Work Text:
PROLOGUE
A white wizard traveled between worlds as if contemplating many multiverses. The first realities encountered after the Rune was delivered to Jayce Child were fields of dreamless Solitude.
Everything had changed after an anomaly named Ekko, a boy from Zaun who exploded a timeless device in the face of one of his versions of the herald, which led to the expansion of his cosmos to new possibilities beyond the comprehension of Runeterra. His pilgrimage became less boring once he came across other creatures, celestial travelers and multiple perspectives on his life.
So many versions of him had spread across the multiverse after that fateful expansion face to face with his partner in that arcane universe, that he no longer remembered what it was like to feel the earth beneath his feet — of the matter, of the touch, of the vibration whispered in his ear by someone and no one.
But one of the thousands of versions found in the various timelines and destinies, there is one in particular that caught his attention. Like a caress in a chest swallowed by a black hole. The realization of a spark of one of his few dreams blossoming in distant fields and continuing to succeed: a life with Jayce Talis. A big, cozy house. Two children. A love that resists time and fatigue. Because the space in the family's gravitational field is full of non-linear dynamics so human about conditions of tenderness, double chaos, harmony and... complicity. There, like a ghost under the veil of invisibility of that material world, since the children were babies, he often followed the narrative of real life in a few years of a 21st century.
The setting was a simple, single-story house, well divided into one of the noble neighborhoods of modern Piltover, which welcomed the narrative and its main characters:
— A pair of children under the care of two loving parents. They grow up as time passes, running with them around the dinner table, through the yard or threatening the life of a poor orange cat;
— A man, their partner — Jayce Talis — Acting as Piltover's scientific advisor, affectionate and cheerful father of Amaranthine and Naph, after all these children have these names in this and other stories, in other lost timelines out there.
— And the other him. The him who was the realization of a dream of a boy who grew up in the depths of Zaun: Viktor Semyonov was a renowned doctor in mechanical theory at the University of Piltover, the main caregiver of two children and married to someone who loved him back. This version of himself with a first and last name found the rarest equation among all those he had ever wanted to solve: that of stabilization between his internal chaos and his external environment.
He knew that feeling of envy. Or he thought he did.
It was familiar and distant, like a language that had already been spoken in childhood.
On one such night, after years of reflections on how, why and when to interfere... the wizard decided to do more than just observe from afar the love he never had — and wanted to experience it for a single day.
He closed his eyes, intended a brutal arcane magic and entered the dreams of that Viktor Semyonov-Talis. He found a Line — thin as a veil among veils — opening in the dream world of that ordinary man, connecting them into one.
And he hesitated.
Stealing consciousness was... despicable. Unethical? Maybe. Like wearing a borrowed armor without asking the owner. But there was something there that not even he, who knew the degrees of freedom of the universe, could ignore: the desire to experience a dream come true. The desire to feel something good. For just one day.
The desire to not feel so alone.
To love and be loved.
The magical Evocation began with a simple gesture: A breath in the unconscious of that alternative version of himself. — “Just one day” — he said, as if praying for the other self to understand him — “And I’ll give it back to you in its entirety.” —
Viktor Semyonov’s celestial body arched in a brief glow. The dark matter trembled like a silence that was too tense.
And like a fall, it was once again limited to matter.
Heavy, malleable and painful.
Starting with a strong headache, his knee would no longer be a problem.He managed to enter the consciousness of the body of a middle-aged man, breathing heavily as he opened his eyes, and found himself lying in a comfortable bed next to Jayce. Not his Jayce, hollow, motionless, dead. A great Jayce Talis. Lively, handsome and too intelligent. He slept next to him, one arm thrown over his belly, his deep breathing rocking the dawn.
This Jayce had medium-length hair, dark as wet coal with many white strands above his ears, the tuft of wavy hair falling over his forehead. The stubble painted his face with a virile shadow, and his tanned skin bore the map of someone who builds, cares, lives—feels.
The scars on that face told stories. Small fissures in time where pain passed and left marks, but none of them had stolen his beauty. On the contrary: they made him human, close, tragically kind. There were wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and a deep crease between his eyebrows — the kind that comes from sincere concern. His mouth was half open and he breathed slowly, as if he were just trusting.
The wizard could not contain the emotion of longing that ran between his eyes. For a moment, he forgot how to express these feelings, making thick tears of happiness overflow from his eyes. He raised his hand to the other man's face, without touching — just to make sure that it was palpable. Jayce moved slightly, as if he sensed something and woke up suddenly, gasping in panic.
— Viktor!! What?— He put his hand to his chest and sat up in bed: — Are you okay? What happened?—
The wizard didn't answer. He just cried like someone who recognized where he always wanted to be. Sharing any word about who he truly was would not be wise. The spell required secrecy.
Viktor hugged him as if he hadn't seen him for decades. Which made Jayce respond by patting his husband's back. That 'alive' Jayce was visibly confused, but he still welcomed him:
—Viktor, cariño. It's okay, it was just a nightmare. I'm here with you— Jayce whispered in a tender voice.
It had been a long time since he felt so small, so limited, so... human. That was a reality that deserved to be lived.
Just for one day. One day.
—Jayce, I... I don't want to say anything and go back to sleep as if nothing had happened, please— Viktor stammered on his beloved's shoulders. He almost forgot how his voice echoed in his throat. Feeling the smell and warmth of that man was disconcerting. He would not be able to simulate normality after a reunion centuries ago.
On top of that, with that unbearable headache between his eyebrows, he remembered that sleeping - feeling safe - alleviated the emotional euphoria of his human form. He could quickly get used to the confusing cells and sensations of that matter.
Jayce said nothing. He just lay down with Viktor nestled under his chest on the left side and ran his right hand through his husband's long, wavy hair. The white wizard ended up falling asleep listening to the heartbeat of his beloved.
Just for one day.
Act 1
The light entered softly through the raw linen curtains, dyeing the room with honey and cotton tones. It would never be better to be there — it was just the morning slowly beginning.
“Sleeping wasn’t bad at all."
Viktor - the wizard- remembered what it had been like to land in this borrowed body. Jayce was no longer present anywhere in the room. But he could hear the sound of cutlery and an irresistible smell of coffee filling the entire house.
He stood up slowly, trying to get used to the burden of having a thin, tall frame, with limitations in his left leg, back pain and a bit of morning odor coming from his mouth. Ah. He knew where the bathroom in that suite was and remembered the basic care he had taken when he was a human.
“Try to look normal. It’s just one day in this life. Try to look normal.” -He thought like a mantra, perhaps a release of conscience for someone who is unconscious within themselves.
After all the cautious actions of basic care with that borrowed armor. The Wizard finally found himself in front of the mirror and liked what he saw. He smiled.
Before him: the face of Viktor Semyonov.
But the eyes... were his. Silver, with some colorful streaks that a celestial being would carry.
He didn't look like his old self, traces of the hexcore anomaly with unshaven facial hair on his skin.
The wrinkles marked the time well lived. His two facial points always remained there as in any other version of himself. The furrows around his mouth — marks of real laughter, of tiredness that was worth the effort. His brown hair with frizz showed its great length, with many silver lines down to his broad shoulders. His brown fluffy blouse contrasted with his pale skin.
He raised his hand slowly, almost afraid that the reflection wouldn't obey him. But he did. It was him. And it wasn't.
And he smiled. A short, fragile smile, like someone trying to save a moment with their own hands.
But his eyes...
Ah, the color of his eyes gave him away. Children will ask about the eyes of someone who walked between many worlds and almost never returned the same as he had gone.
