"Ha"
Viktor couldn't help but chuckle, shaking his head.
"Have you ever been to the Hex Crystal Mines? I don't recall them ever turning Piltovans away."
"Uh… not yet. Why bring that up?"
Jayce's brow furrowed, like he was on the edge of understanding something, but couldn't quite reach it.
Viktor watched him carefully.
"Jayce, our original goal was to make Hextech accessible to everyone. But Hex crystals aren't infinite."
Jayce's eyes widened. In that moment, he finally understood where Viktor was going.
Hextech relied on primordial crystals—rare, powerful, and limited.
Scaling it for mass use would be impossible.
But Jayce wasn't ready to give in.
"We can do it! No crystal is beyond replication."
He still believed in the vision they once shared—recreating the properties of the original crystals and engineering stable synthetic Hex cores.
It wouldn't be easy, but with time, it was possible.
"You have no idea how difficult that is," Viktor said, voice tired.
"I've tried."
He had already walked that path. He'd consulted Orianna.
He'd climbed the Floating Castle to speak with two of Noxus's most gifted mages.
They weighed in.
Their conclusion was unanimous: artificial Hex crystals could be made, but the cost—in both energy and resources—made widespread use unfeasible.
"And there's something even more important," Viktor added, glancing toward a nearby armor prototype.
"You haven't changed since coming here. I can see it in your designs—more focus on function and practicality. But you're still viewing Noxus through Piltover eyes. This isn't a manufacturing city-state. We don't need mass production. We need… something singular."
Jayce frowned, unsure what Viktor meant—until Skye appeared, carrying a heavy box in both hands.
"It's time I showed you my Half-Hex," Viktor said.
Jayce peered into the box as Viktor drew out a bracer, gem-encrusted and lined with intricate runes.
"A bracer?" he muttered.
"This piece was tested by the Council President himself," Viktor said, voice flat.
"He tested it three times."
"It failed all three trials."
"There's a flaw?" Jayce asked.
"For them? Many. For us? It's perfect."
Before Jayce could speak again, Viktor vanished—and reappeared behind him.
A thin blade of glowing blue light extended from the bracer, resting gently against Jayce's neck.
Jayce froze.
What just happened?
"Magic?" he whispered.
"Teleportation magic?"
"The essence of Hextech comes from the crystal. And the essence of crystal... is magic," Viktor replied.
"Why are you still afraid to be bold?"
Since arriving in Noxus, Viktor had hardly slept. He consumed knowledge relentlessly, seeking to surpass his limits.
With Ryan's tomes and Hex crystal fusion, he had learned to manipulate magic directly through engineered precision.
He would master it, even if it wasn't innate.
Only by understanding both magic and science could true evolution begin.
His steel frame didn't tire. It remembered everything.
And with each breakthrough, he changed.
He was no longer the man from Zaun.
But Jayce? Jayce hadn't changed at all.
"Watch closely, Jayce. Find the flaw in my weapon—if you can."
Viktor blurred again, reappearing ten meters away.
With a flick of his wrist, the blade of light shot from the bracer, slicing through the air in a bright arc before crashing against Jayce's Hextech armor.
Swish!
The light blade barely slowed as it sliced through the Hextech armor cleanly.
The cart it had been mounted on lay in a heap of twisted metal. Only the Hex crystal remained intact—everything else was obliterated.
"Incredible…" Jayce murmured, unable to hold it in.
'Is this the difference between us, Viktor?'
But there was no despair in his eyes. Instead, he stared at the armguard with a burning admiration.
It was perfect—flawless work.
This was Viktor, his partner. Maybe, deep down, the one who had always been the more brilliant of the two.
"There's not a single flaw I can see. Maybe the light blade's charge time needs some work. But otherwise… It's amazing," Jayce breathed.
"Your eyes are still sharp. Seems you're not completely buried in admin work," Viktor replied dryly, already turning to leave.
The demonstration was over. Time to let others take the floor.
"I'll catch up to you, Viktor!" Jayce called after him.
That back—so familiar, so frustrating.
But this time, he saw the distance between them.
And he welcomed it.
He clenched his fists and watched Viktor walk away, step by step.
"Um… Professor Jayce? I heard you created Hextech. Can you tell us more about it?"
Lucky and the other students had finally recovered from their shock.
But Viktor was already gone, and now all eyes turned to Jayce, wide with awe and curiosity.
Hextech was just so… cool.
"Ah… It's a long story," Jayce said, smiling faintly.
"I just discovered it. Viktor's the one who made it thrive."
"We've got time. Please, tell us!"
Not just Lucky—the whole group had gathered, nodding eagerly.
They felt it in their bones: they'd chosen the right department.
"Well then… this story starts with a fool," Jayce chuckled, settling in.
And so, under the eager gazes of his students, he began to recount the past.
From a distance, Mel Medarda and Erona watched the scene unfold.
Mel smiled faintly as she turned away.
"Seen enough?" Erona asked.
"Yes. He's found his way again," Mel said, her voice lighter.
"It's time I returned to Piltover."
"Understood. I'll make the arrangements," Erona replied with a slight bow.
"No need. I'll go alone. You stay here. Support Jayce. Meet all of his needs," Mel said firmly.
Erona hesitated.
"But… what about the Madam?"
"If she asks, tell her this—I will be the next heir of House Medarda."
Mel's gaze sharpened—resolute, fierce.
Erona's breath caught.
She had never seen that look in Mel's eyes before.
Gone was the poised politician. In her place stood the daughter of a house that rose through power, not politics.
"As you command… Heir Medarda," Erona said, lowering her head with solemn respect.
She crossed her right hand over her heart in the old formal salute.
"First time I've seen that gesture in years," Mel said with a dry smile.
"Just as Mother always said—the Council titles mean nothing next to the name Medarda."
"It's not a conflict, Young Master," Erona replied steadily.
Her loyalty had always been to House Medarda. As long as Mel remained, her allegiance would never waver.
"I know my strengths and limits," Mel said quietly.
"The heir of Medarda is the one with the will to claim it."
With that, she turned and strode away, her steps firm and unshakable.
Erona watched in silence. In that confident, unwavering figure, she saw someone she recognized—
The Matriarch of War
A small, knowing smile formed on her lips as she bowed deeply, never looking away until Mel vanished from view.