The Highs and Lows of Highschool Football

It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Ekko to wake up in cold sweat.

A hand gripped the side of his head as he lurched towards his knees, the blanket barely acting as a cheap threadbare shock absorbent to save the constant bruising on his chest from where kneecap and rib met in a bright flashes of pain.

But tonight, oh tonight, it was different.

Stumbling to the bathroom felt like a long-winded trek in itself, his shoulder’s bumping into the narrow apartment’s walls until he managed to clamour together his senses, burst through the door and shoved his head deep into the toilet.

Well then, there went dinner.

A hurried knock came from beyond the bathroom door, but the lightest tap caused the door to further push into the room anyways. “Ekko, are you alright?” Benzo’s worried tone sickened Ekko even more. Some nights, he was able to mask these nightmares that slithered into his sleep periodically, but more recently, it was something sinister, something recurring.

He didn’t know where he’d seen it before, but it was so utterly visceral, vibrant, violent, it felt less like watching a pirated horror movie on his cracked outdated phone, high as a kite, but rather more of experiencing everything in the moment. What did he even see?

Ekko’s brows grimaced as the flashes of horror took over his head again. It was these toxic swirl of neon colors, gasses that consumed him. It was a world where his skin lay unwashed for days on end, a world where dirt stuck unrelentingly underneath your nails. There were mechanisms beyond his comprehension, figures and languages, a circulating, pulsating orb. 

He felt Benzo’s warm hand come to his aid as it gently rubbed his back, “Take your time sport, oh you poor thing. Must’ve gotten a wicked case of food poisoning.”

Ekko wanted to smirk, but he was too busy staring past the molten swirling of his guts, past the ceramic white toilet, past the layers of wood and concrete from the dingy apartment he lived in, and into the dark, trodden cold soil. He had buried her there, long ago, and he had always been adamant on keeping her buried, but the dead always seemed to have a way of coming back to life.

It was Her , it had to be. Where everything else in his dream seemed to be an incomprehensible mix of color and texture, she was the only thing that stayed defined and true. She looked different, the baby fat that everyone teased her about had melted down into a more angular malnourished frame. Dark circles clad under eyes, dragging them down to reveal these sickly, wild pink irses. Her skin, painted in a spiral of colors that pulled her into the madness that surrounded her. Everything felt so unnatural, jarring, but Ekko should expect it by now. He’d been having the same dream for weeks on end.

But it was her voice that forcefully shook him awake,

 “ There’s no good version of me… ”

He wasn’t meant to hear that, but it echoed in his ears all the same.

“Sorry Benzo,” Ekko forced a weak smile as he turned over his shoulder, “I guess that means no more greasy hotdogs, huh?”

Benzo gave a relieved sigh, “And no staying up late, and no running around with that scooter-gang of yours, the ‘Firebugs’-”

“ Firelights ” Ekko corrected, to which Benzo sassily rolled his eyes at, “And we ride skateboards… now we do anyways.” Ekko muttered, remembering without much fondness at how his middle schooler scooter stuck out like a sore thumb amidst the racks of skateboards that clung on kids backs on his first freshman day of highschool. He was a sophomore now, scheduled to take advanced classes, but nothing was more humbling than the day he went from being the biggest fish in a fishbowl to being dumped into the ocean. 

“I’ve been worried about you, you used to be so… out there! You never let anything stop you, but nowadays, you seem so reserved. Y’know, your highshool years don’t last forever, you’ve only got a couple more school days to make connections and have long laughs. Don’t spend your time cooped up in the autoshop, wouldn’t you prefer-”

Ekko didn’t mean it, but his hand was already waving away the suggestion on Benzo’s lips before he knew what he was doing, “I’m… just fine where I am. It’s better tinkering with cogs than dealing with the local idiots who patrol my school, and besides, someone’s gotta take family business right?”

Benzo beamed at him, but Ekko was used the subtle slips in his expression that usually told what he was really masking:

‘ You haven’t been eating much lately, what’s wrong?’

‘Why did you quit your extracirriculars, I thought you loved robotics?’

And of course, the infamous,

‘Ekko… what happened?’

Of course there were always so many people, so many events that Ekko couldn’t hold  a single pointer finger and thumb at, an accusatory gun to blame for this spiral. But he could only imagine who would be standing, grinning, flat chest to the barrel of his finger tip.

