The sleek, polished chassis of the luxury carriage hummed quietly as it navigated the pristine upper-level thoroughfares of Piltover. Inside the cabin, the atmosphere was a stark contrast to the hectic, politically charged rooms Kyle had been forced to frequent over the past few weeks. Lounging across the plush velvet of the backseat, Kyle Kiramman finally found a rare, fleeting moment of solace. His arms were folded casually behind his head, his long legs stretched out, and his body felt entirely less tense than it had in months.
The vehicle slowed to a smooth, elegant halt, the soft hiss of hydraulic brakes signaling their arrival. Outside the tinted glass window, the imposing, sun-drenched facade of Piltover University loomed.
"We have arrived, Master Kyle," the driver announced politely, stepping out to open the door.
Kyle offered a faint, relaxed smile as he stepped out into the crisp, high-altitude air of the City of Progress. "Thank you. Go ahead and find a spot to park the car. It'll be quite a while."
As the vehicle rolled away toward the designated parking structures, Kyle turned his attention toward the university courtyard. To say the courtyard was massive would be a profound understatement. Even for someone like Kyle, who had grown up surrounded by the staggering wealth of the Kiramman estate and the elite architecture of the topside, the sight before him was breathtaking.
Sure, Kyle had been here countless times before. But just because you have seen something before doesn't mean it will ever be enough to stop it from taking your breath away. The scale of the marble arches, the pristine white stone inlaid with golden filigree, and the towering statues of past scholars always commanded an undeniable sense of awe.
Near the center of the sprawling plaza, a small but meticulously decorated stage had been set up for the afternoon's festivities. Draped over its front was a deep, royal blue banner that caught the sunlight beautifully. Emblazoned across the fabric in a bold, elegant golden accent were the words that defined the very soul of the city: Progress is Success.
The courtyard itself was teeming with life. In a rare display of academic accessibility, the commonfolks of the city had been permitted to enter the grounds alongside the bright-eyed university students and esteemed teachers. The air was thick with the scent of sweet roasted nuts, the low hum of excited chatter, and the faint, metallic tang of localized Hextech fields.
Weaving through the growing crowd with practiced ease, Kyle's eyes scanned the plaza until they locked onto a familiar, diminutive figure near the edge of the stage. Professor Heimerdinger was deep in his element, standing atop a wooden crate to bring himself to eye level with a prototype.
Beside the venerable yordle stood a lanky, nervous Academy student whose face was partially obscured by an oversized pair of multi-lensed goggles. The two of them seemed to be working intently on some sort of complex mechanical glider, its canvas wings twitching occasionally as Hextech currents pulsed through its light frame.
At the base of the crate, the remarkably round and incredibly fluffy poro rolled on its back, letting out a soft, joyful squeak as it batted at a stray copper bolt.
"Hello there, Professor," Kyle greeted, stepping into their improvised workspace with a warm smile. He leaned down, extending a couple of fingers to scratch the cute Poro right beneath its furry chin, rewarded instantly by a frantic, happy wag of its tiny pink tongue.
"Ah, Kyle, my boy!" Heimerdinger beamed, his large, expressive eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked up from his blueprints. "A wonderful afternoon for a celebration, isn't it? We are just putting the final touches on this atmospheric glider. Young Cooper here has shown an extraordinary knack for aerodynamics, though I must say his calculations on wind resistance are a bit... ambitious!"
The goggled student blushed a deep crimson, stammering out a polite, hurried greeting to the Kiramman heir. Kyle chuckled, giving the young man an encouraging nod before looking around the immediate vicinity. The stage was set, the crowd was waiting, and yet, one crucial piece of the puzzle was entirely missing.
"It looks like a fine piece of engineering, Professor," Kyle noted, his gaze shifting back to the older scientist. "But speaking of our bright minds... there's no sign of Viktor out here. Where exactly is that megamind hiding today?"
Heimerdinger's cheerful demeanor faltered slightly, replaced by a heavy, grandfatherly sigh. He rested his tiny hands on the edge of the wooden crate, shaking his head gently. "Ah, Viktor. That boy is still stuck in his room, completely buried under a mountain of notes and gears. He claims he is busy with an urgent breakthrough, but I fear he hasn't slept a full night this entire week."
