It had been a nightmare of blood, bone, and burst flesh that Viktor endured to save Ren. His body, organic and mechanical, had already been pushed to its limit in his battle with Jayce, but he had no time to recover. His next battle was against the Kindred. For unending hours, he labored over the body of his apprentice to keep him alive, and even when he triumphed over that arduous task, he still could not rest. His own injuries had to be attended to.

By the time he had finished healing himself, he could not remember when he had slept last. Part of him yearned to go to his private chambers and procure one of his stronger stimulants so that he could continue to repair himself and his tools, but the thought of leaving Ren alone was completely unacceptable.

Since he knew he would not be leaving, he barricaded the door to the operating room. The desk had been pushed against it and, in several places, the door had been hastily welded shut. Blood trailed from the door over to the operating table. Around it, the rust colored stains were the heaviest, most left uncleaned from when Viktor had dragged Ren up onto the table. Viktor placed any sheets he could find in the room upon his apprentice to keep him warm, even going so far as to add his own cape to the pile. Ren lay still on the table, unmoving except for the steady rise and fall of his chest.

Now that both he and Ren were stable, Viktor let the exhaustion wash over him all at once. He removed his mask, placing it on the workbench alongside everything else that would need to be mended or replaced. His staff had been snapped, his third arm warped, the syphon severed, and Ren's augmentation burnt out. Viktor let out a long sigh. There was much work to be done, but none of it could be attended to. All he could do now was pull a chair over to Ren's side, lean into it, and sleep.


A groan broke the silence. Viktor's eyes snapped open. His shallow sleep had been interrupted by the sound coming from the operating table. Ren was finally waking up.

It had been three days since the attack, and Viktor's muscles still ached whenever he moved too suddenly. This pain was dull compared to the ordeal he had just survived though, so the discomfort was easy to push from his mind as he rushed to the table. Ren's eyes were still closed, but Viktor could see movement below the lids as the boy mumbled.

"Mum? Dad?" Ren's voice was nearly inaudible, "Where am I?"

His eyes finally peeked open. Ren looked around in confusion, his vision still blurry. He tried to focus on the dark form hanging over him. Steadily, gray eyes, bloodshot from lack of sleep, came into focus.

"Viktor?"

"Yes," Viktor responded, "I am here, Renatus."

"Renatus? So I didn't dream that. You calling me by my name or," Ren swallowed, "or the fight."

"No."

Ren let out a long sigh. He was still too weak to move, so in silence he laid on the table trying to recall what happened. It was all confused; a wreckage of light, and shouting and pain, and heat. Viktor continued to speak.

"How are you feeling? Are you in pain?"

"Being honest, everything hurts," Ren responded, "I feel like I've been hit by a trolley."

"Do not move. I will get you something for the pain."

As Viktor went to his medicine cabinet, Ren tried to shift his position, but his body still refused to move. He let out a groan from equal parts discomfort and frustration. His eyes followed some tubing coming up from under the blankets and saw that he had several IVs attached to him. He watched the fluids drip until Viktor returned and administered the pain killer. Compared to the terrible ache throbbing through his body, Ren didn't even feel the needle.

"Viktor," Ren asked, "what happened?"

"We survived."

"And Jayce? Did you?"

"He fled. I do not know if he died of his injuries."

"Oh, okay."

Viktor could tell that Ren wasn't satisfied with that answer. He couldn't blame him for feeling that way. In truth, Viktor was also dissatisfied with not knowing Jayce's fate, though for likely very different reasons than his apprentice. While he desired the peace of mind that would come with knowing that the threat of Jayce had been permanently removed, he knew Ren was afraid to think that he had blood on his hands, even if it was the blood of the man who had maimed him.

A pang of dread pinched at Viktor's mind. He still hadn't told Ren what had happened to him. This was not something he could put off. He owed it to the boy to be upfront and honest about what had happened. Viktor exhaled and cleared his mind. He was prepared for this unpleasant task.

"Renatus," he said.

Ren's attention snapped back to Viktor.

"Yes," he answered.

"How much of the fight do you recall?"

"Not much. I was so angry and scared, it's mostly a blur. Last thing I remember was Jayce going to attack you. I thought you were going to die. I couldn't let that happen. I know I moved but I don't know how. Then I heard you say my name and that was it." Ren's tone shifted, growing quieter as he asked the following question, "What happened to me?"

"You fought," Viktor spoke slowly, trying to ease Ren into reality, "and you were struck. Your shoulder – Stop! Do not move!"

