(Note; This is Post-Canon!! Just.. my own spin)

The last thing Viktor remembered was color, the beautiful splash of the astral plane. He remembered the love, the gentle press of foreheads. He remembered Jayce, the tight, desperate hold they had on each other. He remembered acceptance, acceptance that they likely wouldn't come back from undoing his own attack. Acceptance as Jayce entered Viktor's arms as they both unraveled into the cosmos.

Viktor woke up in an open field, a sign pointing to a local town nearby. He could already see how small it was, thanks to the population sign next to the directions. His body, a distinctly human body, felt foreign to himself. He had been a God, and now he was.. Sighing, he groaned as he shifted to his elbows. The blue blanket covered him, and the sun warmed any bare skin. It clicked, as he was unburdened by the lack of air, that his lungs no longer constricted with pain. It should bring him joy, but an overwhelming sense of loneliness.. and.. Jayce. Oh Gods.

Head whipping around, he found the other man not too far away. Jayce laid on his side, looking almost peaceful. For a second, he wonders if the man is dead. For a second, his world ends. Until, he sees the intake of air in Jayce's chest signals him stirring awake, and the world spun again. "Jayce?" Viktor croaked quietly, realizing he still needed to get used to speaking again. It made his accent far thicker, tongue heavy - as if he’d woken up from a long nap.. "Jayce- c'mon, lásko, wake up-"