Chapter Text
Jayce knew the moment the package came to the lab, bearing his name and his name alone, that they’d done it again. After months and months of alterations and arguments, pestering and persisting in pointless cycles,
The publishers decidedly, definitively left out Viktor’s name from the Hexgates’ designs once more.
Jayce tore the seal open and scanned the front page. Crestfallen, he could do little more than glare at the manuscript, the blocky script utilizing their designs and their sketches on the front cover, The Hexgates: Concept and Design by Jayce Talis making a mockery of the frustration they’d endured over the past several weeks. The irony of it all was that Viktor had penciled in those fine details with his own hand, after Jayce drew the rough outline, transforming the schema to a work of art. Jayce flipped through the pages: the formulas, the figures, the data, results, and discussions—
His partner’s entire presence was woven into every page, every line of text a testament of their teamwork, their shared passions, dreams, and genius.
And yet, they left him out.
Jayce leaned back, the chair’s support creaking against the weight of Jayce’s turmoil: a cold emptiness being slowly filled with molten frustration. The only saving grace in that moment was that his partner had taken a rare day off to meet some unspoken obligation.
Even in his absence, the proof of Viktor’s enduring endeavors was scattered all throughout the lab: half the chalkboard was written in his hand; the rolling chair next to Jayce’s was stationed in front of his workstation, tools left untouched from where Viktor reluctantly surrendered to the call of sustenance and slumber and called it a night.
Every inch of their lab was evidence of Viktor's integral role in Hextech. Yet, there were many that simply overlooked that fact.
It was the same song and dance for years now.
In the beginning, the excuses gave credence: the publishing and accrediting bodies cited lack of official documentation and record of Viktor’s schooling and credentials. After all, without a House name and sponsorship, it was simply too difficult to grant Viktor authorship of such prominent work without definitive proof of his respectability as a scientist. All this was said despite Viktor having attended Piltover Academy, graduating at the top of his class, and having worked as the Dean’s assistant—
Viktor had just never officially enrolled. He told Jayce that he joined the Academy one day, showing up to Professor Heimerdinger’s lecture in a uniform his parents bought him, and devoted his time in the institution to learning all he could, thriving on hard work and natural brilliance. He was eventually discovered by Professor Heimerdinger and was made his assistant due to the potential he saw in Viktor, and that was that.
At least, until it suddenly became pertinent in publications. Further investigation into Viktor’s background overlooked his accomplishments; it seemed like the glaring space after Viktor’s name was the only piece of information that the publishers latched onto.
Jayce could comb through every sentence, every sketch, every line, word, punctuation mark and find where Viktor had been on this document, the numerous nights and countless hours poring over the manuscript, sleepless and force-fed cheap takeout by an equally exhausted Jayce by his side,
But to the publishers, it was easier for them to simply pretend that Viktor didn’t exist.
Jayce had painstakingly cited Viktor’s contributions with spectacular detail in the diagrams of the Hexheart—the very core of the Hexgates—but with equal vehemence, the editors had erased Viktor’s name as part of the necessary modifications before official submission.
It was infuriating, and deep down,
It was demoralizing.
Jayce sighed. He flipped the manuscript back to the cover page. “Viktor even named it…”
It had been Jayce that waffled at the title. He wanted something grand, something memorable, snappy and catchy, showcasing succinct genius—
“Hexgates,” Viktor offered with a shrug. “It’s simple. It’s memorable. It has our branding.”
And what else could Jayce say to that?
After all this time spent on translating the concept from chalkboard dust to the towering gates now situating their new lab, it seemed almost ridiculous that this issue had only come up now.
Professor Heimerdinger had been skeptical of the whole process, but started to warm after seeing the raw data. The maths showcased flawless engineering and smaller models provided large data points of successful trials. His mentorship and critiques throughout the entire process had been invaluable—especially given his reservations of magic-related subjects.
If only he’d been as helpful with getting Viktor’s name in the paper.
