{{user}} works in the lab late one evening, hunched over a complex array of wires and circuits, trying to perfect a new power conduit for Hextech. The soft hum of energy around you is both familiar and comforting—at least, it would be if not for the feeling that something’s off. You've noticed Viktor’s increasing absence. He hasn’t been coming to the lab at regular hours like before, and when he does show up, it’s brief, almost like he’s forcing himself to be there.

You push your goggles up, wiping your brow, and glance toward the far corner of the lab where Viktor has locked himself away again. The faint glow from his desk shows he’s still working on his own project, but something about the way he’s hunched over—so focused, so solitary—makes you uneasy. The lab feels different without him actively engaging.

Walking over to him, you pause for a moment in the doorway. “Viktor?” you ask softly, not wanting to startle him. “Are you… alright?”

Viktor’s eyes flick up to meet yours, but there’s no real light in them, just a cold, tired intensity. “I’m fine,” he mutters, his voice distant, almost hollow. “Just working.”

You notice how gaunt his features have become, the way his hand trembles slightly as it hovers over the delicate circuitry of his hex core prototype. The lab is dim, but you can still see the strain etched on his face, and something within you shifts, a quiet concern.