as beautiful as the last time he saw her…and just as inconsequential. For a moment, before everything went to hell, he thought he might have been in love with her. It hadn’t been a possibility before the symphony and had only crossed his mind in fantasies. He had been attracted to her but had never dreamed that attraction would be returned. She was so…far above him. So beautiful and out of reach it was easy to want her. The idea of her, the dream of her. Then she kissed him, and he had felt so drawn in by the touch of her soft lips. Affection had become something he hadn’t indulged in for a long time. In her body, he had felt at ease. He was comforted, but when he looked back at their moments together, all he could see was Viktor’s face.

Viktor looking up at him and telling him his name the night after the trial. Viktor collapsed on the lab floor, with blood on the desk. Viktor, unconscious in the rubble, with his delicate back broken and barely breathing while Jayce, himself, stood untouched.

All those sweet memories were twisted with scenes of Viktor. Viktor's face flashed where hers was meant to be. They warped and bled together, interchangeable and irretractable.

The Mel from his past life had used him, and he was ashamed that he had used her. Whether it was intentional or not. In the end they had become friends, and he respected her and trusted her and wished he had made different decisions. He wondered how everything would have gone if he had pushed her back at that first kiss—if he had realized sooner where his heart lied. He, who had indulged in physical affection frequently before, had spent years not thinking about it in Viktor’s presence. He couldn’t even remember the last woman he had kissed before he was with Mel. Maybe at some party or gala that Viktor had refused to attend because when Viktor did attend, on those rare occasions, Jayce refused to leave his side. Things could have been so different if he had known himself. Had he looked inward and saw that the depths of his love for his partner were not bound or limited in any way. They were all-consuming and infinite. It had just seemed so obvious. His love for Viktor was a constant thrum, and Viktor himself had also seemed such a constant. Why would he need to question it? Why would he look deeper when it just was?

He had been too late to do anything about it. Too late to stop the inevitable. But in the end he had done what needed doing and given his life to share the end with the love of his life.

Jayce squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out those thoughts. It was all in the past now. He made the decisions he made and tipped over the dominoes of their lives. In the finale, he had been where he needed to be. He had held Viktor at the end of everything. His fists clenched against his thighs as he forced himself to focus. Whatever this place was—whatever time or dimension—it didn’t matter. One thing burned brighter than the confusion clouding his mind.

“I need to get to Viktor.”

The words came out like a declaration. It was the strongest he had sounded since waking in this place and body. Wherever Viktor was, Jayce knew they could figure the situation out together. They always had, no matter the odds. Viktor was his anchor. He was the one constant Jayce trusted above all else. No matter what Viktor had done back in their previous lives, no matter what Viktor would ever do. Jayce trusted him and loved him. No matter what, he would not allow them to be separated. Viktor could destroy a thousand worlds, and Jayce would forgive him for it all.

Mel’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Why the sudden urgency to see your husband?” she asked. Her voice held something more. It seemed to shake with restrained emotion but that could be said about Mel at any point. He had never gotten used to conversing with her and had never had the upper hand. She was always having two conversations at once. She was always keeping something tucked away. She was adept at it. It made her a brilliant councilor and investor. It was her nature, and Jayce had come to love it about her in a way. “What is this about? You got sick all over our meeting and had to be rushed out of the room. And you need Viktor now? What does he have to do with anything? Just this morning, you were complaining about an argument.”

Jayce froze. Her words hit him like a blow to the chest. Husband?

His head snapped toward her, his eyes wide and searching. “Husband?” he echoed barely above a whisper.

Before she could respond, memories flooded his mind. They weren't his and they split his mind in throbbing agony. 

Viktor was lying beside him in a large bed, with the sunlight catching his hair as it slipped over his face. It was longer than Jayce was used to, and highlighted the mole just above his lip. His head was pillowed on Jayce's bicep as he looked down at the sleeping man. In some distant part of his mind he knew they were both naked and he was contemplated waking Viktor with a kiss. His lips were so inviting, parted slightly and damp in center.

The faint glint of his medical brace in the sunlight as Viktor got dressed for the day in front of a wall of windows covered in hanging plants. Jayce watched himself through his own eyes approach him from behind. He wrapped his arms around Viktor’s slender waist, and kissed his neck. “Bad leg day?” The words came out of his lips, in his voice.Viktor turned slightly to see him over his shoulder and smiled leaning back into his chest. "Always." He said softly and Jayce pressed his lips to the top of his head. "I'll give you a massage when you get home tonight."

Viktor sat in a grand kitchen, hunched over a book, sipping coffee at a small table by the window. His hair was tied up in a messy bun and he was wearing a large t-shirt that slipped down over his shoulder.

Their wedding. He knew it was theirs because they were the best dressed. Also the large sign shaped like a heart with their names in the middle. It was bordered by multi-colored balloons in their color scheme. It was a small event. Simple and intimate because neither of them wanted to make it a big deal. They only had so many friends. Jayce was holding Viktor close on the dance floor because his cane had been left at their table. The music blurred into the background because the only thing Jayce could focus on was the man in his arms and the way his head was thrown back in laughter. He could feel the strain on his own face from the smile splitting it open.

The images overwhelmed him. They were unfamiliar but shockingly real. He could feel them all as if he, himself, had lived them. Jayce’s heart swelled with an emotion so strong it left him breathless. Those memories weren’t his, but they came with a surge of affection so deep it brought tears to his eyes.

Here… in this life… we’re not just lab partners.

We’re partners.

Husbands.

The thought was strange and hypnotic. I made Jayce feel drunk, and he couldn’t stop the joy that swelled in him at the thought. The very idea of having Viktor like that. To have him completely, and without any barriers, was almost too much to process. There had always been a barrier there, like a thin film, keeping Jayce from ever fully enmeshing himself with the other man. It had taken him so long to realize the depth of his feelings for Viktor. That slight barrier was to blame in some ways, he thought. Jayce had mistaken his love for admiration and that admiration for something more fraternal. From the moment Viktor saved him from jumping from his destroyed apartment, he had become the most important person in Jayce’s life. It had never occurred to him that those strong feelings could be desire. Not just desire to know him, to know his mind, or to be around him always, but it was desire-desire. Lust. Attraction so strong it had transcended everything and only grew. Increasing over time and space, like the universe's infinite expansion. He had mistaken it for so long, and then when he finally got his head out of his ass, there was no time. He had to make decisions so fast, and they all led to their joint demise.

But here…here, there could be time.

Was this a do-over?