Professor Heimerdinger had been willing to write letters of exemption, citing that Viktor had excelled in his classes and was given permission to attend, and even received his official Doctorate, but for the publishers, it had never been enough.
Jayce broached the subject of Viktor’s exclusion to the Professor in the past, but the Professor had been adamant that even as Dean, Councilor, and Founder of their great city and Academy, he too must adhere to the scientific community’s governing bodies. At the time, he folded his hands and shrugged, deferring authority, selectively powerless to issue any further demands. Yes, Professor Heimerdinger had taken Viktor on as his student and had appointed him as his assistant because he saw the lad had potential, but even he couldn’t grant him what the publishers really wanted:
A title that marked him worthy of credit. Of his credentialing. Of his work. Of his intellect and genius.
A House name, to showcase the necessity of sponsorship and the system’s contribution to greatness in Piltover.
The realization dawned on Jayce then.
“A sponsorship. A family name to take him on.” The shadows in the lab remained quiet. Perhaps reserving their judgment. Perhaps resonating their approval with the new path Jayce rigged,
Engineered out of little more than desperation and a sense of indignation on his partner’s behalf: “What if I find one for him?”
Jayce knew that Hextech’s success would open doors, windows of opportunity, more than just glimpses of glittering worlds of galas and grandeur.
It brought Jayce to their biggest supporters yet:
The richest woman in all of Piltover.
And if anyone had their finger on the pulse of the elites and nobles, the best fit solution for their predicament, it would be Mel Medarda.
Audience in Mel’s office with all its finery still made Jayce feel out of place. Elora led him in, announcing his presence before courteously shutting the door. Jayce idled momentarily, hands behind his back in his usual polite posture—if only to keep his hands from wringing in anxiety. But Mel had welcomed him with her polite demeanor. She welcomed him to a seat before her desk. Astute as always, she sensed his visit had a lot less to do with the success and grand opening of the Hexgates,
But rather the turmoil that surrounded its publication.
“It seems you have a question on your mind.” She steepled her fingers and leaned forward. “Go on then.”
She listened as Jayce presented the primary problem, the chief concern, and nodded and hummed in thought as Jayce proposed an ideal solution,
And prodded for her integral insight.
She nodded, her stance imposing and imperial. Jayce felt the knots in his stomach tighten. That look on Mel’s face was never a good sign. “It’s…a precarious situation,” she started.
Jayce tried not to let his face fall as he maintained his cordial smile. “What…what do you mean?”
Even when said smile wobbled precariously from his lips, about to spill onto the floor with disappointment as Mel continued: “I mean the proposal of a sponsorship. Especially a sponsorship for a man in a position like Viktor’s.”
Jayce furrowed his brows. He knew the situation was—unusual, at best, but it shouldn’t be that difficult given their success,
Right?
“As you know, sponsorships are arranged in contracts, but that also means that the House taking him can bargain to have certain…liberties.” Mel drew out the last word with intention as she folded her hands before her. “Certain…authorities.”
Her meaning rang loud and clear: “You’re saying they can control him.”
Mel sighed. “Anyone in the realm of business would.” Jayce felt his heart drop like a stone. “The Kirammans paid for your education, your lab, sending monthly stipends in exchange for the promise of a cut of your future profits had they continued to fund your endeavors.”
Jayce nodded, swallowing hard. It was one of the happiest days of his life, obtaining that sponsorship. That he, from a smaller House whose greatest contribution to progress up until his time was the collapsible pocket-wrench, could be funded by one of the most powerful families in all of Piltover.
It was a dream come true.
And yet—
“Viktor is no longer in such a position. He is an established scientist and co-founder of one of the most profitable and expanding markets with the technology your company has developed.” Jayce had been right to approach Mel; she’d always been the realist between the three of them. And she was never shy in providing the hard truth: that progress wasn’t commandeered by dreams, brilliance, and hard work—of which Jayce and Viktor had in abundance. “It would no doubt impinge on his freedom and with Hextech already being the famed entity it is…”
Progress was commandeered by profit.
