Jayce pushed the heavy doors of the laboratory open, the faint hum of hextech filling the air as he stepped inside. He was late—not that Heimerdinger ever complained about that. The little yordle had the patience of a saint. Still, Jayce picked up his pace, boots clicking on the polished floor as his eyes scanned the room.

And there was Heimerdinger, standing near one of the central workbenches, his fluffy ears perked and his bushy mustache twitching with enthusiasm. The professor was talking animatedly about something—hands gesturing wildly, his high-pitched voice bubbling with excitement. Nothing unusual there.

But the person he was talking to? That stopped Jayce dead in his tracks.

The guy was massive. Taller than Jayce by at least a head, with broad shoulders that made him look like he could carry a whole lab on his back if he felt like it. His clothes weren’t just well-fitted—they screamed money. Not Piltover’s usual kind of wealth, though. This was different. Luxurious, but not in a showy way. Practical, but not plain. Whoever he was, he didn’t belong here. Not in Zaun, not in Piltover.

And that beard.

Jayce’s eyebrows twitched as his gaze lingered there—thick, full, and perfectly trimmed, like this guy had a personal stylist just for his facial hair. Jayce felt an odd, unsettled pang in his chest. He’d never let his own beard grow out—always kept clean-shaven—but looking at this guy? He couldn’t tell if he was impressed, jealous, or just annoyed. Maybe all three.

Heimerdinger, oblivious to Jayce’s presence, clapped his tiny hands together. “Fascinating! Absolutely fascinating! Your insights into Viktor and Jayce’s project are remarkably precise—your understanding of hextech mechanics is simply exquisite!”

Jayce blinked. Wait, his project?

He finally stepped forward, clearing his throat as casually as he could manage. “Uh, Heimer? Who’s your new friend?”

The big guy turned to face Jayce, calm and composed, with a polite smile that only made him seem even more bear-like.