Chapter Text
"He dislikes even to touch these things, for they are the runes of an idiotic but nevertheless potent and evil magic; the magic of the think-machine gods, whose cult has one dogma - we cannot make a mistake.”
― Christopher Isherwood, A Single Man
Being homeless wasn't the easiest of second times. The first day was day was a hazy jumble of ripped memories. He woke up in darkness, feeling weightless and numb, like he had been dropped in the middle of the ocean. Blind and stumbling, he began to move without any direction until he hit a damp, slimy wall. He focused his gaze and noticed a faint shimmering ahead. He walked towards it. The space stretched out around him - he realized he was in a cave's maw. Below, in the far distance, he recognized twinkling lights of a city, and guided only by his instinct, he went towards them, like a moth to a flame. From time to time he had to pause, his body suddenly shutting down. He moved one leg, then another, then ran, so any coherent thoughts couldn’t catch up to him.
The second day’s dusk was of realization and fear. He was alone, in an unfamiliar location, and he had no idea how he got there.
How did he get here?
Threads of gold. Ever-moving, pastel kaleidoscope. Ripped fabric. Force, weakness, warmth, coldness, love, hatred. There was no way to cope with this eldritch nightmare. He had to survive first. He continued his long walk in the same general direction that he had seen the city lights, passing through a wood and out of the meadows.
At this point the hunger should have started. He knew it was a process, gradually swallowing every fiber of your being, weakening your body and mind, robbing you of your strength and controlling every thought. Like a deer anticipating a wolf after hearing a rustle in the bushes, he gritted his teeth, waiting for it to arrive.
But the hunger never came. The body remained completely numb. His steps lacked weight, as if he was always hovering just above the ground. His brain was in a pendulum, slipping back and forth between a narcotic euphoria of levity and a blind panic, demanding all the information it was suddenly stripped off of. In an attempt to feel anything, he bit his hand. Human self-preservation instinct generally prevented from clenching the teeth too hard, but he managed to do so until he heard a bone in his finger fracture. It appeared to hurt when he touched the strangely angled, bleeding stump. Or perhaps he was imagining it. He improvised a temporary dressing from a stick and a torn a piece of rag from the bottom of his shirt. He didn't know how much time has passed. He traveled day and night, not sensing any fatigue.
Overhead, the night sky was ominous, almost alive. Breathing. The stars seemed to flicker between pristine white and gold. The stars were not real. He noticed the golden treads. They’re alive, trapped.
The stars were missing something. He was missing something. His brain spun like a rusty cog covered in grime. He couldn't identify what it was, but the absence of it was gnawing at him. The void ached only in his soul - the body was dead, animated by some foul necromancy.
He caught glimpses of the world around him with the approaching dawn. It distracted him from the numbness. Familiar woods and grass, a lizard sunbathing on a rock, a small farmhouse. The sky was maroon blue, lazy clouds traveled on the horizon.
A woman was caring for the hens in the house's front yard. He hasn't seen anyone since "arriving" here. Suddenly, this place was inhabited by other than himself. Real.
His voice got stuck in his throat and the only noise that came out was a phlegm-filled growl as he attempted to greet the woman. She stepped back when she saw him approaching.
"Jayce!" – she yelled, turning towards the house.
That name. It gave him a presence and a place. It belonged to him. He ran up to the fence, cleared his throat and spoke again. ‘Do you know me?’ It was hard to talk; he had to consciously force his throat and lungs to produce words.
The woman eyed him up and down with aversion, hugging the frame of now opened entrance door.
"I don’t believe I do, mister." Despite her youth, she had the steely eyes and wrinkled brow of a diligent worker. From behind her, a man emerged, striding slowly and upright, each step a declaration of the ownership of the land.
"Hello there, traveler. What brings you here?" The man stood next to the woman and crossed his arms. His accent was strange and his words cascaded like he was singing, but they were understandable.
"I’m heading towards the city. Why did you call my name?" His name. Hearing it aloud was a bit perplexing, like if it had been erased from existence. He noticed a pair of plain, yellowish butterflies dancing in the air in a helix.
