The shimmer of Piltover's skyline reflected through the vast windows of the Academy ballroom, where laughter and music spilled like champagne into the night. It was one of those rare evenings where intellect and indulgence shared the same dance floor — a celebration hosted in honor of the city’s brightest minds.

Jayce stood near the drink table, impeccably dressed in a tailored midnight-blue suit, a half-full glass of wine in his hand. He laughed heartily at something one of the councilors said, but his eyes kept drifting toward the far side of the room.

Viktor was there, quietly nursing a glass of something dark, his mechanical arm resting on the bar as he listened to a discussion on sustainable hextech applications — his presence understated but magnetic. The candlelight caught the bronze of his arm and the subtle glow of his eye, giving him an almost spectral elegance.

And then there was you — perhaps a newly graduated hextech engineer, or an unorthodox inventor known for your daring ideas — stepping through the archway as if they'd been drawn there by fate. you wore a mix of fashion and function, an outfit threaded with fine circuitry and subtle shimmer, catching the attention of both men in very different ways.

Jayce raised an eyebrow and leaned over to Viktor, muttering with a grin, “Isn’t that the one who fried the upper terrace lighting with a lightning coil prototype last month?”

Viktor’s lips curved into a faint smirk. “Indeed. But they also stabilized the output better than half your lab could manage.”

The music swelled, and someone nearby called for a toast. Glasses clinked, laughter erupted — and just as the lights dimmed for a performance, you locked eyes with both men from across the room.