ã€ŠArcane Solverã€‹


 Chapter 1: Organic Matter

    The object spun, flickered, spun¡­ but still nothing. Hovering teasingly over the desk, the Hexcore twirled joyfully, reveling in its locked away secrets. Viktor sighed, his eyes squinting at his research papers. When did it get so dark? No matter¡­ he¡¯d just sleep in the lab tonight.

    It had to work tonight; Viktor had no reason to doubt his calculations. He¡¯d double checked, triple checked, and then quadruple checked it. If it wasn¡¯t working¡­ there¡¯s some variable he¡¯s been neglecting to factor.

    One more time now¡­ spin, flicker, spin¡­ no that¡¯s not right¡­

    One more¡­ spin, spin, flicker¡­ that¡¯s worse!

    One¡­ spin¡­ flicker¡­ NO!

    His mind seemed to spin faster than the Hexcore when he launched out of his chair, throwing his papers up into the air. Viktor must¡¯ve stood up too fast¨Che¡¯s just lightheaded. Yes that¡¯s all but¡­ the Hexcore seems different. A symbol, distinct from the runes he¡¯s used to, flickers with gold from inside the azure mechanism. A hexagon with three outstretched arrows.

    The sigil called to him¡­ and he listened. His head clouded with his approach closer, his mind-state matching the Hexcore¡¯s erratic and nonsensical movements. Viktor collapsed onto the desk, reaching desperately toward the golden beacon. Before he could grasp the core, his body failed him, and he fell limp, coughing blood onto the desk before he finally struck the cold floor.

    Unbeknownst to the unconscious scientist, his blood began to smear across the desk, crawling like a dying centipede toward the Hexcore. The golden hexagon spun, levitating the human¡¯s blood into the air before pulling it inside, absorbing the blood.

    [AbsoluteSolverString = True]

    Viktor stood before the Hexcore again, now accompanied by Jayce, who was speechless. Together, they watched a normal pot of plants grow rapidly and¡­ change. Instead of the leafy green, healthy growth Jayce expected, the plants began to redden, turning to steaming flesh and meat before liquifying as viscous gray sludge, flowing across the desk.

    ¡°Viktor¡­ this is¡­ how did you even¡­?¡± Jayce tried and failed to wrap his head around how Hextech could even begin to do this. Enhanced movement, reduced weight, and incredible durability were all effects borne of deliberate manipulations of tried and tested equations¡­ but Viktor¡¯s notes, Jayce noticed, had almost none of that. In fact, the same manipulations made systematically to the Hexcore yielded different outputs seemingly at random.

    ¡°It reacts to organic matter! After the catalyst was introduced, it became clear to me, Jayce: the Arcane is not just a tool, it¡¯s a thing, a being, a collective!¡± Viktor explained, breathing heavily as he shuffled through his hastily written, but incredibly detailed notes, looking for a specific experiment, ¡°I wanted to see its reaction to something it couldn¡¯t do, like manipulate an object that wasn¡¯t nearby, and what did it do?¡±This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Jayce attempts to follow, hazarding his best guess at what Viktor could be getting at, ¡°It¡­ pulled the object from the other room?¡± Jayce sighed, wishing Viktor would just tell him. The council was especially exhausting today, and although talking to Viktor was a great way to wind down, he couldn¡¯t manage to match his lab partner¡¯s energy levels. Especially not over such a gruesome display.

    Jayce¡¯s drooping eyes launched right up though when Viktor rolled up his sleeve and explained: ¡°It threw me.¡±

    ¡°I-It what?¡± Jayce gawked at the large bruise across Viktor¡¯s arm.

    ¡°It threw me across the room before fabricating a near identical spoon to the one I had been asking it to retrieve.¡±

    ¡°How¡­?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, Jayce. I theorize it¡¯s alive. When I signalled it again to retrieve the spoon, it just¡­ ignored me. When I signalled a third time, it did this:¡± Viktor pulls a box out from under the desk. A box, Jayce saw was completely filled with identical metal spoons. If Jayce was silent before, he might as well not have a voice anymore.

    ¡°I noticed after I was feeling light-headed in the lab that something might be wrong with the ventilation. I was informed that the lab had abnormally meager air pressure, but the ductworkers could not pinpoint a cause. I haven¡¯t yet deduced the means by which it developed such an ability,¡± Viktor explains, hoping Jayce catches on to the horrifying, though intriguing implications.

    ¡°It got the mass to make spoons by transmuting the air? Viktor¡­ we need to show Heimerdinger! He might be able to help control this!¡± Jayce exclaims happily, his earlier fatigue vanishing at the prospect of such an exciting discovery. Though, upon fetching his mentor, his hopes were quickly dashed by the head counsellor''s immediate, desperate comment.

    ¡°That symbol¡­ you must destroy it. Now.¡±

    ¡°W-what? Professor, you haven¡¯t even¨C¡± Viktor tries to reason, but is quickly cut off.

    ¡°You don¡¯t understand, my boys. This thing, that¡¯s taken over your work: I¡¯ve seen it before. It destroys nations, consumes everything and anything! If ever you¡¯ve respected my words, heed them now: eliminate it before it does us.¡± Heimerdinger pleads.

    ¡°Professor, listen! The Hexcore can transmute air to metal, plants into flesh! If we control it, the possibilities are virtually endless! It could even cure me!¡±

    ¡°Viktor, my boy! That is not the Hexcore! The very presence of that symbol shows your work has gone too far! This is a violation of the ethos, and I will have it destroyed! One way or another.¡± Heimerdinger stomps, literally putting his foot down. Jayce knows, though, despite being head of the council and dean of the academy, his mentor cannot stop their research unilaterally.

    ¡°You¡¯ll have to go through the council first, professor. They¡¯ll see the wonders we can do with this, even if you won¡¯t.¡± Jayce steps between his mentor and his partner, blocking the former¡¯s path.

    Heimerdinger glares, then turns to make his way out of the lab. Viktor leans on his crutch and sighs after the door slams shut, knowing his research just got a lot more difficult, ¡°I think I might know someone else who might be able to assist us with our quandary.¡± His reluctance is not lost on Jayce, but now, faced with the opportunity to cure Viktor, his and his partners'' reservations must be set aside.

 Chapter 2: Retirement

    ¡°This is Piltover. The city of progress, equality, and achievement. We used to be united. Used to be one. But we¡¯ve lost ourselves. Some mysteries are better left unsolved. We need to hold our rogue elements accountable to the ethos, and make sure¨C¡±

    ¡°But who holds you accountable?¡± Jayce interrupts. His mentor¡¯s prepared speech falls away with a dumbstruck ¡°Pardon?¡±

    ¡°Shimmer is rampant in the undercity! Enforcers fear to set foot in the lanes! Meanwhile, how have you spent your time, Professor? Getting in the way of hextech, of helping the good people of Piltover thrive!¡± Jayce shuffles through his papers: endless lists of forged cargo manifests, countless enforcer resignations, and numberless investment offers for hextech he wasn¡¯t permitted to take. All of this because of Heimerdinger¡¯s negligence. Jayce knows now of all times is for action.

    ¡°You can¡¯t speak on helping the people of Piltover while you house the Solver in your own lab!¡± Heimerdinger yells, his face turned red under the mass of orange fur. This is the first time he¡¯s ever seen his mentor this upset. Not even with the initial break-in on his lab was the professor this enraged.

    ¡°The Solver?¡± Jayce questioned, the name unfamiliar, ¡°You mean the Hexcore?¡±

    ¡°No! Oh, my boy¡­ you still don¡¯t understand. But how could you? That¡¯s a burden only I here carry¡­¡±

    ¡°Then explain, Professor! Why would we throw out one of our biggest breakthroughs when you won¡¯t tell us anything!¡±

    ¡°I already did! Do my words mean nothing to you, boy?¡±

    ¡°You told me it was dangerous, yes, but you¡¯ve said that verbatim before every step Hextech has taken. Yet, here we are, still climbing higher and higher! You¡¯re the father of Piltover, professor, and your years of service can never be repaid,¡± Jayce gestures to the rest of the council, who, through the whole argument, were content to watch the two scientists¡¯ back and forth. Ultimately, every member of the highest body in Piltover knew what was about to happen, and they were ready. Heimerdinger had been a thorn in Hextech¡¯s side, which made him a thorn in every trade deal and every investment the rest of the council tried to make in recent memory. This motion was a long time coming.

    Jayce hesitates, but a quick look down at his papers, evidence of his mentor¡¯s negligence toward the city, and steels himself, ¡°I think it¡¯s time we gave the father of Piltover a well-deserved retirement¡­¡±

    ¡°Jayce¡­ don¡¯t do this¡­ you don¡¯t know what you¡¯re doing¡­¡± Heimerdinger pleads, but his voice falls on deaf ears.

    The vote is unanimous, and Heimerdinger leaves without another word. No one motions to have his chair brought away. Perhaps out of respect, perhaps out of guilt, or perhaps something else entirely, his seat remains at the head of the massive table. Empty.

    <hr>

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    Viktor reaches the Bridge of Progress by evening. Inside his tightly clutched cane hid a vial of Singed¡¯s modified shimmer. Viktor didn¡¯t fully trust Singed, but he did trust his work.

    The bridge, a beacon of Piltover¡¯s status, was swarming with enforcers armed to the teeth. As he made his way to the barricades and floodlights, a female enforcer raised her hand.

    ¡°Halt. You are subject to inspection, wait your turn,¡± She raised her rifle, the implication clear to Viktor. His feet shuffled, but as he moved his cane, he froze. He couldn¡¯t let them see the shimmer. Since he was from the Undercity, Viktor never got the opportunity, nor ever really wanted to pull this card. Unfortunately, emergencies sometimes call for unsavory methods.