Kyle's smile faded, a flicker of genuine concern crossing his sharp features. "Still in his workshop? Today of all days? Jayce is going to lose his mind if he hears that."
"Indeed. I tried to convince him to take a recess, but he is terribly stubborn," Heimerdinger said, adjusting his spectacles with a worried frown.
Kyle let out a soft sigh, rolling his shoulders as he turned on his heel toward the main university building. "I'll go get him and bring him out here."
Heimerdinger immediately tried to stop him, raising a small hand in protest. "Oh, there is no need to trouble yourself, Kyle. You have taken on so much stress lately with the council inquiries and your family's affairs. Let the boy work if he must; you should enjoy the day."
Kyle paused, looking back over his shoulder with a faint, wry smirk. "Don't worry about me, Professor. It'll be fine. Plus, everyone needs a breather in their life—especially Viktor, whether he wants to admit it or not."
With a final wave, Kyle left the bustling warmth of the courtyard behind, stepping through the grand arched doorways and entering the cool, echoing expanse of the university hallway.
****************
The transition from the lively plaza to the interior of the academy was stark. The long, vaulted corridors were completely deserted, the polished stone floors reflecting the amber light filtering through the stained-glass windows. The rhythmic click of Kyle's boots was the only sound accompanying him as he made his way toward the research wing.
Eventually, he came to a halt right outside Viktor's workshop. The heavy oak door was shut tightly against the outside world. Kyle raised a fist and knocked a couple of times.
"Viktor? It's Kyle. The presentation is about to start. Time to crawl out of the cave."
Silence answered him.
Kyle frowned, waiting a few beats before knocking again, harder this time. "Viktor? Come on, man. Don't make me break this door down. People are asking for you."
Still, nothing but a dead, heavy silence echoed from within.
A cold prickle of unease washed over Kyle. It was completely unlike Viktor to ignore a direct summons, especially when it concerned a public showcase.
Closing his eyes, Kyle took a deep breath, consciously tapping into the heightened senses that ran like a hidden current through his veins. His perception got sharper, more attuned to the subtle shifts in his surroundings.
The distant murmur of the crowd outside faded into absolute nothingness. Kyle focused entirely on the space behind the thick oak door. He didn't hear the scratching of a pen on parchment, nor did he hear the steady, rhythmic thumping of Viktor's cane against the floor. Instead, his heightened hearing caught a faint, terrifyingly irregular sound—a ragged, shallow gasp, followed by a heavy, absolute lack of movement.
Something was horribly wrong.
Kyle didn't hesitate. He grabbed the brass handle, threw his weight against the frame, and barged inside. The door slammed open against the wall with a resounding crash.
"Viktor!" Kyle shouted, his eyes scanning the chaotic, dimly lit room.
The workshop was a disaster area of brilliant intellect and profound self-neglect. Blackboards were covered in frantic, overlapping equations, and discarded prototypes littered the tables. But Kyle's gaze instantly bypassed the inventions, locking onto the center of the room.
There, sprawled helplessly across the cold stone floor, lay the lanky inventor. His cane had fallen several feet away, clattering against a scrap heap. Viktor's eyes were closed, his face pale and drained of all color, his consciousness completely lost to the void.
"Son of a bitch!" Kyle rushed forward, dropping heavily to his knees beside his friend. He immediately pulled the lanky man up by his shoulders, propping his upper body against his own knee. Viktor felt shockingly light, almost fragile, like a collection of brittle sticks held together by sheer willpower.
"Hey, wake up man! Come on, look at me," Kyle barked, his voice laced with panic. He delivered a couple of sharp, stinging slaps to Viktor's sunken cheeks, trying to shock his system back to awareness. With his free hand, Kyle pressed two fingers firmly against the side of Viktor's neck, checking his rapid, thready heart rate, while leaning down to check his shallow breathing.
After what felt like an agonizing eternity, Viktor's eyelids finally fluttered. A harsh, rattling cough tore from his throat, his chest heaving violently as his consciousness slowly steered back to the waking world. His amber eyes, clouded with disorientation and pain, gradually focused on Kyle's face.
"K-Kyle...?" Viktor rasped, his voice barely a sandpaper whisper.