At the news that he had been struck, Ren scrambled to pull himself upright so he could look at his injury and see how bad the damage was. Foggy memories of the Mercury Hammer surged forward, filling his mind. He did not hear Viktor's warning. Ren tried to prop himself up on his elbows, but the support he sought wasn't there and he fell back. His injured shoulder crashed onto the table. Ren let out a cry of pain as the wound began to throb anew. But after a few seconds, Ren was silent again. A look of horror had descended on his face.

"Viktor, I can't feel my arm."

"Your shoulder was crushed," Viktor continued, "and you were bleeding heavily. I had to amputate the limb to save you. I had no other option."

If Ren had kept looking at Viktor, he might have seen the faint look of shame that darkened the scientist's eyes, but he hadn't. Ren's eyes were looking at nothing. Abruptly, he spoke.

"I need to see it."

Viktor nodded. He wanted to tell Ren to remain lying down and rest, but he knew from his tone, Ren would not be at peace until he saw what had been done to him. With the utmost care, Viktor wrapped his arm around Ren's chest and eased him upright. Ren stifled a moan and scrunched his eyes shut and a spell of dizziness washed over him. Viktor continued support him until the nausea had passed.

"I'm alright," Ren sighed, "you can let go."

As Viktor released his hold, the sheets that had been covering Ren's upper body fell to his lap. Ren took a deep breath and turned to look at his shoulder. A mountain of gauze was wrapped around the wound, but that was all there was. His arm was gone. He stared at the empty air in silence.

A growing blotch of blood seeping through the dressings caught Viktor's attention, forcing him to break the silence.

"Your wound is bleeding again," he said, "It will need fresh dressing. Would you like to lie back down?"

Ren shook his head but said nothing. Viktor went and retrieved a bundle of clean gauze, his suture kit, and saline wash. As he expected, Ren had reopened one of the stitches when he had hit the table. Viktor set to work removing the old bandages and tending to the wound.

Ren's focus remained on his shoulder. He didn't even wince when Viktor began to stitch the split skin. All his concentration was being expended on absorbing every last detail of his marred shoulder. His skin was mottled purple. It had been stitched together in over a dozen spots and several drains had been placed to help reduce the swelling. Most notable though, was that Viktor had already integrated a socket into the shoulder ready for augmentation. The skin along the edge of socket was a raw pink from a burn. It was awful, but Ren couldn't look away. His gaze was only finally broken by Viktor wrapping the shoulder once more.

Without his shoulder to look at, Ren stared blankly down at his lap and the fabric that had pooled there. Against the sterile white of the sheets, the navy of Viktor's cape stood out boldly where the garment had been laid across his body. It was filthy, stained with blood, oil, and stinking smoke. Ren ran his fingers over it as his mind tumbled.

"What do we do now?" he asked.

"We continue to survive," Viktor responded.

He said the words plainly, as though his answer was the most obvious thing in the world. He knew he had to speak this way and project the confidence Ren needed see.

"And," he continued, "we will rebuild."

Ren lifted his head and met Viktor's gaze as he continued to speak.

"I could not save your arm, Renatus, but I will create a new one for you. I promise."

"Thank you, but – it's just- I –"

Ren tried to force a smile as he spoke, but with each word, tears welled in his eyes. His lips quivered as the smile faded. He could hold it back no more and his anguish overflowed. Ren began to weep.

"I just don't get why this happened!"

His hand formed a tight fist around the cape.

"We didn't do anything wrong!"

Sobs wracked his body.

"We didn't do anything wrong!"

Tears were streaming down his face, dripping off his chin, and falling onto his hand. He bit his lips in an attempt to stop the crying, but that only lasted a few seconds.

"We were just helping people! We wanted to help. I don't get it. I don't. I just don't. We didn't do anything wrong!"

His shoulders trembled as he gasped for air between sobs.

"Why did he attack us? I even helped him. Why? What did I do wrong?"

Viktor was unsure of how to respond to such an outpouring of emotion. Comforting another was something that he struggled with, but he understood that it was what his apprentice needed at the moment, so he did the only comforting act he could think of. Viktor reached out and gently placed his mechanical hand on Ren's uninjured shoulder. He gave a light squeeze.

At the touch, Ren leaned into him. He clutched to Viktor as though he were a lifeboat in a storm. He buried his face into his shoulder and wrapped his surviving arm around his back. Holding Viktor in this embrace, Ren continued to cry into his shoulder.

Viktor did nothing to push Ren off of himself. To do so, he knew, would be cruel. He could feel Ren's body shuddering against him. His sobs were growing softer, though tears still flowed freely and were soaking through the fabric on his shoulder. This closeness was foreign to him and he found himself at a loss of what to do. So he remained still and silent.