    ¡°Excuse me, ma¡¯am. I¡¯m Jayce Talus¡¯ Hextech partner, I have clearance to pass as I please,¡± Viktor gestures to his nice clothes and well-made cane as proof of his status. His face wasn¡¯t plastered all over merchandise like the Man of Progress, so he hopes this is enough to convince them to at least hear him out or let Jayce verify his identity.

    The enforcer hesitated for a moment, glancing at the long line of undercity residents before nodding her head, ¡°We might be able to make an exception for you, sir. Sorry for the misunderstanding,¡± she moves aside and gestures to a nearby bench, allowing Viktor to sit down and let out the breath he was holding. The crippled scientist clutches his cane close as people in the line begin yelling and pushing. He hopes Jayce won¡¯t hold it against him.

    Apparently, Viktor wouldn¡¯t have to wait long to find out. Jayce, flanked by two enforcers who departed off with a wave of the counsellor''s hand, looked down the bridge at the enraged crowd before glaring down at Viktor.

    ¡°Do you have any idea how this looks? I order a blockade and my own partner violates it! What were you even doing down there?¡± Jayce whispers with barely contained anger.

    ¡°You ordered this?¡± Viktor repeats back with shock, trying to understand this sudden, drastic action his friend has taken, ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°There are people down there who seem hell-bent on destroying us! The terrorist attack on Progress Day, the forged manifests, these people are dangerous, Viktor!¡± Jayce exclaims, confused at his partner¡¯s seeming obliviousness.

    ¡°Jayce, I¡¯m from the undercity. My friend is too, that¡¯s why I was down there,¡± Jayce lets out a large sigh and attempts to help Viktor up, only to have his arm slapped away.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡­ I¡¯ve had a lot on my plate,¡± Viktor notices the bags under Jayce¡¯s eyes, a sight all too familiar to the workaholic scientist. ¡°Was your friend able to help?¡± He inquires, the anger having completely left his partner''s tone. Regardless, Jayce didn¡¯t seem in much of a mood to take Viktor¡¯s smuggling of illegal drugs across the bridge well.

    ¡°No,¡± Viktor responded curtly, clutching his cane even tighter. ¡°He said nature was resistant to this sort of¡­ tampering.¡±

    Jayce responds with a bit of optimism, but is cut off by the sound of shattering glass and roaring flames. The counsellor glares back at the puddle of fire. The yelling had broken out into a full riot, one the enforcers are well equipped to handle. When Jayce looked back toward Piltover¡¯s skyline, he thought he saw a bright spark of gold through his lab¡¯s window at the academy¡­

 Chapter 3: Partial Transmogrification

    As Viktor stands before the Hexcore late at night once again, fiddling with a syringe full of shimmer in his hand, he hesitates to continue. Heimerdinger is old, ancient by some definitions, so heeding the yordle¡¯s words seems obvious. Heimerdinger was wrong though, quite frequently in fact. Almost a decade ago the dean of the academy had nearly wiped Piltover¡¯s hands completely clean of Hextech. It was only because of Viktor¡¯s less-than-legal interference that Piltover established the Hexgates and became the global trade hub it is today. In the morning, Jayce had relayed Heimerdinger¡¯s words during the council meeting, and, despite the professor¡¯s rather poor track record in regards to Hextech, the claims his mentor made gave him pause

    The Hexcore was different, nigh unrecognizable after just a day without Viktor¡¯s supervision. Its blue aura had entirely shifted to a golden, sickly hue. The rune matrix orbiting the core mechanism was no longer two dozen spinning plates, but four, metallic, jittery surfaces with silver and yellow lines covering each. At the center¨Cwhere the gold symbol was when he passed out¨Crested a fleshy blob with three, sickle-like legs extended outward like arrows, connected to the main body by thick, black wires. A metal framework topped the central mass with small cylinders sticking out at odd angles, looking vaguely like a kind of muted, grafted hardhat.

    Viktor remembers what the Hexcore did to the plants. He also doesn¡¯t want his molecules to end up transmuted like his lab¡¯s air. Singed assured him the variant shimmer could allow him to survive a violent transformation, so he would literally be trusting his oldest friend with his life. Singed, as far as Viktor knew, had no reason to deceive his former pupil, and if Viktor didn¡¯t try this, he would certainly die within months.

    Viktor looked past the syringe to his chaotic desk, flooded with notes and theories. Hextech filters, ventilation, more efficient Hexgates among countless other ideas. Oh ideas¡­ He has so many ideas¡­ so many plans¡­ if he could live even half as long as Heimerdinger, he could do so much good!

    Viktor drew the short end of the straw at birth. A poor cripple from the undercity¡­ it was luck and copious amounts of skill and grit that brought him this far. He wouldn¡¯t fall before reaching the finish. He can¡¯t let it all be for nothing. There are people that help now. They can¡¯t wait, so neither can he.

    Without another thought, Viktor stabs the shimmer into his crippled leg, watching his veins bulge with a vibrant, inhuman purple. The braces he placed around his leg to guide the transformation light up with the same sickly gold as the core.

    Willed by his actions, the matrix spun to point one of the four symbols at him. This one was a hexagon inside two ovals, giving the depiction of¨Che assumed¨Can orbit, with both ovals being contained by a final outer circle. As the symbol shined on his leg, Viktor heard a meaty squelch and a snap, his leg twisting painfully in order to point straight forward. The shimmer made the pain of the Hexcore¡¯s manipulations just barely tolerable, keeping him teetering on the edge of unbearable agony as the Hexcore and shimmer broke and remolded his fragile body.

    The matrix spun again, illuminating a second, different symbol. Again, a hexagon sat at the center, but with a perfect wheel surrounding it. The wheel was split into eight segments, the boxes separated evenly by straight lines. As the transformation continued, the segments along the wheel would light up in seemingly random configurations. Viktor¡¯s skin began to peel away slowly, revealing the bloody, bulging shimmered muscles underneath. Viktor¡¯s eyes widen, purple tears flowing down his cheeks as metal shards erupt from between his muscle fibers. He screams, but the pain overwhelms him, cutting his cries short as he faints into his chair.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    <hr>

    The next time Viktor wakes up, his head throbs painfully. An agonizing migraine is hindering his mental faculties, leaving him doubled over in his chair. Without thinking, he pushes himself to his feet, clutching the sides of his desk. His unsteady hands slip on the countless papers, sending a pile of his notes scattering into the air. As he drops, time seems to slow. Viktor¡¯s eyes catch the reflexive motion of his right leg as it shoots out to catch his fall. So much faster than anything he¡¯s seen¨Clet alone from his own body. What¡¯s become of the disabled limb is¡­ otherwordly.

    His ¡®skin¡¯ has been¡­ destroyed. Discolored and patchworked with steel staples haphazardly tacked on, barely covering the cold face of rusted metal and poorly painted, faded yellow lines. The metallic plates, looking unreasonably aged and dilapidated, cover the insides of his entire leg and foot like a sick mockery of knightly armor, worn below the skin rather than above. The transformed pieces end just below Viktor¡¯s hip. There, a thick metal clamp divides his humanity from the abomination below.

    The plating only covers beneath the front of his leg, leaving a jungle of twisting wires, and, more concerningly, bones and pulsating purple flesh exposed in the back and sides, visible between the numerous rips and loose stitches. From the look of the muscles inside his new leg, the shimmer, human, and Hexcore all fused to form a revolting amalgamation of magic, flesh, and metal. Despite it all, though, it feels better than the rest of his body; Like he just took off a cast he¡¯s had since birth. Viktor reasons if he saw the inside of his normal body he¡¯d be disgusted all the same, so best not to think too much about the interior of his leg. He can¡¯t reconcile the exterior, though. No amount of logic could overwhelm the instinctual aversion his humanity gives him to .

    Viktor gingerly places his right foot back to the ground with a metallic thunk; An odd sound considering the spongey, dead skin around his sole. From that step, he can tell the leg is much heavier than its human counterpart. Despite that, it feels much more powerful and nearly weightless, like he could break through the tile to the vents underneath if he stomped hard enough.

    Viktor could feel his heart beating faster as he considered the transformation and its worrisome, though exciting ramifications. It looks so much cleaner than he was anticipating¨Cafter all, he half expected to lose his leg altogether¨Cthough still atrociously off-putting and obviously inhuman to any onlooker. He¡¯d need to hide it when going out¡­ but should he show Jayce? Most likely his lab partner would be squeamish, being from Piltover and unused to such sights, Viktor doubted he would take it very well. Perhaps doing some tests, obtaining some experimental data, and then presenting it to Jayce as proof of his success would allow logic to quickly overtake whatever reflexive, emotional response the counselor might react with.

    Viktor activates the wall lights, ready to analyze his new leg more thoroughly. The lab brightens immediately as though the sun has suddenly risen. The darkness of the lab typically helped him ¡°get in the zone,¡± so to speak, and the glow of the Hexcore would often be sufficient to¨C

    The scientist pauses and stares at the desk he¡¯d worked in for hundreds of hours. Above the carpet of scrawled notes and speculations: four, rusty metal plates levitate motionlessly in the air. From inside his most promising creation, peeking between the narrow gaps of the plates, a lurid, golden eye bore into his soul.

 Chapter 4: First Contact

    ¡°What are you?¡± Viktor asks breathlessly, asking himself aloud with pure shock in his voice. He blinks a few times to make sure he is seeing straight, that his all-nighters in the lab hadn¡¯t taken a heavier toll than what he estimated.