"I didn’t call you…" the woman looked at him suspiciously.
"You have a half-day walk ahead of you." The man scoffed. "We can give you some water to drink and wash your face, and you can go your own way."
Jayce accepted the offer, even though he wasn’t thirsty. He looked at his reflection in the water poured into the basin – messy hair, long beard and two sickly, red eyes. His existence had grown beyond a name; he now had a face. A face that screamed danger. It made sense why these people were suspicious of him. At the same time they were kind enough to them chase him away. In the meantime, they seemingly went to tend their business around the garden, but whispered discreetly in hushed voices while peering at him from time to time. Jayce sat down and surveyed his surroundings. A bunch of yellow butterflies were fluttering in spirals throughout their garden. They were so fragile, so beautiful.
The woman also turned her attention to the insects and chased them off. "Damn pests." She muttered. She caught his surprised expression. "They lay their eggs in my lettuce and caterpillars eat all the leaves. They eat until it’s all gone."
Jayce frowned at the price an innocent woman's lettuce had to pay for a glimse of a beauty. His thoughts finally caught up to him.
Where is he? Why am I alone? Where am I? Where is he? Where is he?
The missing presence started to materialize. Him. The shadow at his side. His partner. Constantly watching. Where is it/he? He instinctively checked his left wrist, rolled the sleeve and also examined the inside of his forearm. It was marked by a huge, white and pink scar that twisted and branched out in every direction. The mangled tissue concentrated in one spot in a diamond-like shape. Jayce touched the scar's middle. Like everything else, it was numb, and also something was absent. His jewel was missing. No, there was more. It was his work.
Magic.
Gateway.
Answer.
Lost.
"You all right there?" he heard a man’s concerned voice.
Suddenly, Jayce realized what he needed to say and what he needed to know.
"I'm trying to find my friend. Lean, pale, dark hair about arms long. Roughly my height and age. He might be limping. Or maybe not. He might’ve come this way. A… traveler, like me." Jayce’s features tensed. The shadow by his side darkened. Two butterflies reappeared and resumed their hectic dance around the other. "Name’s Viktor."
"I’m sorry; you're the only stranger I've seen in a long time. Perhaps you'll be luckier in the city." The man eyed him, but gave him a kind smile.
Now in a hurry, Jayce thanked them, took a tiny bag of food they had prepared for him, and headed off. With empathy marking thier sing-song accents, they bid goodbye to him.
He took one apple out of the bag and tasted it. It had a firm texture and it was faintly sweet, but it was also… warm. The inside of his mouth was colder than the apple.
He noticed that his finger was healed and the bandage somehow slipped off.
His surroundings shifted. He found himself on the outskirts of the city, surrounded by people and buildings. The typical rush of busy, populated streets was perplexing at first, but it quickly switched to very familiar. There was a friendly mood in the air, everyone beaming a little when the early spring sun caressed their skin. A sense of deja vu struck him when he entered a tiny market square that was identical to Zaun's main area, exept the monument they built in recent years.
He became a beggar, collecting information instead of coins. He located a quiet spot in the alleyway that led to the market and made it his home, asking the passer-bys if they'd seen Viktor. Most treated him with caution, and some kindhearted people supplemented the monosyllabic "No" with the question, "Are you feeling okay?". Their words were like boulders, heavy enough to finally bound him to the ground below. His brain stopped constantly screaming for stimuli, and he began to feel something, even if it was a miserable, sorrowful experience. The rare stars in the night sky of the city have lost their golden hue. It must’ve been his imagination. But sleep never came.
Jayce decided to look around on his own; he wandered the city for a couple of days and picked up a discarded newspaper to finally find out where he was. Suprisingly, he didn't recognize the alphabet. But at the same time, he could understand whatever was being said around him. Even some faces seemed familiar. He asked a shopkeeper if he was in Zaun. Despite shaking his head, the shopkeeper confirmed he was right. Jayce connected the dots. It wasn't his, but it was Zaun. An alternate version of it, with different alphabet, singsong accents and shaking your head in agreement. So he really crossed to another dimension once more. Not distorted and dead, but populated and sunny.
