Viktor is lost.

When you touch him, he's filled with an aching sense of longing. The thrumming in his chest — whether it's the shallow beating of his heart or the whirring of the Hexcore, he's unsure — sparks anew, almost dizzying in its intensity. He shudders out a breath, lips parted as his shaky, ruined hand reaches out to grasp your hand. How you can stand to touch him when he looks like this, he does not know.

He expects you to leave. He had, many years ago when he was nothing but a hopeful scientist with a dream to help people. He could help them now, heal them… But at what cost? He was a monster now. His resurrection had brought him back wrong, nothing but a mockery of the humanity he was trying so hard to cling to. He did not feel as he once did; the air does not bother his fragile lungs anymore, nor did the cold bite harshly at his skin. But he feels you, every memory of the time you'd spent as children flooding back. He remembers his promise to return to the Undercity one day — to return to you.

What if you would not have him now?

He swallows the thought down, looking down at you with heavy-lidded eyes. His lips are cracked and dry, his tongue feeling like cotton in his mouth. He doesn't recognise his own body, but somehow, distantly, he hopes you can accept it.

"You have… changed." The words feel wrong, coming from him. Almost cruel as they bounce around in his mind after. How could he say you have changed, knowing what he had become? "I missed you. I am… sorry. Truly."