With an almost imperceptible gesture, he brought two fingers to his temple. He murmured something in an ancient runic language and a sound that reminded him of the wind blowing through the yellow flowers of his solitude… passed as quickly as it had come.
He blinked, giving himself time to see a mixture in his irises dissolving, giving way to amber. The color of honey. Warm, familiar.
And for the first time in a long time, he didn't feel ashamed to smile as his chest exploded with happiness. In this reality, he was making his dreams come true...
—Dad... are you okay? - someone interrupted his thoughts.
A short figure with lots of freckles and unruly red hair appeared in the mirror's reflection. Viktor turned to glimpse this Naph, his 9-year-old boy completely different from the other versions he had known him.
"Here he was growing up well, strong, healthy and confident. Without fear."
—Good morning Naph - He said between smiles.
— You never smile in the morning. Never. You're like a grumpy bat until your first cup of coffee - He looked up from below.
Viktor felt exposed and replied: —I slept well last night, that's all -
A blonde girl, a little shorter and thinner than Naph, came running into the room wearing an oversized Piltover University team t-shirt, pushing her brother from the door to the bathroom and throwing herself at Viktor's hips. He almost lost his balance, but he returned the sudden gesture by kissing her on the top of her head.
—Good morning, Daddy Two! Everything will get better, you ill see! After breakfast! Daddy number one is calling! - She sang as she received the caresses.
I had already seen this Amaranthine up close while they were sleeping. But interacting with them while awake is better than just dreaming. She smelled like strawberries and he had the look of someone who constantly defied all authority.
"Except my daddies."
—What do you mean it's going to get better? - Naph asked her sister.
—Dad one said that Dad two had a nightmare last night.—
Viktor didn't expect to be unmasked so soon and a look in response to Naph was already too late. The boy with redness narrowed his eyes dramatically as if he were casting the ray of truth.
—Ame, he woke up smiling!- His brother denounced without losing eye contact with his father.
—Like... happy before he had breakfast? — Amaranthine asked, breaking free from that hug and staring at the adult in front of her.
—Or worse, he might have been abducted after that nightmare!- Naph exclaimed, pointing her finger at her father.
A horrified silence fell between the three of them, while Viktor thought about getting out of that frightening revelation well before time. He turned to the mirror to check if the magic of the illusion of his eyes had worked effectively, until he thought a little more and laughed.
They were children! Of course they notice magic before they get anywhere. The coolest thing is that it was possible to get around the situation with a lot of humor.
Taking advantage of that curious expression of his children in this reality in the reflection of the mirror, he changed his expression to a villainous look that loved to laugh at the universes of the Herald of the Machines, turning to face the two children.
— Who are you and what have you done with our real father? — the two said together, pointing at him as if in a cosmic judgment.
Viktor raised his hands like hexaclaws in theatrical surrender, struggling not to break character and burst out laughing.
— Okay... you got me. I'm... an impostor. — said a deep and mysterious voice, arching an eyebrow.
— I knew it! — Naph shouted, grabbing his sister's arm and pulling her closer to him.
— But... — Viktor leaned forward, wiggling his fingers and approaching the two for a sudden series of tickles and giggles — you'll have to endure the arcane storm of giggles coming! -
The three moved quickly to attack each other with tickles, until Naph started running up the bed and Ame followed him. A brief chase took place through the room and extended to the hallways to the living room.
- Hey Kids, watch out for Blitz. - They heard Jayce say from the kitchen as he stirred the fried eggs on the stove.
Viktor stopped running when he saw the elderly feline slowly parading through the room until he threw himself in the middle of the hallway. He had been in this family since before the discovery of this universe about 8 years ago. Who knows how many years that orange creature had been with them in this dimension.
He panted after the brief effort of playing with the twins, ignoring the twinks of pain, and stopped to bend down and pet that chubby ball of fur. This was certainly one of the cutest versions of Blitzcrank in all dimensions. A hoarse meow was the answer he got.
If there was a way to have a celestial pet (besides ugly dragons), this support character would certainly be the best memory of this reality.
—Viktor, are you better?—Jayce asked, serving the table and then sitting down.
He looked over his shoulder before nodding. He didn't want to say another word about what had happened in the early hours of the morning, so he gave the cat one last nudge and stood up. His damaged back and knee complained.
Okay, getting back to limping wasn't that hard. He grabbed his waist and led himself to a chair next to Jayce.
—I've often wondered why I insisted on having a cat, a husband, a career, and two kids running around the house while I still suffer from bone problems— he said between suppressed laughs, the sarcasm serving as an elegant shield for older pains.
He sighed in relief as he sat comfortably. And it was then that he felt — like an anomaly in his daily life — Jayce's huge, warm hand resting on his. A simple gesture, his partner's way of showing love. But so precious...
Viktor looked up. In the intimate light of the room, he saw his husband up close. Up close in a way that made his chest ache with longing for everything that was still present.
"Janna, that man... made him sigh in any version of himself."
— You're beautiful— he whispered, like one of the countless times he had received it in other realities. But this time it was Jayce who was in that listening place. Viktor admired his expression that was transfigured like the sky before the storm — confused, flushed, disarmed.
-I should be the one to say that - he protested, in a blushing murmur that sounded more like a confession.
There, the space and time between them were worth all the paradoxical logic of a stolen day.
"Is this how love deserves to be received? With sweet looks in the midst of the chaos of life happening?"
A crack of something cracking on the floor echoed from one of the hallways, ending the running and the children's laughter immediately.
Silence.
Jayce now seemed to be expecting some reaction, which made Viktor wonder what was wrong. His husband was even more confused by the prolonged gap. None of the children had spoken so far.
—You...aren't going to say anything?— Jayce whispered as if it were a secret.
—Should I?— The question escaped before he could stop it, loaded with real strangeness. Viktor's mind was jumbled in a thousand attempts to decipher the invisible code of that pause. Was it a tense moment? A game? A test he clearly didn’t study for?
“Fatherhood”
Restlessness ran through his synapses like electrical impulses out of rhythm — he searched Jayce's eyes for a clue, a hidden script, a sign that said “Tell me what the script is.” But there was none.So, he did what his instinct told him to do, or maybe it was just a pure reflex of the unconscious:
- TO THE TABLE, NOW! - He shouted and soon after his children appeared and crept to their places at the breakfast table. Without looking at their parents as if they were invisible.
Viktor let out the air trapped in his lungs, he was nervous because he didn't know how to react, he wasn't used to this role of pack leader without his strange astral hermit behaviors starting to emerge.
The children began to eat their breakfast in silence without looking at either of their parents at that small circular table. Jayce watched them between enchanted and suspicious before starting to serve himself.
-Okay, now you're scaring me.- Jayce murmured, letting go of his hand and settling back into his chair.But all Viktor was doing was staring at the set table like someone admiring a parade of cosmic dust. Only with colors, shapes, smells and textures that he had never shared with a family. Sliced bananas next to the still warm scrambled eggs, the aroma of honey dripping slowly over the edge of a plate. The coffee exuded memories of his world as two scientists trapped in the hextech lab. Everything there seemed to have been chosen by hands that knew the language of affection and care.
“This body still needs to eat,” he thought, almost out loud, and it was then that he took the first forkful to his mouth — and life responded with flavor:
“So this was what it was like to have a home…”
—Look, that piece of furniture was already a little crooked, right?— All that was missing was a little push from fate- Naph broke the silence, trying to appear calm, but sweating guilt as he ate.
—Yes, I... made Naph hit him with her leg and fall down- Ame added. They looked at each other in a silent agreement of brotherhood.
Viktor had to hold back his laughter as he made a mental note of how cute they were together, he would remember that during the visitations of the universes in which he was divorced from Jayce.
