"Hello?" Yannick asked as he knocked on the factory door, "is anybody there?"

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper.

"I followed the instructions on the letter."

He was about to knock on the door again, when the automaton Mary opened the door. Yannick was taken aback the sudden appearance of his expressionless host, and jumped back. Mary held out her hand, revealing a small letter.

Follow

"Alright," he said, unsure of how else to communicate with the machine, "I'll follow."

The older man followed Mary through the building. He had remembered when this old factory was in operation over a decade ago and the wonderful work that was being done to create and improve zeppelins. But those days were gone. After the factory went under, all the inventors had moved up to Piltover and the workers were left behind to find employment elsewhere.

The entryway was emptier than ever. Knowing that Viktor was intending to augment others, Ren had busied himself with cleaning the place. Cobwebs were swept away, the floor was washed, and all the miscellaneous junk was shoved into rooms that the guests wouldn't be. This left Mary with one clean path to lead guests down. At the end of this path, Mary gestured to the door of Viktor's workshop. Yannick knocked on it.

"You may enter," Viktor responded from the other side.

Yannick paused with his hand on the knob. It was his last chance to turn away. Nobody would shame him for it. But a quick look at his other arm, which was augmented from elbow down, was more than enough to make up his mind. More parts than not were covered with rust and Yannick felt as though he had pay for repairs weekly. Some days, entire fingers would pop off without warning. Anything Viktor would give him had to be better than this, and so he opened the door.

As part of Ren's ideas to make the place more welcoming, the workshop had been brightly lit with chem-lamps. Whether this had the soothing effect Ren had hoped for or not, was unclear, as this brighter lighting did allow for all of Viktor's surgical equipment, all freshly shined and sharpened, to be plainly seen. In the corner of the room, Viktor was sitting behind a desk from one of the old offices. An empty chair was set up before it, and Viktor motioned for his guest to be seated in it. Shuffling forward, Yannick took the seat.

"Hello," Yannick said as he extended his hand, "I am Yannick. You must be Viktor."

Viktor didn't reach across to shake the man's hand but instead nodded.

"You received my letter about my arm?"

"I have," Viktor responded, "your augmentation is failing. Your occupation does not pay enough for you to upgrade yourself, so instead you must settle for repairing a faulty limb. However, this too is growing more costly."

"That about sums it up," Yannick answered with a sigh.

"Show me your arm."

The man did as he was asked and laid his arm across the table. A thick work glove covered the mechanical hand. Carefully, Yannick removed the garment. Despite his care, the pinky finger still fell off. Even if it were not literally falling to pieces, Viktor could tell that this limb was beyond any meaningful repair. Years of expose to the Gray had corroded away the cheaper parts and the teeth on many of the gears were worn to points from overuse.

"Complete replacement is the best option," Viktor said.

From inside the desk he pulled out a notepad. He opened to a fresh page and at the top wrote "Subject: Yannick" and pinned the letter he had received from the man to it.

"Before I begin, I have some questions to ask you."

"Before you begin?" Yannick asked, "I thought this was just going to be a consultation."

"That was my original intent," Viktor responded, "but after observing the condition of your augmentation, it would be irresponsible for me to not replace it immediately."

"Oh, okay then."

Viktor ignored the nervous tone with which the man spoke and began his questioning. Once the vital questions, age, sex, height, and weight, were asked, Viktor began to probe for details that would help him in customizing the new augmentation to best suit the man.

"Any known allergies?" he asked.

"Bees and nickel."

"Any allergies to medication?"

"None that I know of."

"Any medical conditions I should be aware of?"

"Acid reflux, but I doubt that matters much here."

"What was the reason behind your original augmentation?"

"The usual, factory accident."

"How is your sense of balance?"

"As good as you would expect for someone my age."

"And your current occupation?"

"I'm a courier. I transport documents between Zaun and Piltover."

Viktor continued to ask questions and write down Yannick's responses until he was satisfied that he had a full profile of his new patient.

"This will be a simple procedure," Viktor said as he reviewed his notes, "I can complete it within a few hours. Go to the operating table."

Using the measurement that Yannick had given to him in the letter, Viktor had prepared the base of the augmentation in advance. After helping the older man up onto the table, he retrieved the new limb from his workbench. As with the woman he had operated on, this arm used a simple and practical base. Yannick's job didn't require a large amount of physical strain, and so the limb was constructed with longevity as the primary goal. The parts were all coated and sealed with chemicals to protect the machinery from both the harsh atmosphere of Zaun and the salty air of Piltover's docks.