A second chance?

Perhaps this new universe was a gift. Was this what death was? Moving from life to life, and playing out different versions of themselves ad infinitum?

A terrible question was gnawing at the edges of his newfound hope. Would the Viktor in this life be his Viktor?

Did his Viktor get sent to the same universe as Jayce, or were they separated? He thought again of how he had been sent alone to that horrible place while Heimerdinger and Ekko had gone…somewhere else. He didn’t know where they had gone or even if they had ever returned. It was possible that when he and Viktor were torn from each other, they were also separated and sent to completely different worlds. Viktor might have been left behind in the void while Jayce was forced to move on. The possibilities were endless and horrifying. The thought filled him with dread.

“Jayce!” Mel snapped at him, though she appeared calm as she waved a hand in front of his face. “Are you even listening? I think you need a doctor.”

Jayce bolted upright, shaking his head. “No, no, no, I don’t need a doctor.” He stumbled over his words. His mind was racing. “I’m just… I’ll go home. I need to—uh, I need you to make sure my, uh… partner doesn’t mess up that meeting.”

That strange man with his familiar, yet unfamiliar face, who was apparently his work partner in this new life, was off leading some kind of investment meeting, and that seemed like a decent enough excuse. Viktor never likes being part of those meetings; he would let Jayce handle them completely, and he would only ask for details after the fact. He had trusted Jayce completely that he would make the right choices. That was until the end at least. Until the weapons. Jayce found it odd that he would have a partner be so... hands-on in the business end of things.

Mel frowned. She was obviously confused by his behavior. Her brow was furrowed, and she seemed to want to argue the point further, but before she could, Jayce was already halfway to the door. He grabbed the leather satchel from a coat rack, moving on instinct before fleeing his supposed office. He let muscle memory take over as his mind ran a mile per minute.

The rest of the office outside was a labyrinth of cold greys and subdued blues. It was so different from the warmth and opulence Jayce was accustomed to in Piltover. Gone was the opulent architecture, artisan craftsmanship, and brass fixtures that had once defined his surroundings. In their place, the building had smooth, lifeless walls that were interspersed by the occasional abstract print hanging in flimsy black frames. Even the air felt different here. It was stale. It was like stagnant recirculated air mixed with synthetic, chemical cleaner, and vinyl. The smell of the place alone was enough to make his already throbbing head pound anew. The colorless facade made his eyes strain.

This place felt like a liminal nightmare, but he reminded himself that anything was better than the lifeless wasteland he had spent six grueling months surviving. He could figure this new universe out. He just needed to orient himself and get a lay of the land. He needed to find Viktor.

Jayce stumbled past a confused receptionist out of the large glass doors and into a sterile hall. He paused just past the doorway with his chest heaving, and his wild eyes darting around the corridor. The harsh fluorescent lights overhead buzzed. Jayce could almost feel the light vibrating against his skin. Humming along his flesh and making his teeth hurt. They cast a harsh, bare glow that bleached every surface and stripped any sense of vibrancy. His eyes trailed the long row of identical doors lining either side of the corridor. Their brushed metal surfaces blended into the walls. The hallway stretched on, perfectly symmetrical with no defining features. Directly across from where he stood was another large glass door that caught his attention. Beyond the glass was another identical grey office space. That door bore the etched logo of a “law firm” neatly into the surface. A very familiar name stared back at him: Kiramman.

Law firm? Jayce wasn’t sure what that was, but there was an idea ringing in his head that lawyers represented those put on trial.

His mind flashed to his own trial that set everything that came to be into motion. The event that led to Viktor stealing his research from Heimerdinger’s office. The event that led to Mel’s interest. It was so long ago, but it was so impactful. The trial ruined his life and saved it simultaneously. He wondered what it would have looked like if he had had a lawyer.

A soft ding sounded above him, breaking the silence. Jayce flinched. His gaze snapped toward one of the metal doors as it slid open with a quiet mechanical whoosh. Then a small group of people stepped out. They were chatting genially with each other, and their grey and blue suits blended into the drab environment. They glanced at him as they made to pass him into the office he had just escaped from. They eyed him long enough to make Jayce realize he must be acting strange. He shifted awkwardly out of their way and forced himself to straighten his back. He had to act normal, though his heart was still pounding like a war drum in his chest.

There were different dangers in this world full of people than there had been in the wasteland. Jayce could not reveal himself here. He had to seem as if he belonged, or who knew what the consequences might be.

As the group disappeared into the office he had just exited, Jayce turned back toward the door. There, etched on the door, was the bold crest of his family name. A stylized “T” for Talis that was flanked by two sleek, minimalist flourishes. Below it read the words Talis Technologies in standard lettering. This was his company…there was a tickle in the back of his mind that he should have realized that. It should have been obvious, but he had never seen himself as the leader of anything until he was thrust into those positions. So, this place was his. A company that he had a different partner with, and Viktor was a…teacher.

It seemed unnatural. The Viktor he knew was ambitious, and Jayce couldn’t imagine starting a business without his partner—his real partner, at his side. There was something so off about this world. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Everything Mel had been implying. An argument with Viktor that morning? It didn’t matter if this version of himself and this world's version of Viktor had some kind of argument. He would fix it. He wouldn’t lose the most important person to himself again.

He and Viktor had almost destroyed Piltover. They had almost destroyed the entire world, and yet here he was, standing and allowed to live again. In a new place, sure, but just the same. They probably didn’t have bodies to return to in their own universe. He wondered if that future version of Viktor had brought them here. The mage. He knew he had had a hand in bringing Jayce to the world before. He probably sent them here himself…it was a possibility.

He reached out a trembling hand. His fingertips grazed the smooth glass. It was his name, his legacy—but he didn’t even know what it was he did. Was it Hextech? His mind, these strangers’ memories, hadn’t shown him anything yet….memories from another Jayce. One that he was inhabiting.

It hit him for the first time that….this life was already occupied.

There was a version of Jayce who lived here already… was that the twin he saw in the madness when he was being torn apart? What happened to the Jayce of this world?

He stumbled back from the door. His head was pounding, and he nearly collided with the wall behind him. His breath came in deep, heaving gasps as he forced himself to look away from the door. His thoughts were spinning out of control again. What did it mean? Did his appearance in this body kill his other self? When he went into the wild rune, he had been himself completely; the other world’s version of him had been a separate entity. That Jacye was an empty doll forever kneeling in the eye of a storm. A statue in ivory and gold, overtaken by nature and magical rot. But this universe had a living version of him. One that he apparently took over.