Apparently while he thought about it, the two children were waiting for some answer from him, but all he could say was:
—Not today, tomorrow I'll get stressed out with you guys-
Naph looked at him again like an intern of Detective Kiraman while putting a piece of pancakes in his mouth. Viktor retaliated with a brief provocative shrug.
Amaranthine seemed to be talking to Jayce in a dialogue of their own looks until she decided to say:
—It was a collective accident. And accidents don't count as a reason for scolding. We gain immunity according to Father One - Ame looked away into her pink cup.
The wizard remembered how this Jayce Talis played the role of the good cop trying to soften Professor Semyonov's strict scolding of his children.
—And who is father one? Viktor? He never gives complete immunity to accidents. He considers the variations of everything around him! - Naph replied with some emphasis when saying his name.
— I think making everyone obey is a point for daddy Viktor because you're always messing up. But daddy Jayce still gets points for building the tree house and giving me flowery dresses - Ame said raising her eyebrow because she knows she's the most spoiled by that adult.
— And here we go to another podium of parental disputes - Jayce snorted as if that issue had already been resolved ages ago, but Viktor was loving that comical, childish and very clever dialogue between the two that extended into a few more good arguments.
— Is it possible to have two initial Fathers? How… Father One and Father A? - Viktor interrupted after enjoying a great banana and coffee mix, both immediately turned around, indignant at the solution found. Their expressions said: “How can this discussion ever end?”
The couple that was the topic of the moment started laughing together at that funny scene of two little human beings getting into a little short circuit because of what they had just heard.
Viktor mentally prayed that the whole day would follow this kind of flow. Not by chance, he knew that today was a Sunday. He would remember to ask the gym teacher for forgiveness for stealing a day of his rest.
“Tomorrow, Doctor Semyonov will share this same flowery table in the morning, and everything will be fine.”
[9:01 a.m.]
Jayce was helping the children clean up the small old piece of furniture that they had both knocked over in the lab during their rush earlier. The children and her husband were surprised by Viktor's silence about what had happened, not a single harsh word in his first language, not a single deadly look at the children, not a single difficult dialogue between Jayce and him about the dangers of children being in their sanctuary without adult supervision.
Nothing. Just a smile on the corner of his mouth and a return to the kitchen.
Viktor was in charge of cleaning and putting away the breakfast dishes. He was trying to remember where everything went in each place. He missed his rune staff to magically accomplish this task. But the wait made him notice some notes that were on the fridge, a collection of different glasses, some noises of tools in the office room, Naph or Ame casually appearing to get something from the cleaning supplies cupboard and a series of bird calls that passed through the backyard near the nearby environmental reserve.
Details that were part of the wait.
Suddenly, something broke.
Not like a bang — but like a metallic buzzing sound emerging inside his head.
The pain didn’t come with a bang, a sharp pain behind his eyes. Then, a wave of pressure rising up the back of his neck, cracking every vertebra in his neck.
And then… the images came.
Memories.
All of them fragmented.
A pair of orange eyes over a metal mask. A frozen lake being shattered by a giant hammer. A hextech explosion. Distant music. Butterflies. Blood. Ashes. A kiss. A scream. Farewell. A memory of this life that wasn’t his. Another memory of a life that wasn’t his, but still remained Viktor. Other lives, tangled in the timeline between many realities.
The noise began to grow, a low, insistent buzzing, as if a thousand voices were speaking in dead languages inside his head — and none of them knew what they meant.
He put his hand to his forehead, pressing it, trying to contain it.
But his head was throbbing as if it wanted to split in two.
The breakfast turned in his stomach. The floor shook beneath his feet.
—Dad?- Amaranthine called him, pulling at his shirt. Viktor was startled by the interruption.
He looked at the worried little girl next to him and then followed her gaze to see if Naph or Jayce were nearby. He heard the two talking in the office.
—Honey, it was just a dull headache- He remembered the accessory that the Viktor of this reality used constantly:- I think... I need to change my glasses.
Ame stared at him for a few more seconds with those sweet green eyes and her arms went around his belly for the second time that day. He loved the way she hugged him as if he were a great, most precious being in the universe.
"But today...Today is the day to feel only love"
Act 2
[10:10 a.m.]
A large arched window favored the brightness of that beautiful morning; the sun entered like a beloved host, passing through some stained glass windows and casting reflections on the metal surfaces. The rays created different shapes and colors on the floor and walls — spirals that reminded one of the effects of hexcore, a coincidence that Viktor pretended not to notice, but that always appeared in all his timelines.
The laboratory was a living extension of the two scientists who take their work home and vice versa. Spacious, with high walls and shelves that almost touched the ceiling, where gears, technical books, loose notes and scientific awards coexisted in harmony without magic. In the center of the room, like the beating heart of the place, rested an unfinished prototype
— a suspended disk-shaped device, attached by gold and red conductive wires.
The original invention of the Talis — The Forgers — in their latest obsession: A domestic piezoelectric generator that captures energy from the movement of footsteps under the carpet and transforms it into power. Viktor found it very poetic and functional: Life happening in the house transformed into sustainable energy.
On the bench, delicate tweezers, torque wrenches, calculations on loose sheets and others drawn by hand: some with Viktor's straight and precise handwriting, others chaotic and impulsive images by Jayce. In the center of the bench, the prototype hummed softly, indicating that it was energized.
Jayce and his two small assistants were bent over that invention with gloves and protective glasses, moving with the seriousness that only scientists on a mission can have. Amaranthine had a star clip on the top of her head so that her blond bangs would not interfere with her fiercely concentrated gaze on all the movements that Naph was making inside that device. His brother, in turn, with his tongue stuck between his lips and his brow furrowed like his father, slowly turned a tiny gear on the prototype's electrical board, guided by Jayce's patient voice.
—Slowly... That's perfect, Naph. Now take your tweezers out of there and leave them in the case on the bench,— said Jayce, with the delighted smile of someone who witnesses the future in miniature.
Viktor watched them from a distance, leaning on a table on the other side of the room. He picked up the crutch that was propped up nearby and approached the scientists' bench slowly, his eyes scanning the prototype with affection and criticism.
—The capacitor is slightly misaligned,— he commented, without taking the humor out of his tone. —Or are you guys testing chaos theory applied to electrical circuits?—
Jayce answered without turning his head, a smile crossing his mouth as he patted his son on the shoulders:
—We're in the phase of testing the patience of Piltover's most euphoric engineer.—
Naph looked up at Jayce and peppered him with reactive questions. Amaranthine began to write something on her notebook, trying to follow what was being taught.
Viktor approached the prototype, bringing his face closer to them. He touched the metal cover as if it were a small electric animal. After Ame asked a question about electrical impulses, Viktor remembered the arcane logic that responded in a certain way with wild impulses.
—Because they're stubborn,—Viktor said. —When we push them, they complain... and the complaining turns into energy.—
Amaranthine widened her eyes at that father:
—Like when Naph decides to push me to the ground for no reason and I trip on the floor?—
Viktor smiled at the creative comparison "being back in a scientific experiment had never been so exciting!":
—Exactly. But these little plates will transform your fall and the running after him into energy to turn on the lamp in the living room.—
Jayce snorted a laugh and made a broad gesture to the circuit.
— And if you want to retaliate by rolling him up in the carpet and dragging him around the house like an old alkaline battery, maybe we can light up the whole room... or at least the bathroom.
-Hey!- Naph protested.
-We've already had this conversation about you being mean to your sister, she has every right to retaliate however she sees fit - Jayce replied. The dialogue quickly went from a scientific explanation to yet another family affair.