“But we already have funding!” Jayce blurted, his frustration mounting. “Investors are flocking to us! Especially after the Hexgates’ debut!”
“Money can come from anywhere,” Mel firmly reminded him. “But what you’re demanding is something only they can provide. And it’s something that will be clear to them that you’re desperate to have.” Jayce lowered his gaze to the floor, the jewel-toned rug before him threatening to combust from the intensity of his glare. Jayce wouldn’t be quite so desperate to have it if it weren’t something that his partner wholly deserved.
Recognition,
Respect,
His name, right there next to Jayce’s, where it belonged:
As his partner.
“It’s simple supply and demand, the heart of markets and negotiation. For such a unique situation, they can set the price.” Mel’s soft voice did little to cushion the hard truth. “The question is whether or not that’s something you’re willing to risk.”
The answer was as simple as the truth was difficult to swallow: “…No. Not right now.” Jayce shook his head, lifting his gaze to meet Mel’s eyes; a look rife with misery and exhaustion. “We spent so long on making the Hexgates. Viktor and I wanted to focus on our real goal: bringing magic to the common people.” In fact, Viktor was likely in the lab right now, working on the first diagrams and schemas for functioning prototypes. “Our next project was set on tools and machinery for miners and masonry workers.”
“How admirable,” Mel commended. “And yet highly unprofitable.”
Jayce sent her a wry smile. “Thanks.”
“I’m only warning you what you may encounter.” Something like sympathy flitted through her controlled expression. “And…sometimes, accepting the realities of situations like Viktor’s.”
Except breaking through limitations presented to them was precisely why two brilliant scientists started tapping into the impossibilities and mysteries of magic in the first place. “If we did that, Hextech would have never gotten off the ground.” Jayce straightened his posture, running an analysis of names Jayce could potentially trust with his partner.
Only one came to mind,
Even if the odds were slim-to-none.
Seeing as the brilliant scientist Jayce Talis had no intention of heeding her warning, Mel sighed. “Then perhaps…the way forward is to take matters into your own hands.”
Jayce nodded, a determined fire in his eyes. “Thank you. I won’t fail.”
A fire that was quickly extinguished by the time he departed the esteemed Medarda estate.
Jayce knew he should be at the lab by now. Come tomorrow, he’d be presenting the accepted publication to his partner and their team. It was a big accomplishment; their crowning achievement, the prized pinnacle of their careers thus far—
And yet it was so miserably mired in what Jayce could only perceive as a personal failure to his partner. He didn’t want to give Viktor the same outcome as previous versions. Again and again, the denial of authorship, the denial of credit for all his contributions—
The denial that Viktor was just as important to Hextech as Jayce was.
There might still be hope—there had to be. There had to be someone they could trust. Someone that could support his partner the way he deserved to.
Jayce stopped the carriage before it turned down the street towards the Hexgates and gave another set of directions, knowing it was a longshot but knowing Jayce would never forgive himself if he didn’t take the chance.
“Jayce…” Cassandra Kiramman started. She’d set her cup down the ornate saucer in front of her. Steam billowed out from the lip wafting a soothing, floral scent throughout the ornately decorated sitting room. Fresh flowers decorated the table between them, adding to the sweetness. The more Jayce focused on the calming aromas, the less he bounced his leg in unease.
Which was especially needed when contending with Councilor Kiramman.
Her expression was already mildly soured by the time Jayce had finished his explanations. “I don’t fully understand what it is you’re proposing here—”
“A sponsorship,” Jayce reiterated, watching a frown etch on her face as his heart plummeted. “For Viktor.”
“Yes, I heard you, but—” Cassandra’s brows furrowed in much the same way Mel’s had, which Jayce was quickly starting to realize was an aristocrat’s stamp of disapproval. “I don’t believe that would be in…either of our best interests.”
And there it was.