Ekko stood up with a ridiculous amount of effort, offering a gentle hand to Benzo to help him up instead, feeling the floor tiles shift with a familiar, comforting weight as he did. “Sorry for waking you up Benzo, it won’t happen again.” Ekko lied warmly.

“No problem Sport, just, if there’s anything you want to… talk about-” Ekko didn’t let him finish that sentence, it was all in the eyes. Rounded, circular, orbs, such an interesting thing, eyes were. If Benzo wore those glasses his doctor kept urging him to get, perhaps he could see into Ekko’s and read his. His life was a vicious cycle, living, daydreaming, sleeping, waking in cold sweat. Morning showers became a regularity, a baptism of renewal to wash away any remnants of the past. Ekko wouldn’t talk, Benzo had much more to worry about, Bills, groceries, the wavering stability of income, and now Ekko too?

As Benzo gave Ekko a comforting look before he left, Ekko gently crashed into the wall, leaning against it for support. It was like taking a swift breath of oxygen he desperately needed. In other circumstances, he’d wish that the wall would absorb him completely, something fake, soft and plush. But tonight, or rather, as Ekko glanced at the gifted watch that constricted his wrist- this morning- he was glad for something else to remind him of stability. He pressed his cheek against it for a second, taking deep breaths through his mouth, before his nose grimanced in disgust. Right, he’d just thrown up.

He sighed as he turned on the tap, taking a moment to wash out his face and to spit out any last remaints of guck from his mouth. He sipped some of the water from his trembling cupped hands, washing his mouth, the cold water would wash him. He patted some of the water on his cheeks, slapping them with a grounding force, cleansing himself, the cold water would clean him. 

But as he looked up, the tap still running, he choked a gasp. It was a flash, his anxious imagination running wild, but he swore he saw her. His eyes darted from himself to a glimpse of blue hair in the corner of his eye. He was wearing white face paint - since when did he do that? - and that infamous girl was giggling behind him, aged and manic as ever. 

He whipped around, spraying the bathroom wall with droplets of water, but as expected there was no one there. Ekko didn’t dare take his darting eyes away from the wall, and his hand fumbled around the faucet before finally shutting it off. It had to be the lack of sleep, it just had to be. He couldn’t be going crazy on the morning of his first day of school.

‘Or maybe I’ve been going crazy all along. ’ he thought, sighing as he buried his face into his towel, his locs of his white hair framing his face. Water could wash, but it couldn’t clean.

The only calming sort of reminder that held Ekko’s feet on the floor was simple enough, and he could build on it as the day went on: “At least she doesn’t go to my school.”

Ekko braved his stomach for one more look into the mirror, once again seeing those flashes of long blue braids dancing in the corner of his vision.

“Jinx.”

“Jinx”

Jinx stared down nervously at her schedule. It was a fresh start.

New school, better classes! New… enviroment, no… friends. 

She tried to stifle the beads of sweat that refused to quit prespirating from her hands, wiping them down on her shirt as she looked over to Vi. This would be harder for her, she practically left behind an established life back in Zaun. And by the way she was chewing on her inner cheek, and glaring at the pristine white “Piltover Highschool”, Jinx could make the stretched assumption that she left behind a wife and kids as well. 

“Jinx” The voice was a nudge now, and she locked eyes with Vi. There was some exasperated tone in her voice, “How can you be looking at me but staring through me, c’mon, we gotta go.”

There was a glare in Vi’s eyes as she gave Jinx a passing look before taking a huffed step forward.

“Now hold on just a second,” Vander’s soft tone always managed to halt her, and she glared up at him from where she stood, sulking, hands deep in her hoodie’s pockets, “That isn’t any way to address your sister Vi, and what about me? Won’t even give your old man a hug? A goodbye? Heck, I’d settle for a casual nod of acknowledgement.”

“I think I deserve a few days to give cold shoulders, don’t you?” Vi spat her words out with strength, but they hit Vander with the force of leaves drifting onto the autumn grass. “Look kid, I know this whole change is hard on you, it’s hard on all of us, but I want you to look forward. This is a fresh start for all of us, now I’m not saying that you should forget everything behind us, but there’s good things up ahead too.”

There was a hesitancy in her steps, some string in her heart that tried dragging her into Vanders arms, but her feet stood stiffly planted.