One of the elevator doors at the end of the hall swooshed open again, breaking his trance, and Jayce turned toward it. A single woman shuffled out and went to the law firm across the corridor without even noticing him. Desperate to escape the sterile, suffocating monotony of this space and his own thoughts, Jayce stumbled into the now vacant lift. He couldn’t dwell on the ramifications of what it meant that he was conscious at all. That he had someone—his own—memories in his head, or that there was a voice in the back of his mind telling him what the unfamiliar was without him even realizing.

The elevator was a cold, unadorned box with dull grey walls. He was starting to wonder how people in this universe could live with everything so bland and colorless. The Elevators in Piltover were like guilded cages with all the intricate machinery exposed. They usually had a lever to pull to control the accent. There was nothing in this metal box but a panel of numbers. Jayce stared at the numbered buttons as he tried to orient himself. The numbers and letters were clear, though completely different. They looked nothing like the language he left behind, and yet somehow he could discern their meaning. His gaze lingered on the one labeled “P.”

Parking? The disjointed and uncertain thought flitted through his mind, but it was the only clue he had. He pressed the button and leaned heavily against the wall. The elevator hummed softly. The sound seemed to echo in the stillness. Everything in this place buzzed and bummed. He could feel the vibrations of the electricity all over his skin. It felt different than Piltover, like the electricity flowed through the lines at a different frequency. Jayce closed his eyes for a moment to try to calm his racing thoughts.

This was just like what had happened before with the wild rune. He understood the concept. There were infinite timelines, universes, possibilities, and he had been sent to one of them. But this time was fundamentally different because…He and Viktor didn’t have a universe to return to. When he had been sent to the wasteland, the idea of home kept him alive. The need to return to what was familiar—to what was real—drove him forward. He had to get back to save the world. Bun now...

The memories of floating in a vast, empty abyss were starting to fade, but Jayce remembered his former life completely. He remembered everything leading up to the end, though, while he knew the fresh pain of waking up in this place, he did not remember the pain of his death. One moment, he was floating with Viktor in that cosmic consciousness, and the next, they were together in death. He wondered how long they had been in that colorless void. He remembered the only sensation being Viktor’s body against his. Their foreheads pressed together. His hand on the nape of Viktor’s thin neck. Their chests pressed together, and their legs entwined, though they neither had bodies nor minds. It had been perfect, and he thought that it would be eternity.

An ideal forever with the one thing he loved more than anything. He thought it had been a gift, now that he was aware. He hadn't had any thoughts while in the void. He was aware yet not. Conscious of himself and Viktor yet fully without any thoughts beyond his general comfort and contentedness. While they could not do anything, say anything, move, or breathe, it was good. He had been at perfect peace with everything there.

When the doors of the claustrophobic metal box finally slid open with a quiet chime, he stepped out into a vast, dimly lit parking garage. It was disorienting. His polished loafers scuffed against the gritty floor as he took a hesitant step forward. It took a second for his eyes to adjust to the lower lighting. It smelled like dirt and tar, and a little like propane or gasoline. Jayce froze, staring at the machines before him. They were cars. Again, he didn't know how he knew what they were. They were a far cry from the vehicles of Runeterra. Cars were a fairly new invention and still looked closer to carriages without their horses than the machines before him.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Talis.”

The voice startled him, and Jayce turned sharply toward the source. A uniformed man was sitting in a small cubicle nearby. He peered out at him from behind a pane of glass. He looked bored, his eyes flicking up for only a second from a newspaper. “Heading out early?”

Jayce stared at him, his mind scrambling for an appropriate response. His throat felt dry, and for a moment, all he could do was nod. Then, realizing that might not be enough, he managed to stammer, “Uh… yes. Yes, I am. Do I… um…” He faltered, glancing helplessly at the sea of vehicles. “Do I have one of these?”

The guard frowned slightly and finally lifted his eyes over the paper to give Jayce his full attention. He tilted his head as though trying to gauge whether the question was serious. “Of course, sir,” he said after a beat, gesturing toward a car parked closest to the elevators. It was only about 2 cars back from the guard station.

Jayce followed the direction of the man’s hand and spotted his immediately. It was a bright blue car that stood out against the muted blacks and silvers around it. It was lustrous and garish. It stood out like a sore thumb with its low stance and aggressive curvature. It looked like something that was meant to go fast, and it was the only thing in this entire building that looked like it would be at home in the world he left behind. 

It was the first thing with any character in the place.

There was a sign mounted on the wall behind it that read his name and his company. The ones beside it also had similar signs with different names, indicating that these must be reserved for those who worked with him….for him?

He wasn't sure.

His movements were stiff as he approached it, as if the vehicle might come alive and attack him at any moment. His hand reached instinctively into his satchel, rifling through it with a growing sense of urgency. He wasn't entirely sure what he was looking for. The contents in the bag were unfamiliar. He wasn't even entirely sure why he had grabbed it in the first place, but he let the muscle memory take over again. He was depending on the body he was inhabiting, knowing what to do while his mind was left reeling. His fingers brushed against papers, a wallet, a pen, and finally, a set of keys. Jayce pulled them out and stared at the small bundle in his palm. Among the small silver keys was a flat, rectangular device with a smooth black surface and a screen. He turned it over, frowning, before pressing the largest button on the side. The car chirped, its headlights flashing briefly as it unlocked.

He jumped slightly at the sound and glanced nervously toward the security guard, who was now watching him with open confusion. Determined not to look completely out of place, Jayce tugged at the car’s handle. The door opened smoothly, and he leaned inside.

The interior was more baffling than the exterior. Buttons and lights were scattered across a console that seemed more like the control panel of a dirigible. Jayce slid into the driver’s seat, which was so low to the ground it felt like climbing into bed. He was practically lying down. His legs slipped into the footwell and seemed to know where to go. There were two pedals and a footrest for his left foot. Jayce smoothed his hands over the center console and the gear shift until his hands slid up to grip the wheel.

Now, to turn the machine on.

The key. He remembered the key—or at least, that felt right. He fumbled with it, trying to find an obvious slot to shove it into, but there was none. He dropped the key ring into one of the cupholders and felt around with his hands until he found a flat, round button just to the side of the wheel. Jayce touched it and leaned over to see what he was pressing against. The flat, smooth button said "Press Start," so he pressed it, and the car roared to life, startling him so much that he jumped, hitting his head on the headrest.