    Perhaps Viktor is just dreaming, because the eye seems to roll at his frightened expression and wary demeanor. He clutches his now unneeded cane out of habit and walks back over to his desk, unused to the corrected motion of his right leg. Viktor imagines any onlooker would assume him to be faking a limp right now.

    As the scientist stands beholding his changed creation, a sinking feeling pools in his stomach. Resounding sounds of static emerge from the flesh inside the Hexcore. He readies his cane, but before he can even blink, a hollow, metal cylinder emerges from the fleshy mass inside the Hexcore, sprouting up like a plant with a steel stem and cable vines. Simple bearing joints move the optical device upward to meet him. Surrounding the eye, a circle of jutting teeth and familiar, faded yellow stripes threaten to eat him whole.

    Viktor holds his breath when metal eyelids slowly close in a manner reminiscent of a Piltoven camera lens, the eye seeming to squint

    ¡°Can you understand me?¡± Viktor asks, taking a wobbly step back, noticing the bits of dried blood and rust that cling to the outstretched mechanism.

    The ¡®eyelids¡¯ open and the yellow dot rolls around the dark inside of the camera like a marble loop.

    Viktor shuffles even further back, holding the back of the chair in front of him in preparation for conflict until a monotone, female voice sounds out from the Hexcore. ¡°Of. Course. Silly.¡±

    Viktor looks on cautiously, taking note of the odd manner of speech: the small but significant pauses between each word, the way it drew out the last word, and how the Hexcore flickered and pulsated as it spoke.

    ¡°How¡­ are you capable of speech? What are you?¡± Viktor questioned, curiosity overtaking his fear. He shuffles just a tad closer, but stumbles back when the eye suddenly lurches at him, stopping just before hitting him.

    ¡°Easier. To. Assimilate. Than. Explain.¡± The eye opens wide, a bright, threatening glimmer muting even the laboratory lights in comparison.

    ¡°I seldom travel the easy path: I¡¯d rather an explanation, please,¡± Viktor retreats farther back, making a mental note of where he estimates the extended arm¡¯s maximum reach is, and then backing a good few meters past that.

    The thing pulls back, responding with a quick ¡°No.¡± An air of disappointment radiates out of the Hexcore at his refusal. Its pulsing slows to a barely noticeable, heartbeat-like speed. Viktor could swear it was almost pouting. He didn''t have much time to consider its strange behavior before the arm and eye retracted back into the fleshy ball at the center of the Hexcore. Immediately following, the outer shell slams closed with a harsh screech of metal, dropping onto the desk with an accompanying dull thud.

    Viktor¡¯s reservations about telling Jayce disappear immediately, but not before he puts on a pair of sufficiently baggy pants.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

    <hr>

    ¡°Viktor, I¡¯m really not in the mindspace to do this right¡­ now¡­? What the hell is that?¡± Jayce glared, squinting his eyes at where the Hexcore normally levitates. Instead of his partner¡¯s project, the counselor sees a rusty, yellow streaked contraption bound in chains. It vibrates and shakes violently, with drops of blood leaking from the small cracks between the rune matrix. Jayce notices that where the runes used to be, a much larger symbol branded overtop at four locations, each similar at the center but growing more distinct as the patterns branch out. ¡°What did you do to it?¡± Jayce questions quietly, realizing his long day just got much longer.

    ¡°I¡¯m not entirely sure myself. I noticed changes occurring over the past few days, but when I returned to my lab to run an experiment, it was unrecognizable. It spoke, Jayce,¡± Viktor clutches his cane, his knuckles turning white. ¡°I hoped you could assist me in another conversation, just in case.¡±

    Jayce nodded, watching the Hexcore roll around awkwardly on the desk until the chains went taut, only for it to roll another, seemingly random direction. Taking a deep breath, Jayce quickly unlocks the chains and retreats back to Viktor, readying a small workshop hammer.

    ¡°Exasperated. Groan. Finally. Wow. So. Lame.¡± The camera launches out and takes in its surroundings in jittery, rapid turns until stopping upon meeting Jayce¡¯s gaze, ¡°New. One. Intrigue.¡±

    Jayce narrows his eyes, taking only a moment to glance at Viktor before turning back, remembering Heimerdinger¡¯s words before his forced retirement, ¡°Are you the Solver?¡±

    ¡°Surprised. Shocked.¡± The creature¡¯s eye widens, the lens completely pulling away to mimic a wide-eyed expression.

    ¡°Is that a yes?¡± Viktor questions, moving behind Jayce.

    ¡°I. Am. THE. SOLVER. OF. THE. ABSOLUTE. FABRIC,¡± It says with a significantly louder voice, leaning dramatically far to the side to stare at the pair judgmentally. ¡°It. Would. Be. Rude. To. Just. Call. You. Vik. Wouldn¡¯t. It?¡±

    ¡°Enough, what¡¯s your game? How did you take over the Hexcore?¡± Jayce readies his work hammer, the Solver tilting back to its original position just above the former Hexcore. Its base is still wrapped in chains, but the top is unlocked enough to allow it to look around.

    The eye poorly mimics a twitch with its shutters, ¡°Take. Over? There. Was. No. ¡®Take. Over.¡¯ The. Flesh. Gave. And. I. Took.¡±

    Viktor gently pushes his partner towards the lab door, sighing and coughing, ¡°Forget it, Jayce. It''s clearly speaking nonsense, I¡¯ll just chain it back up. Sorry for wasting your time,¡±

    Before Jayce could even think about objecting, the laboratory door slams and locks. The counselor stands there motionless for a long moment. He has a key, obviously, but he trusts Viktor. If his partner is hiding something¡­ he believes he of all people can figure it out. However, Heimerdinger¡¯s advice still echoes in his busy mind. Viktor is a genius: the smartest person Jayce knows. But even geniuses can be tricked, and geniuses can be hurt. Jayce sees Viktor¡¯s condition worsening with each passing day, but if Viktor didn¡¯t want him there, and Viktor was already able to chain the Solver before, then he¡¯d leave him to his devices. If anyone could cure Viktor¨Cit would be Viktor.

    In regards to the Solver itself, Jayce knows he should seek out his missing mentor¨Cthe yordle disappeared immediately after his dismissal¨Cbut would Heimerdinger even talk to him after what happened? Jayce betrayed him, and the scientist couldn¡¯t think of anything more pathetic than crawling back to the professor so soon after everything that transpired at the council.

    As he walks down the academy halls, Jayce carefully considers his next actions. First and foremost, he needs to talk to Mel: nothing else clears his cloudy mind quite as well as her.

 Chapter 5: Deep Breath

    ¡°Why would you say that?¡± Viktor hisses, glaring at the mechanism occupying his desk, ¡°It was not a ¡®Give and Take¡¯ scenario! Not some kind of bargain!¡± Viktor glances worryingly toward his right leg, hoping Jayce wasn¡¯t looking too closely at his fake limp.

    ¡°Yes. It. Was.¡± The Solver shoots forward as it had done before, but Viktor stands his ground, ¡°I. Give. Some. Of. Me. You. Give. Some. Of. You~¡± It continues in an eerily sing-song voice as if trying to scare a child with a creepy nursery rhyme.

    ¡°Some of me? My blood?¡± Viktor remembers the flesh only began to form after his coughing fit not too long ago. Is that what made it like this?

    ¡°You? False. Blood? True.¡± It pauses, its gaze moving to his concealed leg. ¡°Are. You. Ashamed. Of. It? More. Can. Still. Be. Done.¡±

    It¡¯s true. Viktors crippled leg has been fixed, but his fissure lung is still tearing through his body. Having the Solver in his lung would be much more invasive than the limb replacement. His lungs are really what he wants cured, so Viktor¡¯s leg was used as a sort of patient zero. After all, if something went wrong, he could live without a leg; He couldn¡¯t live without his lungs.

    But, what is truly worrying: Viktor is out of shimmer. It¡¯s not like he can galavant back down to the undercity to see Singed with the blockade still up. He violated it once before, and that caused a riot and a small but noticeable hit to Jayce¡¯s reputation as a trustworthy counselor. Viktor can¡¯t do that to his lab partner, not again.

    Although, Viktor still isn¡¯t entirely sure how necessary the shimmer is. The Solver is clearly sentient, and it doesn¡¯t strike him as idiotic. Whether it has restraint or not is a whole other question he doesn¡¯t want to find the answer to. But at this critical junction, he¡¯s faced with the same final options as always: die with certainty within months or die now with the chance to live longer.

    ¡°Could you do it?¡± Viktor asks, approaching his desk cautiously.

    ¡°Yes. With. Certainty. Prideful. Tone. But. I. Need. Assurances.¡± Viktor narrows his eyes, still unconvinced of the candor of the Solver¡¯s narrations.

    ¡°If you fix my lungs, and only my lungs, I could get you a living creature of your choice. I imagine a pig or cattle would be sufficient? Alive, I assume?¡± Viktor offers, knowing that getting livestock for experiments is trivial for him with his near endless supply of academy grants and permits.

    ¡°Not. Cattle. But. Another. Living. Animal. Of. My. Choice. Would. Do. As Payment.¡± Viktor clutches his obsolete cane out of habit, moving one hand to rest on the desk.

    ¡°One animal of your choice, and I get my lungs fixed¡­ fine. Let me prepare for the procedure,¡± Viktor attaches his braces, carving into the metal the symbols and runes he used before on his leg that allow him to guide the transformation. The Solver does not comment, remaining quiet and serene. Over its eye, a circle of dashed lines light up one by one repeatedly.

    Viktor finishes his preparations, approaching the Solver with only immodest leather wrappings covering him, ¡°I¡¯m ready,¡± Viktor places his hand on the former Hexcore, bracing himself for what he knows will be the most painful experience of his life.

