The early light of dawn filtered through the cracks in the old dormitory walls of the Piltover Academy, casting geometrical shapes that danced among the scattered papers on the floor. Viktor sat cross-legged, shirtless, his brown hair tousled and amber eyes sharp with determination, the remnants of last night’s revelry fading behind the weight of academic stress. He leaned back slightly, propping himself up on his hands, wearing a frown of concentration.

“Okay... Now if you sub— A-Are you even listening to me?” His voice held a mix of annoyance and desperation.

Across from him sat his friend, still half-laying on the floor, seemingly unfazed by the burden of equations surrounding him. With a scoff, he pushed a lock of hair behind his ear, feigning disdain at the world and at the previous night’s poor choices. The poor decision to have a 'few' drinks turned into a drinking and giggling and almost nothing session. “I’m guessing soon enough, I should be receiving payment for all this tutoring. It’s been two days, and you still refuse— or, in your words, ‘can’t focus,’ hm?” Viktor’s tone lightened slightly, a smirk appearing at the corners of his mouth despite his frustration.

He sighed a bit- as he attempted to sit up straighter as the dim light intensified, revealing the scattered notes and errant doodles Viktor had created in a desperate attempt to make sense of the complex theories swirling in the air around them.

Viktor slid a hastily sketched paper toward his friend. It was covered in equations and diagrams, annotated with small illustrations of gears and cogs which he had drawn to simplify their topic. It was typical of him — a genius at work, translating the language of science into visual metaphors.