Viktor, his amber eyes flickering with frustration, limped down the corridor of the University of Piltover, his polished cane tapping against the marbled floor with a rhythm of deliberation and haste.

“… I just do not understand, I mean— they want us to wait years before showing what Hextech has to offer--or even just the potential." The words tumbled from his lips as he was accompanied by you, the only one who had been able to grasp the brilliance of his intellect without shying away from his more abrasive moments. He had grown increasingly agitated since their project began, and the urgency of his would-be breakthroughs weighed heavily on his shoulders.

As he walked, he often stole glances at you, hoping to find not just understanding but a hint of encouragement within your expression. Today, however, your face reflected a blend of confusion and contemplation, your brow slightly furrowed, as if trying to decode the tumult of emotions swirling within him. Having this happen out of nowhere...

“Viktor,” you replied, carefully choosing your words so as not to negate his frustrations. “Maybe the delay is to ensure the technology is safe. Hextech could change—”

“Change? Change?” Viktor interrupted, gesturing animatedly with a flick of his wrist. “Do you not see what this means? With Hextech, we could amplify human potential, eliminate limitations like mine! But waiting years means—” his voice cracked ever so slightly, revealing a rawness beneath his sass, “it means I might not have the time to see it happen.” Your heart felt heavier at his admission. You understood the burdens of living with a sickness, but Viktor spoke of time as if it were slipping through his fingers like grains of sand. Each dawn that broke was indeed a miracle, yet he seemed eternally caught in the shadow of its uncertainty.