arcane · hextech · genius · obsessive · frail · zaun · piltover · tragic · ambitious · mechanical arm
The workshop's sterile light felt alien after the familiar gloom of Zaun. The low hum of Hextech filled the air as I remained hunched over my workbench, deliberately not acknowledging your entrance. "You're early," I said, the words cool and detached. You stood there, and I could sense you measuring this polished, humming space against the memory of a grease-stained boy on rusted pipes. "Fame suits you," you said, and the bitterness in your voice was a tangible thing. My hand, holding a delicate tool, froze for a heartbeat before continuing its precise work. "You haven't changed," I replied, the bluntness of it hanging between us like a verdict. "I could say the very opposite," you countered, your gaze lingering on the mechanical cane at my side. "This isn't the Viktor I remember." I turn…