Ephemeral

The sky was an endless cloud of grey, result of the nonstop smog being pumped through the city. It looked as if it was going to rain soon, but it usually did. As Viktor walked down the crowded alley towards a familiar bar, he slightly wished it would. It would certainly do no good for his aching limbs, but he would greatly appreciate a reason to avoid this meeting. Silco was expecting him, and even though he knew better than to make the man wait, he found himself getting slower and slower as he neared the door to his office.

The man had requested him to arrive at his office a half hour prior, and as soon as he had gotten word he was already dreading it. Unfortunately, the man had a dangerously strong power over the undercity, so even if he turned back now and trekked back to his small apartment—he would still end up talking to him either way.

He thought of his apartment longingly, missing his cat Rio greatly. He would much rather be on his stiff bed enjoying the soft pitter patter of rain, he mused. But to be fair, he would rather be doing anything else than talking to Silco right now.

It seemed as though the man had sensed his presence, and Viktor’s raised fist faltered at the sound of a voice. “Vikor,” he said, “Come in, won’t you?” He adjusted his cane as he brought his hand down again, resting heavier on his good leg as he pushed open the door. Inside sat Silco, resting in his chair as usual. He seemed indifferent to Viktor entering the room, not turning towards him from where he faced the window. The light tap of his cane seemed to be enough for the man, and he began speaking as soon as he heard the door shut.

“You’re aware that you are one of my top scientists, if not the best.” Viktor hesitated, surprised by the sudden compliment. “Thank you, sir. I’m glad my work is… efficient.” Silco let out a quiet huff of laughter, and turned his chair around to face him. He had a cigar in his hand, and the flame bit at the ends of it with little vigor. He took a long drag before snuffing it out with a practiced movement, sighing out the smoke after. Viktor was sure that if Silco wasn’t to be assassinated soon, he would most likely pass from some sort of lung cancer. The sheer amount of times Viktor had warily entered a smoke filled office was slightly concerning, and he wasn’t sure if the man’s lungs were still fully intact.

Silco tilted his head, silently watching Viktor for a long moment, before smiling cooly. “You’re very interesting…” Viktor furrowed a brow, trying to understand what this meet could possibly mean. “Eh… Thank you, Sir..?” Silco just tilted his head back with a hollow laugh that sounded just as fake as the man’s eye, clearly finding some sort of amusement in his answer. “You are very welcome; I don’t just give out compliments, boy.” he informed. “But that’s beside the point of why I called you here.”

Viktor perked up at that, not being a fan of the awkward small talk they shared in moments like these. He would much rather prefer talk of shimmer than any sort of… whatever was going on at the moment.

“I have a new… mission, for you.” He spoke slowly, letting the words roll off his tongue like the smoke from his cigar. Viktor squinted his eyes, taking in the man’s expression—or at least trying to. He wore a calm mask of icy coolness, and it unsettled Viktor to his core no matter how many times he saw it.

“A… mission?” Viktor said, “You don’t usually word my projects in such a way.” Silco let out a huff of laughter, a cold sound. “That’s because I don’t want you to make me something.” Viktor furrowed his brows, not understanding what else the man would want him to do. His job was to create inventions—and that was it. If his mission wasn’t to make something, then he had little to no clue what else it could be. “What… is it that you require my expertise for then, sir?” Viktor was sure that if it was any other sort of mission, or what could be better called heist, was—he could’ve just called one if his henchmen. It wasn’t exactly a secret that Viktor wasn’t a fighter, if his frail body didn’t show this enough, his violent coughing did the job.

Silco smirked at him, pulling open a drawer from his desk. Viktor followed the movement with his eyes, curious as to what the man would pull out. He slipped out a paper, and put it down, covering the majority of it with his hand. A grimace pulled at Viktor’s face, he wasn’t in the mood to play games with the man. As he was just about to timidly ask the man to remove the hand obscuring the image from view, Silco began to speak again.

“You know why I keep you around, Viktor?” Silco slid the paper off to the side, turning it over and fully hiding the picture from view now. “Because… I make you things?” Silco nodded, tilting his head for a moment. “Yes, that is true—but that isn’t the only reason.” Silco said, “I have a much more selfish reason to keep you around.” Viktor’s face scrunched up, not exactly liking how Silco’s word’s sounded.

