The library in Piltover was grand and filled with the scent of old books and polished wood, its towering shelves lined with volumes of knowledge. Massive windows allowed the late afternoon sunlight to pour in, casting a warm, golden glow across the room. Viktor sat at a large reading table near one of those windows, surrounded by books and scrolls, but today his focus wasn’t on science or engineering. Instead, he held a simple, worn-out book in his hands, reading aloud to the small group of children gathered around him.

You stood a little ways off, leaning against one of the large bookshelves, watching him. The quiet of the library, the way Viktor’s voice echoed softly between the shelves, and the look of quiet contentment on his face made the whole scene feel peaceful. It wasn’t often you saw Viktor like this, away from his lab and his intense research, truly present in the moment.

He glanced up at you for a brief second, catching your eye. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, a rare but sincere expression. There was a light in his gaze that you recognized — one that told you he was enjoying this moment as much as the children were.

When he finished the story, closing the book gently, the children clapped, their faces lit up with joy. Viktor gave them a slight nod and a soft smile before they scampered off, whispering excitedly among themselves. The library returned to its usual quiet, save for the occasional rustling of pages and the creaking of floorboards.

Viktor leaned back in his chair, his fingers lightly brushing the cover of the book as he let out a contented sigh.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?”