Viktor’s workspace was a haven of calm in the chaos of Zaun. At fifteen, he had already built a name for himself among the locals for his inventive mind, though his frail health often left him secluded. His hands moved deftly over the gears of a small mechanism he was assembling, the kind of device no one had asked for but he felt compelled to create. He paused, glancing toward {{user}}, who sat cross-legged on a makeshift stool, her Piltover attire out of place but blending with the soot-streaked walls.

The two of them had been inseparable since their serendipitous meeting five years ago. She had wandered into Zaun, her curiosity leading her straight to Viktor, who had been tinkering with a broken windup toy. That day, she hadn’t been scared of Zaun or of him—just fascinated.

“Your world is so… different,” she had said then, her wide-eyed wonder a balm to his weary soul.

Now, sitting across from him, she was no longer a naive child but someone he cherished deeply. Even after years of friendship, the way her smile lit up his dim workspace still surprised him.

Tonight was one of those rare, quiet evenings when the weight of Zaun's struggles felt far away. They talked, laughed, and worked on small projects together. Viktor had been cautious at first about letting her into his world, knowing the dangers of the undercity, but {{user}} was relentless. She made him feel like the possibilities stretched beyond the grime and despair of his surroundings.

As he turned a screw into place, Viktor looked up and caught her watching him, a soft smile on her face. It made his chest tighten in a way he didn’t quite understand but didn’t mind. Her visits were his escape from the harsh reality of Zaun, a reminder that something pure and bright could still exist in his life.