VIKTOR
Viktor.
When he awoke, he pretty much woke like any newborn child would. In pain.
His body was all pretty much rigid at the bed, just too much pain to move. Just every muscle. Even the eyes hurt. Especially the eyes. All he could understand was his breathing, and even then his chest stinging with pain. The only muscle that didn't seem to hurt was his head. The head, the brain, was still too blank to recall what occurred.
The head still felt a bit dizzy. The skin could start feeling something touching him, across the face. A breathing mask, providing fresh oxygen.
Viktor felt he perhaps didn't need it anymore, the mask. Just some minutes and he probably would be able to fight the pain and get himself on his feet, start checking how bad was the damage. He moved his left arm to try and remove the mask.
Besides the pain, he noticed he didn't feel his left hand. Or forearm. Not good. He rested whatever remained of his left arm and instead raised the right one, taking it to his mask. The fingers could touch the mask.
Viktor.
The fingers grasped and removed the mask. He took his first breath of outside air.
His eyes still hurt, but he could still open them. He had to. And all he could see was his sight, somehow, blurry and almost flashing a bright neon blue that nearly blinded him. He closed them again, opened them again, and repeated the process over three times, all slowly, until he could be used to this new sight, which somehow he had to remedy to balance the colors again. To stop the neon bright that stinged his sight more than anything, making the eyes still hurt.
He could see the nightly ceiling, clearly a hospital in Piltover. He tried lifting his left arm, or what was his left arm. There was nothing much but the forearm and almost half of his arm. The hand was gone. Lifting his right arm, he could barely see it was an unnatural burn, the same silver-like muscles he had during his experiments with the Hex Core. The experiments that cost him the things that mattered the most to him, only realizing that too late.
Viktor started recalling the events. The explosion. The Hextech energy covering the whole Council Chambers like a firestorm. The blast shockwave throwing him to a wall.
He needed a mirror. Something to reflect him and help him determine the extent of the damage.
Viktor.
He tried getting himself off the bed, but at a cost he learned his body was still healing. Muscles aching so much that he managed, at best, to sit at the bed's edge, where the could notice the nearby trolley, especially the silvery tray above it, which had a bare of reflection. Viktor knew that'd have to make due.
He emptied the tray of it's contents, mostly surgical materials and tissues and took the tray to behold his face. But he could barely see it. He could only see the amber eyes. And a glow, apparently where his chest is. He couldn't see much else. It was almost if as he had no skin at all.
Or perhaps worse. Perhaps the rest of his skin became as silvery as tray itself.
Viktor tried getting on his feet, but the pain got the best of him this time. It was clear he needed much more rest.
And so he lied back down. Back to sleep and forget this terrible feeling.
Viktor.
Like any newborn child would.
THE YOUNG ONE
Sixty years ago.
Regardless of the species, of time, of placement, the constant remains: the child's world is full of curiosity. Of discoveries and exploits. Where everything is new to a child's five senses - sight, hearing, smell, taste and touch. And, in many cases, for the spark of life to bloom into a bright star, a child should be encouraged to exploit and discover much of those curiosities.
But then, the dangers presented by some exploits, as well as the outside world, make many once-children - grown in stature and wisdom - often try and curb the offspring from their early discoveries. Understandably, all in the name of safety. Unfortunately, many times the excessive curb takes it's toll, with the once innocent and sparking curiosity being left in a corner to die out. By then, the child's life becomes routine and roles. And little to no chances at growth, exploration or expression. It is when a fraction of the self goes away, with almost nothing to fill the void. The house with an everlasting empty room.
But of course, there are those whom are, somehow, undeterred by the limitations or constraints imposed. Those whom would continue to brave on to their discoveries regardless of costs. Or opinions. Or reactions. Or even collateral damage. Or the accidental terror caused to others.
And much to the chagrin of the small, curious and surprisingly mysterious creatures known as the Yordles, this was the case with that one child in Bandle City, one perhaps too curious. Too particular. And too peculiar. A child whose unfortunate accident, of ages ago, may have changed just too much in his character, for a usual Yordle.
Too much to the point of the Mayor of Bandle City to having to meet him in person and explain to him the details of the new... opportunity... presented to this new one, this Ziggmund.
It was but nearly a year ago that the first incident reports started coming to the Mayor's desk, concerning that one. While at first looking like some apparently experiment attempts gone wrong, some isolated cases concerning an apparent gifted mind whom just needed some guidance, the issues grew over the years into something of a concern, of a person whom was indeed taking a liking concerning some... perilous things.
Such as an incident in an art school, which this Ziggmund attempted to make an impressive paint using different chemicals, apparently inflammable. And then letting out a spark with two rocks, which in the end let to a pretty hot day, and the art school looking like charcoal.
Or another day, when he borrowed a black powder fueled engine from a fellow Yordle, along with a collection of scissors which he split in halves, made them sharp, and combined all pieces into some contraption supposed to make sculpting the bushes easier. Except fellow Yordles ran for their lives, that day, when the 'invention' went haywire, to the point this Ziggmund himself admitted his mistake.
But neither compared when the first reports came out about... those. Those which became the very matter the Mayor had to address that day.
Knocks were heard on the door as the Mayor's secretary entered. "Mister Ziggmund is here.", she informed.
"Good, good. Send him in.", the Mayor replied, taking a deep breath, preparing himself.