“I’ll blast my nasty ‘old-man’ music right now if you don’t show signs of life Vi” Vander’s hand reached into his old but trusty truck as his fingers gently hovered over the small volume dial. “No! Wait! I mean-” Vi’s panic settled as Vander pulled his fingers back, “Sorry… for being an ass. I just need some time.”

“We all do,” Vander’s arms tensed, before they relaxed again, shoulders dropping, “I do, Powder does, and you too. And language Miss Violet, you can’t be out here potty-mouthing the first day in.”

Vi couldn’t help but roll her eyes, “It’s highschool, i’m sure even Ji- Powder here will be hearing worse things the second she steps into those halls.”

For a forgiving flashing moment, Vi almost seemed to flicker a pitying glance at her.

“It’s okay Vander, I go by Jinx now.” Her voice was tinny, as her hands found the bead on her braid and she twisted it in her fingers. Vander was right, there was only the future to look forward to, and that meant…

Jinx took a forceful breath, “New beginnings, isn’t that right? I'll start new here. We all will.”

‘ We ” was such a generalizing term, but even Vi halted her own tongue from correcting Jinx. It seemed like a blessing from a beyond this world when Vander had plopped that crinkled acceptance letter to Piltover Academy on the bar counter, and lightning stuck the same spot twice when Vander was able to secure a hole-in-the-wall shop to expand “The Last Drop” on the upside of town. The fates had handed her a single, one-way ticket out of hell, a bucket of paint to slather over that little girl who made too many mistakes. 

Vander sighed, a deep rumble that could shakethe very ground they stood on, “I better head off now, get a head start on prepping the bar. I’ll pick you girls up after, okay? Give it a chance.”

Vi, hands trembling, gave Vander a casual nod of acknowledgement before she slugged her way towards the door, leaving Jinx to scramble behind her. Jinx gave him a small wave, feeling the tug of her legs to rush back and hug him, but even Vander wouldn’t be able to peel her off of him. Every step away made her realize how cold the autumn air could get, how her clothes stuck to her in a ridiculous unflattering way. She would do anything to have Vander walk her all the way in, but reputation was on the line. She couldn’t mess that up again. ‘ Dumb, clingy, bitch.’ she sourly thought as she toed the edge of the entrance, ‘I can do this. All it takes is a step… just a-’

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, Jinx didn’t need her own willpower to cross that great intimidating doorway. It took two senior boys to stumble into her with a tremendous crash to toss her into the school. Jinx hit the ground, hard.

In a whirl, almost instinct by this point, she whipped around defensively, black boots kicking herself backwards. In Zaun, being knocked off your feet wasn’t just a jab to some momentary embarrassment, it stuck to you like an unrelenting glue, sticky and stinky, it reeked of weakness. 

‘So much for new fucking beginnings,’ She huffed as her eyes darted to the mass of writhing bodies she’d managed to escape, ‘ Not even a second into the school day, god. I can hear it already, the teasing, and they’ll always start with the hair, I can JUST HEAR IT-’

“Oh my god, are you okay?” The voice, panicked, stumbled to their feet and offered a hand to Jinx. She stared at it blankly for a moment, before her nose and eyes crinkled in caution. It was odd to see such a big and warm hand, completely manicured, without a scratch in sight. Vander would never think to upkeep his own hands to such a degree, and yet the palm that sat behind a set of gentle fingers seemed so earnestly well-kept and honest. Jinx’s defensive scowl faded as she looked up.

“Jayce. You absolute buffoon.” A soft voice harshly muttered from behind Jayce’s outstretched hand, followed by a dull thunk of a cane on the cold marble floor, “In what world do you manage to topple over your own feet, and why must it be this world?” Jinx curioursly tilted her head past Jayce to search for the soft voice, curled with an undescriptable accent. “What are you waiting for? Help that poor girl up!”

Jayce, defending his honor, whipped back at his friend, “This wouldn’t have happened if you’d just let me peek at the manu-”

“Jayce. The girl.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Once you’re finished whining, help me up too, won’t you?”

As Jinx’s own hand met with Jayce, she was yanked up with a startling force. Jayce air wiped off dust and patted her shoulder, “Good as new.” He turned to help the wiry figure behind him, and Jinx heard the brace before she saw it. It had an unbearable creak, and as Jinx peered over Jayce’s side, she saw the major dent along the side of it. Yikes.