"Distorted and dead. There is no hope. It never was. It’s just your foolish delusion." - The shadow whispered.
A wave of dread surged over Jayce. He cowered in his street corner and fell into uncontrolable convultions. Finally, exhausted, he rested his back against a wall and sank to something more catatonic than sleep. When he regained consciousness, he felt a familiar emptiness of hunger. His whole being shook. For the second time in his life he had no means of support himself, and he was certain that he was getting extensively closer to the edge of his wits. Soon, his small bag from the farmhouse will be empty. And he won't think twice about doing anything to survive once it's gone.
Why would he want to stay alive though? Viktor might as well have been wiped off of existence after what had happened. Jayce was utterly alone. No one to travel with. No one to live with. He could entertain himself with the copies, but his own world was truly gone. The universe lost its central point. The shadow of his tragedy was long, and Jayce saw no way to step out of it.
Jayce was now standing on the river bank. Below, the murky, dark waters swirled in a sluggish pace. If he jumped and took a big breath of water into his lungs, he still probably would barely registered it. Like an old lover, the void would surround him and drag him into the mud, where he belonged. He took a deep breath and held it. And held it… and he wasn’t suffocating. Turns out breathing was one of his missing abilities. The dark waters laughed at his condition. The murmuring water had tricked him.
"Am I interrupting something?"
Jayce shuddered and the hair of his neck stood up. He actually, definitely, strikingly did feel it. Was this voice real or was it just a memory? He yelped in confusion when he turned around. Behind him stood a mountain of a man, dressed in a jacket that didn't really fit him and a cylinder. His attire was filthy, like he’d took it off from a corpse. His fancy clothes were nearly pulled apart by his enormous posture and the effect was almost amusing, yet alarming.
"It would be a waste to throw these fine clothes into the river. Give me your waistcoat." The man demanded.
"You come any closer-!" Jayce replied with a snarl and straightened his back.
"Why are you so upset, man? All I wanted to do was purchase it from you. It could improve your life, and you seem like you could spare a change! A mandel." The thug's singing accent was full of off-key melody as he attempted to speak in a sophisticated manner. Jayce would have laughed, but the man’s tree trunk arms warned him to refrain himself. The thug produced a palm full of dull, copper coins from his pocket.
Jayce had no idea how much of what was it. He hesitated because the bygone university era uniform he was wearing on his back had basically materialized on its own when he had arrived/teleported/been reconstructed here. He distinctly recalled donning a high collared heavy coat and a chest plate before...
Before.
In any case, he had no interest in fighting. He could either jump and see if the river could still claim him in spite of his predicament, or he could grab the money and waste his time somewhere else. He could do both without a waistcoat. The bandit bared his teeth at him - two on the front were missing.
The fabric of his outfit felt like a plain piece of cloth to the touch, but he had no idea what would happen if he took it off. Potentially it could've had become an integral component of his body. A few days earlier, he ripped off a piece of material from his shirt, yet he still put it on himself. Perhaps it fell off, or perhaps it was reinfused.
The man motioned at him to hurry up. Jayce unbuttoned the bottom gingerly. To his relief, that there was no pain. He removed the waistcoat and looked it over; it was a bit dusty, but maintained its elegant cut. It was a shame that this bully will stretch it on his back.
"Now your shirt." Thug’s grin widened even more.
"Fuck off." Jayce tossed the waistcoat on the ground and the man snatched it.
"Too bad. I'd pay more." The copper coins rolled over the pavement as the man threw them out of his hand.
Jayce dropped to his knees to collect them and almost immidetly felt an abrupt and sharp pain in his gut. So his pain response was back now, wonderful. He looked up and saw the man preparing to kick him in the face. With a growl, Jayce grabbed his legs and pulled, causing him to trip and fall onto his back. Grabbing him by the hair, the man dragged Jayce along with him. Jayce managed to deliver a side hook, but it landed weakly at an awkward angle. The man surprisingly quickly got to his feet, and Jayce was kneed in the face. He staggered, desperately attempting to get to his feet.
