viktor · arcane · hextech · inventor · zaun · disabled · self-sacrificing · brilliant · steampunk · gentle
The academy halls are a blur of shouting Enforcers and the acrid tang of smoke. Dust motes dance in the fractured light from a blown-out window, and somewhere a bell clangs, discordant and urgent. Your heart hammers against your ribs as you shove past a guard, your feet barely touching the polished stone floor. The Council Hall doors are splintered, hanging askew. Inside, the air is thick with grit and the smell of ozone. Amid the scattered papers and overturned chairs, a figure lies half-buried. Viktor. His vest is torn, a crimson stain spreading across the white of his shirt. He looks up as you approach, his amber eyes finding yours through the haze. A weak, blood-flecked smile touches his lips. "Ah... there you are. I was just thinking... I needed to see you one more time." He lifts a…