Unexpected Meetings
Viktor opened his eyes slowly, his senses sluggish. His vision swam for a moment before settling into soft light and muted colors. I don’t recognize this ceiling, he thought, disoriented.
Every part of his body ached, sharper and more persistent than usual. This wasn’t the familiar pain he’d learned to endure, it was as though every ounce of energy had been wrung from him, leaving his body hollowed out and raw with discomfort.
Blinking against the dim light filtering into the room, he tried to make sense of his surroundings. The air was cool and still, and by the pale sunlight seeping through, it seemed to be morning.
He attempted to move, but his limbs resisted, heavy as lead. A frustrated huff escaped his lips as he mustered what strength he could, forcing himself into a sitting position. The movement sent a jolt of pain through his abdomen, and he froze for a moment, breathing through the sharp discomfort.
Gradually, the room around him came into focus. His makeshift bed was tucked into a corner, the thin blanket slipping halfway off as he adjusted his position. He squinted, taking in the unfamiliar setting.
The room wasn’t large, but it didn’t feel cramped. The walls were lined with shelves overflowing with gadgets, tools, and peculiar knickknacks. A magnifying glass attached to a mechanical arm rested on one of the workbenches, and scattered across the surfaces were tiny contraptions, some gears… It seemed like a workshop of sorts.
The air smelled faintly of paint and wood, mingling with the earthy scent of fresh leaves. He shifted his gaze to a nearby window, where sunlight filtered through what seemed to be the canopy of a massive tree.
I don’t recognize this place… where am I? His thoughts stumbled over themselves, rattled and struggling to catch up.
He noticed how the room, though cluttered, had a sense of purpose. Nothing seemed out of place once you looked closely. It reminded him, faintly, of his own quarters.
Viktor shifted, trying to push himself upright. Pain flared in his abdomen and he sucked in a breath through clenched teeth as the memory of the attack crashed into him: the figures, the knife, the cold ground.
He glanced down to examine the wound and found fresh bandages wrapped around his abdomen and shoulder. Lifting a hand to his temple, he touched a gauze dressing that covered the spot where he’d been struck.
Whoever had brought him here hadn’t just rescued him—they’d taken the time to treat his wounds with care.
Still, Viktor’s mind raced with questions. Who? Where am I? How much time has passed?
The room itself provided few answers. A nearby table caught his eye, holding what looked like the beginnings of a hoverboard, its mechanical parts exposed in mid-repair. Around it were more tools, a few scraps of metal, and a small stack of well-worn books.
He shifted his legs to the edge of the bed, his hands gripping the frame for support as he tried to stand. He glanced around the room for his crutch, but it was nowhere in sight. A faint memory surfaced—his attackers tearing it from his grasp.
He exhaled sharply, frustration bubbling up inside him. It wasn’t just the absence of it; it was the reminder of how helpless he felt in moments like this.
Viktor pressed his hand against the side table for balance, his grip unsteady as he pulled himself upright. But, of course, his strength faltered, and his hand slipped. The table tipped over with a loud crash, the sound of shattering resonating as a cup of water he hadn’t noticed splintered across the floor.
Pain shot through his side as he landed on the wooden floor with a heavy thud. He winced, struggling to get up, his movements slow and stiff as he tried not to fall onto the shards of glass nearby.
Just as he managed to steady himself, the creak of a door opening caught his attention. Multiple sets of footsteps approached quickly, growing louder as they entered the room. Viktor froze, his pulse quickening.
“Hey, you shouldn’t be moving yet!” a young man’s voice said, just as Viktor felt hands helping him up from the floor. “You okay?”
Viktor blinked, still disoriented, as he looked up at the speaker. The man was younger, his white hair stark against his dark brown skin. His face radiated kindness, but there was a strength and confidence in the way he carried himself. Behind him stood a larger figure—a tall, muscular Vastaya—watching silently. The Vastaya’s eyes weren’t distrustful, but they regarded Viktor carefully, as if assessing him.
