#arcane season 2 episode 7 spoilers

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

Remember Me

It's finally here!!! I really did not expect this lil idea to blossom into 5.4k words but here it is. Enjoy!

Summary: The arcane gives you the second chance you never knew you were looking for

The last thing you remember is the swirling myriad of colours that is the arcane and suddenly you're in a world that's both familiar and not quite familiar at the same time. Zaun, or what you think it Zaun, looks…the same yet different, the colours are brighter than you remember, the air feels easier to breathe and the people look happier.

Confused, you poke around for information. It's surprisingly easy to gather everything you need to know, the people are more relaxed, their guard is down and their lips are loose. The only thing left now is to find a place to spend the night, and it's not hard to find a simple boarding room after swiping a couple of loose change from some wealthy merchants.

In your little rented room, you sit on the bed, revising the events of the day. Turns out this city really is Zaun — a Zaun that is independent and co-exists with Piltover. This Zaun came about because of Vander and Silco's efforts, you remember tearing up when you heard that, much to the concern of the civilian you were asking but you had waved their concern away, swallowing the emotions that threatened to choke you. Silco has become a councilor representing Zaun and is often away whilst Vander still runs The Last Drop, and you are tempted to run straight there but you hold yourself back. You can't rush this, there's still too much you don't know yet, and tampering with the events of what you believe is an alternate universe might just throw everything in jeopardy.

With a sigh, you flop onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Such comfort is a rare find in the Zaun you know, and no one is this easy to steal from. You wonder what caused this version of Silco and Vander to make up, wonder what went down differently, and if Silco is happier in this universe than your own.

You toy with the pendant that sits around your neck, the last thing you have to remember the man you love by, and feel a tear slide down your cheek. You miss him still, your heart aching for one last moment to spend with him but you know it will never happen. You had buried him in the river with Jinx, watching as his cold lifeless body sank into its murky depths, numbly sitting on the docks afterwards, curled up with your knees to your chest. Sevika had found you in that fetal position and brought you to Silco's office, awkwardly comforting you with her usual pats to the back that feels more like a slap.

That night, you fall asleep with thoughts of Silco filling your head. The bed feels cold without him by your side, but tiredness quickly wins and you slip into dreamland, dreaming of a future with him.

The next day, you slip into The Last Drop, unable to hold yourself back anymore. You order your usual drink, tugging at the hood around your head as Vander approaches, a glass in hand.

"You're new around here," he observes, setting the glass down in front of you.

"Just visiting," you say curtly, not wanting to let anything slip.

"Still, you look rather familiar. Have I seen you before?" He queries, looking you over.

"No," you say a little too quickly before clearing your throat, taking a sip of your drink. "Sorry, I don't believe we've met. I'm pretty sure I'd remember if I've met the Vander."

He laughs, a deep guffaw that you've missed dearly. "Flattery won't get you a discounted drink."

"But perhaps it will get me a free drink?" You smile, raising your now empty glass.

He chuckles, refilling your glass, "you've got to do better than that then."

Your chest fills with a warmth you haven't felt since…you've forgotten how long ago it was, it feels like eternity since you last heard Vander speak to you with gentleness. Your hand moves to rest on Vander's but fortunately you quickly catch yourself and pretend like you're reaching out for your glass. You grip your glass tightly, staring at the liquid inside and swallow the emotions that threaten to overwhelm you.

That's when something catches your eye — a tattoo you've never seen before on Vander's hand. VI is etched into his skin, reminiscent of a tattoo etched into another person's skin in your universe. Vi.

"That tattoo on your hand —" You blurt out, and then internally curse yourself for it. Vander turns around, raising the hand with the tattoo and smiles a sad smile.

"My daughter. Vi."

"Oh…sorry about that." You shift in your seat. So Vi was dead in this universe, that was news. Was Jinx alive? You'd heard snippets of Ekko, the boy genius, as you walked the streets, so you knew that he was alive here. Was Sevika alive?

"It's alright." Vander waves it off, causing something else to catch your eye — a dove tattoo on the inside of his wrist. A dove?

"And the dove?"

"A dear friend," Vander says softly. "Y/N."

Wait what?

You nearly choke on your drink, biting the glass hard. You were dead in this universe? How? When? Was Silco coping alright? Was Silco —

The sound of The Last Drop's doors swinging open snap you out of your thoughts. A familiar figure walks in, blue hair tied into twin buns with a streak of pink in one of them.

Jinx?

"Powder!" Vander calls, a huge smile on his face. Powder smiles back, running over to hug him. You take a sip of your drink, watching as the two embrace each other, then Powder goes to serve drinks to the customers, happily skipping away. She's nothing like Jinx, she doesn't have the same haunted eyes that your adoptive daughter does, but there's still a spark of pain and sorrow in her eyes.

She did lose her sister, after all.

You watch a little more, taking your time with your drink until your glass finally runs dry and you place the money on the table, slipping out of the bar, but not before catching a glimpse of someone else familiar.

Ekko.

The two of you walk past each other, gazes meeting for just a split second before you go your separate ways, you to your room and he to The Last Drop. The alcohol sits in your stomach, warm as you lie on the bed, your mind processing everything that had happened today.

Vander not only has the scar Silco gave him in the river, but a tattoo in memory of Vi decorates his hand, and Jinx is…Powder. You vaguely remember the name, suggested by Silco as he drunkenly rambled about his favourite things, annoyed that Vander was the only one who could suggest names for Felicia's child. To think she really did use that name, you never found out what she named Jinx and it made your tear up. Felicia never stopped thinking of Silco as a friend, even as the trio drifted apart, torn away from each other by their responsibilities and dreams, and chose to name her second child according to Silco's drunken suggestion. Most of all, you're dead. You.

You laugh, choking back the tears that are beginning to spring into your eyes. Was this universe's Silco mourning your death the same way you mourned your universe's Silco? Had he at least gotten the chance to propose to you, ask you out, go on a date with you, sit on the rooftop and dream about nothing as you both look over the city you call your home?

You sorely miss the past, when you knew you could look forward to meeting together at The Last Drop, the laughter that always rang in the empty bar, the music that filled the air, Felicia dancing the night away, sometimes dragging you into it, Vander ruffling your hair and flicking Silco in the forehead, Silco grumbling about the volume and his inability to concentrate on his work. All the while you sat there, basking in their presence, allowing yourself to be dragged into whatever mess they created that night.

Now all three of them are dead, and only you are left to carry on the memory, but you can barely remember the feeling of those times. The memories are clouded and you can only see bits and pieces of them. You buried them long ago, ever since you turned your back on Vander and chose to follow Silco but now they resurface, pulled upwards by the sight of a happy Vander and the name 'Powder'.

There's a knock on your door. Wiping your tears away, you go to answer it, unsurprised that Ekko is standing there but you didn't expect Heimerdinger to also be there. Then again you should have expected it, Ekko is a resourceful one and upon coming to this alternate universe he would have searched for allies — you, Heimerdinger and Jayce.

"May we come in?" The Yordle asks, looking up at you.

"Sure," you step aside, letting them in and close the door before going to sit on your bed. "So what's the occasion?"

"The fact that we're in what looks like an alternate reality?" Ekko snorts, taking a seat on the chair next to Heimerdinger.

You roll your eyes, "wow what a discovery, wanna tell me how you discovered that?"

"Now now, students. Don't fight," Heimerdinger waves his hands, jumping between the both of you. "Ekko here has an idea of how to return us to our universe, tell them my boy."

"Hold on, where's Jayce?" You frown. "Didn't he get transported into this universe as well?"

"We have been unable to find him, I'm afraid. I doubt he's in this universe, or I would have seen him in Piltover." Heimerdinger shakes his head.

"Anyways, the plan is we're going to recreate the explosion that brought us into this universe in the first place, and hopefully it brings us back instead of throwing us into yet another universe." Ekko sighs. "I managed to find a hextech crystal's pieces and pieced it back together. All that's left is to recreate the very explosion but that's taking a while."

"Oh is the task too much for the boy wonder?" Your sass is overflowing today for some reason.

"How about you try pulling your weight and help out?" Ekko snaps back and you laugh.

"Well sorry for only finding out about your plan now."

Heimerdinger only sighs and waits until the both of you decide it's enough sass for the day before taking his leave with Ekko. You tag along, curious about the progress the two have made so far and impressed that Ekko has a whole lab to himself, although you'll never admit it to his face.

Over the next few days, you help Heimerdinger and Ekko however you can while finding time to explore Zaun further. The people here are livelier and happier, the streets are brighter, filled with Zaunites and Piltovians alike. Children frolic about without worry, the air is filled with booming voices instead of hushed whispers. The Bridge of Progress is bustling with activity — vendors peddling their wares, friends leaning against the railing, chatting the day away, the crowd flows both ways, into Piltover and into Zaun. Food is plentiful here, and people have enough money to spend that they also treat themselves frequently, something you could only dream of.

It's nothing like the Zaun you call your home and a part of you misses its dark corners, the sinister purple glow of Shimmer, the darting gazes as people flicked in and out of sight. It was what you grew up around, after all, but there's another part of you that wishes your Zaun was like this universe's Zaun. It's beautiful, peaceful, just the way your Vander had envisioned Zaun to become. Your Silco would come to appreciate the serenity, you think, a reward after the hard fought battle for independence.

Ekko recruits Powder along the way and you try to not show up whenever she's around, afraid that she'll recognise you. If Vander and her were this close, who was to say this universe's you wasn't as well?

"I've noticed that you've been avoiding young Powder lately, may I ask why?" Heimerdinger comes over to you a few days later.

"You just did." You frown, still staring at the runes in front of you. He stares at you, unimpressed. Sighing, you finally look at him. "Turns out I'm dead in this universe, alright? I don't want to risk being recognised, and considering how close I was with Jinx, Powder will probably recognise me."

"I see. Hmm, it could possibly mess up this universe's timeline, perhaps it is safer indeed for you to avoid being recognised." The Yordle hums. "I'll let you know when the young lady drops by."

"Thanks." You smile slightly, a flickering flame of warmth sparking in your chest. Heimerdinger smiles back before strutting off to continue his work. Maybe forming new relationships isn't so bad, not if it can recreate that warmth you had with Silco and Jinx.

The Yordle remains true to his word, helping you find excuses to leave the room before Powder shows up, and if Ekko is supicious about your behaviour he says nothing. With the aid of an additional technological genius, Ekko not only almost recreates the event that sent you all here in the first place but also discovers a way to turn back time — albeit only for four seconds. Still, it's a breakthrough no one's ever dreamed of, and is a highly useful invention for a variety of things.

A few days later, you learn about a party for the Young Innovator's Competition that's coming up, held at The Last Drop and Heimerdinger encourages both you and Ekko to attend it.

"And what's the point of a device like this if you don't enjoy the time you have?" The Yordle meets yours and Ekko's gaze, removing his goggles when he sees the look of concern on your face.

"It's been a while since you've last allowed yourself to enjoy anything, seize the moment while you still can." He places a hand on your shoulder. "Leave all your worries behind just for tonight."

You sigh, but can't deny the truth in his words. Maybe it's alright to just let your hair down just for tonight, you haven't been able to do so ever since Silco died and Zaun fell apart. You're tired, and a respite no matter how brief is more than welcome.

On the night of the party, Ekko walks in the front door while you slip in via the back, a hood thrown over your head. You keep to the shadows, watching the others while taking sips from a glass you had taken from Vander who had recognised you from your previous visit. Nibbling on a pastry, you lean against the wall, gaze flicking over all those in attendance. You recognise some of them from their grown up selves, creating an aching yearning for your home in this strange world and you quickly look for Ekko, desperate to rid yourself of sadness on this celebratory night.

You find the boy wonder sitting at the bar counter, talking with Vander and Benzo when suddenly yet another familiar figure enters your view — Silco.

Your body moves forwards on its own, taking a step towards the face you've missed dearly, heart pounding in your chest. He's here, back from Piltover which you didn't have time to scour for a glimpse of him and you feel your emotions begin to clog up your throat. Swallowing, you stop yourself and turn back to your wall, this time facing it as you struggle to regain control. You feel a tear slip out anyways and sniff, biting your lip.

He says something and you feel butterflies flutter in your stomach as they always did before. You may not be watching their conversation but you'd recognise your lover's voice anywhere. Your fingernails dig into your skin and you will yourself to remain still, to ignore the urge that calls for you to go over to him, hold him, kiss him, say all the things you never got to say. You want nothing more than to wrap yourself around him, hold him tightly as you cry into his shoulder but you can't. This is not your Silco, and you are not his Y/N. Your Silco is gone forever, and so is his Y/N, that is the reality you both have to accept.

The man you love is gone. you've laid him in the river he loved so much with Jinx, that you know. You'll never be able to touch him again, feel his warmth, lace your fingers together with his, sleep with the last thing you see being his face and wake up seeing his face first thing in the morning, but it's hard not to think about what could have been when a version of him is standing right in front of you.

Inhaling a shaky breath, you pull your cloak around you tighter, willing away the chill that has worked its way into your heart. You can't do this, you can't bear to see him again and not cradle his face in your hands, not press your forehead against his, breathing in his cigar-laced scent. Gritting your teeth, you find another corner to disappear into, putting as much distance between this universe's Silco and you. Slumping against the wall, you slide downwards onto the floor, closing your eyes as you focus on your breathing.

You've got this. You can hold yourself together. You're stronger than this.

"Need a drink?" A voice asks. You nod, eyes still closed and feel a glass pressed into your palm. Your lips part, ready to thank the mysterious stranger but when your eyes open, the room has gone dark and the stranger is nowhere to be found. Balloons explode, causing streamers to fall from the ceiling and the floor goes wild. Music comes to life, the crowd parting for someone. You quickly get to your feet, careful not to spill any of your drink and shrink closer to the wall, gaze fixed on the one who has stolen everyone's attention.

Powder. Jinx.

Tugging your hood around your head tighter, you look away, hoping that she doesn't catch a glimpse of your face but it's fine, she only has eyes for one person tonight. You take another sip from your glass, feeling the liquid burn as it slides down your throat. You've been having one too many drinks tonight, and you blame this universe's Silco as well as Vander for that. Mostly Silco.

You let out a shaky sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. Maybe you should stop drinking for today, going back to the lab drunk is not a good idea. You turn your attention to the dance floor that's being taken over by couples swaying to the beat, smiles and laughter all around. Ekko's fixated on his dance with Powder and you smile slightly, happy that he's found something in this whole mess.

Good for him, you think to yourself. He needed that, a breath of fresh air, a moment to just…be a boy.

You set your now empty glass on the counter, finding yourself leaning against it like you always did back then and quickly stand upright. You're letting your guard down too much, probably because of the alcohol. Shaking your head, you take a deep breath to recenter yourself. Focus.

The party slowly turns into a daze, lights filling your vision and music filling your ears. Bodies spin across the dance floor, you've lost track of where everyone is and all you know is that this party is starting to feel like forever. It's not a particularly bad thing, moments like this are nice, but there's a nagging feeling in the back of your head that makes you antsy and this party isn't doing it any favours.

"May I have a dance?" A voice sounds from beside you. Glancing in the direction from which the voice came, a familiar silhouette enters your view.

Silco.

You stare at him, then stare at his outstretched hand, then back up at him. Your mind is spinning, your heart leaping to your throat and your chest tightens. He peers at you with his one good sea foam coloured eye and you notice the difference between this Silco and yours.

His dead eye isn't the menacing black and orange you've come to love, it's a pale colour, white and yellow perhaps and his scar is openly on display in public. The edges of his face are softer, and gone is the coldness in his gaze, replaced by a warmth that's different from the one he always reserved for you. Yet, there's a pain hidden behind it, the mark of loss that you've come to know so well.

"I —" Words finally unclog themselves from your throat. "I can't dance. I don't know how to."

"It's quite alright. I can lead, following shouldn't be too hard." He smiles gently at you, hand still outstretched. "Give yourself a chance, you may find that you quite enjoy it."

You gaze deep into his eye, hesitating. You shouldn't, revealing your identity may shake the very foundation of this universe and you've kept your interactions with those you know to a minimum for this very reason. Yet, yet something stirs within you, nudging your hand forward until it touches his and your resolve dissolves completely. You let him lead you onto the dance floor, feeling the warmth flood from his hand into yours, feeling your palms lock as though they were made for each other, feeling like you're back there again, when everything was alright because you knew you had Vander, Silco and Felicia to lean on. Tears spring to your eyes, blurring your vision but you let yourself go, let Silco lead, trust that he won't let you fall.

He spins you around, guiding your movements through little nudges with his feet and tugs on your hands. You feel your body glide across the floor, his touches leaving ghostly imprints on your skin. When he pulls you into his chest, you stumble, crashing into him but he continues like nothing happened, an arm around your waist. He smells less of cigars and more like perfume, the kind associated with rich Piltovian snobs but you suppose it's only fair since he is a politician. Only he's not a snob, knowing your Silco.

You bask in the moment, dancing with the man you love, the man you buried, capturing it all and saving every second of it in your mind. It feels surreal, the second chance you never anticipated, but you can only watch as it passes you by, unable to say all the things you never got to. There's so much you want to say, so much you want to do, but you know you can't. This is not your Silco, this is not your universe, your regrets cannot be undone, not truly at least. You have to live with them, that is the burden you carry amid many others.

When your feet tire, Silco guides you back to your usual spot at the bar counter and orders two drinks — scotch and your favourite. He looks at you, your fingers still intertwined and brings your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

"I know you," he says without missing a beat. "It's you, isn't it? Y/N."

"You're confusing me for someone else." You wave him off with a nervous chuckle, letting go of his hand to scratch the back of your neck.

"And that right there is a nervous habit of yours." Silco nods at Vander in thanks and slides your glass towards you. "That's your favourite drink, isn't it?"

"You — you're mistaken." You shake your head. "I'm not Y/N."

"You're right." He takes a sip from his own glass. "You're not. You're not the Y/N I know, the same yet different. Care to explain?"

You take a particularly huge gulp of your drink, and immediately regret it with the way it burns a path down your throat into your stomach. Coughing, you set the glass back down, gasping for breath. Silco's brow furrows and he reaches over, rubbing your back.

"Maybe you should lay off the alcohol for the rest of the day," he murmurs, concern lacing his voice.

"Don't got much left til the next day." You reach for the glass, fingertips just brushing it but a slender hand moves it out of your reach.