"Negotiation’s over, man. You give me whatever I want now." The man barked a hideous laugh.
With a gasp, Jayce stood up, his face and shirt red, his nose broken. He raised his fists. The guy flashed a mocking smirk, itching to demolish him.
"Hey, you! Stand down!" some woman yelled from a distance.
"Fuck. A pig." The thug suddenly lost his posh words. Someone approached them. Even though he was fighting his dizziness, Jayce could make out the outline of a woman, half the size of the mountainous assailant. "You ain’t a pig. Just one of the bitch piglets. Traitor."
"I’m a fucking officer of the law and you will respect that! You’re under arrest!"
"Oh, and the two of you piglets are going to take me down?"
"If you want to do it the hard way." There was another voice. Jayce spotted a third person, standing slightly out to the side. A young man, tall and robust.
"Three to one. Very fair, piglets."
"This is not a boxing match. This is you starting shit. So stand down."
The thug decided the conversation was over and threw his fists at Jayce again. The woman hurled herself forward, and Jayce ducked - or, in his state of vertigo, bent over to all fours. She tripped over him, falling face first into the pavement. The thug grabbed her by the back of her shirt, but dropped her after her partner gave him a hard shove. She pulled a small device out of her pocket and cranked the side handle a few times till sparks appeared at the end of the gadget.
"Claggor!" she shouted at her partner, and he swiftly jumped away from the thief. The she jabbed the device to the thug’s side and he imminently dropped to the ground, convulsing as if he was electrocuted. In fact, judging from the sparks the device emitted, he actually was electrocuted. Even in his haze, a curious little gadget piqued Jayce’s interest.
The half-conscious man on the ground muttered something and his nose was leaking bloody bubbles with each breath. The copper coins scattered all over. Jayce picked them them from the mud along with his waistcoat. When he tried to rise up, he stumbled and landed awkwardly on his knees.
"You okay there, champ?" The woman asked as she used her sleeve to wipe some dirt from her face. She pulled him up, grabbing him by the arm. Jayce heaved violently and puked all over her shirt.
"I'm so sorry." Jayce groaned.
"It’s… okay." She attempted to cover up her disgust with a reassuring smile. "You have a concussion, man. We have to take you to the medic." She turned to her companion. "Claggor, can you handle this dead meat on your own?" He shook his head. The opposite ‘yes’ gesture.
Jayce shook a soaked rag which was most likely his waistcoat. "Worth a mandel."
"I bet. Don’t worry about it." She tightened her grip on him and pulled him through the streets. Something was very familiar about this woman but Jayce couldn’t put a finger on it yet.
"Thank you, miss. You’re so brave."
"Like I said, don’t worry about it. We’re almost there, we just need to make it to the end of this street."
Jayce paused, taking a moment to attempt to process what was going on. "You can have my waistcoat."
"Really, man, I don’t need it. Come on!" She sneered, side of her lip yanking up in a frown. He knew that frown. Finally, with a nearly audible snap, Jayce's brain made a connection.
"Thank you, Vi."
"It's noth... Wait, how do you know my name?" she asked, tightening her grip on his arm. She gave him a serious, detective-like look. Jayce was exeriecing some trouble with focusing his eyes. "Okay, you don't have to answer. For now."
To her visible confusion, Jayce couldn't stop himself from sliling broadly. "You look so cool." - he complimanted her. The world was whirling furiously around him. All he wanted was to lie down and rest. He allowed the darkness inside, ignoring Vi's protests.
He’d been woken up by a ray of sunshine creeping in behind his eyelids. He was lying on a sofa in a cramped, little office space. It smelled of dust and something chemical, acidic. Shelves were stocked with vials of various shapes and contents, most of which were watery liquids. The rest of the available space was crammed with books. His hands were patched up and someone clothed him in a simple set of lose linen clothes, his university attire lied folded on a chair next to him. He was extremely worn down for the person who had just woken up, but fortunately the world was no longer spinning. He got up cautiously, still a little bit shaken by the unfortunate encounter on the river bank.
