Empty Spaces
The stack of papers in front of Jayce seemed to grow larger every time he blinked. Trade logs, proposals, security reports—words blurred together in neat rows, all demanding his attention.
He sighed, leaning back in his chair and running a hand through his hair. He had to focus, to push through the pile of work. But his gaze drifted to the tall ceiling, his thoughts slipping back to the feeling he’d been trying to bury for days: guilt.
He exhaled sharply, shaking his head as if that could dispel it. No use thinking about Heimerdinger now. What was done was done.
Jayce leaned forward again, staring at the documents in front of him. It wasn’t just the work itself that overwhelmed him, it was the weight of it. Every signature, every approval felt like another thread tying him tighter to the council, pulling him further from who he used to be.
And that scared him. It wasn’t the thrill of discovery or the rush of inspiration he felt when charting new paths in his research. This was something else—something heavier, suffocating.
When they had first offered him a seat on the council, the feeling that had settled in his chest hadn’t been pride—it had been terror. Later, he’d felt a flicker of flattery. He couldn’t help it. To think someone like him—a member of a minor house—would be deemed worthy of such an important role.
The responsibility, the expectations, leaving behind his research and Viktor—it had all seemed inconceivable. But when he stopped to think about it, he couldn’t turn it down. The opportunity was too great, too important. So, he’d convinced himself it was the right choice. Being on the council would help him and Viktor get the support they needed to bring their vision of progress to life.
At first, it had. But lately, he’d started to feel like a stranger in his own skin. When he looked at his reflection, the man staring back at him wasn’t the same one who had fought so fiercely to bring magic— Hextech—to Piltover.
The Man of Progress.Councilor Talis. Those titles had an intoxicating power to them. For the first time in his life, Jayce felt important. He hadn’t realized how deeply he’d craved that feeling until it was given to him, and now, he wasn’t sure he wanted to let it go.
His gaze shifted to one of the reports, his brow furrowing as he scanned the details. Security concerns in the undercity. Alleged gang activity. Another attack.
The undercity was spiraling further into chaos, and Jayce couldn’t help but feel that the council’s concerns were justified. The people down there were desperate, reckless, dangerous. Piltover had to act. That was his main concern lately—restoring some semblance of order.
Jayce didn’t see these new orders as excessive. He saw it as control, stability, something necessary—for the good of Piltover. It was hard to argue when the reports piled up, each one justifying further action. Marcus had recently found proof that implicated an undercity gang called the Firelights in one of the latest attacks.
Even Jayce had been impressed—if that was the right word—by the ingenuity of the contraption Marcus found after the attack. An explosive with intricate mechanisms he had struggled to dismantle himself before abandoning the task entirely, afraid it might detonate in his hands. That alone had been enough to justify ordering a blockade at the bridge connecting Piltover to the undercity.
Maybe I can show it to Viktor, he murmured to himself, thinking of the explosive. He might have better luck taking it apart than me.
The clock on his desk caught his eye, and he groaned as he realized the time. He was late. Mel had asked him to attend the theatre again tonight, to continue exploring some deals she’d been arranging.
Jayce stood, smoothing the creases in his clothes as he glanced at the stack of unfinished documents. He would have to return to them later.
As he entered the lab to leave some blueprints there, he noticed how quiet it was.
Too quiet.
Jayce glanced around, his eyes automatically searching for Viktor’s hunched figure. The workstation was as cluttered as ever with papers scattered across it—but no Viktor. Jayce frowned. At this time of day, Viktor was usually here. Where could he have gone?
“Probably chasing another lead,” Jayce muttered, brushing the thought aside as he crossed the room to leave the stack of blueprints. He turned to leave but hesitated briefly, glancing at the empty chair by the Hexcore. A faint unease prickled at the back of his mind, but he quickly dismissed it as he remembered that he was running late.
After they finally said their goodbyes to Councilor Hoskel, Jayce felt the knot in his throat loosen, the tension in his shoulders easing with it.
Keeping up appearances, knowing exactly what to say and when to say it—it was a different kind of effort, one he found harder by the day. It drained him more than the hours he used to spend hammering away at the forge.
Beside him, Mel let out a soft, amused laugh. “You have to be careful,” she teased lightly. “Sometimes your face says too much, you know?”
“Sorry,” Jayce muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to focus his tired, blurry vision. “It’s been a long day.”
“I’m sure it has,” she said as she opened the door to the quiet street outside. “You’ve been implementing a lot of changes lately. Quite impressive, I must say, Councilor.”
Jayce laughed—not because he found anything funny, but because the silence between them felt heavier than it should have.