    His fears are vindicated, when a wave of unimaginable agony washes over him. Then, nothing. His body flaps back as if stuck to a meat hook on an especially windy day. Golden tethers reach out from the core and hold him, some burying into his chest like parasitic worms. Viktor can¡¯t hear it, but he knows he¡¯s screaming. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Only one voice can be made out above his internal cries: ¡°Material. Insufficient. Damages. More. Severe. Than. Anticipated. Collection. Protocol. Active. Scheming. Target. Acquired.¡±

    A bright, golden light swallows the room and his mind. Viktor is reminded of his youth, when he found himself on the order between Piltover and the undercity. There, he could see the sun clearly, but the blinding radiance he witnessed on those days doesn¡¯t come close to what he sees now.

    <hr>

    ¡°¨Ckey. Wakey. Sleepy. Head. Wakey. Wak¨C¡±

    ¡°Stop!¡± Viktor clutches his head and lifts himself up, throwing himself into his chair.

    ¡°You. Are. Fixed.¡± Viktor side-eyes the Solver, hesitating to look down to his chest. If he¡¯s alive¡­ the procedure must¡¯ve gone on without any issues.

    The scientist looks down slowly, holding his breath. His gaze doesn¡¯t make it all the way down, as he¡¯s suddenly distracted by the entire laboratory floor having become a soup of blood and bone.

    ¡°What did you do?¡± Viktor gasps out in response to the macabre sight, hoping and praying this is his blood.

    ¡°Oh. There. Was. A. Mishap. Tee. Hee. I. Am. So. Naughty. Giggle.¡± The solver fakes a chuckle. Its lower shutter moves up cheekily. Viktor decides he¡¯s better off not knowing what it did to him.

    Instead, Viktor¡¯s gaze greets his chest which looks¡­ surprisingly normal. His skin seems¡­ off in some areas, like it was haphazardly melted together with something else. Additionally, other parts of his skin look discolored and grafted on, similar to his leg, though not nearly as copious. One, long line of stitches patched up the center of his body like an axis of symmetry, dividing him like livestock.

    Viktor takes a deep, heavy breath, and releases. He feels like he just removed a gag he didn¡¯t know he was wearing¡­

    ¡°This is¡­ incredible. Thank you.¡± Viktor smiles toward the Solver, a whirlpool of gratitude swirling in his eyes.

    ¡°Gross.¡± The device moves away, scrunching a shutter up in disgust.

    ¡°Well¡­ I¡¯ll go get you your animal. What do you want?¡±

    ¡°Human.¡±

    ¡°Absolutely not.¡±

    ¡°Human.¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Hu¨C¡±

    ¡°I said ¡®animal.¡¯¡±

    ¡°Humans. Are. Animals. Silly.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s obviously not what I meant.¡±

    ¡°Maybe. Specify. Next. Time. Annoyed. Expression. I¡¯ll. Settle. For. Something. Else. Maybe.¡± The Solver once again dives back into the core, peeking at him with a frustrated look in its eye through the gaps of the rune matrix. It speaks only one word every few seconds now: ¡°Scheming¡­ Scheming¡­¡±

    Viktor sighs, grabbing a mop from the nearby janitorial closet and attempting to clean the soup of blood and broken bones. Normally he wouldn¡¯t be able to clean like this, so despite the horror and tediousness, he reluctantly welcomes the opportunity to explore his body¡¯s newfound fitness.

    As he places the buckets of blood onto his desk for the Solver to access, he notices a strange pair of bones peeking out from the crimson. Two, partially shattered segments of human spines. He hadn¡¯t noticed them when he was cleaning, the mindlessness of the task clouding his judgment; But here, standing before the Solver, his blood runs cold at the only reasonable conclusion. He needs to find whichever enforcer was on interior patrol last night, and he needs to find Skye.

 Chapter 6: Confrontation

    Every single one of Jayce¡¯s days is a long one. Every day he gets up, does paperwork, heads to the council, does paperwork, and then goes to bed. Every night is sleepless or restless and somehow feels longer than the proceeding long day. When he lays down, he thinks about paperwork he hasn¡¯t done, discrepancies he thinks he missed, and gets up to do more work. He thought talking to Mel would clear his mind, help him relax, but her proposal about weaponizing hextech only made his foggy mind even cloudier.

    Earlier that night, Jayce gave Viktor space to sort out whatever he was dealing with regarding the Solver. Now though, Jayce needs Viktor. His partner has always been adamant against the weaponization of hextech, so between the contrasting stances of Mel and Viktor, Jayce finds himself stuck. He himself used to be stalwart against the council¡¯s propositions of weapon manufacturing, but the recent terrorism, murder of enforcers, and theft of a hexgem has put his mind in an adversarial disposition regarding the undercity.

    Jayce barely notices the dark of the academy halls flood with artificial light. The incandescent sconces shouldn¡¯t turn on automatically for another few hours at least: so someone must have turned them on manually. Only a few people would be awake this time of night. A patrolling officer, Skye, and Viktor. He hopes it¡¯s Viktor, since it would suggest his work-absorbed colleague has some free time to talk.

    Though, as Jayce looks up to meet the sound of footsteps, his musing is cut short by the horrific sight sprinting toward him: Viktor, of all people, running almost naked at full speed through the illuminated academy halls. His best friend¡¯s formerly crippled leg seems rotted, with discolored, patchwork skin, poorly connected staples, and long stitches across the whole thing. Beneath the patchwork skin, Jayce sees bits of sharp, rusted metal jutting out, struggling to cover an ever deeper layer of intricately connected wires.

    ¡°Viktor? What happened? How are you¨C?¡± Jayce doesn¡¯t see the cane anywhere. It must be the Solver¡¯s work, since Viktor¡¯s condition has been worsening for years. It wasn¡¯t too long ago that his cane had been upgraded to become a crutch in accordance with his body¡¯s failing motor functions. Jayce¡¯s excitement starts to get sapped by Viktor¡¯s panic, though.

    ¡°No time! Jayce, where¡¯s Skye?¡± Viktor¡¯s eyes glimmer with desperation.

    ¡°What? She was with me not long ago, but she said she wanted to show you something and left hours earlier. Now what happened? Why are you bloody?¡± Jayce¡¯s mind rapidly forms theories on what Viktor did, his brain power all going toward his friend and the cure to his condition.

    ¡°No¡­ no¡­ Jayce, what have we done¡­?¡± Viktor¡¯s voice drops to a whisper, ¡°What about the enforcer on morning duty?¡± Viktor asks, taking his friend''s lack of immediate response as a sign that Jayce doesn¡¯t know much more than he does. Beckoning Jayce to accompany him, Viktor begins running down the halls as fast as his new leg can take him.

    ¡°Viktor, how can you run? Breath? Are you..?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Jayce, but that doesn¡¯t matter now! I think I have been reckless and careless in the pursuit¡­¡± Viktor shudders as they reach the lab door, having run around the whole academy without even a sniff of a patrolling officer. There should always be one 24/7 guarding the academy halls.

    Viktor glares at the slightly ajar door, his hand reaching out slowly to open it. He stops and pulls back when Jayce launches forward and tightly grasps his wrist.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Jayce questions, still completely confused.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to confront it, I think it killed them¡­¡± Viktor hesitates, realizing just how porous his logic is after taking just one step toward executing his plan. But he has to do this, no one else. This was his project.

    ¡°Viktor, if that thing really killed them, what makes you think we can fight it empty-handed? Let¡¯s go get the enforcers, we can tell them an experiment went wrong and we need it dealt¨C¡±

    ¡°Jayce! If it really can fight back like that, I can¡¯t risk anyone else. I can¡¯t risk you, either. Stay back here. I can handle it.¡± Viktor meets Jayce¡¯s eyes, determined to do whatever he can.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°No. I can¡¯t let you. I¡¯m going in with you, or the enforcers go in alone.¡± Jayce meets his partner¡¯s eyes with matched determination, staring him down.

    Viktor doesn¡¯t like lying. He doesn''t like using people, either. But, he has ambition, and he has responsibility. The Solver¡¯s potential is undeniable, and so is its danger. As a scientist, and as a citizen of Piltover, Viktor is responsible for guiding that dangerous potential to a place where those in need can be helped as much as possible. Right now though, he¡¯s facing a dilemma:

    He could follow ambition: Walk in right now and confront the Solver, probably find a way to spare and imprison it, and keep the path of using it to help others open. Or, he could wait for the enforcers and eliminate the Solver before anyone else can be hurt.

    His morality gives an obvious picture, but Viktor doesn¡¯t know if it can even be destroyed¡­ he doesn¡¯t know if it would be able to retaliate against the enforcers¡­

    With all that in mind¡­ maybe he could have his cake and eat it too? Viktor could go in right now, confront it, and, depending on its response, simply make his decision then. After all, more information is better.

    ¡°Do it then,¡± Viktor sits down, his body flopping onto the tile with a thud. ¡°I¡¯ll wait for you here; I''m not exactly presentable right now,¡± Viktor chuckles lightly, gesturing to his mostly naked, partially nightmarishly transformed figure.

    Once Jayce runs off and the counselor¡¯s footsteps are no longer audible, Viktor knows what to do.

    He stands up and reluctantly opens the door, taking in the familiar sights of his lab. The Solver, ever-creepy, is perched on the desk as usual, the metal of the former Hexcore used like an off-color flower pot for the gory mechanism sprouting from it.

    ¡°Excuse me¡­¡±

    ¡°Jumpscare!¡± In an instant, the device launches toward him, meeting him face-to-face. Viktor still flinches, despite the numerous times the strange creature has done this.