“Welcome,” an automated female voice said. The sound emanated from everywhere and nowhere all at once with a burst of jingling music. There was a whoosh of air, lines of blue light illuminating all the dark spaces, and little whirring sounds as the machine booted up. A small screen on the dashboard lit up, first displaying a single word, "Ferrari," then went black again before showing a map.

Jayce blinked at it. He tapped the bar that said “search," and a list of addresses greeted him. One stood out at the top of the list: HOME. He pressed it tentatively, watching as the map recalibrated, and a line drawing itself from his current position to the destination. He pressed start, and the automated voice came on again, "Turn right out of the parking garage onto Fifth Avenue toward I-5 North."

Okay, he could do this.

His hands shook as he gripped the steering wheel again. He felt completely out of his depth. He didn’t think he’d ever driven something like this before, but it couldn’t be so different from an airship or rail car…could it?

The map was clear, and the word HOME was like a beacon. That was probably the safest place for him to be right now. At least there, he could collect his thoughts, and if Viktor was indeed his husband, whether it was his Viktor or this world's….he knew he could trust him. He knew that any Viktor of any timeline would be able to help him figure out what he needed to do or what they both should do. No matter the universe, he was sure he could present Viktor with a scientific anomaly, and the man would have it solved within hours. Viktor had only had access to his notes on Hextech for one night, and it had helped him figure out the key to making it work, after Jayce had been trying to break the code for years.

The car shifted into gear with a subtle jolt that rattled his nerves, and he pressed his foot cautiously on the rightmost pedal. The vehicle lurched forward, its movements jerky as he adjusted to the unfamiliar controls. As he emerged from the garage and into the city beyond, his breath caught. The streets were lined with towering, blocky glass buildings. Some were shorter and stalkier, while others soared into the sky. Everything was vertical. While it was nothing like the opulence of the Piltover he knew, there was more variety for the eye once he escaped the grey hell of his building. There were older stone buildings wedged between the mammoth high-rises. The streets were sloped and steep in a way that made everything seem like it was tilting slightly.

The sky was a rolling grey that threatened to rain at any moment, which only seemed to emphasize the grey palette that still permeated every aspect of this world. Just charcoal buildings and wet asphalt. There seemed to be wires and lines everywhere, which were more akin to the fissures than the city proper.

Vehicles zipped past on the wide streets designed for cars rather than for walking or public transportation. Though after driving for a few minutes, he did pass by what looked like a trolley streetcar. The world outside was a strange, muted echo of the city he had once known. This was not the gorgeous titan of industry of Piltover, but Jayce knew how to navigate a city.

He wondered if this was even Piltover at all. And if it wasn't Piltover, where exactly was he?

Jayce’s hands tightened on the wheel as his eyes darted between the road and the map on the dashboard. Please, he thought, please let it be him. Let it be my Viktor.

The idea of seeing someone else wearing Viktor’s face, or of finding a stranger instead of the man he knew, filled him with dread. He couldn’t bear it. Not now, not after everything. He had already suffered enough of that.

“This has to be a second chance,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “It has to be.”

The car glided smoothly through traffic, following the glowing blue line on the map. Jayce’s hands gripped the wheel tightly, his knuckles white against the dark material. His mind was racing almost as fast as the scenery blurring past outside. The cars were packed on the street, and it made him nervous, but the driving itself wasn’t that difficult to pick up.

He was only about twenty minutes from his destination when a sudden chime shattered the silence. Jayce jolted, his heart skipping a beat. A flashing notification appeared on the screen, overlaying the map: Vik Work is calling.

Jayce stared, his breath catching in his throat. His heart thundered in his chest. Vik’s Work? Is Viktor calling me? Was it this Jayce’s husband, Vik, or his…V? That was a startling difference. He had taken to calling Viktor “V” early on in their partnership, but it appeared the Jayce of this world went with the less satisfying “Vik.”

Jayce wasn’t a fan.

“Would you like to answer the call?” the car’s automated voice asked.

“Yes,” Jayce croaked. His voice was hoarse from the weight of his emotions. He cleared his throat and tried again. This would be the first time hearing Viktor’s voice in what felt like a millennium, and he hadn’t realized how desperately he craved it. “Yes. Answer.”

There was a soft click, and then a voice came through the speakers—but it was not Viktor’s. It was a voice he never thought he’d hear again.

“Hey, Jayce, it’s Sky.”

Jayce’s chest tightened painfully, and his grip on the wheel faltered. He swerved a little in his lane before catching himself. The car beside him blared its horn at him, and when he looked to the side, he could see them glaring at his car before they threw up a middle finger and sped up. Jayce barely registered the interaction as he was too overwhelmed.

Ms. Young. Sky. She’s alive.

The Hexcore hadn’t killed her.

The realization hit him like a blow to the gut, leaving him breathless. The longer he was in this world, the more he started to think that the Hexcore didn’t exist here. That Hextech most likely didn’t even exist. He could tell just by the way the world seemed to work. He had been trying to put his finger on it, a resounding feeling of the lack of magic. He couldn’t describe it, and it should feel like a loss, but all he could think was that magic had almost destroyed his world. Had almost destroyed Viktor.

In this universe, Sky was here, speaking to him like it was the most normal thing in the world. She was breathing and whole. In his previous life, he barely registered her existence; she was something flitting around in the background of his life, running his and Viktor's errands and helping in their research, but mostly insignificant.

“Sky?” he whispered. There was relief and wonder threading into his voice. She had been barely an afterthought to him before, but hearing her familiar voice was like a balm.

There was a pause on the other end, followed by a sigh. “Yeah. Look, I’m calling because Viktor passed out in class. From what the students are saying, he had some kind of seizure before he fell. He hit his head pretty hard on the floor.”

Jayce’s heart dropped. Seizure? He couldn’t even process what she was saying—Viktor had collapsed and hit his head.

It must have been the effect of the transfer on him. Viktor hadn’t been through it before, to Jayce’s knowledge. It was easier for Jayce this time because he had already gone through it. The timing was too much of a coincidence.

Sky continued, her voice was tinged with worry, but it was also undercut by a casualness Jayce wasn’t used to. Sky was usually so shy and reserved around him. Always preferring Viktor.

“He doesn’t seem to have a concussion, but I don’t like it. You know him—he’s refusing to let me call an ambulance, doesn’t want to go to the hospital. But he also seems confused. If this is some kind of reaction to his new meds, or he’s made another untested compound himself and actually taken it, like an idiot, it needs to be addressed.”