“I must apologize for my… friend’s inability to walk like a normal person.” The boy’s cane subtly tapped the ground as he heaved himself towards Jinx. She swore she saw the most vicious glare from Jayce at the brace and cane that supported his weight. Ah, such irony.

“It’s fine.” She grumbled, eyes darting down. How anyone could ever look into other’s eyes was a skill she had yet to master. There was always too much in eyes, emotions, secrets, an intimidation that left her wilting under glares and gazes.

“You are new here, no?” He asked, “I’ve never seen anyone with such vibrant hair before.” 

“And what about it?” Jinx snapped quickly, Piltover was no different than Zaun after all. At least snotty Zaunites got straight to the point, dumb Pilties just happened to chatter with small talk before they would strangle her with a barrade of unrelenting comments. Despite her best efforts to puff out a chest she did not have, she felt her shoulders cave into themselves as she skittered back slightly.

“You must be from Zaun, right?”

“So?”

“I’d never thought I’d see the day where I’d meet another one from the Undercity.”

“Yeah? And where’s that other zauny?” Jinx scowled up at him like a threatened cat, her hair practically standing on its end as she noticed a slight crowd beginning to form around the unfortunate incident, “If you’re going to go through that old ‘ Point and Laugh at the New Kid! ’ routine, I’d suggest you get it over with. People have classes to get to, yeah?” 

She hated that sickening gutteral sigh her voice had, it seemed to just reinforce how her presence between the monamous hallways of Piltover Academy was nothing if not similar to an inappropriate sigil painted between the sacred walls of a pristine church. 

“That other ‘zauny’, stands, as best as he can anyways, right here.” He offered a hand, “I’m Viktor, and you?”

“You’re from the Undercity?” Jinx felt a guilty mix in the pit of her stomach, her harsh words boiled down to shame from her sharp tone. Viktor’s only semblance to the rat ridden alleys of Zaun was a delicate frame hidden under the carefully assembled outfit of jacket, vest, and tie. He looked like a drowned rat with freshly cleaned hair and pressed suit, and yet he assimilated into the crowd of piltover highschoolers with a grace Jinx could only be jealous of.

“Born and raised, though, a scholarship and a ridiculous amount of hard work did allow me to drag myself into the academy.” 

Jinx barely remembered to apologise, as best as she could anyways, “I’m.. Jinx. Sorry about the defensiveness, old habits-”

“-die hard? It’s for good reason, especially for the environments we all grow in.” They both flinched at the sudden blare of the warning bell that came from the speakers above them. Jinx could only marvel at how crystal clear the system sounded, not clogged by the mismatch of wires from her old school. As quickly as the sparse crowd came, it dispersed as whispers faded into panicked rush of bags, lockers, and feet.

“Do you need help finding classes?” Viktor asked as he spun on his heel and began limping off down the hall, a leather bound bag strapped across his body and rested on his good hip. Jayce threw her an apologetical look as he fell into step behind Viktor, and Jinx realized the sudden emptiness of the sheet of paper in her hands. She spun around, eyes chasing after the clear white floor, unable to hunt down her schedule.

“The whole place can be a maze, and besides, no one wants to be late on their first day, come with us!” Jayce beckoned her over, and as the halls grew more desolate, Jinx bit her tongue in frustration at her lack of luck in her dwindling options. It was an odd sight, like a large puppy gladly trailing after a refined and regal cat with a limp in its paw.

“Yeah, sure, fine.” She made sure that there was a reasonable gap between the pair and her before she lurked behind them. 

“What’s your first class?” Viktor asked, hobbling at a surprisingly swift pace.

“I don’t know, physics something, I forgot the room number.” She mumbled.

“Advanced Placement?”

“Duh, what do you think I am?”

“As expected.” He and Jayce shared a glance, and again, the eyes. It spoke of a lingering joke, established long ago that occasionally brought them to reminisce over a fond memory.

“What does that mean?” 

“Who’s your teacher?” Viktor ignored her previous statement.

“Hamburger, or was it Heisenburg- no wait, Heimerdinger.” Jinx bit her lip and chewed on it nervously.

Jinx darted her gaze down again when Viktor looked back at her with a newfound curiosity, “That’s our class. It’s notoriously difficult… How did you find the placement exam?”