Viktor laid the limb on the rolling tray next to the operating table and pulled out a syringe and vial. He rolled back the fabric on Yannick's shirt and wiped down his upper arm with a sterilizing alcohol.

"I am going to numb your arm," Viktor explained, "the socket of your old augmentation has also deteriorated. I will replace it. This should numb any pain you might feel."

Yannick nodded in understanding as Viktor administered the local anesthetic. As he waited for the numbness to set in, Viktor took additional measurements of his patient and removed the degraded augmentation. He made adjustments as he compared the limbs until he was satisfied that the shape and weight would feel comfortable for Yannick.

"Do you feel anything?" Viktor asked as he pinched the area above Yannick's socket.

"Only pressure," the man answered.

Viktor nodded.

"Lie back," he told his patient, "and relax."

Viktor worked steadily. He cleaned and replaced the old socket, tended to the skin around the stump, and attached the new augmentation. It was an easy operation, leaving him plenty of time work on the finer details. By the time he was finished, Yannick swore he couldn't tell the augmentation from his limb of flesh. This was, as Viktor knew, exaggeration, there would always be differences, but the flattery was still pleasant enough to hear.

"I know it's just my hand," Yannick said as he smiled at his new augmentation, "but I feel seven years younger. How can I ever repay you? I don't have much wealth, but what I would normally pay in repairs I can send to you for weeks."

Viktor thought for a moment. Money was always needed but he knew he would feel like a crook by taking it from someone who clearly needed it more. To do that would be like charging Ren for room and board. At the thought of his N-12 subject, an idea sprung to mind.

"You mentioned that your profession is that of a courier," Viktor said.

"I am."

"As payment, I want you to fulfill your job as courier and deliver news. If any ask you where your augmentation came from, tell them. Let them know I gave it to you."

"Really, is that all?"

Viktor nodded, thinking about how Ren had claimed that good public opinion was priceless. But he did decide to make one more request.

"Parsnips," the scientist said.

"Pardon?"

"Parsnips," Viktor repeated, "you had mentioned that you travel to Piltover. I had parsnips once in Piltover and enjoyed their flavor. If you find any in their markets, purchase them and deliver them to me."

"I can do that," Yannick said, "you will be enjoying parsnips by the week's end, I promise. Still, a few vegetables don't seem like fair pay for what you have done for me."

"If it will put your mind at ease, you may include one week's repair allowance along with the vegetables, but beyond that, I will not accept further pay."

"All right then, I will agree to that. Thank you, doctor."

"You are welcome."

As it would turn out, Yannick would only be the first of many who would come to Viktor for augmentation. The following week, another man would approach him, seeking to augment his legs. The day after, entered a woman seeking to strengthen her bones and a worker wishing for the reprieve of mechanical lungs immune to the blight. More arrived the week after. Among them were former acolytes, who had fled after Jayce's attack, were now returning and asking for their fragile emotions to be forever repressed. News spread among factory workers of his services, and Viktor found that there were no shortages of people who needed lost digits replaced.

One notable 'patient' was a toy clockwork frog that had been broken. The young girl showed it to Viktor as her mother, Viktor's actual patient for that evening, was recovering from an operation on her hand. The toy was simple in its design and took Viktor no more than a few minutes to repair it. He did however, take the extra time to explain to the girl how the toy works and instructed her on how to repair it if it were to break again.

And the more people Viktor saw, the more goodwill to him grew. Very rarely did Viktor ask for monetary payment for his services. Instead, most of his patients paid through favors; parts left outside his factory, workers leaving windows unlocked for Moyna's exploits, the locations of gang and Chem-Baron caches, and always, a recommendation to others seeking aid.

It was a busy month for Viktor, but the change of pace was a welcomed one. People now approached him freely. They listened to his advice. The let themselves be augmented. And Viktor hoped that the next month would be busier still.

Greetings Summoners,

My work is now over on Archive of Our Own as well. If you have an account over there as well, showing my work some love would be greatly appreciated. Writing for you all has been a treat and I appreciate all the feedback and support you have given me.

Best of luck on the Rift,

-Gwoo