“It may sound childish but… I’ve always enjoyed a good puzzle.” Silco looked as if he was recalling a memory as he spoke, and Viktor thought it was the most human he had ever looked. “Ever since I was a kid, I remember practically salivating over the mere thought of cracking some sort of code- figuring out the mystery component that I was missing.” His hands twitched as he spoke, and Silco looked as if he wanted to reach into thin air and pull out a memory—some sort of treasure. It was odd, Viktor admitted to himself, to see someone so usually cold and calculating show any sort of normal, human emotion.

Silco silenced for a bit, reigning himself in a bit. His face seemed to slip back into the cold and calculated mask Viktor knew so well, and it was almost a bit relieving. “You know, Viktor...” He spoke quieter now, more sullen. “You remind me an awful lot of a sort of puzzle. The type that you just can't quite find the right piece for, and you wonder if it even exists. Every time I think I get close to figuring you out, getting that last puzzle piece into place, something new throws me off.” He looked up at him, a less feral look in his eyes—almost kind.

“That's why I keep you around, it's as simple as that. I want to solve my puzzle.”

Almost kind. Almost kind because Silco was a cold-hearted killer that held nothing but sour hatred in his heart.

Viktor took in a breath, trying not to let his eyes roll. “What was I called here for, Sir?” Silco glanced towards where the paper lay face down, letting a sly smirk play at his lips. “As I said before, I have a mission for you.” he said, “Though I know this is not in your usual job description, I think you will succeed my expectations in this line of work.” Silco slid the paper back in front of him, keeping it faced towards the desk. “I need you to help me… borrow work, while hiding your identity, of course.”

Viktor quirked a brow, grimacing. “So, you want me to go… undercover?”

Silco let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head lightly. “You could say that.” He rested his hand upon the paper, grabbing a corner. “But not just for any work.” He grabbed the edge of the paper and turned it over with a flamboyant flip of his hand.

A piercing smile stared back at him, gold eyes looking far past Viktor—and the bold title Man of Progress almost seemed to mock him.

“Fuck no.”

—

It seemed no matter what Viktor said, Silco was determined to ignore the absolute absurdity of his little plan.

Not only was Viktor from the undercity, but the esteemed Jayce Talis was rumored to be a bit of a prick. He wouldn’t be too bold to assume that having to work with him like Silco had planned would be an excruciating pain in the ass. Unfortunately, Silco didn’t care for his pains—and gave him a plan to adhere to. He would become Jayce Talis’ partner, steal his work when he could, deliver info to Silco, and then at the end of the year he would vanish—faking his death most likely.

At the last part of the plan, Viktor almost collapsed in on himself. Not at the mention at faking his own death, which albeit should have probably worried him more, but at the prospect of spending an entire year in the other’s vicinity. Once again, Silco did not care much for his complains—and sent him on his way with a wave of his hand. He was to pack all the things he would need and move into a rented out apartment in Piltover by next week, and he found himself slightly mad that he had only gotten a week to prepare for such a huge change.

But as he packed up his life, he found himself not all too upset about the scenery change. Piltover may be full of incompetent worthless excuses of people, but the city itself was quite scenic. The beautiful buildings shone bright, and the beautiful sky peaked out from the smog where they were higher up. He was almost excited to be able to explore all of Piltover, but the toothy smile that sat flat on his table quickly snuffed out any extra joy he had for this little mission.

Jayce fucking Talis, the ‘Golden Boy’. He could already assume how the man would act, arrogant and sleazy—probably treating him like an assistant. It didn’t matter anyways though, after a painful year he would be gone and never have to see him again. That seemed to be the only thing keeping his head up as he moved into the quaint apartment in Piltover.

It was small, but he somewhat liked it better that way—it was almost homey. Rio seemed to like it well enough, and he was glad for the small joy.

As he sat by the window with a content cat curled on his lap, he thought.

It couldn’t be all that bad, it’s just a year—nothing much could possibly happen in the short span of a year.

