Chapter Text
Shit. I’m not dead.
Jayce Talis, the Defender of Tomorrow, Son of Piltover, and (self-proclaimed) handsomest man in Piltover rolled over onto his stomach, the taste of bloodied earth pervading his mouth. He didn’t harbor any particular distaste for living normally, but the throbbing pain in his head and the dozen or so arrows protruding from his back like some post-apocalyptic pincushion weren’t helping him see the bright side of things at the moment. His day hadn’t gone the way he had hoped, as was clear with the still-flickering cyborg corpses littered around his own half-dead self. However, Jayce was nothing if not optimistic, so he paid little mind to the fact that he was going to die of blood loss, internal bleeding, or a myriad of other health complications that were more painful than the last. Besides, he was the hero of Piltover, and heroes didn’t defeat the bad guys only to die of something stupid a couple hours later.
Pushing himself to his elbows, Jayce huffed out a pained breath as partly-scabbed areas of his body cracked to allow him to move. Nothing I can’t handle. Instead of focusing on the soon-approaching reality of having to hobble home in his current condition, Jayce decided to take stock of his surroundings.
His hammer lay abandoned a few feet away from him, the shaft sticking out of a cyborg. Small blue sparks flickered from the corpses, and a burnt electrical smell stagnated around him, making him feel a little lightheaded. The sun hung high at the zenith of its journey, and the haze of blood still lingering in the air made Jayce feel warm and sticky, like the time he had stumbled into the furnace room of the Academy during orientation while searching for the restrooms. It was midday, so it couldn’t have been more than a couple hours since the showdown, unless Jayce had been knocked unconscious for an entire day, which he doubted, since the corpses around him were still so fresh.
Not corpses. The… cyborgs.
Of course, the cyborgs. Who else could come so close to getting the upper hand on the one and only Jayce? Even so, normally even they were naught but nuisances to someone as strong as him. So then, why had he nearly been beaten this time? Something must have been different this time…
Oh. Oh, shit.
Jayce’s heart raced, and his fists clenched as the memories rushed back. The legions of cyborgs, the incessant clanking of armor against armor, and the crown jewel at the very front of the army, the picture of a disgraced god come to reclaim his throne. Jayce had stood there, unable to move, even as his comrades engaged in battle against the onslaught of enemies.
Viktor.
He hadn’t seen the man in ages. Not since their last fight, more than three years ago. That late in their relationship, they were constantly arguing, at each other’s throats because of misaligned morals and delusions of grandeur. Viktor had stormed out of their laboratory, and Jayce had sent him off with a barrage of words that would most definitely not be suitable for the golden boy of Piltover. The next morning, Viktor was gone. And, along with him, the Hex Core.
Ever since that day, cyborgs had begun to torment Jayce. At first, there were one or two every month that attacked from the shadows. Now, he could no longer go a week without having to take out the newest spawn of that twisted man’s imagination. They were everywhere. Razing a plot of land he used to grow crops to the ground. Hiding in his house to ambush him when he returned from a hard day of work. Disguised as the delegation he was supposed to meet with to discuss increasing iron prices. Jayce had become wary of everything and everyone, and his anxiety had skyrocketed. He lost control of his temper easily, and had been escorted out of several Council meetings. Rumors had spread that the glorious Head of the Council had cracked under the pressure his job caused. Ha. As if such insignificant things could possibly have an impact on my health. These cyborgs are nothing but a slight imperfection in my life.
The screech of metal behind him nearly made Jayce jump out of his own skin, and he whirled around to face his unknown adversary before crumpling from a sudden, sharp pain that racked his entire body. His eyes squeezed shut as he could do nothing but wait out the excruciating pain. Fuck, everything hurts.
With teary eyes, Jayce managed to lift his head to see who the assailant was that caused him so much pain. However, there was nothing. The cause of the noise was a cyborg corpse, which had shifted in post-death throes. It normally took the machine parts of these half-humans a longer time to give up and die, so it was common for the appendages to twist and twitch hours after the body had breathed its last breath. Still, it didn’t explain the debilitating pain that had set his every nerve on fire.