Jinx blew her bangs from her face, a growing sense of pride puffing her chest, “Pfft, easy. I’d hardly call it a test. I could do it upside down, inside out, even asleep.”

They suddenly all halted at a closed door, “Ego is the death of all men, you know.” It was barely a passing second, but Jinx met Viktor’s eyes, who studied her with a piercing gaze. She hadn’t noticed before, but they were as vibrant as the strands of her own hair, except they were gold, metallic and held an intriguing amount of depth.

“Good thing I’m not a man then.” Jinx swiftly walked past them and tried the door, and it opened with ease from under her. As it swung widely, without even a hint of a creak or rusted hinges, Jinx hesitated at the door, toeing the edge of the entrance.

“Do you need me to have Jayce topple onto you again to get you through that door?” Viktor asked, teasingly.

“Shut up.” The other two grumbled. 

Choices and options, Options and Choices. Jinx hid the tremors in her hand, which must’ve just been nerves, the pressure of the two boys waiting their turn to announce their tardiness, growing by the second. Jinx couldn’t help but hesitate. 

Despite every straight, and crystal clear path that was laid for her, she always had to double check, eyes cautiously picking up on every detail, her nose picking up the subtle lack of deodorant, and the overwhelming use of perfumes that radiated from every student. This was highschool, wasn’t it?

Jinx was capable, enough at least. She could do this.

She had to. There rarely was any choice in any of her actions. That was some unfortunate consequence learned long ago.

With gritted teeth, she stepped through the door.

It was all Viktor’s fault. Usually, Jayce could manage to run on the fumes of day-old coffee and smiles to pull him out of the consequences of his own actions, but this time, it was totally, and utterly, Viktor’s fault. 

The natural routine the two shared hadn’t changed since their junior year. Jayce would wake before the rest of his family and sneak some countertable fruit for breakfast after he put on his crisply polished shirt and cargos. His car would considerately pull out of the family driveway with smooth silence. It was the second best part of his day, a drive filled with silence, interrupted by the peak of the glowing sun over the horizon, gold and rich, but it was nothing compared to the best part of his day.

Pulling up to Viktor’s apartment building, where the boy was patiently waiting along the curb, often with cups of coffee in hand, or manuscripts under a free arm, could never be bested by any other human experience. Jayce had sworn on it. 

The ride to school would be filled with chatter about recent breakthroughs, excitement from solving a problem they had pored over the night before, a relentless cloud of banter that hopped between them like jittery machinery. 

This year, Viktor had managed to secure the position as captain of the robotics team, which was short for saying that the team was about to push Piltover Academy to the crowning title of the annual robotics championship. They had come just shy of first place last year, and Jayce, though he would never tell Viktor, had suspicions of foul play when he had chased out a gang from the school lab once. It had to be a rivaling school, they looked utterly ridiculous as they had jumped on their rundown skateboards and sailed off into the distance. 

“So Captain, what’s the plan with your cult of eager robotics nerds this year?” Jayce had asked Viktor, who was scratching something into a thick roll of paper. This stupid manuscript had kept Viktor half-alive the whole summer, he’d been adamant on perfecting every detail of it. He’d exhaust himself to the point where when Jayce invited himself unannounced into Viktor’s student apartment, he’d often be drooling on his desk, stomach rumbling in his sleep, and it’d be midday in the middle of a sweltering july. He became a personal cook, cleaner, and confidant as he swept after Viktor’s pacing. Jayce could put ‘Personal Servant’ on his resume by this point, along with the expanding list of achievements he’d grown throughout his highschool career. 

“Over-qualified.” Viktor would tsk whenever Jayce brought home another medal, or aced exam home to pin on his wall, “A bit egotistical to… pin every medal you’ve won on your wall, don’t you think? I’m starting to pity the plaster and that cheap cardboard shelf at this point, it’s not meant to support the utter weight of your dwindling intelligence and swelling ego.”

“Aren’t you the same?” Jayce would reply, nodding a head to the collection of plastic and cement weighted trophies that collected dust in the corner of Viktor’s closet. 

“In achievements? Yes. In Self-Concietedness? I couldn’t imagine.”