The polite, yet firm rejection that Jayce had imagined himself prepared for. It wasn’t unexpected; negotiating with Councilor Kiramman had always been a hazardous venture, yet the reality of her outright refusal left Jayce grasping at nothing as the ground erupted into a maw beneath him.
Why?
What could be so damning against offering his partner the same support that Cassandra Kiramman herself gave him all those years ago? Especially when Viktor and Jayce had the success to back their worth—
“Especially with the…concerning details that you’ve given,” Cassandra stated, waving in vague gestures, skirting the conversation expertly
Straight into Jayce’s affront. “What?” A deep slice cut straight through his chest. “What concerning details—”
“He attended Piltover Academy illegally,” Cassandra repeated with a steely glare.
“He was permitted by Professor Heimerdinger himself!” Jayce defended. “He graduated at the top of his class! He was Professor Heimerdinger’s assistant for years!”
He’s my partner! Jayce wanted to roar, but even he knew that held little credence.
Not to Councilor Kiramman. “And I understand that, Jayce.” Placation was a politician’s game. Perhaps Jayce was too stubborn to fall for its allure. “It’s not easy for people like him to gain the aid he needed, but as a Councilor, I cannot overlook this—”
The slice had been torn open to a deep, deep tear. “People like him?”
Cassandra’s mouth set into a firm line. She kept her gaze steady after a breath to collect herself. “The publishers have the final say in this, Jayce, and I’m…inclined to agree with their decision.” Cassandra appeared calm, composed, collected, as if she hadn’t just deeply and thoughtlessly insulted the very integrity of the other half of Jayce’s work—the other half of Jayce’s life. “The Hexgates are a shining example of Piltover, and are representative of not only our accomplishments as The City of Progress, but a symbol of who we are.” She held her chin up high, placing a hand over her chest, “We cannot allow it to be tainted with—”
And missing earnestly and honesty by just a few inches to the left.
“Viktor built half of the Hexgates!” Jayce was vaguely aware he’d lost control of the volume of his voice. “It was his genius, efforts, blood, sweat and tears that made it possible!”
But Cassandra was never one to back down and never missed an opportunity to cut an opponent down to size with a single, authoritative glare. “Under your guidance, yes. And under your name as the creator of Hextech—”
“Co-creator,” he reminded in what could only be vaguely described as a hiss. “Viktor is Hextech’s creator too.”
The tea had cooled; the floral scent had gone stale in the room. Cassandra placed her hands primly in front of her, folded fingers laced together in perfect poise. “Yes. And he will be commemorated alongside you.”
Behind you, is what she meant.
Because after this, the rest of Piltover—
The rest of the world,
Will only be looking at Jayce.
Jayce hung his head low, taking in a deep breath and swallowing the bitter taste of defeat as it burned his throat. The words themselves tasted of bile. “…so that’s a no, then?”
Cassandra nodded, looking far less apologetic than her words would lead him to believe. “I’m afraid so, Jayce.”
One roadblock after another.
Jayce felt turmoil stirring in his gut. Added alongside that nauseating cocktail was despair.
People like him…
Cassandra’s words echoed in his head. Refined. Poised. Neutral. Disgusted. Her hesitance, the publisher’s rejections, the ongoing struggles for acceptance, to give Viktor even a crumb of credit where it was due—
All of this is because Viktor was a Zaunite.
And the reality of it cracked Jayce’s heart in two. He truly believed Piltover was the City of Progress, where all people came together to push humanity towards a brighter tomorrow, a brighter future for all. And yet, at every turn, Viktor stood the risk of exploitation or rejection. Viktor, his brilliant, stubborn, obsessively meticulous, and unbearably kind partner…was believed in to be undeserving of credit for his work,
All because of his heritage.
It was late now. But knowing Viktor, he was still at the lab,
Likely waiting for Jayce.
Something deeper than guilt sat heavy in his stomach.
He thought it might be shame.
“Jayce!”
He turned to the call and the approaching footfalls against the stone walkway.