Releasing a breath he hadn’t known he was holding, Jayce mentally berated himself and picked himself up once more. No more of this nonsense. I need to get back to the Academy and get treated. He had been on the way home from the Academy when all of this had started, so it wasn’t that far of a walk. For a physically fit, uninjured person, that is. In Jayce’s condition, he would be lucky to get there before sundown. Or before bleeding out. Whichever came first.
Better get going, then, Golden Boy.
Without any more hesitation, Jayce took a shaky step toward his hammer, then took stock of his situation. I’m not dead. That’s good. He took another step, then another. His legs wobbled, but it was nothing a man of his might couldn’t handle. Bending down slowly so as not to irritate his injuries, Jayce wrapped a hand around the spot where the shaft of his hammer met with the head. However, after a few pulls, he stopped because of the explosion of pain that blossomed across his back. Gritting his teeth, Jayce deemed it futile to continue trying to pull out his hammer and knew it would only worsen his already-pathetic condition. Instead, he ran a hand along his face, taking comfort in the fact that there didn’t seem to be any injuries that would scar and permanently ruin his visage. He, Jayce Talis, had triumphed over evil, even with Viktor himself battling against him. That was the important part. He could come back for his hammer once he got treatment at the Academy. Besides, after a battle this large, even Viktor would have to spend some time to replenish his army.
Viktor. Is he…? No, he can’t be. I would’ve remembered ending that man’s life.
Jayce had had dreams about killing Viktor. Every night, the man would appear in his dreams, and they would battle. There were nights where Jayce succeeded, watching with relish as his hands, coursing with the power of HexTech, crushed the fragile windpipe of his former assistant. Viktor would beg him for mercy, hands weakly scraping against Jayce’s iron grip. There would be no mercy, and Jayce would triumph, and he would wake up with a smile on his face. But then, there were the nights where he failed. These dreams were never the same, always shifting and morphing into worse and worse versions of the same fate. In some, Jayce would have the upper hand, but Viktor or his cyborgs would gut him through before Jayce could finish the job. In others, Viktor had the upper hand from the start, and Jayce would be the one to beg for his life to be spared even as Viktor tortured him. He woke from these dreams in a cold sweat, often accompanied by a ragged yell. But, in the very worst dreams, one of their pleas to stop would be answered. The pain would cease suddenly, and they would look at each other, warily catching their breath, before… Stop. I have more important things to focus on. Where is that bastard?
None of the corpses looked like him. But, then again, did Jayce even really know what Viktor looked like now? He had the occasional glimpse whenever one of Viktor’s absurd theories or call for arms made the news, and the appearance changes always shocked Jayce. Every time, there were more and more mechanics, and less of the man Jayce had known. It was as if Viktor was trying to erase any trace that he had ever had a mortal body, in his quest to achieve the perfect being in this Glorious Revolution he wouldn’t stop talking about. In doing so, Jayce could hardly recognize the man—or, more accurately, machine, that his former friend had become.
Another pain wracked his body, and this time Jayce smelt a burnt, electrical scent before collapsing. A gurgle escaped his lips as his body convulsed against the floor, small blue currents running up and down his body for almost a minute before subsiding enough for Jayce to stand up a third time. What the hell is this? What did those damn bots do to me?!
With a snarl, Jayce glared at the corpses all around him, looking for something to blame for this invisible assailant that wouldn’t present itself. After all, how could someone fight against something that occurs within their own body? A sense of hopelessness rose in his stomach like bile, but Jayce pushed it down immediately. I just need to get back to the Academy, and someone will fix me. Move, fool. You’ve wasted enough time already.
Jayce growled, clenching his fists so hard his fingernails cut into his palms. The fresh pain helped ground him, and he resumed his slow hobble towards salvation. As he walked, Jayce kept his eyes on the blurred building ahead of him, refusing to let the row upon row of corpses distract him. That is, until one of them called his name.
“J…Jayce. Wait.”
The man halted in his tracks, warily turning his head to look at who had addressed him. At first, he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but then…
There.
Under three other corpses, presumably guards, a body fashioned with different, more intricate pieces of hardware just barely showed itself. Jayce’s breath caught in his throat as his brain fired off a dozen synapses at once.
Kill him. Ignore him. Save him. Strangle him. Torture him. Kiss him.