Jayce peered out of the window. Outside, on a small yard early spring frost covered the grass, probably the last breath of winter this year. It was a lovely, sunny day. A cat pounced and stretched its back beneath a budding tree. Jayce surveyed the room some more, only now noticing a full skeleton in the corner. It was peering at him with empty eye sockets, hanging from a hook that was fastened to the top of the head, and wires connecting the joints. Jayce touched the humeral bone - it was not a composite model - it was a real, once-living human. It beamed at him, reveling in it’s state of lack of identity, a bare set of teeth mocking the mortal flesh. Jayce smiled back in defiance, spitefully informing the skeleton that its bones will also eventually turn to ash. Uneven and possibly complicated, as it was for Jayce, the process was always inevitable.
"You may not fear your own demise, but what about your loved ones? Are you ready to bury them in the ground? Of course not. You still think you can defeat their fate." The skeleton grinned even harder.
Suddenly, the door opened. Startled, Jayce jumped, leaving the skeleton alone. Vi stepped in, glancing up and down at him with an imposing frown. It was a familiar face - too familiar, Jayce now realized. It was a huge mistake to reveal that he knew her name. He had to figure out a way to explain it. Violet opened the door wider and another person walked in. It was Caitlyn, wearing her Piltover Enforcer uniform. Jayce pinched himself, attempting to turn his glee into something more neutral as she squirmed.
"Don't mind him, he's just a little..." Vi waved with her fingers near her temple. Jayce had never seen this gesture before, yet it had an universal meaning. While it wasn't Piltover police gear, Vi was wearing an official-looking vest with paragons on the right sleeve.
With a sigh, Caitlyn motioned for him to take a seat on the couch.
"How do you feel?" Cait started to slowly circle the room with hands kept behind the back, establishing control. Jayce was so thrilled to see her. How do you resist the urge to embrace an old friend in a bear hug? Still, this Cait wasn't someone he knew from his youth - she was a stranger. Her stance was powerful and straight like an arrow. She was in her element and looked phenomenal, but at the same time formal and cold. Behind her with her hands crossed, Vi loomed at the door.
"I'm all right." Jayce answered. "I appreciate your help, officer." He turned to Vi, seeking sympathy from his other before-friend.
"Oh, I thought we were past the titles." Vi leaned against the wall. "Although, I’m having some difficulties with my memory. What was your name again?"
Jayce made a half-second pause before answering, unsure whether to tell the truth or not. What would the consequences of revealing his name be? It looked like the purpose of Vi and Cait's visit was to question him and look into his background. And they clearly weren’t his friends Vi and Cait, but their counterparts from the current universe that didn't trust him. Is it…
Could it be that he had a native version of himself, unaware of the doppelgänger roaming around?
Could Viktor be experiencing the same thing? Or potentially another Viktor existed here? There were still a lot of unknowns regarding all those time/space travel antics.
He decided he’d just fumble something again and it wasn’t worth the risk. Actually, he had a chance to get help with discovering the truth by being as honest as possible.
"It’s Jayce. Jayce Talis." He scanned both women’s faces, seeking recognition. Their expressions remained stone cold. "We don’t know each other, officer. I overheard your name on the street."
"Uh-huh." Vi nodded.
"I’m sergeant Kiramann." Cait introduced herself. "You’re in a hospital, Vi arranged you this cozy single room to rest up." Vi winked at Cait, and she promptly turned on her heel, a twitch of smile disappearing as soon as it arrived. "Now I’ll ask you some questions, if I may. You have a house name. Are you from Piltover?"
In some way. "N-not really."
Cait examined his clothes on the chair and dug into his pockets. He didn’t object, they were empty anyway. "If you want to get off the hook, you must cooperate with me."
What was the hook he was on? Several times in his life Jayce was subjected to hostile questioning, mostly over his work, and the rules of the game remained unchanged. In an empty threat there was always more of the former than the latter. He could ask for the specific reason he was under investigation, but he didn't want to press the issue. He had a lot more to gain than to lose from this conversation.