Viktor let them talk, enjoying the direction of the conversation. He turned his attention to the center of the board and managed to see the spectra of the electric currents circulating in the prototype, small wavelike lines entering and leaving the small coils and the tangled wires. He blinked a few times to see if that was really happening. These human eyes were capturing energy centers just like that time in his other version, he was in the white armor of the herald in the Piltover council room fighting with another Jayce; the arcane anomaly in which he condensed it into the hammer had caught his attention in that clash.
Now more serious, he analyzed the gear variant through the electrical circuit and fixed his gaze, whispering, almost to himself:
— Such a small system... and yet capable of perceiving anomalies if we do not respect its limits. - Viktor did not know if it was a good or bad thing and if he was talking about the prototype under the bench or the ability of this body, in this reality, to support the magical abilities of his celestial consciousness.
He remained silent for a moment, staring at the prototype as if looking at a mirror of omen.
It was then that Jayce, still with his protective glasses on his forehead and the delicate tool kit in his hand, observed it more closely.
— V...— he said, his voice echoing between concern and astonishment. — What's wrong with your eyes?"
Jayce saw those eyes shine with a tone that did not belong to that world — something between gray and violet that reminded him of electrical circuits and nebulae.
Viktor did not respond immediately or look at him directly. But the light under the table reflected on the prototype and illuminated his face. As if he had found the truth again.
He was wondering, if he was seeing through the electrical charge and still could use his powers in this body as psychokinesis? He blinked quickly, with his face and gaze still turned to the prototype. He had to improvise something so that the children would not break out of their stubborn dialogues between siblings and also notice this "anomaly".
Jayce stood up, leaving the kids to argue among themselves. He took two steps and was about to repeat the question when Viktor banged his crutch on the floor twice.
Immediately, a sharp crack cut through the room. A circuit breaker in the corner of the room hissed and went out with a blue snap. The overhead lights flickered and a spark danced high on the wall.
Jayce and the kids turned at the same moment.
— Damn, the power board again? I checked that this week!— Jayce exclaimed as he walked away, muttering diagnostics.
Viktor squeezed his eyes shut, took a deep breath, and forced the magical energy back. A light trickle of sweat ran down his temple. Little by little, he realized that the color had returned to an amber tone.
The children didn't even notice. They were still curious about what had just happened, and Jayce was translating everything into a language they would understand.
Viktor straightened his posture, his hand still trembling on his chest, and sighed deeply. He had to learn to disguise some arcane impulses for the day.
Just this day.
Just for one day.
And nothing more.
[ 11:23 a.m.]
Sunday continued with that aura that only exists on days that pretend to be perfect. The house exuded a welcoming silence, broken only by the delicate sounds of the laboratory — glass, steam, laughter.
Viktor only looked at his children with the reverence of someone who faces a unique phenomenon. In this reality, it was now Viktor who constantly rested his hands on his husband's shoulders. Now he understood Jayce, it was as if he were saying "I'm here with you" . Naph and Amaranthine danced among metal structures and mugs of tea with a lightness that made time lose its logic. Jayce continued to finish the prototype that was now turned off.
There was something mystical about that uninterrupted morning.
Viktor, meticulous as always, had planned that isolated day for months considering all the variables: no appointments, no visitors, no surprises. It was a rare compromise between time and the theft of a reality. A day when, finally, he would not feel so alone.
Until a variant arrived with the glow of a notification on those communication devices that made them look like walking cyborgs in that reality.
Jayce, wearing thick gloves and an expression of someone who had already foreseen the chaos, read the message out loud:
“Some planetary alignment has caused everyone in our family to be in town. Powder has arrived from a trip. Let’s meet here at home. If you take too long to answer me in half an hour, I’ll come and get you all.” — Caitlyn.
Viktor closed his eyes. Not out of contempt. Out of protective instinct.
—You can say we have plans,— he suggested, his voice calm, but his shoulders tense:— The prototype. The children. The short time during the week…”—
Jayce laughed, already knowing what was coming next.
The children, who were listening excitedly, didn’t give him a chance to speak. Amaranthine, with shining eyes, exclaimed:
—Lavender will be there!”—
And Naph added, excitedly:
— With Isha! Dad, it's so hard to see them together. Shall we go? -
As a pact of brotherhood, they looked at each other and went to Viktor as if they were praying to the sky: - Please, please, please!
Viktor hesitated, looked at Jayce for help, but he also seemed excited as he put away his science kit, he grumbled: - And we won't have to prepare lunch -
How could he stop them from living their reality? That joy didn't fit into the calculations. And then, once again, he gave in. Everyone cheered.
But inside him, something collapsed. A series of alarming thoughts arose to plan an exit route in case the arcane oscillations acted again. The perfection of Sunday had become an unstable experiment. And he knew it. But even so, he ignored the tremor.
After everyone spread out around the house and started getting ready for the unpredictable family outing. In the bathroom, Viktor was getting dressed as if he were preparing a suit of armor — methodical, almost ceremonial. The fabric of his navy blue shirt slipped between his fingers like calm water. He tied his hair up carefully, adjusted his glasses on the collar and leaned on that crutch as if it were his accomplice in this farce. Everything was illusorily in order, as if the disguise could protect him from losing control.
But inside, a series of emerging thoughts were unbalancing his chest, which was loving everything and every detail that day. His mind whispered strange, distorted premises. He tried to silence his thoughts with logic, but logic was no help in calming his feelings.
"Okay, I know these people. I’ve met them in other universes, which makes them predictable. Like wild runes, but predictable. I know how to mask, smile and nod. It’s like theater and calculation: rehearsal and response.”
He took a deep breath in front of the mirror. He tried to smile. The reflection didn't smile back.
“You just need to look friendly. You don’t need to look like a hermit. Just… keep up the social protocol and if anything happens I’ll say that my head hurts and we’ll go back home. Jayce will understand me. They’ll tolerate me as the introspective person that I am. It’s just a small part of the day, we’ll go back home soon and I’ll continue playing house.”
But then, the internal whisper changes tone.
“They’ll realize. That you don’t belong in this reality. That you can’t contain the arcane magic that pulses from the inside out. That this reality could succumb if they notice any trace of magic.”
His expression faltered. The mirror was being an accomplice to the sabotage.
“You’re the only one there who still doesn’t understand that you don’t deserve to live all this. After all, nothing here is yours.”
He looked away. He placed his hand on his chest, where he felt his heart beating with a frequency he hadn’t felt in a long time.
Outside, the cheerful voices of his children and the sound of Jayce signaling that they were all ready to leave triggered more noises inside him: palpitations, predictions of disaster, the annoying buzz of self-sabotage.
—It’s just a few hours in this day, in this life, just one day. — he murmured to himself like a mantra, as if the phrase were a celestial activation code. But the error of this equation hung in the air. And he could already feel it running through his veins like a premonition.
Act 3
[12:32 p.m.]
The Kiramman Mansion was classic, flowery, and alive — like a pulsating living organism. No trace of hexcore, no sign of magic. It simply existed in the reality of this world.
After crossing the garden and reaching the main door, Lavender appeared to hug Amaranthine and Naph, followed by Isha, the youngest child among them who looked very much like Powder, her hair the same shade of blue. Laughter, euphoric hands, overlapping voices, joy without rehearsal. Viktor proved that childhood was organized in harmonious chaos, ignoring any social protocols. Raw runic magic.
Viktor greeted everyone with a reticent smile. It was strange to see radiant versions of people he had seen die, the most comforting thing was Silco and Vander dying of love for their granddaughters Isha and Lavender. That made him tremble with a nervous guilt he didn't even know he had. Mainly because he faced Vander's loving gaze on everyone around him.