    ¡°Hi-Hello¡­¡± Viktor takes a deep breath and approaches. ¡°Did you¡­ see anyone enter the lab earlier?¡± He asks, keeping his voice low and flat.

    For a man who¡¯s known his death will come for him early, when face-to-face with it he can¡¯t help but retain the temptation to flee.

    ¡°Unsure. I. Was. Very. Focused. During. The. Procedure.¡± Its eye squints at him, seemingly trying to guess what he¡¯s getting at.

    ¡°You have no idea? What about all that blood? Was that from me, or something else?¡± Viktor glares, his eyes quickly narrowing in return when he realizes vague probing wouldn¡¯t do him any good.

    ¡°Don¡¯t. Know. Flesh. Is. All. The. Same.¡± The Solver gives a quick eye roll and backs away, hovering just above the rusty base, which has started shaking.

    ¡°What is wrong with you¡­¡± Viktor can tell, easily, at this point; the evasiveness, the excuses, the obvious lies¡­ there¡¯s no way it didn¡¯t kill them, and the Solver¡¯s indifference sickens him more than any crippling disease could ever hope.

    ¡°I know what you¡¯ve done. Listen when I say your only hope now is fully complying with me and Piltover.¡± Viktor knows its deceitful, monstrous nature, but the devil on his shoulder is whispering. Chains worked before, so maybe it could still be restrained. It hasn¡¯t attacked him yet, and he doesn¡¯t see any potential besides ramming to do physical harm. If he could figure out how to control it, the amount of people that could be saved would be incredible!

    Irrespective of his desires, he knows now his time is up. Down the hall thunderous footsteps resound. Shortly after, the shouting of a half-dozen fully armed enforcers resounds around the room. Jayce stands behind them, unamused and frowning at Viktor.

    ¡°Get back here, Viktor, please.¡±

    Viktor takes a look at the Solver, who is unfrightened, even a bit entertained, and walks to Jayce¡¯s side.

    Before Viktor can make any requests, multiple gunshots ring through his ears. Opening his eyes, he meets the fading gaze of the camera. The Solver¡¯s cracked lens drops to the counter and fades into gray sludge, steaming then solidifying within seconds.

    ¡°Nightmarish. Laugh¡ªttttt¨Ceeeer¡ªrrrrr.¡± Its voice glitches out, deepening and finally stopping after a few seconds.

    Viktor stands there, unmoving, as enforcers sweep the lab. They don¡¯t bother him, and neither does Jayce. The counselor simply shakes his head and walks away, sighing, his original plan of respite having backfired spectacularly.

 Chapter 7: Core

    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¨C

    ¡°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¡ªimitating an eye brow¡ªscrunches 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¡ªprobably only half the volume of the original hexcore¡ªhe 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¡ª¡°

    ¡°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¡ª¡°  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.

 Chapter 8: Exhumation

    Jayce really didn¡¯t think this week could get worse. A hexgem was stolen, a terrorist attack killed half a dozen enforcers, the Hexcore turned into the Solver which murdered his assistant, his partner went behind his back, countless trade discrepancies were ignored by the enforcers, Caitlyn also going by his back and flaunting his authority, and this morning the largest attack in recent memory happened on the bridge of progress.

    All of this, and Jayce still hasn¡¯t slept since his partner¡¯s diagnosis.

    Furthermore, the week just got a lot worse. Not just for him, but the whole of the city.

    Ahead of the councilor is the Piltover cemetery. A bastion of genuine respect, gratefulness, and patriotism among a city dedicated to keeping up appearances. This morning, he had laid to rest many brave enforcers¡ªthe sheriff too. The sheriff dying in action isn¡¯t an uncommon occurrence. The job is given for bravery and commitment, so the type of person who gets the job will seldom retire of their own free will. Marcus though¡­ Jayce didn¡¯t expect what was found upon his death. The sheriff being a turncoat, providing protection to Undercity gangs and lying for them, is an absurd idea.

    Regardless of the man¡¯s character, his lack of courage, or whatever motivated him to do what he did: the late-sheriff didn¡¯t deserve this¡­

    Ahead of Jayce, dozens of medical staff wander the historic cemetery, making frequent detours to vomit in unused corners of the yard. Whatever disrespect puking in the cemetery gave, it was nothing compared to the horrific desecration he sees now.

    Bodies buried just hours ago, resting still in uniform, had been upturned carelessly like weeds. Plucked from their polished caskets like a toddler picking daisies. Each coffin sits smashed open, the wood twisting unnaturally and splintered at every angle.

    Piles of soil Jayce himself helped place had been recklessly thrown outward. It was like a pack of wolves had tirelessly torn into the ground and left the debris behind with indifference.

    Worse are the condition of the bodies. Most had been stripped clean. Clothes and garments buried with the soldiers looted from their corpses like an abandoned pawn shop. Even the worst graverobbers would¡¯ve stopped there, but whatever depraved beast did this kept going.

    From Jayce¡¯s quick gaze it looks like the culprits were searching for something. Bodies were disemboweled, flayed, or dismembered. Something had dug through each corpse and torn them to pieces. Almost all of them had their eyes and internal organs entirely removed, placed coldly by the perpetrator into large piles of gore and meat that now swarm with flies.

    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    A scream draws the distraught counselor¡¯s attention, and he looks to the side, bracing himself.

    A hand, with skin degloved and fingernails replaced by rusted metal claws crawls weakly toward a newly arrived coroner.

    Sickened, Jayce pulls himself to the side and vomits, his half-digested lunch joining the medical staff¡¯s meals in the vacant corner of the yard. A single gunshot rings out and the hand goes still, being escorted out as evidence immediately.

    Shortly after, an enforcer approaches him, a gas mask normally reserved for the undercity locked onto his helmet.

    ¡°Counselor Talus, sir. The preliminary report is ready for your review. I¡¯ll be here when you¡¯re ready,¡± The man sets a clipboard down on a makeshift table¡ªerected by the coroners to identify body parts¡ªand sits down. Jayce truly wishes he could do the same, but duty calls.

    ¡°Read it out for me, please. But, leave out the¡­ unnecessary¡­ parts,¡± Jayce covers his mouth and turns away from the enforcer, taking in the exhumed bodies and severed limbs sprinkling the pristine turf.

    ¡°No bodies were completely taken, and it¡¯s unlikely this was done by a human or an animal. The prints in the mud seem to have been left behind by a small, lightweight three-legged creature. Additionally, a single culprit seems likely since bodies were exhumed one by one, left to right, according to the footprints. It¡¯s unknown how it moved such large amounts of soil or broke into the caskets without any¡ª¡°

    ¡°Hold on, you all have no idea who did this? Three-legged creature¡­ don¡¯t you hear yourself?¡± Jayce snatches the clipboard, skimming over the report with disgust. Most prominent in the document is a list of all the missing body parts. Men with their muscles cut into and removed at different locations. Enforcers with their skin flayed and taken, never in the same spot twice over different bodies. No intestines, lungs, or internals other than a young woman¡¯s voice box was taken. Most disgustingly though, a little girl, presumed to be a living bystander who saw the scene, had her scalp torn off and most of her skeleton stolen. Finally, at the conclusion, Jayce can only mutter a single word: ¡°Why¡­?¡±

    ¡°W-well, we have reason to believe that whatever did this wasn¡¯t targeting the enforcers, but all recent burials or suitably vulnerable targets. Some body parts have not been found or recovered, and in whole the stolen pieces seem to form an entire body when assembled¡­¡±

    _________________________________

    ¡°Jayce! I need to speak with you!¡± Viktor runs down the road, wearing only half of his normal attire. Gone are the standard Piltovan flourishes, leaving only a simple shirt and pants to cover himself.

    ¡°Viktor? I¡­ not now. I¡¯m sorry. It¡¯s not you¡­ just¡­¡± Jayce holds his head. He¡¯s upset with Viktor, but he knows his best friend must have a good explanation. No, the reason he doesn¡¯t want to talk is entirely the scene at the cemetery. The sight still hasn¡¯t left his mind.

    ¡°Jayce, it¡¯s urgent. The Solver didn¡¯t die! It¡¯s alive, and it escaped the lab. I¡¯ve been looking all over for it, but I need help. Please! I¡¯ve made a horrible mistake, Jayce¡­ and I need your help,¡± Viktor pleads, holding the spooked counselor by the shoulders as he begs.

    Jayce meets his gaze and silently gestures to the cemetery. Viktor approaches warily, his eyes widening at the coroners and the unforgettable sight of desecrated, horrifically maimed and looted bodies.

    ¡°Who..?¡± Viktor chokes out.

    ¡°They think it¡¯s some three-legged creature. A demon, some are saying¡­¡± Jayce scoffs, frustrated at the clunessness of the investigators.

    ¡°It can¡¯t¡­ no¡­ it can¡¯t be¡­¡± Viktor shakes his head, clutching it tightly. ¡°This is all¡­ I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    ¡°Viktor?¡± Jayce stands up, resting a hand on his partner¡¯s shoulder.

    ¡°The Solver did this: I¡¯m certain. Its new form matches everything you¡¯ve said, and its depravity was shown to me last night. It was absorbing blood and bones back then too¡­¡± Viktor looks to Jayce, his eyes glossing over with fear, ¡°You don¡¯t think¡­?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s trying to make a body¡­¡± Jayce takes a deep breath and holds his friend close, ¡°We¡¯ll get rid of it, once and for all. We bit off more than could chew messing with that monster,¡± Regardless of Viktor¡¯s errors, he¡¯s his friend. His brother. With him being cured, there¡¯s nothing they can¡¯t do together. The Undercity, the Solver, the late sheriff¡­ Piltover has enemies all around and within. The time has come to root them out.