"Still, it's best not to." His voice is smooth, velvety, music to your ears, accompanied by his gentle touch and you feel yourself growing weak.

"Can we — can we talk somewhere private?" You whisper, throat clogging up again.

"Of course." He slips his hand into yours. "Lead the way."

Squeezing his hand tightly, you bring him to the rooftop of The Last Drop — the place you and Silco always went to for some peace and quiet. Silco's eye widens slightly when he realises where you're bringing him to, and then a sad smile forms on his face.

Every step towards the rooftop causes your heart to ache even more, memories of your time spent hopelessly in love flooding back into your head. All the times where the both of you just lay there doing nothing, simply enjoying each other's presence, the stolen kisses, the times where he tried coaxing you into dancing with him. You remember when he had carried you from the rooftop, drunk and rambling, all the way to the spare bed, tucked you in and spent the rest of the night at your side. You remember when he had held you in his arms right here, gently rubbing your back as you cried into his shoulder, mourning the death of your best friend. You remember the quiet whispers of promises made, hearts exchanged, lives forever intertwined. The ring that hangs around your neck was given here, under the false sky on a chilly wet night, cold metal sliding onto your ring finger, a warm kiss following suit.

"Here," you say, sitting at your usual spot. He automatically sits on your right as he always has, fingers still intertwined with yours. He says nothing, gaze still fixed on you but there's no trace of suspicion, nor of anger. Instead his eye is filled with curiosity, a hint of caution, but there's also sadness that's no longer hidden by warmth.

He's looking at the image of the lover he lost, the same as you, you realise. He's in the same position as you, confused, saddened, burdened with regrets, and yearning.

"Of course you'd notice. You know me best, you'd recognise me from miles away," you laugh, but it comes out more as a sob. You tug your hood down, revealing yourself and smile sadly. He stares at you, mouth slightly ajar then quickly composes himself.

"I'm Y/N, but not the Y/N you know. I…I come from an alternate universe where I'm, well, clearly not dead. You are though. In my universe. You're dead, I buried you with our daughter in the river where you fought with Vander and since then I — I —" You collapse in his arms, tears streaming down your face. Gripping onto his coat tightly, you wail, scream, let out everything you've been bottling up all this time. You can't stop, the dam has been broken but Silco holds onto you still, cradling your shaking body in his arms.

"I've missed you. I've missed you so bad. I need you, please, I'm lost without you, I don't know what to do, I don't know how to do what you do, I — I just…I just want you by my side again." You weakly cling to him, fingernails digging into his arms.

"I've missed you too." His voice is but a whisper in the wind, his breath warm in your ear. He buries his face into your hair, arms wrapped tightly around you until your tears run dry.

"I'm sorry." You wipe away your tears, pulling away from him. "I shouldn't have —"

"Don't leave just yet. Stay a while more, please." His voice wavers, a weakness you've never seen him display before. Your Silco always hid his weaknesses, only ever displaying them in private intimate moments with you, and even then he never let his voice betray his true feelings, instead putting them into his actions. He always put you first, doing all he could to be strong for you so that you could lean on him whenever you needed to. To see, no hear, him falter, it shattered your heart like never before.

"Just for tonight," you whisper, letting yourself lean into his chest. "We — I shouldn't be doing this."

"Just for tonight," he echoes, closing his eye as he rests his head on yours. You close your eyes, imagining that it's your Silco who's cradling you, your Silco whose arms are wrapped tightly around you.

"I couldn't keep my promise to you." His voice cuts through the silence that has befallen the both of you. "I let you die in my arms, it's because of me that you were never able to see the future we dreamed of. I let you down."

You silently remain curled up against his chest, staring out at the nation of Zaun. Something wet lands on your arm and when you look up, you realise what it is.

Tears. He's crying.

You reach up, gently wiping the tears away. He blinks, taken aback then grabs you by the wrist with one hand while the other lifts your chin. You look directly into his eye, heart thundering in your chest and let him guide you once more.

"You're not my Y/N," he murmurs, "but I —"

"You're not my Silco either, and I know I'll never get him back, but just for tonight, let's pretend like we're in a perfect world." You close the distance, pressing your lips against his. He kisses back, hungrily devouring every inch of you. Your fingers thread through his hair, pulling him closer and he rests a hand on the back of your head, supporting it as he kisses you fervently.

"I love you," he gasps as you both pull apart, his voice breaking. "I love you."

"I love you too." You press your forehead against his, slipping your hands into his. "I always will."

Taking a deep breath, you break away, taking one last look at him. You have to go, leave the past behind and not look back, no matter how painful it is. Reaching out, you run your thumb over his scar, swallowing the lump of grief in your throat.

"I will never forget you. Thank you, for everything, Silco."

He watches you leave, a heavy feeling in his heart as he plays with ring sitting on his ring finger. Still, he can't stop the smile from forming on his face. It really was you. You're as strong as ever, forging on ahead no matter how difficult the path is and he's proud, even if it's you from another universe. But he's not. He's never been like you, he's always looked back, letting the past fuel him so he chases after you.

One last glimpse, he tells himself. One last time, then he'll let finally let you go.

One last time, you think to yourself, taking in your surroundings. This is the last time you'll ever see this universe, you're going home now, to your friends, your people, to the place where you created so many memories both good and bad.

As the arcane swirls around you, Powder enters the lab, watching with both awe and sadness. Ekko meets her gaze and you can see the conflict but also the resolve in his eyes. He would make a fine leader of Zaun, you think, maybe it's time to sit back and let the next generation break the cycle.

"Y/N!" Your head snaps in the direction of the voice. Silco?

He mouths something but the arcane is making too much noise for you to hear him. Yet, somehow, you know what he's saying. Smiling, you meet his gaze, a weight lifting itself off your chest.

I will always, remember you.

[frenchublog]

[fruity-blogs]

Sometimes...

Taking a leap forward means...

Leaving a few things behind.

[dismas-n-dismay]

Reminder that Hex quite literally means a spell/curse.

Hextech, hexcore, inherently it was all always meant to go wrong and was not meant to be there to save anyone- it was a curse to have befallen them.

The universe without the hextech is quite literally- Hexless.

[villainsheroes]

for anyone else that was confused about powder’s necklace: it’s ekko and powder!

[the-odd-shu]

I would recognise you in another lifetime

Masterlist: You do not need to read any of the previous works to understand this piece!

Relationship: Jayce/Viktor/Reader (polyamory)

Word Count: 15k

Summary: Alone and immune to the Mage’s magic, you continued to wander a destroyed Piltover.

OR

Reader and Viktor are having marital issues in the alternate dimension whilst Cannon!Jayce just tries to survive.

(Reader uses they/them pronouns.)

NOTE: So this began as a short, fun what-if scenario, but I seemed to get possessed and turned it into a fully fleshed out one-shot :) Here is the original post that inspired this piece. And HERE is the work uploaded on Ao3 if anything prefers to read over there.

The end of the world was cold. 

The wind seemed to scream with a thousand ghostly voices as it eagerly tugged at your clothes, forcing you to pull them tighter to your frame, or risk losing them. What little food you could scrounge up, was tasteless and dull; necessary fuel more than an enjoyable meal.

This new ‘perfect world’ was dark, and quiet and devoid of all of the colours that had first drawn you to the glittering City of Progress. You hated it. Even though a small part of you, not consumed by the desperation to survive and a burning rage, could still see a twisted beauty to this new, lonely world you inhabited. You had to squint hard to see it of course, but it was there.

There was an eerie beauty to the statue-like mechanical dolls dotted throughout the cities. Stood like sentries on both ends of the collapsed bridge, dotting the streets by the dozen, or perched upon dilapidated structures. They were uncanny, in all honesty. Machines playing at citizens. Specks of pure white in a world that was all shadow and gloom.  Motionless without the invisible hand and genius mind of a benevolent god to keep them vigilant. 

A god you were currently hiding from.

If there was one blessing that came out of the end of the world, it was that you had come out of the war with the ability to go unnoticed by the very man who had brought about its end. 

Even brushing shoulders in a crowd of his personal soldiers, you went unseen. Unnoticed. Unrecognised.

The figure striding uneasily along several paces ahead of you, was not so lucky. 

He did not notice, but those porcelain heads turned as he strode past. Held at bay by the will of their puppeteer.

Dressed in an overcoat of Piltovern white, this ghost from your past still walked with a certainty to his set shoulders that this world would eventually crack and break down. His journey into the city had stained his councilor’s jacket with flecks of mud, a hint of corruption already beginning to claw its way up one of his coat tails. 

The hammer perched on one broad shoulder had only just begun to erode from the force of the magic undetected in the air, but still held most of its original structure. It too was achingly familiar to you, and yet had been lost to time. Its presence brought back memories of long nights spent in a laboratory amongst friends who were on the verge of becoming even more precious to you. It reminded you of naps stolen on a couch too small for three people, and a chalkboard constantly brimming with new thoughts and ideas, alongside tiny doodles scrawled in the corners by your own hand.

Blinking back those bitter phantoms, you watched the figure struggle to navigate the crowd of dormant hivemind dolls. You could see from the paranoid toss and turn of his head, that he had begun to realise that the humanoid figures were not as statue-like as they seemed. In his peripheral vision, he would no doubt be seeing them stir and twitch jerkily, only for them to fall still again the moment he looked at them directly.

It was a necessary but cruel trick, played by the Mage who controlled them. A means to drill home the message that this ending was to be avoided at all costs. That this version of things could not be allowed to come to fruition again.

You trailed him at a distance. Close enough to keep him in view, but far back enough that he would not notice you. They never did. 

Far above him, and a whole, empty river ahead, the spire of Piltover’s Hexgate column shone in the sunlight as it cast a heavy shadow over the rest of the city. Even from so far down on the ground, you could just barely make out the hint of greenery growing across the dome’s surface.

Your quiet musing cut off at the sound of a scuffle up ahead. The unmistakable grind of metallic joints popping and spinning. You heard a panicked yelp, hurried footsteps, all before the silhouette of the man suddenly vanished from sight with a shriek of terror that promptly dissolved into sharp agony. 

The sound made your body instinctively lunge forward. The hivemind dolls had no use for cries of pain, let alone lungs. Their suffering had been erased alongside their identities, so there was no need- 

You wove under mechanical arms, skirted around marble bodies, and came to a sharp stop at the sight of a ravine. Far below, you could hear as another yelp and grunt abruptly cut off into a sharp, desperate whimper of pain, alongside the metallic crack of metal hitting stone. 

The trench was so deep, you could not see him in the darkness. Nor detect the glow of his hammer.

Damn it! 

Damn! 

It! 

Why did everything always have to be so difficult? How did all his alternate selves manage to throw you through a loop instead of following the blasted Mage STRAIGHT to the Hexgate dome like they were supposed too?

Idiots! The lot of them!

Jayce woke up. 

And that in itself was a miracle. 

His head throbbed as he lifted it from the cold, unforgiving stone floor. Wincing at the twinge of his neck, he felt a bruise already forming on the right side of his face, spanning from his temple down to his chin. Vision swimming, he tried to push himself up onto his elbows. The cold had seeped into his fingers from how long he’d been laying there, and had turned his toes numb. 

Unfeeling fingers dug down into the grainy dirt as he tried to heave himself up onto his knees, only for a bolt of pure agony to shoot up his leg when he tried to use his left leg. The following shout of pain ripped out of his throat before he could think to stifle it. It echoed out between the tight walls of the cavern, chasing itself up towards the surface far far above. 

Teeth ground tight against further sounds, Jayce ducked his head and peered down under his torso to find his pant leg bloody and the bones of his fibula tenting his trousers out at a weird angle. It was obviously broken, and had no doubt burst through his skin in the fall. Just the sight alone, had bile rising sharply up the back of his throat.

As his initial cry finally faded, the sound of rhythmic, dripping water reached Jayce’s ears. The damp stench hit him next, forcing itself up his nose, as the reality of his situation began to sink in.

He was at the bottom of a ravine. Injured. And stuck in some alternate reality, that was not his own. A reality where Piltover and Zaun alike had been destroyed. And worse of all, he was alone. 

No one would find him down here. 

The hooded Mage he had followed into the city hadn’t seemed to hear him when he called out. And apart from those humanoid creatures, he had not seen another soul throughout the entire trip into the city from the very outskirts-

“Jayce.”

His entire body went rigid at the hissed whisper. His head pounded from the tightening of his jaw. His leg cried out as every muscle seethed. He waited. Breath caught fast in his throat. 

Nothing but the sound of dripping water replied. He let his breath ease out of his mouth. Maybe he should have been a little concerned that he was already beginning to hear things-

“Jayce.” The same low whisper repeated. Closely followed by the sound of tiny pebbles dislodging from rock. To his right, he heard and then saw the soft click and patter of the tiny rock crumbs falling to the stone not far from where he lay.

Blinding panic slammed into Jayce, as his broken body twisted around with a snap.

The ravine echoed his panicked movements back to him. The slap of a clammy palm against unforgiving, icy stone. The whisper of his filthy clothes sliding against each other. The scrap of his boots along the jagged stone floor as they failed to find purchase. His leg protested all of the movement, but the feeling of being watched made Jayce’s panic all the more consuming and rabid.

"Who-who's there?" He demanded, his voice coming out cracked and uneven. A mockery of the confident ‘Man of Progress’ he pretended to be back home.

His mind unhelpfully supplied him with the featureless faces of the dolls far above. Terrifying suggestions of them having followed him down here. Of them creeping closer in the dark, undetected until it was too late for him to hope to stop them-

The shuffle of shoes on stone had his head snapping upwards so fast that his neck popped with sharp warmth. His entire body seized as he spotted a humanoid figure perched on a ledge a few feet above where he laid. Back lit by the surface, far, far above, the figure was crouched, and peering over the lip of the ledge. From his vantage point, Jayce could just make out the curl of their fingertips over the edge of the platform.

Somehow, it did not resemble the rest of the jerkily moving puppets on the surface. For starters, it actually had the vague shape of features on its face, ears and the suggestion of a nose, where those other creatures had been smooth, marble-like masks-

It has several eyes, Jayce realised with a sickening lurch of horror. Two in the normal places that humans had eyes that shone subtly in the poor lighting. And then five points across its forehead, that glowed with an unnatural, inner light. If Jayce had not been so terrified, he may have thought they were arranged like the points of a crown, but in that moment, every instinct in his screamed how unnatural the sight was. How much like prey he felt, looking up at it.

"Impossible." The thing whispered to itself, which was a testament to just how silent the ravine was that Jayce could hear it. The two glowing points where its human eyes were, flickered as it blinked slowly.

Then its shadow abruptly disappeared from view. Jayce’s brow furrowed as its fingers remained in his line of sight, where they flexed. Then its head appeared again. Before disappearing once more. It was being indecisive. For why, Jayce couldn’t tell.

And then it hissed out a quiet, “damn the Gods,” before it swung its leg over the edge of the ledge and began to climb down TOWARDS him.

Jayce’s heart leapt up into the base of his throat as his eyes blew wide at the speed in which it moved. He was unable to tear his eyes off it, as the thing fluidly found foot and hand holds in the seemingly smooth rockface. It moved with the surety of an uncanny mountain goat down the uneven terrain. Clearly, it had been navigating this habitat for some time. 

All too soon, its booted feet slammed down into the ground and it straightened up like a man.

Jayce’s eyes promptly leapt over to his hammer, embedded face down out of reach, then he dragged them back to the thing. The lighting was poor this deep in the ravine, but his eyes had adjusted enough to make out ruined, Piltover style clothes, worn shoes and scraggly, unkempt hair. 

Its head tilted, studying him as he studied it. And then, fearlessly, it approached him. 

Jayce yelped, his fingernails scraping against stone, as he tried - and failed - to scramble away.  The creature froze in place. Jayce rolled onto his back, his leg protesting every motion as he threw up his arm to shield his face."S-stay away!" He ordered, mentally cursing the wobble to the words. 

For a moment, it didn’t move. He could just hear it breathing. Slow and calm.

“Oh. Oh my Love." It whispered with audible gentleness to its hissed words. “What has he let happen to you?” Jayce’s brows furrowed at the odd phrasing, before he flinched as the thing smoothly lowered itself closer to his level. Its knees hit the stone with twin thumps, before it shuffled closer on all fours. A failed attempt at being nonthreatening.

His entire body tightened up defensively as it drew nearer, but it seemed to pay his reactions no mind. "I'll throttle that bastard the next time I lay eyes on him." It continued to mutter to itself, an underlying fury to its words now, although Jayce somehow knew he was not the cause of it. "Allowing you to suffer in the name of learning. As if you haven't had a rough several days already."

It let out a frustrated little huff as it continued to mutter to itself. A sound so weirdly familiar, that Jayce realised with a snag that he recognised the voice. His breath stuttered as he realised he hadn’t noticed before, because of how rough the words sounded, as if the creature hadn’t had use for human sounds for a long time.

Unaware of his slowly dawning realisation, he watched as it crawled closer to his leg. A small part of him sighed in relief that it hadn’t taken an interest in his head or anything vital, whilst another part screamed at him to defend his new weakness. 

He was so torn between the two, that he ended up with no time to react either way, as the figure stopped approaching a healthy hand's length away, and simply leaned over the bloodied limb with a sharp tut. “Definitely broken.” 

Jayce would have laughed at the dry analysis, if he were anywhere but trapped in the bottom of a ravine with a seven eyed stranger.

"I'm sorry, but who are you?" Jayce asked, like an idiot. 

And its seven, glowing eyes snapped up to his face. 

 In truth, he already knew the answer to his question, but he also didn't. This person may have sounded like his partner. May have shared similar speech patterns, and mannerisms with someone he held dear. But this person before him was foreign to him. They moved differently to who he was expecting. Acted differently to the person he knew so intimately.

"Oh." They said again, voice creaking. Head tilting in the bizarre way his partner’s never would have. "You do not recognise me." And oh, the sheer sadness laced between those words as good as sucker punched him. It awakened a knee-jerk reaction in Jayce that instantly made him want to smooth over the hurt. To offer sweet words in reassurance. 

He only barely managed to bite his tongue in time.

Not like this. He wanted to say. I know you, but I do not recognise you. Not like this.

“I cannot see you very well,” he said instead, words chosen carefully. 

And they hummed, sitting back on their hunches as their glowing gaze pinned him in place. 