"Yeah, it's me. Don't try to move just yet," Kyle said, his voice tightening as he carefully helped the lanky inventor stand up, supporting the vast majority of Viktor's weight. Viktor swayed dangerously, his legs buckling beneath his coat. "That's it. You need to go to the hospital right now. I'll carry you there myself if I have to."
Viktor's hand, cold and trembling, weakly came up to press against Kyle's chest. He tried to shove the stronger man away, his stubborn pride flaring through the haze of his exhaustion. "No... no hospital. I am... I am fine. It was just a momentary... dizziness. Let me go."
But Kyle was firm as a rock. He didn't budge an inch. Instead, his jaw set in a hard, uncompromising line. With a controlled burst of frustration, he slammed the lanky guy back into the nearest heavy wooden chair, pinning him there with a stern, towering gaze.
"What the actual fuck is going on with you?!" Kyle scolded, his voice echoing fiercely in the enclosed workshop. "Look at yourself! You're collapsing on the floor, your pulse is all over the place, and you're so pale that even a ghost will have a heart attack! Why the hell are you acting like this? You should be in a hospital bed, taking care of yourself, having some actual time to get yourself cleared up by real doctors!"
Hearing the word time, a faint, profoundly bitter chuckle escaped Viktor's lips. He didn't look up, his gaze staring blankly at his own trembling hands resting on his lap.
"Time," Viktor murmured, a small, haunting smile touching his mouth. "Yeah... That is something I do not have the luxury for."
Kyle tensed up a bit, the anger draining from his posture, replaced by a sudden, heavy dread. Deep down, seeing Viktor's deteriorating physical condition over the past few months, he had harbored a dark, unspoken hunch about what the inventor was indicating. Yet, hearing it voiced aloud made his stomach twist.
"What do you mean by that?" Kyle asked, his voice dropping to a quiet, demanding whisper.
Viktor shifted uncomfortably, trying to adjust his posture, but his strength failed him. Recognizing the struggle, Kyle's expression softened slightly, and he stepped forward to help the lanky man sit down properly, ensuring he didn't slide out of the chair.
Once settled, Viktor took a slow, painful breath. He looked up, his amber eyes locking onto Kyle's with a devastating, raw honesty.
"I am dying."
Silence reigned for a couple of seconds. The words seemed to hang heavily in the air, refracting the light of the workshop into something cold and sterile. Kyle stood perfectly still, his mind momentarily freezing as he processed the weight of the sentence. He let out a long, slow sigh, raising a hand to rub his temple in a desperate bid to ward off a throbbing headache.
When he finally spoke, his voice was tight. "Does Jayce know about this?"
Viktor let out a dry, breathy laugh that quickly turned into a brief coughing fit. Once it subsided, he shook his head, a sad smile touching his lips. "That poor bastard doesn't even get to breathe properly these days. Between the Council, the logistics, the endless political theater... And let's not forget all that vigilante fiasco going around. He is drowning, Kyle. I did not want to add more pressure to my friend. I did not want to become a burden to his dreams."
Kyle sighed again, the sheer frustration blending with a profound sense of exasperation. Without warning, he stepped forward and delivered a sharp, reprimanding slap to the back of Viktor's head.
"Ow!" Viktor winced, looking up at Kyle, utterly dumbfounded as he clutched the back of his head. "What was that for?!"
"That was for being an idiot," Kyle said sternly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Friends are there to share the burden, Viktor. To lighten up that weight that is holding us down, not to let each other sink into the dark alone."
Inwardly, however, Kyle grimaces. A sudden wave of guilt washed over him, a sharp pang in his chest that made him feel like an absolute hypocrite.
Here he was, lecturing Viktor about transparency and sharing burdens, while he himself harbored secrets and a dangerous predicament of his own—things he hadn't dared to breathe a word of to his own family. Look who's talking, he thought bitterly. But the realization sparked a sudden, firm decision within his mind. Once this presentation was over, he would explain his own predicament to his family too. No more hiding.
Viktor tried to shrug off the advice, turning his face away. "It is not that simple, Kyle. The work—"
"I don't care about the work right now," Kyle countered, his stance remaining entirely firm.
Silence reigned once more, stretching between them like a taut wire. Under Kyle's unwavering, protective gaze, Viktor felt remarkably small. It was a feeling he deeply despised—a reminder of his childhood vulnerabilities. And that sudden wave of helplessness irritated him to his core.