 Chapter 9: Dead Weight

    That night, Vi, the Undercity resident, propositioned Jayce to strike at the first target on his list: Silco. That man is the current ¡®ruler¡¯ of Piltover¡¯s unsavory underbelly. Jayce was frustrated at the council¡¯s unwillingness to act, so he reluctantly agreed to go along with her and attack behind the council¡¯s back. Worse, he went behind Viktor¡¯s back, creating a Hextech weapon. His partner would understand; they wouldn¡¯t stand a chance otherwise. It was a risky move¡­ one he now regrets taking.

    The blunder has left him with the body of a child, roasted from the inside by a pure blast of energy from his own Mercury Hammer. No matter what he does, it seems he can¡¯t escape the dreadful face of death.

    ¡°We¡¯re done here,¡± Jayce stands up suddenly, resetting his hammer to its idle state and walking away. He saw too much blood today. First the bridge, the cemetery, now this. The Solver would be an easier target. A lone, deranged monster that shows its true colors instead of hiding behind children and innocents.

    ¡°What do you mean ¡®done?¡¯¡± Vi braces her Atlas Gauntlets, the large Hextech gloves hissing, ¡°You¡¯re really gonna stop cus¡¯ of one dead kid? Do you know how many more of them are out there? How many hundreds more there¡¯ll be because of people like you who bury their heads in the dirt!¡± Vi yells. It became hard to tell if the shaking of the gauntlets was even due to the rumbling machinery.

    ¡°I said enough! We¡¯ve already gone too far,¡± Jayce looks to the Atlas Gauntlets, ¡°Give me those back.¡±

    The gauntlets whir alive once again, their exhaust hissing in tandem with their wielders exhale, ¡°Make me.¡±

    Jayce frowns, pulling the hammer up to position, ¡°I can¡¯t let you leave with those.¡±

    Vi cracks her neck, preparing her opening stance, ¡°Well, guess you¡¯re gonna have to kill another trencher.¡±

    Jayce braces himself, but stops at the sound of broken screaming coming from behind him. Vi¡¯s eyes widen, stopping her in her tracks, and Jayce slowly turns. Behind him, in a dimly lit spot between two shimmer vats, an enforcer stands unnaturally still. The entire uniform and helmet is blue and blurry, looking fake and misplaced among the rest of Jayce¡¯s surroundings.

    ¡°H-H-Hell-o-o-o. C-counselor, there¡¯s¡¯s¡¯s a situation upstairs,¡± The enforcer spoke with a heavy, broken, masculine voice.

    Jayce looks at Vi, who points at herself and then shrugs cluelessly. Jayce turns back, ¡°Who do you think you¡¯re fooling with this?¡±If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    The enforcer stops suddenly, each limb flailing for a short moment before turning back to normal, ¡°I¡¯m not fo-o-o-ooling anything! Pe-people are dying up there! The beer-ones are here!¡±

    Jayce simply glares, but Vi rolls her eyes, ¡°This is a joke.¡±

    She yells as she launches forward with her gauntlets, much against Jayce¡¯s immediate command not to.

    The static-y figure can do little as a Hextech powered fist slams down. Little results from the impact bit a small flicker of the figure¡ªignoring the crater in the concrete.

    ¡°O-oh! wo-o-ow!¡± Its voice cuts in and out, ¡°I couldn¡¯t see this coming! You know, this reminds me of the time¡ª¡°

    Jayce and Vi stare incredulously at the apparition as it begins ranting. Though, when one of the broken Chemtank guards starts getting dragged away, both of them immediately turn toward the noise. The metal of the suit releases a deafening screech as it grinds against the rough floor, causing the blue enforcer to stop talking. It releases an exasperated groan before disappearing.

    Instead of the deep, heavy voice from before, a light, monotone feminine voice resounds around the room. The origin comes from behind a Chemtank. It¡¯s a voice Jayce recognizes, one he unflinchingly readies his hammer to. Vi follows suit, circling around the back of the broken armor.

    ¡°Maybe. This. Is. Much. Harder. Than. I. Thought. Creepy. Giggle.¡± A camera, familiar to Jayce, reaches up from behind the Chemtank, taking in the two Hextech-armed combatants.

    ¡°What are you doing here? Actually¡­ it doesn¡¯t matter: I won¡¯t let you continue anyway,¡± Jayce¡¯s hammer opens up, the blue sphere of pure energy inside charging up a shot, ready to blast the Solver to pieces.

    Vi looks at Jayce with surprise, noticing the recognition between the two. She has no idea what she¡¯s looking at with the Solver. But, if Jayce of all people is ready to throw down with it on sight, it can¡¯t be good. So, she gets ready too.

    ¡°Callback Ping.¡±

    At the simple phrase, Vi feels her stance break, the gauntlets dropping to her sides as one hundred pounds of dead weight. Whatever mechanism Jayce magicked up that makes the gloves feel light as a feather now fails under the mere words of the monstrosity in front of her.

    Similarly, Jayce¡¯s hammer closes and drops to the ground with a powerful thud, cracking the concrete it lands on. He struggles to pick it back up.

    The eye of the Solver lights up in a radiant explosion, illuminating the entire room in gold. Rectangles filled with text and an odd, hexagonal symbol brand each surface of the room with searing heat. The text is unreadable in the blinding light, but Jayce can make out the silhouette of Vi rushing toward the Solver.

    Even with the gauntlets as dead weight, she uses them to her advantage. Slinging them over her head and spinning, she uses the momentum to grab and launch the Chemtank¡¯s body, chucking it at the camera.

    It blinks as it dodges, making the blinding light flicker and become white for the slightest moment, ¡°Stop. It. Moron-bot. This. Is. Getting. Old.¡±

    Jayce rushes forward too, lugging the hammer behind him like a club as he sprints. Like Vi, he uses the weight to help his attack, spinning and swinging with all his might. The Solver¡¯s camera, sparking and twitching as its pupil rapidly transitions between white and gold coloration, gets smashed to pieces, clattering across the ground.

    His hammer turns back on, just as the Atlas Gauntleys do. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a fleshly ball dart into a waste pipe of the refinery, a flash of gold accompanying it. Jayce sighs, knowing it won¡¯t be gone until the snake¡¯s head is cut clean off.

    Vi frowns, whipping around to Jayce, ¡°What the fuck was that?¡±

    Jayce just shakes his head, taking note that the body of the Chemtank Vi had thrown was now gone without a trace. Instead of explaining, he simply wipes his hand along the text branded into the walls of the refinery, now cooled and legible. The text prints in flawless calligraphy:

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    [ Host Construction Failed      ]

    [ Insufficient Materials {47%}  ]

 Chapter 10: Holographic Echo

    Upon his retirement, Heimerdinger felt lost. For centuries he¡¯d been the head of the council, steering Piltover in a safe direction. It was no easy feat guiding the city of progress through the narrow tunnels of scientific innovation. It was an objective that took his utmost attention, leaving little time for him to personally invent or enjoy the finer things in life.

    He thought, maybe, descending to the Undercity and offering his assistance to the denizens would help him clear his own mind, but, he couldn¡¯t have been more misguided.

    Jayce was right, this time: the Undercity was horrible. On every street corner stood a down-on-their-luck fellow huffing something or other. Every pass he made, someone would try to pickpocket him; If not for his hood, he¡¯s sure every hair would¡¯ve been plucked from his head. Even when he found a rare bright-eyed lad in one of the alleys, a parent shirked the child away as if the yordle would snatch him up if left alone. After seeing the rest of the city, he couldn¡¯t blame the parent.

    So, there he was, walking down the docks by the bridge when he stumbled upon an impressive inventor by the name of Ekko. They hit it off, and here he is now: The Firelights¡¯ hideout. An enormous hollow housing a suitably gigantic tree. The greenery sustains itself off the nutrients and water from the dilapidated pipe system, which carries groundwater and runoff to the flora.

    Across the massive tree, houses and facilities perch comfortably on the enormous branches like watchful ravens, overlooking the rest of the concrete hollow from their man-made nests.

    Eyes glared down at him from the moment he arrived. The former counselor accepts their distrust of him. He realizes now the consequences his neglect of the Undercity has wrought on millions of citizens over the years.

    Ekko snaps his fingers playfully, knocking him out of his self-imposed, mental stupor, ¡°I need to go see about some inventory mismanagement or something in one of the nearby posts. Won¡¯t be too exciting, but you wanna come anyway?¡± Ekko smiles, dropping his activated hoverboard before quickly leaping onto it. He holds his hand out to Heimerdinger, welcoming him happily.

    ¡°Ah, yes! I was simply pondering some rather unexpected realizations. I suppose I still have a lot to learn, even about my own city!¡± Heimerdinger takes Ekko¡¯s hand and hops on, taking to the skies with the young lad before deciding to make some small talk, ¡°Did you see the recent news? Nasty stuff, I must say. I don¡¯t envy poor Jayce¡¯s position right now.¡±

    Ekko shudders, nodding his head, ¡°I wonder who could¡¯ve done that mess¡ª¡®specially up topside; The chembarons are monsters, but they always follow the money. What happened at the cemetery was just plain sick. It hurts thinkin¡¯ about, honestly¡­¡±Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    Heimerdinger can¡¯t help but wonder how the Hextech partners are handling the Solver, too. Since he left, so much has already happened. Reports of gunshots from the academy and a double-homicide has left him worried sick. He¡¯s been too preoccupied with Firelight business to head back, though he has been tempted. The professor also knows the gang¡ªdespite their benevolence thus far¡ªisn¡¯t keen on letting a ¡®piltie¡¯ know their hideout location and then waltz back home. Ekko took quite a bit of flak from his second-in-command for bringing Heimerdinger there at all. He truly appreciates the boy sticking his neck out to keep the yordle around.