Mel arched a brow, her expression unreadable for a moment before softening into a knowing smile. She stepped closer and looped her arm through his. “Come with me,” she said, her voice light but insistent. “Let’s eat something. It’ll help you feel better.”
Jayce blinked, suddenly aware of the gnawing emptiness in his stomach. When had he last eaten? He couldn’t remember.
As they walked through the dimly lit streets, Mel talked, her voice smooth and steady as it filled the silence. She spoke about council matters, trade routes, and anecdotes that Jayce barely registered. He was grateful for her steady stream of words, though—it kept him awake without demanding any response.
He nodded occasionally, murmuring agreements where it seemed appropriate, but his thoughts were distant.
She made it all seem so effortless—these meetings, these deals, the weight of her position. Even now, as she walked beside him in casual conversation, she carried herself with the kind of grace and poise he could never hope to come close to emulating.
It was hard not to admire her, he admitted to himself. Her confidence, her charm. It wasn’t just that she was beautiful—though that was undeniable—it was the way she made him feel seen.
Jayce couldn’t help but find it exciting, this new world of attention she’d introduced him to. He wasn’t used to it—any of it. For so long, his life had revolved around his research, his relentless drive to make Hextech a reality. Relationships—romantic or otherwise—had always taken a back seat.
But Mel... Mel was something else. She had a way of drawing him in. It was thrilling, intoxicating even, and he was still trying to figure out what to do with that feeling.
They arrived at a small, quiet restaurant where the staff greeted Mel warmly, leading them to a private table in the back. The food was light and simple, but Jayce found it far more satisfying than the extravagant dinners he’d endured over the past few days with Piltover’s elite.
For the first time that evening, Jayce felt his shoulders relax as their conversation drifted to the progress of Hextech and smaller, inconsequential topics.
As he leaned back in his chair, Jayce let out a quiet breath. The tension of the day seemed to melt away, replaced by a rare moment of calm.
“Thanks, Mel,” he said, his voice soft. “I needed this.”
She smiled in return, her eyes warm. “You’re welcome. Even geniuses need to eat, you know.”
They shared a quiet laugh, but before the conversation could drift further, Elora entered the room. She leaned close to Mel, whispering something Jayce couldn’t make out.
For the briefest of moments, something flickered across Mel’s face—an expression Jayce couldn’t quite place. It vanished as quickly as it appeared, leaving behind her usual composure.
“Sorry, Jayce,” Mel said as she stood, smoothing her dress with practiced ease. “I have to go. Something urgent just came up.”
Jayce nodded, brushing it off even as he wondered about the flicker he’d seen. “It’s fine. I should probably get some sleep anyway.”
Mel gave him one last smile, warm but faintly distant, before turning to leave. Elora offered a brief nod in farewell and followed closely behind.
Jayce remained seated for a moment, the quiet settling around him. He stared down at his empty plate, his thoughts swirling as he tried to push past the weight of his exhaustion.
He decided to stop by the lab on his way home. He needed to grab some paperwork to review over breakfast so he wouldn’t have to wake up as early tomorrow to fetch them.
As he walked through the streets, his thoughts turned to Viktor. “I should check on him,” he muttered to himself. “If I’ve forgotten to eat, he’s probably worse.” A faint smile tugged at his lips as he remembered all the times he’d had to drag Viktor away from his work to get something to eat—or the countless lunches he’d brought him because Viktor would forget to take care of himself when he was engrossed in something.
He arrived at the lab, opened the door, and stepped inside, expecting to see Viktor’s familiar figure in his usual spot. Instead, the lab was once again empty.
Everything was exactly as he’d left it earlier. The faint hum of the Hexcore filled the room, but Viktor’s chair sat empty, and there was no sign of him anywhere.
Jayce frowned, a prickle of unease working its way up his spine. Viktor practically lived here; even when he left, he usually left a note or let someone—Sky, at the very least—know where he’d gone. This… this wasn’t like him.
“Did he pass out somewhere again?” Jayce muttered under his breath. His mind flashed back to the hospital—Viktor’s pale face illuminated by the soft glow of the bedside lamp—and the image hit him harder than he expected.
He stepped further into the room, scanning for any sign of Viktor—or at least a clue about where he might have gone. But the silence pressed in, offering nothing.
Jayce stood there for a moment longer, his unease growing heavier until it coiled into something he couldn’t ignore. Finally, he turned and left, his steps quickening as he made his way toward Viktor’s apartment.
Maybe he decided to stay home and rest, Jayce told himself, trying to smother the creeping worry. Surely he’s there, and everything’s fine.