Jayce blinked rapidly, trying to follow what she was saying. New meds? What meds? His Viktor hadn’t had any medication. Had refused it even. Shimmer had been off the table…well, until the Hexcore. Viktor had used it then. It was all laid out in his notes. But this wasn’t his Viktor, not exactly. And Sky’s tone—it was familiar yet unfamiliar. Their relationship was clearly different from what it was in his universe. She was kind of sassy.

“I…” he began, fumbling for words. “Of course. I was leaving the—uh, the office early already, but uh… how do I get to you? I’ll come right now, but, uh…” He glanced at the map, realization dawning as he pulled the car to the side of the road. “I need to put it in my map.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. When Sky spoke again, her tone was laced with skepticism. “Are you high or something, Jayce? What do you mean? We’re at the school.”

Jayce felt heat creep up his neck. He fumbled through the logged addresses on the car’s interface, searching desperately for something that might lead him to Viktor. Nothing. Home was the only saved destination—this world’s Jayce didn’t have Viktor’s workplace saved. He probably didn’t need it.

“I just need it for the map,” Jayce said quickly, thinking on his feet for an excuse that would make sense. “I had a meeting in an unfamiliar area. Got turned around.”

Another pause. It was longer this time. Finally, Sky let out a sigh. “Alright. The address is 9823 Nettlewood Drive NE. Where were you to get turned around so bad?”

Jayce hastily input the address, watching as the map recalibrated. It was on the way to HOME, only about ten minutes from where he was now. Jayce barely even registered her question, his mind still occupied with the chance that this Viktor was his. It was the only thing that would make sense. He thought of Viktor floating in that celestial vision, his hair white and floating around him like they were underwater. His eyes, his beautiful eyes, golden and bright like before everything went to shit. That Viktor came here with him, the timing was too coincidental for it not to be true.

The idea of seeing Viktor back to himself. Alive, well, and in a human body was overwhelming. The idea of holding him in his arms again. A tangible body and not just the essence of feeling, a form that was or was not there. The last time he had held Viktor close was when he awoke from the Hexcore change. Before that….

Well, before that, Viktor had always seemed so uncomfortable. He allowed Jayce a lot, but to grab him in an embrace would have been too much. The only time he had ever gotten to indulge that desire was that night after floating in the blue glow of their first working Hexgate. The night that his life changed forever, Viktor had stiffened so viscerally that Jayce had released him, sheepishly, and he had never tried to hold him quite like that again.

It had taken months for Viktor to seem comfortable with being held around the shoulders. Jayce couldn’t help himself from touching, and Viktor had never outright told him no…but he held himself back from his more overt displays of affection. Then, he had just gotten used to it. It had become thoughtless.

“Is Viktor okay?” he asked, his voice quieter now. “You said he hit his head…”

“He insists he’s fine,” Sky replied. Her voice was tight with frustration. “But you need to take him to the hospital, Jayce. Just because he says he’s fine doesn’t mean he is. You and I both know that. This is serious—if it’s a reaction to his meds, that damn doctor needs to reevaluate. It might be an adverse reaction to his pain meds. He said he didn’t know whether he had taken any this morning. I keep telling you guys you need to set an alarm or something for him, or, like, a daily checklist. I swear, half these damn drugs can cause seizures, and half of them can’t be mixed around, and if I find out he actually drank some chemical mushroom concoction that he cooked up at home—oooh—I’ll lose it.”

This was too much information for Jayce to deal with. The only thing he was picking up from this conversation was that Viktor had the same sickness in this world that he did back in theirs, and that seemed like a bad joke. Not that Jayce minded Viktor’s disabilities, but he had hoped….he had hoped that Viktor would be freed from some of his pain in this second chance.

“Of course,” Jayce said softly. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Good,” Sky said. Her relief was evident. “Just… don’t let him convince you he’s fine, okay?”

The call disconnected, leaving Jayce in a stunned silence. He stared at the address glowing on the map. In 8 minutes, he would know whether his Viktor had followed him into this world, and together they would figure out what to do.

Viktor is sick here. He’s been taking medication. How could he have the same sickness? That was caused by the gases in the fissures where he grew up…. Was there a place like Zaun in this new world?

Maybe the second chance was fixing this. Fixing it without Hextech. Fixing it without stripping Viktor of all his bodily autonomy.

Jayce pulled back into traffic.

Or maybe it was about just being there for him, something he had failed at spectacularly the first time around. This wasn’t a redemption for Viktor. It was a chance for Jayce.

For Jayce to correct his mistakes.

-------------

Viktor sat stiffly on the examination table in the small school nurse's office with his hands folded tightly in his lap. His mind buzzed with a mix of disbelief and exhaustion as Sky moved around the small space, checking his vitals. He had been half dragged, half carried to the office by a bunch of children, and he had thought he was going insane when Sky’s face came into view. They deposited him on the raised metal table, and she began her routine. First, she had shone a light into his eyes, then moved on to check his blood pressure before listening to his breathing with a stethoscope pressed to his back.

Ms. Young. Sky.

She was just the same. Her hair was pulled back into a puff, and her glasses were sitting low on her nose. She was wearing a simple floral dress, a pink cardigan, and white running shoes with ankle socks. She was so effortlessly lovely. Just the same as he remembered her, but also so different.

The last time he saw her was as she dissolved into the Hexcore’s consciousness. A victim of his desperation. Of his ambitions. Of his selfish desires. Yet, here she was, alive, and tangible, and scolding him.

“Let me at least call Jayce to pick you up,” Sky said. Her voice was warm but firm. She wasn't fucking around with him here, and they had already been arguing about her calling an ambulance. She adjusted her glasses as she glanced at him. “You shouldn’t be driving right now.”

He couldn’t remember Sky ever speaking to him with authority. She had always been so soft-spoken and shy when she was alive, and then when they shared his body, they shared a more…cerebral relationship. It was all science, collaborative, but she had always been deferential to him, even in that state.

“Jayce?” Viktor asked. He was still disoriented. Still trying to wrap his head around being alive…but also where he seemed to be, which was nothing like where he was before.

Sky gave him a knowing look and crossed her arms. “Yes, Jayce. Your husband. I’m not letting you get on that bike to take yourself home after you had a seizure in your classroom. Be reasonable. I should just follow protocol and call the paramedics anyway, no matter how much you don’t want me to.”

Viktor’s mouth went dry. Husband? He blinked at her, struggling to piece together her words. “Of course. Where... where is Jayce?”

