The enforcers all clear out of the lab without a word, a professionalism from them as of yet unseen by Viktor. Professionalism that the ‘trencher’ mostly attributes to the grim, haunting gore sprinkled around the lab. Something the sheltered local enforcers likely hadn’t imagined could be present outside of the undercity. With that in mind, he’s grateful they’re content with not questioning the buckets lined with dried blood nor the half-naked, grotesquely transmuted scientist.


    That scientist in question, now alone in the lab, has a lot to contemplate. The Solver was eliminated, Jayce is upset with him, and he’s not sure if or how long his lungs will continue to work without the strange monster. It didn’t seem to have any direct control, so he hopes he’ll be fine. But, he has no way of–


    “Ow. Ow. Ow. Sneaky. Sneaky. Ow.”


    Viktor watches in cautious awe as the former hexcore cracks open with a meaty squelch, a column of steam erupting from the interior with a vicious hiss. Three fleshy sickles, each about the length from his wrist to his finger-tip, catch the sides of the metal. A familiar, fleshly body climbs out; The same one he saw forming inside the Hexcore days ago. A sick, putrid smell fills his nostrils before his gaze meets the yellow, sickly glow of the Solver’s monochrome eye.


    Inside the pitch of the fleshy body, a small metal shutter—imitating an eye brow—scrunches the holographic eye in annoyance.


    “Sigh. You. Again.” The Solver drags itself all the way out, bits of flesh and wire falling off in bubbling piles. The last of the trapped steam escapes the disemboweled hexcore like the faint gust of a man’s dying breath.


    The small abomination walks toward the edge of the desk clumsily. In each step lies a swiftness that betrays an uncanny intentionality to each motion. Though its body is of meager stature—probably only half the volume of the original hexcore—he can’t help but feel physically intimidated. It manifests two nearly contradictory auras simultaneously: one of fragility and one of dread. It almost feels like the hard strike of a durable boot would be enough to put the aberration down. At the same time, it imposes a feeling of insignificance in the human scientist. A suspicion arises that the creature in front of him is much greater than its simple, otherworldly appearance would suggest. Heimerdinger’s outburst once again occupies Viktor’s thoughts.


    “How are you alive?” Viktor questions, his observations being slid to the back burner of his mind. The potential he thought had been lost has just been reignited. Although the Solver’s agility in this form will make capture difficult, Viktor must discover and execute a plan to restrain it, quickly. Salvation for hundreds or thousands of people could rest on these next few minutes. Viktor won’t fail.


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    “Easier. To. Assimilate. Than—“


    “Yes, I get it. I take it that’s your core then? Clever design, in my humble opinion,” Viktor inches closer, careful not to step on the lingering patches of sludge on the floor before continuing, “May I have a closer look? Even compared to your work on my leg, your fusion of flesh and steel is incredible,” Viktor holds a hand out, hoping it’ll take the bait; It seemed to have an ego during his earlier conversations with it.


    Getting a closer look, Viktor notices the sickle-like legs aren’t sharp by any means. As far as Viktor can tell, this small creature lacks any kind of natural weaponry. In the lab, nothing besides his crutch or the box of spoons under his desk could come close to being considered a weapon. It doesn''t seem like the Solver could pick anything up anyway with those nubs. If it’s behavior before emerging was anything to go on, once the Hexcore became corrupted, the Solver may have lost the ability of telekinesis and fabrication of objects. At least, Viktor hopes it''s been lost and not simply hidden from him.


    “Your. Technology. Is. A. Joke.” It pauses, a shine of white replacing its normally yellow eye for a short moment, “Bad. One. At. That.” The solver leaps from the desk and climbs up Viktor’s body like a spider. Repeating a single word narration: “climbing,” the entire time.


    Despite the lack of grip, it vertically traverses his bare skin with ease. Each step it takes leaves a soft, yellow glow behind for a fraction of a second before the glimmer dissipates without a trace.


    Viktor slowly reaches for the leftover chains on the desk while the Solver ascends to his shoulder. He tries to be as discreet as possible, but his decades in Piltover have washed almost all his sleight of hand away. The loud rattle of a chain makes him flinch.


    “You. Are. Not. Good. At. This.”


    The scientist immediately grabs at the shoulder-mounted abberation with his free hand, lifting the chains with his other.


    The Solver leaps up to the wall, fluidly evading him by a hair. “You. Do. Make. An. Adequate. Ladder.” It mocks in monotone, crawling quickly across the wall while repeating, “Scamper. Scamper. Serpentine. Get. Evaded. Moron.”


    Viktor ignores its jabs and jumps onto the desk, kicking sludge-covered piles of notes to the side as he gives chase. Unused to this agility and strength, he takes much longer than he expected to climb the desk. When he whips at the wall-treading monster with the chains, he misses quite spectacularly.


    “Idiot.”


    A familiar golden symbol lights up beneath him, covering the entire desk. At the tip of one of the Solver’s legs, a much smaller, identical sigil manifests. With a quick twist of its sickle, the entire desk beneath him distorts circularly. It cracks apart as it rotates around itself, disfiguring into a filthy mass of paper, sludge, and stone.


    Viktor is thrown to the ground with a heavy thud, the breath pushed out of him like a balloon under a press.


    The Solver climbs to the large window of his lab. Another, this time different, enormous yellow symbol shining in a sickly radiance across the glass.


    “Dramatic. Esca—“  The symbol flickers, flashing to a pristine white color. This earns an angry glare from the Solver, which stomps the window, turning the color back to yellow.


    “Now’s. Not. The. Time. Silly.”


    Viktor used the opportunity to get up and throw himself at the three-legged creature, his chains at the ready to finally restrain the evasive core.


    Before he can reach it, the Solver speaks again with a simple command that causes the air to stagnate: “Callback Ping.”


    His body reverberates with the authority of the order, his legs and lungs urging him to halt. He feels like he’s suffocating, his body betraying his mind and soul, corrupted and fighting his will at every step.


    Viktor watches, frozen and horrified as the window finally shatters, “It’s. Been. Fun. But. Also. That’s. Sarcasm. Bye. Bye. Buddy~”


    The Solver launches itself into the darkness of the early morning, careening down the walls of the academy and fading into the endless city below.


    Seconds after, his body complies with him, and Viktor has literally never run faster in his life.