(Doctor Kane - PoV)

Despite my ranting, my demands, my shaming, all my maddened words, the one I was really angry at was myself. I only had myself to blame after all.

I mean, how ridiculous is it to blame a mentally damaged, traumatized little girl waking up in a strange, unknown location for reacting violently?

I should have seen it coming.

I have no idea how I didn't, it was obvious. I have dealt with it so very many times before.

But no, I assumed that this time, since I was truly trying to help, it would be different. Since my intentions were noble, she should somehow just know that. Somehow read my mind.

Stupid. I was more being more stupid than her thick-skulled oaf of a brother.

I sigh, surveying the ruined, broken lab. The scattered and wrecked machines.

The structure is worthless, honestly.

I might complain but it is mostly just to rant. The real work is done in far more secure locations.

Can't risk the subjects escaping after all.

The equipment, however...it is going to be quite the pain to replace. My ire over it's loss is genuine, even if the fault lies with myself.

None of it is standard stock, even for Zaun or Piltover, much less here. Most of it I have customized myself, adapting it to my specialties, and the peculiarities I have picked up on over the years. I don't know if it will even be possible to replicate it all, a lifetime of work.

Really, I might have yelled at the girl and the moron, but this is truly the price of my own hubris. A reminder that one good deed will not make up for my lifetime of...mistakes.

Mistakes. Hah. Admit it Augustus, a lifetime of being a monster, a comic book villain.

The girl was not mistaken when she woke up. In the past...in the past her instincts may have very well been on point. The things I have done...

And for nothing.

I clench my hands. They ache underneath the gloves, as always.

Another reminder of my hubris. Never underestimate a mage.

Like I just did. Again.

I pride myself on my brilliance, but seem incapable of learning from my mistakes.

I shake my head, attempting to clear my thoughts.

I should clean up, try to salvage what I can. But...no. I don't even want to look at this mess at the moment.

I leave instead, to report to my patron. On the way out (carefully avoiding the gaping holes in the floor) I instruct the guards to keep the place secure, and to not touch anything. I will sort it out later. See what can be recovered, and what must be replaced. I suspect near all will need replaced, but if I get lucky perhaps I will make some new insight looking over the broken machines.

The city is so...boring.

No, I don't think I would have ever come here on my own had Swain not made such a generous offer. And had I not felt such a need to escape my past.

I frown.

I doubt I will ever be able to return to my beloved Piltover. The risk of my crimes catching up to me is too great. I suspect Caitlynn would love to mount my head on her wall, given that they still tell tales of The Butcher and The Mind Eater to this day. The girl is too cunning by far, I would not put it past her to make the connection to cases long since cold. And for all my own skills I have no chance against an experienced Champion.

I sigh.

All of that horror, all of that misery, all of those lives destroyed, and nothing to show for it. As mentioned when I spoke to the boy, all I did was confirm what even the lowest street rat considered obvious from the start.

Once someone is gone, they don't come back.

My mind drifts to the memory of that terrible day.

Coming home to my dear, amazing, brilliant mother's workshop, excited at the new contraption I managed to piece together, only to find her just...there. Unmoving. Dark hair half covering her green eyes, arms limp by her sides. Sitting at the her workbench but...hollow. Empty. The spark of innovation, of brilliance, of life itself, forever taken from her. Forever stolen from her.

And a strange magical rune, placed on our damned cat!

I resist the urge to lash out.

It won't change anything. I spent far, far too long lashing out and all it ever did was make things worse.

But no, I recognized the signs even then. Mother was nothing but an experiment. A test. And not even a significant one, an important one. No, she was just an idle curiosity. A student throwing stuff in a tube to "see what happens."

Some freak bastard of a mage stole her mind from me on a whim.

...

And I ruined more lives than I will ever know trying to get her back. Even now I am still seeing the results of my handiwork.

My anger at mages proved all too popular with Demacia, and that aspect of my work found fertile ground.

They are using my process to drive their own mages insane so they have an excuse to kill them. They used my process to try to murder an innocent girl seemingly out of sheer bloody minded hatred for magic.

Such a vicious cycle.

No, one little good deed, one that is merely undoing a tiny, tiny fraction of the hardship, of the horror I have visited upon the world, hardly make up for all I have done.

Especially given who I am working for now.

I look up at the structure before me.

The residence of Grand General Jericho Swain.

Am I doing the right thing? I think so.

Jericho is certainly not a good man, but given the monsters I see in the world, I think he is the leader it needs. The right sort of monster for the job. Just like myself.

And the people I am experimenting on now? They deserve it. By the gods they need to be removed from the world.

They are exactly the sort that would bring such harm to my mother. Exactly the sort that Demacia point to to justify their hatred of mages.

I am so very, very far from a saint myself, but even in the deepest throes of my madness I had goals. I at least had a noble reason for what I did, and tried to minimize the pain I caused.

These people? They are at best out only for themselves, uncaring of the pain they inflict. At worst...at worst they go out of their way to harm as many as they can. Even after decades studying the mind I barely understand them, and only from the most basic of intellectual levels.

So yes. While many would condemn my actions even now, I believe my new work is in the right.

I no longer hate magic, or mages. It can bring great harm, but do such good. Those who wield it are just like anyone else, capable of great good or great evil. I am simply working on solutions to those that would inflict evil. To those that do inflict evil.

I may yet be a monster. May be forever tainted by what I have done.

But the world needs monsters, to deal with worse monsters.

I nod.

Yes, I can live with this.