Chapter Text
There’s a hole in his head.
There’s a hole in his head and a corpse of a man named Jayce Talis lying next to him.
But somehow, despite all odds, Viktor is alive.
Alive and desperate to get off the side of this damn mountain.
He gasps as he comes to. Wind whips around him, biting his face.
Blowing his hair wildly. Tangling it up.
But Viktor doesn’t feel cold. In fact, he’s not feeling much of anything as he looks at the lifeless eyes of his former partner.
Glazed.
Empty.
Those ignite something within him.
Viktor screams.
Screams until his lungs burn.
Screams until hot tears run down his face, leaving trails as they wash away the dirt caked on it.
He forgets there’s a hole in his head.
The mountain is barren. Lifeless. Only rocks and fog surround him. He stumbles as he stands. Right leg screeches in agony. A painful reminder that he’s human again.
And yet as human as he is, there’s a massive hole in his head.
He’s pretty sure he should be dead from that.
Maybe he’s not human after all. Humans can’t survive such extreme head injuries.
But he did.
Unless he’s dead too.
As for what to do about Jayce, he doesn’t know. Leaving him feels cruel, but Viktor knows he can’t carry Jayce.
There are rocks. He can do something with them. Clumsily, he walks. Stubs his bare feet against the gravel and rocks. Gathers stones of varying sizes. One by one he builds a burial mound. It’s the least he can do. Offer Jayce’s body some protection from the decay that will come.
More than he has from the elements as his blanket furiously whips against his back.
Down, Viktor concludes. He has to go down. Or should he stay and die here? Lay before the burial mound and rest in peace at last?
He’s pretty sure that won’t work. After all . . .
There’s a hole in his head.
It doesn’t hurt, but he knows it’s there. He has no vision in his right eye and part of his head feels empty. As if that section of skull and brain is gone.
Jayce wouldn’t want him to die, he thinks.
So down he goes.
***
Viktor walks and walks and walks and walks.
Stumbling repeatedly as he makes his descent.
But no matter how far he walks, he feels as if he’s making no progress.
And then, in the distance, he sees it.
A burial mound. The one he made hours (?) (days?) ago.
Flabbergasted, Viktor falls to his knees and howls in frustration.
“What do you want?!” He screams.
“Vik . . . tor . . .”
His heart plummets.
“Jayce?”
Silence.
“JAAYYCCEE!!” He wails again. Louder. Hoping to hear something.
“Viktor . . .”
It’s a whisper, but he knows it. He knows that voice. And that also means . . .
Oh god he’s buried Jayce alive.
At least, that is what he thinks as he frantically begins removing the stones. But to his horror, he’s met with a pair of lifeless, dull amber eyes.
Jayce Talis is dead.
He’s certain of that now.
Viktor collapses on top of the corpse and weeps for a long, long time. The moon rises. Stil,l he weeps. Ignorant of the freezing air. Nuzzling into the chest of the corpse for any sign of warmth.
The corpse is colder than anything he’s ever felt in his life.
When the first rays of sun hit his face, he barely registers it. All he knows he’s still on the mountain. And if he goes down again, he might end up back at the grave.
What can he do differently?
He swallows as a knot forms in his chest. There’s only one thing he can do.
Where he goes, Jayce has to go with him.
Laughter escapes his throat as he came to his absurd conclusion. Yet it makes sense.
They were partners in life.
Why not be partners in death, or whatever the hell this is because it certainly can’t be Runeterra.
No, no you can’t just walk down a mountain and end up exactly where you started. That would be insane. Comically insane. As ridiculous as . . .
Walking around a mountain nearly naked with a gaping hole in your head.
This has to be hell. Or some in-between. And being stuck with the corpse of Jayce Talis is part of it, he figures.
He grabs the corpse’s arms. Wraps them around his shoulders. His spine protests over the added weight, threatening to bend and break. But he knows he can take it.
After all, if he can walk around with a hole in his head, what can he not do at this point?
Slowly, Viktor begins descending down the mountain again. This time with Jayce’s corpse in tow.
***
It’s brutal work.
Walking down the rocky terrain with the enormous weight now.
He trips and stumbles.
Scrapes his feet and legs more times than he can count.
His body isn’t built to carry something this large.
But he does it anyways. After all, he’s not feeling nearly as much pain as he thinks he should be.
Is something wrong with his pain receptors?
His feet are bloodied. Bruises are forming on his legs. The wind cuts into his face. Stings his remaining eye. None of it hurts him.
He should stop.
Viktor doesn’t stop.
He marches forward with dogged determination.
Progress, he thinks.
Surely he is making progress this time.