This had to be a trick. Jayce would show kindness and bend down to help an old friend, and a cyborg would stab him in his back or crush his head in with a rock.
Nope. Not taking that chance.
Turning around, Jayce took another step toward the Academy. As if in response, the pain that had made him convulse struck again, this time for well over a minute. However, this time, his cries of anguish weren’t alone. A second, more garbled scream came from Viktor’s mouth, although he didn’t move at all. After the wave of pain subsided, Jayce took in a shaky breath and glanced at Viktor.
“You’re affected too.” It was a statement, not a question. After a heavy silence broken only by the two’s ragged breaths, Viktor finally said in an almost inaudible whisper, “...Yes. It appears so. How… improbable.”
Jayce knelt down to grasp Viktor’s chin with his hand in a rough hold, the sharp edges of metal slicing a cut into his palm as he lifted the smaller man into a sitting position. Viktor made no motion to protest, nor did help Jayce drag him out of the pile of bodies. “Take this… curse off, or I swear I’ll snap your neck this instant. Let’s see how you rebuild yourself then.” He tightened his hold, sending warm trickles of his blood down Viktor’s metal neck, and Viktor’s breath quickened. Jayce felt immensely satisfied then, although he couldn’t tell whether it was because Viktor was afraid or because the genius hadn’t managed to get rid of his need for oxygen. At least he still sounded human. Either way, the sporadic pants of air Viktor took helped calm Jayce’s frayed temper.
“You’ve always led with your actions, Jayce, even if they’re foolish. Like this instant. Try to be reasonable here. If I knew how to get rid of this, don’t you think I would’ve taken it off myself so I would be able to move? Help me out, and we can figure this out. Together. Like we used to. If you kill me in this immobile state, you’ll die soon after. I’m your only hope.”
Jayce’s eyes narrowed suspiciously as digested Viktor’s words. He knew that Viktor was lying through his teeth, appealing to Jayce’s ego and morals in the hopes of being saved. Whether or not Viktor could actually help Jayce was debatable. As he said, the man was literally locked in his own body, the mechanical parts jammed from whatever current had afflicted them both. No wonder he had called for Jayce. Without help, Viktor would likely die of starvation or dehydration before someone noticed that he was still alive. It would be an immensely slow and painful death.
A wry smile spread across Jayce’s lips when he realized the power he had in this instant. With a smooth motion, he drew back his hand, then laughed cruelly as Viktor immediately slumped over and raised a dust cloud as his head hit the dirt. “If you have no way to help me, why would I help your sorry ass? You’ve caused me enough trouble over the years, Vik. And now, you have the audacity to ask for my help after you nearly killed me? I should smite you where you stand for that alone. No, that would be too kind. Having you suffer, surrounded by your failed machines as you slowly die of hunger and thirst, will be much more satisfying. Don’t you agree?”
Jayce smirked as Viktor’s breath caught at the nickname, then struggled to hide the momentary lapse. “You… You wouldn’t. You’re the Golden Boy of Piltover. Would you leave someone that needed your help to fend for himself? Not even you’re that heartless.” But his voice wasn’t as certain anymore. It was faster, higher. Tinged with desperation.
The laugh that came in response to this was enough to give Viktor a twinge of fear. “Are you serious? I may be the Golden Boy, but that doesn’t mean I have to be nice to all the vermin I have to put in place. Especially someone, or some thing , as revolting as you. Such pests like you deserve to be crushed under the heels of the righteous so they can pay penance in whatever afterlife there may be.”
“You can’t believe in all that, Jayce. Please, see reason. The Council has brainwashed you. All of Piltover has. The Jayce I knew wouldn’t do this.”
With a snarl of rage, Jayce wrapped his hands around Viktor’s neck, to the surprise and pain of the other. His vision shone red as he started to squeeze. Panic in the fiery orange faux eyes that hide his true face, Viktor sputtered for air. “The Jayce you knew doesn’t exist anymore, Viktor. And you want to know why?” Jayce leaned down to Viktor’s face, now coated in the settled dust and the semi-dried blood from Jayce’s palm, before whispering the next words in a low, dangerous tone.
“Because you killed him.”