“Perhaps,” they said quietly, more to themself than Jayce. “Maybe I can…” they trailed off, a grunt of effort escaping their lips.

For a heartbeat, there was only the drip of water in the background. Then the five points on their forehead flickered and burned with such an intensely white light that Jayce cried out and shielded his eyes. 

“Sorry. I do not tap into the magic very often.” They told him, sounding genuinely apologetic, before quickly adding in explanation, “it gives me a headache.”

Behind his clenched eyelids, Jayce watched as the light dimmed to a more manageable level. Slowly, he lowered his arm and peered over it, to find the figure before him was certainly more visible, the eyes on their forehead offering a soft output of light.

No, wait, those were not eyes. 

With a grunt of effort, Jayce lifted himself up into a sitting position, his own eyes narrowing as he realised that those glowing points were in fact runes. Runes that were now acting as their own light source, like a miner’s headlamp. They emitted a glow similar to the light of the Hexcore. Specifically, how the magic had glowed when it had been infused into Viktor’s limbs when he had reawakened and stumbled his way across the lab. 

Gods, that felt like a lifetime ago now, when it had merely been a matter of days.

The runes- which, now he was looking, seemed to have been carved into their forehead - tilted with their head to that unnatural angle again as the figure asked seriously, “better?”

The word instantly banished the lingering uncertainty from Jayce's mind as with a jolt, he registered the rest of their appearance outside of the runes. As he gazed upon a face he knew intimately, and yet looked alien to him now.

They looked tired, was his first thought. However long they had been here, the years had worn into their skin, adding weight beneath their eyes, and grey streaks to their hair. They were older than the person Jayce knew back home, and yet, there was still that light of mischief in the glint of their eye, beneath the exhaustion.

"What happened to you?" Jayce found himself asking, the words slipping out before he could fully register them.

They huffed out a laugh. As if his concern was amusing. “I could ask you the same thing, Love." They return easily, eyes dropping back to his broken leg. "You look like you've been through the ringer." 

There was a deep, heavy sadness to their voice. A grief that startled Jayce.

Jayce and his unlikely Companion swiftly realised that he couldn’t move very far with his leg busted up; not with any dignity at least. But between them, they managed to find the driest corner of the ravine to rest in. Jayce dragged himself over on his three working limbs, whilst his Companion disappeared into the gloom in search of something burnable to begin a fire.

They returned soon after, a dead lizard hanging by its tail in one hand, and a handful of plants and twigs in the other.

“It’ll smoke something awful,” they explained to Jayce as they sank down to their knees opposite him and began constructing a feeble campfire between them. “But it’ll burn.”

With quiet efficiency, they set to getting the fire going, hands practiced and certain, where in another life, they only knew how to hold a pencil. Jayce fondly remembered having to teach that version how to turn on the oven in the lab’s kitchenette. And here they were, starting sensible fires and skinning rainbow lizards in preparation for cooking. 

He was not even entirely sure where they had been keeping the knife, having not noticed it on their person earlier, and was even more surprised when it turned out that they knew how to use it. 

“How long has the world been like this?” Jayce found himself asking, hoping that a conversation would help take his mind off his still very broken leg.

The smooth slicing of the knife blade through scales halted as their eyes flickered up to him. Their eyebrows drew together in thought, causing the runes across their forehead to distort. “Hard to say.” They told him evenly, their expression weirdly unreadable. “The years began to blend together after a time.” Which wasn’t really much of an answer. 

The conversation trailed off as quickly as it had begun, and before he knew it, Jayce was smelling the lizard beginning to cook, and had blinked, only to realise that his Companion had at some point risen from their spot on the opposite side of the fire. He snapped his head round, only to find them reemerging from the gloom again, their knife cleaned and dripping with water, whilst their sleeves were visibly wet. At least neither of them would be dying from dehydration any time soon.

“We need to set your leg.” His Companion said by way of greeting, and Jayce grimaced, and sat up a little straighter.

The fever crept in quicker than Jayce had anticipated it would.

It wasn’t really much of a surprise, considering the injury, and the environment in which he had been injured in. But he and his Companion had tried their best to fend it off with what they had. 

Jayce tried to keep himself warm the first night by curling up as close to the fire as he could get without setting himself alight. He kept from worsening the injury by moving around with his other limbs, and upon his Companion’s firm insistence, remaining by the fire.

Wordlessly, they took it upon themselves to keep the flames stoked with burnable things. And disappeared off into the gloom beyond the light whenever Jayce’s stomach rumbled with hunger. They returned without fail, having caught some small, weird creature to cook for him. 

Vaguely, as the fever pressed in, Jayce noticed how they rarely ate anything they brought him unless prompted. He was not certain if it was because of the runes, or simply because they wanted him at full strength, but he had to practically force food into their hands. And then refuse to eat his own portion unless they ate with him. It never failed to put an exasperated smile on their face, which in turn filled Jayce with a little flicker of warmth. 

They were worried about him, he could tell. Could see it in the way they helped him clean and wrap his leg. Could see it in the careful way they handled the limb, eyes raking over the corrupted infection beginning to eat its way through his skin. Thick strings of sickly green and unnatural blue clung to the damp cloth they used to wipe the wound clean, to which they grimaced and Jayce simply tried not to look.

Instead, he occupied himself by theorising ways to get out of the ravine. His Companion even found him a stone with which to use the walls as a makeshift chalkboard. They kept the fire stoked, whilst Jayce theorised and scribbled all over the rock faces. Mapping out runes and scribbling down equations. Scrambling to find any possible way he could return home. 

The entire time, they withheld any suggestions that might have helped him figure out a way to help them both escape their current prison. Offering quiet hums or simply shaking their head when he tried to rope them into the conversation. 

At first, he found the avoidance weirdly endearing. An echo of late nights spent at the chalkboard with Viktor by his side as they tried to figure out an equation, whilst Y/n lingered by their desk, carefully sketching out the newest illustration for an assignment. Back then, both he and Viktor had tried to rope the Illustrator into their brainstorming, only to get unsatisfying hums in response, or the blank stare of someone who had not been paying attention.

But now, their lack of assistance quickly began to weigh on him, and Jayce at one point demanded at the height of his desperate attempts, for them to help him.

To which they had glanced up from the fire, regret swimming behind their eyes as they replied with obscure things like, “he’s testing you,” and “he won’t allow me to remain here if I make this too easy for you.”

The repetitive reference to some mysterious ‘him’ had been another piece of the puzzle that Jayce hadn’t been able to crack. They seemed to always be referring to some nameless ‘him’ with a tone of annoyance and sometimes hostility, but had failed to ever actually name ‘him’. Instead muttering about how if ‘he’ wanted Jayce to know ‘him’ yet, then ‘he’ would have already shown ‘himself.’

Jayce’s fever swept him under with a determination and intensity that left his mind scattered and foggy before he could truly get to the bottom of that one. 

In seemingly random intervals, Jayce burned. And then he froze. He would sweat, and he would shiver. And all the while, his leg festered. No amount of cleaning or rebandaging the wound with new, dirty pieces from either of their clothes would sooth the fire burning through his veins. 

With the constant presence of the pain, his paranoia seethed. He found his feverish gaze constantly flickering up to the top of the ravine, always expecting the humanoid forms of those machines to be peering back down at him.

Sometimes, he would snap awake from a nightmare and forget where he was. He would come to and see a figure sat on the other side of the low burning fire, and he would foggily register the seven glowing eyes and immediately sink into a blind panic. He would fumble for his hammer out of instinct, and then later be eternally grateful that it was always out of his reach. 

His Companion would startle in the face of his terror, only to flare their runes brightly with a wince to banish the darkness for him. Their face would come into focus, and Jayce would find himself relaxing every time. Regardless of the changes in their appearance from the familiar face he knew, Jayce still found comfort from just looking at them.

Once he had stopped panicking, they would then dull the lights back down to their usual glow before shuffling forward. They would call him ‘Love’ in that achingly gentle voice, and offer him grounding touches to further soothe him. And Jayce was so desperate for a kind hand that he melted into it every time. 

Panting from the dream, and still clammy and shaking, his body would automatically surrender to their concern, as they pressed cool rags to his burning forehead, and allowed him to lay his spinning head down in their lap, their fingers gently raking through his messy locks. He was in desperate need of a haircut, but wasn’t yet desperate enough to trust them to take a knife to it.

Once or twice, whilst he was dozing in their lap, he would come to, to the sound of them talking - snarling - at someone Jayce could not see. 

“I cannot fight this infection on my own.” He heard them grumble, their fingers still in his hair, massaging away the lingering headache with firm, soothing rolls of their fingertips along tense muscles.

There would always only be silence and the drip of water in response.

“If he dies again, you know I’ll never forgive you. Right?” They threatened the air, to which more silence would allow the words to fade into nothing. Unacknowledged. 

The only full-proof way to keep track of the days was to listen to the prickle of the temperature dropping. When night fell on the surface, Jayce could see his breath fogging in front of his face. The stone he sat on would begin to leech his warmth from his skin, and the warmth of the fire would begin to fail to reach him, regardless of how well stocked it was.

When those hours hit, his Companion would wordlessly sidle up to his side and huddle closer to him, offering a solid line of warmth along one side of his body. And Jayce, like the weak man he was, would curl into the offered comfort, like a cat luxuriating in a sunny spot.

Wordlessly, he would wind an arm around their back to draw them close, and in return, they would lay their head back on his shoulder, and curl their fingers tightly into his ruined jacket. Tucking their knees up close to their chest, they would lean into him, and in return Jayce would lean his head down against their hair.

Between bouts of fading fever, Jayce would flit between slumber and staring into the fire, whilst his Companion kept him warm. They remained stiff at his side for hours, shifting and shuffling whilst Jayce tried to recover.

Only rarely did he notice them actually falling asleep. But when they did, they went limp against his side. Dropping down hard into slumber. 

Their head would become heavy on his broad shoulder, but those fingers would never completely untangle from his coat, as if they subconsciously feared him slipping away whilst they rested. 

They seemed to completely trust Jayce when they were at their most vulnerable. And in this small way, Jayce was able to repay them for their kindness. For their willingness to help him, even if it meant clambering down into a freezing cold ravine with no real hope of being able to climb back out again.

It was in situations like this, that sometimes their rune riddled forehead would lightly rest against the exposed skin of Jayce’s throat. And sometimes, whilst he was still glaring into the flames of the fire, the magic residing within would offer glimpses of events that Jayce had never experienced.

The latest of which, he saw snapshots of the lab back home. Of it, as it was after Viktor woke up from his coma and broke out of his Hexcore-made chrysalis. He vaguely caught sight of the structure itself, the imprint left behind by Viktor’s body still darkening the centre of it, before the dream steered his focus to a desk.

He watched through someone else’s eyes as frantic hands slammed down a pile of notebooks. He recognised his own handwriting, alongside Viktor’s as the hands tore open the notebooks, flipping frantically through the pages until they came across the rune indexes in each. 

A pointer finger slid along carefully copied rune illustrations, drawn by the lab’s Illustrator, whilst Viktor of Jayce’s handwriting beneath accurately named the symbol and explained each of their hypothetical uses.

“Warding.” The body’s voice muttered aloud. “Protection. Exceleration. Shielding. Fuck. Fuck! Speed- oh, yes! Repel! Okay, okay, Repel. Warding might be useful. Probably can’t go wrong with Protection either. Shit. Fuck. Pen. Pen!”

He felt the weight of the marker pen in his dominant hand, and startled at the sight of someone else’s terrified face staring back at him in the reflection of a small, hand-held mirror. He felt the cold ink from the pen spreading across his forehead, as the body began to hurriedly scribble runes across it. 

In the back of his mind, Jayce felt dread bubbling. 

He was coming.

Jayce had no idea who ‘He’ was, but the terror crawling up the back of his throat felt like an instinct. As if what was to come was inevitable. Inescapable. Somehow, he knew that there was no way to calm the pounding of this body’s heart or soothe their frantic breathing or racing mind. There was only desperation, and the terror of a lone person clawing at a chance of survival until their fingernails cracked and bled. 

He blinked, and for a moment, he was back in the cave glaring into the fire. The deep seated terror closing his airways lingered, and then he blinked once more and was thrust back into the lab. 

The body he was in flinched hard as the lab doors behind him were slammed open. He heard the familiar gait of his partner’s footsteps, and knew in his soul that the ‘he’ who had come, was Viktor. And that the metallic after note of each step, was a byproduct of the man’s new body. 

Jayce felt sweat break out on his forehead as his eyes darted from Viktor’s approaching form in the mirror, to the useless ink marks standing out on his forehead. His stomach twisted into knots, although Jayce did not yet know why. This was Viktor after all. His Viktor. 

Jayce felt his body outside of the runes’ influence shiver when Viktor finally spoke. His accent was heavily woven between his vowels as he called out a low greeting, an unnatural, unsettling undertone altering his voice ever so slightly. If Jayce did not know the man as intimately as he did, he would never have noticed the difference. 

In the dream - no, the memory - the body that Jayce was hijacking, turned to meet Viktor as he rounded the Hexcore-made frame and approached the desk. Dressed in a navy robe artfully wound around his unnatural limbs, the man kept his footsteps slow and terrifying. His eyes shone with the light of the Arcane as he tilted his head alluringly. The staff he walked with tapped rhythmically with every step. The ticking of a bomb countdown.

"Join me." He coaxed sweetly, a mockery of the sweet words he used to utter when inviting one or both of his lovers into bed after a long day spent in the lab. A smile tugged at his thin lips, too tight to truly be a warm one.

The body Jayce was in firmly declined his offer. Shaking their head and clinging to their pen as if it would be a suitable weapon against the man cornering them. 

Viktor frowned. “You are certain of this?” He asked.

“Yes.” Viktor frowned. “I am sorry to hear that.” He said, like a warning. Jayce’s eyes darted down to the man’s hand, to his palm which had begun to subtly glow. The body he was in lurched, as if to run, but Viktor was faster. His hand shot out, like a snake’s unhinging jaw, and all five of his fingertips touched the body’s forehead. 

Jayce felt frozen, forced into submission, as he felt the magic flow out of Viktor and dig into his mind. His thoughts. Probing. Trying to force a connection.

Only to run into a wall. Abruptly, the useless runes etched across his skin ignited with a cutting, siring warmth, forcefully converting Viktor’s magic into a power source. It pushed back sharply against him, and Viktor recoiled with a shout, ripping his hand away.

There is a weird, iridescent light in Jayce's peripheral vision, as Viktor's form stumbled back, his once glowing hand grasping hard onto the edge of the desk to keep his footing.

Jayce's head snapped down, and his eyes connected with the little mirror on the desk, and he realised with a start that the simple pen marks had sunk down under his skin; having carved a permanent presence into the flesh.

"You- you shut me out." Viktor whispered, his voice oozing with hurt.

The words that shot forth from Jayce's mouth were not his own, as anger and betrayal coated them thickly. "You tried to erase me!" The body he was in snarled, "you wanted to turn me into one of your mindless puppets!"

"Not erase, no! I would never erase you!" Viktor tried to reassure, looking horrified at the mere suggestion. "I just wanted to help you see-" but the dream slipped away before Jayce could be convinced.

The head resting on his shoulder abruptly snapped upwards, severing the connection, and forcing Jayce back into the cave. The echoes of what he had just witnessed followed him back to the smell of damp, and the crackle of the fire. 

The warmth at his side retreated as his Companion sat up and pulled away from him. They were breathing hard, hands shaking as shrunken pupils stared unseeingly ahead. Air sawed in and out of their mouth at a rapidly accelerating pace. The runes on their forehead burned with light. The beams they gave off were so strong, that they shone dancing iridescent light across the opposite cave wall.

Stomach sinking, Jayce carefully reached across the gap between them to lightly touch their shoulder. They flinched away from him; hard. Their hand instinctively scrambled for their boot where he now knew they kept their knife. 

“Hey.” Jayce tried to soothe, his voice too loud amongst the popping of the flames and their quiet, desperate breaths. “You’re not in the lab anymore. You’re in the ravine. Remember? With Jayce?”

They blinked, and their eyes suddenly came into focus, their pupils widening rapidly before shrinking back to their usual size.

Jayce remained frozen where he was, his hand still raised, and his expression open and understanding.

“Jayce.” They repeated quietly in a long breath, rolling the name over their tongue. The tension bled from their shoulders with the exhale, as their hand slid back out of their boot to instead flop onto the stone beside their thigh. 

“Yeah. Jayce.” He repeated, carefully shuffling closer without jostling his bad leg. “Can I touch you?” His hand still hovered, but he did not touch them yet. His partner was not like him in that regard. Where he was the type to throw himself into a hug and allow his mind to catch up later, they seemed to respond better to grounding themselves in their surroundings before searching for comfort. 

“Please.” They whispered quietly, barely loud enough for Jayce to hear. But he did. And he was ready for them when they slid closer to him and sank into his waiting arms. He wrapped them tightly up in his grip, hating how they felt so small compared to the person he knew. Not fragile, mind you, but smaller as if meals were scarce, which they might well be considering the kind of world they lived in.

Scrambling to pull his mind away from the bleak thought, he rubbed their back and said tightly, “that was some dream.” 

They went stiff in his arms, and then pulled back, expression searching. Jayce tried to keep a hold of his easy going smile, but the way their face shuttered with realisation told him he was failing. ���Wait. You saw that?”

Sheepishly, he nodded, to which they groaned and sunk back down to hide under his chin. 

He could feel his stubble catching on their hair as they went, and mentally mourned his clean shave. The first thing he was doing when he got home was locking himself away to deal with all this unnecessary hair.

“It wasn’t a dream.” His Companion quietly admitted into the front of Jayce’s shirt.

To which he simply continued to run his hand up and down their back. As steady and comforting as he could manage. “Oh?”

“It was a memory.”

Jayce’s hand fell still as their breath stuttered. “Viktor?” Jayce said aloud, feeling the way his Companion tensed at the softly uttered name. “Viktor did this to you? The runes?”

They did not correct him, and Jayce’s stomach sank. “But that isn’t like Viktor at all. That man looked like him but he wasn’t Viktor.” Jayce tried to argue. 

“I’m not lying.” They tried to argue, beginning to push against Jayce’s chest in retaliation. “I wouldn’t lie about something like this.” They repeated with more conviction. 