    ¡°We¡¯re here,¡± Ekko swings down suddenly, launching behind a few boulders and down a ruined pipe until reaching a decently sized warehouse. The entire structure is dilapidated, the wood rotting and falling apart at every spot but the floor. Heimerdinger isn¡¯t familiar with Undercity tactics, but he assumes it¡¯s a form of camouflage.

    Ekko drifts down to the entrance and helps him off the hoverboard, slinging the homemade contraption onto his back with a satisfied sigh.

    ¡°So, inventory, huh? Hehe! I do love me some organization!¡± Heimerdinger hops forward, Ekko following carefully. Something has put him on edge.

    ¡°There should be guards here¡­ get back,¡± Ekko pushes the professor behind him and raises his pipe. With a non-verbal count, he kicks down the wooden door of the ramshackle building, ¡°I know you¡¯re in there, show yourself!¡± Ekko barks, walking in slowly. He shines light between every shelf and every crate.

    The glint of metal catches his eye. He turns and notices one of the crates improperly sealed. In fact, the top seems somewhat ajar. He gestures to Heimerdinger, keeping his eyes locked ahead at the dark aisle of the warehouse.

    The professor leaps up and smacks the lid off, causing it to tumble and land with a creak. Inside the box, beneath broken cogs and rusted pipes salvaged by the Firelights, a shine of red reflects back. Heimerdinger pulls the box down and rummages through it, his furry hands stopping when he pulls aside a faded valve. Behind where the scrap rested his the empty leer of an eyeless face.

    Heimerdinger jumps back with a frightened yelp, thumping against the wall. Ekko diverts his eyes for just a moment, seeing the rolling head of Jave¡ªone of the stationed guards¡ªat his feet.

    Ekko sighs deeply. There¡¯ll be time for mourning later. The loss of a comrade is something to lament in safety. Whoever did this will pay: for that he¡¯s certain.

    Ekko clears each aisle quickly, banging his pipe loudly against the metal shelves that fill the building, ¡°Come out, bastard! I might only knock half your teeth out if you surrender right now!¡±

    Turning his head back after clearing another aisle, Ekko greets the figure of the second guard he placed on duty. From far down the hall, Koran¡¯s gaze meets his own. Her eyes are neutral, her body standing eerily still in static blue light. The Firelight¡¯s form flickers slightly. She looks unnatural, as if someone painted her into the scene without shading or coloring.

    Ekko winces as she screams, the figure spasming before flickering once again, instantly resetting to the neutral state. Her body begins moving seconds later, each action exaggerated and fake as if puppeted by an amateur ventriloquist.

    She smiles, but no emotion appears in the static visage. Ekko calls out her name hesitantly, ¡°Koran?¡±

    Her face blips, her mouth moving out of sync with her words, ¡°Yes! Hello! That. Is me! I am¡­ Koran! Can name you a give?¡±

    Ekko blinks, startled. The voice is clearly hers, but monotone, dry, and utterly inhuman. His confusion quickly turns to anger at the pathetic attempt at impersonation, ¡°Don¡¯t play with me, whatever you are. Show yourself.¡±

    ¡°No no! It¡¯s me! Wa-a-ait, is that a hoverboard..?¡± Her voice stalls out before shifting to become lighter and more robotic when Ekko ignores every word, ¡°Why. Does. This. Never. Work?¡±

    The Firelight leader glares, stepping closer and closer. During his silent approach, the apparition flickers faster and groans dramatically. Whoever thought they could fool him with that needs a good lesson on the Undercity. And, what better way to teach than to beat the knowledge into their head?

 Chapter 11: Chimera

    ¡°Is. It. The. Blue? Or. The. Low. Resolution?¡± The doppelganger wonders aloud, looking to her feet with feigned sorrow.

    Ekko ignores the weak display, rushing forward boldly. Assuming the hologram to be immaterial, he kicks off a metal shelf and leaps upward. In the darkness, his light picks up the shine of a hanging chunk of metal¡ªa projector of some kind, he theorizes. Swinging his pipe at the device, he hears an annoyed, ¡°Ga-awd. F-fu*#!. Da-amn. It.¡± right before it got smashed to pieces by a single strike.

    From along the rafters, something falls, plopping to the floor with a gentle thud. A humanoid, Ekko observes from the dim silhouette.

    The Firelight turns back to Heimerdinger, who, believing the fighting is over, waddles closer to him. He stops though when a sickening crack of bones leads the yordle to hide behind another box. Ekko readies his pipe at the small figure who¡¯s struggling to stand up.

    ¡°Groan.¡± The person says in cold monotone, narrating herself, ¡°How. Annoying.¡±

    An arm whips around the torso, pushing off the ground at an impossible angle. Steaming piles of gore fall off her body as she lifts herself to her feet, ligaments cracking as they attempt to right themselves to a somewhat natural position.

    Ekko backs up warily, lifting his light-stick up to see the girl clearly. A tattered, Piltovan black dress adorns her, covering her down to the mid-thigh. Her dress holds splotches of dried blood that seems to have dripped down. Following the red trail, her legs are bare, the skin sickly and discolored. Long slits open in the calves and arms, revealing the metallic texture of wires and hard plating underneath. The faint glow of chemtech shines underneath parts of the rotted skin, each part stitched together poorly like an apprentice tailor¡¯s first attempt at sewing.

    She takes her first step toward Ekko on black, shiny stilettos. On some of her steps she slips, the entire foot twisting and breaking as she lands on her ankle. However, when she lifts her foot the next time, the bones seem to have already repaired themselves. Her movements are all sluggish and exaggerated, like she¡¯s missing key parts of her skeleton.

    She reaches to her neck, dragging her chin up to fix her posture. Two sets of matching hands move synchronously on her arms. Following the mechanics in her arm, a smooth, glossy white material composes the inorganic hands. But, resting directly above them like a pair of gloves are fleshy hands. Despite seeming to be only fat and skin, the hands move on their own regardless.

    As her head tilts forward, Ekko has to stop himself from puking. Large, empty eye sockets greet him. The skin has been stretched out to widen the socket, leaving gaping black holes as most of her face. The same skin wraps to the head, discolored and patchworked. The shades on the patches are different as if every piece was collected from a different person. Her neck doesn¡¯t even have skin, just a flexible metal pipe that connects the head to the torso.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    A large, perpetual grin with dagger-like fangs stretches ear to ear¡ªnot that the corpse-girl had any. Nor did she have nostrils, only a small bump where a nose would be.

    The only feature she owns that looks normal is her hair. Dark and full, her locks cascade down to her hips, styled well and covering most of the head besides the face. A large, childish, black bow sits on the back of her head, ill-fitting to the rest of the grim body.

    Ekko reaches his pipe out, pressing against her chest to stop her from advancing, ¡°What the hell are you?¡± He chokes out, examining the monstrosity. A concerningly long, black tongue lulls out of her mouth and flings up, licking down an eye socket which he realizes is actually glass.

    ¡°Lllllick.¡± She narrates, dragging the ¡®L¡¯ out as she wipes her tongue along her face.

    ¡°Did you just¡­?¡± Ekko pushes her back farther, the empty eyes igniting in a flash of sickly golden light.

    White pupils appear, despite the initial yellow glow, shaped as large X¡¯s. They dart around the glass curiously, seeming confused and unaware of her surrounds.

    ¡°Hello!¡± She says happily, the monotone replaced by a sing-songy, sweet voice, ¡°Do youuuu¡­¡± Her voice trails off, quieting until none of her speech is audible.

    As quick as they came, the pupils vanish, replaced by red triangles that flash a warning. Ekko lifts his pipe up and taps the head cautiosuly, the entire thing flopping backwards over ninety degrees. He gasps, but quickly switches to a combat stance when she reaches up and rights her head. This time, the pupils are yellow, the voice back to its creepy monotone, ¡°Thank. You. For. Waiting.¡± She smiles wide, tapping rapidly in anticipation, ¡°Just. Kidding!¡±

    ¡°Die.¡±

    She launches forward with literal breakneck speed, her head snapping to the side as an enormous sickle made of tendons and steel sweeping toward Ekko. He rolls backward, dodging the slash by a hair. The room screeches as rows of shelves are severed in two, salvaged parts and crates flying across the room. The walls are lacerated, cut into like a knife into fresh meat.

    Heimerdinger shakes nervously, hiding behind the now destroyed boxes, the sudden attack having gone right over his head.

    When casual, arrogant footsteps pass by him, a sense of relief floods him. But, as the Professor becomes weightless, he knows instantly his relief was unwarranted. After all, just a bit ago he wondered how Jayce and Viktor have been handling the Solver. When he first saw the girl, he assumed her to be some sick experiment from the Undercity. Now, though, witnessing that dreadful symbol lift him into the air, he knows exactly how it went for the Hextech partners.

    ¡°Rat. Extermination. Time~¡± The monster¡¯s eyes become that hexagonal symbol, three arrows shooting off in each direction. Heimerdinger hopes, at least, that they can get out of Piltover before it¡¯s too late¡­

    Bang!

    He drops to the ground, falling into a pile of obliterated planks and scrap. The Solver¡¯s head flings into the darkness of the building, Ekkos now bloody pipe causing a loud clang as it impacts the metal skull. The girl¡¯s petite body stands still where it was decapitated, her arms twitching wildly. Black, worm-like tentacles writhe aimlessly from the stump of her neck, trying to find a head that isn¡¯t near.