"Renatus," Viktor thought, "why are you doing this? You know I am not a compassionate person, so why do you cling to me, seeking human comforts I am ill-equipped to provide? You have said it yourself, I struggle with empathy. Stoicism, pragmatism, and a steady hand are what I can give. I do not believe I can match your emotion to give you the comfort you deserve. I am not designed for this."

"But you do not care, do you? No, that is not right. You care deeply. It is written all over your body. The weeping and shaking and overflow of emotions; I would decry this all as signs of human weakness. But I know you and you are not weak. Foolish, headstrong, and disobedient at times, but not weak. You are strong, Renatus."

"I sound like a fool. I feel as though I should congratulate you. It seems as though you have found the one thing I can truly empathize about. We have both suffered due to Piltover's intrusive ignorance. We have both suffered at the hands of their so called hero. And we have both been left wondering amid smoke and ruin if what we had done justified the destructive meddling of those who never even attempted to understand us."

"You are so young. This should never have had to happen to you. I am sorry. You deserve better compassion than what I can give. You deserve empathy from one who has not willfully dulled his emotions. But it is me that you cling to, and so I shall aid in alleviating your suffering as best I can. I have not completed your new arm, but for now, this is what I can provide."

Slowly, carefully, deliberately, Viktor wrapped his other arm around Ren. The gentle embrace had an immediate effect on the boy. He leaned further into Viktor. His muscles relaxed and the grip he had on Viktor's shoulder weakened, no longer clutching with such desperation. Shuddering sighs became mixed in with his sobs as his breathing began to steady.

Neither knew how much time had passed, but eventually the crying stopped. Viktor looked down at Ren, his weakened body finally still in his arms.

"Renatus." Viktor spoke softly.

Ren looked up. His eyes were puffy and red, and a few stray tears lingered, but his expression was no longer gripped by agony. A tentative sense of resignation was coming over him. Ren released Viktor and began to wipe the remaining tears from his eyes.

"Thanks, Viktor," he answered, his voice was still little more than a whisper, "thank you."

A rare smile crossed Viktor's face. This uncharacteristically soft expression was however somewhat lessened by haggard signs of sleep deprivation that clung to him. Ren didn't care though, and he returned the small smile with a yet weaker one of his own.

"There is something else I need to discuss with you," Viktor said, "but only if you are well enough for it."

"I should be fine," Ren answered.

"It is about your augmentation and the damage it sustained in the fight," Viktor said as he stood, "I will retrieve it."

Viktor returned, holding the destroyed augmentation in his arms. Scorch marks and dried blood covered the once shining limb. The compartment that held the artificial crystal had been opened, revealing a burnt out chamber. Wires were frayed, metal had warped, gears were melted together, and in the center of it all, the crystal rested, its surface covered in a mosaic of cracks and its light completely gone. Ren bit his lips, holding back a fresh wave of tears.

"It was never designed to function with that level of energy output," Viktor said, "but I had never anticipated it would ever be put under that kind of stress. Do not blame yourself for the damage the limb sustained. It is not your fault."

Viktor watched Ren's expression and saw the guilt in his eyes. It was a look he recognized from himself years ago after the Factorywood disaster.

"Look at me, Renatus," he said, "it is not your fault. Jayce alone bears that burden. It was his decision to attack us. You defended yourself. You defended me. That blow would have killed me had you not pushed me out of the way. Thank you."

Only now did Ren look back up.

"After the first attack," Viktor continued, "many who worked for me distanced themselves, fearing personal injury for being associated with me. I became a pariah and I was content to remain one. I had never considered that there would be anyone would be willing to endanger themselves for my sake," as he spoke, he reached for his pocket, "and that is why I entrust this to you, someone who fought alongside me of his own free will."

Viktor opened his hand. The shining blue light of a true hexcrystal filled the dim room.

"It is a shard," Viktor explained, "of the original crystal Jayce destroyed. The power contained in this is more than most in Zaun or Piltover will ever experience. It will be the power source for your new leg, and with it, I know you will do glorious things."

He took Ren's hand and placed the shard in his palm. At the touch, Ren winced as invigorating energy flowed up his arm, causing his hairs to stand on end. But after the initial shock, soothing warmth radiated through his body. As Ren looked down at the crystal, he felt, for the first time since waking, the tiniest glimmer of hope.

"First we survive," Ren repeated.

"Then we rebuild," Viktor added.

"And then we live?"

"And then we live."