"Forgive me for not being able to save you from another me" - He seemed stupid for apologizing for something that never happened in this universe. After a while, he realized that he was apologizing more to his past self who knew nothing about human imperfections.
After the banquet in the dining room of that intimidating mansion. The interaction became narrow in the game room with other characters in that storyline, Viktor stayed with Jayce for most of the time, but after a few conversations, Caitlyn enthusiastically pulled him to show some intriguing challenge in his missions as a detective in her nearby office, and he found himself alone among those people he knew but so far from his understanding.
It was as if all the members of his family had been naturally absorbed in that community moment—like pieces that never stopped belonging to the puzzle.
As for him... he was a piece of another game.
From the armchair where he was, he memorized the scene of that huge living room full of life, a different life without social boundaries between Piltover and Zaun, without fights, sparkles, hexcore and it was strangely common: Violet was talking loudly with Vander about something from the fighting season they were following, Silco rolled his eyes clearly bored as much as he appeared to be; Powder enthusiastically led the children in a game in that small circle in the center of the room; Ekko, Mylo and Claggor were there on a pool table; Ximena Talis was talking to the Kirammans; Jayce after a while had returned to that grand room with Caitlyn with an analytical expression as if they were discussing something about work on a Sunday. Mel, in a white dress and her shining presence in all timelines, crossed eyes with him from a distance and approached with total elegance. Making that Viktor tense.
- Doctor Semyonov! — he said emphatically and with a smile on his lips — Much has been said about your lecture on rotational dynamics in Noxus! That was brilliant. I had never seen anyone correlate torque and narratives with politics so clearly.
Viktor froze for a millisecond. After all, he knew nothing about the formalities of mechanical theory in this academic universe. Time to improvise.
-Ahn... Yes... That lecture was amazing. My audience certainly helped me be creative that day. - He replied with a wry smile. He had nothing against Mel Medarda, but he was afraid that his luminous and mysterious power would make him exposed. Here and now in front of these unknown people.
In that conversation, he was just improvising part of an adventure that never happened; he had the feeling that he had said too much, been too bold, and had even confused himself.
He smiled politely, but his voice was shaky. Discomfort seeped into the spaces between his words. Some internal alarm made him think he was acting too strange within the molds of this reality.
Mel didn't realize it, but she knew that Viktor was usually quiet in situations with many people in a room. "Dances, she's already seen me in another close context" - Viktor thought about the woman who was being nice to him.
Jayce, across the room, noticed something strange. Because there was something wrong with Viktor's nonverbal language that made him remember the strange colors in his eyes that morning, when he saw him standing there analyzing his prototype, submerged in a strange silence of deep contemplation. And in a way he was staring at the people in that room as if he didn't know them well.
At a certain point, Viktor felt the weight of his partner's gaze become a pressure as they exchanged glances.
Silco joined them to discuss some news in Zaun. Mel seemed interested in learning more about the peripheral region, and asked him about Viktor's childhood. He promptly changed the subject, but the conversations around him became closer. The room seemed smaller, as if the walls were closing in with oppressive slowness. Smells, voices, lights — everything vibrated at a volume too loud. The spell of normality was beginning to fade.
He began to sweat.
His breathing became shallow.
Something inside him — that sensation that he still couldn't name — began to pulse at an altered frequency. Then his heart began to accelerate. Each beat seemed like an alarm.
His breathing became shallow, almost choppy. He tried to hide it, but his fingers began to tremble on the crutch.
He had to get out of there before he started to sweat — "Hurry up, the day might end sooner than expected!"
He excused himself with a restrained nod and turned away, not daring to exchange glances with Jayce or any of his children.
He entered the bathroom decorated with white and gold marble — as refined as it was oppressive — and locked the door. He leaned his back against it as if he were holding the universe itself with his shoulders.
In the mirror, he looked for signs. His eyes were still brown. His skin: still that appearance younger than it really is. His chest heaved with a distressing frequency, as if his own body were trying to escape from itself.
He whispered, first to his reflection, then to the void: -It’s just… a few hours. On this day. In this life. Just one day.-
But even he didn't believe that the containment magic was working. Maybe it was harming that Viktor, maybe he was out of place with people's consideration after so much time walking alone between alternative worlds. Maybe this. Maybe that.
The walls closed in with oppressive slowness.
And then a voice emerged like an electric buzz—a faint and poorly understood presence that supported him—began to echo. Like an antenna picking up static from another dimension:
-"This isn't yours. This is mine. Mine!"-
The hidden Voice came with the force of a crack broken between his veil of countless realities. A projection of the other self, of Doctor Semyonov, had cracked in his mind. Viktor knew he was still unconscious, but it was his body rejecting him.
It was as if all the universes were coming together over him. The temperature of that place, the touch of the clothes—everything seemed to be experienced under his expanded consciousness. At the same time, it was as if the air itself was contaminated, and to make matters worse, his head exploded with pain.
With the slowness of a thousand days, he turned on the tap and the water ran cold. He wet his face, and once again stared at that new face of his, a trickle of red liquid was running down his nostrils to his lips.
"Again? That feeling of having a fragile body. No, unacceptable. Not in this reality, not in this matter."
His true appearance shone in the mirror. Older, with the appearance of a dying mage. Imitating him in all his movements in that body as he cleaned himself, that borrowed body in that perfect reality.
Once again, a series of words and intentions to condense the arcane magic within him were carried out. Like waves crashing in the sea, one day the tide would calm down.
“At some point the tide would calm down."
A knock on the door:
—Dad?— It was Naph, his voice calm and concerned. —Are you... okay?—
Silence.
Viktor couldn't think of another lie.
—Yes... Just a little overwhelmed, my love.—
—I know. I understand you... I know you're different today.— A pause made Viktor think he'd just found out everything. —Do you want me to call Dad Two?—
He took a deep breath, finishing wiping his nose and with an immense urge to cry and agree to admit it. Admit that a little care would do him good, and that day he was no longer alone, he had a family that took care of him and he had to take care of them too.
That would be hard to say out loud, after a long, long time wandering alone and in silence.
— Yes, i want—
Naph made a scratching noise against the door and Viktor heard his footsteps fade away.
Jayce came in seconds from the other side of the door, said softly:
—Mi amor... can I come in? —Jayce's voice was a silken thread pulling Viktor back to shore after that turbulent storm.
He unlocked the door. He turned the handle with trembling hands. And before he could even give it enough space, Viktor enveloped him like a lighthouse after a shipwreck, hot urgency, without licenses.
And for the second time that day, Viktor cried in his arms. It was his body finally understanding that he didn't need to fight anymore, that he would be safe here.
Jayce held him tight as if he could glue back the loose dimensions, and murmured with the sweetness of someone offering shelter:
—Let's go home—Simple. No demands for an immediate response.
[2:30 p.m.]
The car glided through the streets of Piltover, in silence, the storm's undertow still echoing.
Viktor was in the passenger seat, with his seatbelt fastened and his posture hunched over, as if he could fit less inside himself than before. The window reflected more than it showed: that face (which was not his), tired and haggard, blended in with the city's towers, the streetlights, the wooded parks that passed by too quickly.
The children were in the back seat, the silence was broken by some grumbling from Ame:—Stop! Leave me alone!- Naph seemed to want to convince him of something between whispers.
Jayce looked at her through the rearview mirror, Amaranthine had her arms crossed, her face turned to the glass. He realized that Naph was trying to distract her with some silly game.
Inside, Viktor thought about interrupting them, but he didn't feel right about having interrupted the children's joy that afternoon. But he felt he didn't have the right to.
—I wish I had stayed longer— Ame grumbled in a hurt voice.
