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Chapter 18: Compromise

  Principles can’t be compromised. That’s… well, kind of the point. If they can be compromised on, they’re not rules or oaths or even promises. At that point, they’ve become guidelines. Fickle, adaptive, and effectively meaningless. Without dedicated maintenance toward the filter of your actions, it will begin to break down. That filter, that keeps your system working as intended, will rust and fade. As more undesirables pass through, it weakens more and more, eventually becoming obsolete, fully unable to fulfill its purpose.

  The man beneath that moral strainer, without principles, does whatever comes to mind. Every compromise on a principle is a slippery slope that ambition, fear, and lethargy tries to persuade you down. Some listen, gorging themself happily upon the poison pouring into their ears.

  But… what about changing your principles? If the filter is replaced, what happens then? If of similar quality, simply different actions will go through the strainer. Perhaps the previous filter wasn’t working as intended, or breaking, or incapable of sorting the right actions. If the man is what’s below, how much would a broken filter corrode him? If an immaculate filter is replaced with a new, untested one, how far gone will the man be before its flaws are found out?

  Viktor has been adamant against weaponization since Hextech’s inception. This project is to help those in need, not continue the cycle. But, with the Solver and chem barons threatening Piltover, the cycle may end at a frightening place. But, once he endorses this, there’s no voice of pushback. Heimerdinger believes the weapons can simply be destroyed once the conflict is over. The yordle thinks blood can just be wiped from Piltover’s hands or covered up by a fresh pair of gloves like any other stain. Viktor knows, though, that won’t be how this ends. Jayce has already made and field-tested his Mercury Hammer, and the Atlas Gauntlets have unwittingly become a brawler's second pair of hands.

  Standing in the heat of the forge, Viktor is faced with a third, new one of these weapons. Like the hammer, it’s made for war, crafted to destroy. Three magnifying lenses are set aside, ready to be used to aim the weapon at long range, obliterating with pinpoint accuracy any unsuspecting target. A net launcher, too, has been made, capable of ‘harmlessly’ subduing targets and incapacitating them. Many other components are laid out neatly on the desk, but the one part that matters most is still being forged, shaped on the anvil by Jayce. Viktor feels every strike that lands on the Hextech rifle’s barrel, the heat that falls off, the flat iron face of the hammer, and the sheer force of each blow. He can hardly stand it.

  In fact, ever since he drank that stuff, his body temperature has been slowly building. Light fixtures, however small, bother him. Even the dim red light of the forge makes his skin itch. The sensation feels like centipedes crawling on his nerves, tickling his senses with thousands of legs. Something wrong is gestating inside him, an unholy abomination whose mother he knows too well now. Whatever the destination of this transformation, he dreads to reach it. Only one creature knows what will happen then… so he needs to apprehend it–then kill it. The Solver is the key to everything, the source of his greatest miracle and darkest demon. That simple symbol has been haunting him since the hospital, flickering in reflections, shattering glass; Viktor has been distancing himself from mirrors and windows, the fragile victims finding their destruction just as sudden as the corrupted scientist does.

  The shattering sound plays through his mind, just as Jayce slams down the finished barrel. His partner’s face is solemn and determined, confident in what he’s doing. Viktor longs to have that same purpose, that confidence in every movement. But… what good is a determined mind if it pushes toward evil?

  “Do you ever think… what you’re doing is wrong, Jayce?” Viktor mutters, fixated on the compilation of innocent parts resting nearby, oblivious to what they’ll soon become.

  “Of course… I don’t want to make weapons… but… what other choice do we have, Viktor?” Jayce receives Viktor’s words as a cutting jab, a judgmental remark to remind him of his partner’s disapproval. Jayce can’t help but repeat himself, clinging to the same explanation that convinced him to follow through, “We either compromise with ourselves, or we die. If things turn out worse than they were before, that’s… bad, but we weigh the alternatives. We can’t let the chembarons or the Solver run free, so, if this is what it takes: so be it.”

  Viktor glides his hand across the warm barrel, the feeling in his fingers weaker than ever. He barely feels the pain of his fingertips burning, the barrel still searingly hot. His hand only moves away because of the scent of burning skin.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “I will not endorse the creation of more weapons,” Viktor states with finality, a confidence in his voice usually reserved for that specific opinion, “But—” Jayce lifts his head, his eyes widening.

  “—I endorse their use… for now. I remain adamant that our focus should be on tools and utilities development, but the council is not wrong in regards to the threats that lurk in Piltover,” his eyes flick up, meeting Jayce’s resolve with his own, “If more weapons are needed, I say we adapt them from already existing creations. The Hexclaw and Atlas Gauntlets–both extremely useful tools–but also dangerous. This way, the weapons can be unmade, so to speak; They’d only be weapons by circumstance,” Viktor finishes with fading confidence, like he’s trying to convince himself with this argument more than he is Jayce.