“I’m not saying you are.” Jayce tried to soothe, loosening his grip so they could pull back, but not entirely letting go. “But what you’re saying doesn’t line up with what I know about my Viktor. Maybe yours is different?”

Their expression turned pained, and those eyes flickered away. “Maybe.” They said neutrally, and Jayce felt his heart clench.

“What? What did I say wrong?” He asked automatically, but they were already trying to pull away again. And this time he let them go. 

They rose on silent feet and rounded the fire. Movements fluid with a bite to their step that just further confirmed what Jayce had feared. He had offended them. Somewhere along the conversation, he had put his foot on something fragile, and they had raised their hackles to scare him off.

Absently, he wondered if they would turn tail into the darkness and leave him alone here as punishment.

“He wasn’t in his right mind when he tried to do it.” Their voice argued, as they pointedly reached a stretch of flat stone directly opposite Jayce on the other side of the fire, before sitting down heavily. Something tight in Jayce’s chest loosened at the middle ground. A silent ask for distance without outright abandoning him. “And when he was like that, no, didn’t seem to be a word he understood.”

“I believe you.” Jayce easily agreed to which they hummed, and turned their attention down to the flames.

Come morning, they seemed to have forgiven him for whatever his misstep was.

“We need to refresh the bandages.” They said by way of explanation, before rounding the smouldering fire to offer Jayce a hand up. 

With a lot of grunting and readjusting, they managed to loop an arm around his waist, whilst Jayce slung his own over their shoulders. They quietly cursed as he used them as a glorified crutch to hobble over to the water pool a little ways back from their camp. 

It was a glorified puddle rather than an actual pond, with a tiny stream feeding into it from a smaller pocket of water higher up in the far wall. 

He was lowered down with care, his bad leg stretched out in front of him. His Companion dropped into a crouch at his side, their runes flaring once more with a poorly concealed wince, before they leant over his leg. With steady hands, they carefully began to unwind the strip of their shirt that had previously been the bandage. Strings of green goo clung to the underside of the fabric when they pulled it back, causing Jayce to wince and turn his head away.

“Well, it’s not worse.” His Companion helpfully informed him, to which Jayce let out a tense laugh.

“So we don’t need to cut it off yet, Doc?”

They hummed thoughtfully, tossing the soiled rag aside, before sliding their knife from their boot to begin cutting a fresh strip off. “Not yet. The infection is remaining close to the entry wound. If it gets into your blood, then we’ll talk about hacking off your leg with my butter knife.” “Gods, that is a horrible image.” “Then don’t imagine it.” They dryly informed him. Jayce watched them with a fond little tug at his lips, so engrossed by their chatter that he almost didn’t notice the weight of eyes on him.

Almost.

The hairs along the nape of his neck began to rise, as goosebumps prickled beneath his sleeves. Tensing, Jayce instinctively glanced up, his fever dreams of the dolls silhouettes staring back down at him making his heart leap. But of course, there was nothing there. Aside from his current company, nothing had followed him down into the ravine.

Then he saw a flash of dull white standing out against the gloom on the opposite side of the lake, and his mouth went dry. Eyes widening, his eyes fell on a figure shrouded in a simple cloak, grasping a staff. The same hooded figure he had followed to the city from the wilds. The figure that resembled the Mage from his childhood. 

The sound of fabric being sliced through, abruptly cut off.

"Oi!" 

Jayce jumped at the almighty bellow that punched its way out of the person beside him. 

Unbothered, the figure across the lake slowly turned their hooded head towards Jayce’s Companion. 

"Fuck off!" They spat venomously. 

The figure did not move. 

Jayce blinked, and the other side of the water was suddenly empty. 

They huffed out an angry breath. "Nosy bastard." They muttered sharply, tucking the knife away before bending forward to wet the cloth. "Keeping fucking tabs on me."

“Wh-who was that?” They huffed. “Already told you, ‘he’ll’ introduce him when ‘he’ deems it time, the prick.” 

Jayce needed his mobility back. 

He needed out of this ravine, and he could not do so on a leg that threatened to rebreak itself every time he put his weight on it.

He had mapped out every equation. Had brainstormed every possible scenario. And the answer he had reached, was the same way he had ended up here. He needed to be able to climb out. But to do that, he needed a brace for his leg. The materials of which, he decided he would simply take from his hammer. Simple. He had created more complicated things with worse materials before. 

It just so happened that his Companion had wandered off to mutter to themselves again when he began, so they returned to find his leg mostly encased in various pieces of metal with torn off strips of his shirt barely holding it all together, whilst the remainder of the hammer lay scattered around him in parts.

“What’ve you got on the go here?” “What will hopefully become a mobility aid.” Jayce replied simply, torn between watching them sink into a crouch at his side, and tightening the latest fabric strip.

“Ah, like Viktor’s leg brace.” They mused, making Jayce’s hands falter. Outside of the weird memories, that was the first time they’d mentioned Viktor by name in front of him. It made his stomach sink to think why that was. 

“Hold this steady for me.” He instructed instead of dwelling on the thought.

They raised their brows and tried to back out. “You know I do not have the hands of a mechanic.” They tried to dissuade him, to which Jayce simply pushed the metal pieces into their limp hands. They grasped them obediently, but continued to be weary as Jayce turned his attention to his ankle. “If you handed me a pen however.” They trailed the sentence off into a tight laugh that led nowhere. “Gods, I never thought I’d miss pens of all things. Or paper.” Jayce frowned. “Do you not draw anymore?” “Not as much as I would like to.” They replied, “the spark kind of died when everyone else did. And the world has lost its colour.” And beat of silence, to which they promptly added, “which you saw a few days ago, of course. There literally feels like there’s no colour anymore, which of course is half of the fun when you’re drawing. Besides, my sketchbook did not survive the test of time.” They rambled before promptly adding, “I have charcoal at least. Keeps my hands busy.” Closely followed by yet another beat of uncomfortable silence.

Jayce had nodded along through the whole ramble, having had more than enough practice in doing so back in the lab. As he listened, he finished off binding his ankle into place, before he gave his knee an experimental roll to see if the knee joint was aligned. It clicked along the gear joints but seemed to be holding.

The soft click of metal had drawn their attention back to the present, and they quietly muttered, “I forget how smart you are sometimes.” That startled a flush onto Jayce’s cheeks and his eyes into looking up at them, and oh, oh no. The grief was back in their face. 

“Book smart.” They quickly added. “Just to clarify. No offence, Love, but street smarts were never truly one of your strengths.” Jayce let a small smile cross his face at the words. They brought back fond memories of venturing into Zaun with Viktor to haggle for machine parts, only to end up getting charged three times the actual price. He had never really mastered that particular skill, and had simply relied on Viktor’s common sense to see him through.

His Companion cleared their throat when he did not immediately respond, and slowly withdrew their hands from the metal parts they’d been holding in place. They held together beautifully, much to Jayce’s relief.

“Do you need anything from the surface?” They asked, eyes flickering up and down the brace. “It would take a day or two to hunt down tools not fully corrupted, but I’m sure I could find something?” 

Jayce frowned back at them. Genuinely at a loss for words. 

“What?” They asked, glancing over their shoulder as if the hooded figure was back.

“You- you could have left this entire time?”

They narrowed their eyes at him. “Yes?” 

“But you didn’t?” “Of course not.” “Why?” Jayce demanded with more conviction and surprise than he had anticipated feeling on the subject. “Why would you waste days down here? With me?” They huffed and rolled their eyes at him as if he were the one being unreasonable. “Because you don’t do well in the cold, Jayce.” They told him simply. 

And Jayce couldn’t help but think of the fire that they had kept constantly burning. Of the nights spent huddled up together. The countless times he had woken up shivering, panic bitter on the back of his tongue, only for warm hands to soothe him back into slumber. Effortlessly banishing dreams of snow and mages, beneath rune infused memories of the lab and all the chaos he used to get up to with his partners, back before everything went so horribly wrong.

Within the hour, they began the long climb out. 

The brace held, and Jayce couldn’t help but take that as a win, despite the loss of his weapon.

True to their word, his Companion did in fact navigate the climb up easily. As agile as they had been when clambering down to assist him that very first day. They were attentive, whilst showing him the easiest footholds to use. Constantly glancing back down at him, as Jayce huffed and puffed and struggled to put one hand above the other. 

The long days spent resting had zapped his stamina. Whilst his bound leg offered constant protests to his every move. But Jayce forced himself to persist.

“Come on, Love.” His Companion encouraged for what felt like the hundredth time, having found a ledge wide enough to take a rest break on. They had already leaned over the edge to offer him their hand. “We will catch our breath here for a moment.” “I can keep going.” Jayce tried to insist as they caught his wrist and began hauling him up. He pushed with his good leg, his unoccupied hand grasping firmly onto the lip of the ledge. “I do not doubt that,” they reassured him as his knee hit the rock, and he was guided away from the drop. “But it will be a more pleasant climb if it is not out of desperation. We have time.”

Jayce’s good leg slipped as a foothold caved under his weight. He cried out. Nails digging into the rock as he body lurched dangerously. 

Above, there was a flurry of movement. The blur of glowing runes leaving trails of light as their owner slid back down the rockface to grab him before he tumbled back down into the darkness.

They grunted from his additional weight, fingers like a shackle around his wrist. Keeping him from slipping further. Jayce somehow knew they wouldn’t let him fall. Even if it were out of sheer stubbornness rather than available strength.

“Love.” They strained, and Jayce shook his head as he scrambled for new handholds and somewhere to put his dangling foot. “I am NOT spending any more days down there.” They informed him firmly. “We’re so close. Come on, one last push!”

And they were. Jayce could actually see a sliver of sunlight along one of the cracks. Could smell fresh rain, alongside the damp of the stone. The sound of raindrops felt like music to his ears. A fresh melody after the maddening tempo of dripping stalactites.

The pair climbed out of the ravine, and then continued upwards. 

The mechanical dolls had already begun to shift and turn their heads towards him, as Jayce panted and scrambled to find his legs. Only for the machines to promptly fall still as Jayce’s hand was promptly snatched up and tightly intertwined with that of his Companion. The touch sending a sharp but pleasant tingle down his arm.

“They will not be able to sense you, so long as you hold onto me.” “A byproduct of the runes?”

They nodded, and then began dragging him through the crowd, following Jayce’s original path. How they knew what direction he planned to head in, he was not certain, but the warmth of their hand in his helped him to think past it.

Together, they climbed and scaled and clawed their way up to the only part of the world seemingly untouched by the bleakness of the corruption. A stretch of greenery that spanned across the top of the Hexgate dome, cracked and fractured but no less beautiful. At the far edge of a platform, knelt a lone figure clutching what at first glance, looked to be a long stick. Head bowed as if in prayer.

The warmth of the hand in his abruptly slipped away as Jayce’s Companion let out a soft sigh and began making their way towards the figure. The surety in their step spoke of time spent in this patch of sunlight before. A thought given evidence when they approached the statue and greeted it like a slumbering sweetheart.

“Good Morning, my Love.” They whispered, voice swimming with warmth and fondness. Jayce followed half a step behind, watching with a frown as they leaned down to press a light kiss to the temple of the statue. They withdrew just as quickly, trailing tender fingers down the figure’s marble cheek, to its shoulder, before trailing light fingertips around its back. The plants growing out of its back bent easily to their touch, before seeming to bloom and reach back.

It was an odd sight to behold. Plants did not act like that when disturbed, or at least they shouldn’t. But then again, this dimension was full of mechanical dolls instead of citizens. And Jayce currently stood before a person who wore his lover’s face. So, putting everything else into perspective, the plants seeming to arch into a gentle touch, wasn’t all that strange of a sight.

“Who was he?” Jayce found himself asking, eyes sliding back to the face of the bowing figure. To the metal flecked hands wound around the handle of what Jayce realised with a sickening drop of his stomach, was a perfect replica of his hammer. As it was after being corrupted from the ravine; warped and uneven.

His Companion smiled sadly at his question. “Look closer, Jayce.”

His eyes flickered up to their calm expression, and then back down to the statue. To the echoes of a face almost entirely erased beneath the white marble. To the tiny garden of plants thriving within the broken crown of its skull.

It was the first mechanical being Jayce had seen so far, that still clung onto its past identity. Its facial features have not entirely been erased or consumed by gleaming gold or purifying white.

With a tired groan, he lowered himself down to his knees, his bad leg throbbing from the angle change. 

It turned out that kneeling down, had him at the perfect height to stare straight ahead into the statue’s blank, half-opened eyes, the suggestion of lax pupils and irises staring back at him. His gaze trailed up, to the arch of a brow before sliding in towards the inner eye and down the slope of a nose. A nose Jayce had spent a lifetime scrutinising in the mirror-

In his peripheral vision, a flash of blinding white had Jayce’s head snapping away from studying the statue. 

As before, his Companion stood over the statue’s shoulder like some imitation of a solemn angel, but it wasn’t them that had Jayce’s body startling. 

It was the ominously hooded figure looming just behind them. Under the weight of his gaze, that hooded head turned towards Jayce. Stood so still and silently, the Mage oozed power. The very galaxies appeared to have been caught in the shadow of their hood. Whereas tendrils of the arcane had sunk into the fibres of their hooded cloak, bleaching bursts of pink and blue in arching webs across the fabric.

The spell was abruptly shattered, when Jayce’s Companion suddenly rounded on the hooded figure, hands clenched into fists at their sides. “You know,” they sharply lectured, back straight as the robed figure jumped. “Normally, people say, hi, instead of just appearing soundlessly!”

The hooded figure seemed to fumble for a response. Head snapping to them as if the Mage had not been expecting his Companion to address him at all. Undeterred, Jayce watched as their shoulders remained tense as they pointedly looked the Mage up and down. “And what the hell are you wearing?” Jayce winced at the venom in those words. 

The Mage’s shoulders slumped dramatically, before they motioned theatrically to Jayce, which just earned them a humourless huff.

“Really? You’re trying not to scare him?” They dryly asked, making Jayce question how they had managed to get all of that from a simple look and gesture. “Well, you could’ve fooled me.”

The Mage sighed tiredly, fingers tightening around their staff. “Y/n, please.” They huffed, and the familiarity of that accented voice sent a pang of intense longing through Jayce. So much so that his stomach physically twisted at the pleading undertone to those raw words.

“...Viktor?”

Both dimensional variations of Jayce’s lovers stiffened at his quiet question.

“Uh, Jayce, I-” The Mage looked at his Companion for support, his hood obscuring his features, but somehow his exasperation shone through just as well. 

To their credit, his Companion just shrugged. “It’s not my fault you changed everything but your voice.”

The Mage huffed audibly. “Well if you hadn’t been here to mess up my introduction, then we wouldn’t be having this problem.”

Jayce watched as Y/n’s shoulders bunched, their knuckles tightening as they opened their mouth to snap back, but thankfully Jayce was the first to speak.

“Look!” He said loudly, startling both of them into holding their tongues. “I don’t understand what’s going on. I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t know why I’m in the city, or why you’ve both guided me up here. So will someone please start explaining?”

His questions earned him another exchange of looks from the pair. A tense shake of the head from one, and a shrug from the other. 

Jayce did not like the heavy tension drawing tight between the two. The worst disagreement he’d ever witnessed between his Viktor and Y/n had been a ten minute back and forth where Y/n had misplaced one of Viktor’s notebooks and he had blown up at them for it. The notebook - thankfully - had been found mere moments later, but the fight had been terrifying for Jayce to witness all the same.

Clearly, whatever had fractured the bond here and left the two of them snapping at one another, had been far more significant than a simple misplaced notebook. And something told Jayce that the figure currently knelt before them was the main cause of it.

With a sigh, the Mage with Viktor’s voice stepped forward and tilted his head up just so. The sunlight finally penetrated the starry darkness collected beneath his hood, gently curling over his cheek and breathing warmth into his magically iridescent eyes. Jayce’s breath got stuck in his throat at the sight those familiar eyes turned soft with an untold emotion, of facial hair and clear signs of age on Viktor’s face. 

It was then that the Mage finally began to explain.

"Send him back." 

Stood a little ways back from the pair of them, Y/n had their arms wrapped tightly around themself as they flicked their frosty expression over to a tense Viktor. When the Mage looked back at them, their jaw tightened and they raised their chin. Preparing for a fight. 

“It is only fair." They added.

"I was always going to." Viktor snapped back, just as sharply.

To which Jayce couldn’t fully conceal his wince. He had scarcely been in their collective presence for more than half an hour, and it had taken every molecule of councilor decorum to keep from sitting the both of them down for a much needed conversation. Whenever the Mage wasn’t looking, Y/n kept shooting him sad, uncomfortable looks, as if they wanted to add their input, but couldn’t quite find the right words. Whereas, Viktor had just seemed to keep his expression smooth and his head constantly turned away from the human. And it was honestly painful to watch.

Despite their differences, they were both so clearly similar to the people Jayce knew and loved that he almost didn’t want to leave them here with the petrified version of himself for silent company. But unfortunately, with a world to save, and his actual partners to track down, he was already stretched pretty thin.

So when the Mage turned back to Jayce, a silent question in his eyes, Jayce hardened his eyes, clutched his borrowed hammer tighter and firmly told him to send him back.

Viktor had complied readily. A hand emerged from the folds of his cloak, the fingers tattooed with blue runes and elegantly spaced lines encircling his fingertips. The runes on his knuckles began to glow, his hand raising in front of him to focus his magic towards Jayce.

Y/n shifted away from him as the tattoos along his arm began to light up as well. Their mouth was drawn into a tight line as they crossed their arms. Jayce caught a glimpse of the hesitance in their eyes. Noticed the way their own runes dimmed when sitting in direct comparison to the magic Viktor wielded with ease.

The sight had a stray thought slamming into Jayce, as his mind jumped to a dream shared in the darkness of the ravine. The panic the memory had brought on, and the stilted answers he’d failed to pull from them. The unease that settled low in his belly was unbalancing enough for him to throw out a panicked, “wait!”

Both Mage and human startled at his sudden declaration. The hand of the former freezing mid-cast, causing the swirling sphere of light that had begun to flash around Jayce to still. Whereas the latter took several concerned steps forward, a question already on their lips.

“Y/n, do not get too close.” Viktor warned evenly, to which they shot him a sharp look.