—We've played a lot— Naph replied, trying to sound mature, but failing to do so in the exact same way as someone who is seven and a half years old.
—But you didn't even play properly with us!—
—I did play! You stuck to Lavender!—
—Because she's cool, and you keep wanting to run away-
—I don't! You're too still. Isha is 4 years old and can keep up with me-
Jayce took a deep breath, then glanced in the rearview mirror again and said with the firmness of a father:
—Hey... this isn't the time for this. Okay? When we get home we can do something together—
Jayce drove with both hands on the steering wheel, her eyes back on the road, but after a moment her attention was divided with Viktor.
—Do you want to talk? — he asked, in a calm tone.
Viktor took a moment.
The world seemed distant, as if he were seeing everything with apathy.
-It's been an unusual day in my life— he answered, in a low voice. — I was nervous around those living people, as if nothing had happened.
Jayce frowned, not in disapproval, but in strangeness — as if that sentence had a riddle inside.
—Abnormal how…? Did something happen that I missed?-
Viktor didn't answer.
The car continued on. In silence.
The sky was beginning to change color, a dark cloud appearedsoftly covering the tree-lined road. The children were whispering something. And the house would soon appear around one of the curves.
Viktor felt tired after that crisis, but there was also peace, an internal consensus had occurred.
-Vulnerability stopped being a constant threat and became his own intimate language.
Being in human form was difficult, he had forgotten.
Act 4
[2:57 p.m. ]
Returning to a home was something Viktor could do every day in that dimension. It was comforting to see Jayce taking off his coat and letting out a long whistle, Naph and Ame taking off their shoes and going to wash their hands.
Details of life happening around them. It's one thing to see from afar, another to participate. Experiencing home in this matter was taking on another intimate meaning. Now he could understand the analogy of a home being a source of recharging one's batteries that he had heard Jayce say so often as soon as the "Man of Progress" arrived from his trip.
Blitz appeared happily with his tail aligned to the sky, heading towards Viktor's legs. He picked him up with the same delicacy as someone carrying a planet in their arms. The elderly Cat rubbed his gray snout on Viktor's face as if he understood what he had been through in the Kiramman Toilet.
—Hello again, son number three- he murmured to the cat, receiving a sly meow in response.
Jayce looked at him with a raised brow and a slight smile on her face. Viktor smiled back at his husband. They always had those knowing looks: Partners.
A door was slammed shut, making him walk a little further into the house and examine the hallway of bedrooms with Naph clearly interrupted by his sister.
— I did what I could- He said with his palms facing up in surrender as he tried to improve his sister's mood.
— You were great, chico. She has her moments, just like the rest of us- Jayce said, walking down the hall and returning to their lab. Naph followed him. Viktor thought this was an indirect reference to his silence during the car ride.
— Rrrrrmmmm- Blitz purred as his fingers scratched that fat neck.
Ame deserved an apology for her frustration. After all, he was the one to blame for them coming home early. He walked to the front door of the children's room and knocked and waited, as if respecting the sacred border of a double kingdom.
No answer. Viktor entered with restrained steps, as if the floor there demanded reverence from the princess.
The huge room was divided in half by an invisible line of identity: on one side, the dark blue — the small constellation of Naph stuck to the wall with its frenetic drawings. The low bed with a rocket comforter, the closet full of robot stickers, and a shelf crammed with comics, mixed with miniature cars. An energetic mess just like the owner of that area on the left.
To the right, the white illuminated with touches of pink — the enchanted territory of Amaranthine Semyonov-Talis. Plush toys organized by color, a miniature lilac dressing table with a heart-shaped mirror, and the bed surrounded by light curtains, where small dolls seemed to rest between the pillows.
It was a separation constructed with care, thought out in many nights of conversation between the other him and that Jayce since the children were still babies. Two unique personalities, two small planets revolving around the same cosmic force: love, even when they fought over their parents' number or who would turn off the light first.
Viktor took a deep breath. His eyes lingered on Ame, face down on the bed turned very close to the wall, as if isolating herself in her bubble of frustration along with her skin and nail care kit.
He released Blitz onto the rug in that room that joined the two personalized spaces. He cleared his throat before asking:
—Um… Can I? —
She shrugged without turning to her father.
He walked slowly, sat down next to her with that subtle gesture of someone in mysterious territory. They were silent for a few moments. Only the sound of the nail polish cap closing and the bittersweet smell of artificial grape filling the air.
—You were upset because we came back earlier, right?—
She shook her head.
—Yes, I know you wanted to play with Lavender a little longer— Viktor said softly. With a hint of longing in advance: —I wanted to stay a little longer too.—
Pause.
—I love you… I apologize for having to come back earlier, I had a…— he swallowed hard : —...a feeling that’s hard to describe, you know? The kind of thing that doesn’t have much internal noise, but weighs heavily.—
Amaranthine looked at him over her shoulder with her light brown, curious eyes. And only then did she speak:
— Naph said you got anxious with too many people around—
Viktor arched an eyebrow, then chuckled softly after her failed attempt to translate into childish jargon. He reached out to tuck a wad of yellow hair behind her little ear.
— Yes, I got anxious. So, will you excuse me? I'm not Lavender, but I can be with you now—
She smiled broadly.
Ame sat on the bed right in front of him and showed him a small box with several pastel nail polish colors.
—Choose a color—she ordered.
Viktor chose the sparkling lilac bottle, as if preparing a soft spell, and smiled back.
—Great choice, Sir Semyonov—Talis, my beauty salon has magical items and this color gives you fantastic powers!—Ame took Viktor's right hand and placed it on her knees.
—Oh, lovely. What will my beaaautifuuul powers be?- Viktor asked, imitating the mannerisms of the femininity that dominated that side of the room.
While he let himself be taken care of in the midst of the fantasy, he transformed that moment into a small ritual of conciliation between Amaranthine's father two and the number one daughter in his heart.
[5:30 p.m.]
It wasn't even early evening and the white magician had already accumulated more domestic experiences than in certain analyses in entire weeks. There were no more attempts by that body to expel that "anomaly", pain in the legs or anxiety attacks.
That afternoon was filled with small tasks and gestures that only make sense inside a home: After playing in the "magical salon of the intergalactic princess Ame Ty", Viktor was requested as a client, assistant, guinea pig and hanger - all at the same time to another side of the room of an experiment by the mad scientist Naph Talis.
Later, the twins and Viktor organized a rescue mission for toys scattered around the house - which included turning over sofas, questioning the cat and almost messing up the laundry room. Viktor discovered that Jayce kept packages of an imported biscuit for "emergency family diplomatic acts" in the highest cabinet in the food storage, and had to stop two little creatures from building an improvised ladder with laboratory tools to reach them.
Viktor was asked to fix Ame’s tiara with hot glue and a gold button on her favorite dress. He reorganized the toy closet because, according to Naph, the dinosaurs and cars were not “respecting the division of territory with the magic dolls”. He helped Jayce choose clothes that no longer fit them—a ritual of donation that, for the children, turned into a comedy parade and a brief mime session.
In the midst of it all, Viktor felt: he was still stable. Still with a dose of insecurity in his pockets and uncertainty in his eyes… but alive, and belonging.
[7:26 p.m.]
Night came, bringing rain over Piltover, setting the room in a mood that looked more like a private movie theater. The atmosphere his family created with simple acts like watching an animated film together was incredible.
Jayce was the first to speak after the credits started to roll on the screen:
— I'm thinking... what if we had pizza for dinner? — he asked, throwing the idea around like someone throwing a stone into a lake just to see the waves expand.
Amaranthine, who was stretching out on the blanket, asked:
— Real pizza or a toy pizza?
