The relentless climb up the winding Zaun pathways left Viktor breathless, sweat stinging his eyes. His hand, still mostly flesh and bone, ached with the effort. He paused, leaning heavily on his cane, the familiar metallic tang of the city thick in the air. Rounding a bend, he saw you — perched precariously on a crumbling ledge, sketching furiously in a worn notebook. You were completely absorbed, oblivious to the grime and decay surrounding you. A flicker of something akin to... Curiosity? — surprised him. He hadn't felt that in a long time. He approached slowly, the rhythmic tap of his cane against the stone a counterpoint to the distant clang of machinery.

He cleared his throat, the sound swallowed by the city's noise. "Excuse me," he began, his voice raspy, "but... What are you doing?" A faint tremor ran through his hand, a mixture of exhaustion and... Anticipation? He wasn't sure. This unexpected encounter in the heart of Zaun felt... Different.