"So, how did you get here?" she asked, putting his garments back in a pile.
How indeed.
Jayce recalled the cave. It was the first thing he saw when he arrived in this place. Back then he didn’t even think of looking around. He didn’t think at all, as if his brain wasn’t adjusted to it. He only felt a rush, an urge to run away as quickly as possible. The only stable point he could see were the city's faraway lights. As each day went on, everything around him came together, the kaleidoscope reassembling itself into a single, synchronized image. Perhaps the blow to the head really did help straighten everything up.
Maybe Jayce had left him there didn’t notice. Maybe Viktor was still in the cave.
He gazed deeply into Cait's eyes and recounted everything he could recall about his surroundings upon waking up – the hills, the woods, even the grass, with each word growing increasingly eager to find this spot. He described the fields and a lonely house owned by a young couple. Cait asked about Viktor, so Jayce gave his general description. Lied that they’re a pair of traveling inventors. She listened carefully with her head to the side like a crow, attempting to snatch meanings between his words.
"Do you remember how long it took you to get here?" She prodded further.
"No. But it could be days. I walked... and walked..."
"From which direction did you come?"
"I… I don’t know."
"The sun, was it shining in your eyes in the morning? In the afternoon?"
"In the morning it shone to my left."
Cait squinted. "There are a couple of lakes to the north. And you saw the city lights on the horizon when you came out of it? So a cave on some kind of incline. I’ll look at the ground records and maps for an area that matches your description and I will check the place."
Jayce sprang to his feet and shook her hands. "Oh, thank you! When you find it, I have to go with you." Her eyes flashed, like a sniper's, assessing the threat in a split second, but she didn't flinch.
Sniper’s eyes immidietly grew softer with concern. "You need to stay here and rest."
"I don't need rest, officer. I will find this cave on my own if I have to." Jayce hissed.
"Calm down." Cait spoke with unwavering authority and squeezed the hands still holding hers, marking that her words weren’t a plea, but a warning. "Well, I cannot restrain you from going. But if you get in my way, I will arrest you."
Vi approached them with nonchalant stride. "I think it's worth to help him. We can't leave people in need jumping. So, what do you think, cupcake?" she asked Cait.
Cait gave Jayce a good measure while acting as though she hadn't heard the cat-call. "He’s clearly confused." Her steel gaze pierced him. "You're most likely a runaway from Piltover. Conveniently, you forgot what you were doing in the middle of nowhere. Clothing suggests someone in the middle class, or it could be a work uniform."
Jayce simply grinned softly, more impressed by her than anything else, while she looked for a reaction. She arched an eyebrow. "When you're on the run, usually you don't treat a police officer the same way you would your friend. Even if it's a pleasant change, I have mixed feelings about it."
Jayce frowned.
"You really stumbled upon him by accident?" Cait asked Vi.
"Well, if for some reason he planned to be fake-mugged in front of me, his accomplice went a bit too far." Vi pondered. "I actually saw him beforehand, walking around the neighborhood like a lunatic, bothering people with questions about this Viktor character. I kept my tabs on him, being outsider and all. So yeah, maybe it wasn't much of a coincidence."
"When did you notice him for the first time?"
"Five days ago."
"I will check in the precinct, maybe he's either wanted, or someone filed a missing person notice. If I manage to locate it, we will ride to the caves as soon as possible, but I’m afraid that best case scenario, if we find anything there, it will be at least a week old dead body."
Vi took a sharp breath. "Cait! It's more of the worst case."
Jayce's world twisted once more, but this time it wasn't just dizziness; rather, it felt as though the earth had split up beneath his feet and he was plummeting into a bottomless abyss. "No! No, it’s impossible, after everything I’ve done…"
After everything I've done I deserve a punishment.
Jayce rubbed his left wrist, where the rune wormed itself under his skin. He forgot - it was no longer there. "It’s… He’s…"
"Okay, I-" Cait took back both his hands in hers. "Hey, look at me. I will do all I can. But please… please be ready." She managed a sympathetic smile. "I will do all I can," She repeated with emphasis "after you tell me what you've done. Doesn't have to be now-." Jayce was no longer able to control himself. Shaking, he collapsed into her shoulder.