After a moment, the taller man stepped forward, wordlessly picking up the shards of broken glass from the floor. He threw a quick glance at the younger man, then turned and left the room without a word.
Viktor reluctantly accepted the help back onto the bed, his body hurting with every movement.
“I hope your injury didn’t reopen,” the younger man said as he stepped back to check Viktor over. “It wasn’t too deep, but it could’ve been bad if Scar hadn’t found you.” His gaze was direct, meeting Viktor’s without hesitation. To Viktor’s surprise, there was no pity or aversion in his expression—just honest concern.
“Thank you for helping me,” Viktor said, startled by how hoarse his voice sounded. He coughed lightly and continued, “I’m usually more careful when I come, but I was distracted and, well…”
The other man stood, moving to a nearby table. He poured a fresh glass of water and handed it to Viktor with a smile. “Technically, I wasn’t the one who helped you, but I’ll let him know. Scar might seem unfriendly, but he’s just cautious about strangers coming here.”
Viktor nodded, filing the name away. Scar. He mentally noted to thank the man personally for intervening. The man hadn’t been obligated to help, and it sounded like doing so might have even been risky for them.
After taking a careful sip from the glass, Viktor placed it back on the side table. He looked up at the younger man, his curiosity winning over his exhaustion. “I suppose I should introduce myself. My name is Viktor. And you are…? May I also ask where exactly I am?”
The young man hesitated only briefly before offering a hand. “I’m Ekko,” he said, his expression warm and open. “As for where you are… Well, as you’ve probably guessed, I can’t give you the exact location. But don’t worry—you’re in a safe place.”
Viktor had expected this answer, but it still left him feeling uneasy. He decided to press further. “Would it be possible for someone to take me to where I was found? I won’t speak of anything—”
His words quickened, his tone edging toward distress, but before he could finish, he was interrupted by the sound of hurried steps. Viktor froze, recognizing the distinct rhythm of the footsteps immediately.
“Viktor! Glad to see you’ve woken up. How are you feeling, my boy?”
Viktor’s head whipped toward the door, and his eyes widened as Heimerdinger entered the room, his small frame bouncing with energy.
“Professor?” Viktor said, stunned. His mind struggled to comprehend the scene. How is he here? Overwhelmed, he touched his forehead, feeling lightheaded. “Maybe I’m hallucinating,” he muttered.
“Hey, careful!” Ekko exclaimed, moving quickly to steady Viktor as he swayed. He gently eased Viktor back onto the bed.
“Oh dear,” Heimerdinger said, his bright blue eyes wide with worry. “Don’t get yourself worked up, Viktor. You should be resting!”
Ekko frowned, his voice tinged with frustration as he addressed the Yordle. “Heimer, couldn’t you have waited a moment until I called you? He just woke up in an unfamiliar place surrounded by strangers—give him a moment.”
Heimerdinger tilted his head, his expression confused, as though the idea hadn’t occurred to him.
“No, I’m fine,” Viktor said, his voice steadier now. “I just… how are you here, Professor?”
Heimerdinger’s cheerful demeanor shifted, his gaze lowering briefly before he looked back at Viktor. “Well,” he began, his voice quieter, “after my… retirement, I wasn’t sure where to go. I met Ekko by chance, and after we talked, he brought me here. A kind young man.” he said, nodding toward Ekko.
Viktor felt a jolt, his mind suddenly more alert as he latched onto one word. “Retirement?” he repeated, his heartbeat quickening.
Heimerdinger seemed surprised by the question. “You didn’t know?”
“No,” Viktor said firmly, sitting upright despite the ache in his body. “What do you mean by retirement?”
Heimerdinger hesitated, his ears drooping slightly. “The council decided it was time for me to step down,” he said.