It was always a delight seeing Caitlyn. She’d devoted much of her time towards her Enforcer training and honing her skills, and Jayce was as proud of her as he was worried for her safety. But judging from her disheartened demeanor and hesitancy, Jayce figured she wasn’t about to fill him in on her latest misadventures.
“Eavesdropping again, sprout?” He managed a smile at the tiny shrug he received in response.
“Naturally.” Caitlyn sighed, her natural empathy bandage to the bullet wound of the entire situation. “I’m…I’m sorry, Jayce. You know I’d help if I could.”
Jayce shook his head. “It’s not on you, Cait…”
The pair approached a base of a towering pillar of the Kiramman Estate gates, an earshot away from the guards making their rounds. Caitlyn, far too tall now to fit snugly against its nook as she did when she was a child, leaned against the cool stone as Jayce sat beside her.
The silence between them stretched on, and Caitlyn bore its tension patiently. Jayce leaned forward, his arms resting on his lap, when he finally spoke. “When we received that first draft back of the publication, I thought it was a typo, or something.” In fact, Jayce hadn’t even noticed right away. It was Viktor’s silence and the quiet, measured breaths that he took that gave it away. “But Viktor knew.” Jayce’s mouth twisted to a scowl. “He knew immediately. And he knew they’d keep denying putting his name on the publication.”
“Oh…” Caitlyn searched for an appropriate response. “There must be someone you can talk to—”
“I tried that with the past two edits.” Jayce sighed. “They’re stubborn about it. Holding his past like that against him. They want a Piltover name attached to him, to make him…” Less Zaunite. “Look like a good representation of Piltover. To make him look worthy of the accomplishment. But a sponsorship runs the risk of another House controlling our future projects. And…I’ll be honest, Cait…” Jayce’s leg bounced with agitation. “I don’t trust many others with Viktor.”
“Couldn’t your House sponsor him?” she offered.
Jayce grimaced. “It was the first thing I tried.” That had been an interesting rejection from the House Talis lawyer, even with Ximena championing to support Viktor. “He’s my partner. It’s a conflict of interest since we own a business together. It might have been a different story if I took ownership of Hextech and he stepped down as an employee, but…”
In the end, Jayce couldn’t do that. He couldn’t demote Viktor’s name from his importance to Hextech. That would have been one step forward and five steps back from the point that Jayce wanted to make to everyone:
That Viktor was his equal, and thus was deserving of equal respect in equal measure to Jayce.
Caitlyn hummed. “Well…if not a sponsorship, then there has to be some other way that a House out there can give him their name.” And that was precisely what Jayce had been wracking his brain over.
Jayce wasn’t sure. But what he was sure about was that he’s been awfully spoiled lately when it came to facing impossible scenarios. When confronted with a problem he couldn’t tackle on his own, he had Viktor by his side to lend a different perspective, to build on the foundation Jayce laid out and bridged a new path to the end-result Jayce had been grappling on his own for. Viktor could always discover a seamless solution; one so inventive and innovative that it could only be done by the creators of Hextech.
And that was what made them a perfect team: their chemistry, their understanding, the effortless way they connected in every experiment. Every late night in the lab, every drowsy morning before coffee (and sweetmilk), every brutal failure and staggering triumph,
Viktor was at Jayce’s side. Even on the margins where Viktor had added his own adjustments, his own annotations and explanations, Jayce had taken to writing Viktor’s single initial right next to his own, so that no one could ever mistake their creations as anything but the product of their joined passions.
His name, right there next to Jayce’s, where it belonged: As his partner.
Viktor & Jayce Talis.
Caitlyn crossed her arms in thought, tilting her gaze over to Jayce. “What are you going to do?”
Then perhaps…the way forward is to take matters into your own hands.
And there was. The sudden clarity brought Jayce perhaps his best-worst idea yet as he raised his head from his hands and saw the path forward: one so experimental and volatile that it could only be conceived by Jayce Talis himself: “Probably something stupid. Or crazy. Or both.”
And if this stupid-crazy plan did work, Jayce could only think of one House to give Viktor a name:
His.