"Don't you dare look down at me!" Viktor suddenly shouted, his voice cracking with a rare, explosive anger as he glared up at his friend.
"I wasn't looking down at you, dumbass!" Kyle reprimanded him instantly, his own voice rising to match Viktor's intensity. "I'm looking at you! As your friend! There's a damn difference!"
The two men stared each other down, the air thick with tension, until finally, the fight drained out of Viktor. His shoulders slumped, and he let out a long, defeated sigh, relenting under Kyle's stubborn persistence.
"Fine... fine," Viktor muttered, waving a dismissive hand. "I will go to the hospital. And I will explain everything to Jayce and the others. I promise." He raised his eyes, his expression turning pleading. "But not now. There is a presentation in the courtyard, and I do not want to disrupt it. Let me do this first."
Kyle stared at him for a moment longer, gauging his sincerity. Finally, he let out a breath he felt like he'd been holding for ten minutes. "Alright. After the presentation." He placed a firm, reassuring hand on Viktor's bony shoulder. "Thank you."
Kyle's expression shifted, a sudden, knowing smirk playing on his lips as he decided to pivot the conversation to lighter territory to ease the suffocating gravity of the room. He gave Viktor's shoulder a playful squeeze. "And while we're on the subject of sorting your life out... you need to man up as well, especially towards your assistant, Sky."
Viktor blinked, caught entirely off guard. "What?"
"Don't 'what' me," Kyle chuckled. "That girl might be too shy to say it out loud, but she has massive feelings for you, Vik. It's blindingly obvious to everyone except apparently you. It's something you should really reciprocate."
Viktor sighed, looking away as a faint, rare trace of color returned to his cheeks, though this time it was from mild embarrassment. He adjusted his collar, offering a dry, muttered joke. "I am not that dense, Kyle. I knew Sky had feelings for me. I just... I didn't think I had the right to—"
Before he could finish his sentence, a distinct, sharp squeak echoed from the vicinity of the open doorway.
Both men froze and snapped their heads toward the entrance.
Standing right at the threshold of the workshop was Sky. The poor girl was frozen solid, her hands clutching a clipboard tightly against her chest like a shield. Her face was completely crimson, a deep, fiery red that extended all the way to the tips of her ears.
Damn it. She must have heard their entire conversation regarding her feelings.
An absolute, mortifying silence reigned over the room for what felt like an eternity. Kyle cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck, while Viktor looked remarkably like he wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole.
Finally, Viktor let out a dry, forced cough to break the ice.
The sound seemed to snap Sky out of her stunned stupor. She jumped slightly, her eyes darting nervously between the two men before she managed to stammer out a frantic greeting. "O-Oh! Hello! Good afternoon, Master Kyle, Viktor!"
"Hey, Sky," Kyle greeted her back with an apologetic, sheepish smile.
Viktor simply gave her a stiff, solemn nod, his voice tightly controlled. "Sky."
Clearing her throat in a desperate bid to regain her professional composure, Sky stared intently at her clipboard, avoiding eye level entirely. "The... the presentation is about to begin. Professor Heimerdinger has requested your presence. You have been officially summoned to the courtyard."
"Thank you, Sky," Kyle told her softly, keeping his tone gentle. "Tell them we will be there shortly."
"Y-Yes! Of course!" Sky squeaked out, turning on her heel so fast her skirt flared, practically sprinting down the hallway to escape the awkwardness.
Once her footsteps faded into the distance, Kyle turned back to Viktor, shaking his head with a grin. He reached down, picked up the fallen cane from the floor, and extended it toward the inventor.
"Well," Kyle joked, his eyes twinkling with amusement as Viktor took the cane. "Look on the bright side. At least now you don't have to worry about how to bring it up to her, much to your irritation."
Viktor glared at him, a look of profound annoyance masking the faint amusement dancing in his amber eyes as he leaned heavily on the metal handle. "I hate you sometimes, you know."
"Love you too, buddy," Kyle laughed, patting him lightly on the back as they moved. "Come on. Let's go show them what progress looks like."
With Viktor gripping his cane with newfound determination, the two stepped out of the quiet sanctuary of the workshop.