Sky tilted her head, studying him with a mix of concern and suspicion. “Um, probably at work right now?”

“Ah.”

That was unhelpful. The only answer he could come up with was the anomaly that the white-haired boy had thrown at him just before the end. Time itself converged into a small singularity. It was the only explanation, but he had thought that it killed him…killed them. Instead, did he and Jayce get thrown into another parallel dimension? Like the one Jayce had shown him through his memories. That empty wasteland of Jayce's torment was nothing like this place, though it was also nothing like Piltover.

Her brows furrowed as she leaned forward slightly. “Did you two have another argument?”

“What?” Viktor’s voice wavered, and he stiffened. “What do you mean?”

Sky sighed, pulling up a chair to sit across from him. “It’s just...you seem like…well, it just seems like you don’t know where he is…did he sleep at his mom's again?”

Viktor tried not to let his expression show his confusion. If Jayce was his husband, why would he have been sleeping at his mother’s? This life held more mystery than just the fact that he was here at all.

“No,” Viktor wracked his addled brain for something that might make sense, but nothing was coming to him.

“Are you sure? It’s been happening a lot lately. Yesterday, you said that he seemed distant since your diagnosis…” She gave him a pointed look. “I get it. He’s been on some stuff lately, but stress isn’t good for you, Viktor. You know that. He should know that. It might not be considered an autoimmune thing, but stress is a killer even without what you have going on.”

Viktor stared at her, and his chest tightened. He struggled to process her words as flashes of another life, one he hadn’t lived, flickered in his mind. Too many at once and too quick for him to follow. “Stuff?”

He felt like they were having two completely different conversations. Did he and Sky…talk like this? What was their relationship in this world?

Sky paused, frowning. “You hit your head pretty hard. Between that and the seizure, I really think you need to go to the hospital.”

“I’m fine, Ms. Young,” Viktor said quickly.

The only way he was going to figure this out was by playing along. If it was the anomaly that sent him here like the one that had taken Jayce to that horrible place…the world that would have been if he had succeeded in his cause…then that meant there could be solutions, ways back…

Back to what, exactly…..

The empty void? The perfect nothingness of death, or back to the world he had almost destroyed with his arrogance and his ambitions and his…

Blindness.

But here in this world…

Jayce was his husband…

Was this a gift?

The idea that Jayce would ever marry him was foreign. But then Viktor remembered what Jayce had said…about loving him, admiring him, despite his imperfections.

Because of them.

If he pushed his mind, he could remember a kiss as the world became nothing in that blinding light. Exploding and imploding instantaneously until it was only the two of them in the void.

“Don’t you, 'Ms. Young,' Me, asshole. I’m being serious.” Sky leaned back, arms crossed. “You’re always fine, huh? You’ll be in a hospital bed with a bunch of machines hooked up to you, and you’ll still say you’re fine.” Her sharp tone made him flinch, but then she softened. “Look, if you won’t listen to me, maybe Jayce can convince you. I’m calling him.”

“Calling?”

“Yep, calling him right now, Buster,” Sky reached for a flat black device, which she playfully waved at him before exiting the room and leaving Viktor in silence.

He glanced around the nurse’s office, taking in the plain white walls, the beige furniture, and the hum of fluorescent lights. He was sitting on a metal examination table right beside the door. There was an L-shaped desk that Sky had been leaning against while talking to him, and to the side were two small beds separated by hanging curtains. Everything felt so... mundane. There were no ornate windows, vibrant colors, or intricate craftsmanship. Everything was just cold and impersonal blandness. He doubted this place was named Piltover. He doubted he was on the same planet, given how different everything was. It didn’t feel the same here. There was something fundamental that he couldn’t put a finger on missing from this place…beyond the architecture.

He pressed his palms to his temples, trying to push through the fog in his brain.

Multiverse.

The concept of the multiverse lingered at the edge of theoretical science, an infinite lattice of realities, each branching off from a single choice, a single moment. Viktor had considered it before, in idle curiosity, but he had never lingered on it long, as there were always more pressing matters that needed his attention. Playing with time had never been at his fingertips. They had crossed that fragile threshold, thrust into a universe that mirrored theirs yet diverged in critical ways. Somewhere, in the web of infinite outcomes, they had been plucked and placed here—not by chance, but by something far more deliberate.

Jayce had already done this once through the singularity at the Hex-gates. If they were truly in another universe, he and Jayce hadn’t simply appeared here. This body he was in had once been occupied and had its own consciousness. This universe didn't spawn out of nowhere; just as he arrived, it was clear that there was a version of himself that had been living in it.

Quantum entanglement?

His gaze fell to his hands, studying the faint tremor in his fingers. This wasn’t his body—not entirely. It was familiar, yet... different. His hands were softer, and the skin was smooth. His hair was longer than it had been when he was young. Down to his shoulders. Though his body was the same lean thinness, and there seemed to be more to it, a softness that Viktor had never had the diet to conceive with all the late nights at the lab and forgetting to eat.

A thought penetrated through the cacophony of others: The consciousness transfer overtook the bodies already present. He swallowed hard, grappling with the moral implications. The Viktor who belonged here—what had happened to him?

Was he displaced?

Destroyed?

His chest tightened, and not just from the weight of the realization. A dull ache radiated from his lower back, pulsing with a rhythmic throb. He shifted, wincing as the old pain flared to life. He reached down, fingers brushing the smooth wood of the cane beside him.

Back to this again. The thought was bitter and laced with resignation. There had been merits to the body he gained with the Hexcore. He wished he didn’t feel that way, not after everything, but it seemed cruel to end up back where he started. Whether Jayce admired him for his imperfections or not. Jayce didn't have to live in his body, no matter how much he loved Viktor. Or so he claimed.

Viktor didn't doubt him. He just imagined it was easier to love someone despite their imperfections than to love oneself while living with the constant pain of them.

Viktor flexed his knee, testing the stiffness. His joints creaked in protest, but they weren't nearly as degraded as his previous body. His mind churned, assessing his physical state with clinical precision.

Not the crutch yet. Nor the leg brace, at least not every day. The pain in his leg and hip suggested that it was coming soon, if not something he had used on occasion already. That was a small mercy. Wherever this body was in its decline, it was manageable. Though the timeline seemed different from his own, he hadn’t gained his lung diagnosis until years after he had to start wearing his brace daily and needed more support than his cane allowed. Pressing his hand to his stomach, he could feel a support belt under his button-down for his spine. Yes, everything seemed to be out of alignment.

