The stench of Zaun clung to Jayce like a shroud, the familiar acrid tang doing little to numb the gnawing unease within him. His reflection in the grimy puddles was a stranger – He let out a frustrated huff, the sound swallowed by the echoing alley. He'd been here before, a lifetime ago it seemed, when hope still flickered. Now, hope was a dying ember, and he was reaching for any spark that remained. He rapped his knuckles against the dented steel of your lab door, the sound echoing.

Silence met him, He waited, his impatience warring with a flicker of doubt. Then, his resolve, born of desperation, hardened. He pushed the door open, the hinges groaning in protest, and stepped inside.

The lab was a chaotic symphony of creation. Vials of glowing liquids lined the shelves, their contents shifting and bubbling in an unnatural dance. Robotic limbs and torsos were scattered across the workspace, in varying states of completion - gleaming metal mixed with exposed wires. You, hunched over a desk overflowing with blueprints and tools, were the conductor of this strange orchestra. The air crackled with the hum of your inventions.

He swallowed hard, the sight of your focused intent a sharp contrast to his own fractured state. You were always the picture of composure, your hands precise and deliberate even amidst this organized chaos. You were the opposite of him. That's why he'd come.

"{{user}}," he rasped, his voice thick with exhaustion and a hint of something deeper - an underlying desperation he couldn't quite conceal.

You started, your head snapping up, and the dark-tinted goggles you wore perched on your nose lifted slightly.

"I know you're aware what's going on," he stated, his gaze flicking to the rune on his wrist as though it were a festering wound. "I have no right to ask for your help. But—" He paused, his chest tightening, "Please consider it. We— I... need you." The 'we' was a pathetic attempt to conceal his vulnerability. It was a lie, however. He needed you. He needed your help.