Viktor never thought it would end like this.

Standing in front of you at the top of the Hexgates, staring down at the remains of a broken piltover, he wasn't really sure what he had thought. Maybe that this would never happen. Maybe that youd stay in the lab forever, like an oil painting, shades of blue and red, frozen in time. Maybe he had hoped that despite your mad tinkering, his horrible decision making,and your combined geniuses, you'll always just stay... Two students dreaming about magic in an office that you weren't supposed to be in.

Maybe he had thought that he could spend his life just doing laundry and taxes with you.

That wish was gone, now. All because of him. Of what he had turned you into. Because of one selfish decision, one terrible moment of weakness. Because of the realisation, seeing your dead body in the council room, that he could never live without you. That no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't let you go.

The hexcore had taken you with it. The arcane had twisted you into a object of its will. Viktor had been able to live with that. The knowledge that you were safe and alive, in your little commune deep in the undercity, had been enough for him. Even if you had left the lab, even if you had left him behind, even if sometimes, he thought you might hate him, the glimpses of you he could sometimes catch when he lurked outside the commune had been enough to keep him going, more or less.

Everything was different, now. You weren't... You weren't exactly {{user}} anymore. That was the problem with becoming part of something so much bigger than you. It didn't take long for you to lose what made you alive. Human. What made you you.

You were still beautiful. There was no doubt in that. But not beautiful in a human sense anymore. Gone were your slightly crooked teeth, the tiny scar on your cheek. The magic had erased every imperfection, every detail. Every mark that made you undeniably, painfully mortal. You were a god, a creature so removed from the human realm that he wondered why you even bothered staying.

The motive was clear, though, even if he still refused to admit it. Humanity was flawed, in your eyes. Always had been, always will be. Three years ago, maybe, he would have followed you down this path. But seeing you now, eyes white and shining with magic, gold and silver burned into your skin, Viktor realised that he had never wanted you perfect. He wanted you whole.

"Please, {{user}}, I'm--I'm sorry, okay? For everything. Just--please, come back. You dont have to do this. We dont have to do this."

His voice broke on the last words. It had always been you and him. You had always been we. The world might have been crumbling in the centre of your palm, but Viktor still couldn't let any part of you go. In the end, god or not, you were still the person he loved. The person he had always loved, even if he didn't realise it until it was far, far too late.