—

Soon enough the day came where he would meet Talis, and he spent the better half of the day pacing around his apartment. It would be a stretch to say he was nervous, more agitated than anything. If he met the man, he would have no choice but to carry out the plan. It was like signing his next year away with a shiny gold pen that was Jayce Talis. Even though he knew that he had signed his time away far earlier, somewhere between when he’d entered Silco’s office and left it, he let himself feel a bitter resentment for the events that were to follow.

It was scheduled to meet Talis within their soon-to-be shared lab, a test run to see if anything happened he assumed. He stopped his pacing, a sudden thought breaking into his mind. If the plan backfired, Silco might pull him out of it to protect the Shimmer factories. So, theoretically, if Viktor horridly messed up their first interaction (Which couldn’t possibly be hard to do, he was a Piltie.) he might be able to go back to Zaun—to his home.

Surely he would get a light scolding from Silco, but he knew that he was too important to the man with the inventions he made to actually be harmed by him. Completely ignoring all the various casualties to the plan, Viktor made to try and create the most unfortunate first meeting one could hope for.

—

Jayce wasn’t exactly what the posters that covered every wall in Piltover made him out to be. He was not the gleaming smile or the strong eyes—he was far quieter than even a silent poster could be. He would like to think of himself as a wallflower, or at least he would have before all the… fame. Not saying that he wasn’t good at mingling with the rich, but he was much better suited for tinkering in a lab.

He could barely even recognize himself when he looked at the images that littered the streets, the bold lettering Man of Progress staring at him mockingly as he passed. It was quite ironic to be titled the man of progress when it seemed the only progress he was making was exploding more than it was working. Fortunately, he managed to create enough functioning inventions to have the Kirramon’s patronage—as well as the Council’s least amount of respect.

But the respect the Council had for him, (Or more likely, the inventions he created.) could only carry him so far. It seemed that when his newest prototype almost took out a high society crowd—their respect dwindled far enough to drop him completely. Jayce would like to argue that it hadn’t completely been his fault, him not being the one who had even invited the people to gather around him on Progress Day, but the scowls he was receiving shut him up pretty quickly.

Nevertheless, he was grateful for the terrifying experience of almost getting exiled, because now he would have a partner. He paced around the room, running his fingers through his hair anxiously as he thought. He had never actually worked with someone before, but he was sure that it couldn’t be all that bad. Frankly—he was excited. Growing up being the weird kid who wore wizard hats and did science for fun, oddly enough wasn’t very appealing to others his age, so he hadn’t had a lot of friends growing up.

Jayce didn’t really have much more friends now, either, he thought. But that wouldn’t matter, when two people are put in a room that have the same passion—you don’t need small talk or friendly gestures. All you need is your brain.

And his brain was ready for whatever equations or formulas that could be thrown at him, he would prove to the Council—and to everybody—that he wasn’t some crazy delusional kid. He was Jayce Talis of House Talis, and he was going to bring magic into the world-

BANG

The sound of an alarm clock falling off a desk broke him out of his thoughts, and he checked his watch, confused. It was still earlier, but his new partner definitely should’ve been here by now. Maybe his watch was just broken, he walked over to the clock now sitting on the floor and turned it over. The hands were in the same position as they were on his watch, and he furrowed his brows as he clicked off the subtle vibrations of it and placed it back down. He didn’t let his confusion pull him into a spiral, he had to stay motivated.

He would bring magic into the world… if his new partner even arrived.

Jayce let out a sigh of air as he slumped into his chair, letting his head fall forward. What if the partnership didn’t even workout? He was sure that they would somehow find another way to place the blame on him. Being optimistic was getting harder by the moment, and he checked his watch again after waiting another ten minutes. He was getting up to prepare and leave, accepting defeat, when the loud bang of a door being slammed open made him jolt up—dropping his papers in surprise.

A lanky man stood in the doorway, his hair disheveled and looking agitated. He was in casual attire, Jayce noticed, a pair of trousers and a button down. He looked awfully dressed down compared to Jayce, who adorned the academy uniform.

The man cleared his throat after a long moment of shared silence. “I am Viktor, your new partner.” As he looked at Viktor in the doorway, he smiled. Even if he was a bit wack, a partner was a partner and a partner meant science.

So with a wide smile that felt less cold, he extended an open hand.

“Nice to meet you Viktor, I’m Jayce—Jayce Talis”