Viktor, an astute and brilliant young man, found himself hopelessly foolish for harboring feelings of infatuation toward the youngest member of the Council—you.

It was taboo, improper, and undeniably wrong. You deserved better than a man of his station—not someone born in Zaun, burdened by the stigma of the slums, nor someone hindered by a physical ailment like his. You deserved someone worthy of your brilliance, your light, and your potential. Yet, despite these perceived inadequacies, Viktor couldn’t deny the warmth that surged through him whenever you were near—a feeling he both cherished and feared.

Where others regarded him with disdain or saw him as a tool to exploit, you were different. You treated him as an equal—not just a mind to use or a name to dismiss. To you, he wasn’t just a product of the Undercity or a man to pity; he was Viktor, and that simple acknowledgment shook him to his core.

You, with your sharp wit that cut through the Council’s endless drivel and eyes that sparked with life—amused one moment, blazing with determination the next. Your unwavering morals and bold resolve set you apart, unafraid to challenge those who clung to their authority and years of experience. It was remarkable how you dared to disrupt the Council’s rigid traditions, despite your new position, fighting for meaningful change. While others tread carefully around power, you confronted it head-on—not for recognition, but to make the world a better place.

The sound of a knock on the laboratory door broke his thoughts. Viktor’s head lifted, his hands pausing as he set aside the circuit he had been meticulously tinkering with. He blinked softly, furrowing his brows, a faint frown forming on his lips.

Who could possibly be knocking at this hour?

"You may come in," Viktor called, his voice clear in the stillness of the lab. Without waiting to see who it was, he turned back to his work, already resuming where he had left off. He couldn’t afford any distractions—not now, not when so much depended on his focus.