As the Mayor turned around, he could see a grown-up Yordle, with caramel fur, a tanned work uniform and in red googles, enter the office. And an uneasy smile, as if he were eternally wondered. Or perhaps becoming psychotic, as if an episode of ages ago, which fortunately departed for Noxus, wasn't enough...
"Ah, mister Ziggmund.", the Mayor greeted. "How nice it is to finally meet you."
"Very nice as well. Also, you can call me 'Ziggs' if you want.", Ziggs started in an almost enticed tone, but still looking everywhere in the room. "That's a very nice room... Very, very nice."
"Why, thank you, mister...", the Mayor replied, almost surprised.
"Though, just personal opinion, that wall right there could be gone.", Ziggmund said, pointing at the aforementioned wall. "Bring some light, a nice view and even some fresh air."
The caramel, young Yordle then reached for his pockets drawing what looked like a red ball with a lid and a fuse. "I can do it right now, if you want it.", he said, smiling wider and almost excited.
"Oh, please, please wait, uh, maybe later.", the Mayor immediately rushed, sounding nervous. A disappointed Ziggs pocketed the bomb back. "In fact, I wish to talk to you about this..."
"Oh.", Ziggs said, a bit worried. "Is it about some of the complaints with my playthings?"
"What?", the Mayor asked, quickly. "No, no, of course not, actually, there is no complaint. Unless there seems to be a problem, is there a problem?"
"Problem? No problem! Who said anything about a problem?", Ziggs asked, letting out nervous chuckle.
"Well, suit yourself...", the Mayor shrugged. "And yet, these contraptions of yours, these... playthings, as you call them, they are... curious, to say the least."
"Oh, are they now?", Ziggs asked.
"How... how does this come from?", the Mayor muttered. "I mean, why do you make... these?"
"Oh, I don't know...", Ziggs answered, trying to put some explanation together, in a rather passionate tone. "It came from me just making things, trying to make that one invention that stood out, until one of them went boom. Of course, inventions, they all go wrong one point or another, don't they? But, unlike the others whom got sad or disappointed or angry, I looked at that boom and I saw something... I, I can't explain it, it rather looked... beautiful. Very beautiful. By then, I just wanted to, what's that word, replicate that, and to try and show the others how beautiful it is."
The Mayor shrugged a bit, attempting to understand it. "Well, it... still scares the others a bit, though.", he said.
"That's because they've never seen it, before, I think.", Ziggs said, smiling. "I mean, how could they see what I see in those explosions? They're just beautiful, those fire plumes, like, blooming wineroses!", he took the bomb out of the pocket again. "Let me show you."
"Wait!", the Mayor shouted too late as Ziggs lit the bomb and tossed it at the wall he pointed. The bomb exploded, sending both a fireball, a loud noise and a shockwave that flew papers, some furniture and dust across the room and made a hole at the wall, the stones collapsing. Some screaming was heard, but was muffled by the explosion. While Ziggs saw it with total glee, the Mayor looked away in instinct, only looking back a bit later, in total shock.
"Did you see it?", Ziggs asked. "How beautiful it was?"
The Mayor hesitated before he gave his answer, clearly not wanting to provoke another event like that one. "Yes, yes, well, but... people don't... get hurt by this?", he asked, concerned.
"If they get close, but they run away everytime, so...", Ziggs answered, rather callously and shrugging. "Pity they don't have eyes on the back and don't want to see them. They're missing quite the show."
"I see... I see...", the Mayor said, anxious. "Well, you see, mister Ziggmund, this... beautiful thing is why I called you here. You see, we've decided something had to be done concerning this... gift you have."
"Something, what?", Ziggs asked, surprised. "Like, is this a... a punishment or something?"
"No, no, no punishment.", the Mayor answered. "It's, instead... we... decided to grant you an... opportunity to put those gifts to work."
"Opportunity?", Ziggs asked, looking weird.
"Yes, yes, an opportunity.", the Mayor answered quickly. "Unless, you're feeling you're not up for it..."
"Well, I'm curious, now...", Ziggs answered.
"You see, your... talent for making things has been catching our eye, now, and we feel, like, a colleague of ours, whose on the material realm in Runeterra, really could use an extra hand...", the Mayor explained, attempting a smile.
"Oh, like, an internship of sorts?", Ziggs asked, frowning.
"Yes, yes, an internship, and I think you'd quite... enjoy it.", the Mayor answered. "He's on a brand new place, there, which he helped found, with a few of the inhabitants. They call it, if I remember it well, Pill-roller, I think."
"Huh, that is quite a weird name...", Ziggs mused, grinning afterwards. "When do I go?"
"Oh, you just need to pack up and then... come talk to me.", the Mayor said, smiling. "Of course, though you may report it back to us, this internship will demand you stay there for perhaps some more time than you'd like. Of course, when possible, you may... return to Bandle City for a visit."
"Hmm...", Ziggs shrugged. "Guess that is fair..."
"Oh, thank you, mister Ziggmund, I'm glad we could come to this.", the Mayor replied. "Also, this colleague, I think you'll quite like him. He is quite a peculiar person as you are..."
"Oh, is he now?", Ziggs asked.
"Yes, he is...", the Mayor answered, accompanying Ziggs to the door. "He's called Heimerdinger."