But he’s not sure. The clouds roll in even thicker. The wind becomes fiercer.
Viktor stumbles more. Falls flat on his face multiple times. At one point he thinks he’s twisted his right ankle after a particularly nasty fall.
The angle tells him he has.
The lack of pain makes him uncertain.
He keeps going.
Is it night or day? For some reason he can’t tell anymore.
How many days has it been? Three? Or has it been three weeks? Maybe even three months? No, no Jayce’s corpse would have decayed by then.
But then again, he’s walking around barely covered on a rocky mountain with a corpse on his back.
And there’s a hole in his head that should have ended him long ago.
***
“Why can’t I leave you?” He asks the corpse one day during a break. “Why must you come with me everywhere, even when I tell you not to?!”
And to his horror, the corpse blinks. A ghastly grin spreads on its face.
“Because we’re partners.” It says, before laughing. “There’s a hole in your head. Did you know that?”
Its face decays in front of him. Flesh melts off, revealing the skull beneath. Eyes roll from their sockets. Teeth fall to the ground. Yet it laughs and laughs and laughs and laughs until . . .
He blinks again and it stops.
It’s only a face staring back at him now. An empty, lifeless face.
And Viktor has a hole in his head.
Viktor screams.
***
She stands out in the distance. White celestial hair pulled up neatly into a bun. Eyes furrowed at him. She seems pensive. Uncertain.
“Sky?” Viktor calls out to the figure.
She doesn’t respond. Only looks at him mournfully.
He tries to pick up the pace.
Tries to reach her.
He falls and smashes his forehead on a rock instead. Bogged down by the crushing weight of Jayce’s corpse.
When he looks up, she’s gone.
***
“Why did you stop?” The Herald asks him in the wind. “You almost did it. You almost set everyone on the right path towards the glorious evolution.”
He doesn’t reply to the Herald. He wants nothing to do with that thing anymore.
***
“You’re really going to try and drag me off this mountain?” The corpse asks him during another break. “Why?”
“You said so yourself. Because we’re partners.” Viktor coolly replies.
“Partners.”The corpse laughs again. “You left me, remember?”
He looks away when he sees the face begin to decay again.
“LOOK AT ME VIKTOR!” The corpse shrieks. “LOOK AT WHAT YOU’VE DONE TO ME!”
His head spins.
He covers his ears.
And waits for the shrieking to stop.
***
He doesn’t sleep.
Not much anyways.
He stops when he thinks he should let his body rest.
But he can’t even tell that anymore.
What he can tell is he shouldn’t be walking.
In fact, there are a lot of things Viktor should and shouldn’t be doing.
He should eat and drink.
He hasn’t felt the need for either of those things.
He should sleep.
Sleep is borderline impossible. The nightmares are too much.
He shouldn’t be walking. Not with that ankle and his feet the way they are.
He walks anyways. Pain doesn’t register the way it should.
Broken feet.
Crippled leg.
Back supporting a weight it cannot bear.
Marching on and on to where he does not know.
There’s a hole in his head.
And Viktor should be dead.
But he isn’t.
***
Another day passes. He trudges along. Body aching. Shoulders unbelievably sore from the weight he’s carrying. Feet swollen and bloody. Raw from the lack of protection. Legs and knees all purple and yellow from bruising. His face isn’t faring much better, he thinks.
But as he descends below the fog and clouds, his eye lays upon something new.
Trees.
A massive, conifer forest at the base of the mountain. A sea of never-ending green. Stretching as far as the eye can see.
Viktor feels something.
He hesitates to call it ‘hope’. But now there is certainly progress. Maybe he’ll be able to escape this hell after all.
“There! Do you see that?!” He points at the trees below.
“You’re a fool, Viktor.” The corpse says.
“Says the dead man. We’re leaving and that’s final!”
***
With more fervor in his step, he continues the descent. Almost giddy with glee. He’s going to escape this mountain. Maybe even be able to leave behind Jayce’s corpse.
Wood has so many possibilities. Fire. Shelter. Funereal pyre.
As he draws closer, something in the distance catches his eye.
Smoke.
Dark, grey smoke.
Was there a town? A village nearby?
No, there would be more if that were the case. He registers only one plume.
A campfire, perhaps?
Regardless, it means he isn’t alone. And it gives him a new purpose as his gut tells him to go in that direction. That only there will he find any answers to his predicament.
But how should he approach whoever was stoking the fire? After all . . .
There’s a hole in his head.
And it’s driving him mad at this point that he’s not dead from it yet.
When is this nightmare going to end?