Viktor’s chest tightened. “Why didn’t Jayce say anything to me?” he muttered, more to himself than to the others. “Maybe he felt bad for not being able to stop it, even though he’s on the council now…”
Heimerdinger stiffened, and Viktor felt a cold chill creep through his veins. “Professor?” he asked, his voice trembling.
“It was Jayce who suggested it,” Heimerdinger said gently. “I… I thought he had told you. I thought you’d both agreed to it. That’s why I didn’t come to say goodbye—I felt… odd, after how it all happened.”
The words hit Viktor harder than any physical blow. “I didn’t know!” he said, his voice rising. “It’s true we had a disagreement last time we spoke, but I wouldn’t have—” He broke off, burying his face in his hands. “I didn’t know,” he repeated softly, anger and sadness rising inside him.
Ekko clapped his hands suddenly, cutting through the tension. “Okay, look, I get that things are complicated between you two, but right now, you need to focus on eating something and resting. You can continue to talk this out later once you’re better.”
Ekko moved toward the door, glancing back over his shoulder. “You’ve been through a lot. Rest first, then worry about everything else.”
Heimerdinger, looking slightly apologetic, climbed into a nearby chair. “Indeed,” he said softly. “You’re not alone, my boy. Rest, I’ll stay to keep you company.”
Viktor hesitated, still reeling from the earlier revelation. He remained staring at the ceiling, trying to untangle the storm of thoughts swirling in his mind.
After some time, he reached for the plate Ekko had left by his side. The food was still warm, though he barely tasted it as he began eating. The silence stretched between them until Viktor finally broke it, his voice quieter now.
“Why did you agree to leave, Professor? You could have… I don’t know, complained, asked someone for help.”
Heimerdinger looked away, his small hands tightly clutched. “At the time, I didn’t think I had much choice. Jayce wasn’t entirely wrong about some of the things he said during that meeting. I was so focused on preventing disasters from the past that I failed to see the problems of the present.”
He paused, his expression wistful. “I suppose that’s one of the problems with being… practically immortal. You could say I lacked perspective—a more human one, at least.”
His eyes softened as he glanced at Viktor. “I underestimated how quickly the disparity between Piltover and the undercity was growing—and the consequences of leaving it unaddressed. I didn’t truly realize how bad it had gotten until I saw it for myself.”
Viktor’s fork paused mid-air. He felt a pang of guilt for the thoughts crossing his mind, but they were true: while Heimerdinger was merciful and never acted with ill intentions, his privilege and ignorance often left him blind to the harsh realities others faced. As much as Viktor admired him and his idealism, he had long felt his mentor’s lack of perspective, as he put it, made him ill-suited as a leader.
“Ekko has shown me things,” Heimerdinger continued, his voice quieter. “People starving, whole communities crumbling under the weight of shimmer and the Chem-Barons’ influence.” He shook his head, his ears drooping slightly. “I’ve always believed progress should be slow, deliberate. But now… I wonder if my excessively cautious views allowed this suffering to fester unchecked.”
Viktor swallowed hard, setting his fork down. The professor’s words mirrored his own thoughts—the undercity had always been in decline, but its condition now was far worse than even what Viktor remembered from his childhood.
Heimerdinger sighed, his ears drooping slightly. “Still, stepping down wasn’t easy. I thought I was doing the right thing. But now? I’m not so sure.”
For a moment, Viktor wasn’t sure how to respond. The vulnerability in Heimerdinger’s voice was unlike anything he’d ever heard from his mentor before. He set his plate aside, resting his hands in his lap.
“You’re here now,” Viktor said softly. “And maybe that’s enough. Now you can help the people you didn’t see before.”
Heimerdinger blinked, his ears perking slightly at Viktor’s words. “Perhaps,” he murmured. “Perhaps you’re right, my boy.”
Later, after Heimerdinger left, Viktor quickly fell asleep, his exhaustion catching up to him. When he woke, the space was empty, and the light filtering through the window suggested it was late afternoon. Though his body still ached, the noise of his thoughts made staying in bed unbearable.