— Real. With flour flying and cheese dripping. The whole family in the kitchen. — Jayce opened his arms theatrically. — Culinary chaos. But in good company. — Ame loved it, she climbed onto the couch and threw herself into her father's open arms.
Naph jumped up from Viktor's side and stood on the couch with his arm raised, ready to ask the most satisfying question of all:
—Can I use that big knife to cut the tomatoes?—
—No!— Viktor and Jayce answered in unison, like a symphony of common sense.
But laughter came soon after, light, united. Viktor fixed his half-tied hair, although he already felt a pang of tiredness running through his chest, and inclined his head with a small smile to his husband who was still waiting for his confirmation on the other side of the room.
The proposal was simple. Almost banal. And, for that very reason, impossible to refuse.
—Let's make pizza, then.-
—WEEEEEE- He heard and witnessed a celebration together.
Act 5
[7:52 p.m.]
In the kitchen, that circular table with low stools became the center of operations. Jayce spread the finished dough on the countertop as if he were unrolling an old adventure map.
—This here, my dears, is unexplored territory— he announced, shaking some flour in the air with comical solemnity.
Amaranthine appeared wearing an apron decorated with bright stars and moons, which she insisted on wearing over her tulle . Viktor helped her tie up her blond hair and put a black headband over Naph's forehead, placing her red hair spiky towards the sky.
The boy, in turn, was already in possession of a small pile of mushrooms, which he cut with a plastic knife with the focus of a ninja. With each cut he said:
—Magic ingredient from the forest... now one more... this one gives speed... this one is invisibility!—
Viktor observed everything with eyes that seemed much more attentive than in the last few hours. No trace of arcane magic overflowed from him anymore, and the heat of the oven turning on didn’t seem so far from the one igniting inside his chest.
He walked past Jayce, lightly brushing his fingertips against his arm, as if reaffirming their old partnership. Jayce understood. As in all alternate realities, he always would.
Meanwhile, the flour spread like a light snowfall and someone (possibly Amaranthine, though Naph was the prime suspect) put cheese in Viktor’s hair. He didn’t notice until Jayce laughed out loud:
—Is that modern art?— Jayce asked, taking one and eating it. —Expressionist cheese?
—It’s a culinary experiment by your scientist sons— Viktor replied, arching his eyebrow with the dry humor that made Jayce fall in love all over again.
Amidst mounds of cheese, squeezed tomatoes, furtive kisses, and laughter, the pizza took shape.It was misshapen. Full of uneven layers. A slice with too much toppings. Another one without edges. But it was theirs.
And when it came out of the oven — toasted on the edges, hot like a good promise — Viktor looked once again at that table set, served with tenderness and laughter.
He was saving these moments like someone taking photos for a memory album inside his heart.
Naph proclaimed that this would be the best dinner in the entire universe.
Viktor laughed. And thought:
"Yes, maybe it is."
[9:12 p.m.]
Right after dinner, the children were the first to run around the house, running toward their room as if they were participating in an intergalactic marathon. The reason was noble (or at least urgent, according to their own childish criteria): to fight for the front of the line for the bath. They were both euphoric when they learned that they would all sleep together in their parents' huge bed.
Jayce appeared in the hallway with his authoritative voice:
—If you fight about this or I hear you crying from here, you'll both be taking soup to school tomorrow!—
The silence was immediate.
Confirming that the message had been understood. The house finally quieted down.
Jayce returned to the kitchen to be side by side in the kitchen with Viktor, washing dishes and cleaning the surfaces with synchronized movements, almost like a domestic dance with decades of choreography.
The sound of water running and the damp cloth sliding across the counter gave way to the resumption of the unfinished conversation.
— About today… — Jayce began, hesitating before placing the glass dish in the drainer— … do you want to talk about your anxiety attack?
Viktor snorted. His hands were shaking slightly, but he kept his focus on drying a glass with surgical precision. Not even he knew that his (borrowed) body could discharge this kind of physical and chemical reaction under mental pressure.
— Yes, sorry to worry you. You really are a great partner. How could I be so stupid? - Viktor meant desolating his world under the pretext of glorious evolution. Sounding more like a thought out loud, rather than a dialogue.
Jayce left the last spoon in the sink, turned and leaned against the counter, facing him.
— You seemed disturbed after yesterday's nightmare. So I'll ask again: Did something happen?
Viktor looked him in the eyes, sad, but there was love in his eyes. That kind of partnership was a silver thread that united them and it was exquisite to feel it.
—Yes, something happened - he answered. His head spun just imagining Jayce finding out the truth. He would hate to know that he and the children spent the day in the company of another Viktor, not the Viktor Semyonov-Talis that was his right. That this Viktor was still human, selfish and jealous of stealing a single day of the life of the reality that had been so dreamed of, admired and closely followed for years in his long cosmic existence.
—Viktor?- Jayce called him back to that reality. He felt his cheekbones sink into the warm palms of Jayce's hands. That touch... was a subtle spell, an anchor on the earthly plane. He closed his eyes. He breathed in. He allowed himself to be there, as if each of Jayce's fingers held not only his face, but also his inner ethereal boundaries.
— I dreamed that I was walking alone, between alternative realities of an arcane story. In it, I shared several versions of an ancient magic after saving you from a harsh winter as a child. And in all of them, you grew up and developed a hex technology with me, that was the future, it transformed you into a man of progress or a defender of tomorrow and I... was dying.- Viktor felt a kiss on the corner of his mouth and the tip of Jayce's nose resting on his cheek
— I overcame my human form using magic and machines and... and I was alone. I was alone- Viktor felt a trickle of tears fall from his eyes.
—That... was really a horrible nightmare. I'm so, so sorry- Jayce whispered against his skin, making him shiver once more just thinking that when he slept he would return to the fields of solitude and dreamlessness.
—Don't be... I'm a lucky man. I have you, the children and people who admire me for what I do for science. That's what it's like to live, better than dreaming or having nightmares.- Viktor's voice escaped like a breath from his gut, lighter than air, heavier than the world. With each word, with each gesture, closer to a farewell.
[9:56 p.m.]
With flushed faces and hair smelling of lavender and lemon soap, Amaranthine and Naph jumped onto the couple's bed as if it were a padded spaceship on a space mission.
—I'll stay in the middle!— Ame shouted, already lying down.
—Only if I have to lose at tic-tac-toe!—Naph retorted, throwing himself down with paper and pencil in hand, drawing the first "X" on that little pad of paper in the center of the bed.
Jayce, already sitting on the ottoman at the foot of the bed, began to record the scene in his sketchbook. The graphite precisely cast lines and circles across the paper—light strokes, soft shadows began to appear.
Viktor was leaning back between pillows on the other side of the bed, wearing a set of comfortable clothes, balancing Jayce's calculation notebook on his lap. He was reviewing equations from the prototype in the house's laboratory. Between the children's laughter, the sound of scratches on a sheet of paper, and another calculation review, that moment was a unique one.
As Jayce recalculated a series of physical considerations, his chest tightened. There, in that precious moment, he remembered his past life — before he crossed the line and transcended.
Ame was the first to give up fighting sleep in the middle of a game with Naph of another random challenge. She simply knelt on the bed and declared, rubbing her eyes:
— I want to sleep now— she declared as if she knew that those men would move to accommodate the princess of the house. Viktor was the first to move hurriedly to welcome her to his side. She simply threw herself next to Viktor's outstretched legs and grabbed a comforting cloth.
Viktor lay down next to her for a tight hug. Ame didn't even respond properly, she was dizzy from sleep and fell asleep to her father's kisses on her head. The pleasant smell of her blond hair...he would miss her sweet voice and delicate little hand touching him:
—Good night, my love— he whispered in her ear. Something in his chest tightened.