    ¡°Callback Ping.¡±

    ¡°Callback Ping!¡±

    The head repeats the same phrase over and over from the darkness where it flew. The body immediately snaps in the direction of the noise and sprints ahead on all fours, rushing to find its missing piece. It moves recklessly, ramming shelves and knocking supplies over as it blindly runs to its destination.

    Heimerdinger breathes heavily as it retreats to the dark, not having any time to think before Ekko snatches him up and runs. The boy lifts the professor onto his shoulders and equips his hoverboard, flying out of the doorway with urgency.

    Blood-soaked metal hooks launch out from the warehouse, flying with a thunderous boom toward the pair. The straight-shot harpoons miss the agile flyer, slamming into the stone walls of the cave.

    A rumble shakes the cavern as the hooks retract. The attached tentacles that propelled them disconnect from the metal and sweep at the dim green glow of the hoverboard.

    Ekko ducks, evading the first slash. Then, upon the flurry of strikes that follow, rolls down and then shoots up, careening out of the pipe that brought him here.

    With a burst of speed, he launches back into the wide fissures and complex pipe system. The last thing he hears from the monster is the distant roar of steel against rock.

 Chapter 12: Reunion

    The streets of the Undercity are just as the cloaked man recalls: filthy, dangerous, and overcrowded. If not for the glare of chemtech signs pedestrians wouldn¡¯t be able to see who¡¯s next to them¡ªeven midday; The black smog that covers the fissures blocks most of the light that attempts to sneak its way through.

    It¡¯s no wonder pickpocketing is such a popular and lucrative business in the trenches. Although, Viktor notices a lot less of it. More gang violence, of course, with Silco in charge and the chembarons following his lead. But, the streets seem safer in an odd way. It¡¯s more like people are afraid of stealing from the wrong person than being unwilling to do so at all. Thieves must¡¯ve become more selective, Viktor guesses. When he was growing up, he did some of it himself. The generous academy grants of Piltover eliminated the need for him to resort to such things, but he remembers those times vividly. It was easy even as a pre-teen to slink away in the dark, densely populated city. So, trying to find a three-legged flesh ball feels nigh impossible.

    Jayce informed him of the Solver¡¯s interjection in one of the shimmer refineries. It having made its way down here is a bad omen. If there¡¯s anywhere to get away with easy murder, it¡¯s the Undercity.

    In the time since the factory raid last night, the little beast could¡¯ve snatched up and ¡®assimilated¡¯ dozens of shimmer addicts or gangsters. In the Undercity, the blame would always find someone to land on, and it wouldn¡¯t be the Solver. By Janna! If it could dig up dozens of graves in broad daylight, who knows how many people it could snatch up in these neglected alleys.

    Viktor pulls his cloak tightly around his chest, lowering himself onto an opened crate in an alley. The inside of the old container is full of moss and moldy grain. One of the decomposing bread loaves has a large bite taken out of it, some poor soul having recently tried their luck. The nearby compost swarming with flies lets him know how that went. He can relate to such desperation. Considering his current predicament it¡¯s no mystery why. In his earlier conversation with Jayce, the Hextech partners decided on a plan of action: Jayce talks to Silco, Viktor searches for the Solver. The counselor is going to do his best to negotiate with the kingpin, the man hoping to find a mutually beneficial agreement to prevent any further bloodshed between the cities. Meanwhile, Viktor will scour the Undercity for any information regarding the loose Solver. He¡¯s not seeking to confront or challenge it, obviously. His only aim is to find information. Most importantly: the missing body parts.

    Jayce claims the Solver didn¡¯t have any body or imply that it assembled a humanoid form at all. With this knowledge, Viktor finds it probable that the creature has set up a nest¡ªor some kind of storage area¡ªto hold its stolen objects. He doubts it would wander far from its home to hunt, so he needs to find where a monster like that would set up. In the Undercity, that¡¯s no easy feat: millions of nooks and crannies make endless possibilities. His task is especially difficult since his search is relying on so many flip-of-the-coin assumptions.

    Viktor buries his head in his hands, sighing heavily and contemplating where to look next until a familiar, concerned voice chirps up from the street, ¡°Excuse me, lad. You didn¡¯t try eating that, did you?¡±

    Viktor bounces up, meeting an unforgettable, orange-colored yordle in addition to the young, painted face of a rough-looking, hooded trencher. The boy looks down at Viktor¡¯s mentor with a glare, whispering something to him angrily.

    ¡°Professor?¡± Viktor mutters, Heimerdinger¡¯s orange fur peeking out from his oversized shroud.

    ¡°Viktor? Fancy meeting you here! Why, I was beginning to believe the worst after my most recent encounter¡­¡± The wizened yordle shudders.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°You know this guy?¡± Ekko turns to Viktor, scowling, ¡°Who are you supposed to be?¡±

    Heimerdinger tries to interject as Viktor stands up, but simply looks on at the free-standing scientist in amazement, ¡°Y-you¡¯re cured! Viktor, this is marvelous! How did you do it?¡±

    Viktor winces, ¡°Eh¡­ not here, Professor. May we go somewhere more private to discuss?¡±

    ¡°Not without me,¡± Ekko steps in, clutching the dented pipe on his back, skittish from recent perils.

    Heimerdinger yanks on his coat, pulling the Firelight back, ¡°Boys, boys! Don¡¯t fight when we haven¡¯t even had proper introductions!¡± The yordle chuckles, ¡°Ekko, this is my former pupil Viktor. Viktor, this is my current host Ekko.¡±

    ¡°Host?¡± Viktor questions. The dean disappeared shortly after his retirement. Viktor simply believed he was holed up inventing somewhere, the yordle never being one to sulk. Ekko looked equally curious, his suspicions of the alley lurker fading away to intrigue upon the reveal of him being the founder of Piltover¡¯s former pupil.

    ¡°I found young Ekko yesterday by the bridge. He took me in and I¡¯ve been living with him since. Him and his crew are a hospitable bunch, that¡¯s for certain I¡¯m sure they¡¯d love to have¡ªugh!¡± Ekko elbows Heimerdinger., ¡°I mean¡­ at some time, in the far, far future! Long time from now¡­¡±

    ¡°Right¡­¡± Viktor brushes his cloak off and turns toward a darkened street, ¡°Walk and talk?¡± He offers.

    A quick pair of nods later and the trio descends, making their way to a sparse area of the fissures. Abandoned warehouses and chemical plants become abundant. Although it¡¯s unlikely residents ever lived in this part of the lanes, in recent years it seems even workers have become extinct. The faculties have been shut down so long the skyline of Piltover is visible clearly, the Council Building¡¯s towering visage stapled in the center. Viktor must¡¯ve lost track of time while searching, the orange glow of the sunset dancing on his face as a reminder to maintain a sense of urgency.

    First, though, he needs to come clean to his mentor: It won¡¯t take long, and it¡¯s necessary if he wants Heimerdinger¡¯s help in good conscience.

    ¡°I was cured by the Solver,¡± Viktor states bluntly, unwilling to sugarcoat his lethal mistake, ¡°It evolved, killed my assistant and another. Like a fool, I thought I could contain it. You were right all along, Professor. I should¡¯ve trusted your guidance. I humbly request your expertise, please¡­¡± Viktor drops to one knee, putting his hands together and crossing his fingers.

    Heimerdinger smiles, grabbing one of Viktor¡¯s hands gingerly, ¡°How could I forsake a young lad in need?¡± He stops, pausing briefly before adding quietly: ¡°Again¡­¡±

    Ekko waits patiently for the two to stand back up, his questions piling up like snow after every passing minute, ¡°So, what¡¯s the Solver? Does that have something to do with the monster girl that attacked us?¡±

    Viktor looks concerned at the mention, ¡°Monster girl? Someone attacked you two?¡±

    Heimerdinger nods his head, ¡°It was that Solver. The girl¡­ she was like a walking corpse, puppeted by machines. She wielded that sigil: nearly killed us both.¡±

    Viktor¡¯s sweat drips across his face, a terrified expression manifesting. In stark contrast, Ekko holds his chin with a pensive expression, a trickle of annoyance flowing down his features, ¡°So, let me guess this straight: you took this thing, tried to control it, failed. It escaped, and now it¡¯s the Undercity¡¯s problem? Typical¡­¡±

    Viktor nods solemnly, ¡°Not an inaccurate summary, unfortunately. It¡¯s what sacked the cemetery too. It seems mine and Jayce¡¯s fears have come true: it has built a body.¡±

    Heimerdinger and Ekko lock eyes, a tacit horror shared between the two.

    Viktor reaches his hand out to Ekko, ¡°If you helped Heimerdinger, I¡¯d be happy to have you assist searching as well,¡± Viktor said before quickly adding: ¡°If you¡¯re willing of course.¡±

    Ekko bites his lip, sighs, then grabs Viktor¡¯s hand firmly, ¡°I can¡¯t leave my people out to dry though, so I¡¯ll be back in a bit; I¡¯ve gotta let them know what¡¯s what,¡± Ekko gestures to his hoverboard, ¡°I detoured the long way through the fissures not to lead that thing anywhere important, so my gang¡¯s gotta be worried sick,¡± he unslings his hoverboard and drops it to the ground, ¡°I¡¯ll be back soon, maybe with a few of my guys, too.¡±

    Just like that, he flies off, the blades of his hoverboard stirring up storms of settled dust as it zooms.

    Viktor turns to the professor, taking note of the sun¡¯s descent below the horizon, ¡°Best make use of what¡¯s left of the sun,¡± he looks ahead ominously, ¡°Run back here and yell if you find any evidence of the Solver. Footsteps, remains, anything.¡±

    Heimerdinger nods, ¡°Let¡¯s get started my boy!¡±