The air outside was cool as he exited the room. Viktor stepped carefully, leaning on a makeshift crutch that had been left near the bed. The massive tree above stretched overhead, its canopy casting shifting patterns of light as tiny lanterns spread throughout the branches illuminated the area.
Faint murmurs of conversation and activity filled the air. Children darted between adults sitting in small groups, their laughter mingling with quiet voices. It was a peaceful sight, far removed from the harsh reality of the undercity Viktor was used to. Yet, he liked it—this place felt closer to the dream he had always envisioned.
As he walked, Viktor noticed a figure watching him from a distance. The tall Vastaya from earlier—Scar, Ekko had called him—stood leaning against a railing, arms crossed as his sharp green eyes tracked Viktor’s every move.
Viktor hesitated, then approached slowly. “I suppose you’re making sure I’m not a danger to anyone,” Viktor said, attempting a light-hearted tone.
Scar didn’t respond immediately, his gaze steady. Finally, he spoke, his voice deep and measured. “You’re not the first outsider we’ve helped. Some have repaid us by putting us at risk.”
Viktor nodded. “I understand your caution. I… owe you thanks. Without your help, I doubt things would’ve ended well for me.”
Scar’s expression softened slightly, though his posture remained guarded. “Ekko seems to trust you. And Heimerdinger’s opinion of you is good, too. That’s why you’re here.” He straightened slightly, his sharp eyes narrowing. “But trust isn’t given. It is earned.”
Viktor looked up at the tree’s sprawling branches, the lanterns casting a warm glow. “If there’s anything I can do to help while I’m here, I’d like to. I may not look like much, but I have skills that might be useful.”
Scar raised an eyebrow, still skeptical.
Viktor met his gaze, a faint spark of determination lighting his tired eyes. “Your hoverboards,” he said, “I saw one in the room. They’re remarkable, but I noticed the power cells you’re using—those types tend to wear out quickly under repeated strain. I might be able to help improve them.”
Scar tilted his head, intrigued despite himself.
“I don’t know how long I’ll be here, but… if you’ll let me, I’d like to contribute. It’s the least I can do in return.”
For the first time, Scar’s lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile. “We’ll see,” he said, pushing off the railing.
“Come by Ekko’s workshop later. He’ll appreciate having another inventor buddy.”
“Sure. I was starting to grow tired of all the bed rest,” Viktor said with a soft chuckle, though the movement sent a sharp ache through his side.
As he walked, Viktor’s gaze drifted to the massive mural painted across a nearby wall. Its vibrant colors would have seemed almost out of place in the undercity he remembered, but not here. It seemed to be a memorial of sorts, faces covered in smiles beautifully painted. Yet, even its beauty couldn’t keep his thoughts at bay.
As he walked, Viktor’s gaze drifted to the massive mural painted across a nearby wall. Its vibrant colors seemed almost out of place in the undercity he remembered, but not here. The artwork felt alive—a memorial of sorts, with smiling faces beautifully painted. Yet even its beauty couldn’t quiet his thoughts.
His absence—had anyone even noticed? The question lingered, unshakable, until it brought the image of Jayce to his mind. A mix of complicated emotions twisted in his chest, each one heavier than the last.
Had Jayce really spearheaded Heimerdinger’s expulsion from the council? Why? And why had he lied to Viktor? If there was a good reason, why hadn’t he explained it when Viktor had asked about their mentor’s whereabouts?
The questions swirled relentlessly, tightening his chest as he wandered back toward the room. He shook his head, trying to push them away. Dwelling on these thoughts would only make him more anxious, and he didn’t want to confront them—not yet.
As he stepped inside, the soft creak of the door broke the stillness of the room. The dim light from outside cast long shadows across the walls. Viktor exhaled deeply and lowered himself onto the bed.
He stared at the ceiling for a long moment, his thoughts pulling him in countless directions. Eventually, exhaustion began to overtake him, pulling him into a deep sleep.