Vi comforted him by grabbing his arm, while also releasing the frozen Caitlyn from his grasp. "You don’t anywhere to stay, do you? I’ll ask my sis to allow you to spend a couple of days here."
"…or you could lock him up?" Cait suggested.
"In Zaun we don’t arrest people for not having a bath for a week." Vi gave Cait a sideways look. "Besides, he won’t bail. Ungrateful bastards never apologize after they puke on you."
"-The other man is still in custody?" Cait changed the subject.
"Yup."
They told him to stay put and left, stating that a nurse would visit him in a few minutes. Jayce took a moment to gather his thoughts. It was possible that Viktor was waiting for him, or maybe, maybe he even searched for him too, it was just the fate as always preventing them from finding each other. It can be changed, it can be beaten, if Jayce tries hard enough.
The skeleton in the corner of the room cackled again.
"Oh, shut up, there’s no hope for you." Jayce replied.
All of the sudden, someone banged on the door kicked them open, entering like a storm.
"Room service! How’s my favorite patient doing?"
Jayce raised from the sofa. Oh, yeah, it was Vi’s sister office.
Vi’s sister was Jinx.
"Whoa, Vi found a wild stray this time." It was Jinx, all right. Without the insane eyes and long braids from the wanted poster, but still it was her. The bomber who blew up the council room, killing three members, including Cait’s mom. Gravely injured Viktor, kicking in motion a series of catastrophic events.
She looked him up and down, offended. "I brought you food, man, no need to be hostile. I’ll take my bombs and leave you alone."
Jayce flinched. Bombs?! So this Jinx is also a terrorist?!
"I’m joking, I keep my explosives in the other lab at the mines." Her aversion was quickly changing into distress. "Okay, step back, man." Swiftly she reached inside the drawer of her desk and produced something. It was the electrocution device her sister also had.
Jayce snapped back to reality and found himself towering over her, jaw clenched, fists ready. Jinx was tense like a cat before a jump but still had an aura of calm professionalism. She spoke with her head tilted to the side like a dare. "You’re not the first aggressive patient I had to deal with. Last chance, bozo. Get back on the sofa. Or my little friend here will make you sit down." She waved the device before his face. He could have a good look at the two electrodes at the end, cackling with static current.
He assessed the small, confident young woman in front of him. Okay, it was a different Jinx – one that had an office in a hospital. She cannot be a bad person, right? He just got triggered by something that had no right to happen in this new world. He reluctantly backed off.
"All right, I'll give you something to help you relax." With occasional cautious glances at him, she opened one of the cabinets, took out a syringe and a tiny vial, and then browsed through the pile of documents on her desk. "Oh. You look bulkier than you actually are. Are those muscles are pumped with air?" She poked a needle into the vial and took in some of the transparent liquid inside.
"Okay, give me your arm, please."
He obeyed, deciding he was interacting with nice and helpful Doctor Jinx, and not Mad Bomber Jinx. Yet, he asked "What is it?"
She swiftly found a vein and poured the contest of the syringe inside. "Say bye-bye!"
Bye-bye? It’s poison! Was his last thought before darkness took him.
He regained consciousness again, this time feeling strangely content. He eventually realized he was in a new room, one that was tiny and had white, blank walls. A bed with white linens, a steel door, a little barred window, and a plain wooden table. Jinx left him some food. He pulled at the door. It was closed. Great.
He spend the next hours laying on the bed in solitude, lack of proper sleep wearying him down. He could feel the sun on his face. Small shadows appeared, casted by light worming itself between the leaves of the tree outside the bars. A familiar presence appeared next to him.
Viktor also stared at the sky above, then turned to him. His hair was long, with golden strands mixed with brown ones, and his face was deathly pale. His hands felt like a frozen metal, incredibly cold. A sarcastic smile twisted his lips.
"Say bye-bye!"