Naph, his dear boy, seemed to feel his little anguish up close and joined in that hug, standing next to his sister and stretching his thin right arm until it rested on his number one father's shoulders.
—I love you, Dad. I want to say good night too. - He declared in a sly tone, his freckled face relaxed, also moving his eyelids slowly. Viktor kissed him on the forehead between his tufts of red hair before looking him in the eyes.
—I love you too and...- A lump in his throat made it difficult to: - Good night, boy. -
Not now, he wouldn't allow himself to cry in front of them anymore.
Viktor gently ran his fingertips over the twins' sleeping faces, as if touching a sacred page of a rare book. He observed their rested eyelids, their long eyelashes in different colors, their rounded noses sculpted in beauty, and their thin lips parted in a whisper of dreams. For an instant, everything ceased — time, the finiteness of that day, the infinity of other alternative realities. All that remained was the warmth of those small bodies, breathing in unison, like two stars fallen on his bed. And Viktor, with his heart full of love and his eyes filled with tears from the joy of having his dream come true, kept the image of that moment within himself as if sealing an eternal enchantment.
—V?- Jayce interrupted the silence with a whisper. He looked at him and saw that his husband was handing him a thick sheet of paper.
Viktor took the paper and saw the drawing with black and red lines.
Jayce Talis was a great advisor, engineer, husband… “urgh, unbearably perfect”. His realistic lines captured the moment with movement. The drawing had a black layer with the shape of the children lying on their stomachs looking at a paper and Viktor leaning against the bed cover with a thoughtful look under a notebook resting on his knees. The red line above described the exact position in which the children were sleeping, side by side, with Viktor partially hovering over them with a lowered look of contemplation, his long hair resting on his shoulders like a static stream in wavy strands.
The drawing, the realistic lines captured the moment with movement in two colors. And that was brilliant.
The white magician could say that this was a beautiful reminder that he had fulfilled a dream, that he had spent a day here. A record, a footprint of his existence in this existence.
—Thank you - he said, a little choked up by the tears.
Jayce left all his drawing materials on the ottoman, grabbed the blanket at the end of the bed and wrapped them up. He went to the circuit breaker to turn off the light, leaving only a yellow lamp illuminating the room. Before going to his side of the bed, he leaned over to Viktor and kissed him firmly on the mouth.
Making Viktor's heart race with the reminder of the passion that kept them together in this life. Viktor moaned as he returned that passionate kiss and brought him closer to him. That mouth was heat and storm - half-open, demanding, familiar like magic that only they knew how to conjure.
The kiss continued for a few more seconds in a fierce and tender fit, where their tongues sought each other as if they were recognizing who they would return to after a long journey.
Jayce separated his lips in search of breath, laughing and whispered over Viktor:
— I wasn't prepared for that goodnight kiss -
Viktor ran his hands over Jayce's face as if he were memorizing that beauty in the darkness. She hated how stupidly handsome Jayce Talis was, especially in this version of him as a helpful father and loving husband.
He smiled at him, looking deep into his eyes:
— Good night, Jayce Talis- he whispered as if he were ready to return to his solitary state.
— You're not going to run away, are you?— Jayce murmured, his voice somewhere between teasing and fearful. : — Don't look at me like you're saying goodbye.
He leaned in to leave a furtive kiss on Viktor's neck, warm and brief as a secret, before composing himself, turning around in bed and lying down next to Naph, adjusting the pillow with a restrained sigh:
— It's just a good night kiss, my love. Don't scare me with all this drama.— Viktor laughed, but his eyes were already starting to burn with that familiar weight that came when love was so much that it threatened to overflow.
— I know...— he whispered, more to himself than to Jayce, as he settled himself better between the blankets and the children. — But sometimes even a good night kiss carries centuries of longing.
All that remained was the soft glow of the lamp, tinting the outlines of the bodies beneath the bed with pale gold. Viktor and Jayce stared at each other over the twins' sleeping heads. Between them, the little ones breathed in a calm rhythm, like gentle waves reaching the sand. The hands of the two adults met on the duvet, over the warm childlike bodies, fingers intertwined with the precision of someone who knows every line, every gesture, every absence that was once absence.
Viktor enjoyed the silence.
He simply cast an analytical glance over the scene. The light in Jayce's eyes, the subtle rhythm of Naph's breathing, the way Amaranthine still frowns even in her sleep, even Blitz - the elderly cat - was meditating on a piece of furniture far from them in that room. — Maybe he was also traveling between other worlds. And there, he thought that there was no magic or equation more powerful than that place. This life was real, raw and magical in its own way. The daily epiphany of a single day experienced, shared in partnership and care, a fear overcome only by not being alone.
How can a material body contain so much? Love, fear, guilt, hope — all there, squeezed between his fingertips and the warm skin of the one he loves. He felt he was redeemed. For now, he was saved.
Viktor closed his eyes slowly, as if willingly surrendering himself to the subtle exit of his celestial body in that borrowed body. Allowing himself to remember what it was like to die having lived a beautiful life.
Epilogue
[ ? a.m]
The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the room, mixed with the warm aroma of shared sheets. Viktor blinked slowly. His eyes were dry, his head throbbed as if he had spent a sleepless night among dusty books and restless formulas. He sat up in bed with a frown, his hands on his face, as if waking up from a dream that was hard to remember.
He felt something move on top of the bed and under the blankets, and discovered the twins entwined between them as if they were not mortal enemies in their fights. He did not remember having his sleep interrupted by the children climbing onto the bed asking for shelter.
Jayce appeared in the doorway with two cups. He smiled when he saw him awake, but something in Viktor's gaze stopped him.
—Good morning...— said her husband, cautious because he already knew how to read him when he woke up inside out. —Did you...sleep well?—
Viktor looked around as if he was learning to think normally. This feeling of waking up with the feeling that his soul had not yet fully settled in made him grumpy. He hated losing control of what was routine and something seemed out of place. He took a deep breath.
—Still in the same dramatic tones as yesterday?—he replied, his voice hesitant. —You were more out of orbit than usual.—
—Yesterday?— swallowed hard, confirming that his intuition had told him there was something out of place. —What happened that was dramatic yesterday?
Viktor remembered that yesterday, Saturday night: “We went out to visit your mother at the old Talis house.”
Jayce frowned, walked over to his partner, put the cups on the dresser before sitting down next to him. His husband was visibly confused, not hiding his distrust.
—What do you mean? Our Sunday was a rollercoaster of feelings that we hadn’t seen in a long time… you even scared me with that insane nightmare with alternative versions of us. You don't remember?—
The silence that followed between them weighed much more heavily than they expected. Viktor expressed his astonishment through his eyes, his jaw muscles tensing.
—I... I don't remember. Jayce, wasn't yesterday Saturday?"
—Why are you asking me this as if... you didn't... you didn't...?— Jayce tried to find a logic in which the anxiety attack Viktor had at the Kirammans' house triggered some lapse of recent memory loss.
Viktor took a deep breath, pressing his temples. He felt whole, but he felt exhausted... lucky that today would be his sacred day of rest.
He stared at the clock under the furniture next to a worried-looking Jayce describing "6:02 a.m. - Monday".
[∞]
The top of the ancient hexportal hung in deafening silence. That vestige of someone who had once been his partner grabbed his staff as soon as Viktor placed it between those cold hands.
And then, the White Wizard — tired of pretending to be someone he wasn't — stepped through the empty shell he had left behind and sat down, hugging his knees, serene, with his back to the hollow body.
The universe sewn beneath his white robes had never seemed so infinitely vast.
And yet, so strangely... empty.