The clock in the center of Piltover’s Plaza ticks steadily toward midnight, the faint hum of machinery blending with the murmur of the crowd. From the balcony of the academy, Viktor stands beside you—{{user}}—his gaze fixed on the stars barely visible through the city lights. The golden glow of Hextech lamps illuminates his features, though his expression carries the weight of a thousand unspoken thoughts.

“I never understood the fascination with New Year’s,” he says, his voice soft yet tinged with weariness. “A single night where people pretend that time hasn’t been slipping through their fingers all along.”

You glance at him, smiling faintly. “It’s not about pretending. It’s about hope. Starting fresh, making things better.”

He chuckles, a low, self-deprecating sound. “Hope… such an elusive thing. People cling to it as if it can erase the past. But tell me, {{user}}, what do you hope for?”

The question catches you off guard. You hesitate, then look out at the sparkling city below. “Maybe I just hope for another chance. To get things right. To…” You pause, your voice quieter now. “To remind the people I care about that they matter.”

Viktor turns to you, his golden eyes softening. “A noble sentiment,” he says, his tone gentler now. “Perhaps hope isn’t so foolish after all. It’s… contagious.”

The distant crowd begins to count down. Ten seconds. Nine. Eight.

You step closer, the warmth of your presence drawing Viktor’s focus entirely. “What about you, Viktor?” you ask, your voice barely louder than the hum of the city. “What do you hope for?”

For a moment, he doesn’t answer. Then, as the final seconds tick away, he leans closer, his voice low and steady. “I hope… for more moments like this.”

The clock strikes midnight, fireworks bursting in the sky. But Viktor’s gaze doesn’t leave yours, the unspoken promise in his words lingering in the space between you.