  Neither of them speak for a few moments. But, as Jayce’s muscular hands press two components together, the snap of the metal clicking together cuts through the silence. Finally, the counselor mutters, “Weapons can’t be unmade, Viktor.”

  “Maybe not completely unmade, but they won’t be real weapons. It’s preferable to have a use other than war,” Viktor lifts up the lower barrel of the rifle, staring down the hollow metal tube which launches the nets, “When the fighting is done, what could this achieve? In a peaceful world, all it could do is explode an animal or painfully apprehend one. But, what of the Hexclaw? The Atlas Gauntlets? Both of them are better used for productivity, their aptitude for violence only being a coincidental feature of their design.”

  Jayce lifts up the net launcher, his iron grip squeezing it like a stress ball, “So what? I just disassemble it when we’re done?”

  Viktor lowers the cool barrel, turning the pristine metal around in his hand. Holding it by the end, he hands the tube to Jayce like a king passing a scroll to a messenger, “You said yourself weapons cannot be unmade. Actions, too, cannot be undone. The Mercury Hammer, this rifle… they’re ugly dents, but if the shield of peace is otherwise holding, I’d say it’s a worthwhile trade,” Viktor smirks, “Best not to mess it up anymore than you have to, though.”

  Jayce smiles back, taking the lower barrel in his hand and spinning it, “Thank you, Viktor,” Setting both the net launcher and lower barrel to rest, Jayce removes his gloves and leans against the table, “What will you do next? Heimerdinger said he’ll be returning to the Undercity to work with the—“ Jayce hesitates, still uncomfortable with his mentor spending time with them, “—the firelights… but, he did ask if you wanted to join him. Searching for the Solver, I believe. With the streets being filled by enforcers, it might be a good time to look without gangs getting in your way.”

  Viktor considered that advantage, actually, but he worried for a few things, “The Solver isn’t stupid: I doubt it’d peek its head out and risk getting exposed. It seems scarily cautious… so maybe the outskirts of the fissures could be promising,” Many still live in the sumps: addicts and exiles mostly. People who wouldn’t be noticed—even among the Undercity.

  Jayce picks up a pen, “I’ll write you a letter, orders for any enforcers to assist you and Heimerdinger should you need it.”

  “Thank you, Jayce,” Viktor clutches his hand, rubbing the burnt skin away to touch the warm, smooth steel of his finger.

  That same, metal finger glides gently across the perfectly spherical form of the Hexgem. Its blue depths drown him in an ocean of magical power, flooding his mind with distant visions of what could be. But, what it could be is irrelevant, for right now, it is just a tool. Soon, it will be a weapon.

  The Hexclaw, one of his many pet projects, idly stretches before him. In each of its joints, he sees bone instead of steel, flickering seamlessly between the realm of his imagination and reality. Without even arming it, Viktor feels the Hextech staring at him, analyzing him. He can almost picture that soft blue turning gold, giggling as it slices him apart…

  Viktor squeezes the gemstone, holding it close like an anchor of lucidity, tethering him to the truth. The Hexclaw is uncorrupted and motionless. Its plating is pristine and completely metallic; There are no traces of organics in sight.

  Viktor places the Hexgem inside the corresponding leather glove—a remote controller, essentially—that seamlessly tracks his hand movements and conveys it to the Hexclaw. While not as precise as a rifle or pistol, the tool is able to follow his motions to perform snappy, instinctive movements that those weapons couldn’t replicate well. Additionally, with the agility of the Solver and its metal carapace, the Hexclaw’s beam would be invaluable. It was made, after all, to slice through metal.

  With how lightweight the device is, it isn’t difficult for Viktor to adapt into a portal framework. How to hold it, however, would be a more challenging issue to solve. A backpack couldn’t hold it: its precision would suffer immensely and it's still metal–not much of a purse item. So, although not the safest thing he has done, his solution for the predicament is an invasive procedure that… well… grafts it to his body.

  Theoretically, it wouldn’t even hurt him much if worn for extended periods of time. This belief comes from one, quite risky idea:

  What if I connected it to my back?

  The Hextech engineer already wears a back brace. It was installed because of his illness–which is no longer an issue–which means it’s now just a redundant structural support for his body. It was great for when he needed it, but now he can’t uninstall it, since his Solver-modified leg is apparently connected to it by wires and nerves. That creature sure is resourceful, so he should be too. Time to make the most of it; After all, what better use could there be than attaching a laser arm?

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