Before the pair could dissolve into another sharp spat, Jayce licked his lips and caught the human’s attention. “Your runes,” he said desperately, “can you give me the combination so I can help my Y/n?”

Their expression eased at his words, as it often did when they were about to call him ‘Love’. Only this time, the look was tinged with regret as they began to shake their head.

Jayce’s stomach dropped.

“I could,” they told him carefully, “but it would not help you.”

“What do you mean?” Jayce demanded, feeling a sharp stab of panic rip through him.

The human and Mage exchanged another tense look. Viktor inclined his head. Whether granting permission or offering them the choice to answer, Jayce was not entirely sure.

Y/n took another small step towards him, keeping him from picking the action apart for too long. "You see, that interaction between them and The Herald happens whilst you're stuck in this universe. By the time we send you back, you won’t be able to do anything, correct runes or not. It is down to them and luck if they manage to find the correct combination to remain separate from the hivemind."

"So there is nothing I can do?"

The Mage shook his head, and offered his own input. "Sometimes they are lucky. But in most timelines, they fall to The Herald like everyone else he attempts to cure."

Jayce was gone. Again. Returned to his own dimension to hopefully have a better chance at a happy ending than this world had.

The light had scarcely dissipated from Viktor’s fingertips, before his lover was turning to him with a sharp look in their eye. “Drop the illusion.” They ordered him flippantly, eyes flicking across his robe and bearded face. 

Viktor almost smiled back, almost teased that the form had grown on him, but he could tell from the way they held themselves that their patience was thin today. 

So instead, he allowed his form to flicker, and then change. His white robe shrunk and stretched to become his typical two tailed cloak wrapped around his shoulders. Whilst the galaxy previously trapped beneath the fabric stretched out to cover his skin, which began to erode and return to its unique combination of metal and tendons. Between one blink and the next, his face split and his mask unfolded over his slumbering expression like a mushroom cap emerging from the stem.

“Better?” He asked humorlessly, glancing down at his Lover, who was now significantly shorter than him. They did not flinch away at his distorted voice in this newer, taller, stronger form. It had been so long since the end of everything, that now, they barely seemed to acknowledge the difference between his forms. And he had not sensed fear in the air when they looked upon him like this for years. A small mercy. 

They looked him up and down judgmentally, before shrugging. “Sure.” They said impassively, “whatever helps you sleep at night.” Viktor decided with great self-preservation to not remind them that he did not in fact sleep anymore. Which of course earned him another light jab.

“You couldn’t even grow a beard in that body,” his Lover commented absently, “so why did you give yourself one this time?” “I thought it would look dashing.” He replied simply. “Do you not agree?”

They rolled their eyes with a ghost of fondness in their face. “You forgot the mole under your right eye this time.”

“Oh. Then I am lucky Jayce did not notice.” Viktor relented easily. After so long, the details of that original body had begun to evade him after all. Sometimes it was the eye colour infused with the power of the Hexcore that he forgot. Other times it was the shade of his hair, or the exact length of his nose. Tiny, meaningless things that his Lover seemed to notice every time regardless.

“Speaking of Jayce,” Viktor began slowly, “you spoke to this one.”

“He was injured.” They returned sharply, avoiding his gaze. “He could have died down there.” “I would not have let him.” “And how was I to know that?” They demanded. “Our paths have not crossed outside of this ritual for decades, Viktor. We have not spoken properly since you destroyed everything.” “Because you hid from me. I could not find you. I tried to find you.” They swallowed audibly. “I had nothing to say to you.”

The usual routine of the world fell back into step the following dawn.

Viktor waited on the dome of the Hexgates to watch the sunrise with Jayce’s statue, as the pair waited for their human Companion to find them. The Mage was not entirely sure where they went when they were not visiting Jayce and pointedly ignoring him, nor could he really find out on his own thanks to those blasted runes, but it was enough that they turned up at all.

There was no dimensional traveller to guide today, so they turned up an hour later than usual. Freshly washed and dressed in clean attire after so many days spent down in the cave tending to the latest Jayce in the depths of Zaun. It would have been a sweet thought if Viktor hadn’t been tearing the world apart trying to locate the both of them.

But they were fine. And they were here now, crossing Jayce’s blooming resting place to drop a kiss to the statue’s cold forehead and sink to their knees before him. From his spot on the grass a short distance away, Viktor watched with quietly amused eyes as they pulled a stick of charcoal out of their pocket and began carefully drawing out a series of runes across Jayce’s forehead.

It was a daily tradition by now, for them to do so. And for Viktor to watch them try for hours on end. They had grown so familiar with the runes, that they no longer needed to consult a notebook or Viktor’s extensive knowledge to accurately draw the symbols out. 

He had tried fruitlessly in the beginning to dissuade them from wasting their time. After all, what Viktor had done to their lover was permanent, and could not be reversed. To which they had turned on him with a burning fury and not so kindly told him to stick his pessimism back up his ‘cosmic ass’.

So Viktor had stopped offering his input. And they had stopped talking to him unless absolutely necessary. They carefully drew out the rune combinations, and Viktor lingered nearby. Quietly watching and regretting everything that had the three of them to where they were now.

What he hated the most however, were the runes on his human love’s forehead, which prevented him from offering so much as a glimpse into his thoughts. That kept him from honestly showing them just how remorseful he was. From showing them just how many times he had tried to reverse his mistake. How many times he had tried and failed to bring Jayce back for them.

"Hand." They demanded then, snapping him out of his thoughts with a start. They withdrew their stick of charcoal from Jayce’s cracked, marble-like forehead and held out their own hand expectantly.

Used to the routine by now, Viktor obediently leaned across the short distance and gave them the limb. His hand dwarfed their’s worse than Jayce’s ever had. A twisted mass of purple tendons and metal, which they gently wrapped their fingers around as far around his wrist as they could go before they guided his outstretched fingertips to the charcoal symbols.

They were always gentle with him in that regard. Despite how furious they were at him for ending the world. In spite of how powerful and imposing he was now, and how difficult he’d actually become to hurt - ridiculous pain tolerance aside. And somehow, the gentleness just made everything so much worse.

The marks did not flare to life. They dropped his wrist, and Viktor pulled back as they wiped away the old runes and set to writing down a fresh set.

"Though your determination is admirable, have you not grown bored yet?" He asked, as he asked them everyday.

"No."

"This isn't working."

"It will."

"There are hundreds of thousands of possibilities. Endless conceivable combinations. There is no way you will be able to try them all."

But instead of ignoring him as they always did, they turned to him today. Their eyes burned with a new found determination. With a light that had Viktor’s tongue going dry.

"Jayce wouldn't give up." They told him sharply, and oh, Viktor hadn’t heard that tone in years, and he hadn’t even realised he’d missed it. "If our roles were reversed, he wouldn't give up on us. Or did that Jayce's determination mean nothing to you." They finished, motioning to the place the other Jayce had been standing just yesterday, having been freshly prepared for the hell he would have to deal with upon returning home.

Viktor lapsed into silence. Eyes distant as he glanced from his blank faced Lover to the meadow of flowers he has cultivated for their late love.

“What?” They pushed an ounce of venom oozing into the word. “No witty quip about how you preferred the silence? How you would have preferred I remained out of your sight, allowing you to revel in the peace a little longer?” “No.” Viktor replied carefully, suddenly wrong footed. “You know I wouldn’t. Prefer it, that is.”

And something cracks open wide in their expression. A loosening to their tightly knotted eyebrows. A widening of their pupils as if something had just clicked into place. Shock perhaps? Realisation? 

“Oh.”

They turned away from him instead of elaborating, some of that hostile wind leaving their sails. 

Viktor could only watch on, a nugget of relief sitting low in his chest, as he was once again silently grateful for the luck of that rune combination working out in this timeline. That he hadn’t succeeded in erasing them. That their sharp tongue and fierce determination outlived his short-sighted thirst for power and submission.

"Hand." 

And like clockwork, Viktor offered it to them.

Their grasp on his wrist remained careful, but firm. So small compared to his much larger form. But fearless in the way they directed him.

Viktor’s fingertips smudged the charcoal when his fingers lightly touched Jayce’s forehead, as the Mage carefully reached inside in search of that thread within Jayce's dormant subconsciousness. He never quite knew what he was searching for when they did this, but he did know that the first time, the wall of resistance had come out of seemingly nowhere, and had shut out his probing touch with an unapologetic firmness. 

But as it always seemed to, Jayce's mind opened up to Viktor and his fingers sank in. Jayce's memories and emotions swirled beneath his fingertips, so fragile and so precious. With a bittersweet smile, Viktor offered him a parting burst of love and adoration before withdrawing. Jayce slumbered on, if not a little easier with the magical nudge.

There was a huff beside him as he withdrew his hand back to his staff. Viktor glanced down at his Companion, whose shoulders were drooping as they tenderly reached up with a damp, charcoal smudged rag to wipe the old runes away, before they took up their charcoal stick and began to draw new ones on.

There was a set to their brow this time. The subtlest of wobbles to their lower lip that made Viktor's stomach twist with guilt and longing. He wanted to reach out and gently pull the charcoal from their hand. To murmur that they needed a break before gathering them to him, but he knew from experience that he would just end up getting shoved away, and they would run from him. That they would use their runes to their advantage to conceal themselves from him.

"I miss him." They whispered under their breath, and Viktor's eyes closed tightly against the sheer pain in their tone.

"As do I." He reassured them, and they smiled tightly at him.

Wordlessly, they reached out for Viktor's hand, and he readily gave it to them. What stunned him however, was how instead of simply placing his fingers for him, they instead brought it to their lips first, and pressed a kiss to the back of it. Their eyes shone when he stared at them in shock, the affection so deeply missed, that for a moment, he was rendered speechless.

His eyes studied their expression, their posture, the magical void produced by their runes. Trying and failing to figure out what had changed. What had induced the whisper of affection he so desperately craved.

"I am still mad at you." They clarified wetly, "but I miss you too, Viktor."

And oh by the Gods, he almost caved right then and there. Just the quiet utterance of his name said so sweetly, so sadly, almost had him losing his cool. Almost had him throwing caution to the wind and hauling them into his lap regardless of the consequences. It was only sheer stubbornness that kept him seated where he was.

He wanted instead to reassure them that he was still here with them. That he had been here the entire time, despite being a little different. Despite having changed. That deep down, he was still their Viktor, and no amount of magic or Hexcore influence could truly take him from them.

But he ended up voicing none of those things to them, because they had already turned away and lifted his offered hand to Jayce’s forehead.

Viktor's fingertips made contact, and sank down into Jayce’s consciousness, all before jolting to a sharp stop. The Mage’s attention flickered fully to the forehead of the statue, where he felt a resistance beginning to bubble. All before the runes under his fingertips burst to life. He let out a pained cry, as his magic was snatched from his grasp, and turned to repel him. 

The grip on his wrist suddenly tightened, and his hand was torn away, severing the connection before the runes could take too much, but not before a sickening crack echoed out across the meadow. For one nauseating moment, Viktor thought he’d finally done it. That he had somehow managed to destroy Jayce’s statue. 

But no, it wasn’t the crack of Jayce’s statue body crumbling to dust. It was the sound of his hands - still outstretched towards his absent hammer - suddenly dropping to his sides as if all the solid particles in his limbs had turned to liquid molecules.

Viktor shot to his feet in moments. 

Regardless of the consequences, he lost no time in scooping up his Lover and hauling them out of the way. One arm wrapped tightly around them and bringing them in to his chest, he levelled his staff defensively at the statue as he began to back up.

The statue that was beginning to look less and less like a statue by the moment. Its smooth, white exterior had begun to flake and twist, whilst the various plants growing around it were beginning to slide right off it, as if their roots had been pushed cleanly out of it. Sheets of marble flaked off of the figure’s ribcage, as its chest began to rise and fall. 

More of the material began to fall off the thing's face, revealing gently closed eyelids and flaring nostrils. Then, the marble around the blown out portion of its head began to grow and round out into the shape of a skull, before it cracked like an egg and hair flopped out. Familiar, deep brown locks.

With a gasp, and a jolt, Jayce came back to life.

His eyelids flew open, and his mouth unhinged in a gasping breath. The runes etched into his forehead solidified and sunk down under his skin in the mockery of a crown, as his hands flew to his throat, and then his bearded cheeks. Curious fingers patted along his nose, up his cheeks, checked to ensure he still had ears. And then he was bending forwards, to glance down at his body, clad in the very same outfit he had worn on the day Viktor absorbed him into the hivemind.

"I'm… I’m alive?" He said breathlessly. And there was bewilderment in his voice. And relief. So much relief. His voice was rough and tired. Weak and barely there. But it was Jayce. And it sounded like home. And by the Gods did it make Viktor want to weep with want and relief. 

Viktor kept his arms loosely wrapped around his human lover as the pair watched Jayce come to himself, and begin to take in his surroundings.

"I told you." Y/n whispered triumphantly, pulling Viktor’s attention down to them. They were practically vibrating in place, one tiny hand wrapped around the back of his hand. Then their face split into a grin, and they tilted their head up and back to catch his gaze. "I TOLD YOU!" They exclaimed in a victorious yell, blessing him with the widest, most excited smile he had  ever seen them muster.

A few short steps away, Jayce had struggled to his feet. He scrambled to get his weakened legs under him, his hands sinking into the soft soil as his knees shook with the effort. He seemed to have not noticed his company yet, as he turned his back to them, to stare out over the destruction of the world sprawled far below. His shoulders heaved with his fast paced breaths as he no doubt took in the dilapidated buildings, the empty river with the corpses of ships resting on their massive sides. The broken and collapsing spires of the bridge, covered in thorny spikes of arcane corruption.

Against it all, Jayce’s Piltovern white jacket was a stark contrast. A nugget of the past, preserved and allowed breath once more. 

With a start, Viktor realised what form he was currently residing in, and the visceral reaction Jayce would no doubt have upon turning and seeing him. Of having his world destroyed, only to turn and find the creature that had done it standing a couple steps behind his turned back. 

The Mage pulled his human disguise on like a cloak, feeling himself shrink down to a variation of his old height. It was the disguise he had been using for every Jayce that had stumbled into this world, allowing his age to show in the lines of this new mask, and the blanket of starlight caught in the fabric to conceal the parts of his old self he could not fully recall. 

Now on more even footing with him, his Lover turned back to him in his loose hold, a tight smile on their face. “You forgot the mole again.” They told him simply, reached up to rub their thumb over a spot just below his eye. Viktor smiled back, pulling the mark into existence beneath this touch, and watching with a lick of satisfaction as the tightness around their eyes loosened ever so slightly when they noticed its presence. 

The urge to close the distance and offer them a kiss in thanks was almost too powerful to ignore. In this form, he certainly had the lips to do so, but he could still feel the tension lingering between them. Although slack with Jayce’s revival, it still remained beneath the surface. Fragile and in desperate need of strengthening. So that kind of affection could wait. Viktor was a patient man after all.

A soft gasp from Jayce had the two of them pulling apart, although Viktor noted with a bittersweet tug that Y/n did not yet withdraw nor they loosen their hold on his arm. As if using Viktor as an anchor.

Jayce was glancing back and forth between the Mage and human with a slack jaw. The weariness in his face was coated in a generous dose of curiosity, which was so obviously a Jayce quality that it made Viktor ache. He wanted to see the weariness slip away entirely though, so he slowly reached up to pull back his hood, allowing Jayce to fully come to terms with who he was in the presence of. 

“Viktor.” He breathed, with such an open expression of grief and relief that Viktor could not tell where one began and the other ended. Then Jayce was scrambling forward, his leg brace creaking ominously from so long without use. 

It was Y/n, who had the foresight to lunge forward to stabilise him before he went down. The absence of their warmth left Viktor suddenly cold, as they darted forward to wrap their hands around Jayce’s forearms. 

Jayce finally tore his eyes off of Viktor’s face, expression falling slack as he stared into a new, achingly familiar face. He whispered their name, like a prayer, and practically tripped over himself, again, to bring a hand up to their cheek. Viktor chuckled softly at the way they blatantly melted under the touch and kind eyes, as Jayce’s gaze flickered up to the runes glowing across their forehead. The wonder that flickered across his eyes was in no way forced, as his thumb lightly traced their cheek. There was not an ounce of fear polluting the air as he looked upon them. 

“You made it.” He whispered simply, all before hauling them close, and forcing them to stumble back a step in order to keep their balance. Faster than expected, the human stilled their flailing hands to tightly curl their arms around Jayce’s broad back. Immediately, shaking fingers clenched tightly into the dirty material of his jacket, holding tight. The pair moulded together perfectly, as they always had. 

And the sight made Viktor's heart ache. He lowered his staff, and took a hesitant step forward, a private, relieved smile tugging at his own lips.

All too soon, Jayce pulled back. Arms still wrapped tightly around the human, he ducked down to press a firm kiss to the skin between their brows, just beneath the lowest rune.

“Careful.” Y/n warned wetly, words waterlogged with emotion.

To which Jayce just kissed them again, more desperately. Almost playful in his relief. “Beautiful.” He complemented, although Viktor was not certain if it was to the runes or simply for them.

And then he turned to Viktor, who felt himself stiffen under the weight of those eyes. Of the sheer relief and love reflecting back at him. They were shocking emotions to find on Jayce’s face. He had expected fear or resentment, or at least caution, but no, Jayce exceeded his expectations once more.

Unwinding one of his arms, he grabbed the Mage by the sleeve and yanked him closer with more strength than Viktor recalled him having. Viktor was so stunned by the sudden motion, that he could not predict Jayce’s intention until he’d already been folded into the hug. 

“It- it is good to see you.” Viktor said hesitantly, patting Jayce’s back as the man squeezed him tightly into his side.

This form fit perfectly under Jayce’s arm, slight and small as it was. It was a far cry from the big, lethal form Viktor had come to favour in this ruined world. But somehow, he knew that Jayce would not take kindly to that face after having just woken up from being sealed away by it in the name of ‘perfection’.

And that was fine. It was enough that Jayce did not look upon him with open horror or suspicion. It was enough that he would instinctively reach a hand out to Viktor, even now, when he least deserved it. Even if he may not truly want Viktor’s touch after everything he had done.