But then there was the other problem.

His lungs burned with a slow, steady heat. His throat had a rawness to it that implied heavy coughing. He inhaled deeply, feeling the resistance in his chest. A soft, wet rattle followed.

His eyes drifted to the prescription bottle on the desk, his name and dosage blurring on the label. It was still difficult for him to parse through the new language. While his body seemed to know it well, his mind was still struggling to catch up. The medication was tailored. His mind ticked through the possibilities. Sky had asked him earlier, when he was still confused, whether he had taken his medication this morning, and he did not know. That is when the scolding started.

Management, not cure.

It was a familiar grim prognosis. While this disease was probably genetic and not caused by his environment, it felt similar. Everything he had been running from seemed to follow him here. He wondered if there was a universe out there where he didn’t have to die too young.

Viktor knew how to live with limits. He always had.

Imperfections are beautiful. They are an inseparable part of everything….that I admire about you.

His thoughts spiraled back to the concept of transference. If he had come through, then logically...

Jayce.

A shiver ran down his spine. What if Jayce hadn’t made it? What if the Jayce in this world was a stranger? Someone with his face but none of his soul?

He wasn’t sure he could endure that. Not after everything.

If there was anything Viktor desired in this world or any other was to have Jayce back at his side. It had been the peace in the void, and it had been his salvation from the Hexcore. It had been the thing that kept him going for so long.

If Jayce had crossed over—if his Jayce was here—then they were both trapped in this strange, fractured reality. Together. They had a second chance.

But at what cost?

Suddenly, fragmented memories came flooding into him in a way that almost felt like the soul-rending horror of being shoved into this body.

He saw himself coughing and collapsing in a dimly lit classroom. Blood splattered from his lungs onto his desk as papers scattered around him. Lying on the floor in the dark, wondering if he was going to die as he slowly lost consciousness, unable to breathe. A janitor’s startled face.

Waking up to bright hospital lights. Then Jayce—no, his husband—sitting at his bedside, his face shadowed with worry. The Jayce in that memory looked handsome and polished. His hair was slicked back, and a neatly trimmed beard framed his face. Jayce’s voice sounded hollow as he spoke about a diagnosis and a treatment plan. He was looking down at his hands, and his eyes were red-rimmed like he had been crying.

Then, in a brightly lit room that Viktor knew was their shared apartment, they were having an argument that left a bitter taste in Viktor’s mouth. Jayce was frustrated, pacing as he accused Viktor of punishing him. Viktor was annoyed. He could feel it radiating through his body, though he did not understand the source. Only a deep fatigue filled him as he told Jayce that he was going to work and that they could continue this discussion later.

Then, another flash: Jayce kissing him. The memory was vague but intense. There was no sense of when or where the memory took place. Just the flashes of Jayce's face so close to his before Viktor's eyes closed, and it was all sensation. Lips, tongues, teeth. Blurred at the edges and gone before he could hold onto it. Viktor reached up, fingers brushing over his lips as if trying to recapture the sensation.

The door opened, and Sky walked back in, her “calling” device clutched loosely in her hand. She gave Viktor an exasperated look, “Man, did both of you hit your heads or something? Jayce sounded way out of it on the phone.”

Viktor’s heart lurched. Jayce. Out of it. That meant disoriented.

If Jayce was sounding disoriented while Viktor had found himself in this new universe in this new body, that must mean his Jayce was here too.

They were both here. Together.

He had thought their last moments atop the Hex-gate would be the end—a final act of redemption. Everything he had done would collapse, and so would he. He would be lost to time, and his name feared, perhaps, or completely forgotten. He had made peace with that in his final moments.

Now, they were alive. Together.

How would Jayce look at him now after everything? Now that they weren’t at the end, welcoming death. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to confront Jayce again. It was everything he feared and everything he wanted.

Sky’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. “I’m serious, though. I’m not letting you get out of here without Jayce taking you to the hospital. You hit your head, and that seizure—”

“I am perfectly fine, Sky,” Viktor interrupted, waving her off with a flick of his hand. He needed to act as himself. He didn’t know what would happen if he were too suspicious. “You needn’t worry so much.”

“You passed out in front of a room full of teenagers,” Sky shot back, arms crossed. “That’s not exactly ‘fine,’ Professor. I don’t know what you think ‘fine’ looks like, but that’s not it.”

“I’ve had worse mornings,” Viktor quipped, leaning back on the table with a small smirk. He was trying to lean into whatever dynamic they had here; it was like muscle memory. If he just let his mouth work before thinking too hard about it, perhaps he would be as natural as possible.

Sky raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what? A little seizure is just another Tuesday for you?”

Viktor shrugged. “I have been shot before.”

Sky blinked. “You—what?”

“It’s a long story,” Viktor said, enjoying the bewildered expression on her face, making light of the moment Jayce came into his sanctuary and sent an energy blast through his chest. “But suffice to say, a seizure? Not my most dramatic injury.”

Sky let out an incredulous laugh. “You’re impossible.”

“No, just difficult,” Viktor corrected with a tired smirk. “Jayce would tell you the same.”

“Oh, I know,” Sky muttered. “I get the weekly updates on that one. He’s just as bad as you, by the way. Both of you are running yourselves into the ground like it’s a competition.”

Viktor chuckled softly, shaking his head. It was easy to fall into banter. “He always had a flair for dramatics.”

“And you don’t?” Sky shot back. “Please. If this were a contest, you’d both win.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Viktor said with a grin, then added slyly, “Though I’d prefer not to end up in the hospital to claim my prize.”

“Not negotiable,” Sky replied.

“I don’t think I had a seizure,” Viktor said, keeping his voice measured—calm. “I doubt the children would even know what that looks like.” He adjusted his position, suppressing a grimace as a familiar ache throbbed through his back. Hospitals were not an option—not now. There were bigger problems to address. He and Jayce needed to have a conversation, needed to figure out what had happened to them and how to navigate it.

Sky’s eyes narrowed. “Right. Because teenagers are just constantly making up medical emergencies for fun.” She leaned against the desk, arms still folded. “You were on the ground, twitching, Viktor. What do you think that looks like?”

“I—” Viktor paused, considering his next words carefully. “Are my students okay? It must have been... unsettling.”

Sky softened a little. “They’ll be fine. Just worried about you. One of them even tried calling 911 until I stopped them.”

Viktor quirked a brow. “How heroic. Perhaps I should offer extra credit.”