Where Viktor lacked in vain qualities, he excelled in being absolutely compulsive when it came to expanding his library of knowledge. This summer mainly consisted of Jayce assisting Viktor to a research he had no idea about. Where did Viktor's obsessiveness come from? Jayce had made an blatantly obvious correlation to his family heirloom he’d shown Viktor once. The gem fastened to the band of his bracelet was smooth as glass, and that was all Jayce ever assumed it was: glass. After all, when was his middle class family able to throw away their whole life savings on a gem? However, judging from the apparatus of Viktor’s excessive testing on his bracelet, there had to be more to it, otherwise it would be the most complicated and time wasting joke Viktor had ever pulled. 

As Jayce pulled into the school parking lot, the sun was now in full throttle as it beat down on the cement, baking the metal car. He sighed looking at the empty gap on his arm. What once held a defined bar of pale skin that wrapped around his wrist, had faded out to appreciate the sun’s warmth, a tan fading out where his bracelet once sat. Viktor had basically ‘borrowed’ it for the entire summer.

“C’mon, can’t you at least let me peek at the manuscripts?” Jayce tried his best puppy dog eyes on Viktor, who as usual, pretended Jayce was just the whistling of autumn air. 

“Paitience, you’ll see it during Robotics later this week, and besides, I’m not finished yet.”

“Not finished? You’ve been working on the goddamn thing since june! Viktor, I’m not one to bedazzle myself-”

“Obviously,” Viktor muttered as his eyes darted up and down the same reiteration of clothes Jayce wore. When VIktor had introduced him to different color schemes, Jayce’s brain nearly imploded, though it just meant he wore the same style of pants in three alternating colors.

“-but I’d appreciate if you’d give me back my bracelet! Does ‘Familly Heirloom’ ring a bell?”

“Your mother would still kiss your forehead goodnight with or without it, trust me. If your parents were planning to disown you Jayce, they wouldn’t need a silly reason like losing a bracelet to do it already.”

The hobble to school was relatively peaceful, though rudely interrupted by the sputter and grumble of a truck pulling out from the curb as Viktor coughed at the exhaust expelled from it. 

“Karma.” Jayce grumbled as he eyed the manuscript hung precariously under Viktor’s arm, “Need help carrying anything?”

“I think I will suffice.” 

“You look half-dead as per usual, and you’re barely keeping all your gadgets on you in an orderly fashion, c’mon, let me lend a hand.”

Jayce’s hand reached for the roll of paper, but recoiled the instant Viktor swung his cane in a grand arc, effectively thwarting him off.

“I’m not some imbecile Jayce, and neither are you. If you still have half a mind of any intelligence left in your brain, I suggest you use it. I don’t make exceptions, you’ll wait like anyone else to see it.”

“You almost hit me!”

“Ah, but I didn’t. ‘Almost’ being the key word here.”

“One day I will meet your mother and give her my condolences for squeezing out a baby boy with such ‘wit and charm’. You’re real fun at parties.”

“I don’t go to parties Jayce, you know this.”

“You- oh shut up, you know what I mean. Can’t you let me see it?”

“No.”

“But why?”

“Because I said so.” Viktor glared at him as he climbed the stairs with a determined pace. Stairs, what a weakness. Jayce, on any other occasion, could be courteous and assist Viktor up as he always did, but like Viktor, he tunnel-visioned on his goals. A quick hand snatched the manuscript just as Viktor reached the top of the stairs, and Jayce took off running towards the entrance.

There was only ever a few times Jayce had ever remembered seeing Viktor upset, genuinely upset. It consisted of a short list of pets who died in movies, a late night where Viktor had mistaken a half a jar of vodka for water (or so Jayce was told) after he was convinced he had flunked an exam, and the first time Jayce had inquired too deeply about Viktor’s summer project.

Today added to that list. 

Fuming, Viktor called after Jayce as he waved the manuscript in his hand proudly. But proud men find similarity in being deaf men, and Jayce continued to fumble backwards, his eyes never leaving Viktor as he finally catched up to him.

“Jayce. Do not even think about opening that.” Viktor hissed through gritted teeth as he came within arm’s length again.

Jayce’s only response was to firmly press a pointer and thumb together as he began to slowly pull it apart-

He barely dropped a hand to defend himself from the raging swing of Viktor’s cane. As his hand grasped around it, as he stumbled back, the other hand unable to find stable ground. Jayce’s mind went blank as it crashed into someone behind him, pulling Viktor down with him with a tremendous CRASH !

As Jayce said, it was Viktor’s fault.