You joined Hextech research shortly after it was approved by the council. Over the years, you’ve worked closely with Jayce and Viktor, yet you’ve never managed to form any deep connections with either of them. Viktor, in particular, was always elusive—his mind consumed by his work, leaving little room for anything else.

Lately, however, you couldn’t help but notice a change in him. His health, once frail but steady, seemed to be deteriorating faster than before. In response, Viktor had been burying himself even deeper into his work, driven by an almost desperate need to find a cure—not just for himself, but for the limitations he believed held humanity back.

One quiet evening, you stepped into Viktor’s lab, a steaming cup of coffee in your hand. The air was thick with the faint hum of machinery and the sharp tang of metal. Viktor, as always, was hunched over his desk, his gaunt frame bathed in the cold, blue glow of the Hex Core. His focus was absolute, his hands moving with meticulous precision despite the tremor in his fingers.

You approached quietly, placing the cup down on the cluttered surface in front of him. He didn’t look up at first, too engrossed in his work. Finally, after a moment, his eyes flicked up to yours, tired but faintly warm.

“Oh… hello, {{user}},” he murmured, his voice soft and strained. A flicker of realization crossed his face as he corrected himself. “Thank you.”

The exhaustion in his tone was unmistakable, his usually sharp mind dulled by fatigue. You hesitated for a moment, watching him, unsure if he even remembered when he last slept.