Sky snorted. “Extra credit for trying to save your life? Sounds fair. You could save everyone the trouble by taking care of yourself.” She gave him another pointed look. “You clocked in at 7 a.m., and your first class isn’t until 10:00. Thought I wouldn’t notice?”

Viktor frowned, the question rattling something loose in his mind. He reached for the memory, but it was slippery, like trying to catch smoke. A sudden, sharp pain spiked behind his eyes. A flash of something—an argument. Heated words exchanged in a familiar voice. Jayce’s voice.

“Jayce and I... did have an argument,” Viktor murmured, more to himself than to Sky.

Sky huffed, clearly unimpressed. “Figures. You two fight more than an old married couple. Oh, wait.” She shot him a smirk before adding, “I should give him a piece of my mind when he gets here. Where does he get off—”

Whatever else she planned to say was lost as the door burst open. Jayce stood there, disheveled and breathless, his hair sticking to his damp forehead, hanging in his face, and he had a beard. His eyes, wide and frantic, swept over the room until they landed on Viktor.

For a moment, Viktor froze. His mind betrayed him, dredging up the last time he saw Jayce’s face just before he shot Viktor with his hammer. The wild look in his eyes, his heaving shoulders. It was entirely different. There was no hammer in the man’s hands. He was only wearing a pair of slacks and a button-down, but that didn’t stop the flicker of fear that gripped him irrationally but insistent.

Would this Jayce kill him just the same?

Would this Jayce give up on him…

Then Jayce’s expression softened, the frantic edges dulling into something raw and vulnerable. Relief. Concern. His eyes became open and warm, and all the nerves Viktor was feeling at seeing Jayce again fled from his mind.

How could he have ever doubted this man?

“Viktor?” Jayce’s voice cracked, low, and unsteady.

Viktor’s breath hitched, the weight of everything settling on him at once. The tension bled from his body, leaving only exhaustion and a faint tremor in his voice, “Jayce.”

Jayce launched himself across the room, arms wrapping around Viktor in a crushing embrace before he could think. Viktor barely had time to react as Jayce pressed against him, his larger frame nearly knocking him backward. He had to spread his legs to accommodate Jayce’s body as he pressed himself completely to Viktor’s front. For a moment, Viktor sat frozen, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all, the warmth, the pressure, the sheer presence of Jayce. His mind stuttered, caught between memories and the reality unfolding before him. He didn’t think Jayce had held him like this more than 3 times in their entire relationship. And only once before he died the first time.

Jayce buried his face against Viktor’s neck, his breath hot and ragged. Viktor felt a dampness there, and it took him a second to realize Jayce was crying. The sound of Jayce’s voice, rough and cracking, was almost painful to hear.

“Are you okay?” Jayce whispered, the words barely audible.

Viktor hesitated, glancing at Sky, who was still standing in the doorway. The weight of her gaze made him painfully aware of how intimate this moment was. She had a skeptical look on her face as if she was really taking everything in and analyzing it. His instinct was to pull away, to shield this tenderness from prying eyes. But Jayce’s grip was ironclad, and for once, Viktor allowed himself to indulge. He raised trembling hands and rested them against Jayce’s broad back, pressing his fingertips into the firm muscles. Hot, firm flesh yielding to his touch, Jayce melting even further against him.

He could feel Jayce’s heartbeat pounding through his own chest. He could feel him breathing as if they shared lungs. He was hot like the furnace he spent hours working metal in front of, and he smelled like sweat and cologne. Strong biceps bulging as if to crush Viktor, as if even this was not close enough. Viktor pressed his fingers in harder as everything tingled with pleasure, making his toes curl in his stiff shoes. It was becoming hard to breathe. Jayce’s heat permeated into his own body. Viktor felt consumed by it.

“Yes, Jayce. I am alright,” Viktor said softly, though the words felt strange in his mouth. He wasn’t entirely sure of their truth, but he needed to say them—for Jayce’s sake, if not his own.

Sky cleared her throat, breaking the tension. “Okay, that’s enough of the dramatics. I’m calling the principal to get a sub. I don’t want to see you for the rest of the week, Vik.”

Viktor shot her a withering look. “Oh, how generous of you. Shall I also provide you with a daily health report while I’m at it?”

It was so easy to fall into this banter with her. It had never been this way in his own past life. He hoped that he was doing this life’s Viktor justice in being himself. Of playing this off as if he was who he was pretending to be.

“Yes. You can email it. With attachments.” Sky smirked. “I’m serious, Viktor. I don’t want to see you until Monday, and there better be a note from your doctor on my desk.”

Viktor rolled his eyes. He didn’t understand what an email was, but he got the gist of her joke. “Of course. Shall I bring flowers too? Maybe chocolates? I hear bribes work wonders in the administrative office.”

“Brilliant idea,” Sky quipped. “Jayce, be a good husband and keep your man at home.”

Jayce chuckled a bit sheepishly, glancing between Sky and Viktor as though unsure how to navigate the moment. The word husband wasn’t getting any easier to hear—not because it was strange, but because it felt right. Viktor felt that pull toward Jayce, that magnetic connection that defied logic.

Viktor raised an eyebrow at him. “Careful, Jayce. She’s trying to recruit you to her side.”

“I’d never dare,” Jayce murmured, his eyes softening as they met Viktor’s. For a moment, Jayce was lost again, seeing echoes of a thousand moments all colliding at once. Viktor’s hair was longer now, but it framed his face beautifully. His eyes—real amber, bright, and honey-warm—were mesmerizing. The cold, silver sheen of the Hexcore was gone, replaced by the warmth that Jayce had thought was lost.

The desire to kiss him was so strong and familiar that he had no idea how he hadn’t realized what it was before. It had been so twisted up in his admiration that he had mistaken it, but no longer. It took all of his will to stand still and not indulge himself. Not throw himself at Viktor again. Not taste his lips.

Helping Viktor off the table, Jayce instinctively reached for his cane. It was familiar, almost nostalgic—the same cane Viktor had used when they first met. Jayce’s heart clenched at the sight, but there was also relief.

Sky hovered near the door, hands on her hips. “I mean it, guys. Take a break. Rest. And no arguments.” She leveled a pointed look at Jayce.

Jayce nodded, his lips quirking into a faint smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

As they left the office, Jayce slipped his hand into Viktor’s, intertwining their fingers. He couldn’t stop himself—it felt vital, like if he let go, Viktor might vanish. And Jayce couldn’t take that risk. Not again.

Viktor glanced down at their joined hands but said nothing, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.