“Jayce,” and oh, it has felt like an eternity since he has been able to say that name so fondly, “you need not-”

Jayce simply turned his head and pressed a tender kiss to the knot between Viktor’s eyebrows. Just as he had kissed Y/n. Light and adoring. And by the Gods, had Vitkor yearned for the warm touch of this man. So much so that he could not help but lean into the second kiss, his eyes slipping closed as his staff fell to the ground with a clatter and he finally returned the hug with both hands.

There was still so much left unsaid between them. Apologies that needed to be offered, and mistakes that needed to be talked out. But for now, this was a start. A very hopeful, good start.

Jayce ran straight from the Commune. Going as fast as his heavy hammer and ruined leg would allow him.

His heart was in his throat as he crossed the bridge. His breaths were sharp and shallow as he ran up the steps to the academy, dodging past bewildered looking students and ignoring the concerned calls of colleagues. 

His mind kept leaping back to the image of the thing shaped like Viktor collapsed on the floor of its home, dead and lifeless. He watched the unnatural glow of magic behind its eyes flicker and die. He could hear the metallic sound of the cog it had been holding rolling across the sand before running out of momentum and collapsing onto its side.

He had done it. He had completed his mission. And yet, it had not felt like a victory.

Viktor had made no sound when the hammer’s beam had ripped through him. Had offered no dying words as he looked at Jayce with what he could only describe as detached acceptance before his eyes had gone blank.

The thud of Jayce’s shoulder colliding hard with the laboratory doors slammed him back into the present. The door banged hard against the wall from how fast he had shouldered his way inside, having expected a barricade or at least a locked door. But there was nothing. He skidded to a halt in the middle of the room, panting hard as he wildly snapped his eyes around the room.

It looked like it had in the other Y/n’s memories. Viktor chrysalis still stood in the centre of the room before the window. The desk beneath said window was strewn with notebooks depicting rune translations. There was an uncapped marker pen on the floor, and a shattered, hand held mirror beside it. 

But there was no Lab Illustrator. No Y/n. Jayce felt his heart rate begin to kick up again. Even once touched by Viktor’s magic, the dolls still had physical forms. Once they had deactivated, they had screamed and gone limp, but they had still been there. If luck hadn’t been on their side in this universe, there should at least be a body to bury. Unless of course, Viktor had taken them back to the commune with him. Unless they had laid dying amongst the rest of his cult followers, and Jayce had simply run past them. 

His boots were filled with lead as he dragged his hammer deeper into the laboratory. 

Of all his luck, he seethed that this was the one element that had been entirely out of his control. He hated that he hadn’t been here to give them the right combination. Wasn’t here in time to get them out of the lab before Viktor found them.

He let out a furious yell, and with his emotions fueling his strength, he was hauling his hammer up off of the ground. Muscles charged by fury and grief, he brought the corrupted weapon down on the desk, to which the wood split with a satisfying crack. All of those useless notebooks clattering to the floor as Jayce watched. He was half tempted to burn them for all the good they had been. All those countless, irreplaceable hours of research, only for it all to mean nothing when it had truly mattered-

Behind him, in the depths of the gloomy lab, Jayce heard something shift.

“You should not be here.” A voice growled. Which was all the warning Jayce got before he heard the hiss of clothing. The shuffle of a shoe readjusting against tiles.

His hammer was back in his hand, fingers wrapping around the handle that would open the four points and expose the charging core. He spun on his good leg, widening his stance.

Across the room, he saw a silhouette. His breath stuttered and his eyes widening at the ominous glow of seven points on a humanoid head. 

Then the glow of his weapon illuminated the shine of something metallic soaring for his head. With a yelp, Jayce ducked. The wrench hit the wall behind his head with a heavy thump, before it fell to the floor with an unnerving clatter.

Eyes wide, Jayce glanced from it, back to the figure, his hammer lowered unconsciously. He barely dodged the screwdriver that had been sailing for his eye next. 

“OUT!” Came the roaring command from the shadowy figure. 

Jayce let out a choked shout, dropping his hammer in favour of using his hands to scramble away as they darted forward to snatch up a new projectile. 

“Wait!” He tried to reason, hands flying up. The little hammer was thrown at him regardless. Spinning head over handle straight for his face. He ducked that one too. “It’s me!” He bellowed, arms braced on either side of his head, as he ducked and threw himself out of the way of hammers, and screws, and seemingly every tool in the lab that those frantic hands could wrap their fingers around. 

“It’s Jayce!” He yelled, “it’s me! It’s me!”

He rounded the desk and watched as the light from the window slid over him, hopefully strong enough for some part of him to be recognisable despite the destroyed clothes, long unbrushed hair and the horrible beard. 

The figure stilled with a second hammer already drawn back over their shoulder.

“Jayce?” Came the whispered question, as if speaking too loud would cause him to disappear. For a brief moment, Jayce was back in the darkness of the ravine, staring at a shadow with seven glowing eyes. Only this time, he felt no fear. Just all consuming relief. “Yeah.” He croaked, “it’s me.”

The shadow fell quiet and shuffled closer. Clumsy and uncoordinated. Clearly watching Jayce rather than checking where its feet were being placed. Closer and closer those iridescent runes came, until their ominous glow became legible symbols, and Y/n’s pupils retracted as they stepped into the sunlight with him.

There was blood on their face. Curling down their temple, and dried over the curve of their cheeks. The fresh runes glowing against normal skin. Angry and raw as if someone had used a pocket knife to create them instead of a pen and a magical hand. The flesh had split deeply, the iridescent ink having sunk down to replace the blood that would have otherwise welled there. A sharp difference to the neatly, healed over symbols on the other Y/n.

“Oh… Gods-” They murmured, a hand rising up to cover their mouth as they looked at him. Taking in the cuts, and deep exhaustion lines. The unkempt, greasy hair and tangled beard. Jayce tried to smile, but he knew it fell short. “What happened to you?”

There was pen ink on their fingertips, Jayce noticed. Dry now. But there nonetheless. Further evidence of the scene that had occurred here. Of what had led to them hiding alone in a dark laboratory of all places.

“Too much to tell you here.” He replied, “besides, it looks like I should be asking you the same question.”

The hammer slipped from between their slack fingers, and then they threw themselves at him. Arms snapping round his neck to drag him closer with a desperation that Jayce couldn’t help but mirror. The familiar weight of them in his arms finally eased the unsettled fluttering in his chest, as he ducked his head and pressed a grateful kiss to their temple, the fresh runes buzzing pleasantly against his fingertips. 

His companion gave no indication that the action hurt, nor whether they could even feel it. Not that it mattered just yet whether or not the area was numb. 

They were alive. He was alive. And that in itself was a miracle.

Masterlist

Thank you so much for reading :)))

[seruliean]

world's angriest oil slick for ur troubles

(i drew this before act 3 and i'm choosing to ignore it's existence)

[delightedchips]

[medjaiwarrior]

On a completely unrelated note...just realised that the necklace is Ekko and Powder's faces.

And Vander has VI tattooed on his wrist in memory of Violet.

[agreentealeaf]

no thoughts, just this scene

[mimir-anoshe]

I love that ARCANE is using the MAJOR ARCANA for symbolism.

Chefs kiss.

These are Sevika's tarot cards from season 1.

The Magician (upright) overlapping Death (upright).

Foreshadowing? Oh hell yeah. But its only now after S2 Episode 6 do I understand what they might actually be foreshadowing. People may have talked about this before, so I apologise if this is similar to anyone else's meta. These are all my own thoughts, I usually just watch arcane and don't dabble into the meta but this season has me feral and I just rewatched season 1.

SPOILERS for Arcane S1/S2 below.

I just want to prologue this post with a note about how I've noticed even from season 1 there are thematic parallels and linear symbolism being afforded between Jinx and Viktor. Others in the community have too I'm sure. Its strange. I thought it was interesting in S1 but didn't deep dive into it, but S2 has driven headfirst into it and its making me go "oh... oh ok." Even Viktor in S1 noted Jinx's genius, and in another timeline perhaps Powder would've been a student of Viktors had fate not set them on parallel paths. Two children of Zaun, both mechanical/scientific geniuses. One physically disabled whilst the other mentally disabled. One who "escaped" and was given a chance, rising to the top only to create something that would be used for harm. Fighting that fate at every step. Whilst the other trapped at the bottom of the barrel, forced to use her gifts to become a weapon herself. Such GOOD story writing.

So now let's think about the art of the cards, because in tarot, even the symbolism of the specific art is important. Its why an artists interpretation of a major/minor can be so crucial to a reading.

Here's a figure map I made earlier.

Lets begin with Death.

Thirteenth of the Major Arcana, a "significant transformation and the end of a phase in life." There is death and rebirth symbolism all over arcane, but let's take a closer look at the symbolism mirroring the art.

Figure 7&8 - The one who has "died" a skeleton/skull laid down and being "imbued" with something as something else is taken away.

See that the imbuing focuses on the "chest" area.

It's quick, but it flashes briefly when Viktor is being imbued with the Hexcore. He canonically dies "the skull" and is reborn with the Hexcore on an "altar"/table.

Same with Jinx. Canonically "dies" and is reborn laying on an "altar"/table using shimmer. Purple being used as the visual thread between shimmer and the arcane of the hex; a colour imagery representation of "magical" alchemical/arcane power turning them into something beyond human.

Singed and Jayce. Two hands of death, giving and taking life as if they were a God. One using shimmer, the other Hextech thats imbued with shimmer. Messing with the balance of life and death.

With Viktor, the energy is transferred straight into his chest, just like on the card.

So now we've established the parallels to the death tarot, lets look at The Magician.

The First of the Major Arcana, "the connection between the physical and spiritual worlds, and the ability to manifest one's desires."

Viktor is the Magician. No doubt. He connects the physical and spiritual world of the arcane, he brings people back from the brink of death, as he was. He manifests his desires through the use of the hex, the arcane. And the dude just looks like a mecha wizard.

Though if you want it to be even more obvious.

Figure 3 - The Third Arm/Third Hand.

The image below is "The Machine Herald" Hero from League of Legends. This is the hero Viktor is based upon.

He canonically has three arms, same as the Magician in the card. The Magician is Viktor, Viktor is the Magician. The Magician is the Machine Herald.

The Magician overtakes/overlaps death. But Viktor by episode 6 still doesn't quite resemble the machine herald from the games. There's no third arm... Yet. So the Magician in the card isn't Viktor from episodes 1-6, this is the machine herald who comes after the one killed in episode 6. Another Rebirth is set to happen for Viktor.

Figures 1 &2 - White mask. Red/pinkish eyes.

Hmmm... Red/pinkish eyes are associated with shimmer. And a white mask, of the machine herald? The mask of a messiah. That the hextech Viktor will most likely also be imbued with shimmer like Jinx, to become the true "machine herald." Messiahs of the hex, monsters of the shimmer.

Its also worth noting that both Jinx and Viktor are framed as messianic figures of Zaun in this season. One the fighter who will rally together the undercity and free Zaun from its oppression. The other a healer and a saint like figure who will free the Zaunites of their suffering and lead them into a better future.

Jinx wanting peace - represented by Isha - and Viktor's dream of peace and healing for Zaun - represented by a lot of things including healing Vander - are metaphorically and literally killed in episode 6. Funnily enough, one symbol of peace killing the other (Isha and Vander - Child and Father). After all, peace and violence are two sides of the same coin, as are Viktor and Jinx. Or should I say, two sides of the same cog...

Figure 4&6 - The Cog shaped Hole in the Magicians chest/The Cog Coin and Jinx's cog.

"I understand now. The message hidden within the pattern. The reason for our failures in the commune. The doctor was right. Its inescapable. Humanity. Our very essence. Our emotions... Rage. Compassion. Hate. Two sides of the same coin. Inextricably bound."

In episode 6, whilst Viktor is explaining to Vi about what it will take to heal Vander, Jinx is sceptical. She doesn't even believe in herself as a messiah, so this "hero"? This "saviour" coming along to solve their problems? To fix things? When all she can do is break everything around her, jinx her own family, destroy? She's scoffing at Viktor sure, but she's also scoffing at herself. Mirroring. People treat her like they treat him, so to believe in him as a saviour means she would have to look into the water of that well and face her own reflection. And Viktor sees right through it, the pretence, and he sees her potential.

Knowledge is a paradox. Jinx wants to stick with what she knows, to destroy instead of to build, to "Watch it all burn." Or ignore the plight of Zaun, so she can live peacefully with Isha. Jinx - Powder - is choosing to remain ignorant to what's right in front of her. Right up until the moment Isha dies.

In the scene earlier in the episode, Jinx accidently destroys a bit of the well, releasing a cog that falls into water. Cogs have been symbolic of Viktor healing people throughout this season, using cogs to "Build."

Powder was thrown into water just like that cog by Silco, and reborn as Jinx. But its not Silco that picks up this cog. Its Viktor. He holds the potential of his creation in his hand, and in paradox, holds Jinx's destruction. Viktor holds Jinx's potential. He's literally holding the two sides of Jinx/Powder in his hand, her - their - fate. Just like Jinx, Viktor has the equal capacity to destroy, and if he is reborn as a weapon later on, perhaps that cog represents Jinx being reborn too. As a creator. A builder.

He holds onto Jinx's cog all the way through the rest of the episode, balancing that potential, that fate, of creation and destruction in his hand. Right up until the moment he dies, and the coin/the cog falls, sealing their fate. His death causing the deaths of Isha and Vander too.

So we've established that the story is viewing cogs/coins in a similar light. We've also established the show is linking Viktor and Jinx through the symbology of the cog.

This is reiterated in the symbolism surrounding the Tarot cards. Around the cards are coins that take the shape of cogs, the currency of Zaun. Fate - coin flips - and cogs, gods and machines. Deus Ex Machina, that is what Viktor is to become, and Jinx creates destruction using machines. She's an inventor, just like Viktor and Jayce. A creator and a destroyer. A god of the machine.

So how does Figure 6 - the coin cogs - relate to Figure 4? The hole in the Magician's chest.

On the Tarot Card, the Magician has a circle in the middle of his chest. A hole. Just like the hole Jayce puts through Viktors chest at the end of Episode 6. The one that kills him.

But if you look closely at the image above, it might be a stretch, but to me, the striations on the inner ring look very similar to those of a cog. The hole is what kills Viktor. Cogs have been given visual symbolism for healing, and are also associated with Jinx's potential for creation. Its a stretch, but it could potentially be foreshadowing Jinx using her abilities to heal Viktor; to build instead of destroy. We've already seen Jinx do it once with Sevika, by "building" her a new arm.

I also find it interesting that we're shown Jinx using her talents to build someone a new arm, and Viktor - the machine herald - still has yet to acquire his third arm. Perhaps he doesn't make it. Perhaps Jinx does?

Maybe, just maybe, Jinx - Powder - is the one to fix Viktor, and flip the cog of fate once again.

Now in Episode 6 we already get foreshadowing that it'll be singe - not Jinx - who saves Viktor by imbuing him with the ultimate shimmer from Warwick/Vander - stabilising him. He says it in the episode, but Viktor refuses to sacrifice Vander in the name of creating the ultimate weapon of destruction.

"It would destroy him."

Viktor's potential for destruction goes hand in hand with Jinx's.

Its even foreshadowed in both the cards. The red/pink eyes of the machine herald foreshadowing shimmer. And the shadow being imbued into the chest of the dead skeleton (Viktor) looks an awful lot like Warwick; the beast that traps Vander.

So why am I talking about Jinx saving Viktor if I'm so certain its Singe? Well I'm certain Singe will bring Viktor back to life, to be used as a weapon. That seems like the most likely outcome.

But like Viktor was saying about Vander "He's not a specimen, he's a man." Viktor was doing everything in his power to save Vander's humanity. So yes Singe will bring the machine herald back most likely - even if I think it'd be thematically cool for it to be Jinx - but I think Jinx will save Viktor. Save the man, the humanity. Be the big fat hero.

Jinx was a girl imbued with Shimmer, and despite having monstrous abilities and doing monstrous things, her humanity has still survived.

I could be wrong, I most likely am, but the the thing that's getting to me is this...

Figure 5 - The Broken Infinity.

At the centre of Viktor's chest, in the middle of Jayce's death blow and Jinx's cog of creation & destruction, is a symbol.

Now a diagonal infinity symbol is associated with the Firelights. Ekko. The boy who shattered time.

Broken Infinity? Shattered time? Seems to go hand in hand.

Though Ekko's symbol is a whole infinity, more akin to a Z than an ongoing X.

There are plenty of theories Ekko will play a role in Viktor's fate and the fate of everyone by rewinding time somehow. And the multiple shots of the coin rolling support that to an extend. Rewind time, change fate, change the flip of the cog. And I agree, I think Ekko is going to have a role to play. But there's also another character who fits with this symbol, who uses shimmer to move faster than humanly possible and defy fate time and time again. Who is the fulcrum of fate in the eyes of the story, the catalyst of everything. And only one character who has solely been associated with a broken infinity symbol before.

Jinx. That's Jinx's symbol. Her champion tag.

Jinx's symbol, right at the centre of Viktors chest. And this line to Jinx from Viktor...

"You have much to offer this commune, Powder. Your talents could be used to build instead of destroy."

And the line from Singe, about Viktor's fate being tied to the commune. Viktor IS the commune, he's the centre of it all. The one who can make the dream of Zaun - Vander's dream - a reality. And that line foreshadowed Jinx using her talents to help the commune. To help Viktor.

Hell, she was technically the reason he "died" in the first place. She fired the rocket that nearly killed him. Wouldn't it be poetic story telling if she was the one who saved him in the end?

I can't wait for Saturday.

I believe whatever happens, Viktor and Jinx's fates are inextricably bound.

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

In Every Universe

Well. S2EP7 huh. What a ride. Went back to rewatch parts of it while researching for this fic and man, does it still hit as hard as ever. I suppose the sad Arcane playlist didn't help either.

Right, here it is, the longest piece I've ever written in all my years of fanfiction writing. I'm so glad Arcane existed, for all its flaws I still love the series with my whole heart and especially a certain one-eyed war criminal underground drug lord.

Playlist I listened to while writing this:

Spoilers for Arcane Season 2 Episode 7 ahead

One moment you're face to face with the arcane itself, and the next you're staring at a wooden ceiling that's somehow familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. There's something warm next to you and your confused mind registers the weight of something on your chest.

Your first instinct is to quickly free yourself, to put some distance between you and the possibly harmful object, so you lash out at it, rolling off the bed. A rather familiar sounding yelp of pain comes from your left, but your disoriented mind can't remember why it sounds so familiar.