***
The sky is visible now. It’s clear and blue. He hears birds as the forest draws nearer. Sees flowers sprouting from the rocks. At the base, he finds a stream. Small and shallow.
Viktor collapses on his knees and drinks. How he’s gone this long without water, he doesn’t know. But then again, a lot of things aren’t making sense.
He should be in agony, with how his feet are.
He should be frostbitten.
He should be dead because there’s a hole in his head. And he can’t stop thinking about it.
The water is too murky for him to see his reflection clearly. Or maybe he’s too tired to register his face.
He lifts up his palms and drinks more water. The corpse stares at him.
“What?! Did you want some too?” Viktor laughs. He’s fairly certain he’s lost his mind at this point. Delusional from the ordeal on the mountain. Hell, everything he’s experienced in the past year alone would be enough to break someone.
But yet he hasn’t broken (or has he?).
Just as he hasn’t died, no matter how many fatal-injuries he suffers. His body won’t stop.
Maybe he’s the corpse and Jayce has been alive all along.
Maybe he’s so far gone with madness he cannot tell the living from the dead.
Or maybe they’re both corpses at this point. He’s just walking for whatever reason.
He picks up the corpse again and keeps marching towards the smoke plume in the distance. It’s still visible. Like a beacon of light.
There’s a reason for it. There has to be.
***
Another day passes.
At least he can more easily tell this time. Viktor keeps walking. He pushes on and on and on. The smoke plume is growing closer and closer. He thinks he’ll be there before nightfall if he keeps going at this rate.
His feet have other plans.
He trips and falls, slamming his head into the rocks beside the stream. His crooked ankle is more crooked now. And his feet look horrendous. Bloody and mangled. Purple and yellow. Swollen. Caked in dirt and dried blood.
He tries to stand. He can’t. His legs give out again and he’s left under the weight of Jayce Talis’s corpse.
Viktor laughs.
Laughs as he shoves the corpse off his body.
Laughs as he rolls onto his back in the shallow stream.
Laughs as he stares up at the unforgiving sun. He sits up and looks over at the corpse.
“This is fucked up, isn’t it?” He asks. “I’m so dreadfully close. But I don’t think I can crawl with you there. So what happens now? Do we reset at the mountain?”
The corpse blinks.
“What makes you think there’s an end to this? After all you’ve done?”
Chills run down his spine.
“No . . .”
“You have to pay.”
“Haven’t I paid-”
“You killed thousands.”
The stream is as red as blood. Or maybe it’s become blood? It runs around him. Staining his hands. The sky is crimson now too. With the pale sun casting dark shadows on everything.
It really is hell.
“I didn’t mean to-”
“THOUSANDS!” The corpse howls with the voices of dead as it sits up and faces him. Eyes white with fury. “WE ARE ALL DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU!”
And Viktor snaps.
He lunges forward and punches the corpse’s face. Howling with each blow. His knuckles crack and bleed. But no matter how hard he punches, the corpse’s face doesn’t change. It laughs and laughs and Viktor is starting to think Jayce is made of rock when . . .
“Viktor?”
That . . . that sounds awfully familiar. He turns to look behind him. But what he sees is the Herald. Tall and looming. Eyes glowing as the third arm rises from behind and chitters away. Channeling runes in the air.
It is Death itself.
Finally here to claim him.
“Are you here to take me?” He growls. But the Herald doesn’t say anything. It only cocks it head, like it’s confused over the suggestion. “Don’t give me that look! This is all your fault! He’s dead because of you!”
He points at Jayce’s corpse.
“Viktor . . .” The Herald says mournfully.
“Oh shut the fuck up!” He tries to stand, but he can’t. He stumbles and falls, catching himself on his elbows. The Herald approaches slowly. Drifting to him like a ghost.
“No . . .” Viktor weeps. Tears burn down his cheek. “Nonononono it wasn’t supposed to go this way! You were supposed to live! It’s my fault . . . it’s all my fault . . . Jayce . . .”
The Herald says something, but he doesn’t register it. His cries are drowning out everything now.
“Just take me. Please . . . end this.” He begs as he tugs at the Herald’s cape. “Please . . . I’m so tired . . .”
The Herald doesn’t say anything as it crouches before him. It rests its hands on him and to his surprise, they’re warm. Shockingly warm in a way that feels familiar.
He knows this touch.
He meets the Herald’s gaze and finds himself feeling oddly comforted by the glowing amber orbs behind the mask.
Amber like . . .
His brain can’t finish the thought. He blinks and suddenly he finds his vision darkening. Death at last, he thinks as he falls forward.
And feels the warm embrace of the Herald.
. . .
. . .
. . .
“Oh, Viktor . . .”