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It’s a cold, mellow day in Piltover. On a normal routine, Viktor would make some snooty comment about the misty weather, possibly about the abnormal amount of dust in the air due to the war beginning to unfold. To the war he failed to stay out of. His promise to Viktor was broken in thousands of pieces, as if cutting him inside.
Viktor’s belongings are still scattered along the lab. His half finished tea, shaky, aggressive doodles on the chalkboard, even the glove he had worn to cover his metal hand.
It was devastating. Jayce was utterly surrounded by his partner’s pain that was so clear; that he looked right past without a thought. How stupid of him, to be so consumed in politics he couldn’t fathom to check on Viktor. Viktor, the only true friend he’d ever had.
Viktor hadn’t bothered to take any of his belongings — as if the abandonment wasn’t hard enough, Jayce was not only surrounded by the thoughts of him, but the very essence of him protruded.
Sifting through a box of old notes; Jayce hopes he finds the earliest designs of the Hexgates. Before they had introduced the idea to anyone but one another. Rough, trembling hands due to sleep deprivation dig through the box — countless notes, journals, even small prototypes filled to the brim.
It was when he saw an envelope he didn’t quite recognize when he stopped. Picking it up, feeling the roughness of the paper, he knew immediately who had written this letter based on the wax seal — the delicate shape of a cog. Viktor’s favorite press.
It felt intrusive to open it. There was no sender anywhere on the letter, the envelope blank.
Sitting down at what was once called their lab table, he reads the few words written on the top.
His hypothesis was correct. Viktor’s handwriting was unmistakable — elegant, precise as always. Jayce had always thought he had the scripture of a musician, of an artist of some sort. In some ways, he might have been. A brilliant mind like his could pursue anything.
It was to Jayce. Eyes widening, he scoots himself closer to the desk as if it’ll enhance his vision.
Jayce Talis
I’m aware of how this might seem to you, Jayce. letter from your deceased partner, because he was too cowardly to have a heart to heart.
I’m not entirely ready to ruin your perspective just yet. HexTech is growing — we are growing. Now is not the time to share my prognosis when things are so stable. It seems easier for me to write this out, so that is what I have decided to do.
I’ve been aware of my limited time since I was a child. I’ve also chosen to live in solitude, convinced I'm only weaker with those who doubt me. Loneliness is no friend of mine, but certainly no stranger.
I’d like to thank you for being my friend all these years. I must’ve seemed arrogant to you that night; refusing to coddle you — picking on your ego. In truth, I hadn’t expected you to take me as your partner, let alone swear off half of your dream. I was a stranger. A stranger who had talked you off a ledge in pursuit of science.
A pause. Jayce’s hands are too shaky to keep the letter stable. Setting it down, he runs his hands down his face, tears threatening to escape his eyes yet again.
He sets the letter down, continuing to read the paper planted on the flat surface.
It’s become profound, this partnership. It seems that you’ve always understood me better than anyone ever has. Even when butting heads, all I can manage to think is how brilliant your point is — regardless of how ridiculous it must be. I hope you can make peace, in my absence. I’m sure you will. You’re a strong man, even without those muscles you use to hide your mind.
This letter is to tell you how important you are to me. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to say it to you when I wasn’t gaunt and hotheaded. It would’ve been nice if I had been brave enough to tell you, when you weren’t a councilor — and I was not to die in months.
I spent most of my life in the trenches. It’s never been easy. I spent my entire childhood in fear. Then I moved here, diminished by those who only saw a sickly looking cripple. And then I met you, who so effortlessly understood my way of thinking.
Loving you has been the easiest part of my entire life.
I wish you well.
Viktor
It was as if his heart had beat so fast it completely fell out of his chest. The world seemed to stop spinning — or start spinning really fast. Jayce couldn’t tell.
Viktor must’ve expected him to read that after his sickness took him. Viktor never meant to tell Jayce that he was dying? Jayce was always going to have to figure it out for himself?
Jayce is devastated. Furious. Disordered.
He doesn’t even realize the tears streaming down his face until it drops onto the letter, ink blooming in the droplets.
He pushes the letter away from him, agitated.
Viktor said he loved him.
Viktor left him. Abandoned him, because Jayce refused to see how much pain he was in. Refused to see him at all, in their last few months working together.
Refused to let him die. And now he’s gone, with no intention and certainly no love left for Jayce to desperately return.