"Easy there, love," a voice groans. Your breath catches in your throat when the figure the voice belongs to sleepily sits up, rubbing his eye.

Silco?

You shake your head. This can't be, he's dead, you've seen his body, you know for certain he's dead, but then why are you seeing this? An illusion? A trick of the mind? Hallucinations?

Your mind races through the possibilities, each more absurd than the last. 'Silco' slides off the bed, carefully approaching you as he should and you properly take in his appearance. Gone is his orange and black eye, instead white surrounds a pale yellow iris. His features are softer, sea-foam coloured eye filled with a level of concern and worry you've only seen him show before he became The Eye of Zaun.

"Love?" His voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

You narrow your eyes at him, muscles tensing. "If this is an illusion, it's a terrible one considering you can't even replicate Silco properly."

"What are you talking about, love? The last I checked, I wasn't an illusion," 'Silco' tilts his head in confusion and raises his hands in surrender. "I mean you no harm, love."

Your hands clench into fists. His words may not contain any lies you can detect but you know better than to let down your guard in unfamiliar territory. You shift your foot and lunge at him, tackling 'Silco' to the ground with a snarl. His eye widens but just like the Silco you know, he quickly regains his signature calm and throws you off.

"I don't want to hurt you, love, but you're not giving me much of a choice with that attitude of yours." 'Silco' huffs. His palms remain open but you can see his muscles tense slightly. You continue your barrage of attacks, and he counters them all with practiced ease, as though he's seen those moves a thousand times before.

The both of you dance until you gain the upper hand by pulling out a move that catches him off guard and pin him to the ground. Your hand slips to where you know he hides a dagger but your fingers find nothing, to your surprise. Taking advantage of that moment, 'Silco' rolls out from under you, panting.

"Now now, love. I know we're married but still, warn me before you start feeling me up." He flashes you a cheeky grin, something he hasn't done in a long time and leaves you even more confused. Something isn't adding up, he's both the Silco you know and isn't. He knows your fighting moves, knows how to counter them which proves that he is the Silco you know and he smells like the Silco you know — cigar ash and scotch. However his left eye is different and he doesn't carry Vander's dagger on him at all times. Wait did he say the two of you are married?

"Married?" You echo.

"Don't tell me you lost your memory," he frowns. "You're acting weird today, love, what has gotten into you?"

"You're the weird one!" You spit back. There's no sensible explanation for any of this…unless…

"Everything alright in there? I know I told you two to turn things down especially at night, some of us need to sleep." Yet another familiar voice sounds from outside the door.

Vander?

"Everything's fine, and don't worry you'll be getting the sleep you need every night," 'Silco' drawls before turning back to you. You stare wide-eyed at the door, throat tightening as emotions threaten to overwhelm you. Flashes of your past with the two brothers race through your mind, Vander's easy smile and comforting presence, Silco's sharp wit and seeming indifference towards you and Vander, your laughter and love for them both. A tear slides down your cheek and you bolt from the room, racing down the stairs you know so well and out the bar, only to be met with a city you don't recognise.

Zaun is lit up, the sun shining down on both cities as Zaunites and Piltovians alike walk past you, chatting away. The streets bustle as hawkers call out their wares and golden light shines upon the Bridge of Progress which is further littered with shops instead of blockades and enforcers. Everywhere you look, buildings stand tall and proud, colour decorates the dirty grey city you knew and your heart shatters.

This…is this what could have been?

Your vision blurs from the tears pouring down your face as it hits you. This is an alternate reality, there's no other explanation. A reality where Zaun becomes independent, co-existing as equals with Piltover. A reality where Silco and Vander's dream comes true.

You stand in the middle of the street with tear streaks on your cheeks, eyes puffy and feel so lost until someone drapes something over your shoulders. It's warm, whatever it is, and smells nice.

"I'm right here." Arms gently guide you to rest your head on a familiar shoulder. "Take all the time you need."

You're not sure why but that's all it takes for the dam to break and you find yourself sobbing hard into his shoulder. His arms wrap around you, pulling you closer and you feel his lips press against the top of your head. You hug him tightly, mind still screaming that this is all a dream, but if this is really just all a dream, you don't want to wake up.

Once you've calmed down, you lift your head and Silco smiles softly at you. "Shall we go home?"

You hum in agreement, letting him lead you back to The Last Drop. You can feel his hand resting on the small of your back, his shoulder brushing against yours and lean into the touch, grateful for the support. He feels the same as the Silco you know, and if you close your eyes, you're back there again, before the incident at the bridge, before you were forced to choose between Silco and Vander.

When you enter The Last Drop, 'Vander' slides a glass of your favourite drink towards you while 'Silco' takes a seat next to you.

"Nothing for me?" 'Silco' teases. 'Vander' laughs, but slides him a glass of scotch anyways. 'Silco' takes a sip before placing the cup between the two of you, gently resting his hand on your forearm. You cautiously place your own hand on top of his, it fits the same way as your Silco's hand does, but your Silco is dead and this Silco is alive. Then again your Vander is dead and this Vander is alive.

You sniff the drink in front of you, eyeing it warily. 'Silco' snorts, lifting the glass to his lips and takes a mouthful. "See? Not poisoned. What has gotten into you today?"

You frown, tapping your finger on the counter top as you think of a way to broach this topic. How were you going to explain that somehow, you had been transported into your body from an alternate universe? There was also the nagging question of where Ekko, Heimerdinger and Jayce were, if they were even in this universe as well. You heave a sigh, looking into sea foam and grey eyes.

"Just a nightmare." You can't tell them anything, and doubt they'll believe you anyways. 'Silco' narrows his eyes but 'Vander' places a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. 'Silco' scowls but relents and leaves you alone for the rest of the day, which you spend exploring this alternate reality.

Turns out, this is the reality in which Vi died in the explosion. 'Vander' has different tattoos, but he still betrayed 'Silco' and tried to kill him. How the two made up, well for whatever reason the two seemed adamant about keeping it quiet, but it made your heart ache for what could have been back in your universe.

That night, you can't sleep. Your mind is racing, going through everything you've learnt today. In the dark, you can see 'Silco' peacefully slumbering on his right side, an arm draped over your waist. His chest gently rises and falls with each breath he takes, his face buried into your chest. He looks completely different from your Silco when he sleeps, his dark brown hair tousled, facial muscles relaxed and lips curved into what looks like a smile. Your Silco never slept on his right side, always preferring to sleep on his left side with a dagger clutched under the pillow.

'Silco' mumbles something, stirring slightly and you shift, only for him to blindly grasp for your arm so that he can bury himself further into your chest, bringing a small smile to your face. It's been so long since you've shared your bed with another, maybe you can indulge him just this once. It wouldn't hurt…right?

You run your fingers through his hair, remembering the times where you'd comb his hair for him, gently pressing kisses to his scarred cheek until he told you he had a meeting to attend and then you'd kiss him on the lips for good luck before letting him go. 'Silco' purrs softly, nuzzling into you and holds you closer, a free heater on this cool night.

You miss this. You miss hugging your lover like it's your last moment in this world, you miss his touch, his warmth. You miss the way he holds you tightly when he's feeling down, the feeling of his forehead pressing against yours, the electricity that crackles in the air when his fingers linger on your hand longer than it needs to as he passes you his cigar. You miss the way he makes your heart race from all the small smiles he sends your way during a meeting with the chem-barons, the way he makes you stifle a laugh when he rolls his eye at their bickering, but most of all the way he holds your hand. Your palms have always slotted into each other's like puzzle pieces, made perfectly for one another.

This 'Silco' is the same, yet different, and despite all his faults, you've always loved your Silco. It's why you chose to side with him over Vander, why you walked down the path towards hell with him despite knowing where it led. You knew that given the choice again, you would always choose him over everything else, and if that made you loyal to him to a fault, so be it.

Still, you wonder if you could've steered him towards the path this 'Silco' took. Would you have been able to nudge him towards forgiveness, leaving his hatred and vengeance behind for the shared dream of Zaun? You shake your head, what's past is past, there's no changing it. The only thing you can do now it look forward, and push on ahead, as you know your Silco would want you to, but doing so is so much harder than knowing it.

I love you, the words you were never able to say to him. The both of you always knew how the other felt, but neither of you ever verbalised it. You trace 'Silco's' scars, wondering if this version of you ever uttered those words to him.

"Can't sleep, love?" He mumbles, rolling over so that he can see you.

"It's just…been a long day."

He hums, and then pulls you into a hug, resting his chin on the top of your head. Rubbing gentle circles on your back, he nuzzles your hair. "Then you better get as much rest as you can. I'll be here when you wake up."

Tears begin to fill your eyes again but you squeeze them shut, willing the grief away. If this is a dream, you want it to continue on forever. You don't want to wake up, you don't want to lose Silco and Vander again.

But you still wake up.

Because you have to.

On your second day, you learn that Ekko and Powder are preparing for a competition.

"Ekko?"

"Y/N?"

"Are you —"

"Do you know where we can talk in private?"

You've never been so relieved to hear that.

You learn that Ekko and Heimerdinger have met up, and that Jayce is nowhere to be found. Ekko has a theory that recreating what brought all three of you to this universe in the first place might be able to send you all back home, and he's been trying to do just that the past few days.

"Home," you echo, staring at the bustling city below.

"You…don't want to go back?"

"Do you?" Your question catches him off guard and he pauses, looking at the ground.

"I…I don't know."

"You and Powder, right?" You give him a knowing look and he looks away, embarrassed. "I know the feeling."

He raises an eyebrow but you press on, ignoring the inquisitive look he sends your way. "This world…this universe, it's everything we've wanted. Well, almost everything. Looking at all this, I don't know if I want to go back. Do I want to throw it all away just to go back to bloodshed, chaos and war?"

"We have people back home who need us."

Sevika.

Jinx.

Their faces flash in your mind and your throat constricts.

"We can't just abandon them, as much as we prefer this world." Ekko's eyes are hard. "We have to go back."

It's hurting him to say this, but he's saying it anyways because he knows it's right. You look back at the bright city of Zaun and sigh. Ekko speaks the cold hard truth, but you're torn. Going back means confronting the reality that Vander, and more importantly Silco, are forever lost to you, that Zaun is still struggling in the fight against Piltover, that you have to fight every day to survive, but going back also means reuniting with your closest friend Sevika, your adopted daughter Jinx, and you know they need you as much as you need them.

"I've made my mind up," Ekko turns to leave. "Let me know when you've made yours up. In the meantime, I'll be working on my theory with Heimerdinger."

"…thanks."

"Never thought I'd hear you thank me."

"Well, I never thought I'd end up in an alternate universe, so there."

Ekko snorts and leaves you alone with your thoughts. He's right, it seems this alternate universe is starting to influence you, in a good way from the looks of it. You huff in amusement, letting yourself smile and look out at the silhouette of Piltover in the distance. You owed it to your Silco to see his dream of an equal Zaun and Piltover, and the only way to do that was to go home.

"You doing alright?" You turn to see 'Vander' standing behind you.

"Well, that depends really. Are you talking physically, emotionally or mentally?"

"Even if he doesn't act like it, Silco's worried about you. He's been asking me to talk to you since you won't tell him what's going on."

"Aren't you supposed to keep that last part a secret?" You chuckle. He shrugs, moving over to stand next to you.

"Well, it's out of the bag now, he can't do anything about that. So, are you going to tell me if everything's alright or am I going to have to pry it out of you with alcohol?"

"Hmph." You take a seat and he follows, carefully watching your every move. "If you had to choose between being with the one you love and saving Zaun, which would you pick?"

"I would save Zaun." You blink at him, surprised at the lack of hesitation in his answer. You knew which option he would choose, but the speed at which he gave his answer was unexpected.

"If there's anything I've learnt from all these years, it's that the ones we love are never truly gone. They are right here." He places a hand over his heart. "Felicia, Vi, everyone we've lost, they're kept alive by our memories, our feelings, our thoughts, and are always with us."

"You always know what to say," you huff, choking back the tears. "Never missed a beat, not even once."

"You can always talk to us, little dove. We're always here for you, Silco and I." You throw yourself into Vander's arms, hugging him tightly. He wraps his arms around you in turn, holding you securely in his warm embrace.

Little dove. You never thought you'd hear that nickname again. The dove had died the day you chose to follow Silco down the path towards hell, you still remember the looks of sorrow Vander had given you as you turned your back on him, hate filling your eyes. You'd been angry at him for what he did to Silco, hurled words you wish you could take back, screamed then cried, wrapped in Silco's cold embrace as he whispered of the revenge the both of you would take on Vander.

And you never got the chance to apologise.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," you wail, clutching at his sleeves. "I should never have said any of that, I shouldn't have cursed you, I take it all back, I take it all back."

"I've already long forgiven you." His words are enough to make you break, screaming out your grief over what you've lost forever. You cry and cry, letting out all your regret, the bottled up emotions finally spilling out after years of containing them for the sake of staying strong. Your nails dig into his arms, gripping onto him for support as your body wracks with every cry. The world around you blurs from the tears and you feel your knees buckle but a pair of strong arms catch you.

"I've got you."

Your body squeezes out one last sob before it collapses, unable to bear the weight of it all anymore.

If only I had your back the same way you always had mine.

When you next open your eyes, you're back on your shared bed with 'Silco', with a singular sea foam coloured eye watching you. He shifts, moving closer to you and gently cups your cheek, thumb gliding over your skin.

"I'm sorry," you whisper. "I thought following you into hell was the best thing I could do for you, but it wasn't. I should have said something, done something to stop you from destroying yourself, cleared your vision when it became clouded, but I was too weak to. I didn't want to lose you, not after losing everything else."

He presses a kiss to your forehead. "I'm right here, just as I promised."

That's right, how could you have forgotten? Promises whispered in the dead of night, huddled on the rooftop under a single coat, lips locking as fingers intertwined, foreheads pressed against each other, time freezing in that moment, the world condensed to just the both of you.

Stay by my side, always?

Always.

Moments clouded by the haze of anger, vengeance and hatred slowly begin to reveal themselves, memories buried the day you turned your back on Vander flooding back into your head. A warm hug, a hand ruffling your hair, deep laughter, the clink of glasses raised in toast to a new future, music playing in the background, a pen nib scratching on paper, hands brushing against one another sending tingles up your spine, a shy smile, lying on the rooftop looking up at nothing, dreaming of a better future.

"Stay, please."

"I'm not going anywhere, love. You're stuck with me forever."

You feel the bed dip as he moves to lie down next to you, slipping his hand into yours. Looking into his eye, you see a glimmer that your Silco lost along with his left eye, a quiet look of adoration, of endless love and you lean in, feeling his soft lips, tasting the scotch he loves to drink.

It feels wrong, this is not your Silco, but just for the moment you let yourself drift away, kissing him deeper, pouring all your love and regret into the act. He kisses back fervently, hungrily devouring you, eye closed as time comes to a stop around the both of you.

"I miss you," you breathe, lips parting. "I miss you so much."

"It's only been half a day."

"Shut up."

"Make me." You slam your lips against his once more, savouring the taste of him, fingers tangled in his hair. He pulls you closer, greedily devouring you. One hand rests on the back of your neck while the other rests on your back as he kisses you like there's no tomorrow. Maybe there is no tomorrow, maybe you have to go back to your universe tonight but right now, all you can think about is how much you've missed this.

Your lips finally part as you gasp for air, lost in the bliss of the moment. You feel his hands cup your cheeks, his forehead pressing against yours as you both bask in each other's presence. He's so warm, nothing like the body you cradled months ago as your world shattered, wails ripped from your throat. His touch is gentle, calloused fingers ghosting over your skin as he holds you like you're the most precious thing in the world.

It's nice, living in this universe where everyone you love is alive and well, where you're happily married to the man you've devoted your life to, but you know you don't belong. Your hands are stained with blood that you can never wash off, Shimmer taints the blood in your veins and your heart is broken beyond repair. In this world of peace, of wholeness, you will never find a place. It's made for the you of this universe, the you who still remembers how to live in a time of peace, who doesn't jump at every shadow believing it to be a threat.

You breathe in deeply, basking in his comforting presence. He still smells of cigar ash and scotch, but it's less sharp. You reach up, placing your hands on top of his and close your eyes. Like this, it's almost as if your Silco is the one cradling your face and you feel a silent tear slide down your cheek.

Damn, you've been crying a lot since you arrived in this universe.

He moves a hand to wipe the tear away, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. As he pulls back, his lips curve into a smile and you mentally save the image. You never imagined he could be capable of such levels of love after Vander's betrayal but here he was, having forgiven Vander, having the courage to marry you openly, having the courage to wear his wedding ring on his finger. He was so much stronger than you thought, and you feel bad for doubting him.

I never thought I'd see you smile like that again, even if it's you in another universe. The thought rings in your head and you can't help but let a chuckle slip. The first genuine laugh you've made since arriving in this universe.

"And what's suddenly so funny?" He does his signature head tilt, mockingly glaring at you. It seems some habits remain the same in every universe.

"Nothing," you hum, heart feeling lighter. It's like a weight has been lifted from your chest, and you feel free. You take in his features, remembering every line on your Silco's face, remembering the shape of his scar, remembering his touch, remembering the way he would kiss you, but these memories no longer choke you, no longer crush you under their weight. Instead, they're cast in a radiant glow, preserved in your heart.

He snorts in disbelief but doesn't press it further, choosing to cuddle under the blanket with you. Your fingers thread through his hair, the rhythm slowly lulling him to sleep and soon he's drifted off, allowing you to untangle yourself from him and slip out.

You head to the rooftop, breathing in the cool night air and watch the lights of the city below twinkle. Gone are the bright and aggressive neon lights of the Zaun you're familiar with, replaced with the soft glow of white lights.

It's beautiful. A different kind of beauty, but still as beautiful as the Zaun you know and love. The night breeze whispers in your ear, carrying the hums of the city's nightlife. You lie down on the cold hard floor, reaching up at the sky with one hand and wonder if you will ever be able to grasp the dream of an independent Zaun for your universe.

"Is the bed not comfortable enough for you?" 'Silco' sits down next to your head, leaning back on his palms.

"Nice to see you too." You've never really registered the fact that he doesn't hide his scars in this universe, but under the night lights, the ridges of his scar stand out, drawing your attention to them. He hums, looking out at the sprawling city.

