Chapter 33

There had been another death. The somber mood hung over the Academy like a blanket of smog. This time the diver had been the brother of one of the professors. Outside her office, students had been leaving flowers and letters of condolences. Viktor paused by her door. He had nothing to add to the piles, but bowed his head and offered a silent wish for her to find peace of mind.

Though Viktor disagreed with the Academy's rule that her class, History of Runeterra, be mandatory, as it did little to benefit his of area of study, he recognized her passion and commitment to the subject. She didn't deserve to be buried in grief, unable to share her knowledge with her students. Viktor couldn't change the past, but he knew he could prevent further loss. It was this kind of work that made him famous in Zaun, and he knew that his talents would benefit Piltover just as much.

Viktor pushed open the door to the private workspace he and his partner had been granted for their work on the dock project. Jayce looked up from the newspaper and its grim headline. There were bags under his eyes as well.

"Another," he sighed.

"Another," Viktor repeated.

Viktor put his books down on the table and took a seat across from Jayce. He let out a deep sigh. On the one hand, Viktor knew that if anyone could solve this problem, it would be the two of them working together. On the other hand, Viktor found that he was still struggling to look Jayce in the eye. It had been weeks since his so-called friend had remained silent when he had lodged complaints with the academy over the credit stolen for Blitzcrank's design.

After the complaints had been dropped, Jayce had tried to comfort Viktor, saying that since the golem was sentient, it knew who its creator was, even if the academy didn't validate its words. What's more, Jayce reasoned, the golem was bettering the lives of Zaunites, and that's all that really mattered, wasn't it?

No, it wasn't. Viktor found Jayce's words empty. If his words had meant anything, they would have been backed up by action. He could have verified Viktor's claims. He could have used his influence to shut down a sickening petition that promised to reclaim the golem from Zaun so that it could begin doing "better work" for the people of Piltover. He could have called Blitzcrank by his name rather than just refer to him as "golem." But Jayce had done none of those things and Viktor believed he knew why.

Why would Jayce want to rock the boat or risk tarnishing his clean image by speaking out against one of Piltover's most respected scientific minds in favor of some Zaunite? Why do this when he was a potential candidate to be one of the first handpicked students allowed to enroll in the new, advanced hextech courses? Why stand up for a friend when you have so much to gain by staying silent?

"Viktor," Jayce said, "are you listening to me?"

Viktor shook his head as he snapped back to attention.

"I didn't think so," Jayce continued, "look, I'm losing sleep over this too, but the longer it takes for us to fix this, the worse we look and the longer it keeps people in danger. So, focus, alright?"

Viktor nodded and began searching through his folders for his blueprints. As he did this, Jayce kept talking.

"I thought we had it for sure with the last design. Your improved chem-lanterns, while not hextech, doubled the diver's visibility, and my improved joint design gave them more mobility. So what? Every diver who has died was ranting about lights in the depths or phantoms. Did you hear, that student whose mum is from Bilgewater is claiming that the lights are from some creature called Nautilus. He says that Nautilus has come to punish us for not following some old superstition about throwing coins in the sea. Then there are others saying that the lights are the ghosts of the Zaunites who drowned while the Gates were being made and that they've come back for revenge.

I say both of these ideas are rubbish. If these lights are anything, they're most likely a sign nitrogen narcosis. Hallucinations and hysteria are both symptoms of it. So there's our problem. How do we improve the pumps to keep the nitrogen from building up in their suits? Maybe I could invent some smaller, portable hextech pump that they could carry with them along with some contained air?"

"Hextech isn't always the solution," Viktor finally cut it, "do not forget, hextech crystals generate electricity. If the core isn't stable and if there is any damage to the insulation around it or the wires connected to it, our divers, who will be, remember, underwater, will be electrocuted in their suits. No, hextech technology isn't ready yet."

"But what if I make it ready? What if I make controlling this the focus of my research? Then I go down in history as the man who conquered the deep and we make life safer for all dock cleaners."

"That will take time, and as you said, the longer we take, the longer people are in danger," Viktor said as he pulled his blueprints from his folder, "besides, I do not believe that nitrogen narcosis is the problem. Jayce, these suits are our designs. We would not have made them the way they are if the pumps were a problem. We even took precautions to have helium mixed into the diver's air supply. No, I believe that statement you made about the ghosts is more to blame for the deaths than nitrogen narcosis."

"Ghosts? Seriously Viktor," Jayce scoffed, "since when did you become a superstitious man?"

"I am not," Viktor answered vehemently, "but the divers might be. I believe that these deaths are due purely to human error. I imagine that these dives are harrowing experiences for them. They are going deeper than ever before, have limited visibility, more restricted movement, and now they are hearing rumors about vengeful spirits. Wouldn't you feel anxious?"

A non-committal grunt was Jayce's response.

"So what do you suggest," Jayce continued, "rework our entire designs to make the suits roomier? That we somehow improve the chem-lanterns and mobility even more?"

"No," Viktor said, "that would take time and likely exceed our budget. Please, we should at least try my first plan."

Viktor pushed his papers over to Jayce.

"I revised the shunt's design. I made it as small as possible without sacrificing efficiency. Most of the divers will be able to hide it under their hair or a hat, and when they retire, there would be a procedure to remove it."

Jayce gave a deep sigh.

"Viktor," he said sternly.

"I have performed this procedure before in Zaun," Viktor continued, "it has-"

"Viktor!"

Jayce slammed his hand on the table.

"I don't care what you do in Zaun," Jayce said with a voice filled with irritated exasperation, "I don't care what chemicals you all go pumping yourselves with down there, but we do things differently in Piltover. We don't enslave ourselves to chemicals. I will not force a citizen of Piltover to forfeit their free will to some Chem-Baron's drug."

He tore the blueprints in half and let the scraps fall to the floor.

"I don't want to hear about these shunts again, Viktor."

Jayce stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him and leaving Viktor to pick up the pieces.

Viktor let out a long sigh that slowly turned into a yawn. Sleep was evading him this night. Instead, unpleasant memories clung to his thoughts, filling him with a deep restlessness. He looked over to his cabinets, filled with possible solutions. He could grab a sleep aid, booster for his emotions suppressing implants, or jar of powdered anise to calm his mind. But he didn't.

Viktor ran his fingers through his dark hair. There had to be a reason these memories had haunted him for three nights now. Perhaps it was because the atmosphere in the factory felt as the Academy's had all those years ago; anxious and sorrowful. Or maybe it was his anger towards the boy, and his rash behavior that reminded Viktor of the divers and their irrational emotions that doomed them and others. No. Viktor knew why.

It was because Ren was wrong. Viktor knew exactly how Ren was feeling. He had felt it that day when Jayce tore his blueprints. He felt it when Blitzcrank's credit was stolen. He felt it when he was expelled from the Academy. Even after all his augmentations, he felt it when Jayce had attacked his lab and killed all the people he had been trying to save. Yes, Viktor knew the pain of betrayal and all the anger and sorrow that came after it.

He knew how Ren was feeling and he knew he couldn't let the boy the stay like that. He didn't want Ren to sink to the depths of depression as he had. Luckily though, he already knew the solution. Viktor went to his desk and pulled one of his oldest notebooks from the drawers. He began to reread the notes on the augmentations. It wouldn't hurt to refresh his memory on the procedures. After all, it had been years since he had transformed himself.