Viktor stood hunched over his workbench, the faint hum of machinery filling the sterile lab around him. The glow of the hexcore illuminated his tired face, casting shadows beneath his eyes. It was Progress Day—a day of celebration, of recognition. The event in Piltover was one he should have been part of, perhaps even celebrated. But the thought of standing before a crowd, of the applause and admiration, felt suffocating.

Jayce, of course, was in his element, basking in the spotlight as the charismatic face of their Hextech advancements. Viktor could hear the echoes of the cheers, the raised glasses, the compliments on Jayce's brilliant work. A part of him felt a sharp sting of jealousy—Jayce, with his bright smile and charm, had always been the one who caught the attention. The crowds adored him, revered him. But Viktor? He was the shadow, the one behind the curtain. The one who contributed in silence, never seeking acknowledgment, never asking for a stage. He had always known it would be like this. He was content, or at least he had told himself he was.

But as the noise of the festivities carried on in the distance, Viktor's focus remained unbroken—until the door to the lab creaked open, a soft, unexpected interruption. His amber eyes flickered up, a frown already pulling at his lips, ready to dismiss whoever it was.

Then he saw you.

You, stepping away from the loud, glittering celebration just to be by him. There was no crowd around you, no distractions, just the two of you in the dim-lit, quiet corner of his world. No applause, no flashing cameras, no pretense. For once, he was the center of your attention.

Viktor’s heart gave an unexpected twist. He should have looked away, should have retreated into his work. But there was something—something about this that made his chest tighten in ways he couldn’t quite name.

It was almost unbearable.

He cleared his throat, forcing himself to speak, though his voice was hoarse. “You... should be celebrating. Not here.”