"Do you think we fall in love in every universe?" You blurt out.

He looks over at you, raising an eyebrow. "Feeling sentimental all of a sudden?"

"Just thinking about it."

He hums, deep in thought. "I would like to believe so."

You smile. "Yeah, me too."

As the night goes by, you feel your eyes start to close. It's so tiring, sorting through your bottled up emotions, but as you look up to see 'Silco' smiling, you decide that maybe it's not so bad if it means you get to see him at peace.

The next few days pass by in a blur. You help 'Vander' prepare The Last Drop for the upcoming Innovator's Competition celebration, hanging up the decorations and drop by Ekko's place for updates on the machine. You do what you can to help Ekko, Powder and Heimerdinger out but amidst geniuses, you can only do so much. Still, as the machine comes closer and closer to completion, trepidation creeps in.

Are you really going to throw it all away just to go home?

On the day of the celebration, you take the chance to explore the city a little more, wanting to take in more of the sights before you return to your universe. 'Silco' offers to accompany you but you turn him down, telling him that it would just be a quick in and out. You see his expression falter for just a split second but he lets you go. You thank him, pressing a quick peck on his scarred cheek before slipping out the door, into the familiar yet unfamiliar streets of Zaun.

You wander around aimlessly, wondering if your Zaun will ever reach the same level of prosperity and peace. Children play in the water fountain, laughing as they splash about without a care in the world. Friends stand around, chatting away as if they have all the time in the world. You feel like a stranger here, used to the dark grey and the shadows that make up your Zaun.

Walking past a bakery, the smell of freshly baked bread fills your nose, bringing you back to the time when you had jumped into Silco's arms, laughing as you clutched a bag of fresh bread stolen from a Piltovian bakery, yelling at him to run before the enforcers could catch up. He had stood there for a moment, cheeks flushed before realising what you just said and took off running, gripping tightly onto your arm. You remember the adrenaline that had coursed through your veins, the loud and freeing laughter that rang through the air, the way you had breathlessly pinned him against the wall, kissing him for the first time as enforcers walked past the both of you, the bag of bread pressed between your bodies. You remember his flustered expression as you broke the kiss, adrenaline fading, his conflicted look before he pulled you in for another kiss, this time deeper.

You buy a bun just for old times' sake, tearing off a chunk. It's pretty good, although not as good as the one you stole. You had shared the stolen bread with Silco, cheekily taking a bite from his loaf and scarpering off before he could do the same to yours, his footsteps and shouts getting louder as he gained on you. He had taken his revenge that day, taking a bite from your loaf before flicking you on the forehead, grumbling about how you made him run so much.

You'd only laughed, ribbing him with your elbow before plopping onto your usual bar stool, eyes shining while he took out his notebook with a sigh, still nibbling on his bread and continued calculating The Last Drop's finances. Vander had shook his head in amusement once he found out what was going on, teasing Silco about getting married to you which caused Silco to bury himself further into his notebook, but neither you nor Vander missed the way the tips of his ears turned red.

The bread that day had tasted sweeter than usual, and back then you had chalked it up to a difference in baking but now that you think about it, it was probably because you were sharing it with Silco. You smile, taking another bite of your bread and continue your aimless journey, watching as the city moves all around you, going about their day.

A particular store catches your attention, the jewellery on display glinting in the light and you make your way over, still munching on your bread. Rings, bracelets, piercings and necklaces fill the counter, but a ring in particular catches your attention. It's a simple silver band on the surface, but you recognise the markings carved into it.

"You've got good taste. That ring's special, carved with archaic runes that are said to preserve the feelings of the gifter." The shopkeeper pushes the box in which the ring sits closer to you.

"So I've heard." You trace the runes, remembering the first time you laid eyes on this ring.

It had been during one of your little adventures into Piltover and a particularly fancy box had caught your eye. Making sure no one was looking, your nimble fingers had swiped the box and you disappeared into the shadows, curious about what lay within. Upon opening the box, you were disappointed by the sight that greeted you. It was a simple silver ring, with nothing of note until you looked closer. Something was carved into the metal, patterns that looked like runes. Now that was a ring worth selling. You had pocketed it, wondering how high you could sell it for until you overheard someone talking about proposing to their girlfriend with a ring amidst a flower field.

A romantic gesture huh. You had slipped the ring out again, looking it over. Would Silco appreciate such a gesture? Marriages were few and far between in Zaun, it was something few could even think about, and fewer chose to go with it. You didn't need marriage to know how Silco felt about you, it was as clear as day to those whom you wanted to know about it and that was more than enough for the both of you. Still, it would make a nice gift, so you had pocketed the ring and headed towards The Last Drop where your proposal had gone terribly unromantic.

You let slip a quiet chuckle as you recall that night, hand reaching for the ring hanging around the chain on your neck and tucked underneath your shirt only to grasp at nothing. Oh…right…this version of you never proposed to Silco via that ring so instead he had proposed to you with a different ring that this version of you wore on your ring finger. You fiddle with the ring on your finger, thanking the shopkeeper for her time before heading back to The Last Drop. It is almost time for the celebration, and you want dibs on the first bottle of alcohol opened.

The walk back feels strangely melancholic, maybe it's the colour the setting sun bathes the city in, maybe it's the thought of needing to leave this city behind when you go back to your universe since the machine is so close to completion, but you purposely walk slower than normal. Your fingers brush along the walls of buildings, run over the stone the water fountains are made from, and gently rest on the cooling metal of the benches.

How will you bid farewell to this universe's Silco? You sit on one of the benches, looking up at the sky, lost in thought. Your heart still yearns for Silco, but you also know that you have a responsibility to Jinx and Sevika, both of whom are in your home universe.

"Penny for your thoughts?" You look to your left as Heimerdinger climbs onto the bench, taking a seat next to you.

"No thanks." You turn your gaze back to the sky, arms draped over the bench's backrest.

"I must admit, I don't know what's troubling you, but I do know when someone's carrying a heavy burden." He follows your gaze, looking up at the sky. "And the burden you bear is a terribly heavy one."

"What do you know of carrying heavy burdens?"

"I know that it's heavier when carried alone, and that the bearer tends to think they're alone when in reality they aren't."

You laugh, "your kind live long lives, don't they?"

"Indeed we do."

"Do you have any regrets then?"

"Oh, plenty, but I've learnt to move on from them. No one doesn't have regrets, what defines us is how we deal with them. Some let their regrets consume them and wallow in self-pity, others rise above their regrets and learn from them. The question is how will you deal with yours?" Heimerdinger looks at you.

"I've been ignoring mine, pretending that they don't exist, but I've been forced to confront them here. I know I can't turn back time to fix my mistakes, I know they can never be fixed, but this — this universe, in this universe my regrets don't exist. I can be free of my regrets here, and yet, I have a duty to those from our universe. I have friends, other family, people to lead. I can't just abandon them, but I don't want to lose this paradise either." You heave a deep sigh, closing your eyes. "I don't know if I can lose the one I love for the second time."

"I admire your strength, it's a kind few possess. To still consider duty when it means losing someone you love again, it's a testament to who you are. I cannot claim to understand how you feel, but I have heard that we only ever truly lose someone when we forget them."

"Hmph. Vander." You snort. "Everywhere I go, he still influences the people around him."

"He must be quite the fellow."

"He is. The Hound of Zaun, people called him. Yet he's the gentlest and kindest person I know. And I let him die." Your words fade into a whisper. "All because I wasn't strong enough to steer the one I loved away from the path of destruction."

"You aren't the only one who has stood by and watched as someone they cared about destroyed themself." Heimerdinger bows his head. "I failed my pupil, and not a day goes by where I wonder if I should have done more back then, but I believe I did what I could. With hindsight as my teacher, I learn not to repeat that mistake so that I won't regret it again. I know you have the strength to do the same."

"Such optimism."

"I only speak the truth. Now then, I must go back to the lab and continue working on our way home. Enjoy yourself at the party, time is precious especially when we only have so much of it left."

"Enjoy myself huh. I suppose I can try." You stand up, stretching your limbs. "I doubt there'll be another party any time soon."

The party that takes place that night is nothing like you've ever experienced before. The floor is abuzz with excited young inventors showing off their latest fancy gadgets, alcohol exchanging hands as friends and lovers alike chat the night away, all the while you hang behind the counter, watching the scene unfold.

"Finally acting your age?" 'Benzo' laughs boisterously, slapping you on the back.

"Could say the same about you," you retort, taking a sip from your glass. 'Silco' had left earlier to mingle with other people, but you weren't exactly in the mood to form more relationships you knew were going to end soon. 'Vander' remained behind the bar counter to serve drinks and in the beginning you tried to help him, but you soon began trying each drink that was opened, much to his amusement and he 'fired' you from your job.

"Go out there and have fun, I've got it covered here." He had shooed you away but all you did was move a couple of steps before stopping, refusing to move any further. 'Vander' had sighed but had let you remain there, and still you remain at your spot, even after 'Silco' has long disappeared into the crowd.

Ekko meets your gaze and leans in, "so, what's your answer?"

"I…I need more time to think." You swallow, glancing at where you last saw 'Silco'.

"You don't have much more time." His eyebrows furrow.

"I know. I just…need to sort some things out first, get rid of the monsters of my past that kind of thing," you joke but Ekko doesn't laugh along.

"Tonight, once the party dies down, come with me to the lab. Heimerdinger said he wants to discuss something with us."

"Sure." With that out of the way, you turn to go and find 'Silco'. He at least needed to know that you would be disappearing tonight. Your heart thunders in your chest, anxiety surfacing as you struggle to think of what to say to him. You can't exactly tell him that you're from an alternate universe and might be going back to your universe soon, that would be insane.

You watch as 'Silco' makes his way over to 'Vander', surprised when he slips an arm around your waist and basically hauls you over as well with a smile.

"So, there's a chance for us yet." He places a hand on 'Vander's' shoulder, looking up at the bigger man. He presses a kiss to your forehead, chuckling, "we'll finally get the rest we deserve, love. Aren't you excited?"

Ekko gapes at you, the pieces finally falling into place. "You —"

"The monsters of my past," you smile sadly at him, letting out a deep breath. "You're not the only one."

Ekko shakes his head but you can tell, he understands. You and Silco, your destinies intertwined no matter the universe. I'm sorry, he mouths. 'Vander' pours a drink for 'Silco' who looks at Ekko with a fondness you've never seen before, a mixture of pride and sass.

"Didn't think I'd miss your big day, did you?" 'Silco' smirks.

"Didn't you try to kill him?" Ekko blurts out and you feel 'Silco's' grip on you tighten. You place your hand on his, thumb brushing over the back of his palm and he shoots you a look of gratitude, taking the glass from 'Vander'.

"The greatest thing we can do in life is find the power to forgive." He raises the glass in toast to 'Vander', gaze softening as he turns to you, taking a sip from his glass before handing the rest to you. "Don't get too drunk, love. I'd rather not have to haul you off to bed later."

"I'm not a child," you pout and 'Silco' laughs, nuzzling into your hair. Ekko chuckles, taking a sip from his drink when suddenly, the lights go out and streamers fall from the ceiling. Powder walks in, turning every head within her vicinity. You watch as Ekko steps forward, taking her hand and begins to dance. Their bodies sway to the beat, moving in sync and the crowd moves to make space for the couple. More begin to dance, twirling upon the dance floor as the music picks up and you can't help but watch, wondering what it's like to feel so free.

"May I?" A voice murmurs in your ear and you look down to find a hand extended towards you. 'Silco' smiles encouragingly and you slip your hand into his.

"I've never —"

"Just follow my lead and trust me."

"Don't you go letting me down, you hear?"

"Have I ever?" He pulls you in, pressing a deep kiss to your lips before spinning you around. Soon, you find yourself led by the music and 'Silco's' gentle guidance, your feet gliding over the dance floor. You feel light as a feather, a big smile gracing your features, eyes focused only on 'Silco' whose gaze remains fixed on you. His fingertips ghost over your skin, sending shivers up your spine and you lean in, lips mere inches away from his before you pull away. You can't recall the last time you felt so alive. The air is electrifying, your lungs gasping for air as 'Silco' pulls you in for another kiss, his arms wrapping themselves around you.

Dawn will come, you know, and the night will be over, but while it lasts, you will squeeze it for every drop of enjoyment it has to offer. You inhale his scent, the cigar ash drowned out by the alcohol he's drunk and capture his lips in a fervent kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and he indulges you, savouring the taste of your wine-tainted lips.

"I love you," he whispers. "Always, and forevermore."

You open your mouth to say the words you never got to say to your Silco but they get stuck in your throat. You struggle to say something back, emotions threatening to overwhelm you.

"Yeah," you finally manage to breathe out. "I know."

His gaze softens, thumb running over your cheek and you almost don't tell him of your plan to visit the lab tonight but you catch a glimpse of Ekko leaving the party and steel yourself. You have to, this is not your world, as much as you wish it were. You can't keep running away, if Silco can find a way to forgive Vander, you can find a way to forgive yourself.

"Silco?" The word feels foreign on your tongue.

"Yes, love?"

"I need to leave."

"Leave?" He echoes, confused.

"I…Ekko asked me to help him with the finishing touches of his Z-Drive." The excuse is flimsy but 'Silco' buys it anyways. His touch lingers just for a little longer but he lets you go, gently pushing you towards the exit.

"Then you better get going, or the boy wonder is going to need to pull an all-nighter again."

You blink and then smile sadly at him. "Before…I forget. I want — I want to thank you." Grief bubbles to the surface again and you swallow hard. "For everything. Whether you know it or not, you — you've done so much for me. You mean the world to me, you're my everything and — and I don't know what I'd do without you, but I have to try. For your sake and mine. I can't just keep wallowing in despair, grieve as the world moves on around me, I have to move on, keep going one step at a time, because you'd want me to."

Tears prick the corners of your eyes and you whirl around, quickly fleeing as tears flow down your face freely, blurring your vision. You hear 'Silco' call out to you but his voice is muffled by the blood roaring in your ears and the pattering of your shoes against the ground as you run, run and run until you reach the lab.

Ekko and Heimerdinger turn to face you, concern written all over their faces as you harshly wipe away the tears, sniffing.

"So, what's the update?" Your voice wavers.

"Good news! The machine is ready!" Heimerdinger chirps.

"I see. Good thing I've laid the monsters to rest then." You take a deep breath, stepping into the machine with Ekko. "Time to go home."

As the machine comes to life, the arcane begins to whirl around you, howling. This is it, no more going back, no more running away, no more chasing the past. You watch as Heimerdinger connects the power cables, your limbs going numb as he disappears into thin air. Your alternate self's body and Ekko's appear on the floor, unconscious as Powder and 'Silco' run in, eyes wide.

You watch as 'Silco' hugs your alternate self's body to his chest, then looks up at your real body floating inside the sphere. Your gazes connect for the final time and you feel your heart ache. You want to reach out to him, feel his skin on yours one last time, taste his lips one last time, hold him one last time but you know you can't. Your Silco is gone, physically, and there's no bringing him back. So instead you mouth the words you've always wanted to say, trusting that your Silco will hear it anyways from wherever he is in the afterlife, if there even is one.

I love you.

And the arcane snaps everything to black.

[asukachii]

"Where'd you learn those moves?"

"Oh, I was just following your lead."

[n3arell-art]

the worst of all blessings // the best of all curses

[bucketsofgiggles]

no thoughts except for how, even in the best timeline for the universe at-large, Vi and Powder are still separated. even the happiest, "everyone lives AU" version of these characters sees Vi and Powder's relationship ultimately be a tragic one. all Vi wanted growing up was for Powder to know she deserved better than Piltover's runoff and in the universe where Powder got that, Vi isn't even around to see it.

[rhaellatully]

I don't know if someone already did this but here's my translation of Ma Meilleure Ennemie (I'm french):

Intro (sang by the chorus, heard in the background through out the song):

Je t'aime, je t'attends (x8)

I love you, I wait for you

First verse (sang by stromae):

T'es la meilleure chose qui m'est arrivée

You're the best thing that happened to me

Mais aussi la pire chose qui m'est arrivéе

But also the worst thing that happened to me

Ce jour où je t'ai rencontréе, j'aurais peut-être préféré

That day I met you, I would have probably prefered

Que ce jour ne soit jamais arrivé (Arrivé)

That it never happened (happened)

La pire des bénédictions

The worst blessing

La plus belle des malédictions

The most beautifull curse

De toi, j'devrais m'éloigner

From you, I should pull away

Mais comme dit le dicton :

But as goes the saying

"Plutôt qu'être seul, mieux vaut être mal accompagné"

"Rather than be alone, better to be in bad company"*

Refrain (sang by both):

Tu sais c'qu'on dit

You know what they say

Sois près d'tes amis les plus chers

Be close of you're dearest friend (this part is sang by stromae alone)

Mais aussi

But also

Encore plus près d'tes adversaires

Even closer of your oponent (this part is sang by pomme alone)

Mais ma meilleure ennemie, c'est toi

But my best enemie, is you

Fuis-moi, le pire, c'est toi et moi

Flee from me, the worst, is you and me

Mais si tu cherches encore ma voix

But if you still search my voice (sang by pomme alone)

Oublie-moi, le pire, c'est toi et moi

Forget me, the worst, is you and me (same)

Second verse (sang by pomme):

Pourquoi ton prénom me blesse

Why does your name wounds me

Quand il se cache juste là dans l'espace ?

When it hides right here in the room**?

C'est quelle émotion, la haine

Which emotion is hatred

Ou la douceur, quand j'entends ton prénom ?

which is softness, when I hear your name?

Je t'avais dit : "Ne regarde pas en arrière"

I told you "don't look back"

Le passé qui te suit te fait la guerre

The past that follows you is at war with you

Refrain (sang by both) x2:

Mais ma meilleure ennemie, c'est toi

But my best enemie, is you

Fuis-moi, le pire, c'est toi et moi

Flee from me, the worst, is you and me

Outro (sang by chorus):

Je t'aime, je t'attends (x16)

I love you, I wait for you

*the real saying is "mieux vaut etre seul qu'être mal accompagner" or "better to be alone than in bad compagny"

**the word used here is espace wich can mean a room or space, I choose to translate with room because I interprete it as Jinx hearing an echo somewhere it reminding her of ekko, and the word space is associated with well the space outside of earth where there is no sound so...